Meet Frank

Frank is one of our two Flemish/Belgian weather anchors. The second one is a woman, called Sabine. However, Frank has grown into a national celebrity, not only because he’s funny, but also because he’s really defending the ‘cause’. He is what we call a ‘green guy’, always trying to do things that are beneficial to the environment and our planet in general. Wind or rain, heat wave or pour-down, nothing can stop him from cycling to the television studios. Not because he can’t afford a car, but simply because he wants to protect nature.

This is Frank and tomorrow's weather forecast.
The red triangle under the central 'H' is Belgium.

He also has a keen interest in astronomy, follows the comings and goings of the space station ISS and spices up his weather talks with all kinds of interesting facts … like the history of Summer and Winter time! During his weekly weather talk on one of our popular radio stations – radio 2  (click on the link and select "luister live" if you want to listen to some Belgian radio) – he came up with this story:

Before 1892, in Europe, each country used to have its own time-zone. In the second half of the 19th century, when the first train started running in many countries, it very quickly became clear that a common timetable was indispensable. Therefore, all over Europe, or at least in the countries where trains were running – clocks were synchronized in order to facilitate international travel.

During WW1, when Germany took over the rule of a large part of Europe, Summer time was introduced for the first time. Between the two WW some kind of Summer time was maintained, but it was only during WW2 that the original German system was to be introduced again.

From 1946 till the first half of the 1970-ies, most European countries went back to a uniform time all year round. But starting 1972 and the beginning of the oil crisis, little by little European countries started to introduce Summer and Winter time again, in an attempt to save fuel and electricity. Belgium has been following this rule since 1977.

There is a lot of controversy about it: farmers pretend that it upsets their cows, which give less milk; people with small children say that it has a negative impact on their children’s sleeping habits … and so on. Personally, I don’t mind moving into Winter time, as I really appreciate the extra hour of sleep we get … especially as the effect lasts for several months. I do loath going into Summer time though, as it takes me weeks and weeks to adapt to the new schedule.

What are your feelings about Summer and Winter time and do you feel/dread the change-over?

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Shopping for a new clock

In July last year my kitchen clock broke down. This really inconvenienced me as it was a very reliable clock. Moreover, it was one of those ‘intelligent’ clocks which automatically switches to winter and summer time twice a year. Apparently it had some ‘satellite’ connection with the main European clock which is located somewhere in Cologne, a German town near the Belgian border. And it had some emotional value too, as it was a housewarming gift from my late husband’s mother to celebrate me moving into my current apartment in May 2001. 

For days and days I tried to ‘revive’ it by putting in new batteries, setting it right every time it stopped and coaxing it into resuming its regular duty. Nothing helped, and after ten days of ‘reanimation’ attempts, I decided to give it a last resting place in kitchen clock’s paradise, a.k.a. the recycling park, hoping that some of its pieces would find a new life in another digital appliance of some sort.

For the next six weeks I intensively shopped for a new kitchen clock. I could have gone to our local jewellers’, who had some models on display. But they all looked too stuffy and expensive to be put up in a kitchen. At one point - around Mid-August – we stopped by a white goods shop in a nearby village, hoping that they would have something suitable. Just when we were about to walk into the showroom, my friend had in incoming call on his mobile phone. So I walked in on my own and started exploring the showroom. I was so busy looking up at the walls – they wouldn’t put a wall clock on the floor, or would they? – that I didn’t see the little step down into the next part of the showroom ...

Before I realized what was happing, I was flat on my stomach with my handbag’s content flying into the air and landing all around me. I felt a burning pain in my left knee and right wrist. When I looked up, I saw my friend standing over me, his phone still in his hand, and I heard him say: “I have to hang up now.’ In the meantime my survival instinct had taken over and I scrambled to my feet, collecting the contents of my bag and trying to look as if nothing had happened.

A few seconds later, the sales attendant appeared from the backroom, asking if he could help us. I’m sure he was talking about a possible purchase and not about my unfortunate fall! I bit my lip, tried to forget about what happened and enquired about kitchen clocks. No luck, they were not part of the shops’ standard assortment.

In the end I bought this kitchen clock in Obernai, in the French Alsace, during our 2009 autumn weekend trip to the region ... just to find out – only a week later – that our local supermarket also sells kitchen clocks!

My glittery kitchen clock.

The new clock looks fine, slightly kitschy - but , after all, it is a kit(s)chen clock, isn't it? – with its glittery spots that light up in the sun! And it works just fine too. However, it isn’t a ‘clever’ clock. This means that it requires my intervention to set it to wintertime at two in the morning tomorrow. Oh well, I guess it can wait till nine when I get up to have my Sunday breakfast.

Happy ‘Wintertime’ to all of you who are living in Europe and enjoy the extra hour of sleep!

_________ 

Almost real

While I was going through some photos from my recent Touraine visit in May this year, I came across this picture from the mantelpiece in the ‘Salles des Cordes’ (the Ropes’ room) in Amboise castle.

Click to enlarge and to admire the details!

Although this mantelpiece is made of solid limestone, the carving is so delicate and detailed that it almost looks as if the ropes are real. Those renaissance stone carvers must have been very talented and patient to create such exquisite works of art.

Just zoom in to the picture and discover for yourself the skills of these exceptional artists. It looks so real that it will leave you breathless.

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Hibernating

Don’t you just envy animals that hibernate during the cold winter months? Hedgehogs, turtles, bears, groundhogs, some squirrels, ... as soon as the first frost sets in, they scurry into their dens, underground or at the bottom of a cave. There they snugly curl up – alone or in groups - and fall into a deep sleep until the first signs of spring start to show.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could do the same? Since morning temperatures have dropped to a mere 1 or 2°C,– which is unusually cold for this time of year - getting out of bed at
6 a.m. to go to work is becoming more and more difficult. I don’t know whether it is the season or the fact that recently I’ve been sleeping so much better and deeper thanks to a few sleeping tips that I found in a magazine.

