Bagels, bagels and more bagels

If Mr FF went on that show Mr and Mrs and had to answer the question what has your wife missed more than anything since moving to France he would have two answers - the theatre and bagels.

It is American Day at Lidl and I rushed there this morning and bought up as many as I could fit into my bag. If the sell-by date had been later than August I would have actually bought as many as could fit into a trolley. I don't have a huge freezer however and I could also then get bagel overload. You just never see bagels in this part of France. Perhaps they have them down south or perhaps in Paris but definitely not in Brittany.

Now bagel purists such as me know that there is nothing better than a freshly baked* one from a specialist deli. Look - I'm in the middle of the bleedin' French countryside - baguettes check; croissants check; une religieuse check; but bagels - uncheck. What I have bought will not be as lovely as freshly baked chunks of squidgy dough but they will still have that distinct bagel taste, made even more lovely by gentle toasting.

Each bagel is the same as two slices of bread in Weight Watcher points and a fine fine eat.

* I do actually have a fine recipe for them but if I were to bake them myself I would not have any control regarding consumption - yes, I am that weak.

Six good things

This is coming to you whilst I am full of that old 'joy of spring' stuff.

Here we go, six of my current best

• The first stone is gone and there's a few more to go. Let's see how we are doing this time next year. After all I once lost four stone with Weight Watchers and everyone told me I had overdone it and I looked a bit ill. Yes, I do look gaunt, I agreed and thought I would put maybe half a stone back on. I regained it all and much quicker than it had taken me to lose it.
  

• I've just hung the laundry outside for the first time this year and was overjoyed to see a couple of buds on the peony bush that I planted a few years ago and which has yet to flower. All I have to do now is cut down the Rosemary that is threatening to swamp it. I think I need to buy some loppers that aren't blunt. (the photo above is what the flower should look like).
  

• We're going out to a lovely restaurant for Sunday lunch and I am going to enjoy a good meal but still be careful. This means no lovely bread that is always put out. You can usually tell the French tables by the fact that they don't fall on this glorious pain and have to have their basket refilled. They have control and wait for the proper food.

• All my current clothes are now too big. This means I can move down to the section of things that have been tight for quite a long time. All women will appreciate how good this feels (and maybe a few men as well). Of course now I cam cursing the fact that I gave all my tiny clothes away when we left the UK. I could have been back in them next year.

• I haven't had a biscuit for about nine months. I couldn't find the post where I blogged that I had become quite addicted to a few with every cup of tea. That is history now and they say that it takes 28 days to break a habit. I reckon I am definitely cured.

• It is nine years this year that I gave up smoking 20 Marlborough a day. If I can do it then anyone can. I didn't use patches or gum or any of those aids. I turned to food and as someone who had always battled with their weight and used smoking (and other stuff) t0 squash the appetite, it was inevitable that I then became a little porker.

What are your favourite Spring stories of the moment?

Are you a gobbler or a chewer?

For years and years all you could hear my mum saying to me at the dining table was 'for goodness sake, eat slower'. I am the quickest eater imaginable and I really am trying hard to make my meals last longer. It is said it takes 20 minutes for the brain to register that the body has received some food and the longer you take eating this food, the more full up you will then feel. I'm trying to chew every mouthful about 32 times (I don't know why my mum hit on this magic figure but that's what I remember her saying), but then my meal becomes cold and I hate cold food. At least the re-heating the plate in the microwave uses up some of the 20 minutes.

Talking of gobbling, I found out this week that Weight Watchers consider turkey to be less fattening than chicken. Who knew?

Are you a slow eater or a gobbler - like I used to be

Paris old and new

It was quite odd being back in city life this past weekend. Normally I just go and visit the old buildings I love, but this time we also took in the financial centre of Paris called La Defense. The skyline around here looks more like Tokyo and I hadn't realised that there was indeed a modern side to Paris that dealt with Wall Street and Square Mile matters.





