Opposites Attack: A Novel with Recipes Provencal (37 page)

“You are a sorceress, Al-
ees.
Every day with you is exquisite torture.”

“Now what’s the surprise?”

“First, a toast.”

She raised her glass and took a moment to put into words what she was feeling.

“To a decision we will never regret.”

“Not romantic enough.”

“Okay. And at least a year full of love, laughter, and great food. Oh! I know.” She recalled an expression she’d learned on her last day of class. “
Qui ne risque rien n’a rien.
”

He who risks nothing, has nothing.

Jean-Luc’s toast? “To my one and only thrush. And no more blackbirds.”

“Awwww. Wait, one more. A toast to your haircut.”

After clinking and sipping, they fell into a long overdue first kiss that only a real man could have given her. So different from all that preceded it.

The air was wonderful; fresh and light. She felt reborn. Maybe it would work with Jean-Luc. It was worth a try, especially when she couldn’t imagine not having him in her life.

Dreamily she replied, “You can grow your hair to your ass and I wouldn’t care.”

Smiling, he said, “Now for your next surprise.”

He walked into the house and came back with a black shiny shopping bag with pink tissue paper peeking out of it. A slinky dance beat began to play.

“This is Grace Jones’s version of ‘La Vie en Rose’,” he said. “Do you know it?”

She shook her head no as she moved to its sensuous rhythm and investigated the bag. She took out a small box and opened it, not knowing what to expect.

“Pink sunglasses?”

“The lenses are rose-colored, my darling.”

She tried them on. Everything she looked at—the sea, the house, the Tree of Love, Didon, and Jean-Luc—had a nice, reddish warm glow.

Especially when he pulled out a matching pair from the bag and put them on.

He held her close as they moved to the music. “Al-
ees
, I cannot take another step forward into our life together unless I know how it feels to dance with you.”

She was delighted to discover he was a great dancer.

As the sun rose higher in the topaz sky and bathed their future home in gold, and the music of approving birds swelled around them, they moved effortlessly around the terrace as though they had been doing it for years.

He said softly, “You do know that you changed me more than I changed you.”

“You’re right. I deserve a medal.”

He brought her even closer. “If you keep up your insults, I will be the one calling off this trial arrangement.”

“
Au contraire
,” she whispered back. “You’ll call it off if I stop.”

With a naughty laugh, they danced on.

“Tree of Love”

I trust you enjoyed your stay in Marlaison, a fictitious town based on Hyères, France. Please see my website for “
The Story Behind the Story
.” When I was writing
Opposites Attack
, I studied many French cookbooks and made many of the recipes in my head. Now, I’ve actually made them and will give them to you with Alyce and Jean-Luc in my head. First, Alyce imparts the recipe in her fast, practical way with “creative license” suggestions. Jean-Luc, a fussy purist with no regard for how long it takes, chimes in. To him, the more time spent in the kitchen the better. It keeps him from having to write. You decide which muse you will follow or whether to merge the two.

Check my
blog
for more recipes and let me know how your versions turn out. My deepest gratitude extends to
Mary-James Lawrence
, Francophile/‌chef/‌Provence custom tour guide/‌hostess extraordinaire, for her stellar feedback, especially with the wild boar daube. Also to wine connoisseur/‌author/‌bon vivant
Mark Oldman
for his oenophilic input.

I chose to start with the wild boar daube in Chapter 24 for two reasons. First, it was a turning point for Alyce that boosted her confidence as a chef, hostess, and raconteur. Not to mention sharpshooter. (Slaying and cooking her
sanglier
was nothing compared to learning French.) Second, I’m on a mission to convince more people to eat this meat. Wild boars, warthogs,
sangliers
, feral swine, whatever you want to call them, are a menace that needs to be controlled! They destroy property, crops, and can be dangerous, even lethal, in America as well as abroad. Have fun YouTubing that.

Boar is a lot like beef and isn’t at all gamey. It’s on the dry side because it has little fat, which makes it good for you. Lots of deglazing is important. Because Alyce made her daube in the summer, she used white wine to make it “lighter,” though traditionally in France it’s made with red wine in cooler weather when a hearty hot stew tastes best and the bitter oranges are available. Also, it’s
sanglier
hunting season then.

Never use stock, only wine. Jean-Luc subscribes to the notion that you should only cook with wine you would drink. Alyce agrees, but the only wine she wouldn’t drink is wine that’s turned to vinegar. She feels wine you would drink but not serve company is ideal to cook with.

A warning about eating game you’ve hunted yourself. You could be exposing yourself to salmonella, hepatitis-E, and more. It’s better to buy it over the Internet from a reputable company or have an experienced butcher cut up your bounty.
I used Dartagnan.com to buy my wild boar. The company is owned by a Frenchwoman. How can you go wrong? Their boars are wild and “humanely trapped” (whatever that means) in Texas then processed at USDA-inspected facilities.

If you must have the boar fresh, spend the extra money and have it delivered the next morning, not afternoon. The frozen boar I ordered was great. It arrived in a Styrofoam box that could be repurposed as an ice chest. Inside were reusable freezer bags inside. Very nice presentation.

Allow one day to marinate, one to cook. It’s even better the third day. And now, ladies and gentleman, I turn you over to Alyce and Jean-Luc.

Santé!

A daubière in action

WILD BOAR DAUBE for 10–12

You will need:

A big pot or bowl for marinating

13 qt Dutch oven ideal (or two smaller ones), or a
daubière
If you cook this in the oven (versus on the stove) the Dutch oven will be very heavy and hot. Make sure you have the strength or help on hand, especially if your oven is in a high location.

