Caraya II in the Greek Isles

It was days before I was steady on land and not falling asleep and waking up to the rock of the boat. The beauty of the trip continues to show up as images dance before my mind’s eye. What a pleasure to have so many lovely “anchors” of experience to enjoy long after the boat put into dock in our final port as the group made its way back to Athens for various departure plans to return to our lives as American ex-pats.

After being transported from Athens airport to the waiting boat, (with a stop as we prepared to cross over the Corinthian Canal) we boarded Caraya II at the port of Nafplion for a tour of the boat and a deposit of bags into our selected cabins.



We were 5 with an additional two:

Skipper Stefan and








First Mate-Cook-and-Bottle-Washer, Soulis.





The aforementioned Charlotte

knew everyone of the five travellers and the three others knew one another as well. I was the unknown factor in the group. And frankly, I couldn’t have felt more welcomed.
















Stefan had hoisted a small American Flag to represent our group. Indeed, we were all born and raised in the US, but each of us is now living abroad: Ukraine, Barcelona...and, of course, La Fourchette in the south of France.

As the week’s sailing plans and stops unfolded, each person seemed to find a rhythm on the boat. For five people to live on a sailboat for a week is a recipe with an unknown result...but this worked beautifully. Everyone seemed able to find a nice balance of alone and together time, sun and shade time, shower and bathroom time (hey...it’s all in the details!) Music, food, laughter, shade, sun and stories were all shared with pleasure.

As we began our adventure, the only collective request was that we sail to interesting places less known to (and populated by) tourists.
Out came the charts and after a brief planning session below deck, we were off. Dropping anchor an hour or so out of port, we took our first dip off the side of the boat...exquisitely cool on the skin, the mix of blue hues into which we were emerged calmed the spirit as well. (And who knew?!? Apparently, playing in the salty turquoise waters works up an appetite!)


Delicious and perfectly timed, the first of many snacks on deck followed as we headed on to our first port. (It came as no surprise that Soulis is in the process of opening his own restaurant in Athens.)









Each night would promise a new port for dinner...Portoheli would be the first. A “primer” of sorts, in which, with Soulis as our guide, the fish selected was first viewed before being chosen for preparation and a little history and culture lesson was included with the meal. Dishes were ordered, one after the next, until we begged for mercy and a stop to the feast. Albeit a bit overwhelming for the first night, it was fun. This was just the beginning!

Although I was so pleased to be in a place where I would have the nightly opportunity for a Greek salad and delicious calamari, I did, on a couple of occasions, break from my obsession and share in a traditional Greek-style meal of many little dishes ordered over the course of an evening depending on levels of dwindling hunger. (The Greek word “mezes” means “little plates”, which is how each order comes to the table.) Salads were filled with the bounty of the summer season, ingredients for each dish were simple and delicious, sauces were light and showed a definite Italian influence and the seafood fresh and outstanding...okay, I’ll admit, I’m still not a big fan of octopus but this was better than I had expected!

As the week unfolded, we would skirt winds and storms to find our way to obscure village ports that included: Spetses (where boats are still made by hand in the traditional fashion), Leonidio (where nightlife includes a rockin' reggae bar...from some reports!), Monemvassia (an ancient perched village of artists and cafés), Ermioni (where we walked off the boat into a taverna owned by friends of our skipper and first mate...I think they had done this before!), Gerakas (a small fishing village where tables are lined up at the edge of the dock under twinkling lights for evening diners), Hydra (a village of artists and anyone wanting to climb stairs...burros will carry your heavier items!), Poros (watched over by an ancient clock tower) and Aegina, where we would spend our final evening and dinner would be enjoyed at a little taverna owned by a local gentleman and his lovely wife, who had spent much of her childhood in Chicago! She welcomed us warmly and exchanged Chicago stories with the Chicagoan among us, comparing Greek Town in Chicago, then and now.

Well...see for yourself...grab a cup of tea (or glass of ouzo!), put your feet up and enjoy a bit of the adventure for yourself:

























































It was a delicious trip...okay, okay...it was also lovely to be sailing along on the azure waters with a salty mist kissing my face as I breathed in that specific fragrance that blends canvas sails, sun-baked wood, wet towels and sea as the boat's dance was choreographed expertly by our skipper...okay...and it was also lovely to be sailing past islands that rose majestically out of the sea, rich with history (and mystery)...and then being fed like royalty and informed on Greek culture by Soulis wasn't bad either! What an adventure...spending the week off the beaten path, just as we had asked...it wasn’t really all about the food.

