I wasn’t really looking for a cooking school when the phone rang yesterday, but after a conversation with one of the directors of Flavours Holidays, the seed of an idea was planted. Now that Flavours have added painting class holidays and pilates weeks, their range of appealing themes has expanded. In fact, painting with well known artist, Penelope Anstice in Sicily tempts the Vagabond to dream of being there. But the core of their well organized programs lies in Tuscany, enticingly near Lucca to be specific, where cooking classes roll with the spring and summer season’s market-fresh produce. That means learning to make not only ravioli filled with Tuscan greens and Pisan pine nuts, but stuffed zucchini blossoms as well – after a round in the market to find the ingredients; very Tuscan, very local.  So, if you are searching among the confusing lists of on-site cooking classes in Italy,  narrow down your options for a culinary getaway quickly.  For details about Flavours, run by an experienced team, see:  www.flavoursholidays.co.uk and www.flavoursofitaly.blogspot.com

Your vacation plans might focus on hiking, diving, fishing or…why not cooking?  Next month’s Go Cooking will be in the Périgord and a wine school in Puglia…stay tuned.

Click on lamp post to view Versailles market gallery

Versailles in winter is truly overflowing with treasures, royal and otherwise.  It’s just a ten minute ride on the Transilienne train from Paris Montparnasse (lowest level) station. A bus from Versailles “Chantiers” station takes you to Notre Dame market, its square framed by a halle on each corner.  On a recent Friday, we were plunged into a hubub of activity:  vendors of cheese, fruit and flowers, salt and sausages fill the marketplace center, an intersection traversed by buses and bicycles dodging shoppers.  From clementines to fancy terrines, there are more upscale victuals to the square foot than any market I have ever seen. The vagabond was astonished by the cheeses alone, stall after richly appointed stall of fromages from across France and beyond.  Hankering for a wedge of gorgonzola , mimolette or spiced gouda, herbed chèvre from Provence, or curls of parmigiano-reggiano? This is your hunting ground.  Inside the halls, fish from all waters, glistening eyes a sign they are fresh today, are spread in a seemingly endless array. Sole, rouget or barbet/red mullet, rosy rascasse/red scorpion fish, and even slabs of dried morue/cod appeal to a variety of shoppers. With over thirty permanent stalls inside the halls open daily, and seventy vendors outside on Tuesdays and Saturdays, Versailles draws Ile-de-France shoppers to the best selection west of Paris.

And when it is time for a short break, step up to a plate of oysters and a glass of Muscadet – the only on-the-spot eating option I noted in Versailles halls. In the mood for something salty? Greek olives, capers, all sorts of pickled veg are ready to be scooped up. Almond-studded cornes de gazelle, among many honey-glazed Middle Eastern sweets tempted the vagabond during this market romp. Of course the market answers gift-shoppers’ quandries, too:  a little oval salt cellar with a wooden scoop, colorful packets of sugar-dusted fruit paste tied with a ribbon, even a chocolate Santa Claus will win up in someone’s stocking.

Try just a slice, or buy an entire terrine for a “festive first”
All of these market aromas and visual delights can trigger appetites, so shoppers need not look beyond the halls’ periphery – take a few steps and you are sitting in the sun with a coffee or a tall Belgian beer. We joined the locals at a corner café bar, the Franco-Belge on rue du Baillage for hearty traditional fare. When the vagabond tucked into a mound of choux-farci, she thought it would easily serve four…an hour later, the waiter removed the empty plate. Markets do stimulate appetites!  After lunch, a stroll through eighteenth century ruelles of the Bailliage antique dealers’ quarter led past fifty shops filled with everything from arm chair frames (which Louis ?…. don’t ask) to lamps, statuettes and paintings. In fact, this first visit to Versailles was an appetizer, with a follow-up planned for April…to find signs of spring in the Potager du Roi.

Getting to Versailles: Trains to Versailles Rive Droit station run regularly from Gare St.Lazare and take about 30 minutes (closest to center). From Gare Montparnasse, it takes about 10 minutes, but is a 20 minute walk from Gare Versailles Chantier on the outskirts.  Or take the RER from St.Michel metro stop or Quai d’Orsay stop, about a 40 minute ride to V. Rive Gauche stop.

