My Sofa and Floor

Well if that isn't a title to get people reading, I don't know what is.. .

Seriously though, I am VERY pleased with this sofa I managed to get hold of off leboncoin.fr

It's just big enough for two (or me and my laptop) and is damn good quality for the price. The sellers were in a hurry to move, I think, because in comparison to what else I had seen for sale on le bon coin, this one is lacking in stains and rips and need to reupholster. And it's such a nice shape! I don't even mind the cushions at the back, though if I ever found some nice fabric (tartan?) I could recover them. So I may well bring this back home, as I don't think I could find a similar thing for 30€, or even 100€ from the fair-while I spent browsing.

Additionally in this photo you can see our floor. This was described to us by the estate agent as 'very popular' and 'easy to clean'. The first is true, for some reason. I've even seen it in the Nice House where I tutor, and not just in our old-people flat.

Here's a closer look:

I just really have not worked out why it is popular. It is none of those described things. It is like living in a hessian sack. A good thing I'm not allergic. It really is like a floor made of lots and lots of string.  You cannot tell if it is dirty or clean, even when you hoover. The problems continue, because you can't really walk around without slippers or socks because it starts to cause foot pain. Let alone sitting on this floor! It strikes me as very bizarre. I have a rug on the way. Apparently it's not even that cheap, but the strings come undone in places every now and again. I sound like I am complaining a lot, I'm not really. I'm just very, very confused as to why someone thought this was a good idea.

Food dilemma

Today I am overwhelmed by food that needs eating as soon as possible. The cupboard still has apples in we haven't used, there is a half a courgette (edit: MARROW) in the fridge along with a full fillet of mostelle, even though I asked for only two portions. Half a kilo of clementines, they'll keep, but they're addictive. A large bowl full of chickpea and pepper sauce. Frozen pumpkin. And about a kilo of haricots verts that the man at the Agriculture Bio veg stall assured me was an appropriate portion. I asked for enough for two, but was there was easily enough for two by the time he said ' et ça c'est pour une personne'. Does this mean you eat green beans as your main meal?

I'm not complaining because this is the way that I really like to cook. It's a challenge to use things up. The problem is, we've already planned ahead to have pumpkin soup tonight. So I need to use everything else up. The beans I can eat with the left over bit of mostelle, which I will probably fry in spices and make a bit cajun as a way of going against France and their love of adding cream to white stuff. Potatoes, pasta, fish...
I could also use this in a tomatoey fish soup, like the one I made when I came across a bit of mystery bream last year. Or make it into fish and chips, because of all the potatoes we have. That'd be really nice, but failing on the healthy side...

I think I will end up blanching a handful of the beans and putting them in the freezer - I'm not sure how long they last.

But the courgette is a problem mostly because we don't have a steamer...

If I'm having fried fish for lunch, already a massive lunch when I add the beans, and I need to use the chickpea stew before it goes mouldy (probably saving pumpkin soup for lunch another day), where to I eat the courgette, where?

Do I just cook it for an afternoon snack? Make it into some courgette only salad?

That'll teach me for buying a kilo courgette to stuff for two people...

A l'école

Here's just a few thing's I've noticed about the French system, in no particular order or coherence. Just things that strike me as a foreigner.

* In Primary school, children bring all their books and equipment with them every. single. day. To do so they have 'un cartable' rather than 'un sac' because they really do need to cart things back and forth. There are in the form of a big square rucksack, or a wheely suitcase bag. I think that's actually a great idea to save their little backs, but on reflection having 'trays' at school for our things was such a sensible idea. We only had to carry our lunch and pencil case, and it avoided the endless 'j'ai oublié mon livre à la maison/sur la table/mon père l'a utilisé pour allumer le feu' because we only took away what we needed for homework.

* Using cursive script makes writing on a chalk-board a lot easier! It's all in one smooth stroke. If you go at a board trying to jab the chalk at each separate letter, the chalk gets quite broken and messy. 

* French teachers, like most others in this country, do try and relax during their lunch break instead of doing a million and one things. This means everyone sits down at some point to eat lunch together, especially in my small primary school where there are eight of us round the table at most. And everyone has hot lunches that they think ahead and bring from home to heat in the microwave. I've seen curry, pasta, but also the odd bit of steak and potatoes. Then there'll be pudding and tea before the sound of children running outside after their proper sitting-down eating lunch together break too. 