You could try counting sheep - these are actually goat - when you can't sleep.
But I find the tips from the magazine far more effective.

These tips are mostly meant for people who wake up several times during the night and then have trouble falling asleep again. You simply start by answering three questions:

1. do you consume alcohol less than 3 hours before going to bed?
2. is there a clock in your room that permits you to read the time while you’re lying down in bed?
3. do you fall asleep in front of the television?


If you answer ‘yes’ to even only one of these questions, the following tips may have a beneficial effect on your sleeping pattern.

In the case of question 1, the solution is to drink no alcohol at all or to have your regular nightcap at least three hours before turning in. Because, although alcohol will help you to fall asleep, it’ll also wake you up as soon as its effect wears off.

To solve problem 2, simply position the clock in such a way that you can’t see it without getting up.

As for problem 3, ask your partner to poke you as soon as you start dozing off. Get up, walk around for a while or go straight to bed.

The main change I’ve made is regarding question 2. Yes, I do have a clock in my room – otherwise I wouldn’t be able to set the morning alarm. However, I have to lean over on one elbow to see it. I therefore haven’t changed its place, but since a couple of nights I refrain from looking at it when I wake up during the night; which is usually around 1 a.m. and 3 p.m. The magazine article is right when it states that, looking at the time will automatically incite your brain to calculate how many hours of sleep you’ve already had, and how many you have until the alarm will ring.

This ‘mathematical activity’ will waken up your brain completely and you’ll start musing and worrying about other things … which will make it difficult to relax and fall asleep again.

Since I’ve stopped looking at the clock – which wasn’t easy at first, because it has almost become a natural reflex – I usually drift into sleep again after five minutes. I wake up much better rested and have more energy during the day.

Despite this major improvement, hibernating during the coldest time of the year remains an attractive idea …

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A thing of beauty is a joy for ever

You’ve probably heard about the Baccarat rose, a long-stemmed, deep red rose with velvet-like petals. Receiving one perfect Baccarat rose from someone definitely means that that person has very warm feelings for you ...

But did you know that Baccarat is also the name of a town in the Meurthe-et-Moselle department in the French north-eastern Lorraine region? And that this town has given its name to some of the finest crystal in the world.

The history of Baccarat crystal starts in 1764 when Louis XV grants the Bishop of Metz the right to establish a glassworks at Baccarat.

But it would take till 1816 before the first real crystal was made. Little by little Baccarat conquered the world, and the rich and famous of this earth soon decided that they couldn’t live without a real Baccarat chandelier. Today you’ll find Baccarat chandeliers in national palaces, royal and presidential residencies, sumptuous private homes, theatres and opera houses and even cathedrals in France and South America.

One of the more impressive pieces is a chandelier with more than 200 light bulbs and a total weight of over 1,000 kilos. It was commissioned at the end of the 19th century by the Maharajah of Gwalior. And Tsar Nicolas II of Russia had 12 electrified candelabras made for the Winter Palace in Saint Petersburg. Each candelabrum had a heighth of 3.80 metres.

In 1994, to commemorate its 230th anniversary, Baccarat created a real masterpiece which required all their technicians’ skills and expertise: a gigantic chandelier in pure 19th century style, with the following impressive characteristics:

- height: 5 metres
- diameter: 3 metres
- weight: 1,500 kilos
- 2,150 metres of electric wire

It took 15,000 hours to build it. We were lucky to see this masterpiece when we visited the Baccarat museum (sorry no photos!) in the late nineties during one of our annual Lorraine weekends. It hung in the middle of a darkened room. Instead of being high-up against the ceiling, it was suspended on eye-level, thus allowing the visitor to admire the intricate details. The light of several halogen spots was beautifully and delicately reflected by the thousands and thousands of facets of artistically cut and polished pieces of crystal, making the whole chandelier sparkle like a giant diamond.

There was a text panel with all the details about this work of art. I remember that it even mentioned the number of people and the time it took to clean it. I have forgotten the exact numbers, but I know that it was mind blasting.

One of my delicate Champagne glasses.

After visiting the Baccarat museum we made the mandatory stop at the gift shop, which in fact is a gigantic showroom. The whole Baccarat collection – from 19th century type coloured and engraved crystal to modern design pieces - was on display. I saw some elegant champagne glasses and decided to buy a set of six, until … I saw the prize: almost 500 old French francs, which is 3,000 old Belgian francs or 75 of current euros for just one glass! I quickly changed my mind and bought only two. As it was a timeless model, I could come back the following years and buy two more glasses each time, until I had my set of six.

I never did go back though, because the glasses turned out to be too delicate to use on a regular basis. The rim of the glass is paper-thin and you have the impression that it’ll break as soon as you try sipping your Champagne. When you wash and dry them – putting them in the dishwasher is completely out of the question – you have a tendency to put a soft pillow on your kitchen worktop, just in case the glass should slip out of your hands.

Today they sit in their original cases with velvet lining and I only use them on very special occasions! A waste of money, then? No, because as someone – who was it again? – once said: “A thing of beauty is a joy for ever.”

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Another Sunday lunch

Today, at half past twelve – as usual – my mother arrived for our traditional Sunday lunch. Over the last three days, I’ve been in a ‘cooking-mood’ and therefore made three courses. We started out with freshly made pumpkin soup,

Sliced pumpkin, nicely boiling away before it became
a delicious and creamy soup.

