Thyme For Cooking, the Blog

Spring is Purple, at Giverny

With a few touches of pink, blue and complimentary orange.

Along the walkway, in front of the American Museum, are a series of 'rooms', small areas, enclosed by hedges and themed in colors.  This is one of the 'Blue Rooms'

The American Museum showcases works from American artists.  The museum also welcomes both American and French students with grants, to live, study and paint at Giverny....

Sigh.....

Photos are not allowed inside Monet's house, which has been perfectly restored to reflect life with Monet.  One is allowed to take a photo from Monet's bedroom window, which gives a lovely view of the walled, Norman gardens below.

 

Visitors are not allowed on the interior paths of the walled garden... which means one gets to take photos without the tourists hordes. 

One of the many side paths in the walled garden.  The day we were there was a public holiday in France, VE Day.  There were crowds everywhere but the gardens are very well managed... As you can see by the lack of people in the photos.

Of course, we did get there in the morning before the bus loads from Paris.

Another path... With all of the purple, the orange really makes an impression.

There is an underground passage from the walled garden to the water lily pond and Japanese gardens.  The wisteria covering the foot bridge over the water lily pond was planted by Monet.

It takes 30 days of water temperatures above 16C (70F) before the water lilies bloom.  All I can do is use my imagination gazing across the pond.  Meanwhile, that red bush is rather spectacular!

The tulips were about done, but there were still a few prime specimens.  Please don't expect me to tell you what kind...

Did I mention the wisteria being in full bloom?

Just so you know we did more than look at flowers... We also looked at this 12th century castle built by Richard, Coeur de Leon, to defend Normandy from the French.

For more photos - there's a link to the album in the side bar.

Asparagus and Chevre Quiche; Tiptoeing thru the Tulips

Did you know that one cannot limp on both legs at the same time?

I know that.

Now: Do as I say; not as I do.

The most important thing I tell anyone coming to Europe is to wear comfortable shoes. 

They don't have to be sensible... But they do have to be comfortable.

Wandering the beautiful, Monet-designed gardens of Giverny...  I ran out of Bandaids (plasters).

And I was ever so grateful that my anal-retentive little self always has a stash in my bag.

Next time it will be a bigger stash.

In my defense I did bring my most comfortable pair of walking shoes fit to be worn in public.

In my stupidity/chronic lateness/everything at the last moment/procrastination I did not wear them a few times first.

They're not new.  They're old, comfortable, well-worn favorites.

It's just that I so seldom wear proper shoes that my feet balk at the idea when I do.

I spend the winter wearing felt clogs inside and rubber Wellie clogs outside.

I spend the summer wearing nothing inside and rubber Wellie sandals outside.

My feet are spoiled.

The hour or two I spend, a few times a week out in public, wearing, er, 'better' clogs or sandals (this is farm country, not Paris) hardly counts.

My feet are not accustomed to the confines of proper shoes.

I had blisters on my heels.

I had blisters on my toes (open-toe shoes - it's summer... And Giverny is only an hour from Paris.  I have some standards - or, at least, I did.)

I had blisters on my blisters.

I left a trail of Bandaid wrappers.

I walked the last bit barefoot....Ahhhhhh!

But, I did not miss a nook or cranny.

I want to go back every week for the rest of the year.

I want to become an artist in residence... even if I'm not any good.

I want to sit in the gardens and stare and paint and draw....even if I'm not any good.

I want to lay on the wisteria covered bridge and look through the flowers to the sky.

I want to sit in the Japanese Gardens and eat foie gras and sip rosé.

Even with bloody feet.

After the foie gras, maybe a nice quiche.

I've been on a quiche-kick lately.

With a brown-rice crust they're a snap to make, and much healthier than the traditional pastry crust.

Perfect for a Mother's Day Brunch.

And, how could I let asparagus season pass without just one more Asparagus Quiche?  It seemed like such an appropriate entry for Weekend Herb Blogging, this week: it's being hosted by Laurie of Mediterranean Cooking in Alaska.  Stop by her blog on Monday for the complete round-up. If you want to look at the Weekend Herb Blogging archives, visit Kalyn, of Kalyn's Kitchen,  the founder  of this great event.

Asparagus.

What says spring better than asparagus!

Besides being full of vitamins, minerals and low in calories, it is a natural diuretic, and contains a carbohydrate that, while indigestible to us, is a favorite of all the health-promoting bacteria living in our gut. We do want healthy guts, don't we.... Hmmm?