Inside tips: Tempted to linger for more than one day, especially when the Versailles center for Baroque music has a full concert schedule? Watch the concert listings on www.versailles-tourisme.com . Even on a slim budget, Versailles for a weekend is a treat:  Hôtel Cheval Rouge faces the market place, and has 38 reasonably priced rooms (less than 90 Euros for a double room) – simple, and recently renovated.  Located near the Rive Droit station for trains from Paris, it is five minutes’ walk to the château and gardens. Visit: www.chevalrouge.fr.st for map and information in English.  Or, rent a car in Versailles for a few days and venture another 10 kilometers on the route to Dreux to stay in a dreamy B&B, www.clos-saint-nicolas.com.  For 90 Euros a double room is yours, with breakfast in the conservatory….and do visit the Grand Marnier distillery in the village of Neauphle-le-Château. The 1810 mansion has just three guest rooms, so reserve in advance for a remarkable base to explore the historic region.

Russet vines in the Roussillon

The sun was riding low on the horizon when we reached Montséret in the Roussillon, where a sundown hike through brassy and burnished russets of late October grape vines capped off a full first day on the road. We couldn’t have ordered better weather for an autumn whirl through Corbières country, a wine region of astonishing variety of climate and altitude. Historically, the Languedoc-Roussillon stretches from the Spanish border south of Collioure and Banyuls, curving along the Mediterranean coast to the mouth of the Rhône river in Provence.  Now the vineyards of this rugged region, planted over 700,000 acres (2,800square meters) of land, produce more than a third of French wines. And although the range of wines runs heavily to robust reds, there are remarkable rosés and crisp whites to be tasted as well.  For color and dramatic vistas, the Roussillon gets the vagabond’s vote for a late autumn escapade.

Fontfroide Abbey entry gate

Historic sites are a major draw to this region of southern France, and our focus for the trip was the Abbey of Fontfroide, west of Narbonne. Oddly enough, we arrived just in time for a leisurely lunch – not unusual timing when the vagabond is on the road – before an hour’s tour of this other-worldly place. The Cistercian abbey was built in 1145 AD on the site of an earlier Benedictine abbey, hidden in a deep valley.  Within  its seemingly tranquil walls, a murder occurred that launched the Albigensian crusade, persecuting Cathar believers for over thirty years.  Silhouettes of ruined Cathar castles punctuate today’s Roussillon landscape; it all began at Fontfroide.*

La Table de Fontfroide

The Table of Fontfroide, a restaurant housed in what was once the monks’ storage and stables, offers a range of meals, from light snacks to substantial lunches.  We were hungry and opted for the appealing and well priced (under 25 Euro) menu du jour.  With a glass of deep garnet-toned Corbières, I savored a meaty pintade (guinea fowl) thigh set on a bed of the chef’s spicy ratatouille: perfect partners.  During lunch, we were entertained by a haughty peacock just outside the window, apparently interested in what was on our plates.  In medieval times, the powerful bishops of Fontfroide would have dined on peacocks!

Pintade à la ratatouille

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Notes on pairing Corbières wines to follow.

*The vagabond recommends The Rebel Princess, a novel by Judith K. Healey, set in this region in the 13th century. Recently released by HarperCollins (U.S. & Canada), read more about the gripping story on: www.therebelprincessanovel.com

Click on an apple to enter photo gallery

When it’s apple season in the Limousin, a new range of reds appears on market-day palettes.  And on a recent weekend jaunt into la France profunde south of Limoges, apples of all tints and tones were just one discovery. We drove uphill from Bergerac, north through Périgord vert and truffle country around Sorges, then into Thiviers, the “foie gras capital” of the southwest (as signs proclaimed), before cruising past a sign of welcome into the Haute Vienne département. Still green country, but open rolling pastures dotted with lazy herds of russet cattle distinguish the Limousin landscape. Sheep snooze in shady meadow hedgerows. Solid fieldstone houses with shiny slate roofs replace the gentle curves of Périgord tiled rooftops and apple orchards replace the Dordogne’s walnut groves. Our first stop, the Friday market in Chalus, was winding down as noon approached but fruit vendors, chèvre cheese makers, and a vendor of plant sets for the next round in local potagers (vegetable gardens) seemed most popular.  Chalus’ medieval tower rises at the edge of this small town, a place that (with mixed interpretations) is said to mark the demise of Richard the Lionhearted – felled by an arrow shot from that tower. As I walked the old lanes around the tower, did I hear echoes of clanging armor and battle cries across the open fields?  No, but with an active imagination that wouldn’t be difficult.  The vagabond was eager to continue along the apple trail, and to note signs announcing Le pays de la châtaigne, chestnut country.  Now the plot thickens. Beef, veal, and lamb abound, apple trees are plentiful, and I begin to imagine an ample chestnut harvest. The verdant Limousin appears to be a pays de cocagne, a land of plenty!

