Lost In Limoges

From the sheep-dotted pastures of France's underpopulated Southwest, Limoges rises in all its grey glory. The city's claim to fame: fine porcelain. The half-timbered houses of the Medieval center are surrounded by strip malls and McDo. Land-hungry Brits descend with flailing pocketbooks (thanks, RyanAir). The weather is remarkably cool year-round. Sure, I live on rue de Nice, but this is NOT the Cote d'Azur. Welcome to Limoges, "the middle of nowhere"-- or as Pierre says "everywhere"-- France.

Friday, May 18, 2007

Flower Fritters: Beignets de Fleurs d'Acacia in Biscarrosse


I was skeptical. Thomas had seen a recipe on the Internet involving fleurs d'Acacia, the fragrant white flower blossoming across Les Landes. But it didn't take much arm-twisting to agree to cook these flowers for a special dessert-- after all, anything fried is good. On a morning run, Pierre and Thomas spied lots of fleurs d'Acacia on the grounds of a private yacht club. We had located our source, the prized ingredient.


Later that day, the boys stealthily snuck onto the property, tote bags and gardening shears in hand, while Mathieu and I waited in the car, motor running. Minutes later they returned at a full sprint (owner hot on their trail, apparently) and we sped off into the dusk.


Back in the kitchen, Pierre and Thomas prepared the beignet batter, while I separated the leaves from the flowers, careful to keep the stems intact to use when dipping. We clowned around in an assembly line of sorting, dipping, frying, and sugar-dusting, and the result was surprisingly tasty. (Thomas decided to fry up some bananas and apples as a back-up plan.) The flowers taste as sweet as they smell.

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