Happy New Year from ARAD

New and interesting posts are soon to come on topics such as:

-strange old buildings of Poitiers

-gluten-free in Poitiers

-weekending in Bordeaux

In the mean time, we're starting the new year off the right way...

(long-haired and in love)

French Cyclocross

The weather has been better than expected here, at least better than we'd been led to believe. For the last week, the sun has come out for a few hours almost everyday and I have been taking advantage with frequent bike rides. On Saturday I took a favorite route west from Poitiers through Sanxay, Vasles, Latillé, and Montreuil-Bonnin. The route is notable for its smooth roads, relatively flat terrain, and low traffic. While passing through Latillé, I noticed signs for a cyclocross race the following day at the nearby Chateau de la Chèze.

I was hoping for good weather so I could compare the French version of cyclocross with the race I saw in Chicago. Of course, cyclocross is more interesting in adverse weather (think sharp, slippery turns, limited visibility, and lots of mud), but in order to watch I needed to ride my bike the 30 km to Latillé, something that would have been considerably less interesting in the rain. It turned out to be ideal: 50 degrees and mostly sunny.

Chateau de la Chèze was not hard to find. This is partly because Latillé is not very big, but also because, as soon as I got close, I could hear an announcer's voice booming from some loudspeakers.

The announcer was also the first thing I noticed that distinguished this French cyclocross race from the one in Chicago. He essentially never stopped talking during the 60 minute-race, and he reminded me less of a sports-commentator than an auctioneer. He was providing commentary at such a rapid pace (and at such volume) to the tiny crowd I couldn't help but laugh.

The race was situated on the grounds of the Chateau de la Chèze, which dates back to the seventeenth century (and was built on the site of an older castle), and the course was truly breathtaking. The ribbons and flags marking the course wound back and forth across the immense grounds, dipping into the valley and disappearing into the distance before winding back up the hill to the chateau.
There were nearly 60 competitors on the course, with multiple divisions competing simultaneously. The spectators seemed to be mostly friends and family; this was also true of the race in Chicago, probably because it takes an intimate knowledge of the cyclists to figure out who is competing with whom and who is winning which division.

Eventually, the speed of the announcements picked up, and I knew the race must be nearing a climactic end. The two leaders in the fastest division were within a few yards of each other as they went down into the valley for the last lap. As they approached the last turn before the straightaway along the water (look in the upper left quadrant of the above photo) they came upon a slower racer from a lower division. The leader was held up momentarily waiting for his chance to pass, then when there was finally room, the cyclist chasing him jumped into the gap and passed both the leader and the lower division cyclist. He held that tenuous lead for the next kilometer and took the win!

It was a pretty exciting finish and satisfying close to my first French cyclocross experience. And then, after the race, as I was preparing to head home, I noticed this little cute bike-wash station near the castle wall:

Very civilized!

You can't win 'em all...

As evidenced by our recent run of "nyah-nyah" posts, we have been perpetually surprised by the tastiness of things that we've never tried before: duck fat, foie gras, roasted beets, cured donkey sausage (not to be confused with ass sausage--see below), vin chaud, and aged goat cheese among other things. But we feel it is our duty, dear Reader, to admit that we've had some failures, too. Yes, we have tried a few things that someone with decorum would describe as "acquired tastes" (ones we have clearly not yet acquired).

The first of the missteps occurred when Jeff went to the grocery store looking for sausage for a meal of hors d'œuvre. Occasionally, we make a whole meal out of grazing on assorted cured sausages, cheeses, roasted beets, fresh pears and apples, cornichons, artichoke hearts, french bread (for Jeff), and corn cakes (for Rebecca). So, Jeff decided to get some andouille sausage. The concentric circles made it looked a little different than the cajun andouille he had seen back home, but always the adventurous fellow, he got it anyway.

He brought the sausage home and opened it, and was immediately struck with a strange smell....a vaguely barnyard smell. And as anyone who has visited a barnyard knows, the main component of this smell is manure; pig manure in this case (North Carolinians will appreciate the special nastiness associated with the smell of pig farms). Turns out French andouille (specifically the andouille de Guémené that Jeff bought) is made entirely of *gags* pig intestines and rectums; this would be called chitterlings sausage in the U.S. In any case, the smell was unsettling, and only got worse when he tried to cook it. I opted not to have any.

Jeff has tried his share of offal, from chicken gizzards and sheep's head, to sweetbreads, and cow tongue (including delicious cow-tongue tacos in Chicago), but this was a little much. In a final blow to his ego, we discovered that andouille also means 'fool' in French.

Another recent mishap concerned an impetuous decision to buy a bottle of soupe de poissons (puréed fish soup) from the Saturday market. I remember eating something like this back when I was in France as a tweenager. I remember it tasting good, kind of like a French version of New England clam chowder. So I persuaded Jeff (who, despite his aforementioned adventurousness, is always a little tentative when it comes to things of the sea because of his land-locked upbringing) to buy this:

We decided to heat it up, and to add leeks, carrots, and spinach. Sounds pretty good, right? Well, it wasn't. It was VERY fishy, so fishy that Jeff "the Iron Stomach" was only able to eat a few bites. When someone says "something smells fishy," it was that kind of fishy.

It's a good thing I also made a cornbread to go with it or Jeff might have starved.

I'm still not exactly sure what went wrong with the soupe de poissons...should we have mixed it with something else? Maybe a strong soup base like cream of potato? Or something acidic like tomato? Well, the "leftovers" (can you call them "leftovers" if you didn't eat any to begin with?) are burning a hole through our fridge, so if anyone has any suggestions, speak now or we'll have to throw them out...

