MANGE PRIER AIMER Style Francaise
“I want God to play in my
bloodstream the way sunlight amuses itself on the water.”
I lost myself completely in my version of “eat pray love”
trip that accounts for the disappearance from my blog. I have eaten well, found my God and
well…..love is all around.
A cat has many lives, supposedly nine. I am not a cat lover or feline in nature but
I have had many lifecycles and in this particular one, France “was” once my
home. So without much fanfare, in this
life, I jump into an adventurous unknown.
The smellier the cheese, the heavier the wine, the creamier
the sauce, the fragrant the perfume, and the sexier the men, all seem to
incorporate my inner self.
This trip starts from Paris Gare du Lyon, a journey that is
full of excitement. The restaurant car
promises an amazing lunch, my compartment
companion fluent in 4 languages just had me at hello. A composite of a young Gérard Depardieu and French actor Olivier Martinez, he was regaling the merits of what a
good lunch can do for the body and soul.
I was starting to believe him.
With the trains’ mesmeric beat, rapidly picking up speed, the classic
French dining car, my first sip of Sancerre 2010 transported me to a decadent
life I once belonged.
Our
estimated trip to Dijon takes five hours with the little Fiat smart car
awaiting me to take me from Dole. The
crisp starched linen napkin unfolded by a very cross looking maître d’ who
started spouting French to me, asking if I had selected my lunch. I immediately did my best school French with
an exaggerated accent, and magic, he seemed to nod – I hope I didn’t order cervelle de veau by mistake. What the hell, even if I did, a leap into the
unknown with a gulp of Champagne would wash it down nicely, chalking up my list
of weird foods ingested through the years.
Pommery Royal Brut Champagne |
The Roast Leg of Lamb with potatoes au gratin avec fromage Forme D'ambert was so succulent. Just pink and beautifully carved, so aromatic with rosemary leaves and tossed with roasted garlic and a cheesy potato gratin.
The French, slightly stranger than the rest of the world as they like to end their Le Plat Principal with a cheese platter before dessert. This is my best part as I could dine on cheese and wine alone. Since there are more than 400 types of cheese in France, it is no surprise that the cheese board is comprised of a variety of textures and flavours accompanied by fruits and bread.
For dessert, Rum Baba with fresh cream had me wanting more. This small yeast cake
Even before the rum syrup is used, the cake has lots of butter and eggs, making it a very rich and intense dessert.
The result is a moist cake
with a heady
alcoholic note.
I could have just had the platter
of cheese and the Champagne, but my undoing can only be the hypnotic French
history lesson by Francoise, the Olivier/Gérard combo.
The rhythmic train
sound seem to be in tune with my heartbeat and after such a gastronomic feast,
delicious wine following through my veins, blood cursing through my stomach
digesting the richness of my lunch, Francoise suggested we retire to the compartment with my Brandy liqueur. The proposition met with non-resistance with
a promise of more French history.
Two hours into the
trip, the train stopped and backtracked.
“A coupé” says the conductor, “A coupé”
. My limited knowledge of French
and Françoise’s vast knowledge of everything meant that our small carriage was
being cut to go to Dijon, and the rest of the train unhooking to go to
Lyon. The last hour before we departed
company was centered on dipping chocolate macaroons into our coffee cups.
The train ride flew
by. All the houses, and trees whistled
passed so quickly but the lessons in French history, French politics, and the
art of flirtation stayed embedded in the mind.
Dijon mustard
originated from the town of Dijon but now the mustard seed ingredient that goes
into the famous Maille Dijon mustard is imported from Canada. Was Francoise a Canadian import too? I will never know. We lingered saying our goodbyes.
The Fiat smart car
attached with a brainy GPS, it flashed the destination as:
Andelot en Montagne.
Allons-y!
Mme Bourgeouse is the name of the owner as well as a
Pension. It is a guest house, a term
typically used in Continental European countries, right in the middle of Andelot. Petit dejeuner plus diner is included. The rest of the day will be spent with long time friend Royce discovering the
Jura.
Royce, the linguist can switch from English to French to German to Italian with great ease. His personality also changes as the tongue is twisted to suit the thoughts he puts into words. My fantasy of knowing all these people in one person was soon to be gratified. Royce the German vs Royce the Italian - the dumplings vs the pasta - which would win my stomach or my mind?
The Franche
Comté
region famous for its cheeses and our foray this morning is walking up a hill to visit a cheese farm.
Franche
Comté cheese have very different characteristics due to the age of the cheese,
which is usually matured between 4 and 18 months and sometimes longer. This
cheese is one of the oldest styles and has been made for over ‘ten centuries’
in Eastern France in the stunning region of mountains that stretch between Jura
and Doubs in the Franche-Comté region. The unique taste is dependent upon the time
of year and diet of the cow affects both the flavor and colour of the cheese.
Monsiuer Dubois in his white overalls and white boots is pulling the curd out of the vat as we entered his domain. He is making Morbier. Royce understands my love affair with cheese and bringing me to witness the making of Morbier is loosening my reserve on many issues.
The cheese is elastic and not easy to slice. It has a pale interior with a beige-orange rind. A black streak of vegetable ash gives the cheese an inimitable look but doesn't change tt's flavour.
Chuckling away with Monsiuer Dubois, Royce translates their little joke for me. It appears that cheese making has health consequences, Royce dutifully asked if I knew what they were. High Cholesterol count? No he says, try again. Clogged arteries? Na-da, he shakes his head. Well, I give up. He whispers that they all suffer from acute rectal hernia. Now if they did squats with weights in the gym like I do daily, surely that will help to prevent this debilitating issue. From now on, word association for me will be Morbier - Squats.... what confusion must my therapist analyse and conclude?
Part two continues with Salins les
Bains, Besançon, Pontarlier and Royce.
Ahhh,..La France, le Fromage et le vin! What a delightful read! Part two will be located very near where I come from,...just on the other side of the border.
ReplyDeleteMany thanks for following my journey. We will go all the way down for Southern delights and more!
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