After all this modern architecture (incidentally in France the word architecture is pronounced with the first part being like the man's name Archie - the French feel that if there is an *h* in a word then pronounce the thing) a trip to my favourite area Madeleine was called for. I stared longingly in the window of Fauchon, my favourite foodie shop (just see what that link reveals - it really is a gourmand's paradise). Don't these cakes look gorgeous? I didn't eat any though - in fact I walked more than I thought I would and ate less than I'd planned.


Then a short stroll led us to Place de la Concorde which I mentioned in my previous post. I just did a few random shots - there was too much to go and see without thinking about carefully framing the photos.



Then another saunter to look at my favourite Paris department store Au Printemps


All that was done on the Saturday and then Sunday saw me coming home to my Valentine's Day bouquet one week old - the tulips are now standing tall.

If you click on it though you will see that some of the roses are fading fast so, after transplanting what was still thriving to a proper vase, this is what they look like now (and the two mini clothes pegs with the paste ruby hearts on will be put into my sentimentality box)

It's that time again

The time has come for me to stop kidding myself that I can lose weight on my own. I used to be able to not eat much for a week and drop half a stone. It was something I would regularly do when I was about 20 and for a few years I managed to remain slim without medical aid. Then when it became harder to do that I went to one of 'those doctors' in Harley Street for injections and pills. When my doctor of choice got struck off I found another doctor down the road, one with a celebrity client list, and who had managed to pass himself off as a legitimate health clinic, despite the fact that he was doling out the same injections and pills as the disbarred doctor. I even began buying slimming pills from dealers, so desperate was my desire to stay slim (with the minimum of effort). I can't even begin to recall how many thousands of pounds I must have spent over the years on these meds, legal and illegal, but they did their job and I remained slim and attractive.

Of course when I gave them all up - following a 'bit of a situation' which I might blog about one day - the weight did what it always does when you have artifically kept it down. It piled on and, from the age of about 38, I have had a constant battle with it, one that I have not won for many years.

Weight Watchers is not as big in France as in the US and UK but it is still here. Tomorrow I will be going to a group meeting which is about an hour's drive away and to say I am in the zone is no exaggeration. You know when you get to the stage where you just don't like the body you are in anymore and you know that things have to change, well I reached that last week. I think being here most of the time now on my own is also causing me to turn to food a bit too much and, once on a definite eating programme, it will be easier for me to stay in control of food.

I've often said that given the choice between winning the lottery or being a naturally slim person able to eat anything they wanted, I would pick the latter. It must be the most fantastic feeling in the world to never put on an ounce and be able to wear clothes you had 30 years ago (although my ra-ra mini skirt and pixie boots might look a bit odd round here).

Christmas stuff

We've decided to more or less ignore the festive holiday this year. Out we will go on the 25th to a very nice restaurant - not our favourite Michelin starred one- but the one in our town (still gourmet but not in the same league) and we (Mr FF, his ma and me) will tuck in to food that I have not tired myself out making. Presents will not be exchanged, none of us have anything that we want or need - budgetary constrictions mean that extravagance is out of the question but here's the thing - I'm just bored with Christmas. Is that sad? Also ever since my mum died on 25th Dec about 13 years ago it has not been the same. In fact I can clearly remember the surreal day at Whittington Hospital, North London with Santa and his elves dispensing pressies and mince pies and wondering whether to approach the family sobbing by a bedside.

Still you can't grieve for ever and even thought the first few years were a very sad occasion one has to think of other people and just move on - which I have done, although obviously hidden inside a lot of thought is happening.

As for Christmas number one records - why doesn't anything like this ever reach that high spot? I guess because Simon Cowell isn't involved.

Birthday trophies

There was wine in the bottle at one stage and I stuck the candle in it to try and keep a trace of the wonderful perfume that had been there when the sommelier opened the cork.

It was a very celebratory lunch because our patron (who is the chef) and his wife told us that they had just been awarded a Michelin star.

The little painting was done by Mr FF and it is of the place that we picnicked on Saturday.

I've got another Mr FF present arriving today...I'll keep you posted.


I had lots of lovely comments from bloggers old and new and an award from Dumdad



No essay books will be opened today.

