Freedom Fries and Cafe Creme

by Jocelyne Rapinac

  My parents had passed away, my brother lived in Singapore, and I was not that close to the rest of my relatives. Besides a need to honour my parents and enjoy the memories of my childhood, Antoine was the main reason I came back here. My good friend Delphine had come to see me in Chicago and was hoping to do so again soon.

  I was not planning to return again for another four or five years. Regrettably I felt I’d done with Burgundy for a while: the cold reality of life there today meant that it was difficult for me to recapture my idyllic childhood, even for a short time.

  Julie’s Choice of Recipes from Gégé’s Culinary Repertoire

  Terrine Maison (Cold Meatloaf)

  Serves 6.

  500g chicken livers, cleaned and sliced

  ½ cup (125ml) port

  500g sausagemeat

  200g black pudding, diced

  2 shallots, finely chopped

  1 egg, at room temperature, beaten

  1 tsp each finely chopped fresh thyme and sage

  ½ tsp each sea salt, ground black pepper and grated nutmeg

  1 tbsp duck fat, goose fat or lard

  12 rashers unsmoked streaky bacon

  2 bay leaves

  1. Place the livers in a non-metallic bowl, pour over the port and leave to marinate for at least 4 hours in the fridge.

  2. Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/Gas 4. In a large bowl, combine the marinated livers with the sausagemeat, black pudding, shallots and beaten egg. Add the herbs, salt, pepper and nutmeg and mix thoroughly.

  3. Grease a 9 x 5 in (23 x 12.5cm) loaf tin or ceramic terrine with the fat, then line with 8 rashers of bacon. Spoon in the meat. Lay the remaining bacon rashers on top and finish with the bay leaves. Cover with foil. Place the loaf tin inside a roasting tin and pour in hot water halfway up the sides of the loaf tin (this is a bain-marie). Bake for 1½ hours. Remove the foil and bake for a further 30 mins. Let the terrine cool in the turned-off oven. Pour off any excess juices (these can be added to a risotto).

  4. Refrigerate the terrine for at least 6 hours before carefully turning out and slicing. Serve with gherkins, pickled onions, olives and pain de campagne. It will keep for a week in the fridge.

  Fromage Blanc en Faisselle à la Crème et Pommes de Terre en Robe des Champs (Creamy Fromage Blanc with potatoes boiled in their skins)

  If you cannot find fromage blanc en faisselle (soft cheese packed in its own strainer), quark can be used instead as the centrepiece of the dish. Serves 4.

  8–12 small waxy potatoes

  ½ cup (120ml) crème fraîche

  3 tbsp chopped fresh chives

  1 shallot, finely chopped

  2 tbsp chopped flat-leaf parsley

  2–3 tbsp milk

  sea salt and ground black pepper

  1 x 500g pot faisselle fromage frais or 2 x 250g pots quark

  1. Cook the unpeeled potatoes in salted boiling water until tender. Drain and cool until lukewarm, then peel but leave them whole.

  2. In a bowl, combine the crème fraîche with 2 tbsp chives, the shallot and parsley, adding enough milk to thin to the consistency of double cream. Season, to taste.

  3. Strain the faisselle fromage frais and place in the centre of a serving dish (if using quark, mix the two packs together and place in a bowl in the centre of the serving dish). Pour the crème fraîche mixture over the cheese, sprinkle with the remaining 1 tbsp chopped chives and arrange the potatoes around the edge of the plate. Serve with sourdough or pain de campagne.

  October

  What a Spicy Treat!

  ‘Life is so brief that we should not glance either too far backwards or forwards … so we must learn how to fix our happiness in our glass and in our plate.’

  Alexandre Balthazar Laurent Grimod de la Reynière, 1758–1837,

  financier and fermier général

  Through the wide-open window, as far as the eye could see, were multitudes of trees luxuriantly covered in the sizzling colours of the Indian summer. Leaning out into the delicious warmth of the early afternoon, Charlotte suddenly yearned to dive into the tempting piles of fallen leaves. She wanted to melt into their balmy softness. Beyond, the ocean was spotless and bright, and the sky so blue: the kind of striking contrast of colours only New England in autumn could offer.

