Another Food Blog

This ought to be in every student’s recipe book. It’s quick, easy, and very appetizing. I brown the lamb mince first in a pan, spooning off the fatty liquid and replacing it with a little hot water. Then some ground pepper, a little cayenne pepper even, and to bring out the flavour of the meat, a few dashes of brown sauce, something like A1 steak sauce.

You can use instant mashed potato for the topping, but tart it up with a little butter, milk and salt if you like it that way. When it’s been put on top of the meat in the pie-dish, use a fork to make the grooves across its surface. I then add small knobs of butter or sunflower spread regularly spaced on top. This melts and runs into the grooves to give it a slightly crusted surface when cooked. Bake it in the oven at 180 degrees for 25-30 minutes.

Its rich taste belies its humble origins and the tricks you used along the way. I eat it with some easy green vegetable like garden peas or French beans. It’s cheap, fast and flavoursome, and virtually foolproof.

A strange letter appeared in the Times on Tuesday:

Sir, My wife and I enjoy drinking wine but are finding it increasingly difficult to find acceptable bottles. Why are producers increasing alcoholic strengths from 12 per cent to 14 per cent and beyond? It means we can no longer enjoy drinking a bottle leisurely throughout a meal — too much alcohol, and impaired taste.

It is a strange comment because many wine tasters take strength to be a proxy for taste. Very roughly the more fermentation which takes place, the more alcohol, and the more by-products which give a wine its taste. The notion that alcohol impairs taste is strange, to say the least. It is true that there are more stronger wines available. I have come across four at 14.5 percent in the last week alone. This is because UK tastes have gone up-market, and wines which are fuller in taste now have a ready market. The easy solution for the letter writer is to water his wine, as the Greeks did.

I tried green tea and found it flower-like and fragrant, but don’t think I’ll make it my regular tea. It seems weak by comparison. My regular tea is the premium supermarket line, drunk black, without milk or sugar. For special occasions or when the whim strikes me, I drink Early Grey or Lapsang Souchong. Wikipedia tells us that “Lapsang souchong is a tea which has been withered over pine or cedar fires, pan-fried, rolled and oxidized before being fully dried in bamboo baskets over burning pine. The result is a smoky, earthy brew with a dominant scent and flavor of campfires, which overlies the flavor of the black tea itself.”

It might have been a happy accident, but it has produced a very fine tea.

Legend claims that the smoking process was discovered by accident. During the Qing dynasty, an army unit passing through Xingcun (Star Village) camped in a tea factory filled with fresh leaves awaiting processing. When the soldiers left and the workers could get back into the premises, they realized that to arrive at market in time, it was too late to dry the leaves in the usual way. So they lit open fires of pine wood to hasten the drying.

Fermented and flavoured with pine smoke. Now that’s fragrant. One entry says it is good with salty foods, while another says it is an acquired taste which tends to appeal to those who also like cigars and malt whisky. They got that bit right.

William, Duke of Normandy, sailed from Dives-sur-mer in 1066 with over 600 ships. The town enjoyed that reputation for hundreds of years. Then on June 6th 1944, six thousand ships opened fire at dawn to herald a somewhat larger invasion a few miles down the coast. Now everyone wants to see the Normandy beaches rather than Dives.

However, two restaurants in the artists’ quarter, the historic but tiny ‘village d’art’ remind us of Duke William. One is L’Écurie de Guillaume (his stable). It looks as though it might have been one, even though it cannot be old enough. It is charming and rustic, with equine accoutrements, and attracts a mostly local clientele. I ate the rabbit terrine, which came with a nice apple marmalade, then an escalope of turkey flambée in Calvados sauce vallée d’auge. Calvados, Normandy’s apple brandy, improves with age, so that the vintage ones command quite high prices.

My fellow diner went for the fixed price menu at 24.5 euros, starting with camembert chaud caramelisé. There was an intermediate course of six snails, ‘escargots persillés,’ and then the main course, magret of duck in a honey sauce, which was described as “excellent.” Then came a plate of Normandy cheeses, and finally a crème caramel. Wow. That lot would have kept me going for a week. The wine was a Loire rosé, Domaine de la Motte at 12 percent, which wouldn’t.

