Cheese Journey’s though Our Back Yard that is Europe…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Yes, yet another cheesy post, taken from my archive photos as I take you on a virtual tour of one of The Netherlands best Specialist Cheese Shops: Ed Boele’s in the Fahrenheitstraat in The Hague.

We’ve been looking at the Dutch cheeses on offer, and the Bleu’s from around Europe, but there are so many more to explore in the world of European Cheese. Of course, no shop could even start to hope to stock them all, there are literally tens of thousands of European cheeses, so Ed does the next best thing: he goes looking for the best of the best.

Ed Boele makes regular trips around Europe, sampling cheeses and bringing back some of the more exquisite examples to share with his customers.

Not for nothing does he have Best Foreign Cheese Selection Awards to his name. One of the best things about both him and his shop is that not only are the contents divine but that he and his staff take the time to know all there is to know about everything they sell.

The awards they have earned over the years are based not only on a visiting  senior industry specialist jury but also by multiple random visits by mystery shopper specialists so the staff  have a good incentive to keep their knowledge up to date.

There are the artisan “Producteurs de fromages de chèvre” from the around the area of the Pyrenées, some are mild goat cheeses, other have a real kick to them.

Made in the mountains of north east France,  Munster or Munster Géromé, are the two names for one cheese.  Monks here started making it  in the 17th Century as a way of preserving the milk and to help feed the local people.

Milk comes from cows that graze the Vosgesmountains and is made into cheese by local farmers but bought to the  natural cellars at Rochesson in the Upper Vosges to mature. In the cellars it is washed and rubbed for two to four weeks during which time the rind turns a soft orange colour and the cheese becomes soft and creamy.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

The cheese is still made the same way today and the recipe has little changed over the centuries. Ed Boele’s stocks “Munster Ermitage” , an award winning cheese from a company that’s been going strong now for  some 70 years.

Trappe Échourgnac is a pasteurized cow’s milk cheese produced by nuns at the “Abbaye Notre-Dame de Bonne Espérance” (Abbey of Our Lady of Good Hope) in the Dordogne area of France.

The Abbey was formerly called “Abbaye d’Echourgnac” and was inhabited by monks who made cheese here, but in 1910 when war broke out the monks left the abbey. Cistercian nuns came to the Abbey, bought with them the new name and picked up the cheese-making production where the monks had left off.

The original cheese production started in 1868, when some monks from the Abbey of ‘Port du Salut en Mayenne’ came to Échourgnac and bought with them the recipe for Port Salut cheese.

Over time the recipe was amended for local taste and has always been popular but in 1999 the nuns decided that it would also be a good idea to combine two local specialities: their cheese and a local walnut liquor, and so they did, with very successful results.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

The freshly made cheese is washed in the walnut liquor during it’s two month ripening time in the Abbey’s cellars, and this in turn produces a soft, smooth, creamy mellow cheese that has a wonderful walnut after-taste.

(I like this cheese a LOT).

From Cressier near Morat in the mountains of Switzerland comes Mont Vully cheese, it’s a “different” sort of cheese made in an area that’s the heart of Emmental style cheese country, so is not of the same style at all.

This semi-hard Mont Vully cheese quickly caught the attention of cheese connoisseurs when it won a gold medal at the Käsiade in Tirol in 1998.

Adding the Swiss Cheese Champion Award for the Mont Vully Bio at the Swiss Cheese Championships in 2006 means that Mont Vully is clearly going from strength to strength.

“Le Moulis Vache ” cheese comes from the  Department of Ariège  nestled next to Andorra in the Pyrenées and is pale, semi-soft mild-but-tasty tasting cheese with a flavour all it’s own.

It’s charactorised by it’s distinctive small holes (I always think it looks like bread!) and is matured from between 10 and 12 months, an excellent addition to any cheeseboard!

“Sbronzo Caciocavallo di Bufala”‘ is the strange looking cheese in the temperature controlled cabinet…  it’s a cheese from Eboli, Italy, that’s  made from unpasteurised water-buffalo milk  and then aged slowly at precise temperatures.

