Luke Nguyen's France : a gastronomic adventure

321 Pages·2015·19.53 MB·English

by  Nguyen

This book is dedicated to my beautiful, kind-hearted
family in France, who I admire and respect dearly. You
have all been such an inspiration for my cooking and
you’ve shown me how to really live life to the fullest.
Bisous to Christophe, Laurent, Isabelle, Raymond,
Richard, Anton, Aunty 2, Thi, Sawa and Momo.
CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
INTRODUCTION
1. PARIS
2. STRASBOURG & FRANCHE-
COMTÉ
3. LYON
4. MARSEILLE
5. NICE
6. BIARRITZ
7. ÎLE D’OLÉRON
8. LOIRE VALLEY
9. NORMANDY & BRITTANY
BASIC RECIPES
GLOSSARY
COPYRIGHT PAGE
INTRODUCTION
My incredible food journey to France, the subject of my latest
television show, started where much of my recent life has been
centred: in Vietnam. After spending so much time there, I’ve
become increasingly intrigued by the nuances of Vietnamese
cuisine, and in trying to find out what makes one region’s food
distinct from another. So many influences have shaped regional
Vietnamese food and culture — you only have to visit Hoi An to see
clear architectural traces of Japan, for example, or eat any noodle
dish to sense the huge impact China has had.
I’ve spent a lot of time investigating Vietnam’s unique regional dishes and
cooking styles, and the more people I speak to about differences, similarities,
influences and history, the clearer it becomes that the French, who colonised
Vietnam from the mid-19th century until its independence in 1945, have left an
indelible mark.
As I’ve pondered the Gallic-inspired architecture of Dalat, noticed how
European in feel are the wide boulevards of Saigon, and sipped coffee with my
stuffed baguette (filled with omelette and pâté — how French are such things!)
in Hanoi, my quest to identify food links between France and Vietnam has really
taken off. I’ve spoken with older Vietnamese people who can still remember the
colonial era, and are able to list all the foods they never really ate before the
French came, but that today are considered staples: sure, bread, coffee and wine
are obvious examples, but cabbage, dill, tomatoes, potatoes, asparagus, carrots
and lettuce are less so. Before the French, the locals never ate beef, or used eggs
much at all. But today these ingredients are everyday items in the Vietnamese
pantry, and this is totally due to the French influence.
As well as individual ingredients, there are entire dishes and cooking
techniques that I now realise we can credit the French for. All those cold cuts of
meat the Vietnamese do so well were originally French-inspired, for sure. Then
meat the Vietnamese do so well were originally French-inspired, for sure. Then
there are all our raw, leaf-based salads, garnishes and accompaniments, which
are unique in Asian cookery; the idea for these has to have come from Europe.
Bo tai chanh, or citrus-cured beef, reminds me of steak tartare. Bo sot vang, a
classic beef dish braised in red wine, is absolutely French in the way it is cooked
and in some of its ingredients. And I know I’m not alone in thinking that even
pho — perhaps the best-known of all Vietnamese dishes — has been informed
by that great French classic, pot-au-feu: poached beef and vegetables in a rich,
clear, meaty stock. Some of our culinary words are borrowed from the French
too. For example, cà phê means ‘café’, ga tô (from gâteau) means ‘cake’, and
patê sô is a savoury puff pastry whose name derives from the French Pâré chaud.
Before a quick reconnaisance for the television show, I’d never been to
France. On so many levels I was super-excited about finally going there,
especially as a chef — after all, this country is known as the centre of the
epicurean universe. The quality of the ingredients, the reverence the French have
for their food, the way they buy fresh produce from the most fabulous markets,
as well as the calibre of their restaurants; these are all things I’d wanted to
experience first hand for a very long time.
When I finally arrived, I was like a kid in a candy store, and could never quite
believe how beautiful and inspiring the food culture actually is.
On my journey to France to uncover food links back to Vietnam, I met so
many wonderful chefs, home cooks, suppliers and knowledgeable food
enthusiasts, and their passion for food completely blew me away. I’ve had
countless experiences throughout France that will forever stay with me. Like
seeing the unbelievably exquisite presentation at Pierre Hermé, the Parisian
sweets shop in which all the staff wear white gloves and the cakes look like
jewels. Or following Rachel Roussel-Voisard around her lush, green farm in the
Franche-Comté as she spoke lovingly to her special Bresse chickens, treating
them like her own children. Discovering regional specialities such as choucroute
and hearty fleischschnacka in Alsace, where the vibe and the food seem more
German than French (but shhhh… don’t tell the French I said that). Drinking the
wine of my life (Jura chardonnay) at Château de Germigney and not even
thinking about the bill (it wasn’t small). Tending bees on a Parisian city rooftop,
while taking in the most breathtaking architectural backdrop. Coaxing a hugely
famous, jealously guarded recipe for chicken liver gâteau from the lovely owners
of one of the most famed bouchons in Lyon. Cooking up a fish storm on the
Marseille waterfront with my friend Georgiana, right in front of the fishermen,
and in the sights of a local oil painter.
On every level — people, history, architecture, culture AND the food —
France reall reall delivers.
France reall reall delivers.
Truthfully, my knowledge of the French food regions wasn’t vast before my
visit. For the television series I picked places that would help piece together the
Vietnam–France food puzzle for me: Paris to look into pot-au-feu, for example.
But I also chose areas and towns that are simply wonderful food destinations in
their own right, with plenty of interesting produce, down-to-earth food people
and so much for me to learn and put into my own cooking.
I was also biased towards places where my extended family live — another
big reason for my excitement at spending time in France. So many relatives,
some of whom I’d never met before, ended up in France, in the same way that
my own immediate family ended up in Australia.
I wanted to know their story, their links to Vietnam, and their relationship
with the food of both their homeland and their adopted country. My uncle, Paul
Sabourdy, is now 75 years old; he’s my mum’s brother, and something of a
character. We’d never met in person and had so much catching up to do after all
these years. When he made me lunch I was fascinated to see that he cooked in a
half-French, half–Vietnamese style, using pâté, red wine, thyme, mustard and
soy sauce in the one veal dish. His adult kids have somehow all ended up in the
hospitality industry, and it was a real highlight to cook alongside my cousin
Laurent in his new restaurant in Paris, called Le Bistro d’Indochine (or Bistro
Indochine in English). His food style is quite different to mine; not surprisingly,
he uses some French techniques, and his food reflects a more modern take on
Vietnamese cuisine. But from him I learned so much about French cooking
finesse, and we had an amazing time sharing the stove.
Thanks to my cousins for taking me under their wing and showing me all of
their favourite haunts, I was able to enjoy Paris like a local. For this experience
alone, I will never forget my time in France.