| Samedi Saint | Saturday, April 11, 2020
                
Dear Friend, 

“C’est l’été !” exclaimed Madame Francine. “It’s the summer!” She wasn’t exactly complaining, but she was rather warm. She fanned herself with a torchon, a dish cloth from which she’d just shaken out vegetable peelings. Easter is coming to the Chateau, as everywhere in France, with sunny skies and warm temperatures.

 
She had been out to see her flocks of chickens and ducks, and the couple of geese her son had given her for Christmas. Madame Francine had been too tender-hearted to eat them. Besides, she was hoping for the eggs.
 
“Bon sang!” she uttered, when I asked her how the poultry was faring. She widened her clear blue eyes and tossed her head, both indignant and remorseful. Two had perished in the night. Her friend Marie-Blanche, with whom she maintains regular telephonic contact, had warned her:
 
 "Il y a un renard qui rôde." A fox is on the hunt. Spring is the season when the little renardeaux are born -- and they and their mother must be nourished.
 
But while the foxes may be eating chicken for Easter, we are planning on a feast of lamb. In France, the lamb raised on the salt marshes on the coast, just a couple of hours away from the Chateau, is a famous delicacy. It’s a small, rustic animal – le grévin -- specially bred to digest salty herbage and resist salty ocean winds. And like wine and fine herbs that must also struggle against the elements, the agneau de pré salé is particularly delicious.
 
We’ll be roasting a gigot, a nice plump leg of lamb. I take a sharp paring knife and make little slits in the fat which I stuff with peeled bits of garlic and sprigs of rosemary from the garden. I always stock up on garlic at the end of summer, when it is harvested. I like fat firm bulbs on well-dried stalks – and I always prefer to buy it at the outdoor weekly marché in Courtomer, where the merchant sells bunches braided into long garlands tied with string. I hang it in the kitchen and pull off what I need. Next, I rub the gigot with a little olive oil and sprinkle it with gros sel. Ah ha! But which salt? No maîtresse de maison (worthy of her salt, if I may say so!) is without a preference. 

French gastronomy, like French verbs in a schoolchild’s Bescherelle, is properly organized. There are four types of salt – refined (boring), fleur de sel (fluffy and delicate, skimmed off the evaporating waters of the salt flat), aromatisé (mais non! Une cuisinière sérieuse adds her own spices, so forget this), and gros sel (the best for cooking; I prefer the greyish unrefined crystals which contain traces of algae and seaweed). Then, there are approved terroirs where salt is produced – and has been produced for thousands of years, before France or the French were a gleam in the Almighty’s eye. These are the mountains of the Pyrenees, the salt marshes of the Mediterranean Sea in Camargue, and the Atlantic Coast – two islands in the Vendée, to the south, and in the salt marshes of Guérande in Brittany. I opt for the “white gold” of Guérande. The medieval walled city, wealthy from past centuries of salt production, makes a delightful summer’s day outing – and I trust we’ll be able to visit again before too long. 
 
As the marché at Courtomer was open on Good Friday – Vendredi Saint – we’ll be enjoying traditional accompaniments to our lamb: asparagus with sauce hollandaise for the starter, then young potatoes and carrots gently steamed (throwing a little gros sel into the water for flavor) along with our lamb, a tangy goat cheese (from nearby Le Plantis), and for dessert, strawberries with thick golden Normandy cream and chocolate specialties – who can resist and why? -- from Madame Ludivine at the boulangerie. 

Easter Day starts with warm pieces of brioche aux fruits confits with our café au lait sitting on the steps in front of the Chateau. The bells of the church of Saint Lomer, which have been silent since Thursday, will chime the Angelus again – calling the faithful to prayer, despite the closing of churches during “le confinement.”
 
Easter will be different this year. I spoke with our chef Franck Eté this morning, to see how he is doing over in the Perche. His wife went to England before borders closed. She is taking care of her elderly mother, while Franck is at home with their younger son, Luc. What will you be doing for Easter, I asked. We speak English together.
 
“Cooking, of course! But, alors, I’m thinking of doing videos”, Franck added, changing the subject. “Luc is photographer, you know. He says everybody doing it.” 
 
“Yes, Franck, everybody is. I’d get right on it.”
 
Next week, Franck will be showing us how to make some of his famous dishes. Meanwhile, he sent me these recipes, which you might like to try for your feast. There is one for a small group – up to 4, and another for a larger celebration, up to 8 – or for mouth-watering left-overs.

Joyeuses Pâques! 

Cider-braised lamb Shanks

Ingredients (4 people)
4 lamb shanks 
1 onion 
1 litre of cider 
2 carrots (100 g) 
2 spoonfuls of veal stock powder or cube 
1 bay leaf 
4 teaspoons of honey 
1 teaspoon of olive oil 
2 pinches of “quatre épices” (equal parts of ground pepper, nutmeg, ginger, and cloves)
1 apple, salt, pepper

Slice the onion and carrots. In a casserole, heat the oil and brown the shanks on all sides. Add the carrots, onion and honey.
Sauté for a few minutes over low heat. when the shanks are golden, add the cider, bay leaf and veal stock. Add salt and pepper, 1 apple cut into pieces, two pinches of 4 spices and bring to a boil.  Cook for about 2 hours covered at 180°c. Remove the shanks from the pan and set aside, then reduce the juice until syrupy.

Leg of lamb à la Normande        
                                                          
Ingredients (8 people)                                                                
1 leg of lamb between 1.5 kg to 1.8 kg (3 ½ to 4 lbs)
5 cl of Calvados or Brandy (3-4 tbsp)
20 cl heavy cream (1/2 pt US)
Salt
Pepper
1 tbsp flour 
25 cl cider (1/2 pt + US)
3 cloves of garlic
100 g butter (1/4 lb)

Prick the leg of lamb and insert garlic cloves. Coat leg with three-quarters of the butter and brown on all sides in a large casserole, without blackening the butter.

When leg is golden, add salt and pepper; moisten with a little over half the cider, cover and cook for 10 minutes per pound, turning the leg over halfway through the cooking time.

Cook the leg of lamb for 10 minutes per pound, turning it over halfway through:
In the meantime, knead the remaining butter and flour; set aside. Heat the Calvados.
When the leg of lamb is cooked, remove the lid, pour in the hot Calvados and flambé (light it).

Remove the leg and keep it warm. Deglaze the sauce with the rest of the cider and boil the juices for 2 to 3 minutes.  Add the cream to the butter-flour mixture in dollops. 

Add the cream and butter mixture to the juices, in small pieces. Simmer over very low heat and keep stirring until velvety smooth.
Cut the leg of lamb into slices and present the sauce on the side.