The Liebster award

The Liebster blog award is one of the coolest blogging awards I have received, because it is a different take on the chain-blog. It recognizes blogs with fewer than 200 followers in the hopes of expanding their readership.

I do not deny that followers are important to me; every time a new follower signs up I do a little happy dance, and if one leaves I ponder what I am doing wrong. Just as blogging has become more to me than updates on our life in France, my followers have become more than just people who read my blog. They are my gateway to blog-world and to other remarkable blogs. Followers also answer questions and solve problems through their comments; and at a more basic level, followers are like friends.

And so a GIANT merci beaucoup for the award Aidan! Aidan’s blog is Conjugating Irregular Verbs: letters from my dining table in the south of France. My first thought on reading her post was that her blog would have been on the list of my five favorites, and my second was what, she doesn’t have 200 followers?

So after narrowing down my favorites (liebster in German means dearest, favorite or beloved) I’ve come up with these five blogs that I believe deserve more followers. I hope you have the time to visit them and have a look yourself.

1. Zosia at Polonica: Home Again. After 21 years of living and working in Canada, she’s back in Poland and keeping this journal of rediscovering her home country. Through her posts and her photographs I’m becoming acquainted with a Poland I would like to visit someday. I’m also impressed that she posts each and every post in Polish as well as English, it dwarfs my attempt at trans-posting (?) in Latvian!

2. Mook at Hello Latvia. After growing up in Australia, Mook has now been living in Latvia for ten years. I see the posts about her two sons as lessons on how to raise a couple of boys, but I also appreciate the insight on a country that has shaped my life despite never having lived there, from another mother that can look at it with the eyes of someone not having lived there her entire life.

3. Bridget at Tales of a Tai Tai. I read her blog for the first time because of the similarities in our blogs’ names – a tai tai is also a woman who stays at home – and then I was hooked. She lives in Hong Kong with her husband and 5 week old son, and the last month I’ve been reliving the joys of being a first-time parent through her posts as we start our life as a family of four here in Clermont. Bridget’s Hong Kong is alive and vibrant, as are her high-quality pictures.

4. B at Is There Such a thing as too much cheese. I’m sorry I discovered this blog shortly before she moved from France back to Australia, as I could have used the insights on French culture, traveling and food. However her journey is only getting more exciting as she awaits the birth of her first with her husband in Melbourne. (And the due date is soon, can’t wait to meet little B through the blog!)

5. Momma at HJ Underway. Having just moved to Paris from the East Coast (of the US) with  husband and little boy HJ, her brand new blog is a fresh look on the expatriation process with all its trials and snags. I can sense the excitement of it all and it reminds me of our arrival here in France; Momma, I hope you don’t lose that spark!

If you would like to keep the blog love going, you

- link back to the blogger who awarded you as a big thanks!

- copy and paste the blog award on your blog

- reveal your 5 blog picks

- let them know you choose them by leaving a comment on their blog

Thanks to each and every one of my followers, subscribers and readers, and I hope you enjoy my five picks!

Meteņi

When the days start getting longer and spring is just around the corner, Latvians celebrate Meteņi. Seven weeks before Easter, it is celebrated the day before Catholic Ash Wednesday. In other countries this day is called  Shrove Tuesday, Pancake Tuesday, Pancake Day, Mardi Gras, and Fat Tuesday. The coming of spring is associated with old fertility rituals to promote and enrich the new growing season, and one of these rituals is sledding. During meteņi the higher the hill and the faster the sled, the higher and faster your crops will grow. Lauris and Mikus have already commenced with the growing, no sledding necessary; yesterday came the moment I put away a good portion of Mikus's 0-3 month clothes and sorted through Lauris's old clothes for all the 3-6 month outfits.

Baby boot camp: Mikus doing his daily pushups

We celebrated Meteņi with the traditional foods, Latvian pancakes and Meteņa maizītes, or as called in my family, štopkūkas, and a few guests to help eat them (instead of going sledding). The ladies came over with Lauris’s best buddies, and in no time the living room was transformed into a crèche, with toys spread evenly over the floor like a carpet, the decibel reading at levels just under “earplugs needed”, and unbelievably, only one ice-pack required over the course of the afternoon.

The three amigos reunited

So back to the štopkūkas*... Our adventure with whipped cream continued as we bought several varieties of cream and did some research. A comment left on the Bizet day post mirrored what my friend Evdoxia had advised, to use a powder with the cream to help it whip better, while another friend recommended buying cream over a 30% fat content (whipping cream in the US I believe is 36%). So we searched our local stores but didn’t find the powder, and we now have at least five different types of cream in the refrigerator. Our luck turned when Evdoxia showed up Thursday with a bottle of the needed cream (crème fluide with a fat content of 30%) and a box of the Chantifix (Vahiné brand in this case), and we were able to finish the štopkūkas without using the back-up bottle of onctuesuse (Reddi-wip in the US) I had found. 

