Cru de Beaujolais

Hi Dad, Last month while in Chicago you poured us a very flavorful Morgon that I quite enjoyed.You mentioned it was a "cru du Beaujolais".I'm familair with regular Beaujolais especially Beaujolais nouveau, but not with Cru du Beaujolais. On our vacation in Cape Cod last week I found a couple bottles of Cru du Beaujolais and it went over well with our friends. What does this appelation cover? What are you favorites? Which one can you find in an American wine store?What food pairing you recommend? We had it with a nice light pasta and it seemed to pair well. Thanks for the intoduction to this delightful appelation! Stephane

JULIE and JULIA

JULIE and JULIA: A nice but very frustrating little film Where is the (French) meat?

Stéphane, 2 days ago you asked me over the phone if I had seen Julie and Julia. I have to admit that I did not want to see this film, for several reasons: I was afraid that it would be focusing too much on another of those Streep vocal circus numbers. I was not that excited about the idea of watching another Hollywood fantasy about an American in Paris. From what I read there would be too much time devoted to Julie’s agenda, solo gig, her own and her husband’s frustrations, and not enough to the ascent of Mrs. Child as a culinary expert and to her extraordinary free-thinking and “modern” personality. After all, in the repressive times of the fifties in the U.S, she was a breath of fresh air and a real free spirit. No wonder she loved Paris so much. And last but not least, I have never been that impressed by the talents of Nora Ephron as a film director.

But Yesterday, when we had a very a muggy 93 degrees day in Chicago, It was too hot in our small kitchen to cook the ratatouille that I had planned to do with the vegetables I had bought the day before at the farmer’s market in Evanston. So the alternative was to go see a movie. But our personal choices were limited to 2 bleak films, an Austrian ‘noir”, Revanche, that both previews and reviews encouraged us to see, and a tense war drama from the very talented Kathryn Bigelow, The Hurt Locker. So, since we felt like seeing something lighter, we thought: Why not Julia after all. At least it will be interesting to see how they reconstituted the Paris of the late forties early fifties, and there surely will be some fine food buying and cooking scenes to watch. And as you know your mother has been a Julia’s faithful follower since the early seventies. How many times when we ask ourselves a technical question about something we are in the mood of preparing she still announces "let see what Julia says about it" and goes to the pantry to retrieve our very tired and stained “Mastering the Art of French Cooking" And, as a blogger, food and wine consultant, and person who loves to cook, I was personally intrigued by the treatment of this story.  

The result: The film was better than we expected and we sort of enjoyed it as it is: a very traditional piece of Hollywood entertainment. But unfortunately it also had a lot of holes, superficialities, and, above all, unbalances in the script, the editing, and the actors directing, that it sometimes made some sequences almost boring or just too loose-ended to be fully enjoyed.
 
On the plus side: The concept of creating a parallel montage between the personal lives and the cooking experiences of Julia Child and the young blogger Julie Powell works after all in a bit more successful way than I thought it would be. We managed to progressively get used to, and from time to time interested in, the very deep differences between these two couples, the personal motivations and objectives of the two women, the support or exasperations of their respective husbands and friends, and their very different integration in their social or professional environments. The cinematography is very pleasant and astute, particularly in managing to “expand” the physical aspect of Streep. The casting of the four main actors is also quite acceptable: Stanley Tucci provides a very complex and subtle personalization of Paul Child. To me his performance is the most impressive of the whole cast. And the image that he helps projecting of their couple is quite realistic. We believe in them. The light musical score by French Oscar-winner Alexandre Desplat is a perfect fit for re-creating the mood of Hollywood films taking place in Paris in the post WWII and early fifties period. The sets and costumes are, once again, good replicas of those seen and worn in the movies of that time frame. Meryl Streep performance is one of her best in recent years: pretty restrained, expressive and often touching, especially in the scene when she learns about her sister’s having a baby. Sometimes it is on the verge, but not falling into, of becoming a bit too cartoonesque. But we manage to often forget about the fact that she plays and almost accept her as Julia. And Julia’s enthusiastic persona is very nicely projected.

On the minus side: Many of the scenes between Julie and her husband are overstretched and too conventional. The sequences where she writes her blog on her computer are way too long. We wait impatiently for Julia and Paul to return, only to be often disappointed by the shortness of substance in their dialogs. There is really an unbalance in the cutting and editing of their scenes. An other factor contributing to this impression of unbalance: Even though Amy Adams is a quite charming and competent actress, and Chris Messina does a more than an adequate job as her frustrated husband, they cannot stand the comparison in terms of “on screen quality level of presence”, with a couple of old pros like Streep and Tucci. Besides the “mise en scene” (cinematic directing, camera movements, etc.) is much more elaborate in the case of the two stars. The scenes in Julie’s apartment and at her office are shot in quite a pedestrian lazy way. I was very frustrated by the minimal approach to food scenes. There are practically no sequences were you can actually feel that any actual cooking, tasting, or eating is taking place. It is quite obvious that the two actresses are not cooking themselves. And their respective ways of shopping are quite unrealistic. By the way, I wondered all the time where Julie secured the funds necessary to buy all those, sometimes very costly, food ingredients, and cooking ustensils, considering the obviously modest financial status of her household. The scenes taking place in Parisian restaurants (very probably shot entirely in studio in the U.S., since I did not notice any mention of a Parisian eatery in the credits) look and sound phony. Even the waiters do not act or speak in an authentic fashion. The French fish mongers, bakers, and butchers even less. I was particularly horrified by the depressing look of that poor "sole meuniere", (that Julia Child tasted for the first time after her arival in France, in a restaurant in Rouen, and which would become her epiphany) presented to her, whole in the pan, by a waiter. Instead of the delicate "beurre noisette" and a few specks of fresh parsley and a slice of lemon that should have been covering that delicate Dover sole, I was under the impression that the butter that surrounded that fish had been burned to a point of no return.
The food consultants must have been taking a nap at the time this scene was shot. I would have loved to have a complete sequence devoted to Julia preparing a whole dinner for her husband and to watch them at the table enjoy and discuss the whole thing. At one point when the 3 gourmandes (Child, Beck and Bertholle) have lunch on the terrace of a Parisian bistro, I thought for a split second that the front of that bistro looked like Astier’s in the 11th arrondissement, but I’m not sure. Anyway, Astier does not have any terrace. Only the boeuf bourguignon looked authentically French. But Amy Adams keeps calling it “bouff bourguignonn’’. Also I cannot believe that there were so few scenes shot in real Paris locations.

But I had a nostalgic smile on my face (in the dark) when I saw the entrance of the house where the Childs move in when they arrive in Paris: 10 rue de Seine, in the 6th arrondissement, is just a few numbers down from were we lived in that street until we moved to Chicago, and where you spent the first months of your existence Stéphane. And later on, there is a long shot of the windows of the apartment, Quai aux Fleurs in the Ile de La Cite, where I rented a room when I was a student at la Sorbonne in 1963. I found it totally ridiculous to have not cast any French actors or actresses in some of the supporting roles. This is particularly crucial for the part of Simone Beck, aka Simca. Linda Emond is a fine stage actress, but I had a very hard time accepting her, and her phony accent, as being Simone Beck. But my biggest objection is to the over-simplification in describing Julia’s personality and relation with others. This portrait lacks psychological and socio-cultural complexity. But is the film supposed to include the portrait of a hyper-dimensioned star and human being or just a sort of gimmicky montage of the separate and not even parallel itineraries of two women, who just find “something to do with their lives”, and in so doing attained celebrity status. That is the question I often asked myself. To capsulate my impressions of this movie: I think that it is an entertaining little film that would have required a tighter script, the “savoir-faire” and always very efficient directing talent of a Stanley Donen, or a Blake Edwards, and a larger budget to film more scenes on location in Paris, to have a chance to reach greatness.

Brandade de Morue de Nîmes

The real Brandade de Morue à la Nîmoise : A very special treat.

When I was in my teens, in Reims the capital of the Champagne producing district, my father often said at the end of a good meal when everybody was thanking my mother for another of her culinary accomplishments:

“ La morue à la brandade, le gigot et la salade, tout était bien chez l’ami du cousin Barthélémy’’. This sentence, that he would pronounce slowly, was a quote of a phrase that one of his older parishioners when he was the Protestant (Calvinist) minister of our little town of Saint-Hippolyte-du- Fort, near Nîmes, had used several times to describe to my father a very good meal he had at a friend of his cousin’s house. Its translation is: ‘’the cod prepared in the style of a brandade, the roasted leg of lamb, and the salad, everything was fine at the house of the friend of my cousin Barthelemy’’

I do not know why this sentence was stuck in my father’s memory, but I would invariably ask my mother why we never had ‘’brandade de morue’’ at home.

I do not remember the answer, but I would be ready to guess that my mother, a Swiss from Geneva, was not a big fan of salted dried cod fish, and that this dish never entered her vast cooking repertory, even after 10 years spent before and during WWII in Saint- Hippolyte.

When we left Saint-Hippolyte in 1947 to move to Reims, I was barely 7 at the time. And in those days, when we had been deprived of most regular food necessities since 1942, I do not think that this fish specialty was easily found in our town.

So, I cannot remember having ever tasted that dish in Saint-Hippolyte, a town located only 35 miles from Nîmes where it is still the only really local culinary specialty of that old Languedocian city. And believe me, you would never find an ounce of brandade in a Northeastern city like Reims. As a matter of fact, until the late 70s, it would have been very improbable to find any brandade in a restaurant outside the areas of Nîmes and Marseille.

It took me 19 years before I could taste my first brandade in Nîmes

So I had totally forgotten the brandade when I moved back, alone without my family for the first time, to my native town of Nîmes in 1959, to get my baccalaureate degree there.

To secure room and board and make some money while studying there I was hired by a small private boarding pension to take care of young middle-school and high-school age boys from villages outside Nîmes who would live, eat lunch and dinner, and do their home work at night there during the week.

And what was served for lunch the first day I was there? You guessed it: Brandade de morue. I do not remember if it was home-made by the pension’s cook, or if it was one of the two locally-made commercial brands, whose names were Mouton and Raymond Geoffroy,

but I remember that I found that dish totally revolting, both in terms of structure, gooey and fibrous, and of taste, very fishy and oily.

I promised myself never to touch that stuff again.

