Spring plant markets: where’s the lovage?

May 17th, 2010

Busy plant market in Bergerac's old town

Along with a few peppers and tomato plants, I had an uncommon herb on my list for this season’s plant markets and fairs.  Surely, browsing all the vegetable and flower stalls, I could dig up a source for lovage.  So I inquired: Livèche ou ache de montagne? Rare, madame, très rare – I was told by one plantsman; “go to a specialist nursery” said another.  It was Deborah Madison’s www.culinate.com article on this large culinary and medicinal plant that spurred my search.   She described the herb so enticingly that one corner of my potager has been cleared for a potentially gigantic lovage plant.  The idea of stirring up a cream soup of lovage, topped with frizzle/seared strips of prosciutto made my mouth water.  This seems a perfect starter for a cool spring evening’s dinner.  Having struck out at the Bergerac plant market, my search is not over…perhaps I will find one in the US in a round of Marin markets with my sister in California later in May – or in upstate New York with my daughter.  Going west or east, the quest continues.  Stranger ingredients have been known to find their way into my luggage on return from past trips.  Meanwhile, enjoy your herb-shopping, with the promise of summer meals enhanced with aromatiques straight from your own balcony or herb patch.

Jazz on the corner, a toe tapping interlude for plant shoppers

A spring stroll though Castillonès bastide market

April 29th, 2010

When Alphonse de Poitiers granted the land to build a new bastide town in the 13th century, he chose the site well.  Like most bastides, Castillonès sprawls along a ridge of high ground, in this case straddling two historic regions.  It lies on the southern hem of the Périgord, while being woven into the heart of the ancient Agenais.  For many of us, Agen equals fruit (proclaimed as the prune capital of Europe), while the Périgord is famed for walnuts and poultry.  So on a market visit, be ready for produce and poultry in abundance.  The vagabond is drawn to this hilly region by the expansive panoramas around nearly every turn, a case of the journey being as stunning as the market goodies are delicious.


Click on distant chapel to view photo gallery of  Castillonès market.

This département, the Lot-et-Garonne, rests between Gascony to the south and the Périgord to the north, quietly going about its business which is largely agricultural. As a region slightly off the beaten path, the Agenais is worth a detour:  for Romanesque chapels rising above slopes sponged with white plum blossoms in April and nodding sunflowers through July,  it is a revelation.  And off season, the markets are among the region’s most authentic, least gentrified or tourist-trammeled in the entire Aquitaine.  From mid-May to late September expect crowds, which could be said of any part of the French southwest – unless, like the locals, you grab your basket and shop very early when everything is dew-fresh.

Like Monflanquin and Villefranche-du-Périgord, the town’s focus is on an arcaded market square, where weekly markets and monthly fairs have come and gone for centuries. What was the vagabond looking for on an April morning in Castillonès Tuesday market?  Asparagus, bien sûr, and bedding plants for potagers (vegetable gardens), to be choosen from flats of lettuce, tomato, peppers and squash (lots of vigorous courgettes). We always hunt for honey, and here I not only did we score with local tilleul/linden flower honey, but with a light-on- acidity honey vinegar.  I was delighted to find white cherry tomato plants and other unusual varieties sold by a young couple specializing in biologique/organic plants.  In fact on this visit, I noticed more biologique products lining Castillonès Grande Rue, the lively market street leading off the central square.  Cheese vendors offer a gamut of specialties from firm to crumbly Auvergne Salers and Cantal tommes to local chèvre as well as excellent fromages Corse. Two vendors tempted me with samples of Italian cheese, as well as olives, tortellini and pastries.  With such enticing products, and a lazy day ambiance of having coffee (and a flaky, rum-cream filled pastry) in the shade of  Castillonès arcades, I vowed to return…when stalls groan under loads of melons, tomatoes and freshly picked plums.

Note:  Watch for more on bastide markets in June, for a supper stop in a night market or two…quite a different interpretation of “market”. We will sample the ambiance of  just a few of the 300 bastides scattered across southern and southwestern France.