After I flew a couple of kites above Cabourg beach, a cormorant provided entertainment at Dives harbour by diving for fish. It came up with one glittering and wriggling in its beak, and it took three tosses of that long neck before it gulped the fish down.

Then it was time for La Passerelle which, now the season is over, opens only at weekends. Knowing from experience how huge the starter courses there are, I settled for 6 escargots de Bourgogne. These came still in their shells with garlic butter, and had to be prized loose. I followed them with leg of guinea fowl cooked in cider with a little cream, which is the standard Normandy sauce (the region is famous for its apples and dairy products). It was a large leg, with the meat softened by the cider, and tasted delicious. The wine with this was a Sauvignon Tourraine, Domaine de la Rochette, 2004, at 12 percent.

My fellow diner opted for the 25.50 euro menu (there were cheaper ones). The moules Normandes came first. Cooked like moules marinières, they have crême fraiche added, giving the sauce a milkier texture and a creamier taste. The main course chosen was magret de canard, cooked in a mustard grain sauce. It was an unusual combination, but the verdict was that duck and mustard worked well. The third course consisted of a couple of Normandy cheeses. The waitress amusingly advised that the Pont l’Éveque should be eaten before the more powerful Livarot spoiled the taste of it.

The fourth course was what we’d been waiting for. It was the moelleux de chocolat, which is the stuff of legend. A dense, moist sponge, halfway between a sponge and a brownie, and containing liquid chocolate which oozed out as it was broached. It was accompanied by an egg and milk custard which had never seen a powder in its life. Perfection. And the experience of a splendid meal was enhanced by the contented snoring (in French) of a labrador stretched out on the floor.

Over in Deauville on Saturday to check arrangements at the airport, we decided to pop into Trouville for lunch at Les Vapeurs.  Deauville and Trouville are effectively one, but divided by the harbour and estuary.  There is an engaging ferry service which connects the two on a five-minute trip which costs about a euro, but most people drive over the bridges which join the twin towns.

Les Vapeurs is something of an institution, with a reputation for excellent seafood.  It is nearly always busy, even with outside tables in a kind of marquee at the front.  Inside the decor is chic 1920s and 30s, with plant-festooned mirrors and excellent period posters.  Most of its quality seafood comes from the harbour across the street.

We both began with the fresh anchovies which came in a huge pile covering a small mountain of olive oil potatoes.  The anchovies were outstanding.  Then one of us had the Brittany sardines grilled whole.  Those used only to tinned sardines wouldn’t recognize these monsters, but they tasted spicy and sharp, and well worth the effort it took to extract the bones.  The other dish was escalope of poached salmon, fresh and delicate in thin slices.  It came with boiled potatoes and a butter sauce. 

The wine was a Pisotte blanc (Xavier Coirier) which I’d never heard of before, but it went perfectly with fish.  It’s easy to see why this place is famous.

The fixed price menus are among the nice things about eating out in France. They can offer extraordinary value. At Cabourg’s La Belle Epoche on Friday, my fellow diner opted for the 21 euro three course set menu, with a choice of four or five dishes for each course. That’s about £14. The warm goat’s cheese salad with walnuts and caramelized onions came first, and then the roast rack of lamb “à la fleur de sel de Guérande,” whatever that meant. It came pink, as asked for. Both were reported to be delicious, as was the tarte tatin which completed the meal. All came in huge portions, especially the tarte with a tub of cream alongside.

I, less hungry, chose the sauté de Saint Jacques (scallops) “au pommeau fermier.” They were large and satisfying, perfectly cooked. I noticed that my one main course came in at 22.5 euros, more than the entire meal my dining companion chose. The same was true of the Bandol rosé chosen to accompany it. It was La Cadiérenne 2004, and despite its 14 percent clout, was surprisingly uncomplex. It mildly irks me that wines which cost so little in French supermarkets cost so much more in restaurants, or that the excellent value in restaurant food is rarely matched in wine.

Afterwards, on a still-warm evening we sat outside under a Japanese paper lantern, and enjoyed port and Cuban cigars as we watched bats plucking insects out of the night sky.