Give us this day our double bread
Today, I share my guilty bread secrets, some essential baguetiquette rules, and one of the best roast chicken recipes known to humankind.
I wrote recently about how one of our biggest challenges of moving to France was learning to hit the rhythm of the day, particularly when it came to buying a bread in time for lunch.
Candidly, getting the timing right wasn’t our only problem. When we first moved here, my husband Séan often bought that day’s bread in whatever was left of the morning. He would come back with not one, but two baguettes under his arm. He’s always been a generous sort, the king of largesse, but given a baguette remains fresh for about as long as it takes to get it home and butter it, this was excessive.
“Please stop with the double baguetting!” I pleaded. And then he confessed. As all of you who have tried to master French will attest, one of the biggest challenges is remembering the gender of nouns*. Séan would get to the front of the queue in the tiny boulangerie and then, in a moment of panic in front of the locals, would forget whether baguette was masculine (un baguette) or feminine (une baguette) and, in a moment of face-saving pragmatism, request “deux baguettes”.
We had a tiny freezer, just a small compartment at the bottom of the fridge. In those first weeks, we wasted a lot of bread, and I am too northern for that. I devised recipes to use it up, like the roast chicken recipe I am sharing with you today. Here are some other favourites.
*To save you from baguette-based embarrassment, it’s helpful to know that nouns ending in -ette are always feminine.
The remains of the day
Bread is one of France’s most consumed products, and also one of the most wasted, with each person wasting about 4.5kg per year – that’s about 18 average-sized baguettes. The anti-gaspi (anti-gaspillage, anti-waste) movement is gaining strength here – our market often has boxes of anti-gaspi produce, ingredients past their first flush of youth, for sale very cheaply, or even free. In the interests of not wasting that second baguette, here are some of the things I did with it.
Pain perdu, or French toast
Croûtons, to perk up salads and soups, either plain or seasoned with herbs, garlic, and/or cheese.
Breadcumbs for scattering on gratins (give me crunch), making croquettes (also another delicious resting place for leftovers), and coating fish or meat.
Making crostini – just slice the baguette about 1cm thick, brush with olive oil, season with salt and pepper and bake for 10 minutes or so at 180C/160C Fan/Gas 4 until golden. The little toasts keep very well in an airtight container for a couple of weeks, for all your canapé needs.
I found this recipe for using leftover bread to make galettes/pancake batter on a French recipe Facebook group I belong to. Put about 100g stale baguette, torn into pieces, into a bowl with 400ml whole milk and leave to stand for 10 minutes or so. Mix in 2 eggs, about 20g melted butter and a pinch of salt – add 1 tbsp caster sugar if you want to make sweet ones. Using either a stick blender or a blender, whizz it until it makes a smooth batter, then fry as normal.
French baguetiquette
In France, unless you’re eating somewhere very fancy, you won’t be offered a bread plate. Just place the bread on the table or tablecloth to the top left of your dinner plate above the forks, never on the plate itself.
Bread is an accompaniment to the meal, not something to snack on while you wait – you don’t want to ruin your appetite for the main event – so don’t be surprised if your bread basket doesn’t appear before your food.
Butter isn’t served with bread, except with certain foods, such as oysters, though often in restaurants they are happy to bring you butter if you ask politely.
If you’re serving the bread, tear or slice it into pieces and put it in a bread basket. Never put a whole baguette on the table top-side down, as it’s considered very bad luck. Historically, when a boulanger put a loaf aside for the executioner, he placed it upside down to mark it out from the others so it became associated with death and misfortune. If you do accidentally place it upside down, it’s traditional to draw a cross on the flat side of the bread with your knife before slicing it to banish any bad luck.
When eating bread, don’t slice it. Tear it into small pieces, just large enough to eat in one bite. The same goes for eating pâté and cheese – small, one-bite pieces, you’re not making a sandwich.
One of the most joyous things you can do at the table is to take a piece of baguette to mop up the sauce or vinaigrette, but be aware this is not considered comme il faut in polite company – keep your peasant manners for home, good friends and informal restaurants.
Debora writes…
As you may have noticed, we took an unplanned break after our Portugal trip, but I have extended everyone’s subs for a further week, in lieu.
Garlic and lemon chicken with yesterday’s bread
This is one of the best uses of leftover baguette I know – they become crisp, garlicky, lemony croutons flavoured with the juices from the roast chicken. They’re so good, I would (almost) make this whole dish for the croutons alone and feed the chicken to the dogs.
Take the chicken out of the fridge 40 minutes before you roast it. You can prepare everything in the tin a few hours ahead if it’s more convenient, in fact it’s even better that way as it allows the garlic lemon butter beneath the skin to infuse the bird with flavour.