Add snap to April salads with Sariette d’hiver

April 21st, 2010

Winter savory, ready for a spring trim

This week, suddenly sariette’s tender shoots are ready to be clipped,  strung up in the attic to dry – and while I’m snipping, the peppery fresh taste will also perk up a bean salad for lunch today. Associations with beans – fresh fève or dried cocos- are so strong that in German, it is referred to as the bean herb: Bohnenkraut.  Whether you call it winter savory, sariette des montagnes, savourée, or poivre d’âne, this ancient potherb goes by many names. Greeks dedicated the spicy leaves to Dionysos, dubbing it Herbe à  Satyre for what they considered to be  savory’s aphrodesiac effects. Egyptians used it in medicine for anti-bacterial and anti-fungal properties, and Romans carried savory with them as they settled into far flung lands* and islands  of Europe. Clearly, it was a highly appreciated aromatique.

Poked into a bottle, the herb flavors vinegar

Running through a list of savory’s virtues, I found not only the peppery flavor (giving a bite to Italian salami), its antibacterial effects valued by beekeepers (the chemical thymol in savory used against the varoa mite), and best known is the natural antiflatulence effect of savory cooked with beans and cabbage (as we were saying…Bohnenkraut).  Used before peppercorns were shipped into Europe, as well as during war times when spices were scarce, savory replaces pepper as a seasoning for those with a pepper intolerance.  In Quebec, savory is whisked into mashed potatoes to spark up the purée.  So, if sprigs of this simple herb do everything from aiding digestion to providing more anti-oxidants than many fresh vegetables, why – I wondered – is sariette not more commonly used?  For iron, calcium, manganese, and magnesium, a little savory in salads or snipped into a pot of butter for seasoning vegetables does us all kinds of good. Minced with other herbs, it seasons discs of fresh chèvre – a favorite, I discovered, in markets around Banon where poivre d’âne grows wild in the rugged Provence uplands. Closer to home, take a handful of tender new savory shoots to fill a sterile bottle, fill it with white wine vinegar and cap tightly – then let the sun accent the infusion by putting it on a windowsill for a month. Don’t wait until late in the summer to collect savory, for by then the leaves turn to stiff little spears (not a gum-friendly seasoning at that point)….April is savory harvest time!

The vagabond’s  last note on this ancient herb is a quote from Jean Giono’s  novel set in Provence, where he evoked the power of sariette’s aroma in Le Serpent d’étoiles. Children were bedded down for the night on layers of herbs…”and the weight of their movements released fragrances of savory and lemon balm.”

.”et, sous le poids de leurs gestes, jaillisaient des odeurs de sariette et de citronnelle.”

*A point for gardeners:  Satureja montana grows in zones 6 to 10, and is winter hardy with some protection against long periods below 0°c/32°f.  It becomes a low woody bush and needs pruning both before and after delicate white blossoms appear in May.  The annual, summer savory, has pink blossoms and is easily grown from seed.  For more on the savories, see:  www.herbalcuisine.com/savory.html

The first rhubarb – at last !

April 14th, 2010

Pear blossoms, an April pleasure

The gnarly old pear tree – said to be one hundred years old – is a reassuring sign that April is on track.  This year it is laden with blossoms, which will drift onto the flower bed below before summer’s warmer days bring a cover of greenery.  The variety is a hard winter pear to be picked and ripened in the shade during autumn months. But my attention now turns to the ground, to the potager calling to be spaded and prepared for tomato and pepper plants.  These and lettuce sets are already available at the weekly market, so I am running behind.  In April’s chilly mornings and warm afternoons everything shoots and sprouts at once.

New rhubarb and oranges sanguine...

For weeks, I watched the pink rhubarb stems like a hawk, noting more bundles of leaves ready to unfurl and shoot out from the rich soil near our potager compost heap. It had been a cold winter – just the trigger rhubarb needs for energetic production.  One more day of growth in the clump was all it needed before enough could be pulled to cook, enough for a dish or two of rhubarb sauce, whip, or fool.  So, a dish of  rhubarb sauce lightened with a dash of orange zest is in the picture for our first spring supper outdoors.  Having trimmed and cleaned the slim stalks, I chopped them up to measure almost 2 cups.  A cup of water sweetened with a tablespoon of honey and slivers of orange peel – all heated in a saucepan, ready to simmer the rhubarb, covered, for 10 to 12 minutes – was all it took.  Since oranges sanguine (blood oranges) are still available, I squeezed the juice from a quarter of an orange to give color to the sauce.  This is just enough for 2, but if drained and folded into whipped cream (and a sprinkling of shaved, toasted almonds) it could stretch to serve 4.  With almond cookies, of course.  Longer spring evenings invite a walk ’round the garden after supper – to discover more signs of spring.

