Cheese

Michel Guerard: Heaven’s Delight for One More Night

by liz · Jun 4, 2011

As the pleasure of the Baker’s company had already begun its slow, steady decline, the town of Eugénie-les-Bains, in France’s southwest corner, just outside the French Basque region, came just in the nick of time.

This town has long been celebrated for its healing spring waters and tranquil valley setting, and as we coasted into town on a winding road lit golden by the late afternoon sun, I could see why thousands of people have been relaxing, easing their pains, and “taking the water” here for years.

Acclaimed chef Michel Guerard gives folks another reason to make the trek here to improve their health: cuisine minceur, a form of healthy cooking that Guerard invented. It’s basically cooking in a traditional French method, but with lower-calorie or higher-nutrition substitutions. Think fish steamed in a concentrated, fragrant spring vegetable broth instead of pan-fried in bread crumbs with butter. Fresh, light, satisfying and French are the defining words for Guerard’s unique, form-enhancing cuisine.

The town was simply beautiful, with one quiet road leading through the small valley floor. Small rock and sandy paths led off each side of the road into gardens and trees and old stone churches and houses. Water fountains, flowers, lawns of grass and pastel-painted shutters on the windows surrounded us as we pulled into La Maison Rose, the most affordable of Michel’s three lodgings in town, Les Pres d’Eugenie (which, with his two restaurants, seemed to take up one entire side of town).

I felt such relaxation and peace here that I began to drink in long, slow, deep breaths of the fresh spring air, and to feel slightly better about us. Hope was peeking through the French countryside, and we would dine well tonight!

The main house held the gourmet restaurant, while a simple restored farmhouse held Guerard’s rustic restaurant, La Ferme aux Grives — built to look like his childhood home, with food cooked over a fire in a big hearth in the main room like his mother used to cook. We chose the gourmet menu in the white and beige-colored dining room. It was the most beautiful and peaceful dinner setting I had ever seen! I could barely see any other diners for the nooks of tables and gorgeous flowers everywhere, and the waiters excelled in hushed voices and silent steps. Michel himself was also here, with a constant smile and a warm handshake.

The sun was setting and a warm breeze wafted in. I felt positively serene and agreeable to any story to come from the Baker’s mouth tonight. The wine certainly helped. And the first course was a mushroom soup, with a “cloud” and truffles on top, see above. Sigh.

Then steamed lobster with butter and herbs, plus duck breast and foie gras with a trio of citrus sauces. So delicious! And so light!

And, of course, his signature local fish with fresh spring vegetables and a fresh, savory consommé.

And the cheese course: gooey French cheeses are the best antidote to anything that ails you, including affairs of the heart.

The desserts were the best: this was a lemon soufflé with a brûlée top. Gorgeous on the plate and heaven in the mouth.

I love rhubarb (reminds me of both my Kansan grandmothers) and our menu happened to have a Festival of Rhubarb listed! What luck, to enjoy a plate of rhubarb tarts and pastries along with a baked bread pudding with rich, creamy rhubarb ice cream. It was a dream.

I was thankful and full and resigned. This elegant dinner would be our last real pleasure — our last act of kindness and love — and I would always remember it with a smile and a long, deep breath.

The Best Meal I Ever Ate: Etxebarri, the Grill Master & the Baker

by liz · Jun 1, 2011

I’d heard and read so much about Etxebarri from Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations (he also said it was the best meal of his life) to Chez Pim’s journey there, it was a must on my recent eating/drinking tour of northern Spain. Like Pim, I was grateful to get to eat at various starry restaurants on this trip, but this place doesn’t even have 1 star – quite possibly because the folks at the Michelen guide couldn’t find it.

Etxebarri is notoriously hard to find. The Baker and I had explicit directions in our guide book, which were as good as any, but didn’t show any distances or what the “turns” actually looked like. We also had a British GPS, but Jane/Gayle was a little crazy (as we drove on the freeway, going the correct way, she would suddenly direct us to take off onto the Spanish fields alongside). And, we had Pim’s post open on our laptop as well. And it actually took all 3 devices to get us to the tiny town of Axpe, right on time, after allowing double the driving time to allow for the Baker’s slow driving, and for getting lost.

Although the town was only 15 minutes from a bustling suburban area near San Sebastian, it felt as remote as Heidi’s mountains. A small cluster of stone buildings, sheep grazing in the mountain fields full of wildflowers, and mama sheep with babes in front of every small farm along the way had us wondering if we were in the right place.

And then we saw it! The typical Basque facade shown above looked over a tiny village square, awaiting our arrival, to fill our bellies with chef Victor Arguinzoniz’s grilled masterpieces until late in the afternoon. He is known for cooking with fire (like the Baker), over coals and wood, and for pairing different foods with the correct type of coal or wood that suits it best. He even makes his own coal to get the best pairing! This was going to be good.

First things first, we ordered a bottle of white wine called Txakolina to go with the seafood we would eat first on the tasting menu.

Then the amuse bouche arrived: Arguinzoniz’s famous house-made chorizo shown above and fire-baked bread.

The first course was handmade goat butter on grilled bread, topped with setas, spring mushrooms from the local hills, and charcoal salt.

Second course shown above was goose barnacles, something I’d never eaten before. We had to peel off a gray layer of interlocking fibers resembling fabric, which squirted orange ocean-flavored juice onto our table and eyeglasses, exposing the delicious neck of the crustacean.

Next up was grilled Palamós prawns, the best-tasting and largest prawns in the area. And the most beautiful I might add.

The next course was again something I’d never eaten: sea cucumber, shown above. These sea animals are related to sea urchin and starfish, but look a bit more like a slug. It tasted, however, more like a scallop, but meatier and tastier. This one was grilled and served with baby fava beans and a fava flower.

