Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Chapter 19
Pre-school Gourmands
After my wine class in Bergerac I waited behind two students discussing with the teacher
which wines would best match each course they had planned for the weekend. Their fifty-
minute debate took food and wine matching to a new level. Later, I mentioned to Isabelle
Daulhiac that I was planning to cook chicken in Saussignac and to serve our dry white wine
alongside the dish.
'Never, never serve a different wine to the one that went into the food,' said Isabelle in hor-
ror. 'Only use good wine for cooking and always serve the same wine that goes into the meal
with the food. This is a fundamental rule.'
No longer could wine be set aside as cooking wine. If it was good enough to cook with,
it was good enough to serve. Nowhere is French appreciation of food more apparent than
in the schools. A typical day could be endive salad to start, pan-fried fish for a main and
apple tart for dessert; or tomato soup, sausages and lentils followed by crème caramel. Chil-
dren learnt to eat a variety of foods that were adult and healthy. Sophia spotted a bunch of
radishes at the Gardonne market. I wasn't big on radishes so we didn't have them in the pot-
ager.
'We must buy these,' she said. 'We eat them at school.'
When we got home, standing on a chair, four-year-old Sophia presided over the prepara-
tions. I cut off the radish leaves and prepared to throw them into the compost bin.
'No, no!' she exclaimed. 'You must keep those to make a green salad.' I obeyed, feeling safe
in the hands of a grand connoisseur after two years in the French school system. She then
recited how to make the dressing for the radish leaves; olive oil, balsamic vinegar, sugar, a
pinch of salt.
The radish heads with a spot of cold butter dabbed onto them and the radish leaf salad were
absolutely delicious. It was the first time I had enjoyed radishes in my life.
A few days later, I came home with a cheap Camembert.
'That doesn't taste like Camembert, it tastes more like Brie,' said Sophia imperiously.
'Maybe,' I replied.
Minutes later Sean came in. 'That's bad Camembert. It tastes like Brie.'