I changed my mind several years later in the 70s when I was now living in Chicago and traveled to France often on business. With my best friend, who is also from Nîmes, we would regularly drive there from Paris to attend bullfights, and spend the week-end in his country house in a village near Saint-Hippolyte, called Lasalle. But once I flew to Nîmes on business, and was invited for lunch at a restaurant called Le Magister. The chef-owner, Martial Hocquart, whom I believe still cooks there, was not from that area, but he managed to produce an authentic Brandade de Nîmes, that was a pure delight: Light, very aromatic, unctuous but perfectly balanced. I became a fan of the real brandade and I still love it today when it is well prepared with good ingredients. 

Nowadays, you find brandade in many good Parisian restaurants, as well as in several good eateries in Chicago. It is offered in several variations, but never according to the original and authentic recipe from Nîmes.

In Paris: I used to like the brandade at:

La Bastide Odeon, Rue Corneille in the 6^th,

Le Bistrot de l’Olivier Rue Quentin Beauchart in the 8^th.

But I have to admit that I did not visit any of these restaurants for quite a long time

In Chicago I would suggest:

Le Bouchon at 1958 N. Damen (very close to what it should be)

Bistro Campagne 4518 N. Lincoln (they serve it in the form of “croquettes”)

Mado at 1647 N. Milwaukee

Avec at 615 W. Randolph

Now, let’s talk a bit about the origins of La Brandade de Morue à la Nîmoise.

Just for the fun of it, I would say that this old and beautiful city, located 706 kilometers South of Paris, 123 Km North of Marseille, and only 42 km North of the medieval city of Aigues-Mortes on the Mediterranean sea, is known for two other things, besides brandade: Its famous Roman arena in the shape of a round amphitheatre, where some of the best bullfighting festivals in Southern Europe take place between May and late September, and the famous Denim fabric, that was invented there under the name of "serge de Nîmes" in the 18^th century. It was eventually colored in that well-known blue indigo color. But Denim means ‘’De Nimes’’ (from Nîmes).

The big question is: How did cod, a fish that has been for centuries caught in the cold waters of the North Sea and around Newfoundland, close to the Eastern coast of Canada, mostly from boats anchored in Normandy and Brittany’s ports, found its way to the Southern city of Nîmes, that is not even a port on the Mediterranean Sea?.

The reason is purely commercial and logical. In the 18^th century, there was no refrigeration or freezing equipment on fishing boats. The French fishermen who left on fishing expeditions for several days in the North sea, or sometimes weeks when they were sailing as far as to the North Atlantic fishing grounds of Iceland or Terre Neuve (Newfoundland) needed a way to preserve the ‘’morue’’ (cod) they caught. Fresh cod is also called ‘’cabillaud’’ and it has never been found in the Mediterranean Sea.

The only way they knew was to completely cover the fish with salt.

In those days the best source of salt was the ‘’salines’’ (salt works) from the Provençal coast of the Mediterranean Sea, and more particularly the Camargue area and Aigues-Mortes, a port city totally surrounded by tall walls and ramparts, from were the crusades departed in the 13^th century.

The fishermen would bring salted cod as payment, in a bartering system, for the tons of salt that they brought back in large bags to their Northern ports like Saint-Malo or Boulogne.

That is how that salted fish became, once desalted and cooked, a very common food on the tables of the department du Gard where Nîmes and Aigues-Mortes are located, as well as cities like Uzes and Alès. Over the years it became a very convenient, cheap and easy way to keep, source of protein for poor people in rural areas not only of Languedoc, but also Auvergne, and the Southwest all the way to the Spanish border, who could not afford to buy meat or pork belly.

It is precisely the cook for the archbishop of Alès, Charles Durand, born in that city in the Cévennes in 1766, who was the first to have the idea of blending desalted cooked cod with other major ingredients of Mediterranean cuisine like olive oil, thyme, laurel, and garlic, to make a paste that was continuously stirred with a wooden spoon during the whole process. The verb ‘’brandar’’ in the old Occitan or Provençal language means to stir or to vigorously shake or agitate. The result is a ‘’brandado’’ a product that has been stirred or shake.

The ‘’brandade’’ was born. 

As I said earlier, there are many versions of that dish, especially since it has been adapted by chefs with various backgrounds all over the world.

Nowadays, most traditional brandades are a mix of cod, milk or fresh heavy cream, olive oil, boiled mashed potatoes, garlic, salt, white pepper, nutmeg, and sometimes a bit of lemon juice.

Most often it is served with slices of baguette bread pan-fried in olive oil, sometimes rubbed with garlic. It is in fact the Marseillaise version of the dish that is found all over Provence.

Brandade started to be a very popular in Paris after 1830. Even more when the well-known writer Alphonse Daudet (Les Lettres de Mon Moulin) started a very popular “Diner des amis de la brandade” (brandade lovers dinner) at the Café Voltaire in 1894. Daudet suggested that cooks rubbed some garlic in the cooking pot rather than incorporating it in the preparation itself as it was done in Provence.

Soon la brandade nîmoise became a very common dish all over the Languedoc on Fridays. But even at the time of the French revolution in 1789, it is said that Parisian foodies would go to a restaurant called ‘’ Les 3 frères Provençaux’’ to eat the real brandade de Nîmes. So maybe it was already a regional specialty even before Durand.

Anyway, it seems that it is the Chef Durand who launched the commercial success of the brandade nîmoise that was made according to his own recipe and sold in jars or closed pots. 

Brandade de morue is now very popular in many bistros and home kitchens all over France.

• It can be covered with breadcrumbs and some cheese and finished to look like a “gratin” in the oven for a few minutes.
• It can be stuffed in red or yellow peppers, or mushrooms.
• It is delicious in mini-tartlets as an amuse-bouche.
• Some people add a touch of sophistication by serving it warm with thin slices of truffles.
• Others mix the cod with halibut, sole, or even lobster and add an egg yolk for a richer texture and taste
• In Languedoc it is often garnished with black olives and ‘’croutons à l’ail’’and accompanied by a salad of ‘’frisée’’ dressed with a good olive oil and sometimes pinch of crushed garlic.

You also now find frozen brandade in ‘’magasins de surgelés`’ (stores specializing in all kindsof frozen foods). One of them, brandade parmentier, is a very popular item at Picard Surgelés. But personally I would not touch it with a 10 foot pole.

And of course you can buy Brandade de Nîmes RAYMOND, from RAYMOND GEOFFROY, a company started in Nîmes in 1879, in containers from 100 grams to 1 and 5 Kilos. It will be closer to the authentic original product that any frozen stuff.

All of this can be delicious and creative but it is not at all the authentic Brandade de Nîmes, that does not contain any garlic or potatoes. And remember that Nîmes is not in located in Provence but in Languedoc.

Here is the way an authentic Brandade de Nîmes should be prepared:

First you have to find good quality dried salt cod, what we sometimes call stockfish in Europe. The best is sold in wooden boxes. The ideal is to buy about 2 pounds if you want to prepare brandade for 4 persons.

The best piece would be close to the head of the fish since it is meatier. Cut it in 2 or three parts.

1. Desalt the fish for at least 24 hours by getting rid of as much salt as you can from the surface and then putting it in a pot, skin up, containing cold water and change that water at least 4 times. When its over, rinse the cod in cold water and drain it.
2. Poach the fish in cold water where you add 1 bay leaf and 2 sprigs of thyme. But this addition of aromatic herbs is optional.

Put the heat on and poach the cod very gently until the water starts to simmer. 8 to 10 minutes. 

The cod should NEVER boil.

3. Drain and put the fish on a board. Delicately remove the bones and the skin rapidly before the fish gets cold so that it does not get gelatinous or look like glue. In Nimes originally some cooks kept the skin on because it would increase the taste and the texture. Then coarsely flake the whole thing and keep it at lukewarm temperature in a pot in a corner of the stove.
4. In the meantime you will have warmed in two separate little sauce pans some very good extra-virgin olive oil (just about 1 and 1/4 cup) and about I cup of whole milk. Make sure the oil is lukewarm, not hot, and to remove the "skin: of the milk that should be warm but not hot either.
5. Put the pot containing the cod on very low heat and add a spoonful of olive oil to the pot and, using a wooden spoon, stir it into the cod and crush the pieces of cod again the walls of the pot, then add a spoonful of milk and stir. Continue the process for 12 to 15 minutes by alternating spoonfuls of olive oil and milk until none is left in the saucepans. Never stop stirring. When the mixture is reaching a creamy consistency, add some salt and freshly ground white pepper. Add a pinch of freshly ground nutmeg, and a few squeezes of lemon juice. Make sure there are no lumps in the brandade.
6. Stir again and serve the lukewarm brandade in the shape of truncated flat cone on a plate. Place a couple of black olives on top to decorate. Surround the mound with slices of French bread cut in triangles, lightly fried in olive oil and rubbed with garlic.

That’s it. No potatoes, no garlic in the brandade proper. Just the sweet taste of mild cod puree emulsified in good extra-virgin French olive oil.

• If you want to make a modern version, follow the same instructions up to stage 4.

Then in the bowl of a food processor put 2 or 3 cloves of garlic and puree them, then add 4 warm large boiled potatoes and the cod and puree them, while slowly incorporating alternatively your warm olive oil and your warm milk through the funnel of the food processor until both are totally absorbed. Season with the same ingredients as above and make sure that the brandade that you obtained is smooth, not liquid, and not too thick, and without any lumps.

Serve with a slightly cool wine like Costières de Nimes rosé, Tavel, or a white Bandol.

Bon appétit.

Alain

Provencal Lamb Stew and Camembert

Provencal Lamb Stew, a new French Camembert, and a flavorful Vin de Pays de la Principauté d’Orange. 