2 big pots for browning and sautéing

1 large bowl, 1 medium bowl

2 wooden spatulas

A
daubière
, a pot designed especially for daube, has a recessed lid for wine or water to act as insulation. When the steam rises off the top of the daube inside, it doesn’t evaporate as quickly because the lid is cooler. This leads to a basting effect. Cool, huh? You can do part of the cooking on the stove or in an oven and then move it to the
daubière
, or do it all in it. I like to rest it in a corner of a burning fireplace. It makes a lovely burbling sound and is quite romantic.

Ingredients

7–8 lbs wild boar stew meat, thawed, rinsed, dried, cut into 2–3" pieces, fat removed (This amount will yield elegant French portions. For heartier appetites, use more meat.)

3–4 bottles of red wine

3 oz. brandy, cognac, or whiskey (optional)

2 lbs of peeled carrots, 1–2" pieces

1 head of garlic, cloves peeled

3 stalks of celery, sliced (optional)

Bouquet garni: 1 sprig each of rosemary and thyme, 1 bay leaf, the stems of a parsley bunch. Tie them together.

Strips of peel from 1 orange (not the whole rind, bitter orange is best)

3 T butter

1/3 c flour

1/2 c extra virgin olive oil (French EVOO imparts a rich but subtle flavor. Find it on the Internet.
A l’Olivier
is from Nice, and divine.)

1/2 lb slab of unsmoked bacon cut into lardons (1/4" wide by about 1" long). If you can find
couenne
, pork skin, even better. Tie it up in a nice bundle and slice it after it’s cooked. It’s a treat to get a little bit of fat when eating the daube. (Or you can pick it out, but that’s only allowed on doctor’s orders.)

Sea salt and fresh ground pepper to taste

1 bunch of parsley leaves, chopped

Marinate

Place boar in a large pot or bowl and mix with vegetables, bouquet garni, and orange peel. Pour two bottles of wine over it and marinate in refrigerator for 24 hours, stirring a few times.

Preparation

Blanche and rinse lardons of bacon. Separate vegetables from meat. Keep the marinade with herbs and orange peel. Brown vegetables in olive oil and a little butter. Add a
little
salt and pepper. Salt, especially, is like T.M.I. Once you’ve hit Too Much you can’t go back.

In your Dutch oven, on the stove, brown the meat in batches in small amounts of olive oil. Don’t crowd them. Deglaze three times. (That means add red wine until the meat is about half covered and burn the liquid off quickly. Don’t let anything blacken). Add the lardons at the end. If you want to add brandy or cognac, here’s where you do it. But flambé it (light it) to take the edge off. (That’s according to JL. After singeing my eyebrows when I stood too close, I just pour it in.)

Add the vegetable mixture to the boar meat. Sprinkle with flour. Add marinade. Add wine until it’s almost covered. Rinse pans with a little water and add to the pot. Simmer gently for 1–2 hours. If you don’t have a
daubière
, keep simmering another 2 hours. You can also skip the stove and put it in the oven at 325 degrees for 2-1/2 to 3 hours, depending on size of your pot. If you do have a
daubière
, after you’ve simmered 1–2 hours, transfer everything to the daubière and place it in a corner of the fireplace (with a fire going). Simmer gently for 1–2 hours and enjoy its special sounds.

I have to say this because it’s so Jean-Luc. He does not use the term “preheat,” as in “preheat the oven to 325 degrees.” He says there’s no “pre” heating it. You heat the oven until it reaches the desired temperature. He hates the term “prerecorded” as well. He can really drive me nuts. But not nearly as nuts as he drives himself.

Serve in bowls with rosemary mashed potatoes first (see next recipe), daube on top of the potatoes, then garnish with chopped parsley. JL hates when I do this, but I throw some currants on top, too. He says Americans have repulsive sweet tooths. Or is it teeth? Well, he can go fly a kite in the rain. That’s how I like
my
daube. Savor every bite! (Honestly, if you told everyone they were eating fancy beef stew they’d probably believe you. Don’t tell JL I said that.)

Jean-Luc: I always use a nice French wine for cooking. Alyce? Any old wine will do. But of course… when you are someone who would drink any old wine. If you must make this in the summer, use a Viognier to cook with and to drink. I would never consider doing it then but if you have fresh boar, “go for it,” as my little sow would say. For a red wine, I recommend anything from the Rhone Valley, especially Châteauneuf du Pape or Côte Rotie. Or Côtes du Rhône for the best value.

If you are tempted to use bacon for the fat, do not. It becomes stringy and adds too much of a smoky flavor. Refrain from using alcohol in this dish (other than wine) unless it is flambéed. Flambé exists for a reason: to infuse a subtle aroma and flavor of the alcohol. Adding it directly is not the same. However, we already know about Alyce’s “plugged-up, unused, withering senses.” She is making progress, though. Baby steps.

I add cèpe mushrooms on occasion. If you can’t find them, any fresh ones will do. Celery is not optional! The aromatics of carrot, onion, and celery—the foundation of mirepoix—are at the heart of many French dishes. I would place the flour in a bowl and then coat each piece of boar evenly before browning, not add the flour later. Ideally, slow cook the daube in a daubière pot in a fireplace over 2 days and add the mushrooms (sautéed) the second day. Sometimes, in small villages, it is prepared before church on Sunday and dropped at the boulangerie to finish in the baker’s oven.