There is no question about it; shopping in a French marché with an authentic
French chef takes some getting used to. “ Voilà!” announces Dimitri the
chef, holding up a glossy aubergine. “The perfect aubergine.”
But Dimitri, some slug has begun to eat it, I complain in my halting French,
pointing out hesitantly that a quarter of it has clearly already been
nibbled. “ Oui!” he says with relish. In Britain, such a thing would have
consigned the hapless vegetable to the poubelle.
Not so in France. “You’ll see that the aubergine is sweet and free from
chemicals,” he continues in French. “Because the slug wants to eat it!” Yes,
well next time I find a maggot in my Granny Smith, I’ll remember that.
I have taken Mr Millard for a long weekend in France to learn some authentic
cuisine, but also so we can brush up on our French. My idea is that two of
life’s most sophisticated skills, cooking well and speaking French, can thus
be achieved in one fell swoop.
The idea of cooking and language “Escapes” in France is the brainchild of
Martine Guardo-Marsat, who has launched the courses at her luxurious villa,
La Borderie de la Côle, near the little town of Brantôme, southwest France.
Our “Escape” begins on a Thursday, because we must visit Friday’s market in
Brantôme.
We fly into Bordeaux and drive easily to La Borderie de la Côle, where Madame
Marsat and a slap-up meal welcome us. We eat in a walled garden by the
heated pool, bats darting above us. The only thing to disturb us is owls
hooting across the fields on the other side of the little rushing river. If
this is a self-improvement holiday, it is hardly the stuff of hair shirts
and learning by rote.
The next morning we are off to the marché. Chatting in a sort of bastardised
Franglais with Madame (who lives in both London and France, and is perfectly
happy in either language), we are also escorted by our chef, Dimitri Bacou,
who runs a restaurant in the Dordogne. As we shoot off to Brantôme, he
assures us we will find the perfect ingredients for our gourmet weekend.
Beneath the austere shadow of the medieval abbey and alongside the river that
curls around the town, local farmers sell organically grown fruit and veg
alongside fishmongers, cheese-makers and milliners. Mountains of nuts tumble
beside boxes of bright red pimento peppers. Pyramids of creamy cheese sit
before great wheels of oozing Brie. Everything is presented with the pride
and care that typifies the French worship of food.
Back with our provisions at the Borderie de la Côle, which Madame transformed
three years ago from a ruin into a lavish house capable of sleeping nine, we
start chopping vegetables. Everyone is in aprons and chef’s hats. You can
book an Escape as one big group, come with a friend, or join another group.
All Madame requires is that guests, broadly speaking, have a similar level
of French. You also have to like eating.
“You ’ave to love your vegetables,” says Dimitri, placing baby carrots one by
one into a casserole dish. We make fish “tresses”, plaiting fillets of sole
together, and baking them in little paper parcels. I shave courgettes into
strips; these will be marinated in balsamic vinegar and eaten raw. Mr
Millard is shown how to peel apples professionally (around the core, then
down in strips along the fruit, it’s about ten times quicker), and makes a
tarte tatin with neither scales nor electric beater.
“Don’t you ever use any formal cooking equipment?” I ask Dimitri. “Non,” he
responds affably, showing how a fistful of flour in his hand weighs exactly
100g (my fists contain 50g). We learn all sorts of tricks, such as picking
up pastry by rolling it on to the pin. We learn how to julienne carrots
propely. Most of all, we learn how to respect and savour our food.
“The objective of the Escapes is to allow my guests to discover French
cuisine, to discover how each course is constructed, to show them real
French cooking away from the recipe books and the restaurants,” says Madame
over lunch, where we eat a great deal of what we have just prepared (the
rest will be for tomorrow’s lunch.).
An Escape can include day trips to local sights, and Dimitri will lay on wine
tasting with bottles from local vineyards, if required. We, however, are
perfectly happy cooking, chatting in Franglais, buying fresh bread from
Brantôme every morning, and eating it along with delicious home-cooked food
and some local wine.
We bumble along in ropy French. I am told not to say “vachement” (it’s very
out) and that describing someone as “un mec” is impolite. Mr Millard is
politely deterred from saying “fantastique”. “ Formidable!” he cries.
Everything else passes without a murmur. Yet during my three-hour formal
conversation, nothing is left uncorrected. Grammar, gender and vocabulary
are all overhauled with rigour. Madame and I take sunloungers and sit out in
the frosty air beside the little burbling river. Great, I think. Some proper
instruction quand je suis à France.
“Non, Rosie,” instructs Madame. “On dit ‘en France’, mais ‘à Paris!’” A
naturally curious woman, Madame makes conversation easy as she gently
corrects my grammar and leads me out onto the heady slopes of the
subjunctive. She gives me some French slang such as BCBG (bon chic, bon
genre), meaning stylish. After three hours, I am speaking much better all
round.
Our formal dinner that night is a chance for Dimitri to show off his cooking:
a six-course meal from soup to strawberries by way of fish, beef, cheese and
heavenly wine. Definitely haute cuisine and demanding a hearty run around
the local fields the next morning, where French dogs come up and bark, and
old ladies dressed in black are out taking the air.
Luxurious, relaxing and utterly delicious, our Escape was one of those
holidays whose improving tentacles have reached out to us for weeks
afterwards. Mr Millard has cooked at least three tarte tatins, and has even
plaited some fish and cooked it in a parcel. For me, a blissful moment
arrived when I trotted out the subjunctive to the children’s French teacher
without really even thinking about it. Merveilleux!
Need to know
Five-day cookery Escapes at La Borderie de la Côle cost from £595pp, full
board, including all cooking ingredients and wine. See www.borderie-cole.com
for details.
French correction
Golfing and wine-tasting breaks in southwest France, from two days to a
week (www.the
vintagegolfcompany.co.uk).
Shopaholics break staying in the Dordogne. Visits to markets, shops,
with buying opportunities a certainty. French language breaks also
offered (www.lesfontenelles.co.uk).
Pottery and ceramics near Carcassonne. Accommodation is en suite, with
pool, tennis and boules. The courses are for up to 10 people and include
wine tasting and French cuisine (www.frenchhouseparty.co.uk).
Photoholidaysfrance, run by photographer Andrew Whittuck, at his home in a
mountain village in the South of France. Week-long
Landscape photography holidays cost £650 a week (www.photoholidaysfrance.co.uk).
