Last weekend, after the mad dash around Nantes with Jess, I left at 7am the next morning to meet with the IES crew to explore Les Chateaux de la Loire, or four of the many castles that line the Loire river. The bus ride was long and mostly during sunrise, which meant sun in our faces, but at least it woke me up enough in time to experience the castles.
Our first stop was Azay-le-Rideau, a relatively small castle tucked into the middle of a little town of winding roads that didn't necessarily facilitate the large bus that we were taking, but our driver managed beautifully. Azay-le-Rideau is mostly characterized by its open, Italian style staircase. It's an Italian staircase because it's one of the early examples in France of a straight staircase with little landings between floors and not just a spiral staircase. The castle is surrounded by water mirrors-- a sort of decorative moat, and mostly park-like gardens. There was a chapel at the back but we weren't allowed in there. Our tour was audio guided and we all wandered through the hallways and skinny staircases and high attics with those little radio devices pressed uncomfortably to our ears. One of the audio track inexplicably held nothing but a Renaissance love poem read by an Irish woman.
Our next stop was the castle, but more importantly the gardens at Villandry. These gardens are perfectly pruned--with square hedges and labyrinths and gorgeous blooms. We tried to get into the castle but we were unfortunately right behind a large group and were directed to the gardens instead. At the tail end of our visit, my group of friends dashed back to the castle and zipped through the rooms in record time, taking a handful of pictures and getting back to the bus early, ready to continue on to Tours.
Tours was where we were sleeping that night, and we had about three hours to explore it between check in and dinner, which we used to exclaim over the Star Wars-esque tram lights, to search for batteries, and to explore a very beautiful cathedral.
The next morning, we popped over to Amboise, where we had a guided tour of the castle and free time in the gardens and the surrounding town. No one had bothered to mention to us that not only did Nantes's favorite, Anne de Bretagne, live in the castle for a period, but that Leonardo da Vinci was casually buried in the tiny chapel.
Our last castle for the weekend was Chenonceau, which I'm pretty sure was the largest of the four. There was the castle, the enormous gardens, the river, the 17th century farm, the labyrinth, the flower garden, and the donkey park. Sydney was most intrigued by the donkey park because she wasn't exactly sure if there were donkeys there. Spoiler alert: the donkeys were there and they were adorable.
This weekend, I stayed in Nantes. This Friday, I headed to the IES center to learn how to make soufflés and then had breakfast on Saturday at Tabl'o Gourmand, which is fast becoming my go-to place for breakfast/snack/coffee/atmosphere. It's just so unhurried and welcoming, with stacks of books and games which give the general idea that you should be in no hurry to leave your table, so just kick back and take your time.
After that, Miel and I walked up alongside tram ligne 3 until we found Place Viarme, where the Nantes flea market is located. This is the sort of flea market mostly full of antiques, shattered bits of violins, old ivory-handled canes, creepy dolls, and boxes of books. Miel and I sifted through boxes of ancient post-cards and I had to be talked out of buying a book on economics because the book happened to be in Greek. As I learned, while haggling in Morocco can be aggressive and harrowing (and haggling in Senegal can be traumatizing), haggling in Nantes consisted mostly of acting skeptical of the price and being hesitant to buy. In the end, I walked away with two old post cards and no books in Greek.
Yesterday I had a cooking class with one of the IES program host families; four students in one little kitchen making a three course lunch. We ended up with goat cheese and sausage and grapefruit-rose wine cocktails for an aperitif, goat cheese samosas for appetizers, then mushroom risotto and sausages for lunch, followed by four types of cheese and then an apple and banana cake. We ate and ate and then talked politics and drank coffee as the host father smoked about five cigarettes in the course of an hour. It all felt very, very French, and I'm going to have to make that cake again.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Saturday, October 25, 2014
En jouant l'hotesse
Sometime at the beginning of my stay here in Nantes, Jess emailed me and said she was coming to visit on the 16th of October and that she would stay for the weekend. Unfortunately, I was going on a weekend trip with IES that weekend; one of those excursions included in tuition, so I was clearly obligated to go.
That meant I had one day to show Jess Nantes.
I asked around that Tuesday at conversation club, demanding of all the native Nantes students:
"If you had one day to show someone Nantes, what would you do?"
