Hearty, yes, but also delicate in texture with sweet beanness and bursting with small morsels of savory salty and cured meats.
The resulting flavors were all I had hoped for- creamy, deep, crusty and soul satisfying. As Kitchen Captain, I poo-poo-ed the holy trinity competition of city driven cassoulet (Castelnaudary, Toulouse and Carcassonne) in favor of a beginning place to understand that cassoulet is really… about the bean. With a little encouragement from afar and a handful of French regional cookbooks, I set the standard under some protest from a few more vocal members of the gathering: no tomato, no breadcrumbs and no lamb (there’s nary a sheep in sight in this particular part of France.). 5 Americans, 3 British, 7 French, a pretty balanced group of cooks and not, convened over the Toussaint Nov 1 st holiday here in Southwest France to put pay to all those Cassoulet making myths and most importantly, produce a serviceable boot-camp version of a ‘French Basix’ Cassoulet.
But I’ve lived in a pup tent, can easily start a fire and make a mean s’more- (cultural translation here ) Or cassoulet.įor years, I have been referring to My Camont as Camp France, a sort of license to have fun in a somewhat unrealistic setting (silly big barge, small rowboat, princess tower house, big kitchen… in France.) As the cooking classes and gastronomic tours became the ‘day job’, Camp France needed to get a breath of fresh November air and breathe it did indeed this weekend!Ĭamp Cassoulet.
My ideas of it are all screwed up with Disney movies and girl scout meetings. So now and again that childhood desire arises and I create the ephemeral camp of my dreams.
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