Earliest wild orchids - in poor, rocky places

To explore La Vie en Périgord, begin at La Combe

March 26th, 2010

In between intensive culinary programs, a cooking school in the Périgord relaxes with guests for a week of adventures outside the kitchen.  In 1998, when Wendely Harvey left culinary publishing in San Francisco, she embarked upon a new challenge:  organizing classes with top American and Australian cookbook writers and teachers in a French country cooking setting.  But this Australian woman’s energy and enthusiasm for the Périgord overflows into just two or three weeks each season, especially designed for curious travelers.  Beyond a hands-on session or two in the kitchen, most of the la Vie en Périgord week is an adventure in La France profonde.  With the gentle guidance of historian Robert Cave-Rogers, Wendely’s husband and business partner, guests experience a multi-dimensional view of the region.  And if, after caves, castles and markets, you hanker for a glass of wine – Robert can advise on this “natural resource” as well.   For more details, visit their site: www.lacombe-perigord.com Photo at La Combe by Roger Stowell.

A French country fair for all…

March 12th, 2010

Oxen in action

The vagabond expected everything from greens to goats in Le Buisson’s spring fair, Foire aux Bestiaux de St. Vivien. In the tradition of medieval fairs, this event has long been held early in March, on the day of St.Vivien, drawing traders and farmers with their calves, donkeys, horses and sheep. Le Buisson’s  location on the road from Bergerac to Sarlat sprawls across a major intersection, luring shoppers to its Friday morning market and annual foire.  Eager to see what has changed in the passing years since we last strolled through the fair, I could hear load speakers as we approached the center of town.

Tools and plows of yesteryear

Where the stalls of calves, cattle and sheep once lined the aisles, now space was cleared for a demonstration of a working ox team.  Driven by a farmer in clogs and peasant shirt,  it struck me as théatre as he drove his ox team back and forth for over an hour, shouting at the beasts and cracking his stick on their backs if they didn’t go as directed.  A few old plows sat forlornly aside, as pieces of folklore planted next to the oxens’ path. We found no goats, no calves, but there were donkeys and ponies for kids to pet – and one enormous bull to admire (but I wouldn’t venture to touch its broad chestnut back).  A couple appeared to be bargaining for a pair of donkeys, however that was the extent of trading that I observed, and moved along hoping to find a basket in the marché.

Dark willow baskets, for shopping or walnuts

And baskets there were, many shapes and sizes – but not all local.  Instead of the old basket maker I remembered – who demonstrated and readily discussed traditional materials -  a basket dealer had spread his wares on the ground.  But I did find a basket:  a garlic vendor displayed small oval garlic baskets, just what I need to keep this staple at hand until  new shoots of aillet arrive in upcoming weeks.

Pink garlic from Lautrec, a good "keeper"

Relieved that more products from the greater southwest were represented, I popped for garlic and the basket before moving along to chat with a prune seller.  It was clear that he had shucked many walnuts for his oil, spread many plums to dry, pressed chestnuts for purée and was proud of his products – all organic, I was assured. I’ll  cook the prunes in tea and spice to tenderize the skins, we’ll  enjoy them in a simple prune whip or clafoutis, and recall the wizened artisan at the Le Buisson marché.

Prunes, walnuts and chestnuts pass through an artisan's hands

A need for greens…

March 11th, 2010

First spinach & roquette of the season

Early in March, I hunger for greens. After weeks of myriad variations on white endive salad lunches, the menu changes drastically. March brings  snappy spinach salads with hot bacon dressing, the bite of roquette/rocket in a mixed toss of lettuces – and especially parsley mixed into everything.  All of this is inspiration to stir up a bowl of  spring tabouli, with scallions and heaps of just-plucked parsley and mint. Today all of the above were packed into my basket at the épicerie, toted along main street and hauled up the hill.  But I have to admit it was not all strictly local (if one sticks to the 100 mile radius to define local) produce, as I noted the spinach was from the Perpignan area – but still it grew in southern France, not on a distant shore.  And when the shopkeeper, Francis, agreed that it was a fine cluster of spinach he added the usual:  “Are you going to draw it before you cook it?”  Oui!