Nearly the end of the year

Put your hands up all those who are glad that the eating and drinking binge time is almost over. I'm not quite the size of this cartoon lady alongside but - give me another week or so of chocolate and champagne consumption like it is going out of fashion - I soon will be. It doesn't take much to make me lose control; any old excuse for second helpings and my plate is the first to be outstretched.

The Christmas lunch went off okay, although my roasties weren't as perfect as usual (arrogant? moi?) - I think they were more suited to be plain boiled spuds, the sort used in salads and, unfortunately, the only ones I could find. There were masses and masses of roast veg - far too many for the three of us (is it just me who gets carried away with quantities at Christmas?) but I'll tell you what. All leftovers worked out really well as a Christmas shepherd's pie eaten on the 27th - with the turkey and stuffing as the base and the poorly roasted spuds and the rest of the roasted veg all blitzed together for the topping.

Presents were good - I won't list everything I received but the highlights were definitely an electric motor for my trike to enable me to whizz up the Breton hills without breathing my last shallow breath; runner-up best presents were a little disc-drive attachment for my notepad that I type all this drivel on and a big brown leather case in which to put all my OU books of the current course (beats my old carrier bag any day).

I've just done the Big Tidy Up - with a hangover too. Last night we went to some neighbours for Breton Coffee (this is their answer to my English AfternoonTea) and a lot of red wine and champagne was drunk. It was good we only had to stagger down two paths and a bit of street to get home. I'm very behind with all my favourite blogs and one other thing that is currently occupying me is that a big pile of books that I ordered last week from Amazon has now arrived and I'm busy working my way through them, beginning with Alan Bennet's Writing Home. I should really be getting on with an essay plan for William Wilberforce but - quite frankly - the old head is banging away a bit too much.

So, chocs and booze away, I'm off for a snooze.

Merry Christmas to all bloggers everywhere

I had such a shock this morning. I pulled up at one of our supermarkets (we've got four in our little town, yes, get us - four), expecting the usual Chrismas Eve turnout of not many people...and I had to go into the overflow car park.

Now, bear in mind this is rural France and even at Christmas - especially with four supermarkets to choose from (I know I said that already but our town is relatively small and it's a big deal to have so many - okay, I'll shut up about it now) there are never that many people and shopping is a real pleasure.

So I went in, dreading the fact I was going to have to push my way through throngs of people - but there was nobody there. It was like a ghost town and I wondered what on earth was going on. I sauntered about, buying my fruit and veg, my cakes, pastries and bread, my last minute bits and pieces, - then I remembered that I needed some kitchen roll - that's in the far corner near the fish counter. I went towards there and all of a sudden stopped dead in my tracks - there were dozens and dozens of people in this particular corner. There might have been hundreds really - all queuing patiently for something. That's where everyone was - waiting to be served with their selection of sea food for the Christmas Eve feast.

It is a French custom to celebrate Christmas very late in the evening on the 24th December. It is a feast called le réveillon and consists of oysters, snails, various sea food delicacies and of course everyone wants to buy the freshest available. Following that there is a goose, duck or the like and then after that a chocolate log called La Buche de Noel. Yes, this happens at something like 10pm. It used to follow midnight mass but less and less people are attending this late night service and I don't blame them at all; otherwise you wouldn't finish eating until about 3 or 4am and you'd be very tired. The French then spend the 25th recovering and taking various potions to help their livers recover.

Anyway, I had to forget about the kitchen roll - it was impossible to negotiate the throngs of people wating for the fish counter. We're not having this sort of feast tomorrow - I'm beginning with a small fish platter, this is true, but it's coquille st Jacques (scallops in a creamy sauce), followed by turkey with the roasted vegetables I recently blogged about followed by a cheese platter (in France the cheese comes before the dessert) and then lastly my favourite quickie dessert I also recently blogged about (I'm in a rush so can't do links to them).

So all bloggers everywhere, I hope you have a lovely time at Christmas. If you are with other people I hope there are no petty squabbles and if you are on your own - just think, you can eat and drink and watch whatever you want whenever you want.