Serves 4-6
1 chicken, about 1.8kg
100g softened butter
20g parsley, leaves and fine stems only
4 cloves garlic, halved, any green germ removed
Finely grated zest of an unwaxed lemon (you will use the juice to dress the bread and potatoes)
1 tsp salt
1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1 unwaxed lemon, quartered lengthways
4 fresh thyme sprigs
600g small potatoes, halved
2 red onions, about 180g each, quartered
1 baguette, about 250g, torn into large chunks
80ml olive oil
Juice of 1 lemon (see above) plus another unwaxed lemon cut into 6 wedges
A few tablespoons of olive oil
Flaky sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1. Prepare the chicken by first preparing the seasoned butter. I make this by whizzing the butter, parsley, garlic, lemon zest, salt and pepper in my mini chopper until it is very smooth. You can also do this by finely chopping the parsley and garlic then mixing it together with the rest of the ingredients. Place a nugget of the seasoned butter inside the bird’s cavity and season it with salt and pepper, before putting the lemon wedges and thyme inside too.
2. Divide the remaining butter into two. Gently loosen the skin of the chicken from the breast meat on each side and push each half of the butter under the skin, gently massaging it in so it covers as much of the breast meat as possible. Let the chicken sit for 40 minutes while you prepare the rest.
3. Heat the oven to 200C/180C Fan/Gas 6.
4. Scatter the potatoes, onions, and baguette in the bottom of a roasting tin,
5. Whisk together the lemon juice and olive oil, pour into the tin and stir until everything is well combined.
6. Place the lemon wedges in the middle of the tin and put the chicken on top.
7. Trickle some olive oil over the chicken and rub it into the skin then season well with salt and pepper.
8. Roast for 30 minutes then turn down to 150C/130C Fan/Gas 3 for a further 30 minutes, or until the juices run clear when you pierce the flesh with a small, sharp knife. Remove the chicken from the tin carefully and place it on a warmed serving plate, lightly covered with foil.
9. Give the potatoes, onions and bread a good stir, whack up the oven temperature a bit and return the roasting tin to the oven while the chicken rests so they can crisp up a bit. When they’re golden, spoon them onto the plate around the chicken and serve immediately.
A LITTLE HOUSEKEEPING
If you’re new here (welcome, and thank you), let me explain this feature. Each week, I pull together a simple menu based around a central recipe. I noticed many of my French friends entertain without losing their minds because a lot of meals are assemblies, where good shopping is just as important as good cooking.
A typical meal might begin with some olives and charcuterie, bought pâté or a little tomato salad and definitely here, on the banks of the Étang de Thau, a platter of oysters. For the main course there might be a roast chicken or whole fish, a casserole, something substantial accompanied by simple boiled potatoes or rice, and a vegetable or two (never crowd the plate with too many competing flavours). There’s almost always a green salad and cheese, and sometimes a pudding which is invariably bought from the local patisserie rather than being home made.
Each week, I share with you a single recipe around which you can build a simple three course meal. The idea is it will allow you to spend time with your family and guests, not languish like Cinderella in the kitchen. I also give you a work plan and advice on how to get ahead. I really, really want you to enjoy yourself, always.
WEEKEND ROAST CHICKEN MENU (or anytime, frankly)
Radis beurre
Radishes with softened butter and flaky salt
Garlic and lemon chicken with yesterday’s bread
Green salad with a mustardy vinaigrette
More baguette, fresh this time, and you’re allowed to use it to mop up the vinaigrette
A bought fruit tart
PLAN OF ACTION
You can prepare the roast chicken itself up to a day before – stuffing the cavity, pressing the seasoned butter under the skin, rubbing with olive oil and seasoning – just cover and refrigerate until 40 minutes to an hour before you put it in the oven. Putting fridge-cold meat into the oven means that you need to cook it for longer and there is more chance it will dry out.
You can prepare the vegetables and bread to go under the chicken an hour or two before you want to put the bird in the oven.
A couple of hours before you want to eat the chicken, put it in the oven.
Wash the lettuce and dry it well. You can do this a few hours ahead. Just store it in the fridge in a Ziplock-type bag with a sheet of kitchen paper until you’re ready to serve the salad.
Make the vinaigrette.
Wash the radishes well and dry them. Make sure the butter is soft enough to dip the radishes into. You can beat the butter with a couple of chopped anchovies until very smooth if you like, too.
Set the table. Chill white wine and open red wine to come to breathe. Make sure there is water for the table too.
Just before serving, assemble the radishes placing a few on each plate with a small pot or spoonful of the butter and a little mound of flaky salt to dip them in.
Put the tart on a plate and cover until ready to serve.
Place the bread in a basket (see above). Cover with a clean napkin.
Pour a little of the vinaigrette into the bottom of a salad bowl and heap the salad leaves on top. Toss everything together the minute before you want to serve it.
Warm the plates for the chicken.
Thank you so much for clearing up the un/une confusion of baguettes - it’s been stressing me out for ages and now I can remember your helpful memory hook of all French words ending in —ette as belonging to the feminine group. Merci!
I do think French bread has changed in the past 40 (gulp!) years. When I lived in France for a year during my degree the baguettes were golden and crisp, with a crust that cracked into hard flakes. Now they seem duller and more like sourdough. Probably more artisanale, but even the supermarket plastic wrapped ones are like sourdough. I preferred the older version!