I don’t think I’ve seen this in Malvern Village, Adelaide.
The owner was such a lovely man and so proud when I asked if I could photograph his dog.
But that pooch, the snarl scared the crap out of me.
Category: food
Simple Country Lentils*
(* this dish is a version of the one listed in the fabulous “French Farmhouse Cookbook” by Susan Herrmann Loomis)
Nothing like keeping the monsieur happy – and at this time more than any other. Harvest time means good, honest, country cooking and this very simple (the best kind!) lentil dish is a winner in our house. It’s easy and so versatile – it’s great on its own or delicious paired with country sausages, pork chops, lamb chops, whatever you feel like. They say that dried pulses were a staple in many homes during the harsh Winter months, a time when people also consumed more preserved, salted meats (no wonder I feel like large slabs of juicy ‘petit sale’ with my lentils).
(‘petit sale’ or ‘porc demi-sel’)
And it’s another one of those dishes that tastes better and better each day it gets older!
I first tried this dish here in France at Benji’s parents’ house. A large cast-iron pot was plonked in the middle of the table and we helped ourselves to this comfort-food’ – the country sausages (mmn, like a bit of country saucisse, but not these!!) swimming in a dark brown-green mass of steaming lentils, with dollops of Dijon mustard, soaking it all up with crusty bread and wine.
I’m wondering if it was the first time I’d had ‘Puy’ lentils? These are a dark green/grey coloured lentil commonly found in ‘Le Puy’, in the Auvergne area of France. Grown in volcanic soil, they are very small and lovely to cook with as they retain their form. Until that time, all the lentil dishes I’d tried were mostly Indian influenced, eg dhal, using red or brown lentils. Come to think of it, I used to eat a lot more ‘Asian’-influenced dishes in Australia. Coriander, soy sauce, chillies and limes were far more common sights in the kitchen than wild thyme, bay leaves and olive oil. Who would have thought…
ingredients:
500g green Puy lentils (this will serve about 6 people)
2 onions, diced
4 carrots, chopped
250g salted pork, cut into chunks (optional)
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 sprig fresh thyme
bay leaf
country sausages/ frankfurters (1-2 per person) – (optional)
parsley and mustard for serving
pepper to taste (if you are using the salted pork you will not need to add any salt)
method:
Fry your onion until golden in a generous amount of olive oil, in a heavy casserole pot
+ During this time, boil a full kettle of water for pouring over the lentils later – the hot water greatly reduces the cooking time +
Add the roughly cut chunks of salted pork and fry for a few minutes, stirring frequently
Add the carrots and the garlic, give a good stir
Now add the lentils, stir well
Pour boiling water to cover well.
N.B. During the cooking, you will find that the lentils soak up a lot of water, you may need to add a second pot of boiling water over the mixture if you have no liquid left. I know, it may look like you are drowning the lentils with water, but believe me it does dry up!
Add herbs and pepper to taste.
N.B. You do not need to add salt if using the salted pork (I’ve made that mistake!) – but if you’re not using meat DO NOT salt at this point. – adding salt to lentils during cooking may toughen them up. Add it after the cooking.
Cover with lid and let simmer for one hour (if you have too much liquid, leave the lid slightly ajar) – or until lentils are tender.
Voila! – and enjoy with a light red or a dry white…
wrapped in France #2
“1. a bundle or parcel. 2. that in which anything is packed, as a case, crate, etc. 5. to put into wrappings or a container.” – ‘Package, packaging’ from the Macquarie Dictionary, 2nd Edition, 1981
Do you remember when I let it slip that I have a thing for packaging? Mmn, yep, still have it and lately I feel like I’m being bombarded with even more wonderful examples of it, everywhere. At home, at the markets, at the vide-greniers (the village garage sales – something I must absolutely tell you about soon), at friends’ houses, in the guise of gifts from friends… everywhere.
Colours, texts, fonts, old, new, shabby or shiny… I can’t get enough of it – and if there’s a text or a word here or there in French, even better! It’s amazing how much you can improve your vocabulary just reading the fine print! (and probably a lot more educational than my dippings into, shock, horror – Voici).
At the moment I’m getting a buzz out of OLD packaging and the eg’s here are from either home (my mother-in-law is a great help here) – or from stands in the markets and vide-greniers. I understand why people start up businesses selling this stuff – there are crazy people out there, like me, who love it! But a lot of it can be quite expensive so I’m happy to admire it and ask permission to take a photo or two. Yes, I think I am mad!
So here’s a second instalment of boxes, tins, bottles I’ve seen here in France lately. I should add however, that not all these products are French. Some come from next door in Spain (thanks to Vincent who is aware of my condition) or further afar. But they seemed too lovely to leave out.
I hope you enjoy them!
“Women often change, Mad are those who trust them. Only this Pineau remains faithful to his King.”
Merci Vinnie.
But it went back home with V.
You try it!
Certainly didn’t need this, but I fell in love with the radio-controlled VW at the vide-grenier. It is the sedan version of my very first car, a Type 3 station wagon that I called ‘Fritz’. The price was extremely high. But the man was kind enough to let me take the photo.
some sights #5 – images from the Minervois
- a view from Chateau Maris
I keep thinking Mork from Ork is going to crack out of one…
(Merci Isabelle et Vincent)
Got to make the most of these babies before the season is out.
…Really!
lunch at my in-laws’
Mmn, ca vous donne envie?
This is the un-cooked version. I just couldn’t resist. It’s a dish called ‘Andouillette‘.
I’ve got to say that this is one of the only dishes I can’t get myself to enjoy. Don’t get me wrong, I have been raised well and have of course done the right thing and tried it. I have tried it many times in fact – each time trying to savour the flavour as much as those around me (not much pressure here – it’s a Frenchie family favourite). But I’m sorry, everytime I do, I get a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’ flavour. Actually no, I’m lying. I know what I taste – and it’s a taste I wouldn’t normally associate with fine cuisine. Getting me? Sorry, but it does. You should smell the fumes when these babies are smoking in the pan. I thought tripe in Mum and Dad’s pressure cooker was bad.
The first time I ate Andouillette the je-ne-sais-quoi flavour lingered in my mouth well into the following morning (I had brushed my teeth three times). I was horrified and complained to Benji about the disturbingly bad taste. “Well, it is half made of shit,” was his answer.
Am I making your mouth water by now? Look it up and see what’s in it. It’s a delicacy that, in it’s ‘purest’ (and by this I mean ‘smellier’ version) form, you don’t find often, if ever, outside of France. Strange.
As I don’t tend to serve this at home, my mother-in-law likes to get some in preparation for her boy’s arrival. They all laugh at me as they’re tucking into it with dollops of mustard, wondering how on earth I can’t adore this dish. I can only sit there and make cheap comments on the dish’s obvious aesthetic merits and delightfully heady aromas. “My poor son!” my mother-in-law consoles… “At least here at your mother’s you can enjoy Andouillette!”
Hungry?
The Vigneron's Wife 