As is usual with hand made cheeses, the wheels are hand turned daily but this one differs from other cheeses because it’s  also “dressed” with aromatic herbs, olive oil or vinegar or in the case of this one, grapes.

Because the  10 month ripening process for this cheese needs to happen under exact temperatures,  it’s one of the few cheeses in the shop to require a temperature controlled environment but apparently  the end result will be a crusty looking, sweet aromatic  cheese and I have no doubt that if the rest of Ed’s stock is anything to go by, that it will taste rather good too.

Of course these are not the only non-Dutch cheeses in the shop, these are just a small sample of what’s on offer to show you the benefits of having a shop that’s dedicated solely to something as delectable as cheese and a staff who know their stuff. Like any society, The Netherlands has things that annoy you and things you adore. In the case of the traditional Dutch cheese shop, I  think it’s an idea par excellence…  after all there’s sure to be something in here to suit everyone’s taste, so what’s not to love?

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Crossing Borders and the Belgium “situation”…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

We’ve been staying at the Novotel in Lens, northern France.

The stairs were too much of a hassle to attempt twice on crutches so Himself bought up a breakfast tray for me in the room and took the kids downstairs afterwards so that they could get hot chocolate, yogurt and croissants.

We packed up after breakfast and once in the van it was a relatively short distance to the Belgium border.

Land border crossing points fascinate me, New Zealand of course only sports it’s natural sea border so the possibility of  simply driving into a foreign country has always held a fascination for me.

Before we had kids, Himself and I had to deliver a friend to Strasbourg,  since the friend hailed from a tiny island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and also found land borders to be a novelty, we thought it would be fun to drive in five countries in one day. We started in The Netherlands, transversed  Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany and France and delighted our friend with the small tour.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

It’s also amazing for me because when I first visited Europe as a kid, crossing each border was a long long hassle that involved queues of vehicles at the border crossings, customs, currency exchanges and passport checks and spot car searches.

The spot checks for cars still go on, and I think that all trucks are checked for customs and excise reasons but these days the border buildings are a shadow of their former selves and pretty much the only thing that really tells you that you have passed from one country to the next are the standard European Union border signs.

It’s been a decade since we had to check around the junk draw in the house to grab any leftover Belgium money before a trip to France so that if we wanted a sandwich or a toilet stop in Belgium on the way we would have the right currency to pay with. Heaven help you in those days if you offered to pay in Dutch Guildens in Wallonia or with French Francs in Flanders. The reception you would get upon attempting this was frosty to the point that you risked being snap frozen.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

I know that the introduction of the Euro wasn’t without it’s troubles  in the initial stages of the changeovers but wow, it makes travel within the EU member states that use it so much easier now.

One thing always makes me smile, our dear friend across the border Belgium, oft only famous for the fact that no one can think of much famous from it at all, (actually I can think of quite a few things after a little think: World class beer and chocolate, Frittes “french fries”,  Yes indeed, French fries are not from France !, Mannekin Pis,  sprouts, the capital of the EU , the comic book hero Tin-Tin  and the movie actor Jean-Claude Van Damme.)

Mostly though, it’s lightly ridiculed and plagued in it’s short history by the ongoing internal conflict between the Dutch speaking Flemish population in the North of the country (Flanders) and the French speaking Walloon population in the south (Wallonia) and it suffers the indignation of being the butt of both French jokes and Dutch ones too.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Such is the discord within the country that many inside and outside think that partition may be the only option in the long run.

The economic wealth in the country is concentrated to a large extent in the Flemish section of the country but the Wallonian section of the country is bigger than the Flemish section, so when it comes to electing a government their differences have been so great that they have been unable to get any coalition government formed at all, resulting in  a “caretaker” “temporary” government who have now been in power longer than the elected one it was supposed to replace.

