Although the climate seems to be going mad and it is twenty five degrees Celsius in October, it is the season of ‘mists and mellow fruitfulness’, and the walnut trees are shedding their loads. In the fields, and on the roadsides, eager gatherers can be seen baskets or buckets in hand collecting fallen walnuts. My family returns from every stroll pockets bursting with the hard round shells. My French wife assures me that those falling on public paths are anyone’s. However, being French She doesn’t always stick to the paths last year she had a run in with a neighbour collecting walnuts under a tree in the middle of field. Despite this, it is true to say most inhabitants of our region collect rather than buy walnuts, largely due to the vast number of walnut trees here.
I must admit to never having thought about where walnuts came from. In London, as a child, I only ate walnuts at Christmas. Father Christmas always left a couple of walnuts and a satsuma in our stockings. Meanwhile, the residents of Grenoble in France knew exactly where walnuts came from; here in France they are known as ‘noix de Grenoble’, literally Grenoble nuts. The residents are proud of their nuts. In fact, in France the walnut is governed by two AOCs (Appellation d’Origine Controle first used for wines and now extended to other foods); the ‘noix de Grenoble’ and the ‘noix de Perigord’. The ‘noix de Grenoble’ even has its own website: www.aoc-noixdegrenoble.com
In the Grenoble region most farms have at least a few walnut trees. However, there are fields of walnut trees lining the roads entering Grenoble attesting to the importance of this tree to the region. South of Grenoble, heading towards Valence, giant ‘séchoirs’ (used to dry the walnuts) can be seen on the roadside. In the village of Vinay, it is possible to visit ‘Le Grand Séchoir’ (http://www.isere-annuaire.com/curiosite/vinay-sechoir.htm), a converted farm that traces the history of the ‘noix’. Walnuts have been grown around Grenoble since Roman times and local recipes make good use of the walnut. Here are three:
In the spring the French make an aperitif wine by soaking young green walnuts in red wine.
Vin de noix
32 green walnuts (collected at the end of June)
5 litres of red wine
1 litre of alcohol
800 grammes of sugar
1 stick of vanilla (optional)
The ingredients are left in a container for one month. The liquid is then strained off and bottled. The resulting wine improves with age.
This can be followed by the famous ‘Salade dauphinoise’
Ingredients :
- Lettuce
- Diced beetroot
- Diced boiled potaoes
- Diced Gruyère or Emmental cheese
- Walnuts broken into pieces
- Salad dressing, ideally made with walnut oil.
To Finish‘tarte au noix’ is a popular dessert.
Walnut tart
Shortcrust pastry
Filling:
150g walnuts broken into small pieces
20 cl whipping cream
1/2 cup water
75g sugar
2 tbs honey
2 egg yolks
Preparation:
Roll out dough and fit into tart pan , pressing against side. Cut off excess dough. Chill.
Filling:
Preheat oven to 220°C
Bring water and sugar to a boil in a saucepan over medium heat, stirring until sugar has dissolved. Boil, without stirring, until amber.
Remove from heat and immediately but slowly add hot cream . Once bubbles subside, stir in walnuts, honey and egg yolks.
Bake for 10 minutes. Decorate surface with walnuts.
Reduce oven to 170°C and bake until filling is golden-brown, 25 minutes.
Serve warm or at room temperature.
The nuts can also be pressed to release oil, much valued for salad dressings. Then there are the health benefits of eating walnuts. They contain Omega oils which help to combat cardio- vascular disease. The wood of the walnut tree is valued by furniture makers for its colour and properties. Rifles were made out of walnut wood during the Second World War. Even the walnut shells have uses in industrial applications, such as polishing certain materials. All in all, the walnut is a tree the residents of Grenoble can be proud of.
Tuesday 13 October 2009
Monday 12 October 2009
French restaurants let us down again.
