 I have always found that travel broadens my own personal recipe book, so to speak, and my appreciation of culinary diversity. I have explored the world extensively over the past 20+ years, including living and working in London, Switzerland, Greece, the Bahamas and New York. I continue to travel regularly for the culinary inspiration I gain from eating dishes in their country of origin. My recipes reflect influences of the cuisines of the world and whenever possible I like to share by writing about my travels. I've also been studying photography for the past 7 years, and have reached a level where I now takes my own travel images and professional food images. My photographs have been published in my cookbooks and also in several magazine travel features.
ON CRANBERRY POND
Julie Le Clerc takes a pilgrimage to beautiful New England, USA
There’s no doubt big cities like New York and Boston are exciting destinations,
but for a relaxing US vacation there’s nothing like the countryside. Recently,
55km south of Boston, I discovered breathtaking scenery, fascinating history,
unique local produce and some very friendly folk.
The towns of New England are quaint, with old English names such as Bedford, Rochester and Plymouth – and they’re all easy to visit by car. In fact, self-drive
car hire is really the best way to get around, enabling you to make a beeline to interesting off-road places.
I decide that Plymouth, where the original pilgrims landed in 1620, is a good
place to begin and following a brochure picked up from the visitor information
centre, I set out to retrace the footsteps of history. Plymouth Harbour is the
landing site of the Mayflower, which arrived in 1620 bearing a load of English settlers who were very keen to get back on dry land. Plymouth Rock itself lies
on the waterfront. It’s smaller than I’d imagined and well protected by a
colonnade.
Nearby, a replica of the Mayflower is anchored. It’s well worth taking a tour of
the boat to see for yourself the conditions those poor, intrepid pilgrims had to endure. Being a harbour-side town, Plymouth has dozens of eateries where
regulars and visitors alike can enjoy the luxury of seafood freshly caught in local waters. Succulent lobster, jumbo shrimp (which are bigger than king prawns), scallops and local types of fish feature on every menu in town.
I’ve set myself a mission to compare all the local versions of New England
chowder – a thick, creamy potato and clam soup. I do advise you to take a
hearty appetite to Plymouth as helpings are more than generous!
During their second fall (autumn), the settlers in Plymouth held the very first
Thanks-giving Feast – to express gratitude for the harvest’s bounty – with the
local native Americans who brought most of the food. This event is a major
milestone on the US calendar, and families and friends gather for feasts
revolving around roast turkey and seasonal produce such as pumpkin and cranberries.
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| On Cranberry Pond guesthouse |
I’ve set up base at On Cranberry Pond, a delightful guesthouse near the town
of Middleboro. The area around here feels like real Martha Stewart country,
with tall wooden Cape Cod-style houses, antiques, folk art and beautiful
woodlands full of pathways strewn with fallen pine needles and pretty autumn
leaves. Indeed, my “innkeeper”, Jeannine LaBossiere-Krushas, tells me that Martha’s magazine team has visited here and compiled a story on the wonders
of the local cranberry harvest.
Native to North America and well known to the indigenous Americans, the
health-giving cranberry has a long and fascinating heritage and a good part of
the district is devoted to cranberry growing.
While staying in Middleboro, I’m delighted when the chance arises for me to experience an Ocean Spray (farmers’ co-operative) cranberry harvest first-hand. The ruby-red cranberry is not only a super fruit with unique health benefits, but it
is harvested by quite extraordinary methods which make for truly spectacular viewing.
Cranberries grow in bogs (marshland) under tightly packed, low-growing
vines. They are very difficult to harvest by hand, so the majority are cleverly
wet-harvested.
Basically, the bogs are flooded with water, then the vines are beaten with a
paddle machine which releases the berries. Cranberries contain natural
air-pockets so they rise to the water’s surface and there they float in a
magnificent sea of swirling crimson.
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| That's me doing some cranberry wrangling! |
Wearing waders, workers wrangle and corral the berries, which are quickly
pumped out of the water, washed, then trucked to a receiving station to be processed into juice or sauces.
If you’re lucky enough to find yourself here at harvest time, do try to join a
cranberry bog tour. Some local communities also hold cranberry-harvest
festivals and information flyers are generally posted at local bogs and towns.
Fall (autumn) is a great time to visit this region, because there are few other
tourists around. The air is crisp, the sky blue and the harvest colours will stop
you in your tracks and keep your camera working overtime.
Locals introduce me to “leaf peeping”, which involves driving around and
watching the foliage change colour. There are even organised ”fall foliage
tours” wherein groups can marvel at the multi-coloured splendour. This may
sound a little like a trivial pursuit but I soon discover that connecting with
nature in this way has a wonderfully calming effect on stressed out city
dwellers such as myself.
In fact, I have to pull myself away from leaf peeping to stop for
lunch and as I tuck into yet another steaming bowl of New England chowder,
I can’t help thinking “Bet you wish you were here, Martha Stewart!”