Asparagus and Chevre (Goat Cheese) Quiche 

The Crust: 
2 cups cooked brown rice
1/4 cup shredded cheese (1 oz, 30 gr)
1 egg



The Filling:
4 - 5 thin slices, (3oz, 100gr) Prosciutto
6 - 8oz (250gr) asparagus, trimmed
4 - 5oz (125 - 150gr) chevre (goat cheese) the kind that comes in a log with a white (edible) rind
2 tbs snipped fresh chives
2 tbs snipped fresh basil
2 - 3 tomatoes, depending on size I used 2 very long roma tomatoes
3 eggs
1 cup milk

The crust: Cook brown rice according to package directions. Can be done ahead or the day before. If rice is just cooked, spread it on a plate to cool for 5 minutes before adding to egg. Oil a 9" (22 cm) pie or quiche plate. Lightly whisk 1 egg. Add 1/4 cup of cheese and the cooked rice. Mix well. Pat into the quiche plate, working it up the sides as best you can. Bake in 400F (200C) oven for 10 minutes. Remove and set aside.

The filling: Trim asparagus, snapping off tough ends. Cut into 1" (2.5cm) lengths. Heat water in a saucepan over high heat. When boiling, add asparagus and blanch for 3 minutes. Drain and refresh under cold water. Dry on paper towels.
Snip herbs. Slice tomatoes and goat cheese. Cut Prosciutto into large pieces.
In medium bowl whisk 3 eggs well. Add milk and whisk to combine.

To assemble: Lay Prosciutto evenly over the bottom of the crust. Lay the goat cheese on top. Sprinkle with herbs. Lay the tomatoes on top of the herbs and top with the asparagus. Pour the egg mixture over all and bake for 40 minutes. (Check after 30) Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

Note: I put the quiche/pie plate on a pizza pan before pouring the egg/milk over. Makes it easier to get into the oven and catches any drips and spills - saving oven clean-up.

You can rest assured that you will never see me in a pair of $700.00 Manolo Blahnik stiletto sandals.

Or a pair of $50.00 Target stiletto sandals.

More about Giverny tomorrow....

Turkey with Sherry, Valentine's Day and Romantic Spain

Mon mari often complains that I never forget anything and, more specifically, that I never forget a date.

I could suggest that, if he wouldn't choose such inappropriate dates for his actions, perhaps I would be more likely to forget.

And what date and action am I referring to?

Valentine's Day.

To be honest, I was going to ignore this holiday.  It's not a big one in our house.

Frankly, we don't quite know how to celebrate it.

It's the anniversary of mon mari kicking me out of the house.

To be fair, we had only been living together for just under a year.

To be unfair it was Valentine's Day, and I had just fixed a lovely dinner for two.

To be really bitchy, he then took me out for a night cap before delivering the blow - the better able to insure the minimum scene... being out in public amidst all of our friends, and all that.

The timing was good - he was going away on business at the end of the month, for a week, giving me time alone to move out.

The timing was bad - I was going away on business for two  weeks, immediately, leaving me no time to find a place to live. 

All said, it did work out. 

I moved out by the end of the month; let everyone know I was single; started dating immediately (admittedly, some were, um, contrived).

He soon regretted his imprudent decision and we were married in May, same year.

We didn't do 'living together' well, at all; but we do just fine at this marriage thing....

Still, we don't normally celebrate Valentine's Day.

When my sweet friend, Chris, of Mele Cotte decided to do a tribute to Valentine's Day with the Foods of Love, I had to participate: it was food, after all.

First, let me set a more proper mood:

When most people think of travel and romance they think of France: Paris, the Cote d'Azur, or Italy: Rome, the hills of Tuscany.

They should be thinking of Spain.  Here are a few of my favorite romantic spots in Spain:

Sitting in the Plaza Mayor in Segovia just as the sun sets, watching the last rays bounce off the near-perfect, 2000 year old Roman Aqueduct that towers over the city.

Sitting on a terrace at a restaurant in Tibidabo at midnight, having a leisurely dinner and gazing down on the lights of Barcelona and off to the Mediterranean.

Sitting in a secluded courtyard in the old quarter of Cordoba during the Patio Festival  when every nook,  cranny, balcony and pond is filled with flowers; with rose petals gently raining down.

Sitting in the Alhambra, at dusk, watching the sun set over the Moorish carvings and formal gardens, looking out to the mountains and olive groves.

Sitting in an out-of-the-way bar in Jerez, and finding that you have stumbled into a local Flamenco celebration.

And while one is doing all of that sitting one really should be sipping: Xérès - Jerez - Sherry.

Sherry is a rich, complex fortified wine with a history dating back to 1,100 BC. 

Sipping a chilled glass of Fino, watching the evening Paseo, relishing the nuances unique to Spain....  Now, that's a romantic celebration....

Turkey with Sherry and Iberian Ham
   for two

12 oz (350 gr) turkey cutlets
4 slices Iberian ham (3oz, 90gr)
4oz (125gr) mushrooms
1 cup (8oz, 250ml) chicken stock
1/2 cup (4oz, 125ml) Amontillado (sherry)
1 tsp dried rosemary
1 tsp brown sugar
1 tbs cornstarch (maizena) dissolved in 1 tbs water
1 tbs olive oil
1 cup small pasta (farfalle)

Cook pasta according to package directions.
Cut turkey into bite-size pieces.  Clean and slice mushrooms. Slice ham into bite-size pieces.  Heat oil in nonstick skillet.  Add mushrooms, ham and sauté 5 minutes.  Add turkey and sauté 5 minutes longer.  Add stock, sherry, rosemary and sugar, cover and simmer 10 minutes.  Uncover, stir in cornstarch to thicken.  Serve over pasta.