Merry Christmas everybody.

Eat your sprouts - they're good for you

It is my turn to cook the Christmas meal this year; Mr Fancy's ma and I take it in turns each year and this will be the first year I have elected to make a normal Christmas meal. I usually go for the quirky option - the Chinese or Indian alternative, the cold buffet, anything but the whole turkey shebang. But middle-age brings sentimentality to these holidays and I think that this year I am - almost - going to Go Traditional.

I've got my organic locally-reared turkey in the freezer and I'm planning on roasting all the accompanying vegetables - even the dreaded Brussel sprout. These are the little green balls that people are either openly hostile to - but eat because it is Tradition, or else are mildly ambivalent about- they just get eaten because they are also on the plate. However, if the sprouts are roasted they actually become something that people want to eat. Nothing is nicer than a dish of roasted sprouts with pancetta and chestnuts caramelised against them.

Best of all - the kitchen doesn't have that smell of boiling brassica - not a good Christmas odour at all. However, you do still get the other Christmas odour as a result of the roasted sprouts. Some things never change -open the window please.

Ententea cordiale

OFFICIAL CONFIRMATION OF THE CAKE POLL

After an (almost) neck and neck fight to the finish between strawberry cheesecake (my favourite) and tarte au citron, it is the lemon tart that I will now bake for the next French Fancy English Tea Party for Neighbours.

We do this about every three months or so - I lay the table with my late mum's best china, dig out the tea pot, I bake and bake and bake, make scones and try and whip French cream into something resembling clotted stuff. I make little triangular sandwiches with the crusts off - in general, I make an effort.

I think our neighbours enjoy it - they certainly eat and drink a lot. The record for cups of tea drunk by a Frenchman at our place currently stands at seven cups over a three-hour period. The French think they don't like tea because the French tea available at the supermarket is weak and tasteless. But, since the Brit invasion, almost every supermarket around here has an English section. The mark up is about 75% but at least we can easily buy a thick brew like Typhoo or Tetley. Once the French neighbours have tasted a cup of tea that has brewed for a little while in a proper pot, is then served in a china cup, not a mug, they realise what all us Brits have banged on about for centuries - tea rules.

What did the teapot wear to bed?
A nightea!

Why did the tea get away?
Because it was loose!

Why is tea sometimes dangerous?
Because it mugs you!

I'll get my coat

Chef whites/French Fancy not-so-whites

I am the world's messiest cook. I drip, splash, drop and throw food around whilst cooking. I miss receptacles when spooning something from a pan to its destination. Our hob is black ceramic and at the end of a cooking bout it looks like something from a Jackson - Jack the dripper - Pollock painting. What I would like to know is how do television chefs stay so clean, pristine, perfect in their whites?

As I write this I am also watching a French tv chef on channel 8 create the sort of dish that needs lots of preparation. He has several dishes, pans, bowls on the go and he is impeccably clean. It's being done in real time, there is no stopping the camera whilst he goes and changes jackets - he is neat, dapper, pale of face and very very calm. If it were me doing the same dish I would be a mess, splattered and red-cheeked but, strangely enough, I would also be very very calm because I positively adore to cook. Never mind that I create a maelstrom in the kitchen; I really do enjoy the process but I wish that I didn't look quite so dégueulasse* at the end of it.

I wonder why you don't see more chefs wearing blacks. I know you can buy them but I have yet to see anyone wearing them. What about you? Are you a messy or a clean cook?


*disgusting

My favourite quickie dessert

I'm about to divulge a recipe for a dessert that always wins praise. I kid you not - each and every time it has featured on the French Fancy 'come to dinner' invite, there has always been at least one person who has asked - nay, begged - for the recipe. It is quick and foolproof.

I don't weigh and measure, I'm one of those cooks that chucks in a bit of this and a dollop of that, not for me 3ml of ambrosia etc, and this recipe reflects my method.

Line a 20cm tin with greasproof paper.

