All of the below, with the welcome addition of some cool, sweet melon charentais and Bayonne ham (delectable), foie gras as made by my mother (divine decadence!), a thimbleful of champagne, salade verte to my heart's content, clafoutis de cerise and more I can't quite remember now...
*burp*
I love going home - can you tell?
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
Things I am looking forward to eating in France
On Friday morning, I leave for Toulouse to catch up with family and a beach holiday. Despite my repeat reminders to myself to focus on the here and now, I just can't wait to go home, lounge around and read non-improving books.
Here are some of the things I am really looking forward to eating:
Haricots verts
As a child, we used to dread haricot vert season because it was just so intense. First, we'd have to pick the damn things early in the morning before it got too hot. Then they would feature at lunch and possibly at dinner too. For what felt like weeks on end. Plus they were green. And ubiquitous. We didn't know how lucky we were.
The haricots verts you get in Sweden are wrong in all sorts of ways. First of all, I have been spoiled when it comes to freshness. I mean come on, you pick in the morning to eat at lunch - can't really get fresher than that. Also they come from East Africa which is great for East African farmers, but not so great for the old carbon footprint. Nor is it great for the food budget - outrageous prices! Finally, they are just too stringy for this haricot snob.
Magret de canard
Duckbreast, but actually I'd be glad for any part of the duck to be honest. It should be cooked over a woodfire, bright pink in the middle and served with parsleyed pommes sautées cooked in duck fat. Hells bells, I am drooling already.
White peaches
These delicate little beauties are hard to find abroad because they don't travel well. But the rewards! Sweet, juicy and parfumée, they are perfect after any meal as you let the juices run down your wrists. They spell summer for me.
Le plateau de fromage
This year, I will forgo all soft unpasteurised cheeses. It's a tough thing to do, but at least I will be consoled by the likes of Ossau Iraty and other Pyrenees cheese made with cow or ewe's milk. Sharp yet creamy, they are absolutely delicious with a good piece of baguette (my mother has informed me that she has ordered daily fresh bread - I am in heaven). We do not bother with crackers, digestives, fruit or other preserves here, it is just pure unadulterated cheese bliss.
Salade de tomates
Not a fancy dish by any means, and probably not with homegrown tomatoes either, but with a sharp red wine vinegar dressing and some finely chopped red onion, this is another summer starter hit. I can feel the sweet acidy taste hitting my tongue now, soothed by the olive oil... The juices get soaked up with a piece of bread. Heaven.
Here are some of the things I am really looking forward to eating:
Haricots verts
As a child, we used to dread haricot vert season because it was just so intense. First, we'd have to pick the damn things early in the morning before it got too hot. Then they would feature at lunch and possibly at dinner too. For what felt like weeks on end. Plus they were green. And ubiquitous. We didn't know how lucky we were.
The haricots verts you get in Sweden are wrong in all sorts of ways. First of all, I have been spoiled when it comes to freshness. I mean come on, you pick in the morning to eat at lunch - can't really get fresher than that. Also they come from East Africa which is great for East African farmers, but not so great for the old carbon footprint. Nor is it great for the food budget - outrageous prices! Finally, they are just too stringy for this haricot snob.
Magret de canard
Duckbreast, but actually I'd be glad for any part of the duck to be honest. It should be cooked over a woodfire, bright pink in the middle and served with parsleyed pommes sautées cooked in duck fat. Hells bells, I am drooling already.
White peaches
These delicate little beauties are hard to find abroad because they don't travel well. But the rewards! Sweet, juicy and parfumée, they are perfect after any meal as you let the juices run down your wrists. They spell summer for me.
Le plateau de fromage
This year, I will forgo all soft unpasteurised cheeses. It's a tough thing to do, but at least I will be consoled by the likes of Ossau Iraty and other Pyrenees cheese made with cow or ewe's milk. Sharp yet creamy, they are absolutely delicious with a good piece of baguette (my mother has informed me that she has ordered daily fresh bread - I am in heaven). We do not bother with crackers, digestives, fruit or other preserves here, it is just pure unadulterated cheese bliss.