It’s clear when we cross the Belgium border that their political problems aren’t going to be easily solved any time soon.  The name of the country in French is “Belgique” and the Vlaams  “België” and it is telling that when you cross the border that they even keep these name boards separate, just a few meters away from each other, but separate.  So many fabulous things in one country but they can’t resolve their differences. I think it’s a shame.

Crossing Belgium doesn’t take long, about an hour and then it’s time for our final border crossing of the day: Nederland. Once we see some of the “big rivers” with the busy barge traffic it’s clear that home is not far away at all now…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Hotel Review: Novotel Lens Noyelles in Northern France.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

We are still pushing northwards towards the Netherlands and the Belgium border is not too far away.

In theory if we pushed on, and the evening traffic thinned a little with no hiccups on the way, we could be home in about two hours or so.

But it’s been a long day in the car and Himself is tired, with me unable to provide assistance as second driver we take the safer option and start looking for a hotel for the night.

We were delighted with the Novotel we stayed in at Chartres  http://kiwidutch.wordpress.com/2011/05/27/novotel-chartres/ and so when we spot another Novotel at Lens, we pull in the gates with a smile. Suddenly the weariness hits us, my foot begins to ache with a vengence, the kids are getting irritated with each other and we are starving.

Himself disappears inside to Reception to ask if they have a Family room available. He comes out looking a bit glum… there are two family rooms available but one is upstairs (there is no lift) and the other is a smoking room.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

I’m a little astounded, families who use these rooms usually have younger kids, think push-chairs, baby seats, nappy bags and all the kid junk you need when travelling with young kids etc seriously,  why are Family rooms not automatically on the ground floor if there is no lift in the building? and even more worrying ….they actually allow smoking in a Family rooms where babies and young children sleep? in 2011 ? yikes.

I have chemical lung damage and an asthma problem so now we are faced with the choice, either I get to hobble up stairs ( painful) or I get to wheeze all night.  Even if I didn’t have a lung condition I wouldn’t want my kids sleeping in a smoking room.

We are tired to the point where we are  past looking for another hotel so I opt for the non-smoking room and the stairs and they tell us that there’s a restaurant on site but it’s clear that I can’t do the stairs twice so room-service it will be.

We order dinner,  and it’s tasty enough but there’s not a huge amount of it. I’ve included a second photo of Himself’s main to show you the whole plate.  Himself  was still hungry afterwards but too tired to be bothered ordering something extra and waiting for it to arrive etc.  All the little touches that made the other hotel special seem to a little off the mark here.

The view is only of the rooftop of the hotel… but for just off the motorway it’s quieter than I expected at least.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

We do however sleep very well and wake refreshed… let’s see what the new days brings.

 

Not just the Kilometers Racing Past…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Sometimes you see something from nature unfold before your eyes and are thankful to have your camera at hand.

It’s not too often that I really study clouds, most of the time we get the hazy wispy stuff, nothing terribly dramatic, but as we pass l’aéroport Charles de Gaulle outside Paris,  my attention is drawn to the fact that there are big storm clouds looming and that there is a majestic display of  white, black, blue and gray going on in the sky above us.

All of the following photos were taken in the order in which they appear, in approximately a ten minute minute period, and I even got a tongue in cheek  “bird on a wire” photo in the middle of the sequence. To be truthful, being in a moving car and taking photos out the window doesn’t really do these photos proper justice, the colours and variances looked far more intense and dramatic at the time. Oh to have been able to walk, able to stop, to have had a tripod and time to experiment… another day I’m sure I will get my chance. Today I had to make do with the fleeting opportunity presented alongside a motorway and airport.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Playing the Paris Game…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Each time we are on the Paris ring road, we play a game.

I’ve played the game for almost 18 years now,  many times: usually whilst travelling with Himself, on one occasion with a van load of  New Zealand friends visiting,  and now finally with my own children.

The game is called “spot le Tour Eiffel”  and is basically involves scanning the expanse of the Paris skyline until one of us successfully spots the Eiffel Tour.