Le Vin Chaud

After trying glühwein in Germany, and becoming part of William's efforts to increase the visibility of vin chaud in Poitiers, we decided we needed to find out more about this winter beverage. While the Germans often add liquor to their glühwein, the French generally avoid this with vin chaud, perhaps with good reason. There is some risk associated with consuming glühwein: we were warned that if you inhale through the nose while sipping (schnapps-fortified) glühwein, you are liable to gag, not a pleasant thought.

While vin chaud is not available for consumption at the market due to problems with teen alcohol consumption (though it is available in bottles at ambient temperature), nearly all the local restaurants have their own version for sale. In order to complete our study of vin chaud in time (vin chaud dies out soon after Christmas) we started by concocting our own batch.


Attempt #1:
1 bottle Beaujolais red wine
water
grated nutmeg
Cloves
powdered cinnamon
orange slices
sugar

We added all the ingredients except sugar and brought to a boil (whoops) because now that our stove is fixed, it heats up unexpectedly fast. Everything boiled for too long and it turned out a little bitter. We had to add more sugar than we would have like to make it palatable. We decided we needed to do a little more research.

Perhaps one of the local restaurants could help, so we headed over to La Gazette (which has the same owner as La Serurrerie). The vin chaud came in glass mugs with orange slices, cinnamon sticks and (to our surprise) also came with star anise. The flavor was excellent, subtle and not too sweet. Armed with this knowledge we returned to the kitchen.

Attempt #2
Ingredients:
1 bottle Haut-Poitou (local) red wine
250ml water
cloves
1 tbl. vin chaud spice mix we picked up at the outdoor market (cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg)
cinnamon stick
star anise
one packet of orange flavored black tea
sugar

We heated the wine/water mixture along with the star anise and spice mix until just under boiling. Then we removed the star anise and added the remaining ingredients except the sugar and let the whole mixture steep for 20 minutes. Finally, we added sugar to taste. It was fantastic, the orange tea gave it a very nice flavor and was soothing on the throat, and the anise was also a great addition. Armed with this success, we went to see the expert: William.

A sign at Le Fruit Defendu: "We support VCPC--Mulled wine is not a crime"

We had to stop by Le fruit defendu to pick up wine to go with our gourmet weekend meals (First, Seafood and Chicken Paella, followed by Braised oxtails w/ Spanish chorizo). We queried him to see if we were missing any secret ingredients, and apparently we were not. He promised he would send us some recipes from some "trusted friends," and we will see if there are any procedural changes we can make to improve things further. But until then, tonight's iteration:

Attempt #3
Ingredients:
1 bottle Haut-Poitou (local) red wine
300ml water
zest of clementine
clementine sections
orange juice
cloves
cinnamon stick
star anise
one packet of orange flavored black tea
1 tbl. aforementioned spice mix (cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg blend)
sugar

Combine first 8 ingredients and heat. Once the mixture is hot, add the tea and spice mix, and let steep for 10 minutes. Add sugar to taste.

Update:
The seafood paella and accompanying wine (above and left, respectively) turned out wonderfully. The third iteration of the vin chaud turned out ok. We are eagerly awaiting William's recipes and will probably also try Kristi's suggestion of mixing wine and cider. American style cider is hard to find here; the cider here is mostly carbonated & alcoholic which bears only a passing resemblance to the cider sold at apple orchards in the U.S. We are open to other suggestions (even from our readers in Ukraine and Austria)... let us know!

Noël...

Hearing about the first snowfall in Illinois has made me miss snow a little bit. I still have some heavy-duty winter clothes I haven't been able to wear yet here in Poitiers. But then, a winter weather advisory for Chicago brought me back to reality.

So, there's no snow, and the ice rink in front of L'Hotel de Ville (City Hall) melts once in a while, but it could be worse. Since the weather does not seem especially Christmasy, the town has done its best to put everyone in the holiday mood. There is an outdoor Christmas Market (with rides and ice rink) in front of L'Hotel de Ville, and most of the shops were open this past Sunday despite the French ban on opening on Sunday.

The shops along the street where we live seem to be doing pretty good business (what recession?). However, to prevent you from having to go home periodically to do those daily, mundane things (like listening to Christmas music, eating sugary gluten, or riding your pony), the town has cheerfully provided these amenities to improve your shopping experience.

As we mentioned a few weeks ago, there are speakers playing Christmas music conveniently located every 100 ft or so along the pedestrian streets where most of the shops are located.

The speaker is the cylinder hanging just under the right side of the balcony.

There are also vendors on nearly every corner selling "Chi-Chis" (also called "Churros"--long thin crispy batons of dough), along with pretty much anything else you can put Nutella on: waffles, crêpes, and doughnuts (which they call "beignets," but bear little resemblance to New Orleans-style beignets). Jeff decided to opt for a crêpe with "chocolat maison" (house chocolate--a darker, less sweet blend than Nutella)

and Rebecca (who is gluten-free) had to be content just to watch as they were being made.

And, for the adults, in case the kids get too much Nutella and can't stand still, they can ride around on one of those donkeys (or pygmy horses?--any animal experts reading?), spin around on the carousel, or fall down on the ice for a while until they calm down.


Another crucial component of the French holiday season--especially for the adults--is vin chaud (mulled wine); vin chaud is so important in fact, that we will be dedicating an entire post to the topic...

so, until then, stay warm and stay tuned.