 A comforting Sunday night dinner in rainy and depressing early May in Chicago 
  Hey Stéphane, hope everything is going well as far as barbecuing in your backyard in MountainView is concerned, and that you can still find that delicious locally fished fresh salmon steaks at your beautiful farmer’s market before once again a temporary ban may be imposed on that kind of catch off the coast of Northern California . Here in Chicago it is still rather grey and cold for the season with lots of powerful showers. I wonder what we will be able to find at the first farmer’s market in Evanston next week-end because I suspect that these deluges of rains that we have been exposed to since early April did not allow a normal spring planting process. Anyway I’m dreaming of sunny days in Southern France, and as it is the case every year, in early May, when the first leaves start to grow in a more assertive way on the sycamores facing our dining-room windows which look a bit like the platanes (plane trees) of my youth, I get a serious case of nostalgia. There is no “muguet” (lilly of the valley, the flower traditionally sold in the streets of Paris on May 1) growing in the park in front of our building, but my nostalgia nevertheless often focuses on our May Day (Labor Day in France) rustic and very proletarian picnics or lunches in Reims and Paris in the fifties and sixties where saucisson, pâté, camembert, œufs durs mayonnaise (hard-boiled eggs with mayonnaise), baguette, and Beaujolais or Côtes du Rhône red wine were generating many moment of pure and simple pleasure. You could read my piece on the Chicago origins of May Day celebration published last year on this blog to get a refresher course on what these Premier Mai celebrations in France were all about, especially regarding the food aspect of them. The other dining nostalgia I develop in early May deals with more elaborate lunches around Easter that always included some delicious spring lamb based dishes that we enjoyed in small restaurants in Aix-en-Provence or Avignon when I lived there. That is why at this time of the year I always love to prepare a simple Sunday lunch or dinner that reminds me of these happy days in Provence or in Paris and includes at least 5 major components that bring some sun to my heart: Some charcuterie as an appetizer, a good salad made of Boston lettuce, Dijon mustard vinaigrette, with chives (or crushed fresh garlic), a small leg of lamb (the shank part), or small loin lamb chops grilled with herbes de Provence. It could also be a more rustic lamb stew with tomatoes and olives. To finish the meal I need a good Camembert and a piece of good quality Roquefort, and for dessert a Tarte à la Frangipane (almond tart). As you know I am not a pastry specialist. So I let your mother be in charge of that marvelous provençal dessert which is one of her many specialties.

Hors d’œuvre: Pâté de campagne et saucisson sec 
  So this year we started our May 3 Sunday dinner with some “Pâté de campagne au Champagne” from Marcel & Henry , the French charcutiers from South San Francisco, a very peppery, strongly seasoned, very flavorful and very authentic-tasting pork pâté that they sell in individually wrapped thick slices at Fox and Obel for around $ 6.25. And some saucisson sec (dry pork sausage) from independent producer John Volpi in St, Louis (no connection with the better known and more commercial other Volpi). Since I cannot find in Chicago the delicious French Saucisson Sec from Fabrique Délices in Hayward, CA that we buy at your farmer’s market, I found that cheap but very tasty Italian-style and additives-free hard salami made with Chianti to be a perfectly edible alternative treat to French saucisson. It is sold at Trader Joe’s for $ 3.99 for the whole sausage. Of course this first course was accompanied by the traditional garnish of French ‘’cornichons’’ and pickled tiny onions, as well as authentic Dijon mustard, once again all from Trader Joe’s. The baguette is a crusty and well made affair from the very expert baker of Fox& Obel at a relatively acceptable price of $ 2.75.

Plat principal (Main entrée): Lamb.

But, why is American spring lamb so different from its French cousin? The problem that I find every year is with the quality of the so called ‘’spring lamb`’ that I can purchase in Chicago. In France ‘’Easter lamb’’, as it is sometimes called, either in the form of chops or leg, is very small, with a very delicate flavor, and the color of the meat is a light pink. It is practically impossible nowadays, or if you place a special order for it at your butcher it will cost you a fortune, to find authentic baby milk-fed lamb. That is a real delicacy. The baby lamb in this case is usually 4 to 6 weeks old when it is slaughtered and has not been weaned from his mother’s milk. Its meat’s color is almost white. Over here some very good Greek restaurants might offer it occasionally round Easter and it is spit-roasted. Baby lamb’s weight is around 20 pounds. In France a real spring lamb has usually been slaughtered between 70 days and 5 months after his birth. The meat’s color is a light pink and its taste is quite delicate. Not at all muttony as it is the case sometimes with so called “spring lamb” sold in some American supermarkets. A French spring lamb grew on grass exclusively. It never weighs more than 50 or 55 pounds. You usually find it in good butcher shops between February and June. French ‘’regular’’ lamb is most often 6 to 9 month old. You find it in retail points of sale between September and January. A whole animal is normally not heavier than 70 pounds and the color of its meat is a light red. Its taste is a bit more assertive that spring lamb, but normally still very tender But in Chicago when I buy a small leg of lamb in April or May, it is quite large compared to its French counterpart, its meat has already a relatively dark red hue and is not as tender as it should be. Besides the texture, the taste of the meat, as well as the weight of the piece, lead me to think that this lamb might have been put in a feed-lot for several weeks after it left the pasture and fed some cereal-based industrial feed in order to boost its maturity and weight more rapidly, and of course increase its meat yield. 
In any case I have rarely found a light-colored small delicate-tasting spring leg of lamb in a shop here. Even though I buy good quality lamb produced by Chiappetti, a reputable family-owned Chicago veal and lamb packer and processor that owns its own growing sites somewhere in Colorado or the Rockies, I’m always frustrated by the rather disappointing results I obtain when I get the leg of lamb out of the oven and into my plate and eventually my mouth. It is never as tender and mild as it was with the “gigots” that we ate in France. My favorite lamb was the lamb from “Pré-salé’’ (salt marshes or meadows) from Picardy and Normandy, especially at the Mont-Saint Michel , 

the ‘’Agneau de Sisteron’’ from the area of Haute Provence near the Durance River, or Agneau des Pyrénées (from the mountains separating France and Spain).
 
Here is my way of doing a roasted half leg of lamb (shank part) with ratatouille 

 I usually insert a 3 or 4 slivers of fresh garlic in the meatiest parts of the leg and coat it completely with a creamy ‘’pomade’’ (paste) of Dijon mustard, Olive oil, and Thyme that I have slowly whisked to the point where it is heavily emulsified and transformed into a paste. The meat should be at room temperature. I cook the leg (shank part) on a steel rack in a Pyrex dish with a mix of water and white wine at the bottom in a pre-heated oven at 400 degrees for 20 minutes and then at 350 degrees for 80 more minutes in the case of a leg weighing between 3 and a half to 4 pounds. The meat internal temperature should be 135 degrees for medium-rare when you remove the leg from the oven. You should cover it with aluminum foil and let it rest for 15 to 20 minutes before carving. I usually do carve the leg in round slices around the bone.
I serve it with a home-made ‘’ratatouille’’ made of 1 large eggplant that has been cut in 1 inch cubes that you let drain its acrid liquid and some seeds with coarse sea salt in a colander for 20 minutes, 4 sliced unpeeled zucchinis, 4 chopped seeded and peeled fresh tomatoes, slices of 3 yellow medium onions, 4 sprigs of dried thyme, 2 bay leaves, 4 chopped cloves of fresh garlic, and about 6 Tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil. I sauté all ingredients separately in olive oil, before mixing them in a Le Creuset ‘’cocotte’’. Then I season with salt and pepper from the mill, and simmer the whole thing covered slowly at low heat for 35 to 40 minutes and then reduce the juice for 15 minutes with the lid off.
But on May 3, the leg of lamb in the meat dept. of my supermarket was too red and fat for my taste, So I decided to cook one my favorite Provençal lamb dishes: 

Lamb stew with tomatoes, onions and black olives

  I buy already packaged cubed pieces of lamb stew from Chappetti’s (8 dollars for 1 pound) at Treasure Islands supermarket, trim all the apparent fat, dry the pieces with a paper towel and let it stand for 15 minutes at room temperature. I use either a Le Creuset cocotte (a French enameled cast iron Dutch oven with a lid) or a Fagor heavy steel gage pressure cooker from Spain. Meanwhile I slice 2 medium-size yellow onions and 3 large cloves of fresh garlic (chopped), and I sauté them at low heat in extra-virgin olive oil until soft but not browned with some herbes de Provence. Then I add the meat and brown all pieces (about 5 minutes). I deglaze the bottom of the cocotte by stirring in 2 Tablespoons of a good quality red wine vinegar. Then I add the content of one large can of San Marzano Italian peeled plum tomatoes, juice drained, that I have seeded and coarsely chopped. I add one tablespoon of olive oil. Then I put in about 20 to 25 small pitted Greek black Kalamata olives that I have gently simmered for 5 minutes in boiling water to remove part of the oily brine and soften the taste. Then I pour a cup of low-sodium low-fat chicken broth (usually I use Swanson’s because I find the organic broth from Whole Foods overpriced and bland) and 1 cup of dry white wine (I use the Sauvignon blanc from Shaws at Trader Joe’s. I would never drink it but it is perfect for cooking), or even better of a dry rosé ‘’vin de pays’’ wine from Languedoc, like the Domaine de Gournier. I season the whole thing with salt and freshly ground pepper and add a few more sprinkles of dried Herbes de Provence. Then I add 2 tablespoons of tomato paste blended in some hot water. I stir well and bring the content of the pot to a gentle boil, then cover and let it simmer for 90 minutes. Check for tenderness after one hour, adjust the seasoning, and add wine if necessary.
 
I usually serve this dish with ‘’farfalle’’ pasta (usually the good Italian one sold under the Trader Joe's brand) sprinkled with chopped parsley at the last minute. If you do this dish in a pressure cooker set up at high pressure, do everything in the same way as described above, then close the lid and bring the pressure up on high heat. Once you hear the hiss from the valve and see a continuous wet steam coming out of the valve reduce to medium heat and cook for 15 minutes. Then remove the cooker from the burner, release the steam according to the instruction manual, wait until the pressure is completely out of the system and open the lid carefully. Then pour the content in a rustic looking earthenware dish.

Salade à la ciboulette (ou à l’ail): Boston lettuce with chives (or fresh crushed garlic) 

The French love to have a green salad course after the main dish. I keep with that tradition that I find not only refreshing but also it helps your digestive track to adjust as a transition between a meat-based dish in a sauce and the next course of cheese. I would love to have a ‘’mesclun’’ (mix) of various fresh greens including ‘’frisée’’, ‘’roquette’’ (arugula), feuille de chêne (oak-leaf lettuce), Bibb, and radicchio. But in early May in Chicago it is difficult to find good quality fresh greens of this sort. So I limit myself to a single Boston. I wash it well and dry it in my OXO salad spinner that works pretty well without breaking the leaves. In the mean time I prepare my dressing, a simple vinaigrette, the following way: In a large ceramic bow I put 1 teaspoon of salt, some freshly ground black pepper, and 2 tablespoons of Dijon mustard at room temperature. Then I add 2 Tablespoons of a good quality red wine vinegar (I usually use the Pompeian brand) and whisk that mix well to make sure there are no more lumps of mustard left. Then I progressively add the extra-virgin olive oil (I use the 100% Kalamata Greek extra-virgin olive oil from Martini’s from Trader Joe’s) . That oil is the best I could find so far for a full liter at $8.99 a bottle. The date of expiration, usually 2 years after bottling, which in my opinion is way too long, is engraved on the bottle and that allows me to make sure the oil is still fresh. I whisk the oil continuously while holding the bowl at an angle so that the oil easily gets emulsified in the mustard and vinegar mix without separating. It creates a very nicely smooth vinaigrette dressing. You should stop when you get about 1/3 of a cup which should be enough for a large Boston. Add the leaves of lettuce to the bowl and some freshly cut chives and mix them well with the dressing with a large fork and spoon made of wood. I personally use French ustensils made from the wood of olive trees.  