* There is a severe lack of supply teachers, so much that you'd think they weren't invented. In a lycée this isn't as bad because sometimes (hopefully) the students will do set work. But in school today, the headmistress was ill. As one of only eight staff members she is also a class-teacher. a whole class as well, but they did not have a cover teacher and were instead divided between all year groups. There were not even enough chairs! 

Oh and here's the chocolate cake..

Ahah, you had to read this far to get to the chocolate cake recipe! 

Chocolate cake, french recipe

200g Butter

200g dark chocolate

70g flour

5 eggs

200g sugar

I have made one of these 1/3 of main ingredients chocolate puddings before, but I think that one was without eggs. I will dig out the recipe if I bring my recipe notebook from England, because that one was insanely dark and puddingy, like goo. You put the baking tin inside a dish of water in the oven. Anyway, this one comes out more like a cross between sponge and brownie, because you whisk the eggs a lot. But you cook it like moelleux, so it’s still moist in the centre. I actually just had to have a momentary typing break to taste some more and check how to describe it. Naturally. Melt the butter and chocolate together in a bain-marie (a bowl over an almost boiling pan of water). You can turn this off once it’s all started to melt and the pan has reached boil, as the remaining heat will melt the rest. Divide the eggs into whites and yolks. Stir the sugar into the yolks until the mixture lightens. Whisk the whites until they form stiff peaks. Add the flour to the yolk and sugar mixture, before adding the chocolate and butter. Then gently fold in the egg whites bit by bit. The recipe recommended a 22 or 24 sized tin, but we used a mystery dish. As long as it covers the whole surface to at least a cm thick you’ll be alright. 

About 25 mins at 180. A knife poked in the middle should come out steamy but still a bit gooey, things will settle down as it cools and you want it to be moist! By this point the edges will look cooked and almost springy to the touch. 

Any Country Bean Casserole, and why it has sausage in it (sorry Mum) feat. Chocolate cake recipe.

I will explain the original motivation for this stew, but it's occured to me while writing up the recipe that this meal would be easy to manage anywhere in the world if you have one pot and one thing to heat it on, because the ingredients or their equivalents should be available whether you are in England, Germany, France, Italy or Mexico (hello year abroad people!). Beans and sausage of some kind exist in most countries! By equivalents, I mean that this is largely flexible as a dish, but I’ve added alternatives where I think certain other things might go well. Without bouillon etc, save stock from cooking vegetables or meat, or just add salt.Vegetables can be adapted accordingly - any kind of root would work well. Spices, if you are lacking, would be okay as just generic herbes de provence, but something slightly spicy or peppery is always good for depth. Similarly mustard and vinegar are great, but are less common/may not naturally be in your cupboard away from home. 

Makes about 4 portions

half a large onion

1 carrot 

1 potato (other root veg can replace these two)

2 tins of beans, preferably different sorts. I used 1 kidney beans, 1 haricot beans, plus

any leftover baked beans found in the fridge. I was actually looking for better beans, but this was all Carrefour had to offer...

1/2 tin of tomatos and/or a good few chopped fresh tomatoes

1 large clove of garlic

200g of Sausage, I used Andouille, explained below

1 cup of water

1/2 bouillon cube/ 1tsp bouillon powder

A tablespoon of tomato purée

1 desert sp of grain mustard

liberal dashes of tabasco

black pepper, I added a lot

a good full teaspoon of paprika, smokey if possiblesome greens to serve, brocolli or dark cabbage

Adding red pepper also wouldn't go amiss.

One thing I tend to be sad about when eating French food (not all kinds) is the dominance of light flavours and creamy sauces here in the north. Despite the north being near England, it sometimes lacks the punchy flavours we might make in things like Shepherd's Pie or casseroles or other things.  For this reason I get more excited by aubergines à la provençale, or things like ratatouille when you find them on menus, or especially in galettes. This is not a combination I have yet found in Brittany though as they favour the North. But these almost Italian flavours of Provence are equally, maybe more, warming for me in cold northern winter/rainy days and all that.  They have got a good deal more garlic and tomatoes and olive oil, and everyone's favourite herbes de provence. I'm still not sure what counts as Provence. Anyway. 

