Posts Tagged ‘France’

Week at the French Seaside

Le Touquet-Paris-Plage is known as one of the most luxurious beach resorts in the north of France. Wealthy Parisians have beautiful summer villas there, and the resort was a favorite among people such as Serge Gainsbourg, Marlène Dietrich and Winston Churchill. One of its most famous residents today may just well be French presidential candidate Emmanuel Macron!
We fell in love with Le Touquet years ago during our first trip to the north of France, and since then, we alternate either early winter in Bourgogne or late spring in Le Touquet. Last week we had another wonderful holiday at this gorgeous coastal town. It was only five days, but it felt like so much more. We enjoyed wonderful (and not so wonderful!) French food, had the fortune of having fantastic weather (albeit a little on the chilly side), and enjoyed walks on the beach with our little digger Pastis (who gave me quite a scare when he got sand in his eyes!). Here are some snapshots of our week, for those who didn’t already see them on Instagram. PS: There are more there.
I am looking forward to going back already! Never visited? Have a look at this link:


Our ‘welcome to France’ meal has always been steak-frites. And the best we’ve ever had is served at Brasserie de la Paix in Sainte Cecile. Everything is perfect here. The wine, the desserts, the ambience!


Brasserie de la Paix, from the outside. The beach is two steps away.


Some of the seaside houses of Le Touquet. The really fancy ones on their own private little hills are about a five-minute drive from the beach and city center.


This could have been the best meal ever! We went for a drive and ended up in a coastal town called Saint-Valery-sur-Somme. There we stopped at Le Bistrot de St. Val where I started with six beautiful oysters before moving on to this sumptuous choucroute de la mer! Sauerkraut, various types of seafood and a delectable cream sauce to gloriously crown it all. The wine was gorgeous and the setting at their veranda just perfect.


After lunch, we walked through the center of town, Beautiful little French village!


Our next stop was Cayeux-sur-Mer.


Majestic views around Camiers.


On Wednesday, we visited Boulogne-sur-Mer and ate at the cozy restaurant La Pierre Chaud. Run by a friendly couple, eating at the restaurant feels like coming home after a long day at work. I started with a herring salad and my main was a traditional dish of northern France called ‘potjevleesch’, a terrine with various types of meats such as rabbit, pork, veal and chicken. I can’t even tell you how good it is — though it may not look that appetizing!


After lunch, it was time to walk off some of the calories!


Square at Boulogne-sur-Mer.


On Thursday morning, hubby and I headed for the market in Le Touquet where we enjoyed coffee and croissants in the sun! Kirstie stayed at the hotel with Pastis as markets are not all that interesting to them.


The covered part of the market is the best part! We got some bits and pieces for dinner that day, including a tasty piece of duck-pepper terrine from Prince Mulard!


And no trip to the north of France would be complete without buying a chunk of the stinkiest and tastiest of cheeses — Maroilles! Look at this beautiful cheese stand!


Our final lunch in France was at Á Table in Le Touquet’s Rue du Metz. Wonderfully cozy place. We started with this lovely goat’s cheese salad and our main was pork loin in mustard-lavender sauce! A flavor explosion! By the way, we had a pretty horrible experience at Le Matisse (where I got served the most vile Belgian endive salad) and at Au Marché (where Kirstie was served a bleeding burger and I ended up a bit sick; a shame as we loved this restaurant in the past). But we didn’t let those hiccups ruin our fun!


Our final sunset at le Touquet. Can’t wait to be back!