This recipe is my mother’s, and I’ve noted the minor modifications we made to utilize it here in France.

Ingredients for Latvian Meteņu maizītes:

            ¾ cups milk

            ¼ cup sugar

            1 tsp. salt

            ¼ cup butter (unsalted)

            1 tsp. lemon zest

            ¼ cup warm water

            1/3 of a 2 ounce cake of fresh yeast (we used 1 envelope of dry yeast)

            1 egg + egg for brushing the tops

            3 ½ cups sifted flour (we used only about 3 as the flour is finer)

            1-2 tbsp. chopped or sliced almonds

            1 cup whipping cream (we used 20 cl crème fluide  + 1 packet Chantifix)

            3 tbsp. powdered sugar + more for final decoration

            vanilla is optional

           

1. Preheat oven to 400º.

2. Heat milk to almost boiling, then add sugar, salt, butter and lemon zest. Stir until sugar has melted and then set aside to cool.

3. Proof the yeast in the warm water with a little sugar.

4. Beat the egg, and once the milk mixture has cooled add the egg and the yeast. Slowly, and mixing the entire time, add the flour until it becomes too stiff to mix, then knead with hands. Be careful not to add too much flour.

5. Once the dough is smooth, place in a greased bowl with a towel covering it and let rise in a warm spot until doubled. Lightly knead, then let rise another half an hour.

6. Divide the dough into 12-15 pieces. Stretch each piece into a square, then fold corners under to form a sort of ball before placing on a greased cookie sheet. Brush lightly with egg yolk, sprinkle with almonds and let rise another thirty minutes.

7. Cook in preheated oven 15 minutes or until lightly browned.

8. Whip cream with powdered sugar and vanilla.

9. When the little breads have cooled, cut the very top off with a sharp knife and scoop out the insides. Fill with whipped cream, place the top back on and decorate with powdered sugar.

Labu apetīti!

Un daudz laimes dzimšanas dienā manai mīļai māšelei Annai Pannai!!! Ieēdīšu štopkūku tev par godu!

* My French friend Marion informed me that there is something similar in look (but is in fact a pastry, more than a bread) to the štopkūka here in France, the choux à la crème.

Frozen

The temperatures have warmed some, but the wind still has the potential to force us indoors, as we found on our last excursion here in Clermont-Ferrand. I feel as though there is so much right here in town to show my mother, but we’ve been slow to see the sights due to the combination of cold weather and little children.

Last Friday we made it to the Jardin Lecoq. The fountain was a little frozen.

You know, it usually looks more like this...

La Pyramide Desaix wasn’t faring much better.

The “pyramid” is the name that the people of Clermont call the giant obelisk at the intersection northwest of Jardin Lecoq. It celebrates the memory of the general who died at Marengo in 1800. The urn on top of the obelisk is believed to contain Desaix’s heart, and the decoration, which was begun by the sculptor Chinard, was never finished.

Monday we stopped in the Cathédrale Notre-Dame-de-l’Assomption and then, after passing through Place du Terrail we visited Basilique Notre-Dame-du-Port. However by the time we got to Place Delille we started feeling like icicles ourselves and chose to hop on a tram back home. Not before I snapped this picture of one of the Fountaines de l’Hôtel de Ville…

The twin fountains were built in 1848 to beautify the entrance to the Town Hall. And yes, that is what Hôtel de Ville means, it’s not a hotel, but I only learned this after 7 months in France.

Although the temperatures are supposed to keep climbing through the week, I'm lucky to have two personal lap-warmers to get me through this cold spell…

Photo: Leigh Jones

Montpeyroux

With a significant increase in temperatures and a rare sunny day, we would have been remiss not to get out of Clermont-Ferrand on Saturday. For our destination, we chose Montpeyroux and the Vic-le-Comte area, a mere 25 minute drive south. In the middle of Comté, the region is made up of a series of volcanoes which form the boundary between the Limagne plain and the Livradois mountains. Most of these 50 volcanoes have been eroded to the point where only the chimneys remain, and in the past and present grape vines grow on the exposed slopes. With fantastic views of the Chaîne des Puys from points of higher elevation, and quaint hillside villages dotting the region, we could have spent an additional day or two exploring the area.

Mountpeyroux as seen from bridge over Allier near Coudes

Montpeyroux is a fortified village overlooking the Allier river situated on a hilltop; you may have seen it if you have ever taken the A 75 highway south of Clermont-Ferrand: the three story 13^th century keep can be seen for miles around. With its narrow, twisting streets, the colony of artists and craftsmen who have made it their home and its wine-growing past, the village definitely qualifies for les Plus Beaux Villages de France classification, the Association of “The Most Beautiful Villages of France.” To become a member of the Association a village must pass the four-stage selection process, and only about 150 villages have earned the distinction.