For some reason it’s appears to be harder to see it if you are travelling north to south on the ring road, and easier to see it if you are travelling south to north, often it can only be glimpsed for fleeting moments and the rolling contours of the city do not make it easy.

Paris is a vast city, the ring road takes you down into tunnels, dips and bumps, a sort of semi subterranean motorway that weaves in and out of the overpasses, coming up for air at  bridges and where on-ramps and off-ramps are constantly appearing at odd moments.

Tens of thousands of cars changing lanes, and maneuvering around you are the norm, you need patience and wits to drive the Paris ring road.

Himself is concentrated on getting us through the maze,  I’ve introduced the kids to the Game, and each desperately wants to be first to see le Tour Eiffel, this will be their first ever glimpse of it.

I spot it first and nonchalantly say ” Did I see something over there maybe?” and point at a specific spot, Kiwi Daughter is quickest to see it next closely followed by Little Mr, but they are quick to squabble about who was really the one to have seen it first.

I’ll admit that I cheated a bit, because first in the front passenger seat I have the best view, and secondly I have the DSLR in my hands and have been periodically  using it’s superior telephoto to look further into the distance than is fair to the other players.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Kiwi Daughter has a tiny camera with half the zoom capability and Little Mr has nothing but his eyes and is at a further disadvantage because he’s far shorter and his eye level is probably closer to the  edge of the traffic barriers than to many objects higher up.

He does however manage to spot traffic police motorbikes remarkably quickly indeed.

Little boys appear to have radar for these things.

As an added bonus not only do we score le Tour Eiffel this time, but also far into the distance but crystal clear, De Basilique du Sacré-Cœur.

We also spot some interesting art installations on the ring road and, as we near the northern end of the city, the River Seine.

Tonight we have luck, we manage to move far more than we stand still, and like a tiny red blood cell being drawn into beating heart, we are sucked up into the artery and discharged into the northern outskirts a while later. Time to hunt for a bed.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Heading Northwards towards Paris…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

The van is packed, the kids have run around the gîte garden one last time and bid the two children who live in the farmhouse a fond farewell with hugs and lots of waving, and that’s how we head out under the archway and onto the roads amongst the vines for the last time this holiday.

Several of our friends have been to see us at the gîte, and we have been to visit several more, including one we fondly know as “Tante” (Auntie) who Himself has kept in contact with over many many years. Tante is currently 94 years of age, still sprightly and active but sadly now with only a smattering of relatives left.

She is the real aunt of the wife of the farmer for whom Himself picked grapes and she still lives in her own house. Sadly she’s had to become more reclusive and cautious these days after a con-man would-be burgler tried to trick her into letting him into the house, asked many personal questions about her and her possessions and got aggressive when she wouldn’t unlock the gate to let him in.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Luckily the neighbours do a lot for her and it was a delight to see her again. She doesn’t get many visitors these days and fondly remembers Himself from former times.

She didn’t make it to our wedding 16 years ago but, her niece and nephew did (the farmer’s wife’s daughter and her husband) and they delivered a set of saucepans from Auntie as a wedding present , all of which are still in service in my kitchen today.

We have always visited Auntie when we have been in the region and at her age now every time is “bonus”, she’s lovely and I admire that she still does so much herself.

The rest of our time has been quiet at the gîte, enjoying the garden, the stillness and the restfulness of the countryside here. The weather has been fabulous, wonderfully warm and we’ve loved it here.

Now we are making our way home wards, passing fields of  bright purple lavender,  fluorescent yellow koolzaad,  toll roads and more water towers… even even manage to spot a TGV racing past us at  over 200 kms per hour. Seeing one and managing to point it out to the kids before it’s long gone are two different things, but by attempt number four or so we managed. Getting a photo of a passing TGV is darned near impossible and although I tried, I only had photos of blurred trees to show for my efforts.

We get buzzed by a helicopter again but it seems to be quickly following the motorway and not the power lines this time so it could be a heli for traffic control or an air ambulance this time.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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The hours tick away with the kilometers  under our wheels and the afternoon is growing old as we approach Paris…

We have a Game to play…

Water, Water, Everywhere… Sort of.

