Cassoulet: - a very naughty French dish (supposedly)

One thing I have noticed is that Anglo-Saxon women like to talk about "naughty" foods, i.e. ones that contain fat.  This shows a very poor understanding of how to eat properly.  A Frenchwoman does not go around thinking about forbidden foods and which foods are "naughty" to eat.  Silly Anglo-Saxon woman talk about "naughty, but nice", as shown in the advertisement below (whose saying was popularised by Salman Rushdie) for cream cakes that featured a now-mostly-retired washed-up soap and Carry On actress (Barbara Windsor, who played Peggy Mitchell in the silly trashy British soap opera EastEnders, where vem characters off of it don't neva talk wiv no proper grammar).

As Mireille Guiliano pointed out, a Frenchwoman doesn't watch much television, so I can't really comment too authoritatively, but anyway, I digress.  A Frenchwoman doesn't do this "naughty, but nice" group.  It is mostly true to say that a Frenchwoman does not abstain from any food types, not even fatty ones.  As a reformed baptist, I am aware of at least 10 parts of the New Testament which say that all foods are fine (Matthew 15:11, Acts 10:9-16, Acts 11:1-10, Romans 14, 1Corinthians 8, 1Timothy 4:1-5, Titus 1:15, Mark 7:14-23, 1Corinthians 10:23-33 and Luke 10:8 for the readers who are interested to look them up).  The only exception to this rule is when the foods are excessively sweet.  As I often say in this blog, as far as an impossibly dainty and sophisticated Frenchwoman is concerned, a dessert should only be as sweet as it needs to be to cleanse one's palate of the previous dish.  Any sweeter than that and it becomes increasingly less sophisticated.

Onto the main point of this article, ignoring the disgusting-looking cupcakes above.  A few days ago, I was contacted by a reader in Barcelona who said that though tapas were available, it wasn't always possible to find the rich foods that would enable her to eat like a dainty Frenchwoman.  I could have told her that cassoulet is vaguely similar to the Spanish Fabada Asturiana, but I don't want her to think anything is even remotely comparable with French cuisine, so I suggested that she visit France more often, MDR.  She said that France wasn't all that accessible, given the low quantity of direct daytime trains, mentioning that the night service to Paris was due for imminent abolition.  I replied by pointing out that earlier this month, RENFE and SNCF started offering more cross-border services this month (previously, the French TGVs only went as far as Figueres) and that two of the new destinations served are Carcassonne and Toulouse.  These two settlements plus Castelnaudary are rather blasphemously referred to as the Holy Trinity of cassoulet, a very well-known dish that helps make we French people as stylish as we are.  Carcassonne is accessible in 2h22m from Barcelona using the new service and Toulouse in 3h07m, which uses the RENFE S-100 rolling stock (notably built by Alstom, a French manufacturer, tee hee), which can be seen below in Seville's Santa Justa station.

All in all, it is very easy for residents of Barcelona to travel to two of the three locations where cassoulet is native to.  Cassoulet is a very, very rich French dish.  On account of its very rich flavour, a dainty Frenchwoman feels no great need to eat large quantities of it.  It is almost the case that a Frenchwoman can take a few dainty nibbles and feel full, savouring each nibble to the fullest, as I have described doing with chocolate in earlier postings.  I have been in Carcassonne and seen stupid Americans ordering four cassoulets per person (because they look around and see how small the dishes are and assume this won't fill them up) and then finding themselves unable to get beyond the second helping.  Still, at least most of them had the good sense to appreciate the beauty of Carcassonne.  As today's weather forecast was relatively good, I suggested a visit to Carcassonne with Bilal.  As the regular readers of my blog will know, Bilal is a solitary character and has therefore not always found much occasion to travel to other areas of France, so he appreciated the change of scenery.

The main ingredients of cassoulet are meat (e.g. pork, goose meat, duck meat etc), pork skin and white beans.  This is one pleasure that a Frenchwoman can therefore enjoy whilst being relatively free of Muslims and Jews: - being a reformed baptist who believes in the principle of sola scriptura, I refer to the above parts of the Bible when someone asks me how I can gain so much pleasure from cassoulet, knowing that supposedly forbidden foods feature so heavily in it (ditto Saucisson d'Arles).  For a few years after his conversion to Christianity, Bilal continued abstaining from pork and restricting himself to halal food, so as to avoid compromising his witness with his family.  After a few years though, he eventually stopped bothering to abstain, as he realised that it is a minor issue in the enormous gulf that separates him from his Muslim family members, though he avoids doing so in front of his family still.