The cheese plate 

You can find practically all kinds of good quality French cheeses nowadays in Chicago. But most of them have become too expensive for my limited budget. So I can no longer afford the kind of cheese plate that I used to prefer. It included Camembert, Reblochon, Cantal, Tomme de Savoie, and Roquefort or Bleu d’Auvergne, and a Pyramide of goat cheese. At least I’m relieved to know that the U.S. government has reached an agreement of principles with the E.U and will no longer apply a 300% tax on Roquefort cheese. So these days I am content to find a good French Camembert from Normandy, if possible only ‘’thermisé’’ and not fully pasteurized in order to keep some of the original aromas of the real thing made with ‘’lait crû’’ (raw milk) that you no longer find legally in the US.. "Thermisé" means that the milk has been heated enough to kill bacteria but not at a temperature as high as in the pasteurization process that really diminish the real flavors and taste that a camembert au lait cru would offer. If you remember my piece on camembert published in this blog 2 years ago, the only two brands I had found that were satisfactory were Le Châtelain, and Isigny. But recently I found one that is even closer in taste and texture to the kind of Camembert I buy in France. It is sold exclusively by Whole Foods with a label saying: Selected by Hervé Mons. 
  Now, I have done some research and found out that Hervé Mons is a very reputable négociant-‘’affineur’’ (cheese ager) of cheese who sells from his specially designed ‘’caves et ateliers d’affinage’’ (specially designed cheese aging warehouses) in Roanne all kinds of ‘’artisan’’ cheeses to good restaurants, specialty shops and outdoor food markets.The company was started in 1965. They do a very good business with export. His importer in Washington state had asked him to produce a real camembert from Normandy that would be able to travel well to various points of the U.S market and keeps its intrinsic qualities of aroma, texture, taste, and appearance, while remaining fresh enough to avoid getting this unpleasant ammonia taste of many French camemberts that have been improperly aged or stored in U.S. warehouses, or in over-refrigerated conditions for too long. Hervé Mons worked for a whole year with local cheese makers in Normandy to reach this goal. The result was so impressive that Whole Foods Fromagerie asked him to be his exclusive point of sale to the public in the U.S. The Hervé Mons camembert I bought was perfectly aged, ’’à coeur’’ (ripe in the middle but not over ripe) and its rind was perfect in color (still bloomy with light golden colored strips) and texture. What a moment of pure pleasure we had. I paid $ 6.99 for it but its normal price is 8.99 dollars I also had a very small piece of a very good raw milk Roquefort from Binny’s cheese shop but I do not remember what brand it was. It was fine, freshly cut, but not spectacular for the price: $ 25 a pound.  


Dessert: Tarte à la Frangipane (almond paste tart)

Since I did not bake it I will only mention the basic ingredients and instructions: Pie pastry dough in a buttered mold after being rolled. In a small sauce pan mix by stirring well over low heat 3 whole eggs, half cup of sugar, 1 stick of unsalted butter, and one small can of almond paste cut in small pieces (Solo brand I believe). Pour the whole thing into the dough-covered mold. Bake at 400 degrees. When frangipane filling is firm (about 30 minutes) brush top with egg yolk. Stéphane: Ask your mother if you need more specific instructions.


And last but not least: The wine: 
  Domaine Grand Destré 2007 Vin de pays de la Principauté d’Orange

. A selection of Ravoire & Fils in Lauris, Vaucluse The country wines from that district usually come from grapes harvested in several townships in Vaucluse such as Orange, Valreas, Vaison-la-Romaine and Bedarrides, to mention the most well-known of them. I do not think that this blend of 80% Grenache and 20% Syrah is a ‘’vin de propriétaire’’ (from a specific vineyard owner) but, I know that it is bottled by the family-owned Ravoire Company, a good wholesaling company also from Vaucluse whose president has a long tradition of winemaking in his family. Stephen Gaucher, the very competent president of the importing company, Wine Adventures in Iowa, that imports good and exciting French wines since 1999, told me that the grapes are harvested in the Sainte Cécile aux Vignes area, a few miles Northeast of Orange, in the beautiful Département du Vaucluse. In this medium-body red charmer you can feel the sun-drenched terroir of the Southern Rhône. It offers very pleasant notes of ripe plums and red berries, and develops well in the mouth with secondary touches of leather and licorice. It is indeed a very well made, but not too complex, wine who was awarded a gold medal at the Concours Agricole of Paris in 2008, it has a very good balance of fruit and acidity and would be an ideal companion for any lamb-based dish, grilled eggplants, zucchinis and tomates provençales. Also it can be a perfect wine for summer barbecues. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did. I bought it at Binny's for a special "end of bin" price for Binny's club members, but the regular price is around 8 or 9 dollars. Bon appétit.

French Charcuterie in the United States

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French Charcuterie in the United States

What exactly is ‘’charcuterie’’ and where can you find some close enough to the French original in the U.S?

I’m really sorry Stéphane to be so late (3 months) in answering your question about ‘’la charcuterie’’. I’ve been quite busy over the last three months giving myself a refresher course on various types of French wines, essentially Corbières, Minervois, Vins de pays du Languedoc, Alsace, and Bordeaux, that I had to promote during wine tastings in wine and fancy grocery stores in the Chicago area. So I have to confess that my attention was not too focused on French charcuterie.

Besides I went through a period of intense “blogging fatigue”, a disease that, from what I read, affects most bloggers at one point or the other.

The questions you asked me are related to a subject that holds a special place in my life as a French "gourmand".

So I'm going to try to answer them in 5 groups:

• My personal memories as a ''charcuterie fan'' since I was a child in France in the 40s and 50s.
• Trying to define French charcuterie
• Various types of French regional pork specialties
• 3 main categories of ''French-style'' charcuterie products in the U.S.
• Where to find good French charcuterie in the U.S 
•  

I have been a big fan of the pig since I was a kid

A few weeks ago when I was having lunch with my friend Kiki at his eponymous restaurant as we do every Friday, we ate a very nice ‘’choucroute garnie à l’alsacienne’’, and the vision of these sausages, salt pork, and ham over the steaming sauerkraut, not only reminded me that I had not written anything about the subject of your inquiry on our blog, but also made me think about my Grand-Maman Laplanche.

As you know, choucroute garnie is one of my favorite ‘’met de brasserie’’ and I’m happy that from time to time during our long winters Kiki’s Bistro has it as a ‘’special de la semaine’’. Besides the sauerkraut, ideally cooked in Riesling, my favorite Alsatian wine, but any not too acidic dry white wine will do, and the small boiled potatoes, this dish at Kiki’s is served with a slice of warm French ‘’jambon de Paris’’, some ‘’cervelas’’ (knackwurst), a wiener, a piece of veal bratwurst, and salt pork. I wish they could add some pork shank.

From time to time my Swiss Grandmother in Geneva would prepare a spectacular choucroute garnie, a dish as popular in Swiss brasseries as in their Alsatian French counterparts, but she would make it from scratch. It means that she would slowly cook raw sauerkraut for two days with the appropriate wine, juniper berries, caraway seeds, and spices. As a result her apartment would be permeated by a very foul smell that would remain for at least a whole week after the feast, and everybody in her building would know what she had been cooking. But boy, was it a good choucroute garnie. Sometimes she would add ‘’saucisse de Morteau’’ or “ de Montbéliard’’, very flavorful sausages from the Jura, a mountainous area on each side of the border between France and Switzerland where she was born and raised, as well as pieces of ham shank or pork shoulder. And I believe that she cooked the sauerkraut in “saindoux” (lard), providing an extraordinary smoothness to that cabbage. She used a very fragrant but dry inexpensive Swiss white wine from the Geneva area that provided the adequate balance of acidity.

I felt even more guilty about my lack of follow-up to your questions when, a few Fridays ago, as an appetizer, Kiki produced a very good ‘’saucisson sec’’, made in the U.S. but I do not know where, that was almost as good as the beautiful rustic one made by Fabrique Délices in Hayward, Ca on the other side of the SF Bay, that we bought at your MountainView farmer’s market last September. That saucisson ‘’pur porc’’, in its natural pig intestine skin, is as good as any one I ever had in France. And, believe me, I tried practically almost every kind of ''saucisson sec'' produced in the French regions since I grew-up in Saint-Hippolyte where we had great ''saucisson de montagne'' from the nearby Cévennes mountains, that was a bit hard to chew, but so full of robust rustic flavors. 

My godfather Jean Saint-Martin would take a piece of this kind of ''saucisson sec de montagne'' in his hunting bag along with some “ jambon cru” (raw ham) and a big piece of country bread when we were gone for the whole day in these Cévennes, that are so dear to my heart, to hunt rabbit, wild boars, or more simply game birds. At 10 in the morning we would stop and eat this ''casse-croûte'' (snack) while listening to the exciting sounds coming out of the forest and a marvelous little river called ‘’le Bonheur’’ (The Happiness), near the Mont Aigoual (the second highest point in the Cévennes mountains with an elevation of 1,565 meters). Those are great food memories of my youth. 

I am not ashamed say that even as I write this I am still a fan of the pig, and that I have a special taste for pork meat and charcuterie since my early days.

Speaking of my youth, since I was 7 years old I always loved ‘’charcuterie’’, even more than red meat. I was a boy scout in the mid-fifties, and when were camping for a couple of days or a week, in some remote rural areas of France, the base of our diet was bread, hard- boiled eggs, paté, jambon (ham) and saucisson sec (dry sausage). In those days charcuterie was much cheaper than fresh red meat or chicken. And lots of people, especially in blue-collar and rural environments, ate a lot of pork products, especially various types of fresh pan-fried or grilled sausages and ‘’boudin’’, either blanc (white, made of veal, chicken, bread, cream and egg) or noir (black, in fact a very tasty blood sausage seasoned with herbs, onion, and spices).

My favorite pâté was ‘’ les rillettes’’, a very fatty, but tasty, spread of minced (or pulled) fragments of lean cooked pork mixed with pork fat.

