There's a wonderfully evocative description of a traiteur's shop in Provence in the writing of the late Keith Floyd. In winter, he saw that it was filled with game and its shelves were stacked with trufflles and pates, with signs in the window offering food to take away. Cooked on the premises were jugged hare, a venison stew and crayfish armoricaine (the name coming --probably-- from the old name for Brittany, not America. Probably.)
So, in France, the traiteur's shop is where you would get --amongst other things-- a selection of foods to enjoy for your lunch or dinner. These would include something substantial so, for example, you might have a wonderful portion of cassoulet to have when friends come round.. In Ale and Porter, you do the same. As I write, you could be eating a beef daube -- a long simmered beed stew, or a kind of risotto made with pearl barley. Very good for you, you know. While Sebastien is French by birth, the food from this particular traiteur will be more roundly European -- just to give you a taste of more than one country. Not that France isn't a place of genius, you understand. Speaking of which, here is a recipe. It's just a daube, a la moi, but mostly Provencal in nature, I would think. It exploits the French genius for long and patient simmering. Sort of alchemy, then. You could do it two stages, thusly.
Daube. A beef stew (daubes are not only beef!)
Put this meat into a marinade overnight. I'd use 2kg of stewing beef. Decent quality.
The marinade might be:
About 2 glasses of decent red wine
1 medium (say, thumb length?) piece of rosemary on the stem
1 sprig of thyme --maybe even lemon thyme?
1 bayleaf
five cloves of finely chopped garlic
A fat pinch of Maldon sea salt and some freshly ground black pepper
You could add a chopped onion too, because, later it will add aromatic base notes. And I LOVE onions
Take 2kg stewing beef. Decent quality. Cut it into pieces.
Right, the following day, do this.
Get About 250g streaky bacon, cut into little dice. Smoked, ideally. Fry it off gently with a little olive oil. Then drain the meat, putting the marinade to one side. Brown it gently in the pan with the bacon. Oh -- you need a large pan, because you want to brown and seal the meat, not steam it! Take a couple of heaped tablespoons of flour and sprinkle these on, keeping a watchful eye on the heat so that the flour dosen't catch. You do want, though, to cook it out properly. Just a minute or so will do. Stir carefully and then pour in the marinade and 4 glasses of red wine.All you do then is bring to a high heat and simmer for around three hours or you could, at this point, decant it to a moderate oven and let it bubble away. You could also add a couple of pieces of (scrubbed) orange peel. You may find you need to add a little water, but a daube should be thick -- so have confidence. remember to check and correct the seasoning.
When all is done, the meat will be exceptionally tender. Elizabeth David once had tears in her eyes when presented, weary and long travelled, with a daube -- seeing the little branches of thyme and smelling the rich and homely scent as the lid of the daubiere was lifted. I know what she meant.
I would enjoy serving this with plain boiled potatoes and -- because I will never be French and will always inhabit a place sometimes in England and sometimes in Wales-- with a big heap of boiled and roughly chopped cabbage. It might be the done thing, down South, to serve with noodles and a little cheese,
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