If you can’t fit in a sailing expedition on Caraya II with Stefan (who also offers cruises for corporate incentive programs...what a prize!)and Soulis in the weeks ahead, you can certainly bring a bit of Greek cuisine to your table. In fact, you can start with my little obsession...which, yes, I have enjoyed more than once since I’ve been home.

The late days of summer are perfect for gathering up the salad ingredients and the fish monger at the market preps my squid for me with a couple of snips so it’s ready to go when I bring it home. Am I a lucky girl, or what?! I’ve even managed to score a bit of Greek olive oil (and yogurt for breakfast) at my local epicerie!

Try washing it down with something suggested by my friend, Jean-Marc Espinasse, at Rouge-Bleu. (Follow his journey as he builds his new bio-dynamic winery and makes renovations on a 400 year old French farmhouse!)

Coteaux Varois
Fiefs Vendéens
Coteaux de Pierrevert
Entre-deux-Mers
Anjou (Which is where my own love affair with wine began many, many years ago...on a picnic...another story...)
Coteaux d'Aix-en-Provence


A appreciative curtsy to my boat-mates and fellow adventurers for the Greek Island caper. Je suis contente de vous rencontrer! (Happy to meet you!)



And to Stefan and Soulis, mille fois merci! Encore, Encore! I’m ready to do it again!

Bon Appétit!
L


Fried Calamari

Vegetable oil, for deep-frying
1 pound clean squid with tentacles, bodies cut into 1/3- to 1/2-inch-thick rings, rinsed and dried on a soft towel
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons dried herbs (a blend such as herbs de provence or simply some dried oregano)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 lemons, cut into wedges
Fresh parsley, chopped (for garnish)

Pour enough oil into a heavy large saucepan to reach the depth of 2 - 3 inches. Heat over medium heat to 350 degrees F. Mix the flour, herbs, salt, and pepper in a large bowl. Working in small batches, toss the squid into the flour mixture to coat. Carefully add the squid to the oil and fry until crisp and very pale golden, about 1 minute per batch. Using tongs or a slotted spoon, transfer the fried calamari to a paper-towel lined plate to drain. Salt immediately to your taste.

Place the fried calamari and lemon wedges on a clean plate. Sprinkle with some chopped fresh parsley to garnish and serve.



Greek Country Salad (Horiatiki Salata
(Adapted from The Original Greek Cooking by Alexandros Valavanis)

1 lb. tomatoes
1 medium sized onion, finely sliced
1 cucumber, halved, seeded and sliced thin
Handful of black oil cured olives
180 gr. Feta cheese
dried oregano
80 gr. Olive oil
red wine vinegar, salt and pepper to taste

Slice onions and place them in vinegar to marinate. (This softens their “punch” a bit.)

Slice tomatoes and cucumbers and arrange along with olives on a plate. Add marinated onions along with the vinegar as you approach serving time. Top with a slice of feta cheese and the dried oregano. Pour the olive oil over the top and serve.

Serves 4

Cultural Exchanges and Care Packages

With the winds on the seas around the Greek Isles behind me, a few words and pictures are being put together to share some of the wonder and beauty of being in some of the lesser-known spots around the islands. Of course, food would be a part of the picture for La Fourchette from the first moments of the trip...so we'll start there.

The organizer of the adventure, a former resident of Aix en Provence, had asked for a few herbs de provence to bring some provençal zing to her Ukrainian cuisine.

The promise of a stash of herbs and a stroll through the marché turned into an inspiration for a little care package from the old ‘hood that included small jars of pesto, tapenade and artichoke spread, a bag of sun-dried tomatoes, a bit of lavender honey, cans of tuna in olive oil (which actually never made it into the collection as I packed it up - those are on the way, Charlotte!)and the originally requested herbs de provence. I was looking forward to bringing a bit of Mediterranean sunshine to someone who is finding Ukraine to be a bit soggy.


Mindful of the not-so-new airline security regulations for the amounts of liquid allowed for carry-on bags, I carefully transferred my soaps and such into smaller containers, then into plastic bags...and finally ended up packing it all into my check-on bag after all...it just seemed easier that way with fewer chances for any glitches along the way. Not factored into the equation: my care package!

As I went through security in Marseille, I was stopped abruptly and my backpack was opened as the security official searched for the “liquid” that was showing up on his screen. He shook his head and clicked his tongue at me as he reached in and retrieved my collection of jars one by one. “Oh! J’ai oublié! Mais, non...c’est un cadeau!!” I exclaimed. (I forgot! But no, it’s a gift!) I was in the process of internally berating myself for missing something so simple. Mumbling as I anticipated watching the entire package being tossed in the nearby trash that was already filled with quite a collection of bottles and other items that never made it past this efficient official, I was resigned to the inevitable.