This recipe all started after I made a rather unadventurous potato wedges with haricots blancs en sauce de tomate (er, baked beans). But not being mad and eating the whole lot, I had leftover beans. So I made a recipe around about half a cup full of beans. That sounds a bit excessive seeing as my sister would probably just have eaten them cold out the fridge, but she was not there and, it being now finally autumn, it was about time to make something warming and wholesome. 

And this is very wholesome! I had read a few recipes based around bean casserole/stew etc before, specifically Cowboy Beans, Shipwreck Casserole and Boston Baked Beans, and ended up creating something in between them that had the kind of deep sauce taste of being left over a campfire, that is even better on reheating, without adding any of the cheat ketchup that many American recipes call for (though I can maybe see their angle on brown sugar or maple syrup...) 

I'll stop rattling on, give you the method and explain the sausages afterwards, or you'll never hear about the food.

Method:

Prepare the veg beforehand as this prevents faff later, and also allows multitasking/having a cup of tea while stuff cooks. This means dicing the onion, crushing or chopping garlic, chopping carrot and potato into dicey sized chunks too (though really does not matter if they are irregular). Keep the peel on, it’s good for you and has a lot of flavour. Wash them, this dish is earthy enough. This is also a good opportunity to use up old looking tomatos, as it just bulks things up a bit. Chop up sausage on a plate. I used Andouille and will explain this later. 

Start frying the sausage in the pan. This dish cooks a while so you don't need to fear it won’t be cooked through, but the fat from this means frying the onions doesn’t need any oil added. Therefore this dish is pretty healthy, as I did not use much at all. Add the onions and garlic to the browning sausage, keeping it all over a medium heat. By the time the onions are soft, the sausage will be on its way to done (depending on which sort, of course). Then add the diced carrots and pots. Stir these a short while, but when things start to stick and get hot, add the cup of water. This is also the opportunity to crumble in the stock. 

Leave this to cook until the veg begins to soften. After this everything goes in almost at once. Add the tinned beans, drained of a little of their juice, but leaving some adds to the tasty casserole sauce. Add the tomatoes and purée now as well. Heat through, and allow the veg to simmer until it is nearly cooked (still a bit al dente when tasted) before tasting and adding the season. This is all fine by taste to what suits you. Once all the spices are in, leave to cook down for about 20 minutes, until the vegetable will break up with a prod with a wooden spoon. 

About ten minutes before the end was when I added brocolli, enough for one serving, because I don't like freezing or reheating brocolli, it turns to mush. I just stirred this into the mix as I didn't have a steamer, but things like this could be steamed or microwaves steamed to add on the side. I only had one pan option here though! 

The sauce should no longer be watery, and instead will coat the veg. I served warm and didn't even use bread there was so much in here! But I would not say no to bread. 

Freezes and reheats well. Add a couple of tablespoons of water to the mix when doing so. Reheating stews is always better on the stove than in the microwave as it allows the flavours to develop and reduce down. 

This is a close second/third to Irish stew night, and spicey casserole made at Sacha's WHOSE RECIPE IS GONE WHO KNOWS WHERE. I think we found it on the internet, it may never be found, we'll have to create a Tribute...

A note on the sausage!

I bought Andouille sausage. It is used in quite small quantities in this dish, and it is therefore not a meat dish and this is not an essential ingredient by any means! It's mostly used in the vein of old cowboy bean stews where they would throw in an old raggedy bit of pork belly to make things all a bit richer, as a bit of a treat perhaps. Andouille sausage is a funny choice, as it is kind of made up of layers and disintegrates  a bit when cooked. But it is not greasy or grainy at all.