Bilal tried cassoulet for the first time during our visit to Carcassonne today and he also gained an enormous amount of pleasure from the incredibly rich flavour, though this is not something Bilal plans to eat regularly.  The reason for this is that Bilal is an extremely heavily built guy and needs a lot of protein to fulfil his needs, meaning that rich foods of which he feels only able to eat dainty quantities are not ultimately in his best interests.  As ever, Bilal wore his tagelmust/chèche to Carcassonne and this provoked a few stares (I also got a few stares from foreign men not used to seeing dainty Frenchwomen like me, MDR).  However, this was a wise decision, as it was fairly windy and I felt a little cold, while Bilal was wrapped up comfortably warm.  Below is a picture of a Touareg man who appears engaged in thought.  This is not Bilal, but he can often be seen with such facial expressions.

Bilal and I enjoyed our trip to Carcassonne today and I am looking forward to several such days out with him on Saturdays in future: - when one is able to engage Bilal in communication, he is a very personable man with a lot of insightful things to say.  One weekday evening, I would like to show him how to cook cassoulet, tartiflette and all the other wonderful dishes that make we Frenchwomen impossibly perfect and thin: - he was not previously used to it, but he enjoys the culinary variety.

Quasi-indefinite delays with high-speed lines

Lately, I was disturbed to hear about how our useless president François Hollande has messed up the economy and therefore made the decision to delay more or less indefinitely (construction not starting until beyond 2030, apparently) the construction of various high-speed lines.

The main ones affected are the new line to Lyon via Orléans and the two gaps leading to the Spanish border.  When the Nîmes-Montpellier bypass and the Tours-Bordeaux lines have been completed, there will still be gaps between Bordeaux and the Atlantic Spanish border (Hendaye and Irún) and Montpellier and Perpignan (there is already an international mixed high-speed/freight line that starts just after Perpignan).

I liked Nicolas Sarkozy, as he was committed to encouraging enterprise, reducing burdensome regulations on employers and reducing taxes for successful people like me (ooooh, how American I sound, lol).  He also celebrated success and isn't trying to puncture people's dreams.  As icing on the cake, he set in motion plans for a massive increase in the rate at which high-speed railway lines are built in France: - I particularly remember that under him, the design studies for the Montpellier-Perpignan connection were accelerated.

To be fair on François Hollande, the Bordeaux-Toulouse high-speed connection has been retained, but this is of little use to me personally unless I happen to be travelling there from Paris, rather than Marseille.

As for me personally, it seems a shame for SNCF to sign contracts for rolling stock that is easily able to run at 320km/h in service and for our president to then mess up the economy and delay the construction of high-speed lines as a result.

I enjoy visiting Barcelona, as it is a stylish city and a lot of the fashion stuff in Spain seems to happen there.  Spain is reasonable (though not effortlessly perfect) generally.  The CIA estimates its obesity rate to be 26.6%, which I am surprised about: - although Spanish señoritas are not as effortlessly thin as we French women, they are certainly much less obese than American and British women.

From rumours I have read, RENFE (the Spanish operator) is planning to offer Marseille-Barcelona-Madrid services sometime soon, though there have apparently been homologation issues.  I must point out that the Spanish are planning to run their international services using rolling stock supplied by Alstom (a French company, yay!), the S100, which they originally ordered for the first high-speed line they opened (this was the Madrid-Seville line in 1992).

Even when these planned services are introduced, apart from the Nîmes-Montpellier bypass currently under construction, there will still be a huge gap in the high-speed network between Montpellier and Perpignan.  I love being able to zip to lovely cities and see the countryside along the way, but I like my train journeys to be short and sharp, as time I spend on the train is time I could otherwise be spending in the market hunting for the choicest ingredients, visiting swish new restaurants for new recipe ideas or soaking up the fashion scene of whatever city I am in at the time.  As self-important upstart Americans would say, time is money!  Being an efficient French woman, a lot of my time on the trains is spent performing editorial duties on my fashion magazine: - drafts are sent to me by PDF or OpenOffice format (why should I pay to use Microsoft Office if I can get OpenOffice for free?) and I tend to plan things so that I can do editing work during the train journey.  Even so, I am disappointed in our pinko-liberal commie-socialist 75%-tax president!

I am also disappointed because I visit Perpignan regularly and love the Mediterranean atmosphere of the city and I will have to wait a lot longer to enjoy super-fast journeys all the way.

Before closing this blog entry, I thought I would be unpatriotic and mention a few things to do with railways that are done better in Spain, MDR.  Spain has the longest high-speed railway network in the whole of Europe at present and would have briefly had the longest high-speed network in the world if it weren't for delays in opening the line from Madrid to Albacete and Valencia.  I also love the way Club class on Spanish AVE services involves relatively elaborate meals compared to first class on France's TGV services: - I recall a meal with lots of dinky little breakfast items and a dinky little bottle of high-quality olive oil (though not as high as the Provence stuff).

All in all, Spain is nowhere near as impossibly perfect as France, but I am nevertheless disappointed by these delays, which I believe are the inevitable economic reality of our idiotic president's mismanagement of the economy.