Feeling a bit deflated, my murmur of “C’est pas possible...” (It’s not possible) tumbled out over the backpack that so clearly displayed my oversight. But to my surprise, there was a pause...and then with a wink and a smile the security official responded reassuringly, in that very French manner, “Tout est possible!” (All is possible...now one of my favorite expressions in these parts...even if it doesn’t always apply when it would otherwise be quite helpful.) He re-wrapped my stash and stuffed it into my backpack. I guess I looked like a safe bet and this story has a happy ending: the care package was delivered and has already been tucked into as a little bit of life in Aix is shared with a temporary Ukrainian resident. With all due respect to airline security in this day and age: How cool was that?!?

I shared the story with Charlotte as we sat under the sails sharing some shade one afternoon...which led to a discussion of food and recipes...which resulted in a suggestion for an old favorite of mine that combines the sun-dried tomatoes from my ‘hood and an ingredient that is apparently very plentiful in her corner of the world: vodka!


There we were: Two Americans...navigating their new cultures with food...while sailing in the Greek Islands...sweeeet!


Bon Appétit!

p.s. More tales to follow with recipes sporting a Greek and Mexican (!) twist!

Sun-Dried Tomato Vodka Cream Pasta (Adapted from a recipe that was attached with a rubber band to my first jar of sun-dried tomatoes many years ago...and some recipe in my files that has no reference...so...if it looks familiar and you want credit...changes can be made..."Tout est possible"!)

1 T. extra-virgin olive oil
1 T. butter
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 shallots, finely chopped
1 cup vodka
1 cup chicken stock (preferably home-made)
1 cup sun dried tomatoes
sea salt and pepper to taste
16 oz. pasta (your choice here: rigatoni holds and sops the sauce nicely...but linguine works nicely, too.)
3/4 cup heavy cream*
Chiffonade a handful of fresh basil leaves for garnish

Bring chicken stock to a simmer and pour over sun-dried tomatoes in a medium bowl. Allow to “steep” to rehydrate for 15 minutes (or longer as determined by your own taste for softening the tomatoes.)

Heat olive oil and butter in a large skillet over moderate heat. Add shallots and garlic. Gently sauté until soft and translucent. (About 5 minutes.) Add vodka to the pan and allow it to reduce by one half. (About 5 minutes.)

Add tomatoes and stock and bring sauce to bubbling, reducing to a simmer for 20 to 30 minutes. Check for seasonings and season with sea salt and pepper to taste.

While sauce simmers, cook pasta in boiling water, al dente.

In the final moments, stir cream into the sauce and return to a gentle bubble to heat through. Remove from heat and toss with pasta. Top with basil and serve immediately.

Serves 4

* I use a soy cream available here that is really tasty with none of the consequences of “the real deal” but...as Julia Child was fond of admonishing: You don’t eat like this every day!

Gifts from Above

Just a quick note, actually, to keep the pace going as I prepare to leave town for a sail around the Greek Islands! Yes, lucky girl that I am, a friend in the Peace Corps in Ukraine with a spirit for adventure (as if a Peace Corps assignment isn’t adventure enough) has organized a "little something" that was too good to pass up...so, I’m off until the middle of August.

As we enjoy the first days of August from our various regions of the world, I wanted to share a little "slice" of Provence and the bounty of summer.

This particular "bounty" is a gift from the apricot tree that grows on the other side of the wall in my courtyard and has "gifted" me with a regular shower of fruit in these last weeks. Some have ended up in Bodhi’s belly while others made it into this lovely tart. I’m not sure who had the most pleasure from the surprise harvest, but it’s been a good season for all!







There have been several warm summer nights on this little courtyard with friends visiting from the US recently...and a few “locals” coming inside for a little “look-see” in an attempt to escape a bit of the heat.














From the shadow of Sainte Victoire, I will be off for a couple of weeks with plenty to share upon my return. In the meantime, this is a lovely taste of summer sunshine...the drizzle of lavender honey (and there are a couple of Minnesotans who have a bit of this on hand) adds an extra little “curtsy” to Provence.