If I were in England I would probably make this meat free unless I found a really good farmer or farmer's market. In France, my food ethics are a bit more accessible! A lot of meat has the name of the farmer printed on it. This Andouille was from within the same county. So I am lead to believe that it was made on small scale and local produced, which I approve of, as this generally assures to some scale the livelyhood of farmers (which is difficult when, as far as I know, farm animals rarely make a man rich!). Brittany is also one of the main pork producing regions, as perhaps Ireland is. As for the question of why there is meat in this at all (I love pigs!), is that I am in favour of supporting businesses that advocate and practice an ethical method of production by contrast to the intensive farming that, even countries like France who value local food, are guilty off. This does not mean rejecting meat altogerther, because I believe in supporting farmers who advocate this proper way of doing things, particularly if it involves ensuring that their animals live a healthy and happy life as a priority over any financial gain. It's also because of the slight issue I have with people drinking milk and being vegetarian, what with all the baby cows that go to waste. But that's another story. Brittany is also a great place to eat fish and seafood responsibly without having to spend an arm and a leg. Buying the andouille cost me about 2 or 3€, but I certainly wouldn't do this every day. It was as a good compliment to a wholesome dish. As for the seafood, I will add another time. I've talked enough today! 

Markets, I

In fact this is not a proper message on French markets, sorry for the deception.  But I have just been to the Wednesday market and am a tad overwhelmed in the senses. I had planned to take my camera but 9.30 this morning ended up quite cloudy and dull, and the market is just so colourful it deserves sunlight of some kind. The creole stall is there every Wednesday, and I will one day buy my lunch there, but today I got a banana doughnut right out of the frier and it was brilliantly crispy hot and covered in sugar. I also succeeded in finding the spice stall and wish I had done so before buying mystery curry powder in a jar, because the man had all sorts of garam masala and other curry mixes he'd made himself. I did come away with a little paper bag of cinnamon to turn the glut off apples into various sauces and crumbles which I'll start this afternoon before they go rotten. But all this really deserves photos, especially the organic bread stall with a man in a rainbow jumper (not Dad) from whom I bought a slice of sort of dark rye brioche with chocolate chips and raisins, which was made in an oven. And there were pumpkins everywhere, some for about three euros a piece, and giant courgettes, and punnets of potatoes, and freshly made apple juice, and honey gingerbread, and honey vinegar! Once I have been paid I am going to do so much cooking.

And there are so many fish, most of them with names that only exist in French or Spanish. It turns out the fish which we put in parcels was called Mostelle, and it was delicious. It had a pretty flakey white texture and so I was worried that it was cod without knowing the proper translation. It cooked brilliantly in the parcels, and what's more it's a relatively unknown fish that comes from western Med and the Atlantic and so is very local. I think I'm going to work my way through each unknown fish name or weird looking creature on the stalls. This one also doesn't seem to have a commonly translated English name - it's called Physis Physis, though  and is this little fellow:

Autumn, Bois de Vincin

Our Neighbourhood

I think we technically live between areas of suburb called La Madeleine and Le Bondon. As the bus stops inform me. There’s a mix of all kinds of flats, houses, council flats, enormous houses...  plonked within walking distance (well, between 15-30 mins) of town centre, retail parks, train station and woody countryside. It looks like the edge of any town really, but luckily they’ve left a few big oaks growing here so that it’s a bit greener. Not too far to boulangerie et cet, and the local Carrefour Cité could pass for a Tesco Express except that they sell fresh oysters in the fridge section.

So this morning, as decided by lack of money and lack of transport on a Sunday, I left early to avoid this odd october heatwave (or ‘la canicule’, I like that word). I amde my way through more and more suburbs, but within half an hour I had got out of town via a small dog walking field and brick wall: 

A brief tour of main road later, I ended up at the Pont de Vincin. This was pretty much a road bridge over an estuarine river ( I think, as it was flat and muddy and I am fairly sure the water was flowing away from the sea). I guessed from my vague town map that the green areas near this bridge were countryside, and managed to find an unmarked footpath that lead along the river, after I had to squeeze though the entrance. I think this path goes all the way to Luscanen in some way or other.

It was much much cooler under the canopy and I even got a bit chilly and autumnal, having left in a dress. 

The French seem obsessed with chestnuts. I saw a man collecting them on my way back from this path.

I have therefore decided it is probably a good thing if I learn to like chestnuts, plus they were so shiny I had to pick a few up and bring them back. 

I had some photos that came out pretty well on this walk, because I was out there so early in the morning, so I will put the best ones in another post so that my waffling doesn't interrupt the scenery.