Full time, Family and Flognarde. A tale about the lack of quality faff in my life.

 

 

 

It's official. Full time work and blogging don't mix, least not in this house where I remember vaguely coming back from France and then it's been a bit of a blur involving my kids, somebody else's kids, the 6am alarm, mountains of marking and very little in the way of what they call quality time. It's been pretty crap to be honest. But I should be pretty grateful for my lot and even though meals have been haphazard, sometimes 'Mum's gone to Iceland' stylee (truly I hate myself, and then I am okay because I have rediscovered my liking for oven chips, fish and beans, with a cup of tea, all is right with the world, even though it isn't a world I am used to) and occasionally I have rustled something up. If I were disciplined I would, at the weekend, be making vats of stews and pies and alsorts of those comfort food offerings which wrap you up like a blanket in about half an hour of bunging them in the oven or stove to heat through, but I haven't, and whilst I hate to get political on an apolitical blog like this, Mr Gove in his divine wisdom is determined to have me work myself into a puddle of green ink and then drown in a sea of what he terms 'outstanding progress' instead of spending quality time in the evening with my children, which, come to think of it might be the root of the problem in the first place. We're all too busy chasing our tails to inflate figures on some spreadsheet somewhere to line somebody else's pockets or to perpetuate some ideological point of view and as a result families become people who just happen to live in the same house because they are too exhausted to try to connect and encourage with each other. Family life can be really quite hard to get right.

Anyway, whilst I move my soap box, I decided to get back to my happy place for this blog entry, which unsurprisingly is French inspired. As well as my filling up of the motorhome with French goodies before crossing the channel, we also brought a couple of carrier bags of Bramleys home, picked straight off the tree from our friend Richard's Perigourdaine orchard.

 

 

 

Motorhome

 

 

 

Apples

 

 

 

Kids on hols!

 

 

 

So, after blanching and freezing some, apples have been the go to for any kind of dessert or pudding that I have tried to rustle up and I decided that something typical of the region would be appropriate. As is usual, I buy a French cookery magazine when I am there because of my insatiable appetite for mooching through recipes and my aim to try and make my French knowledge the best it can be.   I found a recipe for Flognarde, which I will be honest doesn't sound like the most appetising of desserts if you go on name alone, but it is easy to make, tastes lovely and is lacking a pastry crust for those who have fallen out with pastry (sadly, I haven't) So, apple pie and custard without the 'pie' is what I am trying to say, I think!

 

 

Gourmand!

 

The origin of the recipe is from the Perigord region of France, where we stayed for our second week, and I have translated this from the French recipe in this magazine.

 

Warm with a little cream, this was so like the comfort blanket food I have craved just lately. The only way this could have been better is if it had been made for me *leaves recipe on worktop to see if Phill takes the hint*...

 

 

Flognarde, translated and adapted from 'Gourmand' magazine

 

Ingredients:

 

125 g caster sugar, divided.
150 g plain flour
5 eggs
1/2 litre of milk
the seeds of a vanilla pod or a dash of vanilla extract

1 tsp cinnamon
4 apples (I used medium sized Bramleys)
butter for greasing the dish

 

Method

Preheat the oven to Gas 7 (210 ° C).

Reserve 3 tablespoons of sugar after weighing out the amount of sugar. You will need it for scattering over the finished dish.

In a bowl, work together the flour, sugar, milk and vanilla and then add the eggs, one at a time.

 

 

Butter the dish.

 

 

 

Peel the fruit and cut them into thin slices or little chunks. Put them into the base of the dish.

Pour the batter into the buttered pan. The apples will float to the top.

 

Sprinkle the top of the mixture with the reserved sugar.

Put to bake for about 40 minutes until the custard is set. You might have to cover with foil if the middle seems a bit runny but the top is getting too coloured.

 

 

 

Serve warm, with a little cream if you like. This is also pretty yum next morning for breakfast, even if I do say so myself!

Thinking about French Leave: Alsatian Leek and Onion Tart, or 'Tarte Alsacienne'

 

 

In a couple of months I'll be off to France again for a some sun, good wine, good food and returning home with a motorhome full of French goodies and I'll be honest I am already in the mood for it. Although, it has to be said that the first part of our holiday is in south west France and I am a bit concerned that the weather is at least as bad if not worse as than it is here just now. Anyway, there is a bit of time for that problem to sort itself out and in the meantime I am going to be getting myself in the mood with the odd foray into French cuisine which if it's any good will no doubt reveal itself in some guise on this blog.

 

Being that I am on one hand quite predictable and on the other hand just a bit random I thought I would pick 'quiche' (how 'cliche') from the complete opposite area from where I am visiting, from Alsace in north east France. This recipe is based on the one from my 'Best Ever French Cooking Course' cookbook with the odd tweak, mainly turning this recipe from 'tartlette' to 'tarte' as I am not one for little quichy things. The whole tartlet thing strikes as too much pastry and not enough filling. Anyway, I'm rambling; here's the recipe:

 

Alsatian Leek and Onion Tart, or 'Tarte Alsacienne' adapted from 'The Best Ever French Cooking Course'.