Bon Appétit!
L




Apricot Tart with Lavender Honey
(Adapted from Patricia Wells’ At Home in Provence)

The Pastry:
8 T. unsalted butter, melted and cooled, plus additional for preparing tart pan
1/2 cup sugar
A pinch of fine sea salt
1/8 t. pure almond extract
1/8 t. pure vanilla extract
2 T. finely ground blanched almonds
1 1/4 cups plus 1 T. flour

The filling:
5 T. heavy cream
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1/2 t. pure almond extract
1/2 t. pure vanilla extract
1/4 cup sugar
1 T, flour
2 T. finely ground blanched almonds

4 T. finely ground blanched almonds
1 1/2 lbs. fresh apricots, pitted and halved (do not peel)
Lavender honey for garnish

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F

2. Butter the bottom and sides of a 9-inch (23cm) fluted tart pan with removable bottom. Set aside.

3. In a large bowl, combine the melted butter, sugar, salt, almond and vanilla extracts and almonds. Stir with a wooden spoon to blend. Gradually add enough flour to form a soft cookie-like dough. Place the dough in the center of the buttered pan. Using the tips of your fingers, evenly press the pastry along the bottom and up the sides of the pan. The pastry will be quite thin. (You do not need to weight or prick the shell.)

4. Place the pan in the center of the oven and bake until the dough is slightly puffy and turns a very pale brown, 10 to 12 minutes. Remove from oven and set aside. Do not turn off the oven.

5. Meanwhile make the filling: In a medium-size bowl, combine the cream, egg, almond and vanilla extracts and whisk to blend. Stir in the sugar, flour, and ground almonds.

6. Sprinkle 2 T. of the ground almonds on top of the pre-baked pastry shell. (They will prevent the crust from becoming soggy.)

7. Arrange the apricots in a single layer in the pastry shell. Starting just inside the edge of the pan, neatly overlap the halved apricots, cut side up, at an angle. Arrange in two or three concentric circles, working toward the center. Fill in the center with the remaining apricots. Pour the filling evenly over the pastry. Sprinkle with the remaining 2 T. of ground almonds.

8. Place the tart pan on a baking sheet. Place the baking sheet in the center of the oven and bake until the filling is firm and the pastry is a deep golden brown, 50 to 60 minutes. The apricots will shrivel slightly. Remove from the oven and place on a rack to cool. Drizzle with lavender honey just before serving.

Serves 8.

Champagne Toasts

After an early train from Aix to Paris-Charles de Gaulle to catch a flight to Minneapolis through Detroit, I may have been a bit jet-lagged when, at some point during the 2 hour ride from the airport to my sister’s home north of "The Cities", my senses roused enough to ask her if it was rain that I was hearing and seeing hitting the windshield. “No,” she gently responded, “it’s bugs!"


Welcome to Minnesota where the road opens wide to wind through pastures and corn fields, the summer skies change with grace and beauty,




















the state bird is the mosquito...and mayonnaise is as popular here as it was in the faculty lunchroom during my days as a teacher! (Yeah...just for the mayo, had I not moved to the south of France, I think this would be my kind of place!) In fact, it wasn’t until my sister moved from California to Minnesota that either of us learned that the "hot dish" appearing at every social gathering was not referring to a young female wearing something petite (and on the tight side) but rather something often including cream of mushroom soup!

My sister has lived a bit of the Prairie Home Companion existence
since marrying a lovely fellow many years ago and relocating, with their dog,
to several oak-wooded acres that roll down to the river’s edge in a town of 800...make that 803.



Ah yes, Minnesota...Lake Wobegon Country, "...where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average."(News from Lake Wobegon/Prairie Home Companion)

After two-semesters of French studies, I was ever-so-ready to sit in the soft light of their lovely cedar-scented "three-season room" and rest, read, sleep, watch a little telly in English and witness the day’s light cross the park-like setting until dropping behind the river’s other shore at an hour that sounds more like my "bedtime" than "sunset".


We made the rounds to the local shopping malls to take advantage of sales, products not available here, a few tortilla "wrap" sandwiches that are not so ubiquitous in these parts, a "girly" day of pedicures...and happily, all in American dollars. What a relief!

As to the actual birthday celebration, it was a small family fête that took place on the deck...full river view while the sun made its last rays shine upon us as we toasted the Birthday Girl with champagne (a birthday gift bottle from my "notable birthday" the spring before arriving in France) and nibbled on none other than a dressed-up mayonnaise dish to whet the appetite as we waited for a roasted salmon dinner to hit the plates.

