Poets, painters and puddings. These three things make the world as it ought to be.

continued

 
Ship yards, on the hard, port starboard, this knot and that knot, none of which I could ever tie or ever throw. So here we were in St Tropez in the ship yard on the hard, with a crew bereft of their ship staying in a B and B, luckily for me I still had my room at John and Annie Odell's house in Gassin and I still had my bike there, so I visited the crew daily and helped with the french and translated quite a bit for the Captain.

It was a late September to remember, suddenly here were hundreds of handsome sailors a few women and a lot of fun in the bars and in the night clubs, it seemed to me anything went, we even went dancing in wellies the weather was so bad. I loved this whole new world of bonhommie, everyone seemed to know each other, every one seemd to be friends and the atmosphere full of fun and competition. The week that the boat was in the ship yard was a great week for me, I had the best of both worlds, a home to go to a whole new bunch of friends and a bike to ride away from it all on when it got too much.

The fun time came to an end, the boat was patched with fibre glass and ready to go, the racing had come to an end, St Tropez emptied of boats as most of them would be going to Palma to prepare for the crossing. Soon was to be my first voyage on the boat with the crew. The rugs came up the cushions were stowed anything that was nice or breakable was put away, the portholes and the hatches tightly shut, we were getting ready for bad weather.

I can remember this trip as being very unpleasant, spending a lot of time in wet weather gear, rain pouring down my back and into my wellies, standing at the helm with a lot of wind, rain and generally nasty weather, too nasty for the sails to be out, only a bit of storm sail to steady the boat a bit.

My worsts nightmare happened in the Straits of Gibralter, my watch was 8-12 midnight with the captain. I was on the helm and Arther was inside at the cart table , the rest of the crew were happily dozing in the crews mess. It was a dark dark night and lights were everywere, I was not yet used the port and starboard lights on the passing ships. quite frankly I didn't know which was which especially when it was coming towards me, and I couldn't work out which side of a boat I was meant to pass on port to port or otherwise. I also couldn't work out the differance between a huge tanker on a collision course with us and possible house on land.

What happened.....

We Went

 
I know that I have put this picture on before but I love it and at the moment I cannot face sorting through the pile of boat pictures that I have in a dark chest that I cannot face opening. I left you on my last page in a beautiful garden in Cap Ferrat all sounding so iddylic and now I am taking you back to the boat.

I don't really feel like dwelling on the journey too much not for now anyway. It was my first voyage on a boat. We were going from Menton to Palma, quite exciting really, stopping in Monaco, ville franche and Cannes and then St Tropez. My favourite Market is in Cannes it is a covered market, not a beautiful building like Menton, practical but the market is fabulous if you go there it is called Marche Fourville, it is a short walk from the old port where we used to berth. I loved that first thing in the morning feeling in Cannes as much as anywhere, the roads newly washed the flowers watered the smell of the night before dampened into the day ahead soon to be burnt off by the sun.

Being with a bunch of boys meant that the girls who were in the minority generally ended up doing what the boys wanted, which usually involved a trip to a strip club on our night off. For me it was not a pleasant experience and thought the whole thing to be quite dull, so we would go to a pub, go to a restaurant, go to a night club to dance and then end up in some sleazy strip club at four in the morning, I would as often as not walk back to the boat on my own.

Pulling me out of the memory of dirty pavements and dark alley ways was always the fresh morning, which is probably why I liked the smell of the newly washed pavements and roads.

Cannes is where I go to buy my fish for the Bouillabaise I make, the market still has fish stands where the local fishermen sell their catch which is a rare thing nowadays. so you can buy the small rock fish necessary for making the bouillabase.

Anyway we went from Cannes to St Tropez and we joined the sail boat racing in the annual races there at the end of  September. The weather was cooler and the racing serious, we were joined by a lot of other sailors and I was the chief sandwich maker. Although I stayed working on the boat for so many years I never really become a sailor I found it all too scary, expecially when there was a lot of wind and the sails filled to capacity and we were ploughing ahead at 12 knots and sometimes faster, then in a race you have to manouvre the boat and the sails and not smach into another boat, which is what we did in St Tropez, it was an accident, both boats were too close, but we got hole in our hull and sea water started gushing in.

All the boys rushed into action to rig up a makeshift plank that would block the water from coming in. We limped slowely into the ship yard, where the boat had to come out of the water on the hard to be fixed.

Our next journey was to Palma, rough seas all the way, grey rainy days and plenty of seasickness. Smashing into the waves and having the sea swooshing over the top of the boat was a frightening experience for a new sailor. I preferred to stay inside in the dry. But becoming part of the crew on this ship also meant that I had to learn to sail and to navigate, and be part of the whole.

 

Cap Ferrat a summers Evening

 
...........shall we have some white and green , fresh cod and home made pesto, and what about dessert the peaches are luscious at the moment. What could be more perfect than peach and almond tart with a spoonfull of creme fraiche.