Don’t miss: North American Cranberry bog harvest – October to November.
Julie Le Clerc travelled to New England courtesy of Ocean Spray.
Where to stay:
Julie stayed at On Cranberry Pond Guesthouse (bed and breakfast),
43 Fuller St, Middleboro, Massachusetts, USA .
“Here, I was spoilt with a home-cooked breakfast every morning (my host’s cranberry pancakes are legendary), and packed picnic lunches.”
For more information visit http://www.oncranberrypond.com/
Barging In...
Julie Le Clerc's culinary travels on a unique canal boat
through Southwest France
The canal craft Liberté stands out among the crowd of traditional barges on the European waterways. This impressive houseboat was actually built in New Zealand and transported
to Europe on a container ship by her Kiwi
owners, who now spend the northern summers exploring Europe at their leisure onboard
Liberté.
With this stylish set-up and with many years’ boating experience behind them, owners David and Janette Wylie, expertly and safely navigate canals, rivers
and locks, while, as a passenger, I can be as involved with the process of
boating as I choose.
I joined the Liberté for an excursion on the Canal du Midi (Southwest France), cruising from Carcassonne to Toulouse. A shady canopy of giant plane trees protects much of the Midi and throughout the scenery is magical. Travelling
via the canal yields an intimate view, allowing us to glimpse into people’s
gardens, houses and daily lives. I spent my time here delving into the land-
scape, wine and food of the Languedoc region, which surrounds the canal.
Moving through locks is a very distinct feature of
canal life. Sometimes there’s even an opportunity
to purchase ingredients, such as olive oil, wine, honey
or garden vegetables from the lock keepers. Local
open-air markets are another incomparable place to
shop for supplies to create a memorable breakfast
or lunch to share.
One of the great advantages of this form of transport
is having the freedom to stop when and where you
please and there are bikes onboard for those keen
on easy sightseeing tours. Walking or cycling from
the canal typically took us past fields of vivid sunflowers in full-bloom to small
villages of faded stone houses to buy our daily bread; to markets and wine
co-ops for supplies; or to local eateries to dine-out on regional specialities.
One of my favourite regional dishes is the speciality of Castelnaudary, cassoulet: a
meltingly rich stew of creamy white beans
flavoured with various meats, such as duck,
pork and sausage. This simple meal takes
its name from the cassole, an earthenware
cooking pot in which it is made. Cassoulet
is remarkably filling but I, like many others,
find it deliciously irresistible.
I gained endless inspiration from visiting the village markets to select stunning produce to cook on the barbecue or in Liberté’s spacious kitchen. During
convivial meals onboard we savoured the flavours of market-fresh food, such
as juicy sun-warmed tomatoes; wild asparagus; saucisson sec (dried sausage) enrobed in local herbs; perfectly ripened cheeses; and crusty baguettes and pastries still warm from the bakery.
During this memorable voyage I created the following recipe from local
ingredients and discoveries made along the way. Try it and experience a
taste of the French summer – canalside. Bon appétit!
Cherry Tomato Pastries with Persillade
Persillade is a mixture of chopped parsley and garlic, which is added to
certain French dishes after cooking. It works to deliciously perfume these
tomato pastries.
Makes 4
Cherry Tomato Pastries:
1 pre-rolled sheet puff pastry
1/4 cup sun-dried tomatoes
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 cups ripe red cherry tomatoes
Persillade:
1/4 cup parsley leaves
2 cloves garlic, peeled
1 Preheat oven to 200°C. Divide the pastry sheet into 4 even squares and
place squares on a lightly oiled baking tray. With the tip of a knife, score a
1cm border around the edge of each pastry square and prick the centre of
each with a fork.
2 Puree the sun-dried tomatoes in a food processor and season with salt
and pepper to taste. Spread puree over the centre of each pastry square,
leaving the border free of topping. Arrange cherry tomatoes to cover the
sun-dried tomato puree.
3 Bake for 20 minutes or until the pastry edges are puffed and golden brown. Remove from the oven and sprinkle with persillade while still hot.
4 To make persillade, finely chop parsley and garlic and mix together.
Spice of life
Julie Le Clerc gives us her gourmet-view on an Intrepid
tour of India
In India, staggering grandeur sits alongside heart-wrenching poverty. Old ladies
in traditional saris chat on fancy mobile phones while young women carry vast
bundles of sticks on their heads, gracefully crossing modern six-lane highways.
I suspect a tour might help prevent too much culture shock and choose an Intrepid Gourmet Tour for its focus on all things food. The promised accommodation includes
a real castle, a palace-style guest house, and some lovely hotels – many with the
bonus of on-site cooking demonstrations. We kick off in Delhi, visiting major tourist
sites and exploring fascinating back streets.
