Notre Gâteau Chocolat

Today was Mardi Gras, literally “fat Tuesday.” This was the last day before le Carême (Lent) begins. Forty days of wandering through the desert of introspection, with a hope of being spiritually renewed upon the arrival of Paques (Easter) and the heralding of printemps (spring).

In some perverse way, I happen to enjoy Lent. I like it better than Christmas. It seems that forced contemplation and deprivation suit me. Nonetheless, in preparation for my suffering forty days of wandering through the wilderness of my soul, I also enjoy the festivity and gluttony of Mardi Gras!

So, this year it seemed especially fitting that Emily and I prepare a decadent gateau chocolat from an authentic French family recette. The task was rather daring, as we set out to make the cake “au pif” using a combination of instructions from Kristin Espinasse’s blog posting of the famille Espinasse recette and some varying written advice received directly from the source.

I was told that only the Lindt marque Dessert Le 70% Cacao and Beurre de baratte demi-sel à la fleur de sel de Guérande would do for this special cake. I went to the Leclerc in Valreas yesterday afternoon, to find the magical ingredients. My outing met success, a clear indication that this mission was blessed. After dinner, Emily and I began the process.

The recette calls for a "bain-marie" and since our little summer vacation home is short on culinary equipment, I had to get creative. A small glitch, like the absence of a double-boiler was not going to hold us back. We fashioned one out of a big pot filled with hot water, by placing a large, rimmed bowl on top, containing our butter and chocolate. It worked like a charm and soon we had chocolat fondant.

Our next challenge came with the job of adding the eggs to the melted chocolate and butter without scrambling them. It took a cooperative effort, with Emily continually in motion, to get us to the finish line and to get the cake into the oven. Emily’s hard work, stirring as each of the five eggs was added, met a suitable reward: The exclusive right to lick the bowl!

Precisely twenty-two minutes later, the gâteau was removed from the oven and set on the windowsill to refroidir, in true French fashion. I busied myself washing the dishes and preparing the table for the decadent twenty-four hour binge that would follow. At 8:30 last night, our efforts were rewarded. The cake had sufficiently cooled and it came gracefully out of the moule in one piece, onto our waiting platter. We filled our glasses with ice-cold milk.

Emily decided to have her first slice in purist fashion and I chose to follow Kristin's advice, anointing the creation with crème Anglaise. We have continued to feast on this chocolate sin for more than twenty four hours; we both had chocolate cake for breakfast this morning! Luckily, there is no separation of church and state here in France, and so the children get Ash Wednesday off from school. We will go to a special children's service tomorrow morning at 10:30 in Vaison. With all this cacao and sucre pumping through our veins, there was no way we could get to sleep before 11:00 p.m. tonight. So we climbed into my bed with the lecteur de DVD portable and turned on a sweet movie, Christmas Child. Fat Tuesday is drawing to a close and my commitment to relinquish chocolate for forty days will soon begin; I wonder how much more of this rich extravagance I can consume before the stroke of midnight. I wander down to the kitchen on the pretext of making popcorn for the movie; I take one last morsel directly from platter to bouche, sans crème. As the movie ends and Emily drifts off to sleep, I reach for my laptop, to seize the memory of our first French Mardi Gras before I willingly and now completely prepared, drift into the wilderness of le Carême.

Notre Recherche d'Escargots

It was a dark and stormy August night....ok, so maybe it wasn't stormy, but it was dark! So dark in fact, that we huddled together carrying flashlights. As we tiptoed through Monsieur Gonfalone's jardin the excitement grew. Was it too early? Would we find them? If so, how many?
There had been a storm earlier in the day and the snails would likely be out en masse. They love the moisture and a good rain encourages them to move about and eat some fresh greens. I've enjoyed escargots all buttery and garlicky, in restaurants and there is something appealing to me about gathering them up, as fresh as can be, to recreate the French specialty in the kitchen of our gite.

Emily and I had a great time snail hunting during our two-week stay at the Gite de La Ferme De La Magdelaine. Although we found many, many snails each night, we did not capture and cook them. I have every intention of doing just that this spring and will write about the experience, now that I have been advised by some knowledgeable French gourmand that you can actually catch and eat these slimy suckers! My adviser told me to feed them lettuce for a day or so, and then purge them in salt water. He didn't know the specifics, so I went to Food Network, my trusty resource for all things edible and this is what I found:

If using fresh snails, follow the procedure below for cleaning and preparing the shells:
INGREDIENTS: 48 fresh snails in their shells; White vinegar; Salt; Dry white wine; 1 onion, coarsely chopped; 2 carrots, coarsely chopped; 1 stalk celery, coarsely chopped; 1 bouquet garni; 10 cloves garlic, mashed; Salt & Freshly ground black pepper

Allow snails to fast for at least 1 day. (I'm guessing this starts after you feed them on lettuce, for a day or two)

Rinse snails under cold running water and then transfer to a large bowl and cover with white vinegar and a handful of salt. Cover snails with a heavy plate to keep them submerged and allow them to purge for at least 3 hours. Rinse again under cold running water and clean thoroughly to remove all traces of mucous. Place snails in a small saucepan and cover with water. Boil for 10 minutes. Drain and remove snails from their shells. Transfer shells to another saucepan and cover with salted water and boil for at least 30 minutes. Remove shells from the water, clean thoroughly and let them dry completely before proceeding. Clean shelled snails again and remove the black part at the end of the tail. Place snails in a saucepan and cover with a mixture of half water and half dry white wine. Add onion, carrots, celery, bouquet garni, 10 cloves garlic, salt, and pepper. Partially cover saucepan and bring to a boil. Simmer for 2 hours, or until tender, and allow snails to cool in cooking liquid. Drain snails (discard poaching liquid) and pat snails dry. Proceed with recipe as directed.

Now, here is a great recipe for escargots from this part of France:

Escargots à la Provence Recipe courtesy Emeril Lagasse, 2000
Photo courtesy of The Food Network

5 tablespoons olive oil

1/4 cup chopped shallots

Salt and pepper

3 dozen fresh snails, purged and removed from the shell

1 tablespoon chopped garlic

1 cup dry white wine

4 tablespoons cold butter, cut into small pieces

1 cup aioli, recipe follows

1 cup fine dried bread crumbs

1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh parsley leaves

Loaf crusty French bread

In a large saute pan, over medium heat, add 2 tablespoons of the oil. When the oil is hot, add the shallots. Season with salt and pepper. Saute for 1 minute. Add the snails and garlic. Season with salt and pepper. Continue to saute for 1 minute. Add the wine and bring to a simmer. Cook for 10 minutes. Stir in the cold butter. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Remove the pan from the heat. Place the snails in the porcelain snail dishes. Spoon the liquid over each snail. Spoon a teaspoon of the aioli over each snail. In a small mixing bowl, combine the bread crumbs, parsley and remaining oil. Season with salt and pepper. Mix well. Sprinkle the bread crumb mixture over the aioli. Place the dishes on a baking dish and place on the top shelf of the oven. Broil for 2 minutes. Remove the pan from the oven and cool slightly. Serve the snails with French Bread and wine.

Aioli: 4 cloves garlic

2 egg yolks

Pinch salt

1 cup plus 2 tablespoons good olive oil
Place the garlic in a large mortar and crush. Add the eggs and incorporate. Season with salt. Slowly stir in the oil, a little at a time, until all of the oil is incorporated and the mixture is like a thick mayonnaise. Yield: about 1 cup

Escargots à la Provence Recipe, Courtesy Emeril Lagasse, 2000