Although we talk every day, (yes my friends, we are keeping Telesoldes in Europe and NobelCom in the US in business!) every once in a while, sisters need that face-to-face catching up to say the things that don’t get said over the phone in the 7 hour time difference, to be recharged with a hug, or laugh, or to share that unique sense of humor that develops because of (and is made all the more precious by) a shared history. She’s a special one, this sister. Simply the best!

I always feel so warmly welcomed into their home (what says "I love you" more than the fact that there is always a large can of salted mixed nuts waiting for me!) This time, though, she and my brother-in-law graciously made room in their hearts – and on their carpets - for Bodhi, who found the entire experience quite to his liking. What’s not to like when you have free run of several acres, a big dog to follow around and provoke...errr, "play with" and your are encouraged to dig like a hedgehog by your aunt and uncle and not get reprimanded! Puppy Paradise!








After celebrating the big day, taking in a movie, making the shopping rounds, feasting on American television fare such as the Today Show, Food TV and something with Paula Abdul (!?), helping me pack up boxes of books to ship to France, and soaking up just being together, we parted as we always do at the airport in a mist of tears and unspoken wishes that the physical distance was not so great between us...but as hearts and souls go, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt closer...elle est quelque chose de special! (She is something special!) I love her as a sister, a friend, an artist and a "rock"...for it was her ever-present support and encouragement that helped me to breathe through the tough parts of this cultural transition.

Happy Birthday! And thank you!




A sommelier in California gave me the recipe for Parmesan Toasts, touting the pairing of the salty creamy blend of parmesan and mayo with the bubbly sweetness of Champagne...and you know, he was onto something!

As to the "hot dish", here is a little something from the kitchen of one of my sister's lovely Minnesota girlfriends (a bit like the YaYa Sisterhood, they are) back in the ‘hood. Known for her fabulous cooking and entertaining in high style, Carol's Tuscan Strata brings the "hot dish" to a new level.

Bon Appétit!
L

Parmesan Toasts

Parmigiano-Reggiano (preferably aged 3 years)
Best Foods Mayo (only brand that won't break up)
Chopped Green Onions
Black Pepper
Finely chopped garlic
sour dough, pumpernickel or rye toasts

Mix equal parts of grated parmigiano and Best Foods mayo in a mixing bowl.
Add finely chopped green onions, black pepper and garlic (to taste).
Prepare toast in smaller sizes or shaped with a cookie cutter. (The little cocktail loaves of pumpernickel or rye work well in a hurry.)
Put mixture in a piping bag or plastic baggie and squeeze onto toasts (or spoon onto each slice.)
Broil until nicely browned.

Serve immediately, while hot.



Individual Tuscan Stratas

Ingredients:
2 cups diced Lunds and Byerly's Artisan Vienna bread, sliced
1 tablespoon olive oil
8 ounces mild Italian sausage
1 cup chopped onion
1 1/2 teaspoons Lunds and Byerly's Tuscan Seasoning
salt and pepper to taste
2 tablespoons butter
1 1/3 cups baby bella mushrooms, coarsely chopped (4 ounces)
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1/3 cup diced sun-dried tomatoes packed in oil, drained
4 eggs, beaten
1 1/2 cups half and half
2 drops hot pepper sauce
2 cups shredded Trugole cheese
1 cup shredded Asiago cheese


Preparation:

Place diced bread in large mixing bowl.

Heat oil in large skillet over medium heat. Saute sausage, onions, seasoning, salt and pepper until sausage is no longer pink (8-10 minutes). Transfer sausage mixture to bowl with bread cubes. In same skillet melt butter; sauté mushrooms until all liquid evaporates. Stir in garlic and sun-dried tomatoes; cook 1-2 minutes longer. Transfer mushroom mixture to bowl with bread and sausage.

In another mixing bowl whisk eggs and half and half. Stir in hot pepper sauce and cheeses. Pour egg mixture into bowl with bread-sausage mixture; mix thoroughly.

Spray (6-cup) jumbo muffin tin with cooking spray. Ladle egg mixture into jumbo muffin cups. Refrigerate, covered, overnight.

Preheat oven to 350 F. Remove stratas from refrigerator 30 minutes before baking. Bake uncovered until knife inserted in center comes out clean (30-40 minutes). Remove from oven and allow to sit 10 minutes before removing from muffin tins.

Amount: 6 servings

Melons and French Sunsets

Bonjour à tous...and a grand merci for your patience and the gentle email nudges that were sent my way during my (albeit unintentional) hiatus. My goodness...who knew La Fourchette had so many followers! It's nice to know you are there.

Classes have ended. Final exams are behind me. And as to the “list of things to do”...well...it goes something like this:

Desk not cleaned off...check!