Light the candles, pour a glass of sherry and toast your love!

Like cooking with wine, you don't have to use an expensive, Reserve sherry, but do use something that is perfectly drinkable.  Do not, ever, ever, use 'cooking sherry'.  The only good use for that is...there IS no good use for that....

Have a wonderful Valentine's Day.

Chris says she'll have all of the foods of love on Mele Cotte  on Feb.12....stop by!

You can see how I remember the date of our break-up, right?

Pasta with Sausage and Creamy Mustard Sauce; Fromage Frais

When we were gainfully employed, back in the beginning of time, we did a bit of business in London.  We always flew into Gatwick and had a favorite spot we liked to stay in not too far from the airport.

It was a lovely, country house hotel, with grounds that we could walk to get rid of jet lag when we arrived, and a wonderful restaurant that we could enjoy for our final dinner when we were on our way home. They smoked their own salmon and had their own fresh spring water in pitchers on the tables.  There was a bottle of sherry in the room. 

It was wonderful.

We stayed there at least a dozen times.

We could never find it.

Admittedly it was out in the middle of nowhere, and the sign pointing to it was small and hand-painted, but, one would think that after, say, the first 6 or 7 times we drove there, we would know how to get there.

One would be wrong.

We never found it with less than an hour of searching, often 2 or 3.  And I'm counting from when we were within a couple of miles.

The problem was that we were so very lost, so very often, that absolutely everything looked familiar.

We'd come to the intersection with the 'Rose and Crown' on the corner.  We would know that the hotel was only 5 minutes away... But, did we turn left if the 'Rose and Crown' was on our right?  Or did we turn right when it was on our left?  Or did we do that last time and then realize we needed to go straight?

Of course these discussions were always held in calm, quiet, considerate tones of voices.....

Why didn't we finally write down minute instructions once we got to the hotel?

Oh, come on....we couldn't possibly not remember next time, could we????? 
I mean, really!!!!!

This all came back to me this morning. 

I was Googling the difference between Fromage Frais and Fromage Blanc.

I know they are two different things.  I buy both, but not often enough to remember which is which.  I recognize the packages when I'm in the store so I don't (often) by the wrong one.  I just can't remember unless I'm standing in front of them.

I'm adding a page to my site on definitions and substitutions. I want to include the dairy products that I use: Yogurt, Greek Yogurt, Crème Fraiche, Fromage Frais and Fromage Blanc.  I don't have them all in the fridge at the moment, and I want to get the definitions right.

I spent 2 hours trying to find what I know is correct. 

First off, most sites said they are the same thing.  They're not. 

Fromage Frais (I think) comes in little containers, with a tiny basket inside to drain the liquid and is similar to cream cheese, but significantly lower in fat and calories.  It is considered to be a fresh cheese - just like the name says.

Fromage Blanc comes in containers much like plain yogurt,  It's taste is slightly less tart and texture a bit creamier than plain yogurt.  Fromage Blanc can be whipped, like cream (but not as much).  It is considered to be more of a cream.

Some sites said that Fromage Frais was a generic term (I suppose it could be) that didn't actually describe a product (not true - I've bought it).

Most sites went on to describe Fromage Blanc in exactly the terms I would use to describe Fromage Frais.

By now I am ready to put my fist into my screen, grab Google and ring it's f*ing neck.

I took the girls for a walk.

When I resumed my search, somewhat calmer, I found that most of the sites describing Fromage Blanc as 'cheese' rather than 'yogurt' were American - actually American makers of Fromage Blanc.  British sites described it as I find it here in France.  Only one American site did.

The only solution to insure that I'm accurate is to buy samples when I'm in the U.S. and do my own taste tests.  As I said, I already use both here....

But, now that I think about, I'd better buy them both again here, too...

I'm so confused...

I did discover that Greek yogurt is becoming more available in the U.S.

Here it is often made with ewe's milk and has a lovely tart flavor and is much creamier than plain yogurt. 

A friend in Andorra introduced me to it... She actually handed it to me and said something like: 'You Yanks are always pissing and moaning because you can't get sour cream; here, this is better!'

She was right.

And, while it is a bit higher in fat than regular yogurt it is quite a bit lower than sour cream... At least, mine is ;-)

Just remember to add it at the end of cooking time as it may curdle if boiled (hmm, much like sour cream), as will plain yogurt.

I've just realized that my submission for this week's Presto Pasta Nights, once again contains Greek Yogurt!  Oh well, dairy is good for us; all that lovely calcium....

Be sure to visit our esteemed creator, Ruth of Once Upon A Feast, on Friday for a recap of all the wonderful pasta dishes.