To which they all responded.
"That's not enough time."
Nevertheless, I penciled in the castle, and then decided to hope for the best.
On Thursday, the 16th, Jess arrived at the train station at 9:30pm and once we were home I shoved quiche, pain au chocolat, and the rest of the cream puffs in her direction.
The next morning saw us getting up early and heading to Tabl'o Gourmand, which has become mostly my go-to breakfast joint. This time, I was wise enough not to choose the enormous brunch and instead had a bowl of granola. After this, we crossed town to the castle, moseyed around there for a few moments before deciding not to spend the five euro for the museum. Le Select, a cafe-bar-restaurant happens to be right across the street from the castle, so we stopped for a coffee and tea.
We crossed town again to the bakery near the opera house at Place Graslin, where Jess got the tiny chocolate mousse dessert that she'd been coveting since my Facebook post of it and I got what was essentially a piece of French toast covered in sugar and chocolate chips. After this, we decided to hit up the museum of natural history, because if there's one thing you want to do on a Friday afternoon, it's spend time in a huge building of dead things. As it turned out, we were literally the only people in the museum. This clearly allowed us to commandeer the children's room, where we spent a good chunk of time coloring.
The end of our visit to the museum saw us cross town yet again to find lunch at a creperie and then a snack at Sophie Bakery.
That evening, Dany made us ham, cheese, and egg galettes.
It was a very food-oriented day in Nantes.
I left early the next morning and Jess was gone an hour later. Dany told me afterwards that she was very alarmed, because she woke up and no one was home.
My adventures with Jess will continue in less than a week for the beginning of NaNo, where our kick off will be on her turf in London.
That meant I had one day to show Jess Nantes.
I asked around that Tuesday at conversation club, demanding of all the native Nantes students:
"If you had one day to show someone Nantes, what would you do?"
To which they all responded.
"That's not enough time."
Nevertheless, I penciled in the castle, and then decided to hope for the best.
On Thursday, the 16th, Jess arrived at the train station at 9:30pm and once we were home I shoved quiche, pain au chocolat, and the rest of the cream puffs in her direction.
The next morning saw us getting up early and heading to Tabl'o Gourmand, which has become mostly my go-to breakfast joint. This time, I was wise enough not to choose the enormous brunch and instead had a bowl of granola. After this, we crossed town to the castle, moseyed around there for a few moments before deciding not to spend the five euro for the museum. Le Select, a cafe-bar-restaurant happens to be right across the street from the castle, so we stopped for a coffee and tea.
We crossed town again to the bakery near the opera house at Place Graslin, where Jess got the tiny chocolate mousse dessert that she'd been coveting since my Facebook post of it and I got what was essentially a piece of French toast covered in sugar and chocolate chips. After this, we decided to hit up the museum of natural history, because if there's one thing you want to do on a Friday afternoon, it's spend time in a huge building of dead things. As it turned out, we were literally the only people in the museum. This clearly allowed us to commandeer the children's room, where we spent a good chunk of time coloring.
The end of our visit to the museum saw us cross town yet again to find lunch at a creperie and then a snack at Sophie Bakery.
That evening, Dany made us ham, cheese, and egg galettes.
It was a very food-oriented day in Nantes.
I left early the next morning and Jess was gone an hour later. Dany told me afterwards that she was very alarmed, because she woke up and no one was home.
My adventures with Jess will continue in less than a week for the beginning of NaNo, where our kick off will be on her turf in London.
Patisserie Megan
On Sunday the 14th, I Skyped Victoria and she told me to watch The Grand Budapest Hotel, which I had not yet seen. I then watched it, watched it again, bought the soundtrack, and this is where the pastry craze that has seized my life began.
That next Tuesday, I had a free morning, so after heading to Monoprix and getting my hands on pastry bags and the relevant groceries, I started my pate-à-choux, the dough used to make little cream puffs. The dough was incredibly easy and the custard to fill the little puffs was even easier. I spent most of the morning in the kitchen, piping dough onto sheets, then piping cream into puffs, and then brought the leftovers to conversation club.
On my way home from conversation club, I bought two bars of flavored chocolate and a carton of eggs.