  This was a special day for lost souls. For her first Hallowe’en in the States, Charlotte felt very spiritual. The college campus was very quiet. Most of the students had already left for the weekend to celebrate Hallowe’en with their friends in Salem and Boston.

  Charlotte was going to a fancy-dress party that evening. Kathy had gone to pick up the surprise outfits she’d chosen. But, looking at the little clock on the wall, Charlotte saw she had a good hour before she needed to get ready.

  Allez, hop! she told herself. She put on her tracksuit, a hat and some sunglasses. Taking the golden cardboard box reserved for special occasions, she left her room, eager to drink in as much of the splendour of this gorgeous day as she could.

  She arrived at her secret spot overlooking the ocean, which was deserted as usual. The huge oak tree seemed to be especially welcoming, a little breeze whispering to her in its canopy, its golden leaves floating down with magical artistry. Had some spirit taken it over on this auspicious day? Charlotte loved this tree, and that afternoon, more than ever, it seemed to have a soul. The trees nearby were very lush, their brilliant colours reminding Charlotte of Fauvist paintings, but the oak tree was special. Charlotte lay down and rolled joyfully in the blanket of leaves. With a big smile on her face, she breathed deeply the aromas of Mother Nature. If this was happiness, then Charlotte was very happy entirely on her own.

  ‘Well, Romain, sorry to say it, but I don’t miss you at all!’ she giggled.

  Romain had broken up with her – well, fine. It was for the best since it had meant she’d made up her mind to go abroad for a year. Sure, he had exquisite manners, and money – and her mother had loved him for that, and still expected Charlotte to go back to him when she returned home – but now Charlotte felt more comfortable with the hospitable tree than she ever had with self-obsessed Romain. It would be a long time before she fell for anyone else’s charms.

  Leaning back against the massive trunk, she opened the golden cardboard box, her taste buds already tingling. She inhaled, and found the smell of the chocolates was as intoxicating as the beauty of the autumn day. The previous afternoon Charlotte had made a huge batch of these chocolate orangettes, using a recipe given to her by her grandmother Pauline.

  Charlotte was very fond of chocolate. She’d discovered, too, that any orange-coloured food – citrus fruits, mangoes, carrots, sweet potatoes, pumpkins and smoked salmon – put her in a good mood. The warmth and vibrancy of orange was to her a source of stimulation and energy.

  While the sweets were melting slowly in her mouth she started humming a song exactly in keeping with the special ambience of the moment.

  ‘Rêve orange, la, la, la, la, la …’

  Then she raised her head to look at the clear blue sky, and started drinking in the sight of the leaves raining down from her beloved tree.

  She sat there for a while lost in a sensual dream, where everything seemed to be intensely orange. Eventually, the golden cardboard box was almost empty. She was falling asleep …

  ‘Charlotte! Charlotte! Hi there!’

  Kathy’s loud, high-pitched voice woke Charlotte abruptly, bringing her back to reality, especially when she saw the huge and ridiculous costume Kathy was holding over her head.

  ‘I knew you’d be here …’ Only Kathy knew about Charlotte’s secret spot.

  ‘No way!’ Charlotte exclaimed. ‘I’ll never wear it. You must be joking!’

  ‘Hey, Frenchy, last year it was me in the pumpkin outfit. It’s your turn now, and when you hear what the theme of the party is, you’ll understand why this will suit you down to the ground.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘And look, I found this very cute black beret for the French to
uch,’ said Kathy, in an exaggeratedly bad French accent.

  She’s obviously having fun at my expense, Charlotte thought.

  ‘I can’t wait to see my little Frenchy pumpkin!’ Kathy laughed.

  ‘I’m not going …’

  And that’s that!

  Kathy, a tarty-looking witch dressed in black and orange, and Charlotte, a large smiling pumpkin with huge dark Betty Boop eyes, and wearing a black beret, drove to Cambridge in Kathy’s car. In the end it had been, ‘Either you come and experience your first Hallowe’en party, but you have to wear this costume, or you stay home.’

  Charlotte had made her choice: at least she wouldn’t know anyone at the party, so who else would care how ridiculous she looked?