I love sausages and peppers together. Add some red beans and pasta and we have a one dish dinner in just 30 minutes. The mustards makes it slightly hot and the yogurt cools it back down.  Symmetry!

Pasta with Sausage and Red Beans in Mustard Sauce

10oz (300gr) lean Italian sausage
1 tbs olive oil
1 onion
1/2 red pepper
1/2 green pepper  (I had both)
2 cloves garlic
1 15oz can red beans, kidney beans (450gr)
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp dried basil
1/2 cup Greek or plain yogurt, 4 oz (125ml)
1/2 cup white wine
1/2 cup chicken stock
1 1/2 tbs Dijon-style mustard
1 1/2 tbs whole grain mustard
1 - 2 tbs cornstarch (maizena) dissolved in 2 tbs chicken stock
1 - 1 1/4 cups pasta, such as fusilli, penne, rigatoni

Cook pasta according to package directions. Chop onion and pepper. Mince garlic. Slice raw sausages into bite-size lengths. Open, drain and rinse beans. Heat oil over medium heat in nonstick skillet. Add onions and peppers and sauté 3 minutes. Add garlic and sauté 3 minutes longer. Add sausages and sauté until almost cooked through, 5 - 8 minutes, depending on size. Add herbs, mustards, wine and stock. Reduce heat to low, cover and simmer 5 - 10 minutes. Stir cornstarch mixture into sauce to thicken. You may not need all of it but sauce should be quite thick. Stir in yogurt, add drained pasta. Toss to combine and serve.

Now I'm going to go make nice with Google.... maybe if I say 'pretty please' I'll get the results I want...
'F*ing idiot' didn't seem to work.

Come to think if it , it doesn't work well with mon mari either...  hmmmmm......

Swedish Meatballs and Holiday Dinner...without Lutefisk!

Mon mari tends to take the fun out of being a traveling food blogger.

He's quite patient at home, waiting while I take a few hundred photos of a crumb of bread: arranging and rearranging; posing and reposing; adjusting the lights and the props.

And he did ask me, very nicely, to please not embarrass him by doing the same at restaurants.

Considering that the lighting in restaurants is not, usually, conducive to good pictures, and that the head waiter is, usually, surveying all with a sharp eye, I suggested a compromise.

After much negotiation we agreed that on one evening only, I could take one photo only of each course; provided that the camera never moved more than 3 inches above the table or away from my body.

Here they are:

We had a glass of champagne and some crispy, cheese biscuits while studying the menu.  As usual, we each had the menu of the day.

The evening before our amuse bouche was all in shades of green.  This one is variations on orange. Left to right is a crab mousse with flecks of carrot, winter squash soup, and parsnip pudding with pumpkin sauce.

Each one was no more than 2 bites - well, with that tiny, little spoon (that matches the tiny little soup bowl), the soup was 4.  It's hard to tell but the spoon is about the size of my thumbnail.

I believe I mentioned the warm foie gras and spinach salad?  That I had twice?

This was the second time I had and you can see I couldn't be bothered to take the photo before tucking in.

It was good.

It's very simple to pan-sear foie gras at home.  If you are interested in trying I give detailed instructions on my Foie Gras recipe along  with my best guess for the spinach salad.  I'm going to make if for Christmas....I might even share.

Next came this juicy venison tenderloin.  It was accompanied by a creamy parsnip puree, woodsy sautéed forest mushrooms, slightly 'al dente' shredded broccoli, sweet sautéed apple wedges and 'frites': potatoes fried in goose fat.

Yeah, I ate it all.

But this was our third night out and, in the interest of being able to toddle up to our room unaided, I'm ashamed to admit that I skipped the cheese.

I'm even more embarrassed to admit that I 'just said no' to dessert. 

We did have coffee, though.  Our waiter, obviously thinking that we had made a very poor effort, brought us the 'pre-dessert' anyway: a small creme brulee. 

And, of course, with the coffee came 2 small plates of sweet biscuits and one of chocolate truffles.  I mean, we wouldn't want to go to bed hungry, now, would we?

But is was so, so very, good!

Back to reality. But a reality still filled with wonderful food.

Pasta.

During this hectic holiday season it's always nice to have an easy, warm, comforting pasta dish.

Or anytime.  The savvy Ruth of Once Upon A Feast knew that when she started Presto Pasta Nights, over 10 months ago.

Apparently the blogosphere agrees because it is still going strong.  Visit her blog on Friday for the recap of pasta from around the world and some new ideas for eating this season.

When I was growing up, in God's country, the back of beyond, miles from nowhere, out in the tullies, in the sticks (you get the picture) there were community dinners.  We called them 'feeds' (before RSS). 

In spring there was the Rod & Gun Club Smelt Feed.  Still is, come to think of it.  It was unique because "the Men" did the cooking.