Once again I am indulging my weird photographic fancies… water towers in France always have me captivated and on our way to visit our various friends I manage to find some to snap from the window of the van. They are as much a feature of the landscape here as the rows of vines and I never tire of  looking at them.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Looking Around the Easy Way…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

It’s annoying that most of my photos are being taken through the car windscreen this holiday.

I love to go on photographic walking tours and this time it just isn’t possible.

We sit at the gîte and yes, I am enjoying the garden and the fact that there are no stairs but on our few visits out we are in the car and this is now my only opportunity to take photos other than the kids playing in the garden.

I relieve my frustration by trying to get a few photos of the surrounding area at least.

The photos aren’t my best but they do show the charm of this part of France.

Soon we have to pack up and head homewards.

The unripe cherries remind us that sometime in the future it would be nice to be here in the summer when the fruits are full and ripe… the weather now at least is still fabulous, high 20′s (Centigrade) and blue sky every day. Health might not be perfect but at least the weather is making us smile.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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Delightful, Enchanting, Romantic Discoveries in a tiny French Village…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

As we criss-cross the small country roads back to the gîte, we come into the village of Bréville on the road called D48.

At the junction where it becomes the D22 we spy a wonderful sculpture in wood, a buxom lady in the Grecian style (no arms) with long flowing hair. All carved from a massive slab of wood. Most unexpected, on the edge of a small French village. How cool is this?

Himself  stops the car so that I can get a photograph out of the window,  and we make our way onwards thinking that some local artist has obviously made this… but just how much they have made only becomes apparent once we get into Bréville properly.

First, on the main street there is a row of seven small figures, but since I wasn’t up to hopping out of the van, I have to make do with hasty photos out the window as we pass by on the way through.

Then at the end of the street we find the  Mairie (a.k.a. hôtel de ville) which is the local town hall. and in front of it are three more large figures, a man, woman and female child, holding up the town clock. It’s an interesting juxtaposition next to the stone war memorial and in front of a very traditional French Mairie.

Later, around the next corner we see a large wooden archway form and just after we have left the village, a male and female figure embracing. I think that the female figure looks like she has a halo, our children looked at the male figure and have more “tele tubby” in mind.

One day when I can walk I would like to track down the studio of this sculptor, I think it might have been on the main street close to the seven small figures. It think all of these fabulous pieces will be well worth a closer look on a return visit.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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French Food should be Classed as a Leisure Activity…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

France has not only oodles of atmosphere, history and scenery but also a reputation for food matched by just a few cuisines around the world… ask anyone to name the top five world cuisines and surely France’s would be in there somewhere.

Since I am not mobile we have been spending time being lazy around the gîte and now we are again lucky enough to be invited to lunch in a French home…  the word “delicious” hardly begins to do it justice. In fact very few words do.  The bread this time is home made, and a lot of laughter flows around the table as we enjoy a leisurely mid-day meal.

The weather, at 27 C today  is still unusually and seriously warm for April and there is a talk that the locals are worried that a snap overnight freeze is stil possible and if the grape vines start growing too fast too early then the new buds could suffer frost damage if the worst happens. For the next three to four weeks they will have to hold their breath and watch the weather reports.

We speak to more people and this topic of conversation returns over and over, it’s on people’s minds.  Our lunch conversation takes us of course to other topics too, and gossip and fond stories about people Himself knew, either today living or dead are retold or updated as we are reminded of the past ans bought up to speed on the present.

Once again the lunch is outstanding…  your mouth waters as you spy the photos, mine does too as I remember eating this meal. Do we want more? Mais Oui!

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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Note to self: the  larger round of chévre (goat) cheese has to be one of the best goat cheeses I’ve ever tasted (I don’t like it too sharpish sour, this for me is goat cheese perfection).

Luckily I’m writing this post after the event so can tell you that the good weather endured long enough that the danger of frosts passed, much to the certain relief of many owners of vines.