... followed by a ‘paprika-chicken-in-brick’ with a salad of Belgian endives and some ‘mache’. Dessert was an apple crumble.

The apple crumble was a great success, and my mother decided to take two portions home with her. She has been invited by a neighbour-friend for coffee this afternoon and thought my crumble with some fresh crème would make a nice treat.

The apple crumble before it went into the oven.

In case your interested, here’s the recipe. It’s dead easy, even if you are not into pastry and desserts.

This is what you need:

- 500 gr of firm apples (equals 2 big or 3 small apples)

- 50 gr of sugar
- 25 gr of butter

Dough

- 225 gr of flower
- 100 gr of sugar
- 50 gr of almond powder or 1 portion of vanilla sugar (I used almond powder)
- 125 gr of ice-cold butter, cut into small pieces

This is what you do:

Start by making the dough. Mix all the ingredients in a large bowl and knead them using your finger tips, until the butter and the rest of the ingredients turn into a sand-like breadcrumbs-like substance. It may take a while and is excellent exercise on your hands and fingers! When it’s ready, set it aside in a cool place.

Next, peel the apples and cut them into small pieces (2.5 x 2.5 cm). On a medium heat, let them caramelise in a small sauce pan with the butter and the sugar. This takes about 5 minutes. Make sure the apples don’t turn into apple sauce!

Put the apples in a shallow baking tin, sprinkle the dough on them and put in an oven which has been preheated to 180°C for about 25 to 30 minutes or until the top is nice and golden-brown.

The apple crumble, freshly out of the oven.

Serve the crumble hot, lukewarm or even cold with some vanilla ice-cream or a blob of whipped or even liquid cream. Your guests will love it ... and so will you!

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How about a little quiz?

This afternoon, while I was making pumpkin soup from a large slice of pumpkin that I bought last Friday at Rob Gourmet market, I realized that I could use some help from this little friend. 

Any idea what it is?

________

And now for something completely different

For the last three weeks Belgium has been in the grip of a horrific murder trial, which will go down into history as the ‘parachute murder’. The facts date from November 2006 and this is what happened:

Two women, E1 and E2, who are members of a parachute club, have an affaire with the same man: M, who’s also a member of the club. E1 is married and has two teenage children. E2 is a young single woman of 22. Both women pretend to be ‘best friends’. E2 knows that E1 and M are lovers. E1 however is not aware of the fact that her ‘best friend’ has affaire with M too.

In November 2006, the trio and several other club members set out for a day of parachute jumping. The two E-s, M and another man are the last to leave the plane. During the free fall they want to make a circular formation holding hands. E2 is the last one to jump. However, instead of joining the formation, she stays behind, over-viewing what is happening below.

At the required height the formation breaks up and all parachutists pull the knob that opens the ‘pilot chute’, which in its turn is supposed to open the main parachute. However, when E1 pulls the knob, the pilot chute comes loose and floats away. E1’s main chute therefore doesn’t open. The others see how, desperately E1 tries to open her emergency parachute, which … doesn’t open either. Ten seconds later E1 hits the ground and is killed instantly. At first everybody thinks it is just an unfortunate accident, until the enquiry shows that the strap that attaches the pilot chute to the main parachute has been cut and that somebody has tampered with the emergency parachute.

There are three suspects: E1’s husband, who wasn’t anywhere near the scene of the crime but who had had access to his wife’s parachute; M. who could have cut the strap when E1 was spending the night in his apartment a week before the fatal jump; and finally E2 who was at M’s apartment that same night too, but who slept on a mattress in the living room, while E1 and M shared the bedroom. E1’s parachute was within easy reach all night!

For three years the detectives tried to solve the mystery. E1’s husband was quickly ruled out as a suspect as he didn’t have the necessary technical knowledge to tamper with his wife’s parachute. Moreover, he was very much in love with her and knew nothing about her illicit affaire with M. M himself was also very smitten with E1 and therefore had no motif to kill her. Which leaves us with E2 who had the knowledge, the opportunity and the motif, as she was extremely jealous of her rival who was M’s favourite.

There are many other elements that supported the detectives’ conclusion: E2’s strange behaviour during and after the fatal parachute jump, her psychological profile and the fact that she lied about several facts.

This month, four years after the fatal ‘accident’, E2 has been brought to trial. A jury of twelve has been confronted with the elements the detectives have collected and the reports of several psychiatrists, called in by the prosecution as well as the defence.

The public opinion was divided over the matter. As there was no real material proof of E2’s guilt, she stood a 50/50 chance of being acquitted. It took the jury four hours to reach a verdict, which was pronounced last night, shortly after 7 p.m. Any idea what the outcome was? And what would your verdict have been?

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Autumn blues

With the wind and rain outside, I just don't feel like looking out of the window. I simply wish I could have one of these installed to block out the view ...

A beautiful stained-glass window in the Château of Amboise.

If you look closely (just click to enlarge) you'll see the Loire River and, on the left, part of the Pont Leclerc. 

Le Pont Leclerc in Amboise.

The bridge is named after Philippe François Marie Leclerc, comte de Hauteclocque, born on Nov. 22nd, 1902 in Belloy-Saint-Léonard in the Somme department in northern France and killed in a plane crash on Nov. 28, 1947 in Algeria. He was Maréchal de France and a WW2 hero.

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Strikes - part two

What happened before ...

In view of the petrol shortage, however, we thought it wiser to stay closer to our hotel, in order to save fuel. Although we don’t like big towns, we decided to visit Nancy.

