Lemon Tart

A Kir for Bastille Day

 
 

It's true this post should be tomorrow in honour of the return of  Thirsty Thursdays, but today is Bastille Day, so it seemed fitting. July 14, La Fête Nationale, or Bastille Day, is France's big national holiday, which takes place on the anniversary of the storming of the Bastille prison in Paris during the revolution in 1789. Its a pretty big deal and there is usually lots of grand military parades, air shows, music and plenty of celebrations as the whole country takes the day off and parties like its 1789. Surely all of this along with lots of good food and drink.

Those who know me, and if you've been a regular reader, know that I have a particular soft spot for France.  Its people, art, food, way of life, language, even its quirks and idiosyncrasies, all touch me where I live. I been so lucky to have spent quite a bit of time there as a curious tourist, spent some time with locals, DG has worked there, and we've come to adore the country. So much so that the last time I entered the country, after a magical 3 weeks in Italy, I got a lump in my throat and a tear in my eye, simply from the overwhelming feeling of coming home. This is a place that I would call home, fairly easily if the chance ever presented itself. 

In honour of Bastille Day, I'm sharing with you a classic before dinner drink. A Kir is a simple melange of wine and Cassis and a common aperitif. Its old school and while some people might think it old fashioned, I happen to love it and order it frequently both at home and abroad. While most commonly made with white wine, although a version made with red wine is called a Kir Cardinale, Kirs come in many shapes and sizes. Some are made with Peach liqueur, called a Kir Peche, or with Raspberry liqueur, called a Kir Framboise, and then there's the Kir Violette, a sexy number made with a brilliantly purple violet liqueur from the Loire Valley. When in a festive mood I would suggest a Kir Royale, using Champagne in place of the white wine, or its equal cousin, the Kir Alsace made with the lovely sparkling wine of Alsace, called Cremant.

 

The Kir originated in the area of Dijon, in Burgundy, on the Eastern side of the country. This town is known for its Dijon mustard, of which not a jar is made anymore - sadly a victim of large scale food production- and Cassis, the blackcurrant liqueur not to be confused with the light and fruity  wine made of Cassis in the Riviera. Its named after Dijon's wartime Mayor, Felix Kir, who popularized it by serving it frequently to visiting delegates in the period following WWII. Traditionally it would have also been made with the local fruity white wine, Aligote. 

I had my very first Kir in Dijon some 5 years ago on our first trip to France. It seemed appropriate. And of course I left that city with not only the requisite Dijon mustard, but a bottle of Cassis as well, and returned home making it until every drop of that tasty, inky, sweet liqueur was gone. 

  
I love this drink for its simplicity as the perfect pre dinner drink. I always have Cassis in my liquor cabinet and inexpensive white wine around. Its lighter than a cocktail, but a little more special than a simple glass of wine. While I have frequently made it mixed with some of my homemade Framboise, the classic version is what I make the most and in winter a Kir Cardinal is the perfect way to cover up a bottle of disappointing red wine I've opened on a previous night. In fact I dare say the making of a Kir in this house often follows a  bottle of wine we simply cant be bothered to drink by itself again. A cloak of rich Cassis nicely covers up a bland wine.

I'll be likely having one of these tonight. Sante to all of the lovely French people I've met over the years and a country that feels a lot like home.

Strawberry Fields {not} Forever : Classic Strawberry Tarts

 

I love going to the source for my food. Heading out to the farm to buy produce you know has been harvested within hours of buying it, seeing the very plants that have produced it, and even being able to pick it yourself, are all ways of buying food that gives me some control over its quality. This whole "eat local" mantra that has amazingly seeped into mainstream culture, is based on this very idea. Living in a big city means I can't feasibly do this with each fruit crop, but strawberries grow well on Canada's West Coast and they are abundant down here. I feel passionate about supporting these farmers and in my own small way ensuring that I will be able to enjoy such fruits as strawberries. But let's not forgot the real reason for my trek to the farm : They taste amazing! And with a trunk full of berries I get to make these beautiful classic strawberry tarts until I almost get sick of them, although unfortunately the season is too short for any danger of that happening.

A simple strawberry tart is certainly my most anticipated seasonal dessert. Its the first real fruit experience of the growing season, and after eating apple, oranges, and frozen fruit for so long, these juicy, sun drenched red fruits are those of dreams. A simple strawberry tart is one of life's truly greatest desserts and few combinations properly celebrate this darling berry. The crust is a crisp, buttery, tart dough which is basically a butter cookie. Its crunch adding the necessary contrasting texture to the soft fruit and the vanilla flecked custard base it cradles. The stars of the party, needing not a drop of extra sugar, balance on top. You can eat a lot of these if you let yourself, I assure. And you can just as easily make these topped with  raspberries and then blueberries as they come into season, although I confess they will not be quite as beautiful. By then we'll be used to summer fruits abounding the produce stands and markets, so our early summer excitement will have become jaded. Its my theory that a fruit like a strawberry has so much affection for it not only because of its amazing taste, but because we know we can't have berries like these for very long. Strawberry fields are really NOT forever.
 
I neglected to take a photo of the historic bridge to Westham Island. This stunning photo of the 100 year old landmark is courtesy of Jerk with a Camera.

When mid June hits, you'll find me driving out to the small agricultural community of Westham Island, about a 30 minute drive from my home in Vancouver. This island is home to many family owned berry farms, a winery, and has a notable bird sanctuary.  As you head out to the island you'll see a large community of permanent houseboats on the water, which is one of the largest in Canada. The Island is connected by this charming wooden bridge that turns 100 years this year.

Upon entrance onto the island, just in case you were worried about who would protect you from, well, something, a large sign reminds you that it is protected by the local gun club. Good to know...I'll get my strawberries and be on my way, thanks!