I was unprepared for the next dish to be the best of the day, grilled baby octopus served on a bed of onion confit and charcoal paste. Sweet and smoky and tender and so pretty too.

A classic Spanish dish, grilled anchovy, was next. This was perfectly cooked, barely seasoned and served with an arugula salad, shown above.

Next was grilled fresh chorizo on a polenta cake. This was seared; not cooked! It was really really good. We also ordered a Rioja Crianza to go with this and the next meat dish.

And finally, a glorious piece of grilled beef on the bone shown above. For a girl from Oklahoma, this was a fitting climax to the meal and also perfectly cooked.

The first of two desserts came next: fresh sheep’s cheese ice cream with a wild fruit infusion. This ice cream tasted like the strongest, sharpest sheep cheese..you know, the one that smells a bit like the Zoo? It was stinky and heavenly, and the wild fruit infusion played the perfect complement. I got to eat two portions since the pungency was too much for the Baker (he can dish it out, but can’t take it).

The last course was a Basque cake, torrija de pan y nuez (a cross between French toast and tres leches cake, if you can imagine that) served with smoked milk ice cream, shown above. This ice cream tasted like a vanilla, creamy campfire!

As the late afternoon started to wink at us through the trees, our happy bellies wanted nothing more than to take a long nap into the night. So, coffee was in order for the Baker and me, along with lovely muffin pastries, to make it to our next bedding destination after this four-hour indulgence in the Spanish mountains.

A perfect meal for a perfect day in Spain by the world’s Master of the Grill, Victor Arguinzoniz. Can’t wait to come back!

Strictly Raclette

by liz · Oct 1, 2009

During the two years I lived in Switzerland, I’d never heard the word “no” spoken so often and so eagerly. When crossing the street on early mornings against the walk light – and there is not a car to be seen – Swiss residents feel compelled to yell “Non! Non! Ce n’est pas possible!” At the post office, when you present some incorrect combination of change for your bill, you’ll hear “Tsk tsk” and “Non non” from the cashier, accompanied by an index finger waving. Other patrons will shake their head and mutter under their breath. And when sitting down to a traditional Swiss dinner, no other dish conjures up the word “no” more than raclette.

Raclette is a melted cheese dish that’s more delectable than fondue. It’s a semi-soft and quite funky cheese called raclette (from the French verb racler, to scrape). Traditionally, peasants would cut a wheel of raclette in half and put it in front of the fire until the top layer became melted and toasted. Then, this top layer was scraped onto a plate and the next layer was ready for melting. Today, there are raclette grills – table-top machines containing heating elements, like electric broilers, with cooking trays underneath. The raclette cheese comes pre-sliced for the trays and is set on the table along with cornichons (small French pickles), cocktail onions and little Dutch potatoes. Another favorite appetizer (entrée in French) or side is viande séchée – cured beef, similar to prosciutto. Dinner guests melt their own cheese in the machine at the table with these simple accompaniments, making this the second most popular cook-it-yourself dish in the country.

However, as the Swiss do, these alpine people have created such strict raclette rules as to almost take the joy out of eating it.

The first rule: no side dishes (or no grilling other foods on top of the raclette grill). The picture on the raclette machine’s box – and the recipe pamphlet inside – shows shiny shrimp, sharp white onions and long asparagus grilling on the top grill, even eggs cooking in the trays. But try preparing raclette this way for your Swiss friends, and you’ll hear an emphatic “Non! We do not eat raclette this way in Switzerland!” A finger will be wagging at you. They may even refuse to eat from a grill that cooks food other than raclette, like a gaggle of zealous cheesetarians. They are correct that raclette is delicious and hearty on its own, but topped with grilled onions and tomatoes served with shrimp and sweet-hot mustard on the side only heightens the flavors! And each time you cook a tray of bubbling, crusty cheese, you can create a different dish with a different combination of toppings. The possibilities are endless, and create opportunities for the dish to appeal to all kinds of eaters, allowing it to constantly evolve. This raclette is art.

Another rule: no water (or no drinks besides wine, beer or hot tea while eating raclette –and for two hours afterward). The argument is that anything besides these drinks will cause the raclette to congeal in your belly, committing you to the very painful process of passing a large ball of cheese the next day. If you ask for some water or another wrong drink (you’ll be thirsty, raclette is salty), Swiss servers will actually yell at you – “NON!” – for your stupidity, as if you want to deliver a cheese baby without an epidural. But, consider the amount of lubricating fat in the cheese, acids in your stomach and enzymes in your intestines – this is just plain science but don’t tell that to the Swiss. I’m happy to drink more wine to please the jovial watchmakers, who are glad you’re properly digesting all that cheese. Shooting kirsch is also highly recommended; they say it’s even better at aiding digestion!

Last rule: no empty trays. As soon as you scrape the hot cheese out of the tray, you must immediately fill it to be cooked again to crispy perfection while you eat. You are not allowed to stop cooking and leave the tray empty when you are no longer hungry….you must continue to cook cheese until the entire table agrees that the raclette is finished. Swiss servers and other diners will all yell at you for this one. It seems there’s no such thing as too much raclette.

Hey, some rules are made to be followed!

Wine Pairing: something crisp. The Swiss like to drink local, so different wine is drunk with raclette in each canton. But the most popular pairing is with Fendant, also called Chasselas grape. This is a high acid grape, which helps cut the buttery texture of the cheese and refresh your mouth. A light-bodied, high-acid red would also work, like a Burgundian Pinot Noir or Cru Beaujolais/Carbonic wine.