In early winter, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, there was the Lutheran church Lutefisk Feed. (Did I mention that I was the only Catholic in Luther League?)

We always went to both.

My father was Norwegian. (My mother was German - and I have no idea...)
I still have a cousin living on the family farm in Norway.

He loved lefse, we all did. 

He was, also, the type of person that ate anything put in front of him; then thanked the cook and said it was delicious.

Even he drew the line at Lutefisk.

To get actual real people to come to the Lutefisk Feeds the good ladies of the church also made huge vats of Swedish Meatballs!  Now we're talking! 

They served them with...lefse, dumplings or egg noodles.  I serve them with any small pasta.

I can't get lefse, but I can make Swedish Meatballs.  Happy Christmas!

Swedish Meatballs with Pasta

8 oz ground beef (250gr mince)
1 small onion
1/3 cup breadcrumbs
1 egg
2 tsp dried dill weed
1 1/2 cups (12oz, 375ml) chicken stock
1/2 cup (4oz, 125ml) Greek or plain yogurt
1 1/2 tbs cornstarch (corn flour, maizena) dissolved in 2 tbs chicken stock
1 1/2 cups small pasta
1 tbs butter

Put water on high heat for pasta. Mince onion.  In medium bowl combine onion, half of the dill, the egg, breadcrumbs and beef.  Mix well and form into small meatballs, about 1" (2.5cm) in diameter.  In a medium skillet with lid heat the chicken stock.  When simmering add the meatballs, being careful that they don't touch.  Cover and continue to simmer until done, stirring and turning the meatballs once or twice, about 15 minutes.  Cook noodles.  Dissolve cornstarch in chicken stock.  When meatballs are done add the dill to the stock and move the meatballs to the sides of the pan.  Turn up the heat a bit and add the cornstarch mixture, stirring until thickened and clear.  Drain noodles and toss with butter. Remove meatballs from heat and stir in the yogurt, mixing well.  Serve, meatballs on top of or next to the pasta.  Sprinkle with a bit more dill...

Still over a week left to bear your foodie soul.  Search your closet/pantry for skeletons.  Remember, confession is good.  It can, but doesn't have to, be an actual recipe.  It could just be the description of the, um, food or a story of the, um, event;  holiday related or not....
Really, any dirty little secret you feel like sharing!  You have until Christmas to post - the round-up will be just before Dec. 31.  The usual rules: post, link to me, send me an e-mail with permalink.  Click for details!

Come on, tell!  Share the pain...you'll feel better!  And so will we!

Come on, tell!  Share the pain...you'll feel better!  And so will we!

Strasbourg, photos, musings and secrets...

The good, the bad, and the weird or our 'petite vacance'.....and some photos.  Comments may or may not have any actual relationship to the photos near them.

Château de Fontainebleau (we did not stay here.... we didn't even got to tour it, it's closed on Tuesday)

The most inconvenient thing about staying in country house hotels is one rarely has a 'stand-up' shower.  I'm American.  I like showers.  I hate kneeling in a bathtub to wash my hair. 

One of our hotel rooms.
I'm, also, rather fond of actual doors on the loo.... Even after years of marriage there are just some things one likes to have privacy for.

Strasbourg market
The most fun thing at the market were candles made from salt crystals.  They looked like big pink quartz crystals and were partially hollowed out for tea lights (or as they call them here, night lights)

The most awesome thing was the cathedral.  Too bad inside photos of big dark buildings are so challenging!

The strangest thing to my (American) eyes were the Christmas trees.  This is how they look,  It's not dead or denuded.  It's a fresh tree and they are all the same.  Every year.  Every country I've seen Christmas trees in.  Easy to decorate!

Strasbourg

The strangest food we ate was a starter (first course): the egg whites had been cooked in small timbales so they were perfect little circles about 1 1/2" (4cm) high.  Nestled on top were the yolks which had been breaded and deep-fried.  They were perfect little balls with still runny centers.  How'd they do that?
It was good - a bit of salad, some cured beef, a slice of seared foie gras and a piece of toasted brioche accompanied the eggs.

Strasbourg

The best deal we had was, after perusing the menu in the dining room of our hotel, and noting that the typical entrée (first course) was around 18 euro, the viande (meat) course around 24, the fromage (cheese) 10 and dessert (you can figure that one out) was 12 we were told that we could have all 4 courses for 44 euro total.   That included an amuse bouche and a pre-dessert.
Sometimes we just scratch our heads and say okay!   

Strasbourg

I really hate French pillows.  For those who aren't familiar they are long and round, like a bolster, and one per bed.  I don't want to share my pillow.
Fortunately, they're are usually 'normal' pillows available.

More of the markets

In my humble opinion the consumption of pan-seared foie gras on a bed of spinach constitutes a healthy first course!  So I did it twice.  I would have done it 3 times but we had to leave....

One of the hotels we stayed in a village outside of Strasbourg.

The worst thing about the trip was that mon mari was suffering from a cold.  He was a good lad and suffered in silence.  I was duly appreciative.