Why greens, why now?  Just when we are ready for a spring tonic, nature’s own detox system is right there in a pot of fresh, dark greens. The chlorophyl in greens acts to rid the blood of toxins, among many other benefits. Greens help stabilize the body’s PH, balancing the acid and alkaline in our systems. Greens’ hefty amount of antioxidants stimulate the immune system to fight spring colds and flu germs. But that’s not all:  phytonutrients in greens fight the ravages of age and pollution on our eyes.  Don’t forget the Popeye story of  “eat your spinach for iron and strong muscles” – not only iron, but potassium, magnesium, calcium, B, K, C, E vitamins  – a load of enzymes and nutrients for bodies to better function. Oh, before I forget, to stimulate brain function, greens’ omega-3 essential fatty acids go to work for us. It is clearly time to stir up a soup with greens, this time adding mussels for a dash of zinc and texture.  Watch for the recipe …soon.

It's almost time to mow the sprouts - more greens...

What’s coming into your markets to inspire and satisfy? I am curious…

Welcome spring’s lighter, longer days

March 7th, 2010

Woodland daffodils, tiny but hardy

Waves of grey cranes float like ribbons of pencil-dashes across the sky, sending their burbling cries, and always a frisson of delight down my spine:  nature is on time, for another season.  It’s not that frosty nights are over, but the daylight hours now let the vagabond dig in the garden until suppertime.  March means a list of favorite tasks can be ticked off – black currant bush and a merlot vine are pruned, old aster stalks are cut and borders cleared of dry leaves, while I note that red knobs of rhubarb and the earliest peony shoots are slowly nosing through. All these signs of spring are a little tardy this year, as are the greens in the market. For vagabondgourmand readers, March holds more on greens, a visit to a French country livestock fair, a peek at a Périgord cooking school, and some lamb and kasha to keep us fortified for longer hours outdoors.  Bienvenue mars!

Snowdrop lingering in a shady corner

For the apple of my eye…

February 13th, 2010

Apples, always there....for something special

What’s best with Valentine’s Day ever-seductive chocolate dessert? This time, the vagabond stirs up a creamy semifreddo of spiced apples with densely chocolate brownies.  Not a brownie fan?  If you prefer… a chocolate clafoutis, or cocoa-chocolate chip cookies…

Devilish Almond Brownies, a one-pan prep couldn’t be easier:

90 g./3 oz. bittersweet dark chocolate, chopped up

75 g./6 T. sweet butter, chopped up

185 g./3/4 cup sugar

2 large fresh eggs

1 tsp. vanilla extract + twist of black pepper

30 g./1 oz. bittersweet chocolate, chopped up

50 g./ 1/2 cup flour + 1/2 tsp. salt

1/3 c. chopped candied ginger + 3 T. chopped almonds (plus some for top)

Butter an 8 inch baking pan, flour the bottom. Set oven at 177°F/350°f. and put rack in middle of the oven.

In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, melt the butter + chopped dark chocolate, stirring ’til smooth – watch that  it doesn’t scorch.  Take the pan off the heat, let cool and whisk in sugar, vanilla, and eggs one by one, whisking as it turns glossy and smooth, then add the 1 oz. of chopped chocolate.

Using a wooden spoon or rubber spatula, stir in the flour, candied ginger and chopped almonds (reserve 1 T. for topping). Pour into the prepared pan and spread evenly, then sprinkle chopped almonds on top. Bake for about 30 + minutes – until the top has puffed slightly and cracked; test with a BBQ skewer, no crumbs should be sticking to it. Let cool completely. Cut and serve with the creamy apples…

A dessert for Valentines, anniversary, or...?

The semifreddo begins a day in advance, making applesauce  in a heavy saucepan:

1 cup of water + 2/3 cup sugar to dissolve + 1/2 vanilla bean, split

4 – 5 apples, peeled & cored, sliced. Include some quince, if possible.

