Monday’s Leftovers: Easter Sunday

Monday’s Leftovers is a periodical series that recaps the moments of a Sunday lunch. Easter is a particularly special lunch, filled with traditional dishes and rituals. Les Cloches Volants were particularly generous, hiding a small fortune of milk and dark chocolate in the garden.

Menu:

Aperitif: Rafale, Chardonnay, Languedoc-Roussillon, France, 2011
First Course: Smoked Salmon stuffed Sole, Potimarron, Lime Confit with Mâche
Main Course: Braised Leg of Lamb, Flageolet beans with Grilled Button Mushrooms served in a Homemade Tomato Coulis
Dessert: Boston Cream Pie

Family arrived to help celebrate the holiday. It was too cold to enjoy the aperitif in the garden as the sun dodged in and out of the clouds. Eventually, it disappeared altogether and it began to rain and to hail. A quick dash outside was required to close the greenhouse to protect the seedlings from the pounding weather. Once back inside, I warmed myself in front of the wood heater as it chased away the dampness trying to creep its way inside.

Lunch started with seasonal flare: mâche, a springtime salad. This was followed lamb, a both traditional and symbolic dish. Braised for nine hours, it was graced with a very personal touch: homemade tomato coulis from last year’s garden. Pleased with the dessert I never made before, Boston Cream Pie, I determined it was worth the work and nine eggs to create it. As the afternoon hours weaned, we finished the meal with the joyousness the holiday celebrates, and a ray of sun broke its way out from under the cloud signaling the change of weather and the promise of new life in spring.

Easter Preparations

We’re in full swing getting ready for this Easter weekend. In France, the Monday following is also considered part of the holiday. Christophe is planning on serving a leg of lamb. Often served medium-rare, he has found a recipe that takes the dish in an entirely different direction: it’s braised for nine hours. He’ll get up sometime around 3 am to prepare the dish and put it in the oven so it’ll be ready for lunch. This isn’t the first time he’s done this; he stumbles back into bed about 20 minutes later and we wake up to the odor of lamb slowing cooking in the oven. It smells delicious, but it is a bit discombobulating to have dinner odors fill the kitchen when I’m still hovering over my coffee.

I’ve decided to tackle a Boston Cream Cake for dessert. The recipe calls for nine eggs. Nine eggs! I’ll be making it in advance since the oven will be occupied for much of the day. Holidays are often a ballet around the oven; things going in and coming out under a carefully watched eye. Luckily, Easter is more about the main dish rather than having a bunch of sides, so I find it to be much easier in comparison to Thanksgiving, for example.

Unfortunately, there will be no egg dying. It is common in Northern France, but I don’t think I could even find an egg dying kit here because it’s not traditional in our region. Part of Christophe’s family is from the north, so he recalls coloring them as a child with crayons, but he mentioned how he’d had to be very careful so they wouldn’t break. I had to think about this for a while, but then I realized, they were coloring raw eggs.

And thinking of eggs, I haven’t seen a white egg in France, ever, not even once. It’s just the issue of what type of chicken lays the egg, but all the eggs I’ve seen here are brown. This has led me to a question, “How well do brown eggs dye?” While I’m certain the brown eggs take the dye just as well as the white, it’s the starting point that might make the difference. Artists start with a white canvas for a reason, so I think using a brown egg would lead to some mucky pastels. Regardless, I think it’s a better approach than taking the risk of having a raw egg break all over me and my fat purple crayon.

Voilà, just some of the random odds thoughts that fill my mind as I still marvel over the idea of a cake that needs nine eggs.

The Sound of Silence

Today, Good Friday, is a religious holiday in which Christians observe the death of Jesus Christ.  Being a Catholic country, France observes this day with the “silencing of the bells” in which church bells in each village, town, and city go silent until Easter Sunday.  Legend states the bells fly (Les Cloches Volants) off to Rome on Holy Thursday carrying with them everyone’s misery and sorrow.  They visit the Pope for his blessings and return on Easter dropping chocolate eggs, bells, and bunnies in gardens for all the children.

The tradition dates back to the 7^th Century (or 12^th, depending on resources) when the Church forbade the ringing of the bells in honor of Christ’s death between Holy Thursday and Easter Sunday.

Carnival in France

            Carnival seems to be much tamer in France than in the US.  There are rambunctious parties such as in Nice and Paris, but there seems to be less youth-filled debauchery than seen in New Orleans.  Of course, there are the gastronomic indulgencies, but there is more of a family participation, such as village parties, family dinners, and children parades.  France is a Catholic country.  They have a separation of Church and State, but their historical roots are not forgotten.  Holidays, such as Ash Wednesday and Fat Tuesday are celebrated, even by non-practicing Catholics.

            Mardi Gras has pagan roots and was incorporated into Christianity because it was easier adapting it than abolishing it altogether, and the roots of American Mardi Gras, not surprisingly, come from France.  French explorers brought the tradition to New Orleans where it was first thought to be celebrated in 1699.  Under Spanish control, the holiday was banned, which was later lifted when Louisiana became a US state in 1812.

            Ash Wednesday is the start of Lent, or le carême and the Catholic traditions of fasting and not eating meat have not escaped the French public eye.  School cafeterias still serve fish on Fridays and markets tend to be more abundantly stocked with fish.  Part marketing, part respect, but all history.  France may be a country that proudly keeps religion out of politics, but it hasn’t forgotten its Catholic roots.  It may be shrouded, but the fact is, France flaunts its Christian beliefs, and the practices of Mardi Gras and Ash Wednesday are a symbol of their living history.