One of the things that Louis wanted to do on this holiday was try different foods. Don’t let that kid you into thinking that he isn’t a fussy eater. Believe me, like most children there’s plenty of pernickety-ness in evidence. Not only is there loads of stuff that he refuses to eat but his likes and dislikes change in tandem with his underpants. And that’s often whilst he’s living under my roof.
So, I’ve been stretching his gastronomic repertoire with mixed, and sometimes surprising, success. I thought he’d love florentines given that chocolate and nuts are among his staples but they were rejected. However the paté-like rillettes of scallops and red mullet, bought directly from a god-like producer whom I’d marry purely for his culinary skills even if he looked like Shrek (which he didn’t!), were hoovered u
p. Two varieties of nem from a street food stall
in Concarneau market went down a treat in spite of having been bought for my
own lunch. I suppose the cosmopolitan
out there will know that these are Vietnamese pancake rolls but such oriental
delights haven’t yet reached us straw
suckers from Devon. Chicken tikka massala is still quite a
And from the kitchen of Lovelygrey came pan fried duck breast fillets and then sauté potatoes cooked in the rendered fat the next day. Both of these got the thumbs up from my own little Egon Ronay. The one pot rabbit with tarragon, lemon andgarlic adapted from my Camper Van Cookbook by Martin Dorey, a charity shop find, wasn’t so well received. It’s featured in today’s picture that took just twenty minutes to download. We’re experiencing the frontiers of technology at this spot, I can tell you!
Now, I heartily beg to differ with my son. It was totally delicious even though I deviated from the original recipe, replaced shallots with sliced onions, added a carrot to boost our five a day count and found out that rosé, being all I had in the fridge, is perfectly acceptable for white as a cooking wine.
The French seem to have a much higher regard for this meat that isn’t common fayre for us Brits. It was much more expensive than I’d imagined that eating an animal, commonly regarded as vermin, would be. For grown ups out there who haven’t got an aversion to feasting on Bugs, Hazel, Thumper, Jessica and the rest of their mates I’d urge you rustle up this easily prepared pot of yumminess and try it for yourselves.