Billing not completed...check!

Summer studying not yet organized...check!

Oh well...it’s early yet and perhaps the most important thing on my list of things to do in recent days was to go to the marché because the result was that I brought home the inspiration that lives in the colors of a sunset over the Mediterranean!



Having recently witnessed just such a sunset, the colors were still dancing in my head as one day rolled into another and then suddenly, there we were at Saturday again!

My Saturday ritual (which actually began at the open air market in Del Mar, California) is to do dinner shopping at the marché for whatever-strikes-my-fancy aas well as getting flowers for the house. On this day it was roses...my usual larger bouquet of something that sings to me in the key of “not-too-expensive” and always an additional two roses that go on the mantel of spotted brown Le Tholonet marble from the old quarry at Mt. Ste. Victoire. My favorite flower vendor and his wife are big fans of Bodhi and they are often quite generous with me (last week it was an extra bouquet of pink peonies!) This time I found that an additional rose had been added to my bundle. As Monsieur Flower Vendor handed me the papaya-colored sunset wrapped in shades of soft gray tissue, he whispered that the extra rose was for Bodhi. (I promised my sister not to make this a “dog-blog”, but he’s actually quite a popular little personality in the ‘hood!)

My sunset collecting continued as I stopped in at my favorite lettuce vendors for a fresh-from-the-garden red-leaf lettuce and a few Cavaillon melons. (The last bit of lettuce didn’t get quite finished last week: Refrigerator not cleaned out...check!) There is a story to this next shade of sunset on the palette that is these melons. From the fertile region of Cavaillon, just north of Aix, their pastel outer skins, painted at regular intervals around the perfectly rounded globes with a darker shade of green, crack open to reveal a golden orange flesh that is sweeter than any melon I’ve tasted...that would be EVER tasted!

I fell in love with the Cavaillon melons during my travels to this part of the world and craved their honey flavor most when I was trying to enjoy a summer cantaloupe in California. One day, I walked into my local supermarket in San Diego’s North County and discovered, to my delight, a crate of Cavaillon melons planted squarely in a produce display just as I entered. Did I squeal with that aforementioned delight??! I jolly well could have! This was a connection with the land of Provence and all that is good about it: the markets, the lovely vast patches of agricultural activity that I love driving through, the love of good, fresh food that is so woven into the tapestry of life in the South of France...I was actually standing in front of the possibility to refresh all that anchored me to this place from too far away in a juicy mouthful of French melon.

I picked out one of lovely and very petite melons and carried it to the cashier’s checkout without completing the shopping I had originally come to do. (I can be like that sometimes!) So lost in my reverie of “my Provence” was I that although I had checked out every last detail of the red French label that was attached to the melon’s belly, I had failed to look at the price. Imagine my sticker shock when the cashier announced dryly “That will be 9 dollars and 54 cents.” Yes, that little petite gem weighed in at a wonkin’ 9 dollars! Ouch! It was to be my little contribution to a brunch with friends later that morning.

My shock began to soften on the trip down to brunch and the anticipation of digging into that melon was beginning to override the financial consequences. But with the balance never quite realized before walking in the door with my petite gift for brunch – and even before a hug or a good morning or a “How are you?” had been exchanged - I went directly to setting up the experience of this foreign delicacy for my hosts: “You will never believe what this baby cost?!?!” I believe that was followed – finally – with an explanation about why it was so important to me to have spent nine dollars on a small piece of fruit. In hindsight, I do hope the romance of the moment of sharing a little slice of Provence wasn’t too dashed by my clumsy entry...but then again, I’m not sure the disclosure of the price might not have enhanced the whole experience for D and A. ...and besides, I think they love me for some of those quirky things I do!



If these show up in a market near you, make the leap! It will be worth every penny...errr, dollar!

Bon Appétit!
L

A petite p.s. to my friends, new vineyard owner, Jean-Marc Espinasse at the former French-Wine-A-Day and his writer-wife, Kristin at French-Word-A-Day, are in the process of moving to their new digs on that recently purchased vineyard. You can read about their new adventures as a new chapter opens in their lives, which included a recent blast of a Mistral wind and a storm that brought heavy skies and some torrents of rain in these parts. A bit challenging for our new wine grower! May the result of the recent weather challenges result in a Grand Vin du Mistral! Bon Courage to you both! (These are not their "new digs", but I thought of them as I passed this winery near Mt. Ste. Victoire and immediately sent good wishes on that stormy wind for their baby vines to survive the Mistral that was battering us at the time.)