  While strolling through the pretty neighbourhood from the car to Kathy’s friend’s house, they both admired the elaborate Hallowe’en decorations outside so many of the houses. Then Charlotte remembered the comic-strip hero little Linus van Pelt, with his resolute belief in the Great Pumpkin, and immediately felt better about her costume. She loved that story, that ability to believe in something despite what others thought, and sometimes wished she was more naïve herself.

  Suddenly the girls were stopped by a group of children.

  ‘Trick or treat!’

  Although Charlotte couldn’t see anyone as innocent-looking as the characters from Peanuts, like little Linus, she was thrilled to be plunged into a proper Hallowe’en experience, and, smiling, she assessed the five monsters: a tiny Frankenstein’s creature, two miniature Draculas, a chubby Cruella, and a petite queen who looked like Snow White’s stepmother.

  ‘Trick or treat!’ the children repeated, and they evidently really meant it!

  Suddenly Charlotte felt a wave of panic as she realised that she had no sweets to give them. She turned to Kathy, and was relieved to see she was laughing, as she took a paper bag out of her handbag and gave it to the trick-or-treaters.

  They thanked her, and the boldest of them, the tiny Frankenstein’s creature, said loudly, ‘We love your costumes! Never saw anything like them before! What are your names?’

  After Kathy and Charlotte had told them, the cute wicked stepmother said, ‘I think, like, I get it about the pumpkin, but what about the witch in black and orange?’

  ‘It’s because the party we’re going to has a colour theme: black and orange. We’re bringing food in the same colours,’ said Kathy, and the girls showed the children what they’d made: chocolate orangettes, and a carrot and blood-orange salad with black olives.

  ‘Sounds yummy,’ said the chubby little Cruella, though the others didn’t seem convinced by the dishes.

  After warm goodbyes, the two unlikely groups went their separate ways. Charlotte and Kathy nodded to a couple of women who they guessed were the mothers of the little monsters. Kathy explained that if children went out trick-or-treating nowadays, it was rarely without their parents in tow.

  ‘You should have seen your face when the kids said, “Trick or treat”,’ she added, laughing.

  ‘Well, it’s my first time – we didn’t celebrate Hallowe’en in France when I was a child,’ explained Charlotte.

  ‘Hallowe’en wouldn’t make sense in France anyhow,’ said Kathy. ‘Not like here …’

  ‘People do celebrate Hallowe’en in France now, believe it or not: even if nobody knows the meaning of it, it’s becoming a way to sell even more junk in our consumerist society.’

  Charlotte smiled then, her mood lightening, because she felt a little less ridiculous in her heavy costume since the children had liked it.

  In Lyons, she would never have dared go out wearing such an absurd outfit – especially with uptight Romain – but over here no one seemed to judge people by their physical appearance, a strong point in favour of America, where she’d been living for a couple of months. Why, there was an elderly couple coming towards them now, dressed like the stars of The Rocky Horror Show.

  Curiously, the beautiful day had turned into a foggy evening, creating the ideal atmosphere for spirits from beyond the grave to come out and visit living souls. Charlotte felt a slight chill running up and down her spine, as if she were little Scout walking back home in her ham costume in the strangeness of the night, except that she was a pumpkin with a black beret on.

  But she quickly forgot about the spooky night once she and Kathy reached the house. Straight away, they were plunged into the party atmosphere, where strange-looking carrot-coloured witches, skeletons and other diabolical creatures welcomed them cheerfully and danced to samba music.

  Charlotte started dancing right away, swept up in the festive mood, even forgetting about her uncomfortable costume, despite Kathy, still at her side, having another laugh at her friend’s expense.

  Everything really was black and orange … The afternoon spent surrounded by the glorious autumn colours now seemed a good omen for the evening ahead. There were spotlights illuminating the dancers, beautiful decorations – most of them carved pumpkins and garlands – and, of course, the food: black corn chips, black beans, seaweed and cuttlefish-ink pasta salad, caviar canapés, black olive tapenade, molasses bread, blackberry pies, dark chocolate cakes. And for the orange: dips, chips, Cheddar cheese, canapés with smoked salmon, salads – like Kathy’s, made of carrots and blood oranges, or with cold chicken curry and saffron rice – stuffed squashes, pumpkin and apricot pies, and candies. Someone was also making cocktails.