The main attraction is the Place Stanislas, named after Stanislaus Leszczynski who ruled the Duchy of Lorraine – of which Nancy was the capital – for 29 years in the eighteenth century. In 1737, 28 years after he had been thrown out of Poland where he used to be king, Stanislas was entrusted by the French king Louis XV – who happened to be his son-in-law - with the rule of Duchy of Lorraine. I suppose Louis XV did this at his wife’s request to give the man something to do and to assure him an income. I base this supposition on the fact that, in 1766, shortly after Stanislas’ death, the Duchy was reattached to the throne.

Anyway, Stanislas was a very ‘enlightened’ head of state, who brought wealth, beauty and elegance to the Lorraine region. The Place Stanislas – called ‘Place Stan’ by the locals (not unlike the Place Plum, short for Place Plumereau, in the historic part of Tours) is an excellent example of Stanislas’ famous entrepreneurs skills. Since 1983 it is also part of the Unesco World Heritage.

A panoramic view of the Place Stanislas in Nancy.

Photo: Wikipedia

Wikipedia says:
“The Place Stanislas is 125 meters long and 106 meters wide. It is paved with light ochre stones, with two lines of darker stones forming a diagonal cross motif. The square is surrounded by an architecturally harmonious ensemble of buildings.

The four corners and West and East sides of the square feature gilded wrought iron gates and lanterns, created by Jean Lamour (1698–1771), who was also responsible for the wrought iron balustrade on the main staircase in the Hôtel de Ville and the balcony across the centre of its main façade. The North-West and North-East corners also feature ornate fountains designed by Barthélémy Guibal (1699–1757).”

If you want to learn more about the architectural features of the Place, click here.

We really enjoyed our visit. The weather was fine, and we had our lunch al fresco, on the terrace of the restaurant in a little square near the famous Place. We both had a delicious ‘Coq au Rieseling with Spätzels’, a regional speciality.

On our way out of town later that afternoon we ran into a big traffic jam caused by cars that were queuing at one of the few gas stations that were still in business. There were policemen everywhere, trying to organize the access to the station, with nervous drivers honking their horn and shouting each time a car tried to squeeze into the line of waiting cars.

Let us hope it won't come to this this time!
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Strikes - part one

France isn’t the only country that is being paralyzed by strikes. Belgium is having its fair share too. The impact isn’t as serious as in France, though, as only the train conductors have decided on go on a 24 hour strike. And although just two out of the five national trade unions support the strike, almost all train traffic has been suspended since yesterday 10 p.m.

The people who are most inconvenienced are the hundreds of thousand of commuters who use the train to go to work. Some of them have decided to take the day off, others are exceptionally taking their car and others are carpooling. It goes without saying that the extra cars make the usual traffic jams even longer and this morning at eight there was a total of 350 km of cars queuing to get into the larger cities.

Photo: www.nieuwsblad.be

There is talk about another strike tomorrow, but that remains to be confirmed. The reason for the strike is a major reorganization within the freight train department. The conductors who are on strike today aren’t even concerned. But I guess it’s all about solidarity. However, it isn’t fair on the commuters who are the victim of it all.

The situation in France, with fuel shortages and truck drivers blocking the motorways, reminds me of a similar situation in the nineties. It was in the month of September and we had planned our annual Lorraine-Alsace weekend trip as usual. In those days we used to stay at a Château-hôtel near the town of Lunéville, which is about 50 km south-east of Nancy. Aware of the fact that it might be difficult to find fuel in France, we filled up the car in the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg, in a service station just a few kilometres from the French border. We even bought a plastic jerry can and took an extra 10 litres, just in case!

On Friday, on our way down, we had our usual lunch stop in the town of Pont-à-Mousson and the restaurant of Pierre Bonaventure, who prepares succulent steaks in a pizza oven. I’ve written about this exceptional restaurant here. On Saturday, the second day of our three-day trip, we wanted to tour around, visiting the Vosges mountain ridge, covering something like 200 to 250 kilometres on steep mountain roads ... using a lot of petrol!

(to be continued)

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Shopping

Yesterday my friend and I went food shopping. What’s so unusual about that, you’ll probably ask. Everybody shops for food, unless you grow it yourself. And even then, there are some items you need to get from the shops. It becomes more and more difficult to be self-sufficient like Tom and Barbara in the BBC comedy series ‘The Good Life’ from the seventies.

This shopping trip, however, was special because we went to Rob Gourmet market on the outskirts of Brussels. I simply loooooove this store, but can’t afford shopping there every week, because it’s far more expensive than our regular Carrefour or Delhaize supermarkets. But every now and then I like to splash out a little, especially when there are some products in season that are hard to get elsewhere. I wanted to take my camera, to share some photos with you, but I'm not sure if the groom who awaits you by the door would have let me take it in.

Autumn is game and mushroom season, so we set out to buy some meat and wild ‘toadstools’ to treat ourselves to a nice meal. But more about that later.

I also bought 100 gr. of fresh grey North Sea shrimps, North Sea crab salad, Italian Mortadella sausage, ‘sand’ potatoes from the French Somme Bay, a Victoria baby pineapple, grain mustard with Guérande sea salt, a bulb of pink garlic, 500 gr. of whole spelt flower, apple-kiwi yoghurt, Italian pannacotta, Selles-sur-Cher goat’s cheese and a box of ‘macarons’, …

From left to right: pistachio, speculoos, strawberry (2); chocolate (2),
lemon (2), red currant (2), caramel.
Click to enlarge and to get a mouth-watering closer look.

A ‘macaron’ is a small soft round cake with a diameter of approx. 3 to 5 cm. It’s a French specialty and several French towns claim its origin: Nancy, Amiens, Rouan, Cormery, Chartres … in northern France and Saint-Emilion and Saint-Jean-de-Luz in the south.

