On Rue Tatin: The Simple Pleasures of Life in a Small French Town. Susan Loomis
Читать онлайн книгу.
of garlic and goose fat, filled with newly butchered rabbits, wild mushrooms, green beans harvested in the fields, lively salads, vegetables fresh from the gardens or the fields. There was always a crowd for meals – whether it be paying guests or the postman, Hubert, who timed his daily visit at lunchtime – and we were always racing to get everything done in time. Danie took to showing me once how to do something – like slicing potatoes paper thin with her incredibly blunt paring knife for galette de pommes de terre, or trimming a goose breast, or cutting butter into feathery thin slices (with the same dull paring knife) for her tender, crisp pastry. Then she would disappear, leaving me to prepare meals, showing up to do the finishing touches.
Danie and I became comrades. We worked around the clock either preparing meals, gathering ingredients (which meant going to the nearby village to pick up fresh milk from the dairy farmer, walnuts from the Dubois barn down the road, lettuces from the garden outside the house) or cleaning up.
I loved every minute of being at the Dubois farm, especially those consecrated to food (which was most of them). Each process on the farm had its own gastronomic ritual, so that goose-butchering time meant foie gras straight from the bird, served on bread grilled over the coals. It also meant demoiselles, goose carcasses after the breast meat has been removed, which are highly seasoned with salt and pepper and grilled over the fire. There isn’t a great deal to eat on a demoiselle, but it is considered a rare treat and so tasty that we would all dive in with our fingers. Butchering a pig meant fresh blood sausages and roast pork, and during bean season we had mounds of green beans tossed in garlic and Danie’s own walnut oil. Spring meant fresh wild mushrooms and tiny dandelions tossed in a walnut oil vinaigrette and golden sweet walnut meats from the orchard across the street.
Michael stayed at the Dubois farm for six months. His relationship with the family was a love affair. He never really did become comfortable speaking French, but it didn’t matter. He was raised on a farm so he knew what to do without asking: he repaired farm buildings, fixed anything that was broken (often things that had been broken for years), helped Danie or Guy when he could, amused the children and ruffled the ears of the dog. Now and then he would strike out from the farm across the fields, up and over the rolling hills which were covered in snow in winter and in wildflowers from the first sign of spring. Stone farmhouses and ancient fortified châteaux dot the region, and Michael spent a good deal of time investigating and studying the stone work used to build them, for he wanted to learn the techniques and apply them to his sculptures. The archways of golden stone were of particular interest, and on one of my visits he took me to a spot on the farm where he’d built one, from stone he’d gathered off the land. It looked as though it had always been there.
The end of Michael’s six-month tenure just about coincided with Patricia and me finishing the book. Michael and I took stock and decided that, this time, we would move back to the States – we decided we needed to get serious about our careers, and the US was the best place to do that. We packed up, gave up our studio and shipped our things home and left, I with a very heavy heart.
I returned to France at least once a year after that and dreamed of moving back. Finally, ten years after we’d left, with the signing of a contract for a book that would celebrate French farmhouse cooking, it could happen.
STUFFED TOMATOES Tomates Farcies
When tomatoes are fat and juicy this is the perfect way to serve them, as I learned from Danie Dubois on her farm in the Dordogne, where Michael spent six months. Our family loves them so I make at least 2 per person – with a green salad, bread and a simple dessert they make a filling summer meal. Use tomatoes that are ripe and firm and not too soft, so they hold up in cooking.
2 slices fresh bread (each weighing about 2 oz/60g)
1/2 cup (125ml) whole milk
4 lb (2kg) juicy tomatoes
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tbs (30ml) extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, green germ removed, finely chopped
8 oz (250g) button mushrooms, trimmed, wiped clean and diced
13/4 lb (875g) lean minced pork
11/4 cup (about 5g) fresh tarragon leaves
1 cup lighdy packed flat-leaf parsley (about 20g)
2 large eggs
1. Preheat the oven to 425°F (220°C/gas 8).
2. Tear the bread into bite-sized pieces and place it in a small bowl. Cover it with the milk, press the bread down so it is completely covered and let it sit until it has absorbed all the milk, about 30 minutes.
3. Slice the top off each tomato and remove the seeds and most of the inner pith. Lighdy season each tomato inside with salt and pepper and place them in an oven-proof dish.
4. Heat the oil with the onions and garlic in a medium skillet over medium heat. Cook, stirring, until the onions are translucent, about 8 minutes. Season with salt and pepper and transfer the onions and the garlic to a medium-sized bowl. Add the mushrooms to the pan and cook, stirring occasionally, until they have given up their juice and are tender, 5 to 6 minutes. Transfer the mushrooms to the bowl of onions and garlic.
5. Add the bread and milk to the ingredients in the bowl, along with the pork. Chop the tarragon and the parsley together and add them along with the eggs. Blend the mixture thoroughly, using your hands. Season with salt and pepper and blend well. Cook a teaspoonful of the mixture and taste it for seasoning – adjust if necessary.
6. Evenly divide the stuffing among the tomatoes, pressing it firmly into them, and mounding it above the edges of the tomatoes if necessary. Place the tops of the tomatoes atop the stuffing and bake until they become a deep golden, the stuffing is completely cooked and the tomatoes are tender, about 1 hour. Remove from the oven and serve, drizzling the tomatoes with the cooking juices in the pan.
Serves 6 to 8
THE DORDOGNE POTATO CAKE La Galette de Pomme Dordogne
This is the potato galette I learned to make from Danie Dubois so many years ago. She serves it often and always with roasted goose or pork – it makes a fine first course, or an accompaniment.
6 cloves garlic, green germ removed
1 cup flat-leaf parsley leaves, loosely packed (about 20g)
5 tbs (21/2 oz/75g) fat such as lard, goose or duck fat
31/2 lb (1.75kg) waxy potatoes, peeled
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1. Finely chop the garlic with the parsley and transfer it to a small bowl. Add 3 tablespoons of the fat and mix thoroughly, to make a sort of paste. You may make this ahead of time and refrigerate it, covered.
2. Melt the remaining 2 tablespoons of fat in a large, nonstick skillet with sides that are about 3 inches (71/2cm) high. You will need to slice the potatoes paper-thin for this dish and the best way to do that is to use a vegetable peeler. ‘Peel’ (or slice) the potatoes right into the hot fat, stirring them occasionally so they don’t stick and seasoning them regularly with salt and pepper as you add them to the pan. It will take about 20 minutes to slice all of the potatoes into the pan, and they will cook evenly as long as you remember to stir them from time to time. They will stick together somewhat, so gendy break them apart as you stir.
3. When all of the potatoes are sliced into the pan, season them one more time with salt and pepper and stir so they are all coated with fat. Add the garlic and parsley mixture and stir so that it melts evenly throughout the potatoes, then cook until the potatoes are deep golden on the underside, a generous 10 minutes.