Chambord (No, we didn't stay here either.  We did get to tour it though.  It's one of the Castles on the Loire.)

The very worst thing was that he gave it to me when we got home!
The very best thing was that all of the walking (castle tours, markets, shopping) apparently offset all of the food!

Still 10 days to go to purge your closet/pantry of skeletons.  Remember, confession is good for the soul.  It can, but doesn't have to, be an actual recipe.  It could just be the description of the, um, food or a story of the, um, event;  holiday related or not....
Really, any dirty little secret you feel like sharing!  You have until Christmas to post - the round-up will be just before Dec. 31.  The usual rules: post, link to me, send me an e-mail with permalink.  Click for details!

Come on, tell!  Share the pain...you'll feel better!  And so will we!

Okay, I have one more for you: I like gravy. 
The kind made with meat drippings, fat and flour.  Sauces are nice; gravy is better.
I like it on almost everything.  When I was a child, I poured it over everything on my plate. 
My favorite snack when I worked in a restaurant in college was a big bowl with a small scoop of mashed potatoes, then filled to the brim with gravy. 
I like bread (white) and gravy.   I like it for breakfast.
The real reason I make a turkey at Christmas is not for the leftover sandwiches; or the carcass for the soup; it's for the gravy.  Sage dressing?  Only a vehicle for eating gravy....
I think you get the idea.

What yours?

 

Come on, tell!  Share the pain...you'll feel better!  And so will we!

Okay, I have one more for you: I like gravy. 
The kind made with meat drippings, fat and flour.  Sauces are nice; gravy is better.
I like it on almost everything.  When I was a child, I poured it over everything on my plate. 
My favorite snack when I worked in a restaurant in college was a big bowl with a small scoop of mashed potatoes, then filled to the brim with gravy. 
I like bread (white) and gravy.   I like it for breakfast.
The real reason I make a turkey at Christmas is not for the leftover sandwiches; or the carcass for the soup; it's for the gravy.  Sage dressing?  Only a vehicle for eating gravy....
I think you get the idea.

What yours?

Verdun, Old Men and Me!

I have no idea what it is about me that seems to attract old men. 

Not 'older' men: the silver-haired, ruggedly good-looking, smooth-talking, debonair type;
OLD men: the stoop-shouldered, cane-wielding, pot-bellied, somewhat aromatic type!

We stayed in Verdun on our way to Germany a few weeks ago.  We had originally been in Verdun on one of our first trips to Europe, and remembered it as a dismal, boring city.

Must have been having a bad day. 

This time we found it to be a lovely city, rich in history and prettily maintained.  Our hotel was on a main pedestrian street between the river and the huge war memorial you see here.  Naturally, the first thing we did was climb all 100+ steps to see what was in it.

It was at the top that I encountered the old man.  He was the custodian of the memorial.  I was enjoying the view when he came up to me and started talking, totally ignoring mon mari.  I kept thinking 'war stuff is guy stuff so why don't you talk to mon mari'.  I tried the 'I'm an American and I don't speak much French' line.  Didn't work.

He just kept talking, about the Battle, if I'd had family fighting, etc.; things I couldn't have discussed intelligently in English let alone French!  I nodded politely.  He was happy.  He was so happy that he took me into the little room lined with file cabinets that all said "Do not Touch", "Do not Open" and showed me how to look up soldiers names to see if I had any missing relatives that had been killed in the Battle.  I dutifully looked up a few names (clueless, but trying to please), thanked him, tried to leave; looked up a few more names, thanked him profusely, tried to leave; looked up a few more names, noticed mon mari had deserted, said I really had to leave at which point he looked at his watch and agreed with me.

He pointed me towards the stairs and told me to hurry, the ceremony was about to start.  Grabbing my chance, I thanked him yet again and rushed off. 

Not caring about some ceremony or other, we headed back past our hotel towards the fountain in the river.  We heard a marching band.  Hmmm, could be interesting!  We followed the sound and found another monument (there are a few in Verdun).  In front of the monument was a small marching band, a small color guard, a small contingent of armed French military and....more old men.

We stayed to watch.  There were several speakers, as best as I could figure out they were remembering something that De Gaulle had done.
It wasn't a touristy-thing.  It was all very somber, the speakers in suits, the attendees standing
quietly at attention.  It was obviously another instance of the French remembering and honoring events of the past.  They don't want to forget their history. 

The battle of Verdun lasted for 11 months.  There were over 700,000 soldiers injured, 240,000 killed.  Most of the remains are buried in and around Verdun, unknown.  Each spring new bones appear in the fields, are collected and taken to an ossuary, holding some 130,000 bones of unknown soldiers, the area marked by 13,000 white crosses. 

Witnessing some obscure, private (as in 'not staged for the tourists') ceremony like this is what travel is all about for me....that, and, of course the food.