Most of the time rillettes were of the cheap canned variety, and it was so fatty and its quality was so mediocre, that at least 3 or 4 other scouts on my team did not finish most of their portions. So I would finish theirs. I was eventually nicknamed ‘’ le père la rillette’’ because of my peculiar ability to eat enormous quantities of that greasy but very tasty stuff.

And my favorite piece of meat was of course ‘’ la côte de porc’’ (pork chop), that my grandmother Laplanche slow-cooked for me in butter. She reduced the natural cooking juices with a touch of white wine after sometimes adding a few slices of sautéed wild mushrooms. I loved it and ate the external fat of the chop first.

No wonder that 30 years later, my doctor in Evanston was horrified to discover an extremely high level of cholesterol in my blood…

In our country house near Geneva, “Gonvers”, where you have been a couple of times, my great aunt Mathilde Laplanche would sometimes cook, on a wood-burning stove, on Sundays or special occasions a rôti de porc (pork roast) that was very flavorful but, for my taste, cooked way too long, as it was customary in these days. It would be accompanied again by a marvelous mushroom sauce made of locally-picked flavorful cèpes (boletus or porcino mushroom) or delicate ‘’ mousserons’’ in reduced natural juices from the roast, white wine, and shallots. My grand-papa Laplanche was an expert ‘’mycologist’’ (somebody who knows a lot about mushrooms) and he would take me on long walks in the forests around Gonvers to gather cèpes, chanterelles, oronges, and coulemelles. A few times he almost died from trying mushrooms that he was not too sure were edible or poisonous, but he could not resist their color or smell. We had lots of books on mushrooms in the Gonvers house.

During these summer week-ends in Gonvers when everybody would bring something from the city, I was always hoping that my grand-mother would bring a few slices of an amazing ‘’pâté en croûte’’ an extraordinary rich and complex ‘’ terrine’’ of veal, pork, and forcemeat with peppercorns and sometimes pistachios, cooked in aspic and totally wrapped in a buttery crust that is usually rich in eggs and coated inside with lard.

There were always long discussions around the table covering the various merits or defects of the two ‘’charcuteries’’ where they bought these marvelous goodies: Chouet in downtown Geneva and Goy another 

one in Onex, a suburb of Geneva, close to our house of Gonvers.

I also was very jealous of the ‘’cervelas’’ (a cooked knackwurst sausage) that my great aunt Suzy would bring, and eat with her own potato salad seasoned with an eggy dressing with parsley and shallots, because she would rarely shares it with anybody. So once I asked my grand mother to buy me one and I ate it all by myself with some Swiss (German type) mustard and ‘’cornichons’’. It was a pure moment of paradise.

Nowadays, when I am too nostalgic of that ‘’cervelas’’, I buy a couple of pieces of the very good but a bit too garlicky knackwurst that they make at Paulina Market on Lincoln avenue in Chicago, and we eat it with a lukewarm potato salad doused with a splash of white wine, a Dijon mustard vinaigrette, and chopped parsley. I then feel transported back to Geneva 50 years ago…

I never had a chance to find any ‘’pâté en croûte’’ in Chicago though… but I’m still looking. I know that Marcel & Henri, a French charcuterie in San Francisco (see farther down for their address) make several types of pâtés en croûte. But when I asked the deli department manager at Fox and Obel, the gourmet shop that recently started to sell a few of the Marcel and Henri pâtés, and if they ever sold pâté en croûte, I was told that it does not sell well in Chicago.

Killing the pig: A fascinating ritual in French villages. Not a single part of the animal was left unused

In French rural areas, when you killed the pig, usually under the direction of the local butcher, all the neighbors, especially women, congregated with all kinds of utensils, buckets, knives, etc to participate in the rituals: making a bonfire of wine shoots, installing a cauldron on a tripod, boiling water, collecting and processing and spicing the blood, cutting and slicing the lard, grilling some pieces of fat, cleaning the intestines to be used in sausage filling, removing the pig’s hair and cleaning its his skin, dressing and boiling the head, slicing the tripe, cutting the meat, etc. Not a single part of the pig, not even the feet or the tail was rejected as non edible.

I remember one day of 1947 when my parents had let such a pig killing event take place in our backyard in Saint-Hippolyte du Fort , since they knew the butcher who was a friend. I observed the whole scene from my bedroom located just above the board were they had hung that poor pig. The noise of his agony when they sliced his neck to kill him and collect the precious fresh blood, is still vivid in my ears. Later on when they started to fry some pieces of skin with some fat on it, it smelled so good that I ran down to the garden to eat some.

But, to get back to the core of our topic: 

What exactly is CHARCUTERIE in France?

The best way to learn interesting facts about the history of charcuterie in France is to read the first part (The history of pork and charcuterie) of chapter 13 of the marvelous book by Maguelonne Toussaint-Samat, History of Food, whose English translation was published in paperback in 1994 by Blackwell. This masterpiece is 800 pages long but should be in the bookcase of anybody really interested in food. 

This term comes actually from two words, “chair” (meaning flesh) and “cuite” (cooked). It refers to the fact that in the Middle-Ages in France, there was a difference between the butcher who had the sole right to slaughter and sell the carcass and meat of animals, including pigs, and the CHAIRCUITIER, who would buy raw pork meat from the butcher and cook and prepare it in various products such as hams, sausages, and bacon. It should be noted that the term ‘’bacon’’, that is not used in contemporary French, comes from an old French word, or more precisely Frankish, ‘’bako’’ that meant ham. The French translation for bacon is ‘’lard de poitrine fumé’’.

But the ‘’charcutiers’’ in Paris battled for centuries with the ‘’ bouchers’’ to be accepted as the sole and recognized pork meat specialists. At the end of the 15^th century the charcutiers started to organize to defend their rights, among them to be able to slaughter pigs and they founded their own “Guild” (brotherhood or trade association). According to Toussaint-Samat, their recognition as multi-tasking charcutiers was finally granted in 1705. In 1741 they obtained the exclusive right of preparing and curing hams and to sell various innards such as tripe. 

So to summarize: Charcuterie is a word that:

1. Defines the various techniques used in cooking, preparing, salting, smoking, drying and processing, food products deriving from pork meat cuts: hams, pork butt, sausages (both raw, cooked, and dry), salt pork and bacon, pâtés, terrines, galantines, mousses, confits, headcheese, etc.
2. Is the name of the store in which a pork butcher, the ‘’charcutier’’, prepares and sells these products

Nowadays a charcutier also sells a large variety of prepared, cured, salted, smoked, cooked, or processed meat specialties deriving from other sources than pork. This is the case for terrines, pâtés, confits, sausages, made from meat such as rabbit, hare, venison, wild boar, duck, chicken, turkey, pheasant, other game birds, lamb (like in merguez sausages), ostrich, etc.

A charcutier also almost always sell rotisserie chicken. And often, in smaller towns and villages, he prepares and cooks special dishes for families when they celebrate a wedding or a baptism at their home and have lots of relatives and friends coming for the occasion. In the same manner the local “ boulanger-patissier” (baker and pastry maker) will prepare the cakes and festive cookies and candies.

When and where did the process of making charcuterie start?

According to Toussaint-Samat, the first people to eat pig meat, simply cooked (boiled) or, in special festive occasions, stuffed with herbs and spices, and roasted, were the ancient Greeks.

But it was really during the Roman Empire that the art of preparing pork dishes was really fully developed and that charcuterie the way we know it, including sausage making started. The Romans were very good at curing techniques such as smoking and salting to preserve pig’s meat.

The Romans loved ham. And it is probable that they first imported some hams from the region that is now Westphalia in Germany, an area that was populated more than 2000 years ago by large herds of wild pigs.

The Germans were experts at drying and salting the hams of these wild pigs and sold a lot of them to the Romans.

But when the Romans conquered parts of Gaul (now France) they were delighted to find out that the Gauls were also preparing succulent hams.

The origin of this particular good flavor was found in the type of acorn that the pigs from Gaul ate in the forests. The same excellence was found in other areas where Romans expanded their domination like Corsica and some regions of Spain. Nowadays the “jamon” from Spain, like the ‘’pata negra’’ has become a very expensive delicacy in the U.S., and the Parisians love Corsican restaurants that sell ham and dry or semi-dry sausage such as ‘’figatelli’’.

All over Gaul, charcutiers made all kinds of beef and pork sausages, some kind of ‘’andouillette’’ (chitterling sausage), ‘’boudin noir’’ (black pudding made of pork blood), tripes flavored with onion and garlic, cooked stuffed pig`s heads, etc.

The French continued to eat lots of pork products between the Middle-Ages and the Revolution. Many very strict laws were progressively instituted not only to regulate the rules of the trade but also to ensure safe and healthy ways to prepare and cure pork meat. From the end of the Middle-Ages special inspectors were trained to make sure pigs were not carriers of diseases by checking their tongues. Some other inspectors would check the way farmers fed pigs. And centuries later very strict rules were imposed by the French Ministry of Agriculture after several scandals involving tainted cheap charcuterie products were found in the rations of soldiers at the beginning of the 20^th century and at the outset of World War I.

Nowadays most rules regarding charcuterie products are set by European Community commissions and are strictly enforced.

One of the problems nowadays is that most “charcuterie” sold in French supermarkets and even in local smaller pork-butcher shops is of the industrial or semi-industrial type, and not made by local “artisans-charcutiers” anymore.

In most small towns and villages when I was young there were separate ‘’ boucheries’’ (butcher shops) that sold all kinds of meat, and ‘’charcuteries’’ that sold pork products exclusively .

Nowadays, with the unfortunate disappearance of the majority of family-owned retail stores in such small communities invaded by franchises of national chains of super and hyper-markets that offer huge selections of fresh and cured or canned meats and charcuterie as well as prepared meat-based carry-out dishes, there are only, in most villages, only one or two ‘’boucherie-charcuterie’’ that sell all kinds of meat and charcuterie as well as rotisserie chicken, and ‘’plats de traiteur’’ (carry-out ready to cook or eat dishes). But too many of these ‘’bouchers-charcutiers’, lacking time or trained staffers, do not prepare their own hams, pâtés, terrines, boudins, or saucissons secs, any more but sell only fresh sausage and fresh meat and poultry. Most of the charcuterie products that they sell come from national brands, or regional distributors of semi-industrial charcuterie. Only in small artisan shops in villages or in ‘’gourmet shops’’, in big cities will you find authentic artisan charcuterie products made in various regions of France, famous for their specialties. 

