ingredients: February 2008 Archives

Last night Barnaby had a great time in Zakopane drinking 'apple pies' with Anna and Matt's friends Richard and Marzena.  Richard makes a mean cocktail using just Żubrówka, the famous Polish vodka flavoured with bison grass, and apple juice.  Its innocent taste is remarkably like a delicious apple pie, buttery pastry and all.  Today Barnaby is a bear a little worse for wear.  (Although he looks better than Matt and Anna.)

Read recipe here.

I'd known the Czechs liked their beer, but I'd had no idea they were so good at making wine.  Until we happened to visit Kroměříž, an unpronouncable old market town in southern Moravia, Czech Republic.  In the centre of town there is a huge archbishop's palace, complete with peacocks in the gardens and hundreds of barrels of aging wine in the cellars.  It turned out they'd been making and storing wine here for 800 years, and it tasted pretty fantastic too.  In fact we're drinking a bottle of their rulandské šedé right now.

Today Barnaby went to see the Eggenberg brewery in Český Krumlov, where the Czech brewers have been producing beer according to their own secret recipe since 1560!

There was quite a lot to see and do, so at the end he treated himself to a large dark organic beer. Tasty.

The Czechs certainly like their beer - in fact, they drink more of it than anyone else. One of the world's best-known beer styles, pilsner, is named after the Czech town of Plzeň; and the name of one of the most famous brands (deservedly or not) derives from the brewing centre of České Budějovice (or as the Germans call it, Budweis).

They've also been brewing it for a very long time.  In Český Krumlov, they've been brewing since at least the 1300s, with records showing they were granted a charter to brew and sell beer in 1336.  And at the Eggenberg brewery, they still make beer the same way - local organic ingredients, secret recipe and all - producing a rich, tasty, slightly yeasty brew known for its dramatic effects on the youthful appearance of the local womenfolk and on the digestive systems of tourists.

Today Barnaby was so intoxicated by Gaby Demoulin's alambic au feu de bois (wood-fired still) and vast array of eaux de vie and liqueurs (including raspberry, gentian, quince, bay and laurel), that he nearly stayed at Ferme La Fonderie.  The fruits go through a double distillation process, and finally end up in beautiful bottles on sale at the farm shop.

When we knocked on the heavy wooden door at Domaine Weinbach we weren't sure we were in the right place.  Having had it recommended to us by our friend Jono at Chez Panisse in Berkeley (who knows a thing or two about wine), we were confident their wines would be good, but only if we could find them... 

Having driven up and down the picturesque little Alsatian valley at least four times, we finally decided to pull into the winery despite the enormous 'Domaine Faller' sign and the distinct lack of inviting 'tastings' signs for tourists like us which are displayed prominently at so many other wineries.  And when Colette Faller peered round her front door at us, she didn't look sure we were in the right place either.

Today Barnaby met Dany Roess at his farm in Soultzeren in Alsace and learnt how to make proper Munster cheese. As bears don't eat Munster he ended up buying a whole Tomme des Vosges instead. Yum.

Anna and Matt preferred the Munster, which is the local AOC washed-rind cheese and is fantastic on its own or in lots of local recipes. Tomme isn't as old and traditional around here as Munster (Dany says they started making it 15-20 years ago), and isn't regulated to the same extent (you can put any herbs you want in it, including delicious wild garlic). But Barnaby liked it all the same.

It's not easy being an Alsatian cheesemaker.  Yes, you get to live in a beautiful valley in the foothills of the Vosges mountains.  And yes, you get to produce the traditional Munster Fermier, one of France's tastiest (and smelliest) cheeses.

But tradition brings rules, regulations and responsibilities as well as tastiness (and smell) - not to mention expense.  And it's not easy to make a living from cheese alone anyway.

We stayed with Chantal and Dany Roess at their farm in Soultzeren, where they make Munster (amongst other things), and they told us all about what they do, how they do it, and how they see their role as upholders of the traditions of cheese.

This week, while the US government was recalling the largest ever amount of commercial beef (apparently, cows from the Westland/Hallmark Meat Co so sick they couldn't walk properly have still been ending up in diners' Happy Meals), we were playing with Farmer Cornet's very happy baby cows on his farm in Viviers-sur-Artaut.  

One of his cows had just given birth to twins, one of whom Michel was bottle-feeding twice a day himself as the mother would only feed one.  (Nature can be cruel too, let's not forget.)  The twins were having some trouble using their legs, but then they were only 5 days old.  All their older relatives were walking around happy as can be, probably because Michel gives care and attention to each and every one.

Barnaby could hardly control his excitement when he saw the delicious pile of boudin noir freshly made by his hosts Michel and Francine Cornet at their farmhouse in Champagne. There was three times this much from one pig! (whose name was Gui-Gui, to give him full credit)

Today Barnaby bought a so-called 'artisan' baguette from a Paris boulangerie, but thought that although it looked quite nice, it tasted as if it was made from a packet. He should have come with us to Poilâne.

Today Barnaby has been chatting with the locals while waiting his turn to buy vegetables in the Place d'Anvers market. The best stall with the nicest-looking most local produce has the biggest queue, but it's worth the wait.

The lemon seems to be such a common, and essential, fruit, that you'd imagine it had been around since the beginning of time.  Not so.  The original three citrus plants, from which all others have been bred, are the citron, the mandarin and the pummelo.  The lemon is probably a multi-step hybrid, involving the citron, the lime and the pummelo.  Lemons arrived in Europe 1500-2000 years ago, having originated in what is now Pakistan and India, and coming via the Middle East.