Not built of the lavastone as most of the nearby villages as well as the Cathédrale Notre-Dame-de-l’Assomption in Clermont-Ferrand, the honey hues of the village are due to the local arkose rock, a sedimentary sandstone. Many of the old houses in the village have been restored and the shutters and doors boast fresh coats of paint drawing attention to beautiful woodwork and detail.

After a stroll through the village we dined at a local restaurant before one last loop and returning to the car. Montpeyroux is a very photogenic village (between the three adults we must have taken hundreds of pictures), but the town did not seem very lively. This may be because it is off-season, and the many artisan workshops and stores were all closed and due to reopen only in April, but there was also a lack of many things that gave nearby Vic-le-Comte the opposite feeling: boulangeries, cafés, doctor and dentist’s offices. Instead all the businesses seemed primarily tourist-driven, and on a Saturday in February the streets were completely quiet with the exception of the occasional tourist or car passing by.

Our next stop was Puy St-Romain, an ancient place of worship with a striking view of the Comté Puys, the Forez mountains, the Livradois mountains, the Vic-le-Comte basin, the Allier valley, the Cantal, Dore and Dôme mountains and Clermont-Ferrand. Though I base this on the Auvergne Michelin Guide as we only saw the southern view, because after braving the snow and mud two-track that lead to the “parking” area (I’d call it a sinkhole) and encountering the locals that looked at us as if we were crazy for even coming that far, we didn’t hike very far from the car. Lauris and Roberts made it all the way to the field bordering the sinkhole, I kept within 5 feet of the car, and my mother was forced (by me) to trudge 10 meters down the road to snap some pictures of the view. I hope we have the opportunity to return during a warmer and drier month. (I would also add that although the Michelin Guide lists the hike to the summit as a 45 minute round trip, it looked to be an arduous hike.)

Photo: Inga Lucāne

Final destination, Vic-le-Comte, home of the papermill owned by the Bank of France that makes the watermarked paper used for the French EU monetary units. (By the way, these are printed only blocks from our apartment in a complex in Chamalières!) We luckily found the town center and the Sainte-Chapelle minutes before the doors were closed, and were able to see the unbelievable stained-glass windows and the stone altarpiece from 1520. In the streets surrounding the church were several half-timbered and corbelled houses with 15^th and 16^th century facades, as well as Porte Robin, the only remains of the fortified curtain wall. We ended our tour in Place du Vieux Marché, with its 16^th century fountain that was currently turned off before returning to the car for a short, 25 minute drive home.

Half-timbered house in Vic-le-Comte

A bizet day

The past week has really flown by. As we adjust to life as a family of four, I’m thankful every day that my mother is here to help. Not only is she the extra pair of hands to hold Mikus while he gets his bath, or to wrangle Lauris into his snow pants and coat, but she is also the suggestion on what to make for dinner, the discussion on a novel we have both read, the photographer with prudence to have camera on hand for all those perfect moments, the adult conversation between readings of Babar, the patience I seem to be short on these days, the one to spoil Lauris rotten and most recently, culinary sidekick. (Of course she has done so much more these past weeks, but the sentence had run on long enough!)

Obligatory photograph of  Mikus
Photo: Inga Lucans

About three or four years ago I asked my aunt Zinta for her baiser torte recipe (we call it a bizet torte), but having gotten it I never did attempt it. Zinta’s tortes are perfect, the family recipe and many years of practice evident in every bite. We were lucky enough to have a couple of her bizets at our wedding, and when discussing this with my mother we agreed that there is never any left when one goes back for seconds! I’ve been wanting to try my hand at making one, but have never overcome the fear of meringue and torte construction, much less dared to hope that any of my attempts would come close to the ideal of how they should taste. Yet with my mother here I decided now would be an ideal time to try, so Sunday we gave it a shot.

The funniest thing is, my mother (although an experienced cook with a specialty in Latvian foods) had never made a meringue either! She assured me that would be the hardest part, neither of us had imagined the torte construction would take the entire day. So we beat the egg whites, added the powdered sugar, spread the mixture out in layers and put these in the oven to dry, and it turns out this was the easiest half of the project.

Note the miscellaneous stuff on my counter - Tabasco, espresso maker, pacifiers...

Differences in French ingredients strike again! The whipping cream would not whip. And I mean, every time it looked like it was developing peaks, it would immediately return to its original state. After more than an hour with the hand mixer we gave up and built the torte in a pie dish to catch the liquid “layers”. Freezing helped, this way it retained some of its cake form while allowing us to cut slices the following day when my friends came to visit.

Looks ok, if you ignore the pie dish full of cream...

However, the taste was right; each guest took a slice at first to be polite, then asked for seconds (and maybe even thirds) having had a bite. This is the first time in my life I have had unlimited access to a bizet torte, and I’m thinking the quantity I’ve consumed in the past three days can not be healthy! Once I find the secret to whipping cream I will be giving it another shot, I think this recipe competes with desserts from Clermont’s finest patisserie!