The next morning, I started working on two more batches of custards--Lindt chocolate orange bar and blueberry bar went into two different pots. You only need yolks for custard, so I whipped the whites and stuck them into the oven as meringues, which were flat and sad and burnt, but still sugar, so I ate them anyway.
After ballet on Wednesday, I made two batches of pate-à-choux and produced two enormous batches of puffs, glazed them in raspberry royal icing, and stuck them in the fridge. They lasted for an enormous amount of time and I brought them on the bus that weekend for my friends on the trip to the chateax de la Loire.
And after that, I just didn't stop with the pastries. The next week, I tried for choux pastries one more time and this time they puffed up, enormous and perfect and I filled them with the leftovers from the rest of the custard batches.
After spending some time on Pinterest, I decided to give puff pastry sheets a try, and after stocking up on three rolls and checking carefully on the Pinterest guides, I made little Danish pastries out of jam and kiri cheese, braiding the dough or just smushing the pockets of dough closed: apricot and cheese, cheese on its own, raspberry jam, strawberry jam, nutella with cinnamon...I had a pile of them. With the last sheet, I made a rose shaped apple tart--the usual French design with the thinly sliced apples and I glazed it with apricot.
Dany tasted it and then had another slice and then three little nutella braids and told me that I should leave my studies and start baking, and I think if a French woman tells you that your pastries are that good, you've accomplished something.
Today, I kept up with the puff pastry line, with a ham and goat cheese and kiri cheese and mustard puff pastry pie and a rose design apple and plum tart. I don't think I'm ever going to stop with this. There's something extremely satisfying about checking back on the oven and watching pastries puff up and brown under the egg wash and the apples and plums caramelize and then of course presenting it to friends and being all happy when they appreciate what you've made.
So once I move back into a dorm situation, come find me and I will probably have baked goods.
That next Tuesday, I had a free morning, so after heading to Monoprix and getting my hands on pastry bags and the relevant groceries, I started my pate-à-choux, the dough used to make little cream puffs. The dough was incredibly easy and the custard to fill the little puffs was even easier. I spent most of the morning in the kitchen, piping dough onto sheets, then piping cream into puffs, and then brought the leftovers to conversation club.
On my way home from conversation club, I bought two bars of flavored chocolate and a carton of eggs.
The next morning, I started working on two more batches of custards--Lindt chocolate orange bar and blueberry bar went into two different pots. You only need yolks for custard, so I whipped the whites and stuck them into the oven as meringues, which were flat and sad and burnt, but still sugar, so I ate them anyway.
After ballet on Wednesday, I made two batches of pate-à-choux and produced two enormous batches of puffs, glazed them in raspberry royal icing, and stuck them in the fridge. They lasted for an enormous amount of time and I brought them on the bus that weekend for my friends on the trip to the chateax de la Loire.
And after that, I just didn't stop with the pastries. The next week, I tried for choux pastries one more time and this time they puffed up, enormous and perfect and I filled them with the leftovers from the rest of the custard batches.
After spending some time on Pinterest, I decided to give puff pastry sheets a try, and after stocking up on three rolls and checking carefully on the Pinterest guides, I made little Danish pastries out of jam and kiri cheese, braiding the dough or just smushing the pockets of dough closed: apricot and cheese, cheese on its own, raspberry jam, strawberry jam, nutella with cinnamon...I had a pile of them. With the last sheet, I made a rose shaped apple tart--the usual French design with the thinly sliced apples and I glazed it with apricot.
Dany tasted it and then had another slice and then three little nutella braids and told me that I should leave my studies and start baking, and I think if a French woman tells you that your pastries are that good, you've accomplished something.
Today, I kept up with the puff pastry line, with a ham and goat cheese and kiri cheese and mustard puff pastry pie and a rose design apple and plum tart. I don't think I'm ever going to stop with this. There's something extremely satisfying about checking back on the oven and watching pastries puff up and brown under the egg wash and the apples and plums caramelize and then of course presenting it to friends and being all happy when they appreciate what you've made.
So once I move back into a dorm situation, come find me and I will probably have baked goods.