It is based on the ‘meringue’ principle and made with almond powder, sugar and egg whites. Several natural aromas and colorants are added: chocolate, lemon, strawberries, pistachio, caramel, etc. A cream paste of a matching colour and flavour is put between two cookies. The result is a very delicate dessert cookie that goes well with coffee, tea and … Champagne. The macarons are sold in boxes of 5, 8 or 11 pieces, which is quite unusual as these don’t really make round figures. The reason for this is simple, as the saleslady told me … the number is based on the size of the gift box!

I bought these macarons at my mother’s request. She will be entertaining some former schoolfriends tomorrow afternoon and wants to serve these little jewels with a glass of Champagne. I’ve been invited too … to open the bottle!

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No news, good news ... I reckon

There is very little or nothing to report ... I go to work every morning, except on Fridays and during weekends. When I get home, I do the regular housework and make myself a light supper ...

Oh yes, there is one thing. Since last Friday I have been experimenting with my new laundry machine. Here it is!

Looks good, doesn't it?

It's extremely user-friendly.

Just select the right program and push the 'start' button!
Like everything in Belgium, the commands are bi-lingual.
Smart machine.

And ... here we go!

The result? Perfect ... so far.

I'll let you know the day it goes wrong.

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Blow your horn!

Every month the Loire Valley Tourist board sends me an e-mail listing the current and upcoming events in the Touraine region. Even when I don’t have any immediate travel plans, I like to browse through the information to see if there is anything interesting that I should know about or that could be useful for my next trip.

The most recent newsletter had a short, yet interesting article about an upcoming event in the courtyard of the Château d’Amboise. On November 6th on the occasion of he feast of Saint-Hubert, patron saint of the hunters, (although the official day is Nov. 3rd), hunters in full riding gear and their horses and hounds will assemble in front of the castle to the sound of the hunting horns.
 
The tradition of the ‘chasse à courre’, as it is called in French and meaning ‘hunting on horseback’, goes back to the 16th century when noblemen used to assemble around their king to go big game hunting in the surrounding forests and fields.
 
The article reminded me of a funny thing that happened to us in May, when I was visiting the Loire Valley with my friends B. and J.L. On Monday, we spent a large part of the day with blogger friends Susan and Simon who live in Preuilly-sur-Claise and who take tourists on guided tours of the châteaux in their vintage Traction Avant Citroën car, lovingly called Célestine. Towards the end of the day, Simon showed us an unusual view of the Château of Chenonceau, from the banks of the Cher somewhere in the woods.
 

A view of the Château of Chenonceau
that very few tourists get to see for real.

Thank you Susan and Simon!

 

While we were shooting photos, we suddenly heard the sound of a hunting horn. It was hard to tell were it came from. At first it sounded as if the horn player was standing on top of one of the castle’s towers. A few seconds later, however, the sound came from the woods on the other side of the river. And it seemed to come closer. This was very unusual, as the official hunting season only starts in September. Were we about to be overrun by a pack of hounds and hunters on horseback?

 

As soon as we had finished our photo shoot, we jumped in the car and counted on Simon to drive us into safety. Although we were heading for the main road, the sound of the horn became louder and louder. And then we saw were it came from! There was a little white van parked on the banks of the river with a man in hunter’s uniform and horn standing beside it. He was facing the river and didn’t even hear us coming as he was concentrating on blowing the large copper hunting horn in the traditional and ceremonial way. There wasn’t a hunter, horse or a dog in sight!

 

The horn player is behind the van.
Notice the speed at which Simon is driving to get us into safety!

A week later, after we had returned home, I received the recurrent newsletter from the Touraine tourist board. One of the upcoming events for the month of June was … a ‘Concours de cors de chasse’ - a competition for hunting horn players, in the grounds of Chenonceau! The man we had seen that day in the woods had probably been practicing his musical skills. Why was he there, all on his own, in the middle of nowhere? Be honest; you wouldn’t want your neighbour practicing his hunting horn playing skills in his backyard, would you?

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... and then, there was light

For the last two days, some serious repair work is being done on the roof of the  apartment building nextdoor. In fact, I even think they are putting in a brand-new roof!
I wonder whether it has anything to do with my damp problem?!

The big truck of the roof workers is parked in front of my apartment, blocking the view and the light. I don't mind, though as I'm out during the day. However, last night and for the last hour or so I've been 'enjoying' this view:

It's the text on the side of the roofer's truck!
Just drop me a line if you want a translation!

(Photo taken from my kitchen window.)

About half an hour ago the men started packing up their tools and ten minutes later the truck finally pulled out ... and then there was light again!

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Pistachio 'roast'

There was a time when I bought cooking magazines on a monthly and sometimes even weekly basis. After a couple of years, however, I noticed that the same recipes returned every year when the main ingredients were in season. After three or four years I therefore stopped buying them. When I moved into my current apartment ten years ago I filed them by date and season in the hall closet, where they filled up two one-meter shelves. Two years ago I realized that I never used them anymore, as it was so much easier to look up a recipe on the internet.

Last year in September I packed them up in several large boxes and gave them to my friend B’, whose son is a chef. I’ve never regretted my decision and have since then used the shelves to stock some pots and pans that I rarely use. However, last Saturday I went into our local librarian’s to buy a lottery ticket. Something I seldom do as I never seem to win anything.

Last weekend there was a big jackpot, though, and I decided to give lady luck another chance. Apparently a lot of people shared my idea and there was a long queue of men and women waiting to buy a lottery ticket. While I stood around awaiting my turn, I looked at some of the magazines that were on display. One of them, ‘Cuisine Actuelle, had a ‘Petits Prix’ special (Low budget recipes), which looked very interesting. I picked it up and quickly glanced through it. And this is how I came across this recipe.