We should have known better but we never learn. France may claim to have the best food in the world but service leaves a lot to be desired. Sunday was Sylvie's birthday and her Dad came to take us out to lunch. We have been disappointed on a number of occasions by the restaurants in Allevard, so decided to play it safe. We had already eaten at the 'Hotel des Alpes', a good experience, the restuarant is part of 'Logis de France' and appears in the 'Guide Michelin'. We, therefore, felt safe booking a table, how wrong we were!
Things got off to a bad start as we waited to be given the menu. It is worth mentioning here that we were accompanied by two, young and restless children. In the end, we resorted to catching the waitress at the kitchen door and collecting the menu ourselves. The wait to place our order was a little shorter as we managed to catch the waitress' eye before she disappeared into the kitchen. We were finally served a 'mise en bouche' and a jug of water. The waitress was hardly what one would describe as welcoming. It is true the restaurant was busy and she was clearly stressed, but a smile goes a long way in these circumstances.
The next step was relatively rapid. Unfortunately, rather than bring the kids burger and chips first, they brought the starters for two of us and the main dish for those who hadn't ordered a starter. The advantage of bringing the kids' food first is that they are occupied eating and don't get irritated by hunger. When we asked about their food we were told it was cooking. However, all was not well with the adults food.
The waitress remarked that she had forgotten the knives and forks. My father-in-law, someone who has worked in the catering industry, mentioned that rather than the six oysters, promised by the menu, he only had five. In addition, she had brought some butter but no bread. She scuttled off, and instead of returning with the missing items, proceeded to serve other tables.
When we finally caught her attention and asked about the missing oysters, she blithely told us the kitchen had run out of oysters. We also pointed out that she had offered scallops to replace the scampi, which the kitchen had also run out off, on one of the salads. She seemed perplexed and answered that the salad was with or without scampi. She then dove off to recover the cutlery and the bread.
In the meantime, the kids were sliding off their chairs and complaining that they were hungry. Sylvie was fuming and ready to leave without paying. However, my British phlegm, or fear of making a scene, made us sit it out. The kids food finally arrived, the burger was the most well cooked I have seen in nine years in France, generally they like their mat slightly browned and oozing blood. The kids attacked with gusto. The remaining two courses followed swiflty.
Sadly, we were to be disappointed here too. The meat, wild boar, was too salty and lacked sauce. The crozet, small pasta squares from the Savoie, were scaldingly hot. Finally, the accompanying courgette omelette was far too salty. Hardly the 'haute cuisine' we had expected.
When the owner, who was helping serve, cleared our table and asked if everything was okay she was met with a firm 'no'. We justified our lack of satisfaction, to which she replied that she was, with a lack of conviction, sorry but they were very busy. My father-in-law replied that this was hardly our problem and he expected a discount. The discount was duly accorded but we left disappointed that Sylvie's birthday meal had been ruined.
The experience has led us to reflect on the increasing lack of service in France. True, Parisian waiters have always had their arrogant reputation, but my Father-in-law was taught the value of service and knows how to manage a dining room. Even I know the basic 'dos and don'ts' of customer satisfaction. Last year, we went to the US on holiday, the level of service here extends to the nauseating but at least you want to return. This saturday we are going to try a new restaurant with good reviews, fingers crossed that our faith will be restored.
Things got off to a bad start as we waited to be given the menu. It is worth mentioning here that we were accompanied by two, young and restless children. In the end, we resorted to catching the waitress at the kitchen door and collecting the menu ourselves. The wait to place our order was a little shorter as we managed to catch the waitress' eye before she disappeared into the kitchen. We were finally served a 'mise en bouche' and a jug of water. The waitress was hardly what one would describe as welcoming. It is true the restaurant was busy and she was clearly stressed, but a smile goes a long way in these circumstances.
The next step was relatively rapid. Unfortunately, rather than bring the kids burger and chips first, they brought the starters for two of us and the main dish for those who hadn't ordered a starter. The advantage of bringing the kids' food first is that they are occupied eating and don't get irritated by hunger. When we asked about their food we were told it was cooking. However, all was not well with the adults food.
