One More Croissant for the Road: Felicity Cloake

Product Information

Preheat the oven to 200C/180C fan/gas mark 6 and cut the bread into thin slices. Drizzle with oil and arrange on a baking sheet. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes until crisp, then rub with the garlic and set aside. Put the chopped shallots and the cider or wine into a large pan and cook gently for 10 minutes, then turn up the heat to medium-high. Remove the stalks from the cherries, but don’t bother to stone them unless you are feeling very energetic. Put them in the base of the dish – they should cover it in a single layer. Eat any extra cherries.

Each of the 21 `stages’ concludes with Felicity putting this new found knowledge to good use in a fresh and definitive recipe for each dish – the culmination of her rigorous and thorough investigative work on behalf of all of our taste buds. that one of the keys aspects of putting Hoffman on the suspect list was the differing story he told about The nation’s ‘taster in chief’ cycles 3,500km across France in search of the definitive versions of classic French dishes. The nation’s `taster in chief’ cycles 2,300 km across France in search of the definitive versions of classic French dishes. A green bike drunkenly weaves its way up a cratered hill in the late-morning sun, the gears grinding painfully, like a pepper mill running on empty. If Eugene Mercier were ‘with us today’, [our guide] says, ‘he would have loved the Internet’. I believe it: the man has viral stunt written all over his amazingly moustachioed face.”A wonderful mix of French food (the incredible Michelin starred meals, the ordinary meals, both good and bad), everyday French life (which she doesn’t over-romanticize – while her love of the country is clear, she also writes about the not-so-good aspects – inconvenient shop or restaurant hours, “ fermetures exceptionnelles” where things simply close for no reason, and sometimes “customer service” isn’t exactly all that), insights about cycling and glorious scenery mixed with good humour makes for an excellent read and a vivid escape from the everyday in this dreary winter in the times of Corona(virus). Drain the mussels and tip into the pan. Cover and cook until most of them have opened – about three minutes.

there was something I could enjoy without knowing that slimy people were behind it. I wish Gellar had more gumption about Agreen bike drunkenly weaves its way up a cratered hill inthe late-morning sun, the gears grinding painfully, like apepper mill running on empty. The rider crouched on top in arictus of pain has slowed to a gravity-defying crawl when, fromsomewhere nearby, the whine of a nasal engine breaks through her ragged breathing. Such a simple dish, but such a delicious one, with the added theatre of the shelling operation, of which I never tire. I like to use Norman cider and drink the rest with it, but you can use a dry white wine if you prefer. Chunks of baguette or (or preferably and) hot, salty fries to mop up the liquid are, however, mandatory. The nation’s ‘taster in chief’ cycles 2,300 km across France in search of the definitive versions of classic French dishes. A green bike drunkenly weaves its way up a cratered hill in the late-morning sun, the gears grinding painfully, like a pepper mill running on empty. The rider crouched on top in a rictus of pain has slowed to a gravity-defying crawl when, from somewhere nearby, the whine of a nasal engine breaks through her ragged breathing.A land of glorious landscapes, and even more glorious food, France is a place built for cycling and for eating, too – a country large enough to give any journey an epic quality, but with a bakery on every corner. Here, you can go from beach to mountain, Atlantic to Mediterranean, polder to Pyrenees, and taste the difference every time you stop for lunch. If you make it to lunch, that is... But very importantly, it completely skips the women involved, particularly Kathy Sheets. Because she wasn't

Yet although French food has maintained its traditional status at the top of the tree – think of a fancy restaurant and I bet your mind conjures an image straight out of Ratatouille – our passion has been cooling since the turn of the millennium. This dish is the star turn of Gascon cuisine, an apologetically rich gratin of beans and animal fat, studded with various meats and served hotter than the southern sun. The great food writer Richard Olney called it “a voluptuous monument to rustic tradition”. Sometimes camping and travelling alone, sometimes accompanied by friends or family and with the luxury of a real bed to sleep in, this book is a review of meals and the cycle rides or train journeys that join them together. We follow her route from the oysters, moules, omelettes and crepes of Normandy and Brittany, south to the beef of Limoges and hot chocolate of Bayonne before she heads east to indulge in Cassoulet and Provençal fish soup, among other delights. From feasts in Lyon as she heads north to the home of mountain cheeses and choucroute in Alsace, her journey comes to a close as she cycles through Champagne country and makes her way to Paris for a well-researched croissant fest. There is no doubt this book will make you hungry as you read it and even I was surprised at how much I didn't know about the food of France. tangentially-related-to-Mormonism to leave women out of their documentary. I'd also be interested in what has I started watching Buffy from the beginning 8 years ago when it was on Netflix, but then it was moved off and we watchedA land of glorious landscapes, and even more glorious food, France is a place built for cycling and for eating, too – a country large enough to give any journey an epic quality, but with a bakery on every corner. Here, you can go from beach to mountain, Atlantic to Mediterranean, polder to Pyrenees, and taste the difference every time you stop for lunch. If you make it to lunch, that is… happened to Hoffman's wife in the years since. They interviewed her, but mostly on the past. She's still around The food writer Diana Henry remembers the moment well: “I was cooking out of Raymond Blanc and loving French bistro food and then it all changed.” She attributes this partially to the influence of places such as the River Café, but also to a collective move away from the cream- and butter-heavy school of French cooking historically popular in this country in favour of lighter, sunnier flavours. It was the pesto I noticed first, a sludgy green interloper in the door of the fridge at home, the vanguard of an Italian invasion that would eventually see the Naked Chef cosy up to Keith Floyd on the kitchen bookshelf, and the butter dish on the dinner table replaced by extra virgin olive oil (which, my dad’s anxious face suggested, was expensive stuff, not to be wasted on teenagers).