 

Makes a 9 inch tart approx

 

For the pastry:

 

6oz plain flour

3oz cold butter

1 egg yolk

1/2 tsp salt

2 - 3 tbsp cold water to bind

 

(or buy some shortcrust pastry - you'll need about half a block)

 

For the filling:

 

1oz butter

1 onion, thinly sliced

1/2 tsp dried thyme

1lb leeks, cleaned and thinly sliced

2oz Gruyere cheese

3 eggs

1/2 pint double cream

salt and pepper to taste

 

Method:

 

Make the pastry by blitzing or rubbing together the flour and the butter until it resembles breadcrumbs. Add the salt and then the egg yolk. Use the cold water to bind the mixture, adding the water sparingly.  Roll into a bowl and put in the fridge for half an hour to rest.

 

Or, use ready made shortcrust pastry.

 

 

 

When rested, use the pastry to line a prepared loose bottomed tart tin (my rectangular is 13 x 4 inch) and the same kind of quantity fills about a 9 inch round pan, ish)

 

Prick the base and return to the fridge to rest once more (for about 20 minutes).

 

Preheat the oven to 190c/375f  and put a baking tray into the oven to heat up.

 

 

 

Line the pastry case with greaseproof paper/foil and baking beans.

 

Put the pastry case in the oven and cook for about 8 minutes or until the edges of the pastry look golden. Take the baking beans out and return to the oven for another 2 or 3 minutes to dry out the base of the tart. Transfer to a rack to cool and reduce the oven temperature to 180c/350f. and begin to make the filling.

 

 

 

In a large frying pan, melt the butter over a medium heat and then add the onion and the thyme and cook for about 3 - 5 minutes until the onion is just softened but not coloured.

 

 

 

Add the leeks and cook for 10 - 12 minutes until they are soft and tender.

 

Once softened, place the onion/leek mixture into the base of the tart.

 

 

 

Sprinkle the cheese over the onions and leeks and put the case onto the baking tray so you can transfer the full case into the oven easily once the cream and eggs are added.

 

 

 

In a bowl, beat together the eggs, the cream and the salt and pepper (to taste). Pour the mixture over the onions, leeks and cheese. Don't overfill.

 

 

 

Bake for about 20 - 25 minutes until set and golden.

 

Transfer the tart onto a wire rack to cool slightly. When cooled, remove the tart from the tin.

 

 

 

Serve warm, or at room temperature.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Je vous présente le cake! Sun dried tomato, Olive and Basil 'cake'

Because I couldn't wait...

 

Regular readers of this blog will know all about my love affair with France. From 'Joie de Vivre' through to 'Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité', I am a fan of all things Français. If some of my ancestors had stayed put a couple of hundred years ago I could have been French, but then messing around with the past affects the future and swapping my happy existence now for some kind of Frenchness is not what I am about, so I will just embrace that little part of me that is French and cook like a French woman, which brings me to cake, or should I say 'le cake', for that is what today's blog post is about.

 

Savoury cake might sound just a bit weird but allow me to convert you. Firstly, it sings Provence, particularly this one with its glorious flavours of olives, tomatoes and 'des herbes'. Secondly, as it cooks I swear the glorious smell escaping from the oven will transport you to some little bistro somewhere in the south of France where you are sipping pastis (or something) and looking suitable chic and thirdly, cut into little slices or cubes, maybe on cocktail sticks with some French sausisson and cold, cold glass of Chablis and you have a suitable 'Apero' experience and if you are one of those lightweight drinkers like I am and you've hurled a large glass of wine down your neck and are already feeling at best 'confident' or at worst 'other people', then a couple of slices of this contains suitable ballast to retain your equilibrium and natural 'French chic'. C'est genial, n'est ce pas?

 

So, this recipe is loosely based on one that I cut out of a magazine but I really couldn't tell you which one. I think, to be honest, once you have the basic dough down you could hurl anything you wanted at it, as the dough, or cake, is merely a vehicle for savoury treats, but you would have to go a long way beat the combination of sun dried tomatoes, black olives, herbes de provence and chopped basil not just for taste, but for bespeckled warm colours through every golden slice.

 

So, embrace your inner Frenchness, and make...

 

Sun dried tomato, olive and basil 'cake'

 

Serves 6 (maybe...)

 

Ingredients:

 

175g plain flour

1 tbsp baking powder

3 large eggs

100ml milk

100ml olive oil

100g Gruyere cheese, grated (You could probably get away with a decent mature cheddar)

100g sun dried tomatoes in oil, drained and roughly chopped

60g stoned black olives, chopped

2 tsp herbes de provence (you could also use other Mediterranean herbs if that is what you have).

a small handful of basil leaves, roughly sliced

sea salt and freshly ground pepper

 

Method:

 

Preheat the oven to 180c Gas 4

 

 

 

Sift the flour and the baking powder and season well with salt and pepper

 

 

 

Whisk the eggs, the milk and the oil together. Add the liquid to the flour a little at a time, beating after each addition.