The waitress remarked that she had forgotten the knives and forks. My father-in-law, someone who has worked in the catering industry, mentioned that rather than the six oysters, promised by the menu, he only had five. In addition, she had brought some butter but no bread. She scuttled off, and instead of returning with the missing items, proceeded to serve other tables.
When we finally caught her attention and asked about the missing oysters, she blithely told us the kitchen had run out of oysters. We also pointed out that she had offered scallops to replace the scampi, which the kitchen had also run out off, on one of the salads. She seemed perplexed and answered that the salad was with or without scampi. She then dove off to recover the cutlery and the bread.
In the meantime, the kids were sliding off their chairs and complaining that they were hungry. Sylvie was fuming and ready to leave without paying. However, my British phlegm, or fear of making a scene, made us sit it out. The kids food finally arrived, the burger was the most well cooked I have seen in nine years in France, generally they like their mat slightly browned and oozing blood. The kids attacked with gusto. The remaining two courses followed swiflty.
Sadly, we were to be disappointed here too. The meat, wild boar, was too salty and lacked sauce. The crozet, small pasta squares from the Savoie, were scaldingly hot. Finally, the accompanying courgette omelette was far too salty. Hardly the 'haute cuisine' we had expected.
When the owner, who was helping serve, cleared our table and asked if everything was okay she was met with a firm 'no'. We justified our lack of satisfaction, to which she replied that she was, with a lack of conviction, sorry but they were very busy. My father-in-law replied that this was hardly our problem and he expected a discount. The discount was duly accorded but we left disappointed that Sylvie's birthday meal had been ruined.
The experience has led us to reflect on the increasing lack of service in France. True, Parisian waiters have always had their arrogant reputation, but my Father-in-law was taught the value of service and knows how to manage a dining room. Even I know the basic 'dos and don'ts' of customer satisfaction. Last year, we went to the US on holiday, the level of service here extends to the nauseating but at least you want to return. This saturday we are going to try a new restaurant with good reviews, fingers crossed that our faith will be restored.
Friday 2 October 2009
Earthquake
Last night, the earth moved for me and my wife. Unfortunately it was not in the way we might have hoped. I was reading my book, on the Mormons, while my wife slept beside me. Suddenly the house shifted from right to left, with an accompanying crack. We sat upright and she asked me, 'What was that?'. I hopped out of bed and looked out of the window. Sometimes the house shakes when a particularly heavy lorry passes on the main road, but at that time of night everything was quiet on the main road. The idea that it had been an earthquake entered my head. I descended the stairs to check but couldn't see any damage. Returning to my bed, I wondered if it had been a quake and what would happen if a bigger one occured. Recent events in Asia didn't help put my mind at ease. As I dropped off, I wondered whether the bed was really shaking.
The next day, I questioned various people living in our village, but no one had felt anything. Finally checking the internet we discovered that an earthquake had indeed taken place 6km from where we lived. It was only small, 2.2 on the Richter scale, not sufficient to be noticed according to the website I consulted. However, I can assure you that we noticed, and it was impressive.
It is quite something to feel a solid structure like a house shift sideways. It brings home the power of nature even in a minor way. Imagine the force that is able to shift the ground beneath our feet. Sometimes it is easy to forget that the Alpes are moving, minor earthquakes such as this are common occurances. Nevertheless, I have lived here 9 years and it was a first for me. Now I understand the anti- seismic appartements blocks in downtown Grenoble.
The next day, I questioned various people living in our village, but no one had felt anything. Finally checking the internet we discovered that an earthquake had indeed taken place 6km from where we lived. It was only small, 2.2 on the Richter scale, not sufficient to be noticed according to the website I consulted. However, I can assure you that we noticed, and it was impressive.
It is quite something to feel a solid structure like a house shift sideways. It brings home the power of nature even in a minor way. Imagine the force that is able to shift the ground beneath our feet. Sometimes it is easy to forget that the Alpes are moving, minor earthquakes such as this are common occurances. Nevertheless, I have lived here 9 years and it was a first for me. Now I understand the anti- seismic appartements blocks in downtown Grenoble.
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