As I sit here writing this, the church bells have just struck 6pm.  Blissful sigh.  I don’t believe I will ever get tired of that sound.  I’ve said to Clive that if we were to buy a place in France, it would need to be close enough to a church so as to hear the bells ring.  And I would also want a staircase.  (Future me might not be thankful for that last bit, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see.)

This afternoon I joined Madame Julia for afternoon tea with a couple of her close friends.  She has many good friends in Quimper and I have been fortunate enough to meet several of them during my time here.

Not long after I arrived, Madame had her neighbour over for morning coffee.  Monsieur Voisin has lived in the house next door for many years.  The house was built by his parents.  In France, the law dictates that a person’s estate must be passed down to their children and divided equally.  This can be both a blessing and a curse.  But one of the blessings for ME was that Monsieur Voisin is a master crêpe-maker.  Ah mais non, Madame tells me that I shouldn’t refer to them as crêpes, but rather les galettes bretonnes.

Galettes are deeply rooted in the culinary history of Brittany.  The wonderful key ingredient in a Breton galette is buckwheat flour, which gives it a distinctive flavour and texture, thus setting it apart from the standard white flour crêpe. Buckwheat was historically an easily grown crop in Brittany, so galettes were both available and affordable.  Although they are a specialty of the region, Breton galettes are now enjoyed all over France.  As an added bonus, buckwheat is gluten-free!  This is a very exciting discovery on my part, as a couple of my beloveds are not on particularly good terms with le gluten.

Monsieur Voisin grew up watching his aunt make galettes.  As an adult he was able to recreate her recipe and has now been making Breton galettes for over forty years.  During our morning coffee, Monsieur promised to have us over for a galette luncheon the following week.  Hoorah!

Now, not being quite up there on the intricacies of French conversation, I wondered if Monsieur’s promise had merely been a vague courtesy.  However, I later discovered that the date had been arranged.  Galettes were a go!  I was very excited because Madame had informed me that not only would we be eating galettes, Monsieur would also teach me how to cook them. I had in fact already eaten store-bought galettes with Madame Julia and I thought they were out-of-this-world delicious!

“But wait until you’ve had Monsieur Voisin’s galettes”, she’d told me.  “No other galette will ever compare.”

The much-anticipated day arrived, and off we went next door.  After some nibbles and a glass of pastis (my very first – yum!), it was time to move into la cuisine.  While Madame sat at the kitchen table (this was not her first galette rodeo), Monsieur took the reins of his crêpière électrique and the show began.

The mixture was spread paper thin, and watching him quickly flip, butter and flip again without the whole thing falling apart – well, it was impressive.

Then it was my turn.  I managed to pull off a rather bedraggled version of what my instructor had cooked, but it still held together – mostly.  So, it was a triumphant “Yes!” from me and a polite smile from Monsieur.  That was until I dropped part of my mine onto the floor in my attempt to make the transfer from crêpière to plate, whilst videoing at the same time.  Not recommended!

I chose to have a traditional galette complète for my main course, which is made with a filling of cheese, ham and an egg.  In keeping with tradition, I also said yes to a bowl (yes, a bowl) of local cider.  It was all absolutely delicious!

But wait there’s more.   While Breton galettes are considered savoury, they also make a fabulous dessert.  Monsieur Voisin began cooking again and this time the galettes were filled with slices of apple that he’d precooked in a wee bit of butter.  Madame Julia had brought along her homemade salted caramel sauce, and the combination was incredible.  The tartness of the apple, the salty sweetness of the caramel and the buttery, crispy galette – oh my goodness me.

With very full tummies, and leftover galettes and apple slices in hand, we returned home. We certainly didn’t need any dinner that evening!

While I will never know Monsieur’s perfect recipe, Madame has promised to give me her version, which I’m sure will be the next best thing.  So, my beloveds, including the gluten-free among you, I shall practice up my galette-making skills during my last days here in Quimper and will then try them out on you all upon my eventual return.  And I haven’t even mentioned the chocolate soufflé or macaron lessons yet. 

See, this is why I will definitely need a staircase in my French house – to work off all the calories!  Oh la la la la.