My food memory is a French cookbook which was given to me in my school days by the Lemasson’s, my French exchange family. The cookbook is printed in French and they translated the recipes into English for me. This book represents the inspiration I took from my time in France and also the great respect I learned for food and the occasion of eating.
I grew up in Bristol, England which is twinned with the city of Bordeaux in France. Due to the close proximity, I spent most of my childhood holidays in France and I also visited on several occasions whilst at college. I have fond food memories of these college trips especially trying novel new foods; I tried my first oyster in a shed in Arcachon after visiting the oyster beds, I sampled frog legs, snails, horse, fois gras and white asparagus – all things I had never seen in the UK before. I remember being awestruck at the respect for ingredients and the simplicity by which they were prepared.
Whilst at school I took part in a French Exchange programme where I stayed with the Lemasson family just outside Bordeaux. I was amazed by the mid week dinners I had whilst there. The family went to great lengths to prepare normal ‘everyday’ meals. Dinner was a communal affair, it would consist of a starter, main course, salad, cheese and dessert. I was surprised to see these parents who worked similar hours and in the same type of high pressured jobs people in Britain did, put this much effort into dinner and not simply reheat food. Although there was a language barrier, I quickly learned that this way of dining was simply the norm for them. It shows the respect they had for food and the event of eating – something I learned a great deal about during my time spent with the Lemasson family.
Standout dishes prepared by the mother of the house include Veal in a Martini Rosso sauce and a Rice & Vegetable ‘Cake’.
On my third visit to the Lemasson family I spent Christmas with them at their friend’s house in Toulon. I brought a traditional British Christmas pudding which they served cold. It was obvious they were not overly impressed with the pudding but were polite and ate it. The following year they came to England and spent Christmas with my family, they were pleasantly surprised when the Christmas pudding was brought to the table hot and alight – as it should be. This time they ate it with gusto and there was much discussion around why I didn’t mention that it was meant to be heated the previous year!
It was during this trip they gave me my French cookbook and many years later I still refer back to it for inspiration.
Ben Batterbury
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