Tis a Far, Far Better Thing I Do
One of my favorite regions of France is Brittany, which is more or less the Maine of France (not to be confused, of course with the Maine, which is a a tributary of the Loire and actually is in France).
Brittany has a beautiful, rugged coastline which explodes with flowers in the spring, with a helping hand from the French, of course. There are numerous picturesque islands including the unutterably beautiful Ile de Breihat, and in the north on the border with Normandy, the spectacular Mont St. Michel.
One of the other notable things about Brittany is the people. As a redhead, I always feel a little bit the foreigner in France, especially in Paris which adds a hefty dose of North African and West African into the Gaullish ethnic mix. Brittany, however, is largely Celtic and I actually look like many of the people there. The region has clung to its linguistic roots, too, so there are many very un-French looking place names. For example, the Breton name for Brittany is Breizh, so when you see one of those little oval stickers on a car that says Bzh, you know that it’s either a proud Breton, or a rich Parisian who bucks the trends and heads to the chill of Brittany for summer vacation rather than the much warmer south. One of my favorite place names in Brittany is Ploubazlanec - couldn’t you just hum that to yourself all day?
And, this being France, there is amazing food. Fresh and delicious shellfish is everywhere, including the famous Cancale oysters. And baked goods - mmmm. Kouign amann, from Breton for ‘cake’ and ‘butter’ in its best form is a sticky, buttery, bready cake that has a heady balance of caramel sweetness and buttery saltiness from Breton butter (it’s salty because the cows eat salty grasses).
And then there is far breton, a custardy cake filled with slightly alcoholic dried fruit, a fabulously organic puffy, golden brown gem. And damn simple to make, as I’ve now discovered. My friend Dorie has a recipe for it in her latest cookbook, Baking and I think it may have been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever pulled out of an oven. It sizzled gently with the sound of hot butter, the top a gently undulating deep golden brown, with the occasional island of prune sticking up here and there. As it cooled, the far subsided and the undulations grew deeper - in the end it looked as good as any in a Breton bakery.
And the flavor? Far out!