Monday, October 20, 2014
Un gout du Maroc et un grand brunch à Nantes
I didn't end up writing a post on the fifth week, and that's mostly because nothing unusual happened on the fifth week. I went to classes without interruption from strikes. I chatted at conversation club hour. I ate a lot of bread.
On Friday the 10th, I went shopping with Sydney, because we sort of needed things and we also mostly wanted things. We poked our heads into Kiabi, which advertises "fashion at a small price." We found many small prices, and we also found sweatshirts supporting the fifty-two states of America. Whether this is a simple mistake or some sort of misguided campaign for the statehood of Puerto Rico and Washington DC, we aren't completely certain. H&M and Zara seem to be the same everywhere. We walked around a little more before Sydney brought up my earlier plans to find a bakery called Al Rayan. I'd told her that I was going to find it on Saturday, but since we had little else to do, we hopped on the tram, rode it just one stop, and found the bakery easily.
Al Rayan is a Middle-Eastern bakery. Every plate of pastries has a small sign stuck into it with the name of the pastry, its country of origin, and the name in Arabic script. I have been craving chebakia ever since I left Morocco, and I had some of them the night I left. Chebakia are fried twists of saffron dough, soaked in honey and coated in sesame seeds. I love them especially because I learned how to make them with Ouafae and Lima in Rabat and two-year-old Lina learned alongside me. I beelined past the marzipan fruits and the almond cookies and the honeycomb pancakes and pointed at the chebakia right when I laid eyes on them.
"I would like the chebakia," I told the proprietor. "I would like six of them."
I ate two of them right there and the other four were gone before Sunday.
That Sunday, Sydney, Audrey, and I met for brunch at Tabl'o Gourmand, which I mentioned in the scavenger hunt post. This time we headed for the other location, as we were worried that the large location in the center of town would be crowded. Therefore, we found ourselves at the slightly smaller location close to the IES center, a cozy cafe tucked into a side street. It was raining and it was also ten in the morning on a Sunday and we were essentially alone. We shared the basket of bread--still warm and soft and spread with violet jelly and cherry jam and Ovamaltine, the crunchy nutella, essentially. I decided to go all in for the Tabl'o Gourmand signature brunch, which came in waves.
First thing was a chocolate chip muffin and a coffee, followed by plain yogurt with honey, scrambled eggs with fried bacon, and then the brunch salad. At Tabl'o Gourmand, the brunch salad is a cup or so of salad surrounded by three different cured meats and three literal bricks of cheese. Warning: if you eat the whole Tabl'o brunch like I did, you might not eat anything else for the rest of the day.
After the brunch, Sydney reminded us that it was Fete de la Science in Nantes, which meant that the natural history museum was free. If a museum that you normally pay for is free, you should go see it. I really do love the natural history museum at Nantes--it is structured in levels, from geology to mammals and sea-creatures, and then birds and seashells on the loft level.
And so that weekend was much more exciting than the week that preceded it.
On Friday the 10th, I went shopping with Sydney, because we sort of needed things and we also mostly wanted things. We poked our heads into Kiabi, which advertises "fashion at a small price." We found many small prices, and we also found sweatshirts supporting the fifty-two states of America. Whether this is a simple mistake or some sort of misguided campaign for the statehood of Puerto Rico and Washington DC, we aren't completely certain. H&M and Zara seem to be the same everywhere. We walked around a little more before Sydney brought up my earlier plans to find a bakery called Al Rayan. I'd told her that I was going to find it on Saturday, but since we had little else to do, we hopped on the tram, rode it just one stop, and found the bakery easily.
Al Rayan is a Middle-Eastern bakery. Every plate of pastries has a small sign stuck into it with the name of the pastry, its country of origin, and the name in Arabic script. I have been craving chebakia ever since I left Morocco, and I had some of them the night I left. Chebakia are fried twists of saffron dough, soaked in honey and coated in sesame seeds. I love them especially because I learned how to make them with Ouafae and Lima in Rabat and two-year-old Lina learned alongside me. I beelined past the marzipan fruits and the almond cookies and the honeycomb pancakes and pointed at the chebakia right when I laid eyes on them.
"I would like the chebakia," I told the proprietor. "I would like six of them."
I ate two of them right there and the other four were gone before Sunday.
