Here’s today’s list of culinary lessons and really good moments with Anne de Ravel:
Last night’s dinner of duck magret, Navets de Pardailhan, and figs poached in red wine. The first lesson here is that the best way to cook duck breast is on top of the stove, skin down, skimming off the fat until there’s almost none, and turning it only at the finish, and only for a moment.
The next lesson is that the Languedoc terroir produces its own unique black turnip, literally black in the market, porcelain-white when peeled, sweet when braised with butter. For more information on these fragrant gifts from this region’s soil, go to Anne’s blog: http://desclapon.wordpress.com/tag/turnips/.
Another lesson here: fresh figs can be frozen when you just can’t eat another one in September, and taken out to use in the dead of February as if they were just picked from the tree, which Anne did last night – et voila!
Oh, here’s another lesson from last night’s dinner: Tonka. A mysteriously fragrant spice like vanilla, almonds and cinnamon together, illegal in the U.S. because if you ate thirty of them you might die.
Anne made a heartbreaking-delicious chocolate tart, grating this small black bean into the ganache filling, infusing it with a fragrant character that makes chocolate by itself taste simple. The crust she made with Speculoos cookies. After a healthy discussion, (because that’s what we do here on vacation with Anne de Ravel, debate the propriety of making perfectly good spices illegal and deconstructing the flavor profile of excellent packaged biscuits), we decided that neither graham crackers or vanilla wafers had the proper spice and crispness to substitute them for these cookies, so I have to get back to you on what else you could use in the states for this crust, although it’s said that Delta Airlines offers Speculoos as a snack. Stock up.
Cardoons. I’ve been hearing about them for years, but finally saw them in the market today. Anne cooked them tonight, peeling them, placing them in water briefly with a little flour (old trick to take away bitterness), and then baked them in a simple bechamel as a gratin. It tasted like the most delicious baked artichoke dish I’ve had. Lesson here? Cardoons are delicious and taste just like artichokes without all the prickles.
Les Halles. The best covered daily markets in France. We shopped today in the Les Halles in Narbonne, where we found everything from the turnips to the cardoons to the loup (fish) we roasted for dinner.
Narbonne. An ancient city through which the Roman road once passed, has wide stone streets, a canal, and a half-finished cathedral – its buttresses fly, its ceiling vault, its two-story tall stained glass windows shimmer, but the whole thing stops too short because half the building was never built. It’s an odd feeling to stand in a cathedral heaving with art that wants to be larger.
Chateau Perdiguier, the chateau we visited at dusk today, whose walls still house three generations of Feracci family. One of the chateau walls dates back to the 13th century, while other three grand, stone stories are 17th.
We tasted two chardonnays from 2008, one very light and aged in steel. The second, aged in wood, tumbled in my mouth with warm vanilla and flint, although The Perdiguier guide suggests apricot, butterscotch and caramel, pairing it with baked turbot on buttered potatoes.
We tasted a Pinot, 2008, unusual for the Languedoc region. This wine hesitated but then trotted deliciously with spice and style. Ok, I’m not a wine writer, but I thought this Pinot had soil and elegance. Can I say that? I loved it. That sensible Perdiguier guide suggests drinking it with “veal in a creamy sauce.”
The second “facile” red, 2008, was just that – easy to drink without food – spice and richness that was delicious in a comforting kind of way. I told you, I’m not a wine writer. The Guide would have you drink this with your everyday “haunch of venison and celery puree.”
The last, mostly Cabernet Savignon and a bit of Merlot was delicious but young and a little tight. I know those wine words, but I also could taste the potential.
Dear husband, for you I am lugging home two bottles of the easy to love Domaine Perdiguier red and the second, more complex Domaine Perdiguier Chardonnay. You’re welcome.
The crescent moon rose over Montady, and we drove home to Soustres to make dinner.