1/2 cup thick crème fraîche, a twist of nutmeg, 1 tsp. ginger

1/3 cup heavy cream, whipped to double volume

1 T. lemon juice

When the apples have cooked in the sugar-syrup until they are translucent, let cool and blend with a wand-blender, add the lemon juice and measure this to 2 cups applesauce. (It can be somewhat chunky if you like the texture). Fold in the crème fraîche and whipped cream, pour into a sorbet pan and freeze for 4 hours – then stir it up with a fork to break ice crystals. Freeze overnight. To serve, slice or scoop out onto plates with  squares or triangles of almond brownies.   The Brownies are adapted from a recipe in Gourmet, 1996. Having double-tested this, the vagabond’s village had an electricity cut just after the brownies were baked -  lucky timing.  But more important, even with only candle light, fragrant blossoms in the air…..

Jasmine in bloom - the ultimate mood enhancer...

Soup with a twist

February 9th, 2010

Lemons ready.... for soup

There is a point in winter when my soup répertoire sags a little. What root can be added, what spice and snap can I stir in?  A perk-up for chicken or vegetable soup is in order. When one eats soup every day (in provincial France, still very common), before or as the evening meal, there must be something beyond tourain (a garlic-infused broth with slices of yesterday’s baguette) or soupe au pistou (many vegetables in a savory broth, somewhat like minestrone).  These are basics – along with velouté de potimarron (winter squash purée) and châtaigne (chestnut cream) -  filling soups for workers’ lunches in auberges and restaurants routiers (truck stops) across the southwest. There’s nothing wrong with those if you are chopping wood or building a barn.  Let’s simply say I’m looking to lighten up a first course soup. To do just that I look south to Greece…. and find lemons.

Whether this Mediterranean combination of eggs and lemons is a silky soup or a sauce, Avgolemono wakes up any bored diner’s tastebuds. Whisk eggs and lemon juice, stir into a chicken broth, heat through and serve – what could be easier?  I first tasted avgolemono (stress middle syllable…avgo Le mono) in a Greek Taverna in Chicago – on Halsted Street as I recall,  it seems eons ago – where my papilles (taste buds) were duly impressed.  And it was an introduction to pastina, tiny oval pastas that look like rice.  Most recipes begin with: cook a three pound chicken, etc. , but you could easily base this on last month’s basic soup stock (post of January 22), and add a cupful of chopped chicken or serve salted chicken on the side.  As with any use of fresh eggs, temperatures need to be watched carefully so curdling doesn’t spoil the soup.  Use white rice or pastina - i prefer “langue des oiseaux“, birds tongues pastina available in specialty shops selling Mediterranean products.

To serve 4, once you have  heated 4 cups of broth in a small soup pot, toss in 1/3 cup of pastina or long grain white rice to cook, covered for 20 minutes while you whisk the avgolemono in a bowl:

2 large, fresh eggs, whisked for 3 minutes

juice of 1 or 2 lemons (2 if you like it tart) & thin lemon slices for garnish; 1 lemon yields about 1/4 cup juice

Add the lemon juice to the eggs, beating constantly – then gradually blend in 1 cup of hot stock from the soup pot, continue beating without interruption, and pour this mixture into the soup, stirring (for 5 to 10 minutes) as it thickens slightly. It should be satiny smooth and the pastina or rice translucent at this point. This last-minute trick depends on the cook’s concentration, stirring as the soup warms. Garnish each bowl with a lemon slice or parsley sprig.

Avgolemono as a sauce can be made in a similar way, using a double boiler or dish over (never touching the water) a pan of boiling water.  Myrsini Lambraki* suggests sauce proportions of 1 egg to the juice of 1 lemon, a pinch of salt and 1/2 cup or more of the vegetable stock whisked in to the desired thickness.  Separate the whites and yolks for a frothier sauce, and serve on fish, asparagus, courgettes, broccoli or cauliflower (this is superb).  A Greek friend warns – never serve avgolemono with tomatoes or garlic, but suggests topping each serving with cracked black pepper or minced Greek oregano.  That, or a sprinkling of chopped fresh mint on top will transport you to a taverna table overlooking the Agean.

*Myrsini Lambraki’s useful Cretan Cuisine for Everyone, published by Myrsini Edition in 2005, emphasizes vegetables and explains the principles of the Mediterranean diet pyramid.

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