That Sunday, Sydney, Audrey, and I met for brunch at Tabl'o Gourmand, which I mentioned in the scavenger hunt post. This time we headed for the other location, as we were worried that the large location in the center of town would be crowded. Therefore, we found ourselves at the slightly smaller location close to the IES center, a cozy cafe tucked into a side street. It was raining and it was also ten in the morning on a Sunday and we were essentially alone. We shared the basket of bread--still warm and soft and spread with violet jelly and cherry jam and Ovamaltine, the crunchy nutella, essentially. I decided to go all in for the Tabl'o Gourmand signature brunch, which came in waves.
First thing was a chocolate chip muffin and a coffee, followed by plain yogurt with honey, scrambled eggs with fried bacon, and then the brunch salad. At Tabl'o Gourmand, the brunch salad is a cup or so of salad surrounded by three different cured meats and three literal bricks of cheese. Warning: if you eat the whole Tabl'o brunch like I did, you might not eat anything else for the rest of the day.
After the brunch, Sydney reminded us that it was Fete de la Science in Nantes, which meant that the natural history museum was free. If a museum that you normally pay for is free, you should go see it. I really do love the natural history museum at Nantes--it is structured in levels, from geology to mammals and sea-creatures, and then birds and seashells on the loft level.
And so that weekend was much more exciting than the week that preceded it.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
La Quatrième Semaine
I have been here in Nantes for a month. One month and a weekend. I have gone through three weeks of classes, three IES organized trips, twenty pages of my writing notebook, and one jar of peanut butter. It is organic peanut butter; the only kind they sell at the Carrefour across the street.
This week saw very little changed from last week; I went to ballet and Arabic Civilization class on Monday. Tuesday I tried to go to Art History class, but the tram was cut short because of the pharmacists' strikes and so I gave up and went to IES early for theatre. So there was that; a tram line out of service because of strikes. I've been cast as the mechanical doll in the theatre production and perhaps this week I will bring my pointe shoes to rehearsal. We'll see what works best with the role. Wednesday I went to politics class and then rushed home and then rushed out again to ballet, which was incredible. The teacher is appropriately strict, the combinations appropriately challenging, and the teacher's assistant appropriately jaw-droppingly poised, flexy, and helpful. On Thursday I went to the history classes on Africa and Latin America and then went to IES to hang around for a couple hours just because I could.
There's no homework here. I finally have an assignment for the class on the Law of the EU and it's my final dissertation project. I should get on that.
Friday, I met with Sydney for lunch and then we went to the Machines de L'Ile, a tourist attraction/cultural center of Nantes. Julie was supposed to accompany us, but since someone tagged along who was not on the list, there weren't enough tickets, so she handed me the stack of entry cards, slipped the "group chaperone: free" ticket into my pocket, and told me to lead the group to the gallery and the ticket counter after the carousel.
The carousel is themed "Marine Worlds" and consists of three levels: the seabed, the abyss, and the sea surface. This is to say that the carousel on the bottom floor has fantastically large squid with mechanical tentacles, enormous blue crabs with pincers that snip, and tiny lobsters with seats specifically fit for very tiny babies. The second floor consists of floating fish; fish that you find in the middle of the sea with large teeth and strange glowing lures that are the size of couches and equipped with leather seats in their tummies for the passengers. The very top floor is where we were allowed to ride the carousel and we did indeed have fun. I have video of Sydney riding a flying fish bicycle, Emy and Audrey inside a conch shell, Emiliana perched inside an over-sized walnut shell. I managed to get on the large flying fish with the other Megan in the IES program and it rose up and down as we operated its fins and pressed the level to open its mouth.
The gallery is where the famous elephant lives, and is also where the heron that flies, screams, and carries two basket seats takes flight; where the fifteen foot inchworm with a leather padded seat operates on a slick branch, and where the five foot tall ant that seats five is tucked away. Staff members operated the steampunkish, Jules Verne-inspired animals and strapped visitors into suspended seats that rose high above the ground or were lowered into deep dips in the floor.
The visit ended with a look at the studios where they build these machines and then a short walk along a large metal branch that will, in five years, be only a small part of a whole metal tree walkway above Nantes.