 

 

 

Next, mix in the Gruyere, tomatoes, herbs, olives and basil, then tip the mixture into a prepared (greased and lined) standard loaf tin.

 

Bake in the oven for about 50 minutes or until a skewer put into the middle comes out clean. If you are concerned that the top is browning but the middle seems uncooked, then place some foil over the top of the loaf, though bear in mind that the nature of the ingredients in the loaf will produce something that will be quite dense and damp whilst cooking.

 

 

 

Leave to cool and then remove from the tin. You can keep this wrapped in foil in the fridge if you are not using it immediately but when you do serve it, make sure it is at room temperature.

 

 

 

Délicieux!

Definitely not lost in translation: Chocolate and Banana Clafoutis, ou Clafoutis Chocolat et Banane

 

 

Many, many years ago I was really quite good at speaking French and was verging on fluent. Then I decided to study English at university and the whole thing started to unravel. Years of not really engaging with the language began to take its toll and as the visits became fewer, the more my knowledge waned. Fast forward about 10 years or so and my first visit to rural France in too long a time resulted in me just hearing 'noise' which I knew was French, but which meant absolutely nothing to me. Only when I managed to blurt out the phrase 'Est ce que vous parlez plus, plus lentement s'il vous plait' did I manage to cotton on to the odd word. A real fall from grace for the woman who had discussed the works of Jean Paul Sartre, in French, for her A level oral French examination. I was sad. And annoyed.

 

So, for the recent trip, I decided to immerse myself as much as possible in the language. Searching out French radio on long wave radio, TV5 on the cable telly, Pimsleur French III in the car to and from work, resulting in strange looks from fellow commuters as I sat at traffic lights, remonstrating with an absent Frenchman about my hotel room being dirty. I even rediscovered my gallic shrug, resulting in my losing the panicky squeak when I tried to communicate in a language that was not my own. The result was that I performed a lot better this time around, with about 90% communication and 10% gesticulation. Result!

 

Anyway, you may be wondering where I am going with this and up to now there has been a distinct lack of recipe mentioned. I was in the supermarket in France just before returning to the UK and I happened upon the magazines. I resist the temptation to buy food magazines in this country because it's a slippery slope. I buy one, I'll buy two, I'll buy them every month and before I know it I'll have piles of them all over the house, but I figured buying a French one would be 1) a one off, and 2) a good way to immerse myself in a language that I had rediscovered a love for and that I wanted to use. So this is what I bought:

 

 

 

...and there are lots of lovely recipes I want to try, but I started with this one, Banana and Chocolate clafoutis.

 

My alterations to the recipe were few. The original recipe calls for 180ml of milk to be added to the chocolate mixture. I added 60ml because I was concerned about the 'runniness' of the raw batter mixture. I didn't think it would set and so erred on the side of caution. It might have been that my eggs might not have been as 'gros' as the ones called for in the recipe. Either way, I would exercise a bit of caution in case the batter becomes far too runny. I also added a pinch of salt to the batter mix to bring out more of the chocolate flavour.

 

Several words about bananas. You want ones that are pleasingly yellow and slightly yielding. If they're turning black I don't think they lend themselves to this recipe. You want bananas that are going to keep their shape and not disintegrate to mush. Yuk. keep those for banana bread.

 

Clafoutis chocolat et banane, translated and adapted from the recipe in the French publication 'Cuisine de Grand-Mere'

 

Serves Lola, Finn, Mum and Dad, generously.

 

Ingredients:

 

100g of dark chocolate

50g butter

50g caster sugar

3 large eggs

2 tbsp cornflour

180ml full fat milk (I used 60ml, see explanation above)

a pinch of salt

3 large bananas

 

Method:

 

Preheat the oven to 180c (Gas 6)

 

 

 

Melt the chocolate gently in a bain marie or double boiler - basically in a bowl placed over simmering water. Don't let the bowl touch the water or else the chocolate will seize.

 

 

 

When the chocolate is melted, add the butter and combine.

 

 

 

Then, add the sugar. Stir to combine.

 

Let the chocolate mixture cool slightly, so that it doesn't scramble the egg that you are about to add to it.

 

 

 

Beat the eggs together, then slowly add them to the chocolate mixture. Stir until the chocolate mixture and eggs are well combined.

 

 

 

Add the cornflour little by little, whisking it in and taking care not to create (or leave!) lumps in the chocolate batter. Add a pinch of salt.

 

Lastly, add the milk to the batter, little by little, until the mixture is well combined. You may want to add less milk.

 

Butter six ramekins, or one larger souffle type dish (actually, I used a cake pan).

 

 

 

Slice the bananas and place into the bottom of the ramekins or dish.

 

Pour the batter mixture over.

 

 

 

Place in the oven for 20 minutes for ramekins or 30 mins for a larger dish. The clafoutis is ready when it is set but with a little wobble.

 

Allow to cool slightly.

 

 

 

I served this with cream and it was tremendous!