So imagine guests coming for a summery evenings dinner, a beautiful house on Cap Ferrat, over looking the bay of Villefranche, palm trees, bourgainvillia, the lavender and roses, cactus a whole cacophony of plants. Crickets strumming in the back ground bees buzzing, butterflies landing on the lavender.

It is the epitome of a provencale evening. So perhaps a local wine from the Var will go well, A Chateau Rosseline, a rose to start with the tapenades and the pissaladiere.

We will eat roasted peppers and capers to start and wipe our plates clean with homemade walnut bread of olive faccachia, maybe both would be nice.

We will then be presented with our feast, a tomato sauce made with saffron and garlic and a touch of chili. Seared Aubergine and freshly steamed cod resting on the red suace, drizzled with pesto and longning to be eaten. Well then let's eat!

A pause now before the cheese course, a walk through the garden a hint of sea breeze brushing the rose petals and pausing at the lavender. the sun is going down the skiy is filled magenta and peach, leading our thoughts to our dessert and so I will leave you there in the summer evening with your thoughts and your wine and we will move back to the story and back to the boat next time.

Nice

 
Now I am going to dance about a bit with the book, I will get back to the boat later, it is just that Nice was never a port of call for us. The old port of Nice is so pretty with its deep red Italianesque buildings all around it and well worth the visist if you are ever in the area, as is the market and the famous Nice flower market, I shall give myself a moment one of these days to go and take photo's of it for the blog. After I had left the boat I worked every summer for some fabulous clients that have since become great friends in a rented villa in Cap Ferrat. I was living in Vence at this time and would drive the long and winding drive down to work, often stopping at the Market in old Nice to do my shopping.

Nice, nicoise, nicoise olives, tapenade made with green olives, made with black olives, made with anchoivies made without,made with olive oil, spread thickly on freshly baked french baguette with a spoonful of fresh chevre ( goats cheese) made the same morning from the goats grazing on the grass on the mountains above me.

Olive oil from Mougins or Opiio. How about a pissaladiere, so french so southern so easy to make, and oh oh what about roasted red pepper and huge juicy capers and a touch of white balsamic, did I hear someone mention aubergine, cooked just like a steak, seared in a hot pan with the best quality olive oil, and served with a sprinkle of cumin a touch of tamari and fresh corriander. We could dance around the tomatoes and pick the juiciest fattest ones you have ever seen and put them in our provencale basket, We could make the finest plump tomatoe suace you have ever tasted. How are we going to put it all together what are we going to di, what other ingredients should I buy to go with this red and black feast. Well I shall let you know tomorrow.

A party over

 
 
Photo taken by Kate

For my own happiness I have decided that the trip I write about now is a trip of calm waters to avoid a delayed feeling of sea sickness, I just  happen to get very sea sick, goodness knows how I managed all those years at sea.

So this is a pleasant trip just enough wind to go sailing without the motor, steady enough to keep us slicing through the water, like a knife through butter. No heaving up and down or rolling from side to side, I don't know which of htose is worse. Just nice enough that we can have the fore hatch open and a breeze comes through the galley to soothe my feavoured brow. On a beautiful day sailing along the south coast of France, with the Alpes Maritimes as the back drop, I feel blessed with my lot. We stop for the guests to swim, the stewardesses lay the table and prepare drinks> I am happy with my buffet, all I have to do now is garnish the dishes, and the garnish is usually gone with the wind! Clean up the galley and serve the hungry crew.

My sailing days are a long time ago, but are vivid in my mind as an extraordinary experience for a London based chef and caterere. Grey streets and rainy days, dark restaurant kitchens with florescent lights, what a change then for this, azure blue seas and skies, mountains rising out of hte coast line, palm trees and white houses with purple, orange and pink bourganvillia stretching itself over them with such pleasure and happiness. Pretty beaches and near naked people, grand buildings exuding wealth and a certain contentment. whilst the guests ate their lunch I would sit on the bow of the boat and gaze at my surroundings literally pinching myself to see if it were true. Time now to sail back to port, say goodbye to the guests, clear up wash down the boat and get ready to go dancing. I am far too old to do it now nor would I want to , at least not all night as I used to in those days, dawn was often up to greet us as we made our way back to the boat.

I did not know then that I would settle and live in the South of France and it would become my home and my place of work.

Monaco, Cap D'Ail, Beausoleil, Villefranch, Nice.

Nice, ................a demain

And a bit more

 

Everything is looking so lovely and I am cooking for sixteen, so I am cooking a buffet, it is now 7.30 am and I am in a rush. I need to buy everything and get back to the boat, prepare it all and put it all away ready for later before we pull up the anchor at 11 am. I mustn't forget to make lunch for the crew who are always hungry.