Practically every region of France has its own ‘’spécialités de charcuterie’’. But some are better known for one or two specialties.

Région Lyonnaise:

When I used to travel often to Lyon (the big and lively city South of Geneva, where eating well is almost a religion) I loved to have lunch in one the famous ‘’bouchons’’ (small bistros), like Le Café des Fédérations (Rue du Major Martin) where you would eat a few authentic specials and start with some charcuterie Lyonnaise produced locally by good artisans. Enormous dry sausages were hanging from the ceiling.

Typical charcuterie are ‘’rosette de Lyon’’ a kind of semi-hard salami from Saint Symphorien; ‘’cervelas de Lyon’’, a smoked, truffled or pistachioed uncooked pork sausage with a very fine textured meat, that is usually boiled. Its name is due to the fact that it used to include ‘’cervelle’’ (brains); ‘’saucisson à l’ail’’ ( garlic sausage) served hot with a warm potato salad. My favorite way to prepare that kind of sausage is ‘’saucissson en brioche’’. Delicious and served in some of the best restaurants of the Lyon area.

Sow’s ears, tripe sausage with veal, pigs’ trotters, are loved by locals but less appreciated outside of the Lyon area. But the famous ‘’jambon persillé’’, a very flavorful ham specialty originally from Burgundy, is appreciated all over France. If prepared by a good artisan charcutier it is made from good quality uncooked ham slowly poached in a cloth in a well seasoned (with wine) court-bouillon. After being chopped it is formed in a round shaped terrine and covered with a parsleyed aspic. Delicious.

Some old-fashion bistos also serve “grattons”, little pieces of pork fried in lard, that some people love in an omelette.

But the most uncommon spécialité lyonnaise is ‘’la ferchusse’’ a dish based on pig’s lungs, spleen and heart cooked in red wine and flavored with garlic, that was traditionally prepared at the time when the pig was killed at the farm. I do not know if that specialty is still popular.

All of the aboveare eatenwith good Beaujolais crus like Morgon or Chiroubles.

Auvergne: 

In this beautiful rural and mountainous area, many good traditional rustic and flavorful pork-based bistro dishes were created such as:

Pommes de terre au lard à l’auvergnate (potatoes baked with bacon and garlic)

Petit salé aux lentilles (salt pork, likethe pork butt, spare ribs, or lean belly portion, cooked with lentils)

Potée auvergnate ( boiled pork shoulder with salt pork and ground pork, vegetables and cabbage)

Grattons (see Lyon)

Rissoles auvergnates (deep-fried pork turnovers)

Personally I love ‘’Jambon cru d’Auvergne’’ which is a raw dry cured mountain ham, that, along with Cantal cheese from the same region, is delicious in a sandwich

on buttered country or rye bread. And of course the very popular “saucisse sèche’’, a thin and pretty hard to chew rustic u-shaped sausage made of very flavorful hand-chopped piece of pork stuffed in small intestine and air-dried for a very long time.

The rarely found ‘’galantine of cochon de lait ’’ is also a delicious pâté made from very tender and flavorful pieces of suckling pig.

Jura and the French Alps:

I love both the Saucisse de Morteau which is delicately flavored with caraway seeds. A small wooden stick is woven in and out of the skin at one end of the sausage to close it. Morteau sausage is usually gently warmed in simmering water,

I also like the Saucisse de Montbéliard that has a slightly smoky flavor . The region of Savoie in the French Alps offers a beautiful mild and nutty Jambon cru (raw ham) and a very tasty Saucisse au choux ( pork sausage with cabbage) that is so good cooked slowly in a ‘’potée’’ or served with a ‘’gratin au fromage’’. The ‘’Diots au vin blanc’’ are small pink sausages flavored with white wine that are usually pan sautéed

Provence:

As a matter of fact, this is not a region where pork dishes are in favor. Lamb and beef dishes are much more prevalent. Even the Saucisson d’Arles, a dry sausage that used to be made from donkey meat a century ago, is nowadays made of beef and pork fat with some garlic and black pepper .

Saucisson d’Arles, along with ‘’saucisson chasseur’’ used to be a very popular item in the ‘’ casse-croûte’’ (snack or lunch based on bread and charcuterie) taken from home to work or to school by blue-collar workers, housewives of large families with limited income, and low-on cash students (like me in this particular case), because it was cheaper than ‘’saucisson pur porc’’ or other specialties.

Also, in the Marseille area where for many years many people originally from North Africa (former French territories or colonies of Algeria, Tunisia and Morocco) have settled, many charcutiers produce the very flavorful and spicy orange-colored “merguez” sausages, made of beef and mutton.

Alsace :

In that paradise for solid eaters, ‘’goose foie gras’’ is king. But I personally do not include foie gras in this piece since I consider it to be just a cousin to charcuterie, even though most charcutiers sell foie gras. Most foie gras is made of 100% duck or goose liver. It is only in cheaper grades of industrial ‘’pâtés or galantines de foie gras’’ hat you find a forcemeat made of pork.

But Alsatians have other interesting ways to accommodate pork meat: Roasted with small mirabelles, plums, or cabbage. Suckling pig in aspic.

And of course pork sausage, ham, salt pork, including portions of the shank or shoulder, are essential components of the famous ‘’Choucroute garnie à l’Alsacienne’’ often mentioned in this blog.

And the ‘’petits lardons’’ (small pieces of bacon or slices of salted or smoked breast) play a major role in the taste of the traditional ‘’Tarte Flambée Alsacienne’’ (Flammekueche) , a very exciting kind of cheese, cream, onions, and bacon flatbread that is cooked in a baker’s wood-fired oven and often eaten by Alsatian families on Sunday night in a restaurant.

Pork spare rib is another major component of the Baekoffe, another traditional stew of beef, lamb, pork, potatoes, onions and wine, cooked in a clay pot in a baker’s oven.

The most famous sausage from this area is the red-colored “saucisse de Stasbourg”, that in look and taste is close to the “wiener”. But many of the industrial types of these sausages sold in supermarkets or as hot-dogs in cafes and cafeterias, are unfortunately made with just a little bit of cheap ground meat or powdered pork rind emulsified with lots of starch and additives. Only the real thing made in artisan charcuteries in Alsace or Paris are worth trying.

Languedoc and Midi: 

Everybody loves a good ‘’cassoulet’’ (the name comes from the earthenware container in which it is cooked and served called ‘’cassole’’), whose meat components vary if it is made in Toulouse, Carcassonne or Castelnaudary (my favorite version). But one thing is sure: this most famous of all comfort food dishes made of kidney beans, tomatoes, herbs, garlic, and various pieces of meat (duck or goose confit, lamb breast, pork loin, pork shoulder, ham ) and sausages, always contains pork sausages and salt pork.

One of the most well-known sausage of this region is the ‘’saucisse de Toulouse’’, a fresh pork sausage whose meat encased in pig’s intestine, is supposed to be chopped by hand with a knife. Its diameter is a bit larger than most other fresh pork sausages.

And I will not forget my dear ‘’fricandeau’’ made by good artisanal charcutiers in the villages of Cévennes, and more particularly in Lozère, that is a delicious round-shaped type of paté made from various lean and fat parts of the pork, including ‘’abats’’ (organ meats) cooked slowly in a ‘’crépine de porc’’ (caul fat) in the oven, and served either warm or cold with pickles. And I'm sure Stephane that you will recognize the following photo.It shows a jar of that very flavorful ''pâté de foie pur porc'' (pork liver pâté) that we ate at Jean-Paul's house in Lasalle in the Cévennes when we visited there in July 2007. This delicious pâté, made by the local ''artisan-charcutier'', Monsieur Chardenon, reminded me of the pâté my mother used to buy a few miles down the road in Saint-Hippolyte and spread on slices of rustic bread for my ''goûter'' (afternoon snack).

The Southwest ( Aquitaine, Périgord, Quercy, Bearn, Pays Basque)

I will take a pass on the famous Foie Gras du Périgord as well as all the other duck or goose-based specialties of this area, including the delicious ‘’confits’’ , to limit myself to

‘’pig focused’’ specialties such as the marvelous Jambon de Bayonne.

This very aromatic dry-cured ham, when it is truly a ham produced from pigs raised with special care in the Bearn area, is rubbed with a mixture of salt, sugar, and peppers and then dried in ventilated rooms for about 6 months. Unfortunately, many so-called Bayonne hams are not necessarily produced in that area close to the Pyrénées mountains.

In some areas, a delicious roasted stuffed suckling pig is served on special occasions.

Touraine and Loire Valley

Two of the best known specialties are the “rillettes de Tours” (see description above in 2^nd paragraph) and the pungent-smelling but very sweet and delicate tasting ‘’andouillette’’ that you find in the Vouvray area.

This particular tripe sausage made of chitterlings, is in fact found in various regions of France such as Beaujolais and Lyon (with the andouilletttes produced by the famous charcutier Bobosse), the North (in Cambrai), Champagne (particularly in Troyes), Burgundy (in the Chablis area) and Auvergne (the very good charcutier Duval). The best ones are awarded the well-known AAAAA label by an association called Association Amicale des Amateurs d’Autentiques Andouillettes (Association of Connoisseurs of Authentic Andouillettes).

Andouillettes that can be flavored with various wines, spirits, and spices. They are usually grilled, and sometimes cooked in wine-based sauce.

Brittany and Normandy

Brittany counts a very large number of producers (artisan as well as industrial) of various types of pâtés, particularly ‘’ pâté de foie’’ (liver paté) and ‘’pâté de campagne’’ (country paté).

The two cities of Guéméné in Brittany and Vire in Normandy are recognized as the 2 capitals of ‘’Andouille’.’ It is larger and slightly more smoked than the ‘’andouillette’’, made from pieces of chopped small pork intestine. The andouille is already cooked and usually served cold in slices.

The ‘’jambon de Morlaix’’, rarely found outside of Brittany, is a very tasty cooked smoked ham.

Champagne- Ardennes 

Le Jambon des Ardennes, from the woody area in Northern France near the Belgian border, is a delicious raw smoked ham. In this same area which counts lots of hunters, they used to make a very tasty ‘’ pâté de sanglier’’ (made from wild boar meat) and a special headcheese made from young boar’s head , la ‘’hure de marcassin’’

In Champagne they make some of the most delicate ‘’feuilletés à la viande ’ (forced meat cooked in champagne in puff pastry), ‘’petits pâtés chauds’’( pork, veal, and chicken liver hot pâté in pastry dough) served hot, and marvelous ‘’pâté en croûte’’ made from all kinds of pork parts combined with meat from game birds, rabbit or venison.

