Several years ago, and I must say by some stroke of good fortune or perhaps that lucky star shining brightly in the north, my brothers, sisters and I all managed to find our way back to the family home in France, tucked away in a remote little village a bikeride away from the rugged but beautiful Brittany coast. It was a complex and coordinated logistical feat to make it happen that I’m sure rivaled preparations for the D-Day invasion. We had all gathered in this special place to celebrate the holidays, perhaps for the last time.
I was overjoyed at the prospect of spending the holidays in true réveillon style. Flying in to Charles DeGaulle, I waved my passport at the sleepy agent des douane who barely lifted an eyelid when I greeted him in French. Would I drive all the way to Brittany or catch up on my sleep by taking the TGV train? I opted for the latter and hopped a cab to Montparnasse station, paying dearly for it, and made my train to Rennes with just enough time to grab a quick ham and cheese sandwich and cup of coffee. It was a quiet ride and I slep soundly waking just as the conductor announced in a rather mater of fact voice…”Mesdames et Messieurs bonjour nous arrivons….” Once in Rennes, I rented a little Peugeot justs large enough for a European family of four, two bicycles, a dog and a cat or one American and one suitcase. I stuffed myself behind the wheel and shot out of the station like a slingshot, a horse out of the starting gate or a dog who knew his way home and no one was going to stop him.
Before I knew it I was off the Route Nationale and taking a short cut which put me on familiar winding country roads. The sky was a majestic blue, everything smelled rich and delicious and the country air went through me like a welcomed guest; it was pure and invigorating air and made me feel glad just to be alive! I drove along the coast breathing in that familiar tangy smell of low tide, and navigating more hairpin turns on narrow one lane roads. Finally I knew I was but a few hundred yards from the family home. Turning into gravelled driveway, the race was over, I was home.
Returning to Brittany generally and the family home in particular is always a tremendously nostalgic and evocative event. And with good reason. My parents purchased the old property circa late 1890’s in the summer of 1959. Over the years, there has been a lot of family history, emotion, tears of joy and sadness. You can sense it. Having spent many of my summers there while growing up as well as a few rugged wintery ones, I can tell you that the living conditions were a bit rustic to say the least and by those demanding American standards of comfort and want, I’m sure it resembled pioneer living.
With remarkable ease, I found myself slipping back in time and space. I didn’t walk up the steps I bounded up the wooden stairs running to my room as if I was thirteen years old. Downstairs I opened the French doors and eagerly stepped out into the front courtyard and started walking the property. Were those the same cows in the field? I exchanged a friendly wave with the farmer as he drove by on his tractor; we were both kids many years ago. How things appear to not to have really changed. Maybe the vegetable garden looked smaller; there was a time when it had been filled with lettuce, potatoes, leeks, string beans, radishes, and much more. The delicate little pear trees along the garden path still survived these many years and those tart cooking apples fallen from the old tree were there again lying on the grass waiting for me. I threw one out into the field somewhere because I was somewhere in another time. The majestic old fig tree still overshadows the courtyard and seems even larger than before. A few figs on the ground wait to be picked up or perhaps thrown at the enemy hidding behind the farmer’s fence. A major fig battle of yesteryear would soon errupt.
The diner’s center piece was a Roast Beef with Yorkshire Pudding, served with fresh strings beans from the market served with Tarragon and olive oil and tossed gently in a pan – simply delicious! Tossed salad and cheeses and of course for desert the very traditional Bûche de Noël, which had been ordered well ahead of time from the only boulangerie in the village. The spectacular desert was accompanied by a super sized box of Godiva chocolates, brandies, liqueurs and eau de vie. It was a memorable meal that evening and magical in so many ways. As the candles slowly melted down we talked ourselves hoarse about everything and everyone, past and present, good times and sad. Champagne, wine and brandy flowed forever. Re-united en famille everyone sensed the power of this special moment and wanting it to last forever. The gears on the old Grandfather clock slowly wound up then solemnly and deeply chimed once, then twice finally reaching twelve midnight. Glasses were raised to welcome in the new year. It was a single magical moment in time. From somewhere in village the popping sound of fireworks being shoot up into an incredibly clear and starry midnight sky.
Roast Beef with Yorkshire Pudding à la Française
Ingredients:
1 3–4-lb. beef top sirloin roast, tied
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
1⁄4 cup olive oil
2 tbsp. finely chopped fresh thyme
2 tbsp. finely chopped fresh rosemary
4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 1⁄4 cups milk
1 cup plus 2 tbsp. flour
3 large country eggs
1 large shallot, finely chopped
1⁄2 cup red wine (vins de tout les jours is fine)
1 cup beef stock
Directions:
1. Season beef with salt and pepper. In a small bowl, mix together oil, thyme, rosemary, and garlic. Rub beef with herb mixture. Place beef in a small roasting pan, cover loosely with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 8 hours or overnight. Make a point of letting your local butcher know what you need well in advance. Holiday time and the butcher is busy with a lot things shall we say.
2. Remove beef from refrigerator 2 hours before you are ready to roast; allow it to come to room temperature. Meanwhile, make the Yorkshire pudding batter: Whisk together milk, 1 cup flour, 1 tsp. salt, and eggs in a bowl. Cover; let batter sit at room temperature for at least 1 hour. At this point you may wish to stop and pour a glass of red.
3. Heat oven to 500°. Remove plastic wrap and roast beef until browned, 18–20 minutes. Reduce temperature to 250°. Roast until a thermometer inserted into center of beef reads 120° (for medium rare), about 25 minutes. Do not turn it into shoe leather, please! Remove from oven, transfer to a cutting board, and let rest, tented with foil, while you make the Yorkshire pudding and gravy. Pour pan drippings into bowl, leaving about 3 tbsp. in pan. Set roasting pan aside.
2002 Chartogne-Taillet – Brut Champagne Cuvée Fiacre Taillet
NV Taittinger – Brut Champagne Prélude
Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame 1998 (I could never leave out the widow!)
Les Vins:
From the Burgundy region, a nicely chilled Pouilly-Fuissé Labouré-Roi 2006 or 2007;
also a Savigny-lès-Beaune rouge, a Montrachet or a Meursault. From the same region a Domaine Christian Moreau Pere et Fils Chablis Chardonnay 2007. Crisp and lovely. You really can’t go wrong.
From the Bordeaux Region, a good white Bordeaux, typically made from Sémillon, Sauvignon Blanc and Muscadelle would be another good choice. A Mouton Cadet 2006 or a 2007 Chateau Du Seuil, White Bordeaux Graves are both excellent choices in my book. If you want to get a little racier, you want to mix things up and feel like burning a little cash then by all means consider the 1996-98 vintage years. Excellent.