The original recipe in 'Cuisine Actuelle'.

A delicious meal for just 3.30 euro per portion!

It looked very appetizing and easy to make. So I went to the supermarket and my friendly butcher to get the necessary ingredients. I slightly altered the ingredients as I’m not a big fan of onions in minced meat. And I also wanted to make a roast-like version instead of individual portions.

These are the ingredients I used (serves 4):

- 4 thin slices of Ganda ham (Ganda is the Belgian equivalent of Parma ham)*
- 4 thin escallops of turkey breast
- 1 large slice of braised ham
- 250 gr. of minced pork
- 15 gr. of roasted pistachio nuts
- 1 small egg*
- 1 large carrot
- butter and olive oil
- white pepper and salt

(*) my personal touch!

This is what you do:

Start by grinding the pistachio nuts. I used a small electric cutter to do this. Mix the pistachio powder with the minced pork, add some pepper, salt, and a small egg. At this stage you can also add a finely chopped onion.

Spread the slices of Ganda ham on a flat surface. Make sure they overlap. Carefully arrange the turkey escallops on the Ganda ham. Next comes the slice of braised ham. Take the minced meat mixture and spread it on the ham. Make sure to leave two centimetres around the edges, otherwise the meat will spill out when you roll the meat into a roast-shaped cylinder. Carefully tie up the cylinder and set aside.

Peel and cut the carrot in 1x1x1 cm pieces and melt the butter in a ‘Le Creuset’ type pot. Add a dash of olive oil to prevent the butter from burning.

Put the ‘roast’ in the pot and sear it on all sides. You can add some pepper and salt at this point, but personally I don’t think the recipe calls for salt as the Ganda ham is quite salty. When the meat is seared, turn down the heat and put the diced carrot in the pot with the meat. Put the lit on the pot and let the meat gently sizzle for about 35 to 40 minutes. Baste it regularly.

 

When the meat is ready, remove the cooking string and slice the ‘roast’ in 2 cm thick slices. Pour some baking juices and some carrot dices around and over the meat. The original recipe recommends serving this with a mash of sweet potatoes and celeriac. Sweet potatoes being hard to find in Belgium, I served some roasted potatoes and braised Belgian endives with it.
 
We thoroughly enjoyed this Sunday lunch, as the pistachios really give this dish an extra dimension. This exquisite meal definitely made up for the fact that lady luck once again ignored my lottery ticket!
 
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My new best friend

For those of you who are curious to know what happened on Friday; here’s a report, straight from the horse’s mouth!

Luc, the manager-expert from the leak detection company, arrived at 9.05 a.m., which I found reassuring, as I hate people who are systematically late! When he removed the screen that is hiding the worst damp stains, I was once again shocked by the sight of it. And so was he. However, there was some good news. When he measured the humidity level it actually turned out that the wall is … drying up nicely. Only a small area of about 15 cm from the ceiling down is still moderately wet. The brick which is showing where the plaster came off, however, is still soaking wet!

When I mentioned that the janitor was coming round at 10 a.m. with someone to do some temporary repairs on the roof, Luc immediately said that he wanted to meet the janitor and have a look on the roof himself. It was only 9.20 a.m. and we would have to wait for another 40 minutes for the others to arrive. I therefore offered Luc a seat and asked him whether he wanted a coffee or something else to drink. He declined. What were we going to talk about during the next 40 minutes? I’m not very good at making idle conversation, especially with people I hardly know.

My guest, however, didn’t seem to have the same problem and immediately came up with a question that kept us chatting for the next 40 minutes. “I see you have a nice piece of a plane’s engine there.” he said, referring to this:



I was only too happy (and proud) to tell him that is was a part of a jet engine that had been turned into an award which my father had received for the excellence of his work when he was working as a technical controller with Sabena. If you look carefully, you’ll see that it mentions: ‘Zero errors’! It turned out that Luc had been working with Sabena too, in the nineties, more than 10 years after my father had retired. So they never actually met, but as all former Sabena employees say, there was and still is – although the company went broke in Nov. 2001 – a special bond between ex-employees and their families.

Talking about airplanes automatically let to the subject of travel. I told Luc about my 1979 trip to Russia and he explained about his travels to Greece and Africa. In the end, it turned out that we both prefer travelling to France. He takes his wife and two daughters every year to the Ardeche, where they do a lot of walking. I told him about my passion for the Loire Valley, the friends I’ve made there and the gorgeous food and wine.

We had such a good time that we hardly saw the time pass. Little over ten, someone rang the doorbell. I expected it to be the janitor, but it was the guy who came to do the roof work. The janitor D. was late (as usual, ghrrrr!), the man said, but she had advised him to ring my doorbell to let him in. The ‘roofman’ came in to have a look at the damage too and both men discussed several possible causes. In the end they both went up to examine the roof. I stayed downstairs (I don’t like heights) on the lookout for D. She turned up 15 minutes later and immediately moved upstairs too.

By the time D. and Luc came down again and the ‘roofman’ was making some temporary repairs, I notice D. was calling Luc by his first name … something I never did, except in this blog. Guess what!? D. used to go to school with Luc’s sister and they have known each other since childhood! They hadn’t seen each other for over 20 years. I hope this ‘complicity’ will help to solve the problem!

What’s next? I’ve been instructed to ‘watch’ (once again) the ‘evolution’ now that some holes on the roof have been fixed. If it turns out that the stains become smaller, the origin may be the roof. This will result in a brand-new roof ‘asap’ and when the five owners of the apartments agree on a quote!