Le Poisson d'Avril

Whew! I’ve finally caught up with my lists of "things to do" and I’m back in the saddle for a weekly post to La Fourchette. April Fools!! Actually, that’s what I’m talkin’ about...a little French twist on the annual day for pranks and pranksters.

Here in the ‘hood we have Le Poisson d’Avril, a tradition which has its roots in 1564, the year in which the new year would have been celebrated on April 1 as in all the years that had come before, had it not been for the king of France at the time, Charles IX. Seems our Chuck decided to create his legacy with a modification of the calendar year and decreed that beginning in 1565, the new year would, from this day forward, be celebrated on January 1. (These kinds of crazy things happen when leaders are trying to establish their "legacies", don't they?!?) To go along with the new design, people wished one another a good new year and gave gifts to each other just as they would ordinarily do on the “New Years Day” of April 1.

But when April 1 arrived that year, there were a few (aren’t there always!) who were not so happy with the new order of things and showed their displeasure by making gifts for the "real New Year" as they had always done. It turns out that these "rebels" were jokers of a sort and the gifts were false gifts done mostly for laughter with little or no other value.

From that day forward, the first of April has become known as a day for laughter, jokes and pranks. Ahhh...but what about the fish, you ask? At this time France's history, fishing was prohibited at the beginning of April because it was the time for reproduction in the fish kingdom. One of our hearty pranksters tossed herrings into the river and was reported to exclaim, “Les Poissons d’Avril” (the fish of April) to play a joke on the fishermen. (Keep in mind, Jerry Lewis is still popular here!)

Our 21st century pranksters do not toss herrings into fresh water anymore but instead, as discreetly as possible, stick a small paper fish on the backs of people who then walk around all day with the “fish of April” tacked onto their backs. Always good for a giggle, it's pretty innocent on the scale (yes, pun intended...I'm in that kind of mood!) of pranks.

The fish connection may have its roots in early Christian symbols, a few herrings tossed in the river for a good laugh or the fact that in the zodiacal calendar, the moon leaves the sign of Pisces at the beginning of April. Whatever the connection, there’s no getting away from those April Fools pranks...even when you move thousands of miles from the home of April Fools!



Here’s hoping that all of your Poissons d’Avril are made of chocolate...or baked in a salt crust.



This is a fabulous dish that makes a stunning presentation. If you want to make your guests "ooooh and ahhhhh"...give this a try!



Bon Appétit!

L




Whole Fish Baked in a Salt Crust

Make sure your fish is fresh and when you clean it, do not scale it. Leaving the scales on will add flavor and allow the salt to adhere better to the fish making the final filet process much easier. Use red snapper or dorade...actually just about any whole fish will work done in this manner.


1 very fresh large whole fish (2 1/2 to 3 pounds) or four small fish
(1 1/2 pounds)

6 - 8 cups of coarse sea salt

1 lemon, thinly sliced

Several fresh bay leaves and whole herbs such as branches of thyme,
etc. (optional)

Good quality olive oil (the best you have) for a drizzle after it's on the
plate!



Rinse fish and pat dry. Place lemon slices, bay leaves and herbs inside of fish. Spread half of salt in a baking dish just large enough to hold fish. (The tail and head can be sticking out of the salt if need be.) Place fish on top, pressing it into salt. Place 2 or 3 bay leaves on top of skin before covering with remaining salt. Spread remaining salt over fish to completely cover it. Compact salt by patting it. (The moisture of the fish and salt will create a hard crust as it bakes.)

Bake fish at 450 degrees 25 to 40 minutes until cooked, depending on size of fish. (Allow 10 per pound and adjust baking times by 5 minutes either way for each 1/2 pound of fish.) To test for doneness, insert slender metal skewer into thickest part of fish. When fish is cooked, it will come out very hot to the touch.

To serve, present fish to guests at the table. Using 2 large spoons, gently crack and remove top of salt crust. Transfer fish to platter and remove skin. (This eliminates all excess sodium.) Filet fish and serve it on plates with a generous drizzle of olive oil. Garnish with additional lemon slices. Makes 4 servings.

New Associations

To quote an author friend of mine,“Small things change a life.”

And so it was one evening, after returning from coffee with a friend, that I received a call from some friends to whom I had mentioned my recurring thought of getting a puppy. “The puppies are upstairs!” came the announcement. I had mentioned a few months ago that I was once again considering "the puppy idea". This is a recurring theme for me and the idea floats to the top of my awareness with regularity – so much so that I have a file on Bichon Frises, years old now, as my early research had indicated that this is a good breed for someone with allergies.

