Hello, how are you?
Today I share my domestic New Year resolutions – perhaps in 2025 the courtyard will stop looking like a builder’s yard? – along with the first market haul and a recipe for roasted Jerusalem artichokes
Yesterday, I was on my way to the Marine Bar to have a cup of coffee and sit with my notebook for a bit and as I walked along the Avenue de la Marine, a convoy of flatbed trucks rolled by. The haunted crèche chalets were loaded onto the back of them, making their sombre passage out of the village. Farewell, we hardly knew ye. Will they be back next year? I bumped into a friend in the market who asked, with a tremble of worry in his voice, “Do you think they’re bought or rented?” Only time and the Christmas decorations committee will tell.
I want to build raised planters and trellises so I can grow some fruit and vegetables. Sincerely yours, Laura Ingalls Wilder.
The village looks a little naked, without the chalets selling vin chaud, platters of oysters and plates of aligot, without the street decorations and painted candy canes. Séan spent a weekend taking down the acres of fairy lights from our balconies, trees and fences, and now only a second prize certificate for the best decorated house in the village propped up on the hall table to remind us of more glittering times. The ultimate prize is so close. Séan already has plans for next year’s efforts. Dare to dream, baby.
These are my seven domestic new year’s resolutions. I’d love to know yours.
Be more sparkling
I’m going to teach myself to renovate the various crystal chandeliers I’ve bought from brocantes, vide-greniers and off Facebook Marketplace in this past year. I’ve discovered the website of Falbala Luminaires, a lighting shop in Paris, and I now haunt their website like it’s my job – all your crystal drop, fake candle, lightbulb and lampshade kit needs on one site. I didn’t know I needed harlequin linen lamp cable but you know what, I do. I really do.
Putting down roots
I’m looking forward to working on my garden. I think I’ve got the shapes right now and I’m enjoying filling up the spaces with plants. In the autumn, I planted over 500 bulbs so I’m hoping for a colourful spring. The mimosa we planted two years ago has grown about two metres and is full of buds, just waiting to burst out into their baby chick fluff. I want to plant more roses, of course. I’ve tried a few places now, but nothing competes with David Austin for range and quality. Thank goodness they deliver to France.
Below stairs
In London, I had a big kitchen I built to my exact specifications. Here my kitchen is much smaller, cosier. I like it, which is just as well because it’s unextendible (it opens onto a small fist-floor terrace), but I would like a little more space. This year, I’m going to turn the small room off the kitchen into a proper butler’s pantry. I’ve got as far as buying a few pressed glass lampshades. Much to do.
Who knew clean cost so much?
I hope this year we can tackle one of the bathrooms. I started to make a mood board a few weeks ago. I found the perfect shower – a free-standing one from the British company, Drummonds. It was £38,000. I retreated from my mood board and have not been back since.
Potager princess
At the back of the house, we have a small courtyard which has served as our builder’s yard since we got here. It’s not the delightful retreat of dreams, but I have plans for it. Once we’ve moved out all the old building materials, I want to build raised planters and trellises so I can grow some fruit and vegetables. Sincerely yours, Laura Ingalls Wilder.
Use your Sharpie, damn it
Look, I know I’ve told you all to do this a thousand times but honestly, I’m saying it as much to myself as to you. Debora, I am on my knees, I’m begging you, label the things in the freezer. You will not remember. Signed, the woman who just defrosted leek and potato soup thinking it was apple sauce.
Hitting the books
This year, I want to learn more French history. A couple of weeks ago, I found Graham Robb’s book, The Discovery of France, in the free library box in the square in front of the house. I was quickly so obsessed with it, I made both my husband and my mother download it onto their Kindles so in those calm, quiet days between Christmas and New Year, we were all reading it at the same time, interrupting the silence every now and again to read out particularly fascinating sentences. Highly recommend. I am also very open to any other French history recommendations you might have – do pass them along if you have a moment.