Cut a Madeira* style cake (in France I use the long quatre quart cake) into thinnish slices and place in bottom of tin (no gaps now).

Into a bowl break loads of meringue nests into big crumbs (I use about 10 but I have used 6 and I have used 12 - it still works)

Add a biggish tub of creme fraiche and a jar of lemon curd to the meringue crumbs and fold it all together (don't over-mix or you won't get yellow streaks from the lemon curd)

Put the mix on top of the cake, level off and place in freezer for (at least) 4 hours.

Remove from tin and leave to thaw at room temp for about 30mins before eating.You can decorate it with berries or mint leaves (I love to eat mint leaves).

Now wasn't this more useful than another fact about the French Revolution?



*I've used crumbled biscuits as the base and that works a treat as well.

I ate some dog food

I recently blogged about the non-delivery of some organic dog food that I'd ordered online. Following on from that I decided that I would return to home cooking for the dogs, something I did about two years ago. The reason I stopped it back then was that I was concerned they would not be getting all the vitamins and minerals they needed. The thing is that commercial dog food was not around in our grandparents' days, yet dogs way back when grew up healthy and happy.

So, back I've gone, and my first concoction - as seen above - is tinned tuna, brown rice, pureed carrots and some sunflower oil. It was so delicious that I had a few spoonfuls,(yes, in front of them - they weren't pleased because they know that the blue bowl is their prep bowl). They also have a cheese course (I know, I know) which is enriched with calcium and into that I press an Omega oil 3,6,9 capsule and a multi vitamin. Their treats are now fresh apple, pear and carrot slices and it's been a joy to say goodbye to the vagaries of delivery vans and the sort of intensive dog food marketing that is aimed at suckers like me.

I know I sound like a doggy nutter and I suppose I am really. I draw the line, however, at clothes for dogs. You'd be surprised at how many dog websites there are now with items like dresses and matching shoes (four of course, be a bit silly with two shoes on four paws), little matching hats and knickers (with a hole for...the tail of course). The only silly dog thing I almost bought was a doggy umberella and a matching human one. Thank goodness I was talked out of it. I want it on record that it was a long time ago and I'm normal again.

Cottage Cheese

There's not much that I miss over here but one thing I do sometimes yearn for is cottage cheese. It used to always be in our fridge, it was one of our staple foods but it is so hard to find out here in our bit of Brittany. There are a few big supermarkets that stock it and a small tub costs €4 which is astronomical.

I made some yesterday for the first time and it has been a great success. It's so simple to do - all you do is almost boil a litre of milk, l (it mustn't be homogenised or UHT), let it cool for a moment or two and then you just add a tablespoon of lemon juice. As you then stir it (with a wooden spoon) you see the curds and whey separating. You then strain it through a fine sieve and when it's really cool you put the white curds in a bowl (chuck out the whey) and into the fridge and by the next morning the soft texture has hardened slightly to be even better than what you buy in the shops.

I never drink ordinary milk anymore -I use soya but from now on I'll be making this cheese all the time. Maybe I could start a cottage industry (groan).

Blessed are the cheese-makers

I miss cottage cheese. There are only one or two shops over here that sell it, as it is not a taste that the French go for. So that's an hour and a half there to go and buy it and when you find it it is in a weeny tub and costs €4. That's no good.

So I've sent away for a cheese making kit and now all I have to do is find a gigantic saucepan that is not aluminium (it affects the taste apparently) and get my brain in gear to follow the instructions. I've got an awful feeling that the culture I bought is going to make a vast quantity of the stuff and it doesn't freeze very well but we'll see how I get on.

In my mind is this little fantasy about it going so fantastically well that I will then begin a little cottage (sorry!) industry with labels on etc etc. You get the picture.

A Drunken Day

Date -Sunday 3 September 2006

Venue - Auberge de Grand Maison, Mur de Bretagne

A lunch held to celebrate the signing of a Pacs between my man and me.

What a great day we all had. Many many bottles of wine were drank. I didn't fall over once.

(why I've used the name 'yumyum' is that it used to be a nom de plume on a few forums)