“The little boy is still available,” said my friend from the other end of the phone. I wasn’t sure if that was the “right” dog to have. Should it be a little girl? Are little boys tougher to raise? I was waffling again as I bumped up against the edge of an opportunity...errr commitment. “Why don’t you just go take a look and see if you like them.” Hmmmmm...a reasonable idea. And so, within 5 minutes I was climbing the stairs to the apartment where the puppies were waiting. I stepped inside the door and two puppies greeted me. Ah! But one of them immediately caught my attention...a bit shyer than the one peeing on the floor in front of me, I found myself hoping that this was the little boy who was still available. Yes...the one that locked my attention was indeed the little boy and as they say: the rest is history. As he tucked himself into the crook of my arm, it was clear that I was adopting a puppy...or perhaps it was the other way around.


And what a story to accompany this little one: the local legend of the quartier is that the owners of the female bichon were at the apartment in Aix one weekend (in from a little village outside of town during the week). She slipped out the door and down the stairs and the male bichon belonging to the coiffure in the building next door had a “love at first sight” kind of experience when he saw her. They would then take their romancing all over the quartier – all three owners following the amourous couple in urgent pursuit. The legend ends, as it turns out, on my very street, where conception is thought to have taken place. So it’s kind of an “all in the family” - or at least all in the ‘hood - kind of thing!

A bit of preparation was needed for the arrival and aided by friends Nathalie and Wayne who had first made the encouraging call to “see the puppies”, I put together a little waiting nest complete with a kitty box, litter and sleeping basket to tide me over until I figured out what was needed to have a puppy around the maison. The owners delivered him to me with his toy from Noël and a few packs of puppy food until we could get to the vet and get all the details filled in.

As to a name for this new association: In France there is a tradition of naming a dog according to an assigned letter in order of the alphabet for the year of birth. This puppy was born on 22 november 2006 so it was a “B” year for naming puppies. I wanted a name that would honor his French roots, so Baudelaire was the chosen French “official” name that would be shortened for daily reference. As it turns out, upon learning what a dandy M. Baudelaire was and that he did not consider photography to be art at all, I did a bit of readjusting and Bodhi became the moniker for this little one – short for "Bodhissatva", a reference in Buddhism to an enlightened soul who agrees to return lifetime after lifetime, working ceaselessly for the enlightenment and liberation of all sentient souls. (May seem like a lot for such a little soul to carry but he seems to be managing rather well.)



Until he has his second vaccination, he is not supposed to walk on the sidewalks in our fair ville. There is a lot of dog dirt to navigate and I’ve often wondered if I didn’t need shots before I walk out the door! So Bodhi is carried like a prince in my large leather travel bag and tucks himself in quite nicely taking in the view and all of the attention that he gets from passers by. Not to mention the adoration from the students at the institute! He goes with me to class daily and sleeps soundly during class time, takes breaks when the class takes breaks and has become a bit of a mascot from the classes to the library to the courtyard…even picking up a couple of babysitters along the way for the few evenings that I’ve gone out for longer than the couple of hours that he is now accustomed to staying quietly in his crate. All in all, it’s all working rather well!

Although he now sleeps in his crate, the first few nights he was chez moi he slept in the corner of my bed with me. He wakes up slowly in the morning and instead of the tail-wagging excitement that many dog owners are greeted with in early dawn hours, he stays quiet and calm and stretches his way into the morning light. As I was joining him in those morning stretches in a pink-grey light, I noticed that like many puppies, he has a “new puppy” smell, but this is something rather unique: Bodhi smells like banana bread!

I think I’ll keep him!

Bon Appétit!
L




Bodhi’s Banana Bread
Adapted from Bon Appetit

With a moist, dense crumb, this banana bread is a favorite of mine replacing an old standby many years ago. Perfect with a cup of tea, a spread of nutella or apricot confiture...or all by itself while you watch your puppy play!

2 large eggs
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup smashed ripe bananas (about 3 medium)
1/3 cup plain yogurt
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 3/4 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 325°F. Lightly grease 8 1/2x4 1/2x2 1/2-inch pan; dust with flour. Using electric mixer; beat eggs and sugar in large bowl until thick and light, about 5 minutes. Mix in smashed bananas, buttermilk, oil and vanilla. Sift flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt over mixture; beat until just blended. Transfer batter to prepared pan.

Bake bread until golden brown on top and tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 40 minutes and check for longer baking. Turn bread out onto rack and cool.

Makes 1 loaf.