So there are my top seven – do let me know yours in the comments. Maybe we cana keep each other accountable.
Roast Jerusalem artichokes with hazelnuts, parsley and lemon
I love this combination – nutty, toasted, salty, sharp and slightly sweet, all the good things. I make this recipe as soon as Jerusalem artichokes appear in the market. It makes a great side dish with a roast or grilled fish, or a good brunch served with fried eggs and bacon.
I know all the jokes about Jerusalem artichokes. They get a bad rap, mostly because for some they are challenging for the digestion. Roasting them helps to break down the inulin which can make them easier on the gut, and adding lots of parsley can help, too.
Serves 4 as a side, or 2 as a brunch with bacon and eggs
700g Jerusalem artichokes
Juice and zest of 1 unwaxed lemon
2 tbsp olive oil, plus a bit more if you want to fry the sage leaves to garnish
3-4 bay leaves
70g whole hazelnuts
1 handful of parsley, leaves and fine stems only, about 20g, roughly chopped
6 bay leaves, chopped, plus some more for finishing
2-4 fat garlic cloves, halved, any green germ removed, and minced
60g Emmental cheese, finely grated, plus a little more for finishing
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Put the Jerusalem artichokes into a bowl of just-warm water and let them soak for 10 minutes or so. Heat the oven to 200C/180C Fan/Gas 6.
Scrub the Jerusalem artichokes – there’s no need to peel them – and then cut them into largish chunks of about 2-3cm. You can leave some smaller ones whole if you want. In a roasting tin, toss the prepared artichokes with the lemon juice, olive oil and bay leaves. Season well with salt and pepper. Roast for 20 minutes then turn everything over and return to the oven for a further 15 minutes or so until the artichokes are tender when pierced with a small, sharp knife and turning golden on the outside (while the artichokes are roasting, prepare the rest of the ingredients).
While the artichokes are cooking, get on with the rest so it’s all ready to dress the artichokes as soon as they come out of the oven.
If the hazelnuts are still in their skins, scatter them in a separate roasting tin and put them in the hot oven for about 5-6 minutes until the skins are blackened. Put a timer on. It’s easy to forget they’re in there – check after 5 minutes and then every minute after that until they look done. Take them out, tip them into a clean tea towel and wrap them up gently for a few minutes to steam. Rub them vigorously in the tea towel to remove the blackened skins – don’t worry about getting every speck of black off. If your hazelnuts are already skinned, just roast them in the oven for 3-4 minutes until lightly toasted. Roughly chop the nuts, not too fine, you want some texture.
In a bowl, stir together the nuts, lemon zest, parsley, garlic and sage. When you take the artichokes out of the oven, toss them immediately with the hazelnut mixture and cheese. Taste and season with more salt and pepper if it needs it.
Finish the dish with a little more grated cheese over the top and a few whole sage leaves – you can fry them quickly and lightly in olive oil if you want to be fancy. Serve immediately.
Market haul, 14 January 2025
This week’s market haul comprises: parsley and coriander, spinach, half a dozen eggs, lemons, onions, olive oil, apples and pears, ham, Emmental, Cantal and Camembert cheeses, persimmons, brussels sprouts, ginger, Jerusalem artichokes.
Lovely piece! May I ask, are you still doing twice weekly newsletters or have you reduced them? I don't see any at all since mid December, and before then it seems to be just once a week or fewer. It's also possible I'm lost in the strange bureacratic layers of substack and missing something. I'm unlikely to unsubscribe because I love the posts we do get, but it seems they're a lot sparser than the paid subscription model states?
Great resolutions! Mine are:
1. Make Monday night book night and keep the TV off.
2. Wear something sparkly at least once a month
3. Keep fairy lights up all year
4. See 12 films at the cinema
5. Teach one of the cats a cool trick
I'm very tempted to add 'Book a December trip to Marseillan' because that Christmas village looked so much fun.