If there is no positive evolution, Luc recommends breaking out two bricks in the apartment upstairs to perform an endoscopy in the damaged wall. This proactive approach and our ‘Sabena’ background make Luc ‘my new best friend’*!

(*) Do you recognize this line? It's from a very famous late nineties film!

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Big day ahead

Two weeks ago I’ve met a manager-expert of the company that has already performed two leak detection attempts in my apartment. It was a per chance meeting during an open-house organized by my employer, featuring some of the companies we regularly do business with. I was strolling through the large income hall of our office building when suddenly I recognized the logo of the mentioned company. There were several experts there, explaining the different techniques that are used to find gas and water leaks. I approached one of them and asked if he could spare a minute. “Of course”, he said, “My name is Luc.”

When I explained my ‘case’ to him, he nodded: “You live in X, don’t you? I’ve seen your file.” he said as soon I had finished. Apparently my ‘case’ was well-known within his company. Moreover, several specialists had examined the reports of the technician who had performed the two leak detections, and nobody had been able to come up with a conclusive solution.

This cute house is currently for sale.
However, it's in very bad repair and I think it'll cost more
to do it up than to actually buy it.

We chatted a little longer and it turned out that Luc was living in Y, a village at a stone’s throw from my home. In the end he said: “Here’s my card. I’ll be abroad in the beginning of next week. But send me an e-mail on Wednesday to remind me to take this up again with Tom (the technician). I may even drop in at your apartment to have a look myself.” I thanked him and promised him to send the requested e-mail on Wednesday, Sept. 29th. Which I did.

Since then … nothing … until last night. At about quarter to seven my mobile phone ran. I didn’t recognize the number and wondered who it could be. It was Luc. “Will you be at home on Friday?” he enquired. I said that I would be in and we agreed for him to come round at 9 a.m. to examine some possibilities. He sounded rather optimistic about a way to find the cause of the leak. “I’m afraid your upstairs neighbour will not like it,” he added, “but I think it’s the only way to proceed if we want to have a chance of finding the origin of the problem.”

With this new initiative regarding the damp problem in my apartment in the morning and the delivery of my new laundry machine in the afternoon, tomorrow will be a big day! Of course, we won’t find the leak tomorrow, as there will be no actual technical intervention, but depending on what he sees Luc will make some recommendations for the janitor, who will then have to take them up with the tenant and the owner of the apartment upstairs. Let’s hope they will take them seriously and do what has to be done … even it means breaking up the floor … Keep your fingers crossed!

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Douce France ...

When I see a photo like this I always feel like singing:
"Douce France, Cher pays de mes vacances* ..."

June 2008: The road somewhere near Epernay.

(slightly blurry because of the dirty windshield of the car)

It's as if the road is opening its arms in a warm welcoming embrace, isn't it?

(*) The original lyrics of this famous song by Charles Trenet are here.

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Ruins, a Crow and a Fox

Since 1985 we’ve visited several regions north of the Loire Valley. In the late eighties and early nineties, our destination was mainly determined by the presence of a ‘character’ hotel with a gastronomic restaurant. This is how we developed a soft spot for a splendid hotel in the village of Fère-en-Tardenois, in the Aisne department. This village with slightly over 3.300 inhabitants is located between Paris and the Champagne capital of Reims, at less than 300 km from Brussels. The largest towns in the neighbourhood are Soissons and Château-Thierry.

The hotel,‘Le Château de Fère’, was one of the first ‘château-hôtel’ in France. It opened in 1956 and was built in the 19th century on the foundations of the outbuildings of the former 13th century castle. The ruins of the latter are without any doubt the best feature of the hotel (banner photo). They are all that’s left of an elegant castle that was built between 1206 and 1260 by Robert de Dreux, grandson of Louis VI, also known as Louis Le Gros (the Fat!), who was king of France from 1108 until his death in 1137.

What's left of the bridge of the Château de Fère-en-Tardenois.

In 1528, Louise de Savoye, mother of François I (yes, the same one who commissioned the construction of the Château de Chambord; you see, the link with the Loire Valley is omnipresent) donated the castle to Anne de Montmorency, who transformed and embellished it by adding the spectacular and extremely elegant covered bridge that gave access to the castle. Later the crown confiscated the castle and the grounds after its owner had been sentenced to death. In 1779 the castle was partly demolished and the furniture and materials were later sold to Louis-Philippe I of Orleans. What is left was confiscated by debt collectors and auctioned in Paris 1793.

We’ve spent several vacations in Fère-en-Tardenois, touring the surrounding countryside. On one of these occasions we visited the nearby town of Château-Thierry were the legendary 17th century French writer Jean de La Fontaine was born. You are probably familiar with his fables, or short instructive stories, in which he uses animals to portray human vices and shortcomings. The most famous fable is probably, ‘La Cigale et la Fourmie’ (The Cicada and the Ant). My favourite, however, is ‘Le Corbeau et le Renard (The Crow and the Fox).

Are you familiar with Jean de La Fontaine’s fables? And do you know what the morality of the ‘The Crow and the Fox’ is? Click on this link to find out!

Jean de La Fontaine's birth house in Château-Thierry is now a museum mainly showing the author's manuscripts and prints illustrating his fables.

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The Queen’s Stables

One of the things I like best about autumn is that it’s also the ‘game season’. By the end of September the first game birds and other ‘wild’ animals appear on the shelves in the supermarket and the menu cards of the restaurants.