The parsley and corriander look so good, I shall make a taboule, the tuna looks so fresh and bouncy I shall make seared tuna steak with lightly curried sauce seafood platter, salade caprese, fillet of beef with crisped aubergine slices and roasted red peppers, a cheese platter with assorted goats cheese, local only, followed by raspberry tart and homemade vanilla ice cream.

Everyone is in a hurry to make the boat look as perfect as possible, I rush to cook the buffet all at once in a very small and awkward space. The cooker is in a passage way and the crew blast through at a great pace whilst I sautee calamari and steam langoustine, chop sundried tomatoes and marinate tuna fillets. A handfull of herbs go flying as another deckhand knocks into me as he hurries to the aft of the boat to check on stowage of the anchor chain. Mr Blake has arrived with his guests, all stations go, I am not ready, things get thrown into the sink, wet tea towels and rubber matting are need to hold down dishes. Quivering langoutstine and lively lobster are ready for the pot, oh heavens what a momentary mess. We are off, hatches down, sails up, two hours to our destination, as long as it isn't rough I have time to sort and clear. To make suaces and to sweep up herbs. We usually fo to Villefrance for a day sail. It can be a foul or pleasant experience according to weather conditions........

Tomorrow

 

A rather complicated dish

So I won't tell you how to make it. How is that for a recipe book! It is busy busy busy here, I am getting ready for my summer cooking job and busy making menues, jams jellies and spicy rataouille, gaucomole and other such tasties.

Recipes will be coming your way, I thought and thought and thought and thought how terribly boring it would be for you to tell you the entire story of my life on the boat from one market to the other, it is far too ordered and disciplined for the way my mind works so I shall just tell you the fun bits and the frightening bits and the love sick bits, and dinner parties that I have cooked since, and how I came to live here and stay here and cook here. Afterall the boat was a very long time ago 19 years have passed, I have moved house four times, I have got married and live has changed so much.

So I got the job on the boat, the very first thing that Arthur asked me to do the next day was to take the helm as we sailed from Menton to Monaco, in those days a 28 meter boat was quite big, to me it was gigantic. Just like driving a massive car. OH Yea.

I'll take you back to Menton later on for now we are on our way to Monaco. Monaco was a fun time on the boat, we usually went for day sails to Villefranche with a lot of guests on board, sometimes one or two, but I like those days.

I liked to get off the boat before anyone was up, that used to pose a problem ( this is where I decide to use the present tense) The gank plank is up high the morning is misty and damp, the sun hasn't quite shown his face, there is a silent reg glow to the east, there are no hand rails and I cannot find the controls I slip and lose my balance, somtimes I fall into the stinky port and clamber up the grimy port wall hoping some sailor might wake up and take pity on me, or I wait tille one of my crew is up to let me back on the boat. Not a great passtime I can assure you. I usually manage ungainfully to wobble of the boat and as I walk down the dock I turn to sea the sun now rising, knowing in an hour how hot it will be and how blue and clear the sky will become. 

By the time I am at the market the sun is up, and I am ready for coffee before I start my rounds.  I like to look at each and every stall and create a menu in my mind with what I can see and what looks the best. It might be the rascasse fillets or it might be the Dorade Royale, gleaming on the ice. Because it is so sunny and warm I think I will make a seafood salad, steam some langoustine on lemon grass and ginger, stir fry some giant prawns and calamarie, stir them warm and pink into mesclum, toss in some porcini mushrooms, sprinkle on some truffle oil and a squeeze of lime juice why not?  Followed by a delicate lemon and lime mousee with a sechuan peppercorn tuile and raspberry coulis.. Serve it with a chilled Gavi bought in Italy on one of our last trips there.

Tomorrow I am cooking for sixteen

Tomorrow

 

A little sauce

 
I am not sure about this book and how to develop it, how many stories to write or to leave the stories to the bearest minimum and put loads of menues in. Still I guess it is ok to try it out in an amateur way on my friends and relations.

We had  our friend Janet over for dinner last night and I picked some artichokes bursting with delight and a desire to be eaten. I also have a great herb garden, so I picked, marjoram, origano, savoury, rosemary and some basil, which I chopped very finely and added to my sauce. So the sauce goes like this.

One handful of finely chopped fresh herbs, one clove of spring garlic, mushed up in the pestle and mortar, with a teaspoon of grain mustard, a teaspoon of dijon mustard and good spalsh of raspberry pulp vinegar stir well with a fork, make into into a thick mayonaisse consitancly by adding olive oil slowely to it until the taste is just right. A touch of Himalayen Rock Salt and some ground corriander and pink peppercorns are the perfect finish.