Mon mari would not let me take pictures at dinner.  After serving, the waiter will normally discreetly wait, a few paces away, for one to start eating; to make certain that everything is as it should be.  Somehow, I didn't feel like pulling out my camera.  I did manage to get a pic of the cheese trolley (the waiter had to leave for a minute to get something).  These are the soft cheeses; the hard cheeses had their own, smaller trolley.

I can, however, describe dinner.

This was the 'menu' we had:
To start: 3 tiny amuse bouche: an oyster, a sip of cold tomato soup, a bit of smoked fish
Entrée: Pan-seared foie gras with a petite salade with a fruity dressing
Main course: Veal medallions on a melange of tiny roasted potatoes, tomatoes and courgettes
Cheese trolley:  the picture says it all....
Dessert: Berries, berries and more berries: 3 ways, all heavenly
To finish: Coffee, chocolates....and great big lollipops!  I passed on the lollipops.

After that we toddled up the stairs to bed...

The next morning, fully recovered, we went in search of coffee and pan au chocolat.

I love the sights and sounds of cities waking up in the morning.  We found a little café/boulangerie just around the corner from our hotel.   We sat, enjoying the ambiance, watching the shop owners dutifully scrubbing 'their' portion of the sidewalk, the local residents coming out for their morning baguette.

And then I noticed him, another old guy eying me.  What is it?!?

Germany: Castles and Cats

We were in Kaiserslautern, Germany last week, also known (by me) as Little America.  There is a large U.S. military presence there, something in the range of 80,000 persons, and it's very obvious.   Everyone speaks English, the roads are overrun with big American cars (hummers, SUV's) with American license plates, all the advert's are in American English and dollars are the currency of choice.  I had to buy coffee with a credit card.  Why would I think to bring dollars to Germany?

We were there for the retirement (U.S. Air Force Colonel) ceremony of my cousin.  For an entire day I was hobnobbing with Colonels and Generals and Master Chef Chief something or others.  Talk about a fish out of water.  No one could believe that I had never been on a military base before!  I couldn't believe they found that odd!  They were all, every last striped, barred, eagled and starred one of them, very friendly and welcoming.

I decided it wouldn't be prudent to tell them I didn't know what all their pretty jewelry meant; or that I had been a rather active anti-war protester in my day; or that the guys I knew that had been in the military mostly carried hash (not the corned beef kind) in their ammo packs rather than bullets.  Nope, wouldn't be prudent!  Travel and food seemed the safest topics.

Ah yes, the food!  My apologies to all of my German friends, but I have nothing to say on the topic.  I love German food and we usually find wonderful restaurants to eat in.   But that was not to be done in this instance.  The two restaurants we ate in catered to American military and so did the food.  Service was swift and the portions huge.  It was good, just not the caliber I usually seek out when I travel.  Seven different ways of fixing schnitzel and not much else.  I ordered spaetzle one night (which I dearly love and only get in Germany) and received a big serving of plain old wide noodles - naked!  The next night it was a huge platter of fries.  Normally I find the German ways with potatoes and pasta to be extraordinary, these were barely ordinary.

We did have a lovely tomato soup first course one evening, quite unlike anything I've had before and excellent.  (I'm still puzzling over it!)  And one can never go wrong with warm apple strudel and ice cream....

We managed to fit a wee bit of touristy stuff in and important stuff, like buying wine.

The photos:  Top is Idar-Oberstein.  Yes that is a church built into the side of the rock face half way up! (click to make larger).  We stopped to see the church.  I didn't know that this lovely village was the gem capital of Germany.  Had I known I would have planned on lots more shopping time.  Had mon mari known we would never have found it.

Next is the picturesque village of Zell on the Mosel.  Shown is Schloss Zell, the castle hotel we stayed in many years ago on our first trip to Germany.  You can see the vineyards climbing the hills behind.  Most of the vineyards along the Mosel are incredibly steep; I don't see how the people stay on them to work.

Then we have the important stuff: wine.  When in Zell one gets Zeller Scwarze Katz or 'Black Cat' wine.  I exercised great self-control and only bought six bottles, a nice variety of sweet and dry.  Did you know that wine from the Mosel region comes in green bottles and is drunk in green stemmed glasses?  If it's from the Rhine the bottles and stems are brown.

Are you thinking 'German sweet wines'?  Why?!?   Let me assure you that a good German Spatlese or Auslese is wonderful.  The deep amber liquid is the nectar of the gods: sweet, silky, fragrant; it's like drinking gold!

I will  not go so far to say that it rivals a Sauterne but, for the price, it does for me!  A glass with some pan-seared foie gras is perfect.  Just the right amount of sweetness to offset the richness.  And with a bit of raclette in from of the fireplace in winter...

All I can say is it's worthy of my D.O. award! (Digestive Orgasm).

Say, can anyone tell me if all of those black cats qualify this is an entry in Weekend Cat Blogging?

Christmas in Germany: Christkindelmarkts everywhere!