On Saturday we went to Clisson and then to a vineyard. Clisson immediately became the setting of my NaNoWriMo novel this year; a tiny, gorgeous city surrounding a decrepit but impressive castle. It rained at the vineyard, but not enough to dissuade us from taking the tour and attending the wine tasting. Wine tastings in France are not like ones in the US. In the US, I've seen wine tastings--I guess that's the first difference. I am twenty and it is wholly legal and chill for me to attend a casual wine tasting in France. But in any case, in the US, I've seen wine tastings with tiny splashes of wines in different tiny glasses. Sometimes people spit it out after they taste it. I don't quite know the details, but the quantities are small. Here, we were given one glass, and it was filled. Therefore, to taste the other two wines, it was necessary to drink the first one completely, which I did. Three times. They were quite nice wines but I do not want any more wine this weekend.
This week saw very little changed from last week; I went to ballet and Arabic Civilization class on Monday. Tuesday I tried to go to Art History class, but the tram was cut short because of the pharmacists' strikes and so I gave up and went to IES early for theatre. So there was that; a tram line out of service because of strikes. I've been cast as the mechanical doll in the theatre production and perhaps this week I will bring my pointe shoes to rehearsal. We'll see what works best with the role. Wednesday I went to politics class and then rushed home and then rushed out again to ballet, which was incredible. The teacher is appropriately strict, the combinations appropriately challenging, and the teacher's assistant appropriately jaw-droppingly poised, flexy, and helpful. On Thursday I went to the history classes on Africa and Latin America and then went to IES to hang around for a couple hours just because I could.
There's no homework here. I finally have an assignment for the class on the Law of the EU and it's my final dissertation project. I should get on that.
Friday, I met with Sydney for lunch and then we went to the Machines de L'Ile, a tourist attraction/cultural center of Nantes. Julie was supposed to accompany us, but since someone tagged along who was not on the list, there weren't enough tickets, so she handed me the stack of entry cards, slipped the "group chaperone: free" ticket into my pocket, and told me to lead the group to the gallery and the ticket counter after the carousel.
The carousel is themed "Marine Worlds" and consists of three levels: the seabed, the abyss, and the sea surface. This is to say that the carousel on the bottom floor has fantastically large squid with mechanical tentacles, enormous blue crabs with pincers that snip, and tiny lobsters with seats specifically fit for very tiny babies. The second floor consists of floating fish; fish that you find in the middle of the sea with large teeth and strange glowing lures that are the size of couches and equipped with leather seats in their tummies for the passengers. The very top floor is where we were allowed to ride the carousel and we did indeed have fun. I have video of Sydney riding a flying fish bicycle, Emy and Audrey inside a conch shell, Emiliana perched inside an over-sized walnut shell. I managed to get on the large flying fish with the other Megan in the IES program and it rose up and down as we operated its fins and pressed the level to open its mouth.
The gallery is where the famous elephant lives, and is also where the heron that flies, screams, and carries two basket seats takes flight; where the fifteen foot inchworm with a leather padded seat operates on a slick branch, and where the five foot tall ant that seats five is tucked away. Staff members operated the steampunkish, Jules Verne-inspired animals and strapped visitors into suspended seats that rose high above the ground or were lowered into deep dips in the floor.
The visit ended with a look at the studios where they build these machines and then a short walk along a large metal branch that will, in five years, be only a small part of a whole metal tree walkway above Nantes.
On Saturday we went to Clisson and then to a vineyard. Clisson immediately became the setting of my NaNoWriMo novel this year; a tiny, gorgeous city surrounding a decrepit but impressive castle. It rained at the vineyard, but not enough to dissuade us from taking the tour and attending the wine tasting. Wine tastings in France are not like ones in the US. In the US, I've seen wine tastings--I guess that's the first difference. I am twenty and it is wholly legal and chill for me to attend a casual wine tasting in France. But in any case, in the US, I've seen wine tastings with tiny splashes of wines in different tiny glasses. Sometimes people spit it out after they taste it. I don't quite know the details, but the quantities are small. Here, we were given one glass, and it was filled. Therefore, to taste the other two wines, it was necessary to drink the first one completely, which I did. Three times. They were quite nice wines but I do not want any more wine this weekend.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)