Het expatriëren van Dijonmosterd


FullSizeRender-1Volgens de legende ging Lodewijk XI nergens heen zonder een potje Dijonmosterd. Ook paus Johannes XXII was helemaal weg van het scherpe, gele sausje en hij nam zelfs een eigen Grand Moutardier du Pape in dienst aan zijn hof in Avignon. Toen jaren geleden President Obama een hamburger bestelde werd dat onverwacht groot nieuws op de Amerikaanse televisie want hij vroeg, tot verbazing en grote teleurstelling van menig landgenoot niet om ketchup, maar om Dijonmosterd.
Ook ik ben een groot liefhebber en heb altijd een aardige voorraad in huis. Een leven zonder goede mosterd, of erger nog: zonder Dijonmosterd is voor mij onvoorstelbaar. Saaie, dunne marinades. Geen pittige, romige vinaigrettes meer. Geen eenvoudig maar zalig smeerseltje voor het stokbrood waarmee ik gretig het laatste restje saus van een bord boeuf bourguignon schoonveeg. Geen heerlijke dip voor de blokjes Grure en plakjes saussicon sec aux noix bij de apéro. Wat mij betreft is Dijonmosterd net zo onontbeerlijk in de keuken als olijfolie en knoflook.
Het crèmige condiment behoort tot het grote Franse culinaire erfgoed en kent een geschiedenis die terug gaat naar de Romeinen. Zij waren de eersten die in de vruchtbare heuvels rond Dijon mosterdzaad hebben verbouwd, de zaden met kanonskogels gemalen en met azijn tot een kruidige pasta gemaakt. Tegen het eind van de 14e eeuw werd de kwaliteit en vervaardiging van Dijonmosterd middels een verordening gewaarborgd en werd het product de grootste trots van de hertogen van Bourgondië. Geen feestmaal ging voorbij zonder een pot op tafel.
Toch kreeg de fabuleuze mosterd pas in 1752 wereldwijd erkenning toen Jean Naigeon besloot om azijn door verjus, de most van onrijpe druiven, te vervangen. Dit zorgde voor een minder zure, romige smaak; min of meer als de mosterd die wij vandaag kennen. Alhoewel er nu toch weer azijn, of voor de betere soorten, witte wijn gebruikt wordt.
Tot mijn grote verbazing ontdekte ik echter kort geleden dat Dijonmosterd tegenwoordig helemaal niet meer uit Dijon hoeft te komen! Sterker nog, Dijonmosterd wordt nu grotendeels buiten Frankrijk gemaakt! Sinds 1937 wijst de benaming “moutarde de Dijon” niet naar de plaats van productie, maar enkel naar het recept. In feite kan Dijonmosterd dus overal ter wereld gemaakt worden. In de meeste Dijonmosterd die wel uit Frankrijk komt gebruikt men geen of weinig inheems mosterdzaad meer nu het merendeel daarvan geïmporteerd wordt uit Canada.
Echt bergafwaarts ging het pas in 2000 toen Amora-Maille, de belangrijkste Dijonmosterd fabrikant, in handen kwam van het Brits-Nederlandse concern Unilever. Twee jaar later nam de productie met 42% af en in 2008 werd zelfs besloten om de laatste mosterdfabriek in Dijon te sluiten. De volledige ‘expatriëring’ van Dijonmosterd was daarmee een feit.
Wie dus geen genoegen neemt met iets anders dan een echte Franse mosterd – van Franse bodem, gemaakt volgens de traditionele methode en met een authentiek Frans receptuur – moet niet voor Dijonmosterd kiezen maar voor “moutarde de Bourgogne”. U herkent deze mosterd aan het “IGP” (Indication Géographique Protégée) keurmerk op het etiket. Zo weet u tenminste dat het om een origineel streekproduct gaat en niet om een ‘Dijonmosterd’ uit Polen.
Voor wie het weten wil, de moutarderie van Edmond Fallot in Beaune, waar mosterdzaden nog met een molensteen gemalen worden en waar bovendien Dijonmosterd gemaakt wordt met het hoogste percentage lokaal mosterdzaad (maar liefst 55%), maakt een verschrikkelijke lekkere “moutarde de Bourgogne”.
Gepubliceerd in En Route zomer 2015


Salade Lyonnaise


salade lyonnaiseThis weekend while having lunch at Het Hert (great, little restaurant in Naarden, by the way), my husband and I discussed our vacation plans. Every year the same question arises: “Duras or something else?” — in France, obviously. We have been visiting Duras every summer since 2009 and every time we fall in love with the village and surrounding area even more. Driving into Duras always feels like coming home. So much so, that I’ve even joked about having lived there in a past life. We love that place so much. But we also love all the other villages and cities in the area. Like Miramont, Sainte-Foy-la-Grande, Monségur, Issigeac, Soumensac, Marmande and Bergerac. And of course places like Saint-Émilion, Bordeaux and Arcachon, which are a little further away and well worth the drive.
So, as you may have guessed, it didn’t take long for us to decide that this summer it was going to be Duras, for the ninth time! We rented a beautiful house from one of our friends there and I am already looking forward to August! Our hotels for overnight stops in Vierzon and Orléans have also been booked. Yay!
But first, plenty of other things to look forward to — like our trip to Le Touquet-Paris-Plage in April and working on my cookbook. Most of my days are spent immersed in studying, writing about and practicing French cuisine. Yesterday I made a lovely Flan Parisien (hurray for the new oven — which came in a week late, but still). For lunch, I quickly threw together a Salade Lyonnaise. Of course, I could not find frisée salad (something to do with it being Sunday and living in a Dutch suburb), so I had to settle for romaine, which wasn’t a bad alternative. I wrote a very rough recipe, which I am sharing with you today. The full (and improved recipe) will be in my book — more about that in due time!
Have a great week!