No one does Christmas Markets like the Germans (except maybe the French)!  They have the biggest (Dortmund); the most famous (Nurnemberg), most beautiful (Mannheim); most atmospheric (Wuerzburg); the oldest (Dresden); I could go on but you get the point.  Last year we had a lovely holiday in and about Dresden, visiting the main city markets as well as many of the smaller ones.  Every town, village and hamlet has it's own 'Christkindelsmarkt' 

Germans, especially in Saxony, take Christmas seriously! There are white lights twinkling in every window, on every available evergreen and around most doors. Each village has it's own 'candle pyramid' sitting proudly in the square with lights blazing. The carved, wooden statues made in the area are fascinating to look at; the attention to detail is amazing. I bought a peddler. He is carrying a tray of nutcrackers, cooking tools hanging from one arm and carving tools from the other with pottery on his back...And he is only 5 inches high!

Mon mari wanted a pyramid - a large one of course.  After pricing the one he wanted (2500.00 euros), he decided not...then we found a little village that sells the hand-carved wooden parts.  He can build his own!  What more can a D.I.Y. guy ask for?  Guess what we're doing next December? 

Everywhere there are Christmas markets, selling Christmas trees, decorations, candles, pyramids, lots of local handcrafts and, of course, gluhwine, hot chocolate, wurst of every size, shape and color and enough sweets to keep many, many children (and dentists) happy.  Dresden claims to make the original and best stollen. As every stall is kind enough to offer taste samples I, quite happily, did my best to test the veracity of their claims. (It also allowed me to skip a proper lunch the 3 days we were there.)

Our hotel was a lovely spa and for 280 euro per person total, gave us a large room for 3 nights, a typically huge German breakfast buffet each morning, 2 '3' course dinners and 1 '4' course dinner (and 2 '1' kilo stollen). No one does Roast Goose, Red Cabbage and Spaetzle like the Germans... And they manage rather nicely with the sweets as well.

If you are looking for a Christmas getaway and want more info, send a comment.

Today, we check out the market in Nantes - not famous or well-known....we'll see....

Truth in Travel

There are two things a visitor here from the Midwest notices right off:  It's just like home, cornfields, wheat fields, pastures, apple orchards; oh wait, there's a field of sunflowers, must be France; and, although everyone speaks a foreign language (French) fluently, very few people in the heart of the French countryside speak English.  For a first-time traveler, even though it is expected and understood, there can still be a bit of culture shock.  Things that are taken for granted at 'home' just aren't necessarily true somewhere else.

There has been no official decree that the entire planet be 'Handicap Accessible'. 
There are hotels that advertise themselves as such, but not all.  The needs of everyday life are readily available: parking at the markets, elevators in government offices, etc., but there are no elevators in the castles to get one up into the towers and crenellated walks; no escalator taking one into the Palace at Versailles.  There are long stairs leading one down into the Metro, and even longer ones to the actual trains.  Small, country house hotels do not have elevators.  We, being a family, were given a 2-bedroom apartment in the main house.  How nice!  A curving staircase led up to the entry to our apartment.  Inside, another curving staircase led up to the bedrooms.  Sis and s-i-l left their luggage in the entry.   

Nature's Call is still answered naturally in 'other' places. 
You will, occasionally, see cars parked alongside the road with a man standing next to it, admiring the field.  He is not a nature lover.  Courtesy suggests you do not stare (hoping for a peak?).  Sometimes you will see Dad and the boys admiring one side of the road while mom and the girls are off 'picking flowers'....and a public toilet just down the road....  Toilets in many restaurants and most cafes are unisex: urinal on one side of a partial wall, the stall on the other, shared sink.  One adjusts.  On the way back from Paris we stopped at one of the big motorway stations for drinks and gas.  The 'Ladies' was closed for cleaning and the sign said to use the 'Gents'.  I heard a couple of guys in their chatting and waited for them to finish and leave.  I went in and gave a quick glance around: it was empty.  Two things happened while I was in the stall:  the 'Gents' filled up with men and the 'Ladies' reopened. I had a brisk walk from the stall to the door.  I'm sure the men thought nothing of it but, sometimes, the Puritan background still rears its ugly head.....glad sis and s-i-l missed that one....

And here's my favorite to debunk:  The French (particularly Parisians) are unfriendly and hate Americans.  After leaving the Metro with all of our luggage mon mari and I carried ours up and out of the busy Metro.  I didn't wait for poor sis and s-i-l dragging their luggage up one step at a time:  it was much too crowded and busy to stop on the stairs; and, once we were out of the way, one could stay with the luggage and the other go back to help.  As I started back down the stairs I saw 3 young women pick up the bottom of my sis's suitcase and carry it (and, almost, her) to the top, laughing and chattering away.   They set it down, smiled, wished her a pleasant stay and left.  Two young men did the same for my s-i-l.  Everyone was very friendly, surprising my sis and s-i-l, not me....I live here.  I know people are friendly...