Apple & onion basics: nutmeg & white pepper

Back on the hill, foggy, damp autumn mornings call for applesauce with toasted brioche, then about lunchtime the beet salad is perked up with green granny smith apples – but the apples won’t stop with lunchtime: magret de canard is best (personal opinion) with caramelized reinette apples and slices of sweet Cévennes onion.  Is there no stopping this versatile fruit?  Nope.  As quick as you can say pomme, there are slices for snacks and, given a handful of minutes, a simple French apple & almond cake is whipped up.  Asked what to do with an apple (but don’t ask William Tell!), the simplest solutions seem best.  Memories of my Danish grandmother making Aebblekaka (not a cake, but layers of applesauce and buttery breadcrumbs) roll in when aromas of applesauce fill our kitchen.

While my search for her recipe continues, I will just  serve up a variation on Magret de canard aux pommes, which adapts to larger numbers very nicely.  This is for two:  Take one breast of fattened duck, trimmed and the fat layer scored with a sharp knife, and sear it on the fat side in a hot cast iron skillet for a few minutes to render fat and slightly brown it. Remove this to a warm plate, pour off all but 1/4 cup of fat, and add 1 peeled sharp-flavored apple sliced lengthwise. Let this brown in the pan, sprinkle with a little brown sugar and sea salt, turning gently to let all sides caramelize. Add a spoonful of duck fat when needed; push this to one side and add 1 trimmed and finely sliced sweet onion (such as a Vidalia), stir it around and as it turns transparent add freshly ground white pepper, grated nutmeg, minced ginger root and another spoonful of brown sugar. Stir, let it melt down and add 2 tablespoons of dry vermouth (or red wine to moisten and add color) to avoid scorching. When golden and transparent, shift this to a warm, covered dish and return the magret to the hot skillet, to sear the lean side. After 5 minutes, add the onion-apple mixture to the pan heaped on the magret and cook until it is done to your liking: very pink for just a few more minutes, or another 8 – 10 minutes cooked through.  Serve on warmed plates, thinly sliced on the diagonal, garnished with the apples and onions. A side of brown rice or steamed brussel sprouts would be good with the magret, and for sipping? A youngish red wine, a 2004 Prémières Côtes de Bordeaux would be good company – at the very end of a foggy fall day.

Up soon:  More on markets, Grandmother’s applecake, and a simple apple charlotte; making fresh cheese is taking awhile….

Did the vagabond expect to munch on divine garlic bread in western France?  No, but why not – then again, the egg-rich Brioche Vendéen bread is so much better known.  The cuisine of the Poitou Charente and Vendée regions seldom is given more than passing mention in guidebooks.  Usually it is the stuffed vegetables of the Poitou, the slick and mellow Charente butter, or matelote (eels cooked in wine with herbs – don’t ask), mojette beans, and melon cubes dripping with Pineau des Charentes that make up a short list of  regional specialties.  References to préfou are rare, even on menus posted outside cafés; no recipes are found on the net or in old, reliable cookbooks.  But there they were, a few crisp strips of garlic-soaked toast on my Salade Maraîchier plate in the charming Charente village of Arçais.  So very good, so easy to replicate, it seemed.  Back in my kitchen on the hill, the urge to try making a batch of préfou was too hard to resist.

In days gone by, before baking many loaves in the four à pain, a lump of dough was pinched off, patted flat and popped into the oven to test the temperature.  Préfour (four is oven in French) then would be pre-baking, as my best guess at the etymology for préfou. In the lower Vendée, along the Charente border, the custom was to rub the warm bread with a clove of  garlic and spread it with freshly churned butter. A glass of the crisp, local white wine or a sip of eau de vie would go down nicely with this humble treat, as one could imagine.