Salade de tomates
Not a fancy dish by any means, and probably not with homegrown tomatoes either, but with a sharp red wine vinegar dressing and some finely chopped red onion, this is another summer starter hit. I can feel the sweet acidy taste hitting my tongue now, soothed by the olive oil... The juices get soaked up with a piece of bread. Heaven.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
The routine of no routine
Here at No Direction Home, no two days are ever exactly alike. That definitely sounds more exciting than what reality has to offer. There are of course repeat events, the bookends of the day. Early morning and nightime routines are usually the same, but the sandwich filling in the middle certainly gets mixed up over the week.
Mornings usually kick off with a very British tea and toast combo while reading the morning papers online. I've cancelled the GP subscription because a) I cannot be bothered with its incessant whining and b) piles of newspapers EVERYWHERE. Once I've surfaced, I have one of two choices: cycle into work for a morning of language instruction or stay at home and hack away at a translation project.
Evenings are worryingly the same: dinner slumped in front of the telly (current obsession: Game of Thrones), then ablutions and an hour's worth of reading about the Nazis. This is becoming a problem. Then pass out on the dot of 11.
So basically, two days are very much alike, thus making my opening statement a pile of nonsense. In actual fact, I love rituals, the small and private kind, that helps me pace my day. I love making my pot of tea in the morning: boil water, pour some into the empty pot, swirl around and empty, add one teaspoon of tea leaves, pour water again, leave to brew for a bit. Right now its 2pm and I am indulging in the ritual of making Turkish/Lebanese coffee (Turkish because that's where the coffee comes from, and Lebanese because I'm following the instructions from my Lebanese/Belgian sister in law). It goes like this: heat water and a teaspoon of sugar in a small pot or raquí (spelling?), once boiled, add coffee grounds away from the heat, stir, take a teaspoon of the froth and place in your coffee cup. Return the pot to the heat and bring to the boil, then remove immediately. Repeat three times. Let the coffee sit for the grounds to slowly sink to the bottom, then pour into your tiny cup. Most soothing. Except when you misjudge and coffee boils over covering all surfaces with a mud like consistency. I've learned to watch my pot like a hawk now.
So rituals. They are so comforting. I even enjoy the rituals of others (as long as they are not too far out there), like my friend from boarding school. Her going to bed ritual involved rubbing the soles of her feet together before climbing into bed to prevent any dust or grit getting into the covers. I used to listen out for the brushing sound and know that all was well with the world.
I shared a room with three other girls, and discovered three other ways of brushing your teeth.
Rituals, how do you enjoy yours?
Mornings usually kick off with a very British tea and toast combo while reading the morning papers online. I've cancelled the GP subscription because a) I cannot be bothered with its incessant whining and b) piles of newspapers EVERYWHERE. Once I've surfaced, I have one of two choices: cycle into work for a morning of language instruction or stay at home and hack away at a translation project.
Evenings are worryingly the same: dinner slumped in front of the telly (current obsession: Game of Thrones), then ablutions and an hour's worth of reading about the Nazis. This is becoming a problem. Then pass out on the dot of 11.
So basically, two days are very much alike, thus making my opening statement a pile of nonsense. In actual fact, I love rituals, the small and private kind, that helps me pace my day. I love making my pot of tea in the morning: boil water, pour some into the empty pot, swirl around and empty, add one teaspoon of tea leaves, pour water again, leave to brew for a bit. Right now its 2pm and I am indulging in the ritual of making Turkish/Lebanese coffee (Turkish because that's where the coffee comes from, and Lebanese because I'm following the instructions from my Lebanese/Belgian sister in law). It goes like this: heat water and a teaspoon of sugar in a small pot or raquí (spelling?), once boiled, add coffee grounds away from the heat, stir, take a teaspoon of the froth and place in your coffee cup. Return the pot to the heat and bring to the boil, then remove immediately. Repeat three times. Let the coffee sit for the grounds to slowly sink to the bottom, then pour into your tiny cup. Most soothing. Except when you misjudge and coffee boils over covering all surfaces with a mud like consistency. I've learned to watch my pot like a hawk now.
So rituals. They are so comforting. I even enjoy the rituals of others (as long as they are not too far out there), like my friend from boarding school. Her going to bed ritual involved rubbing the soles of her feet together before climbing into bed to prevent any dust or grit getting into the covers. I used to listen out for the brushing sound and know that all was well with the world.
I shared a room with three other girls, and discovered three other ways of brushing your teeth.
Rituals, how do you enjoy yours?
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