Salade Lyonnaise
Serves 3

  • 1 1/2 tbsps red wine vinegar
  • 4 tbsps sunflower oil
  • 1 tsp Dijon mustard
  • 1/2 tsp dried chervil
  • 1/2 dried parsley
  • Fleur de sel & freshly cracked pepper
  • 6 handfuls of crisp lettuce leaves
  • knob of butter
  • 1 shallot, finely chopped
  • 100g lardons
  • 1/4 baguette, cubed
  • 3 tbsps white wine vinegar
  • 3 fresh eggs

In a large bowl, whisk the vinegar, oil, mustard, dried herbs and salt and pepper to make a dressing. Reserve 1 1/2 tbsp of the dressing and toss the lettuce leaves in the rest, making sure they are coated with the dressing. Divide over 3 plates. Melt the butter in a frying pan and gently sauté the shallots. Add the bacon, increase the heat and cook for about 5 minutes. Stir in the cubed bread and toss for another five minutes. In the meantime, bring a large pan of water to a simmer for the eggs. Add the vinegar and stir with a whisk to create a whirlpool effect. Add each egg one by one to the water and poach for 2 1/2 – 3 1/2 minutes, depending on their size. Add the reserved dressing to the bread and bacon, give it a final stir and divide over the salad. Top with the poached egg, season with a little salt and serve.

Blanquette de veau à l’ancienne

Blanquette de veau à l’ancienneOne winter, when we had lunch at brasserie Le Commerce — what was to become one of our favorite restaurants in Autun, the kind frequented mostly by locals — I started with a cocotte of snails in a garlicky cream sauce. They were so good! The sauce was thick and velvety and I mopped it up with thick chunks of bread. As though that wasn’t enough cream and calories, for my main course, I chose the blanquette de veau à l’ancienne. It was my first time trying this classic French dish and I absolutely fell in love with it. Tender chunks of veal blanketed in a smooth, mild sauce with a side of fluffy, white rice. The epitome of comfort food! Every time we go back on a wine trip through Bourgogne, we always stop at Le Commerce and you can be sure that I will order blanquette de veau.
Oddly enough, it has taken me way too long to try my hand at my own version. But last night, I proudly served a blanquette de veau that was heaven on earth. Make this dish on a cold, winter night. I promise you, the first bite will feel like falling in love.


Blanquette de veau à l’ancienne
Serves 4

  • 700g veal shoulder, cubed
  • 1 ½ L water
  • 1 onion, peeled and studded with 2 cloves
  • 2 carrots, peeled and in large chunks
  • 1 leek, in large chunks
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 1 clove of garlic
  • 1 tsp mixed peppercorns
  • 1 tsp dried thyme
  • pinch of nutmeg
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 2 tbsps butter
  • 225g mushrooms, small ones halved, large ones quartered
  • 6 small shallots, halved
  • 30g butter
  • 30g flour
  • 1 egg yolk
  • 100ml crème fraîche
  • 1 tbsp lemon juice
  • rice, to serve
  • parsley, to garnish

Rinse the veal really well under cold running water. Place the chunks in a large heavy-bottomed casserole and cover with the water. Bring to the boil, lower the heat to medium and cook for 5 minutes. Skim off any scum and then stir in the onion, carrots, leek, bay leaf, garlic, peppercorns, thyme, nutmeg and salt. Cover and cook gently for 2 hours. About 20 minutes towards the end of the cooking time, get your rice going. In a large saucepan, gently fry the mushrooms (they should not color) in 1 tbsp of the butter for 5 minutes and set aside in a bowl. Soften the shallots in the other tbsp of butter. Do this gently too, nothing should color in this dish. Drain the meat and vegetables, making sure to reserve 500ml of the stock. Reserve the meat and the carrots. In the saucepan where you fried the mushrooms and shallots, melt the butter over a medium heat and whisk in the flour. Add the hot stock while whisking. Once the sauce is thick, cook for 5 minutes gently. Return the meat and carrots to the pan. Also add in the mushrooms and shallots. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Whisk the egg yolk, crème fraîche and lemon juice (this is called a liaison) in a small bowl. Add this to the sauce while stirring well with a wooden spoon. The dish should be barely simmering. Leave on the heat for 5 more minutes while stirring occasionally. Serve with rice and a sprinkle of parsley.

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