Retrospective Post #3: Family Get-togethers in Alsace, or My Plate Runneth Over

Last post I mentioned that, in all my travels since November, I have mostly been revisiting favorite spots. While I’m ready to venture more into the unknown, there is one place that will always an extra-special place in my heart. I don’t think I will ever tire of going back to Alsace, where I have many fond memories of long summers en famille: Climbing cherry trees in my grandparents’ backyard. Riding the grand-huits with cousins at Europapark. Devouring a post-hike pie of freshly picked blueberries in the Vosges Mountains. Walking to the Super U supermarket with my grandmother and always coming back with something just for me, whether it be a piping hot croissant or a barrette for my hair…or both. Putting too much whipped cream on my strawberries—or for that matter, never refusing dessert of any kind. Taking in the crazy fashions in the window-shops and laughing at poorly dubbed American soaps with my aunt. Getting tongue-tied as I talk excitedly for hours with aunts and uncles, who will inevitably throw in the occasional, extremely cute “’ello! ‘ow arrre you?” or “Zank you!” Growing up, reunions with my relatives were tearfully joyous, and my sad trip home meant a little uncertainty as to when I would return.

Fortunately, between my internship at HEC Paris and Alan’s orders to Italy, I’ve been able to see my extended family a lot more than I expected. Thanks to my very flexible schedule and direct flights from Naples, I’ve already been back twice this year alone. Each time, I am greeted with wide-open arms…and endless plates of charcuterie (a typically Alsatian spread of sausage, cured or smoked hams, and other meaty confections for serious carnivores only). Since I didn’t eat much of this as a kid, charcuterie and I have a slightly ambivalent relationship. While I relish the rather rare degustation of said products, they are pretty darn heavy on my raised-on-health-foods stomach. It really is tasty stuff…but the typical Alsatian’s concept of daily meat intake is, I think, a little different from my own.

As is always the case when I visit family, I was very spoiled during my trips…in the kitchen and out. When I arrived for the first time in February, the air was significantly chillier than in Naples, and dustings of snow lingered on the ground. What better way to warm up than to enjoy a steaming plate of Rabbit with Leek and Chanterelle Sauce, atop a bed of Spaetzle (a delectably doughy Alsatian pasta)?



The salad kind of throws off the balance of the plate…that was my fault. The French prefer their salads à part—on the side.

And here is Grandpapa, who has become quite the chef:



After enjoying long catch-up chats with my Grandparents (it had already been more than a year and a half since my last visit…how time flies!), it was time to see my aunt and uncle in the campagne (countryside). There was significantly more snow on the ground there, so we stayed in most of the time. We did brave the cold briefly to go to downtown Mulhouse…only to warm ourselves in the shops. Here I am with my (tall!) cousin Vérène, standing in the quaint Place de la Réunion.



Later that week I headed back to Mulhouse to spend some time with my aunt Geneviève. Despite plummeting temperatures and menacing skies, we also enjoyed warming up in the shops. (I even scored a pair of free rain boots! It must be because they thought I was too cute. Actually, it was the last pair, and one of the shoes had been discolored by the sun.) We hit the movie theater as well, where we saw George Clooney’s latest film (which was mercifully subtitled, giving my language-fried brain a bit of a breather). On our way home from the movies—surprise!—the snow was really coming down. Having spent my last two years in Jacksonville, I can’t say this was something I saw every day, so I was enamored with the beauty of each dancing snowflake. But I was also cold…so we booked it back home.




That’s what it looked like from the comfort and warmth of my aunt’s home. And this is an example of the aforementioned charcuterie:



This is pâté-en-croute (not the sort of thing you would ask your Mom to cut the crusts off of), paired with a Mâche salad (that makes the meat OK) and my favorite cheese ever, the slightly pungent, ash-striped Morbier (it happily made an appearance at our wedding).

The following day, we had a lunch date with Jacqueline, who is such a close friend of the family I call her my honorary grandma. Unfortunately, what is beautiful to the eyes is not always beautiful for cars:



We decided to go for it, hoping the conditions wouldn’t worsen after seeing an overturned car on the way. Still, I couldn’t help but admiring how cute the Alsatian houses were under all that snow:



I was really glad we made it. It’s always a joy to visit Jacqueline, who at 80+ years has more energy than I do, and is a veritable font of knowledge in all things domestic. She is a master cook, though her methods are à l’ancienne—meaning she doesn’t shy away from using things like goose fat and lard. She is also a master gardener and seamstress, and on top of that has a wealth of helpful tricks stored up in her head. (For example, she hardly wastes anything. The crumbs from her breakfast tartine go not in the trash but into the mouths of her neighbor’s chickens.) One of these days I would like to be her apprentice. I’d learn everything from making jelly from the fruits in your yard to using garden shears to rid your flowers of slugs (that’s explicit enough, I think!) to ironing bed sheets and kitchen towels without going nuts. Move over, Martha Stewart. This is the real deal.

It goes without saying that we had a delightful lunch. We started with foie gras d’oie, with a little surprise on the side:



+




= DELICIEUX!

That confit d’oignons was new for me, but oh-so-wonderful. It is a sort of sweet onion marmalade, which provides a perfect balance to the creaminess of the goose liver pate. More, please!

We switched to red wine for the lamb (I may be able to roast one myself, but hers is way better) and accompagnements.





We had to rest our stomachs a little before the next part, made of apricots straight from last year’s garden:



I usually throw away that extra ball of dough when I make pie crust, but Jacqueline turns it into a simple lattice. Throw in some toasted nuts and coconut milk, and you’ve got a blue-ribbon winner!

Though I was sad to say goodbye, my stomach and I were happy campers:



On my second trip up, I had the pleasure of more chats over food with my Grandparents, learning the tricks of the trade at Jacqueline’s, and seeing my uncle from Strasbourg and his wife. Unfortunately, I didn’t get any good pictures of the rest of my family (I am too entranced, it seems, by the steaming plates in front of me), but on my next trip I’ll be poised to go with my Fujifilm. Not to mention my stomach. But most of all, I’m exercising my arms for more happy hugging.