Indian driving initially seems totally crazy, but it’s actually a well-ordered system. Tooting is imperative and not as aggressive as in other parts of the world. A loud honk doesn’t mean ‘get out of the way’. The driver is simply saying ‘hey, I’m coming through.’ This friendly practice keeps the traffic flowing and a chorus of constant tooting fills the air, all day, every day.
I hail a tuk tuk and motor towards Old Delhi’s intricate oriental bazaar – a jigsaw puzzle divided into different specialty stalls and workshops. In its atmospheric lanes I am hypnotised by the fragrances of the spice bazaar, and mesmerised by the vibrant sari stalls and handmade kites.
 There’s a whole street of stalls selling threaded flower garlands, incense and other temple offerings, and tantalising street food stalls everywhere. Lethargic cows wander most streets. The Hindus regard them as holy animals. To my surprise a seemingly docile creature aims its horns, and head down, launches itself towards me. I’m further surprised when a tiny, frail, old lady pulls me up into her shop, beating the cow away with a stick. When I calm down I thank her as best I can, then carry on my way, vowing to be a lot more wary of holy cows in future.
 At Agra, the ancient capital of the Moghul Empire, and home of the Taj Mahal – we spend many hours admiring the marvellous mausoleum designed by Moghul emperor, Shah Jehan, in memory of his favourite wife and love of his life. As the white marble dome reflects the final pink rays of the setting sun at the end of the day, there’s a sense of serene majesty and immortal beauty.
Next stop is the capital of Rajasthan, Jaipur – the Pink City – so called because many
of the buildings are pink, the traditional colour of welcome. There’s much to see: the Amber Fort, the City Palace complex and the majestic Palace of the Winds where the purdah ladies of the harem could watch the street below, unseen.
Picturesque Udaipur, set on the shores of a dazzling lake,
is my favourite Indian city. This evening we eat out, feasting on spicy local food, seated on huge cushions at a café overlooking the water and the sparkling lights of the city.
Next morning, I awake to the Muslim call to prayer and an unfamiliar thumping sound – like a tennis ball hitting a wall. Peering out I see a group of women beating clothes on the ghats (lakeside steps) where laundry and personal washing traditionally takes place.
A boat ride on the lake is the best way to view this scenic place and to get an up-close look at the floating Lake Palace Hotel (made famous during filming of the James Bond movie, Octopussy).
At a local produce market we buy vegetables for our Indian cooking class at The Spice Box. Our host, the self-proclaimed Jamie Oliver of India, is a real comedian, as well as a great teacher and cook. We all roll and cook our own chapati (Indian flatbread) and make a variety of authentic, tasty dishes.
A good day’s drive takes us to our next destination, crossing the border from Rajasthan into the Gujarat region and Ahmedabad. Here, in an amazing rooftop restaurant, with bats flying overhead and flaming braziers, I enjoy one of the most remarkable meals of my life.
The tabletops are strewn with rose petals, and magnificently dressed wait-staff serve a continuous feast of deliciously perfumed, carefully spiced dishes. It’s truly dreamy – like an ornate Bollywood movie set! Next, we fly to, Mumbai (once Bombay) – the city of dreams and the home of Indian movies – where thousands come in hope of making their fortune.
Sadly I don’t see much of Mumbai, as I have succumbed to Bombay Belly (not a major case, luckily) and decide to rest. However, there’s shopping and sightseeing and beaches for those so inclined.
A jumble of carriages, taxis, carts, cows, rickshaws, camels and bicycles and a sea of people swirl around the Mumbai central train station as we arrive to board the overnight train to Goa. The carriages are packed and passengers hang out windows and doors, often with goats in their arms. This is highly organised chaos and our fascinating journey ends with Indian breakfast and masala chai (spiced tea) distributed to hundreds of passengers, as if by magic. The sleeping sheets and blankets are collected and folded away just as we arrive at our stop.
With its Portuguese influence, Goa is an unusual blend of Christian churches, colourfully painted buildings, sandy beaches, tropical vegetation, and Indian fusion food. I stay at the quaint Panjim Inn and spend a couple of days walking around Fontainhas, where I glimpse old Panjim as it once existed during Portuguese rule.
On a visit to a stunning local spice plantation, I see spices growing in their natural state. There’s everything from black peppercorns (the seeds of a creeping vine) – to cinnamon trees (the bark is ground to make cinnamon powder as we know it).
All too soon my Intrepid Indian experience is over. As I sit at Mumbai airport waiting for the luxury of my Qantas flight home, my mind is a whirl of colourful images, unforgettable experiences, spicy taste memories, and friendly faces. India is many things to many people, but to me, it’s an endlessly fascinating visual feast that must be tasted at least once in a lifetime.
Julie Le Clerc
Factfile
✱ Intrepid Travel offers a variety of international tours, visitwww.intrepidtravel.com or freephone (New Zealand) 0800 600 610.
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