Information about the book
Introduction
After the several whirlwind months that ensued after The Little Paris Kitchen book and TV show, life seemed to go back to normal. I was still living in the same apartment with my kitchenette composed of two gas rings and a mini oven, still no dishwasher in sight. Little had changed, I did my grocery shopping at the same fruit and veg guy, visited the same baker, traipsed to my butcher. Aside from my cheese lady’s persistent jokey questioning, ‘Where are the cameras?’ each time I picked up a hunk of fruity comte, life went on in my little kitchen as before. But I could feel a growing rumble in my stomach and it wasn’t because I was craving a piece of French cheese and crusty baguette, my all-time favourite snack.
Just like when I moved from London to Paris eight years ago, I realised I had a yearning for new tastes and discoveries. I still loved Paris (I always will), but I felt I wanted to charter unknown territories in the country I had called home for almost a decade. It was time for me to pack my cooking kit and discover what lay beyond the 20 arrondisements (districts) of Paris.
Deciding where to go was easier said than done. France is as rich and dense as my chocolate beret cake (recipe p.xx) when it comes to culinary culture and history. My friends would ask ‘How are you going to visit the whole of France and write about all the food?’ ‘Ce n’est pas possible!’ (It’s not possible.) Most of them thought I had bitten off more than I could chew, and I can chew a lot! France has a gastronomic wealth that has been documented painstakingly by many other Francophile chefs and food writers throughout the centuries, from Marie-Antoine Carême and Escoffier to Elizabeth David and Jane Grigson.
This book took me on an adventure around France. Train, plane, bus, car, bike and, at one point, even a mini bus! Up winding roads and down dirt tracks through howling wind, rain comme les vaches pissent (‘rain like cows peeing’ as the French say), snow, hail... you name it, I braved every kind of weather. I was a woman on a mission to discover the recipes made by regional French grandmas (and now long forgotten and stuffed in a back drawer), but not just the old recipes. I was interested to see what France looked like today. How was the younger generation eating? Paris, being the capital, is the mecca for new concepts but I was impressed to see that a new movement of young food producers was also to be found outside of France, combining old traditions with their new ideas.
France’s artisanal food scene, like any other country in the Western World, is fighting against the big food corporations. Even though France has always prided itself in its traditions of artisanal food products it is still having a tough time. Visiting producers, farmers and local shops it was evident that all is not as rosy as one might think. There were battles against environmental changes and government regulations, combined with the concern that there is no new generation to take over roles and the rise in production costs. But despite all these factors, the passion and hard work that went into creating a product they can sell with pride, shone brightly through the fog of challenges.
After each of my ‘voyages’ I would return with my suitcase laden with random bits and bobs I had picked up, from edible souvenirs like special dried herbs and lavender honey, to cheese paper wrappers or the odd funny looking spoon. With the help of my trusty gas ring burner and mini oven, I turned these tasty trinkets into meals I shared with friends and family. Each meal told the story of my edible explorations, along with the complexities and quirks of each region’s food culture.
From the elegant chateaux to rickety, but utterly charming, oyster shacks in the Bordeaux region, to the Christmas sparkle and spice of the Alsacian markets, from the giant blue lobsters of Brittany and iconic lighthouses which dot the coast, to the almighty Lyon in the valley of the Alpes with its snow capped mountains and warming dishes, from the bright colours of the Provenҫal vegetable dishes that radiate the summer heat to the surfers’ paradise, fiery espelette pepper and Basque kisses (recipe p.xx) of Biarritz. This is My Little French Kitchen.
And so this book is not about the whole of France – a multi-volumed epic couldn’t hope to do that – but about the trips I made around French villages and towns, the people who welcomed me into their homes, farms and food shops and all the little culinary quirks that I stumbled upon. Each recipe is a postcard from my little kitchen to yours; savouring the flavours, smells and textures that inspired each recipe, and I hope will inspire you too. Bon voyage; I hope you enjoy the trip!