But one of the more interesting pork specialties from Champagne, that is unfortunately rarely found nowadays, is the “pieds de porc à la Sainte Menehould, made of grilled pig feets, that have been slowly cooked for several hours (for 48 hours many years ago) then coated with melted butter, breaded, and grilled. This very tasty dish is served warm with Dijon mustard. A real treat that I have not had a chance to taste since I left Reims in 1958.

Ile de France (the area around Paris)

In good charcuteries and ‘’boutiques de produits régionaux’’ (shops specializing in food specialties from a specific province or region) in the French capital, you can practically find all kinds of specialty hams, sausages, and pâtés.

The famous "Jambon de Paris’’, which is also called ‘’jambon blanc’’was originally produced there .

This cooked ham has a very delicate pale color and is very lightly salted. French people use it in the most popular baguette-based sandwich: "jambon-beurre-cornichons".

A very popular, and very good brand of Jambon de Paris, Madrange, . is now found in good delicatessen and gourmet food shops in the U.S. I personally buy mine at Fox and Obel in Chicago, and, though it is not cheap (14 dollars a pound) I have to say that since it is sliced on demand, it is always fresh and moist.

I have not tried yet the jambon de Paris, made from Amish pork by Les Trois Petits Cochons ( 3 little Pigs) a famous French charcuterie in Brooklyn, NY. Only one retailer, BINNY'S sells it in Chicago.

(see later where to buy it) 

• I sometimes use the Madrange ham to make a simplified ‘’croque-monsieur’’, a grilled sandwich made of two pieces of white bread, buttered on the outside, between which you insert 2 slices of ham, and 2 slices of Swiss cheese. You grill it for a few minutes until the cheese is about to melt.In French bistros they add some béchamel sauce between the ham and the cheese.But I usually like to do mine "open face". I brown a slice of Italian bread in olive oil and then spread it with Dijon mustard and put one slice of ham on it and cover it with shredded Jarlsberg cheese. I place it on a cookie sheet under the broiler for 2 to 3 minutes.

Some of the best Jambon de Paris sold in Paris charcuteries are called ‘’ au torchon’’, since after a delicate brining process, it is wrapped in a cloth and cooked, bone in, with its rind and external white fat intact in a broth of home-made court-bouillon. When it is cool, it is then deboned and trimmed.

If you cannot afford ‘’jambon au torchon’’ in a charcuterie or at the deli counter or your supermarket, make sure at least that you buy a ‘’jambon supérieur’’ with a red label.

(The very interesting book ‘’French Regional Cooking’’ by Anne Willan can provide you with additional info about specialties from all French regions. 

The 3 main categories of French Charcuterie Products that you can find in the United States

1. Pâtés, terrines, rillettes, mousses and galantines.

Some of the most commonly found here are :

Pâtés de campagne, a country-style pâté made of coarse and finely ground pork meat, seasoned with spices and often black peppercorn

Pâté forestier, a pâté made of minced pork with small pieces of fresh mushroom

Mousse de foie, made of finely ground and emulsified pork, chicken, duck or goose liver, sometimes flavored with cognac, armagnac, or port wine. It can include tiny pieces of truffles, prunes, etc..

Pâté de lapin, made of coarse and finer pieces of rabbit and pork meat, often flavored with hazelnuts or prunes.

Terrine de canard a duck pâté cooked in an earthenware container called ‘’terrine’’, that has been lined with pork fat. It often contains pieces of pistachio nut. This type of terrine is sometimes flavored with port wine or armagnac. It can also be seasoned with green peppercorns.

Rillettes de porc ou de lapin (see above for description) made of shredded lean pork or rabbit meat, mixed with fat.

Galantine de canard, poulet, faisan, etc (sometimes with pork or veal). Boned and relatively coarse pieces of lean meat rolled and cooked in fat with a glaze of gelatin. Most often the main ingredient is from poultry meat, but it may also come from more sophisticated game bird like pheasant or from venison.

2. Sausages and boudins,

1. Saucisse fraiche (fresh sausage)

Saucisse de Toulouse, a major component of cassoulet

Merguez (made of beef and lamb, red-colored, spicy,) usually grilled and eaten with couscous

Boudin noir (blood sausage), often served with cooked apples

Boudin blanc, made of veal, chicken, pork, cream, egg, bread, white wine, and sometimes seasoned with truffles or chives, usually grilled

2. Saucisse sèche (dried sausage)

Saucisson sec (various types)

Saucisson à l’ail (dry garlic sausage)

3. Jambons (hams)

Jambon de Paris

Jambon blanc

• To know more about the various types of French sausages, pâtés, boudins, galantines, etc I suggest that you visit www.thenibble.com and look for Marcel and Henri Charcuterie where you will find a complete and very clear description of all the specialties, how they are made, and how to pronounce their names.
•  

Where can you find decent French-style charcuterie in the United–States ?

When we arrived in Chicago in January 1970 the first 3 items I immediately started to look for in local stores were French camembert, French wines, and French pâté and saucisson.

I did not have problems to find the wines, but had lots of difficulties to find camembert (see my posting from 2007 on that story). The first few years I had to be content with Danish canned camebert and a much better American ‘’camembert’’ from KOLB made in Lena, Il. But the worst problem was to find decent pâté and saucisson. Only Polish, Hungarian, and German types came a bit close. Once again I had to rely too often to canned Danish paté.

It took me years to discover great salamis and dry sausage in very good Italian shops in far-away Italian neighborhoods.

Nowadays though, I have to admit that I sometimes buy very good Italian Salumis made in the U.S by companies like FRA MANI, from Berkeley, CA, JOHN VOLPI, in ST. Louis, or MOLINARI in San Franciso.

In the seventies I sometimes found very small cans of mediocre ‘’French pâté de foie’’ (pork and chicken liver pâté) but most of the time they were probably outdated and their quality was at best mediocre. I have to admit that in those days I did not check the very few very expensive so called ‘’gourmet’’ grocery stores like Stop and Shop where I would have found French canned foie gras from ROUGIE or some "imported" camembert sold under the Ile De France label.

The Danish canned pâté was not good. And in the seventies the wine stores like Gold Standard or Zimmerman’s did not have the very satisfying, if not sublime, cheese and deli departments that they have now in 2009.

Besides the FDA ( Food and Drug Administration) had very strict rules prohibiting most French meat-based products, including Hams, Sausages, and Pâtés from being imported in the U.S..

It is unfortunately still the case, at a time when many Italian and Spanish Hams are imported .....

The only good pâtés that you could eat in the sixties and seventies were made in French restaurants and bistros where French or French-trained cooks knew how to make them. They were numerous in New York City and there were a few good ones in San Francisco, Los Angeles, DC, Boston, and Chicago. Here in Chicago I remember some good pâtés and terrines at La Fontaine, Le Perroquet, La Bastille, and l’Escargot.

We had to wait until the mid-eighties to find decent charcuterie sold in gourmet shops, at caterers like Mitchell Cobey, and places like Le Chalet, a division of the Gold Standard liquor stores group, now called BINNY's. Some of them came from French charcuteries like Les Trois Petits Cochons in New York City.

Treasure Island sometimes had also decent pâtés. But you had to watch their color carefully to make sure they were still fresh enough to be edible.

In 2009, one of the best selections of French-style charcuterie can be found at BINNY’S, (several stores in the Chicago area), and more particularly at their South Jefferson St. Store. I also sometimes find decent deli products at Marcey’s St. Market in SAM’S on Marcey St. in Chicago, and at WHOLE FOODS too.

In New-York City, of course, ZABAR and DEAN & DE LUCA, are still reliable addresses that have much wider selections.

1. French commercial Charcuteries with ''artisanal'' roots. 

The first French charcuterie in the U.S. was started in 1960 by a French expatriate, Henri Lapuyade, who opened a small shop on Russian Hill in San Francisco and, using some traditional recipes from his native country, launched a real trend on the West Coast with his pâtés and a few sausages. His charcuterie rapidly became very popular and with his partner Marcel they created a very profitable company, MARCEL & HENRI that eventually moved to a large plant in South San Francisco.

They offer a very wide line of products, including fresh sausages, and pâtés en croûte, that are sold through a large network of regional distributors, in retail stores, and on line at www.marcelethenri.com . and through other gourmet food sites.

You can find some of their product in restaurants, and at catering companies all over the United States

A visit to this site, with all the descriptions and photos, literally make your mouth water.

They sell their pâtés in bulk loaves, in terrines, and in prepackaged slices.

In Chicago, their distributor is European Import on North Elston avenue.

A few M&H products are on sale at Fox and Obel.

I tried their Pâté de Campagne au Champagne and black peppercorns (around $6.50 for a slice weighing approximately 8oz). It was well seasoned, with lots of black peppercorns, and very tasty. But I thought that the texture was too smooth for a country pâté, and that the proportion of pork liver and pork fat was too high and that there were not enough little pieces of pork meat. But nevertheless it is a good pâté.

They also sell the same pâtét at Fox and Obel in a small 7oz plastic terrine for about 6 dollars.

 

F&O also sells Rillettes de Tours, Boudin Blanc, Mousse de canard, Boudin Basque, and other prodducts from Marcel & Henri.

415 Browning Way South San Francisco, CA 94080 Tel: 1-700-227-5426 

When Alain Sinturel and Jean-Pierre Pradier, another pair of French expats, opened LES TROIS PETITS COCHONS (Three Little Pigs) in Greenwich Village in NY city in 1975, they would never have guessed that this modest neighborhood shop would be, for a long time, the “reference” in the United States when you talked about French pâté, and that this company would become, as an article in the New York Times on French patés would call it in 1996, the ‘’General Motors of the industry’’. Their pâtés and sausages got very good reviews from such food luminaries and critics as James Beard, Mimi Sheraton and Craig Claiborne, that brought them a very faithful following from East Coast restaurants and gourmets.

Their pâtés, made without nitrates or Nitrites, were the first good ones I was able to discover in Chicago in the mid-eighties.

They sell a wide line of pâtés and sausages, including merguez.

As I said earlier, they also produce a great Jambon de Paris, made from Pennsylvania Amish pork, that you can order normally on their website, or on www.igourmet.com , and of course from European Import. In Chicago its is only available at the Binny`s stores..