  ‘Paul and Melina always give the best ever Hallowe’en parties, as it’s Melina’s birthday too,’ Kathy explained.

  Charlotte thought the two-colour buffet was a great success. The black enhanced the orange, which glowed tempting and luminous to stimulate the appetites of the guests. The table was groaning, and suddenly she realised she was very hungry. Kathy was outside by then, smoking cigarettes with some of her friends, and Charlotte decided not to wait for her.

  Making her choice took a while, since she really wanted to try everything, though that would have been impossible. Eventually she helped herself, piling food on two plates: one for the canapés, salads, side dishes and bread, the other for desserts. Melina, with a creepy-looking spider on her head, made the special cocktail of the evening for her.

  Then Charlotte had to find somewhere quiet to sit down. She certainly couldn’t eat standing up like most of the people were doing, and she wanted to get rid of her costume, in order to appreciate her dinner more fully.

  After searching for a vacant seat, trying to walk carefully through the crowd with her full plates and her glass of Hallowe’en Special cocktail, Charlotte simply couldn’t take it any more – she felt as if she was about to suffocate in her cumbersome pumpkin costume. She finally found a dark alcove at the back of the room that seemed to be an office area. She put her food and drink on a chair and, with some effort, started to take off her outfit.

  Aaaah! What a relief! Charlotte felt much better in just her black leotard and leggings after she’d shed the pumpkin costume. It felt good, too, to shake her long black curls free from the tight headband.

  Then the magic of the night really started. Having sipped her delicious Hallowe’en Special cocktail, she ate the exquisite food slowly, appreciating every bite. As long as she had tasty food on her plate and a delectable drink in her hand, she was happy.

  Who needs a man at a moment like this, especially a man like Romain?

  Every mouthful of the feast was completely delicious. She especially liked the cold chicken curry salad, which went so well with Kathy’s blood-orange and black olive salad.

  Charlotte had always been open to the delights of international food, or fusion cuisine, despite having grown up in an extremely traditional family that ate only hearty French dishes, typical bourgeois food. That had been good and wholesome, but Charlotte had soon acquired a taste for the more exotic.

  She stared at the flamboyantly dressed crowd, and saw that Kathy was flirting outrageously with a big black and orange cat that looked like Garfield.

 
But what about her long-time boyfriend in California? thought Charlotte. Oh, well, it’s none of my business …

  The big difference between the two friends was that Kathy couldn’t live without a man by her side, and Charlotte could, or was trying to convince herself that she could.

  The beat of the music was irresistible, and Charlotte began dancing while still seated, having put the cleared plates to one side. Holding her almost empty glass of Hallowe’en Special cocktail, she moved her legs and arms with sensuous grace to the rhythm of a merengue.

  She had had a wonderful day. And feeling just a little tipsy, she even had the impression that she looked pretty fabulous!

  This also seemed to be the opinion of the young man sitting at the back of the small alcove, in the darkest corner. He had been watching with delight: firstly, the pumpkin’s striptease; and secondly a very attractive – and curvy – young woman really enjoying her food and drink!

  This young man had always thought that there was nothing more sensual than a beautiful woman eating with real appetite. The best thing was that she was completely unaware of him sitting alone in the darkness of the office.

  Ready for another cocktail, Charlotte got up to go to the bar. But before she could move away, she heard something behind her.

  ‘Hi there!’

  She was so surprised that she froze for a few seconds. Then she turned round. Her gaze met two brown eyes right in front of her, sparkling with humour.

  ‘Where did you appear from?’

  ‘Du fin fond des ténèbres …’ he said with a fake scary voice.

  ‘Of course, from the world of darkness,’ said Charlotte. ‘So you speak French?’

  ‘Je suis de Québec. Melina told me you’re from France, n’est-ce pas?’

  ‘Have you been here long?’ Charlotte asked instead of answering, realising with embarrassment that he might have seen her dancing on her chair.