To cook your artichokes, fill a big pan with water, onions, garlic, herbs, a spalsh of balsamic, some salt and pepper and bring the water to the boil, add your artichokes, they are cooked when the leaves pull out easily. Set aside and allow to cool. Then one by one pull out the leaves, dunk them in the sauce and suck the artichoke meat out of the fleshy end. Finally cut away the inedible part and you are left with the juicy heart. Sprinkle on a little truffle oil, add your dressing and eat it up, or serve it on toast.

So me thinks tomorrow I shall give you a fancy recipe for artichokes and scallops.

Bon appetit

 

Artichokes and Some such

 

Artichokes Flowering from my garden.

Well what did I do, it's hard to remember so many years ago, it is hard enough to remember yesterday. I am just at the right age for forgetting, I hope that the memory gets better before it gets worse, or is it down hill from here?

I was bemused, I was expecting the crew to be sociable, I had never been on a boat before, well I had been on a ferry across the English channel when I was 17 years old, but walking up a gang plank on a boat that was swaying with nothing to hold on to was a little unerving and just added to the twitch I was in.

The Captain welcomed me on board, the crew was all squeeky clean, hair gell and after shave, getting ready to meet their girls. The captains girl was on board and was very nice to me, she helped me calm my nerves a bit, showed me my cabin for the week then they all dissapeared into the night leaving me to become aquainted with the boat. I felt LOST.

I made up some menues drank a beer and went to bed. I should have realized what sort of man Arthur was, when he completely re arranged my menues and told me what to cook the next day. Veal chops with white wine and grape sauce I did not like the idea of it at all, but did as I was told, I wanted the job. Boats, escapism, leaving all the worries behind. Leaving the mess in England my heart and my finances seemed a great idea.

I was up early the sea lapping at the hull of the boat woke me, I greated the salty morning mist and waited for the party goers to get up. Arther bleary eyed took me to the market, enthusiastic about every thing he saw. Menton is a beautiful cream coloured market with turquise gargoyles and a red tiled roof, Italianesque.

this is where I get stuck I need to take a photographs so that I can show you how pretty it is. I love this market, Arther and I bought a house together later on in the book of course, and when I was at home alone, I used to walk down the mountain see the mountain goats, the wild garlic, thyme wlak across town and go to the market, smell the cacophony of fresh fruits, dried hams, fish, fresh baked bread. I used to find a seat in the cafe nearby, have a croissant and orange juice and coffee and soak in the atmosphere. A habit I aquired and thoroughly enjoyed just about everywhere we went with the boat. The Caribean was differant, it was usually a coffee and spicy pasty.

I have digressed, something I am prone to do. I walked back to the boat with Arthur that morning, and all I had to do was concentrate on cooking the owner of boat his evening meal with his guests. The anticipation was almost unbearable. I was told at the end of the evening that Mr Mauran would like to employ me,

 

 

Boat, loves and other lives

 

Me on the Boat

So I cleaned and cooked in villas and worked for some very nice people, I brought a rcing bike and cycled everywhere and decided I would like to live in the area, so I got myself a racing bike and looked for a permanent position, I searched the ads in the Var Matin and found a job as a chef in a beach restaurant, Antinea Plage at Port Grimaud. All started out well, quite gently there were only a few customers and very few staff, the mistral blew but no one minded too much. From kind beginings all hell let loose, 20 - 200 customers from one day to the next, the waiters miraculously multiplied and the other member of the kitchen staff, my second chef and washer upper dissapeared not to return. I was left alone in a blizzard to sand, the mistral blew and I certainly minded. Gambas Flambee served with sand, gritty washing up, irate waiters, impatient customers, late delivaries, the whole concoction boiled, bubbled and burst. I could take no more, after a month with no day off and no let up, I gave up, they needed three men to take my place and that is what they got!

I was very glad to be out of there, I had time to be dispondant for about an hour. The very same evening I left the beach job, there was a phone call from an agency asking me if I could go to an interview the next morning in St Tropez for a permanant position as Chef/Housekeeper on a two masted schooner. Sailing Yacht 'Mystere of England' was to become my home for the next five years.

I met the Captain and the First Mate in the Bar Tabac, we all got on well, I was cautioned by the Captain that as well as working hard I would have to play hard, I wasn't too  sure what playing hard meant, but I was soon to find out.

I was asked to do a weeks try out on the boat to see if the owner liked both me and my cooking, as I was now jobless I jumped at the opportunity. The next week I tooke the ferry from St Tropez to St Maxime then the train from St Maxime changing at Cannes to Menton old port where the boat was berthed. I recomend the train journey, it is a feast for the eyes along this beautiful coast, mountains and azure sea, palm trees and promise of pleasure time.

By the time I got to Menton I was very nervous and shaking, clammey hands and what if's. By the time I got off the train and was walking down towards the port dusk was settling in to give way to night and I arrived just in time to find the crew all going out and leaving me alone on the boat to unpack and prepare for the next day. Bemused this is what I did.