My favourites are definitely the feathered creatures like pheasants and partridges. A fine Belgian classic is the ‘faisan Brabançonne’. It is named after Brabant, a province in the centre of Belgian. The star product of this region are the Belgian Endives, which were originally grown only in the triangle formed by the towns of Brussels, Leuven (to the east) and Mechelen (to the north). This region has the best soil in the world to grow Belgian endives. In the seventies farmers from northern France came to Brabant to buy the soil by cubic metres to mix it with their local soil, in order to grow endives that were just (actually nearly) as good as the original product.

A ‘faisan Brabançonne’ is pheasant with braised Belgian Endives. I’ll do a post on the recipe as soon as I can lay my hands on a nice specimen.

In the meantime let me tell you about a restaurant where, in the eighties, I had the best ‘faisan Brabançonne’ I’ve ever eaten in my life. It’s called ‘Les Ecuries de la Reine’ (the queen’s stables) and is located in the village of La Gleize, south of the famous Formula I racetrack of Spa-Francorchamps. Although the restaurant still exists, it has lost its rough rustic charm since it has changed hands.

In the past it was kept by a former gamekeeper who still had some connections in the trade. And by ‘connections’ I mean regular hunters as well as illegal poachers! The man had a big white moustache and wore dark glasses and a kaki military jumper. Under the counter of the bar of the restaurant he kept a large handgun. The upholstery of the stools by the bar was made of cow skin. And behind the bar, between the bottles of liquor stood and hung worn pieces of horse tackle. The back wall of the restaurant section was one large fireplace in which in autumn and winter a nice log fire was burning.

A nice wood fire burning in the 'Ecuries de la Reine'
sometime in the late eighties.
Not a good quality photo, I'm afraid, as it's a scan ...

The entire interior was made of bare bricks; the floor, the walls and the vaulted ceiling. The room was dimly lit and vaguely smelled of smoke and damp burning wood. The cutlery was very simple and rustic and very often you would find yourself drinking from a glass from which a bit was missing or which was cracked and worn. Eating in this restaurant really felt like going back in time.

In spite of its noble name, there was nothing royal about the ‘Queen’s stables’. In spite of the small deficiencies, which would be unacceptable nowadays – Gordon Ramsey would have a fit if he had seen this place - the restaurant was very cosy and the food was glorious. Especially the pheasant with braised Belgian endives and a spicy cream sauce! It was here, that I first drank a ‘Sancerre rouge’ from the Loire Valley. Until then I didn't even know that Sancerre also came in red!

Today the restaurant is kept by a young chef who, although he has maintained the original lay-out of the restaurant, has adapted it to modern standards. The other parts of the former farm building have been transformed into guest rooms. And from the look of it, business is booming. Which isn’t a complete surprise as the area around Spa is a very popular holiday and weekend destination.

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Don’t read this …

if you’re watching your figure !

The other day one of my readers in the US asked me about Belgian cakes. This was quite a tricky question… for two reasons. First of all because I don’t have a sweet tooth and therefore never pay much attention to what’s on offer at my local baker. Secondly, because I don’t like to cook desserts, simply because I don’t have the patience pastry baking requires.

So I sat down and thought for a while about what people all around me like to buy and eat. The first thing that sprang to mind was the ‘quatre quart’ cake. I’m not sure it’s of Belgian origin. ‘Quatre quart’ refers to ‘four quarts’: 250 gr. of flower, 250 gr. of butter, 250 gr. of sugar and 250 gr. of eggs. You simply mix the sugar with the egg yolks; add the sifted flower, the melted butter and the whisked egg whites. You pour everything in a baking tin and put it for 30 to 40 minutes in the oven. This should result in an airy sponge-like cake. It’ll keep for several days and you can eat it plain or spread some jelly or melted chocolate or even butter on it.

That’s about it, as far as cakes are concerned. However, we are a ‘tarte’ or pie eating nation. The most traditional one is probably the ‘tarte au riz’, rice pie!

Here’s the recipe. Mind you, I’ve never made it myself and probably never will, as I’m not a big fan myself. But a lot of people like it, so it must be good. The recipe comes from this book:



It’s the traditional and basic cookery book edited by the Christian women’s association and a traditional wedding present for the young bride in every Christian home.

You start by making the filling, using,

1 litre or milk

100 gr. of white rice

75 gr. of sugar

A little saffron

Bring the milk to a boil (tricky! as milk has a tendency to 'overcook' while you're not watching) and add the rice. Keep stirring with a wooden spoon (important) until the milk restarts to boil. Let it ‘swell’ for about 1 hour on a very low heat, until this rice is soft and tender. Add the saffron and the sugar and bring back to the boil. You can replace the saffron by cinnamon or even use both.

Make the dough for a ‘pâte brisée’. I know Walt from ‘Another American in France’ has a good recipe for this, so I suggest you check it out on his blog. Walt is a great pastry chef and I’m sure his recipe is much better than the one in my cooking book.

When your dough is ready, roll it out and put in a round baking tin. Pour the rice pudding on the dough. Mix an egg with half a spoon of sugar and brush this mixture over the rice. It’ll make your pie look nice and shiny. Bake the pie for 20 minutes in an oven which you’ve pre-heated to 180°C or until the rice pudding starts to caramelize. Dust some powder sugar over the top and let the pie cool down before serving it with a nice cup of strong coffee.

In order to illustrate this post, I bought these at my local baker this morning. From left to right: a ‘carré confiture’ (puff pastry with a jam filling), a ‘tarte au riz’ (individual portion) and a chocolate ‘éclair’ with an egg custard filling and a black chocolate topping.

I hope I can convince my mother to eat at least two of these … I think I’ll eat the ‘éclair’ myself. Or maybe I can send it to one of you. Anyone interested?

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