A wedge of fresh butter, plump garlic, and bread ready for préfou!

The bread for the simple garlic and butter-soaked wonder begins with a basic  fougasse dough (for this batch, I used 500 ml/2 cups potato water seasoned with a bay leaf, 450 g./4 cups bread flour (spoon flour into cup, tap and level), a pinch of salt and 1/2 tsp. dry yeast, and oiled hands to shape the dough – use directions in the (12 June 2009) fougasse post – and let it rise overnight).  Instead of an oval or leaf, shape it in a rectangle on a baking sheet and slit at 2 inch intervals, making the préfou fingers easier to separate after baking. The above proportions make enough dough for 1 préfou and 1 small loaf of bread. You may need more flour, depending on the humidity of the day and type of flour used. Sprinkle fine cornmeal under the  préfou and a little over the top. Heat the oven to 220°c./425°f., place the pans in the oven and spray with spritzes of water, then turn the heat down to 200°c/400°f. and bake for 12 minutes.  The following day, slice the préfou horizontally, separate the fingers of bread, spread each piece with a mixture of crushed, juicy new garlic mixed with soft butter, and put the fingers back together. Wrap in foil, and at this point, let it rest for a couple of hours or overnight, then heat it in a warm oven (or over the coals of a grill) to melt the butter. Clearly, this is best made ahead of time. Tradition says:  serve with apéritifs. But préfou goes well with a green salad or cold soup on blisteringly hot summer days.  After my  first encounter with préfou, I anticipate serving it as a garlicky side with a dish of mojettes jambon …..as the season turns – and September, the moment for shelling mojettes, is just around the corner.

With dreams of strolling along the sea, the vagabond was eager to adjust to a slower pace and explore the ports of La Rochelle.  Anticipation grew during the two hour train ride from Bordeaux, a route passing through woodlands, pastures and broad fields of wheat and sunflowers. The region, Charente Maritime, is wedged along France’s Atlantic coast above Bordeaux’s Médoc vineyards and below the flat fields of the Vendée. For centuries, the hub city of La Rochelle has been a crossroads  of commerce, culture and politics – all evident in the city’s diverse architecture, bearing traces of wars and conflict. The first destination was a long walk on La Rochelle’s ramparts, and though it was a very hot Sunday afternoon, a cool edge on the Atlantic breeze perked up a tired traveler.  It was not difficult to imagine schooners loaded with spices, cotton, and strange New World products approaching this deep-draught port. I could also picture carts hauling trunks to be loaded

onto immigrant ships carrying Huguenot Protestants, about to embark for North American shores.  I am sure that they tucked in an accordian or fiddle,  grandmother’s recipes, the family Bible – and dreams of a new life.

Towers still mark La Rochelle’s harbor on the Bay of Biscay, but pleasure boats of all sizes – cruising in to shop or to dine well – have replaced frigates and schooners of times past.  Plenty of boutiques line streets of the old town and choosing which café or restaurant offers the best Moules Marininières can be a confusing menu-study game. A steaming bowl of  Moules de Bouchot (mussels grown on a post) a dish of plump shellfish in a rich saffron sauce, was the vagabond’s choice of starter at Restaurant 4 Sergents.  The professional serving staff scurried between 90 places in this unusual setting, an early nineteenth century open-court building. The thick, leather bound winelist offered a good sampling of regional wines:  we chose a pleasant Orfeo, a 2005 merlot made less than an hour away from La Rochelle near the town of Vix.  To sum up the dining experience, it is on my list of  “must return in another season” destinations on the Atlantic coast.  In fact, the list of reasons for a repeat visit ranges beyond the restaurants, the spotless market hall packed with fish, cheese, chickens, meat and bread specialties, to museums and galleries worth a second look. There is much more to explore in the Charente..watch for market details and photos next week.

Traveler’s note: Reserve a table a day in advance at Restaurant 4 Sergents at 49, rue Saint-Jean, La Rochelle. Tel. 05 46 41 35 80.  Inviting menus change with the seasons.

Coming up in August:  Making fresh cheese, a recipe for Préfou from Arçais, and simmering cherry tomato chutney.