Nowadays I still think that their Mousse de Foie de Canard au Porto (duck liver mousse with port wine) is one of the best you can buy in the U.S. It sells for $ 13.90 a pound at Sam’s in Chicago. But you find many of their products at Binny’s, Whole Foods, etc. and they even sell a very decent truffled mousse (pork and duck), again without any chemical preservatives, in small plastic terrines at Trader Joe’s for only $ 5.69. It’s certainly the best value-oriented French charcuterie item money can buy this side of the Atlantic.

SAM's sells, among several items, a Pâté de Campagne for $ 11.99 a pound, and I think it is very good, as well as a Mousse Royale au Sauternes, also good, for $ 14.99 a pound. 

LES TROIS PETITS COCHONS moved their plant to Pennsylvania, keeping their headquarters at 4223 1^st Avenue, Brooklyn , N.Y, 11232 Tel: 212-219-1230 e-mail: elodie@3pigs.com

Their website (www.3pigs.com) is presently in a stage of reconstruction.

Their main distributor in the Midwest is once again European Imports in Chicago. ( 2475 N. Elston Ave. Chicago, IL 60647 tel: 773-227-0600 Website: www.eiltd.com )

The story of Josette Leblond, another French expatriate in the Los Angeles area, is another fine example of French entrepreneurship in the French charcuterie business in the U.S..

The daughter of a French charcutier in Normandy and an apprentice in her father’s shop since her youth, she butchered her first pig at age 7 on her family farm

She later took over her father’s business and in 1981 added another trade to her professional experience by making bread and starting a ‘’boulangerie’’. She eventually sold both businesses and went on a vacation in the United States with her young son. She loved L.A and decided to live there. The French chef of the Queen Mary, docked in Long Beach, hired her as a cook. That is when she started making beautiful pâtés and foie gras. A local distributor started to sell them and she created her own business NORMANDIE PATE in 1985. It became a big commercial success. At one point she was selling around 60 different kinds of pâtés, many being her own creations, to grocery stores and restaurants as well as taking phone orders from customers of that region. In1988 she was managing a 12,000 sq.ft plant in LA. She added a bakery business and sold baked goods and charcuterie to most of the big hotels including Disneyland’s, fancy department stores, and international airlines from her NORMANDIE company, now a multi-million dollars business.

Eventually her core business evolved towards bakeries and small restaurants. She owns several of them in Los Angeles and in Las Vegas where she moved in 2001. She still manages all these companies from there but her main activity is her famous Josette’s Bistro on Flamingo Boulevard in Vegas. 

Obviously one of the companies of NORMANDIE still produces pâtés, since her distributor GOURMET FOODS in Rancho Dominguez, CA, Tel: 310-632-3300

www.gourmetfoodsinc.com sells an enormous line of pâtés according to its website. And they look gorgeous.

I never found any of the NORMANDIE pâtés in Chicago, and I regret it because I love that French woman story. One of these days, if I go to Vegas, I certainly will make a refueling stop at Josette's Bistro. 

Back to early eighties, once again in San Francisco, the owner of several local restaurants, La Bourgogne, Ernie’s and l’Etoile, started a small charcuterie in San Mateo so he could supply his own eating establishments with fresh authentic French charcuterie. A French company called SAPAR, that had been making very sophisticated pâtés in Meaux, France, since 1920, purchased that ‘’charcuterie’’ which was named FABRIQUE DELICES.

In 1985 SPAR sent two French guys, Marc Poinsignon and Antonio Pinheiro, a Portuguese immigrant and a professional charcutier who started as an apprentice in France at age 14, to be respectively CEO and plant Manager of FABRIQUE DELICES in San Francisco. Both became partners and bought Fabrique Délices in 1986 from Sapar and developed it rapidly. They moved to a new plant to Hayward, on the East side of the Bay, in 2002.

They kept 90 % of the original French traditional recipes and secured the best producers of raw meat products even going all the way to the Hudson Valley for certain types of duck. They also created products that would better fit the specific demand of their local Californian market and of their distributors nation-wide (low-cal, vegetarian, etc). They also had to adjust to the way American meat purveyors cut their carcasses and prepare the cuts, which is quite different from what is done in France. The characteristics and structures of animal fat are also different.

But as much as possible they always try to produce all-natural charcuterie and to limit the use of preservatives to very few specialty sausages.

And they rightly define their company as making ‘’charcuterie artisanale’’

Their line of fresh and dry sausages is great and they make all the classics: Toulouse, Morteau, Andouillette, Boudin blanc and noir (blood sausage), Merguez, and a beautiful ‘’saucisson sec’’ that is the best of its kind I have ever tasted in the U.S.

Their pâtés and mousses are also ''First class'', including a garlic sausage en croûte, duck rillettes, and pâté en croûte. Unfortunately I never had a chance to taste their pâtés en croûte that are not sold, as far as I know, in California's farmer's market nor in Chicago.

FABRIQUE DELICES also makes all kinds of mousses, galantines and pâtés from pheasant, duck, goose, venison etc.

They offer a line of prepared food like cassoulet as well as dried and cured meat.

They sell to distributors, restaurants, airlines, caterers, gourmet food stores, all over North, Central, and South America as well as in Asia. And of course to many Internet purveyors of gourmet foods, as well as directly from their own website: www.fabriquedelices.com

Their references go from the Concorde Service on Air France to the White House .

 I have no problems finding a few of their pâtés in retail stores in Chicago, such as WHOLE FOODS,where I bought good duck liver mousse with Port wine for $ 14.99 a pound and duck rilletes for $24.99 a pound. I thought that the rillettes were a bit overpriced and that their texture was much too fine, not as ''rustic'' as they should be. You can also buy a decent Pork and Chicken Pate with pistachios, and a Pate Provencal based on Pork meat ($ 14.99 and $12.99 a pound).

I also found some rabbit and prunes pâté for $ 14.99 a pound, and Pâté forestier for $13.99 a pound at Binny's

But unfortunately, most of their other attractive sausages and pâtés or the cassoulet have to be ordered in quantities too large for a 2-person family. And that would be a very expensive proposition. Fabrique Délices is very good but not cheap.

They also sell on the web through www.igourmet.com

 But my favorite place to buy their products remains on their own booths in farmers markets in the Bay area.

1610 Delta Court Unit 1, Hayward, CA 94544 Tel: 510-441-9500

I cannot end this gallery of French expatriates who became successful entrepreneurs in the U.S in the field of fancy food and charcuterie without telling you the story of Ariane Daguin, the owner of D'ARTAGNAN, who will always be remembered as the woman who was perhaps the most influential person in the U.S in making Foie Gras the gastronomic and social phenomenon it became over the last 20 years.

Ariane is the daughter of André Daguin the famous chef and ‘’propriétaire’’ of the renowned Michelin 2 stars restaurant Hotel de France in Auch, the capital of the département of Gers, in Gascony, well-known for its multiple ways to prepare ‘’foie gras’’, the typical specialty of that particular area.

When she was barely 10 years old Ariane was already helping in that famous kitchen working on all aspects of making foie gras and other duck pâtés and terrines, and learning all the tricks of the trade, including deboning the birds and cooking their fat and meat.

But for unknown reasons she left that cozy cocoon and flew to the U.S to attend classes at Columbia University. While she was there she worked in a French charcuterie in New York City. Once a farmer from the Hudson Valley stopped by that shop and brought with him a whole fresh foie gras from one of the ducks he raised. That was a revelation. She was totally surprised by the quality of that American product and decided to not only distribute the foie gras from Commonwealth Farms but to start a company with a French friend who, like her, quit his job and invested his savings in that venture. That company, D’ARTAGNAN, the name of the famous ‘’mousquetaire (musketeer) from Gascony’’, was started in 1985.

Ariane and her partner decided eventually to go their separate ways and she bought back his shares. D’ARTAGNAN established its reputation first as a top producer and distributor of fresh and cooked foie gras in the U.S..

Later it also became a well-established purveyor of all kinds of relatively exotic meats, most of them organic, cured and smoked, from game bird, free range poultry, to rabbit, as well as venison, lamb, beef, pork, and later truffles, wild mushrooms, and condiments. She also got involved in making and selling various ‘’ charcuterie’’ products made from pigs, ducks, geese, and other meats, such as confits, terrines, patés, sausages, etc.

She developed special business and personal relationships with independent farmers, cattle raisers, and sustainable producers of pigs, and sometimes their unions or co-ops, all over the United States and encouraged them to increase the quality of their animals and of their feed.

You can buy D’ARTAGNAN’s pâtés, terrines, confits, and sausages either from gourmet food stores (none in Chicago unfortunately, as far as I know), distributors, and on line on their own website: www.dartagnan.com , as well as on other gourmet websites.

In Chicago, it is difficult nowadays to find D'ARTAGNAN sausages and pâtés in retail stores. It seems that she may prefer to sell directly to the trade.

Nervertheless not too long ago you could find her Saucisson sec at Binny's for $ 15.99 a pound.

D’ARTAGNAN INC. 280 Wilson Avenue Newark, NJ 07105 Tel: 800-37-8246

2. French charcuterie found on various Internet websites

 

I also found a very complete line of charcuterie products from a brand called TERROIRS d’ANTAN’’ U.S.A. They do not have their own website, and do not seem to be imported from France, something that would be difficult anyway considering the import restrictions from the FDA.

But I found several fine and gourmet food purveyors that sell their products on their website.

MARKY’S (www.emarkys.com ), GOURMET FOODSTORE (www.gourmetfoodstore ), CAVIAR & MORE (www.caviarmore.com ), sell the following products from that mysterious company, that ‘’might’’ be located in Santa Barbara, CA.:

Pâté de campagne forestier, Duck rillettes, Duck foie gras mousse, Duck confit, Duck breast, Duck fat, Duck liver mousse, French country pork pâté with black peppers, French truffle mousse, French hazelnut Cognac Pâté, French garlic sausage, Boudin blanc, Boudin noir, Merguez, Andouillette, Saucisse de Toulouse, Duck and Pork galantine with pistachios, Goose and duck liver mousse, and many others. MARKY’s has the largest selection

of their products. But I have never seen any of them in Chicago.

Another site, www.frenchselections.com sells some ‘’Pâté du Périgord’’, Cassoulet Toulousain, Duck pâté, Duck mousse, and Foie gras, made in Quebec by a company called PALME d’OR. The prices look attractive.

Bon appétit Stéphane. I cannot wait to go again with you to the farmer`s markets in MountainView and Los Altos to buy some of these ''bonnes choses'' I just mentioned. I wish we could find them at our own farmer`s markets in Chicago.