France is famous the world over for its attention to mealtime detail. None more so than the Christmas Eve celebration of “Le Réveillon de Noël”.

Hello again dear Platform 13 readers. Is it December already? Wow. . where did the year go? Christmas ... Some, like my husband Kris, just don't like it, but most people love that dark period of the year where lights and candles shine and give us a special feeling. Our eldest son especially loves this time of the year, just because of the lights everywhere. On the streets, in the gardens strung around the house … For me Christmas always has been a family thing. Being togethe

Every year, I hear someone say "It just keeps getting earlier "... referencing the sudden appearance of Christmas in late September. Like it matters. For me, any season that is associated with joy, giving and connection to loved ones can start its shift as early as it damn well pleases. Many do not share my view here and I fully respect that. For some, the hoildays are strongly linked to sadness, stress, depression and anxiety, for which I am profoundly sorry. That must suck.

French supermarkets at Christmas-time are irresistibly mesmerising. Perhaps it’s the seasonal theatre of it all - quarries of oysters; gentlemanly rows of sincere-looking Champagnes, serious wines that require a quick chat before being chosen. Stockpiles of chocolate logs arranged like artillary ordanance. Or maybe it’s simply the Star Wars scale of the Hypermarché itself, which in December feels less like a shop and more like an obstacle course in Oz. "It's ok, I've got thi

"We have two ears and one mouth, so we can listen twice as much as we speak". - Eptictetus. -

Our understanding of the contemporary meaning of etiquette is possibly aligned with what the dictionary tells us - "The mindful, intentional practice of creating respectful, kind, orderly interactions". It still feels like a term that will always be a little distant, perhaps the domain of the snobby English, the word itself residing in a tidy cottage, somewhere near Wimbledon. We see the meaning plainly - as the opposite of queue jumping or asking a woman how old she is. Thi

OK.. I will admit, I did not know that was what a pre-picked lentil looked like. Which got me thinking around what else I did not know about lentils - and don't imagine I am suicidally bored, or at the wrong end of a bag of California's finest gummies. There is always a tin in the cupboard, thanks to Vanessa, who will gleefully stir them into to pretty much anything. I saw lentils more as a food to be consumed when all else is gone. When the sirens blast, sending us scurrying

Hello again dear members and readers of Brave Seeds - "La voix de Platform 13" - That is a free French pun, by the way - Voix means voice, and Voie (pronounced the same) is the railway line that runs along the patform.. funny non? Maybe it is Belgian humour, which is more sophisticated.. So I was asked for a recipe that showcased the Lentilles de Puy - Puy lentils. I use them A LOT in my Autumn and Winter foods. They are so versatile and full of goodness. This dish comes from

In France, where "bread is life", what happens when the bakery closes? Few countries keep such extensive data around bakeries as France does. According to a 2017 government report, 73% of the French population lived within half a mile of a Boulangerie. Of course, in a country where 8-out-of 10 people live in largely urban areas, it is plainly not a city-dwellers problem. It is in rural France where the loss of the village bakery strikes like a family bereavement. For the purp

Is food really better in France? Not in that romantic "strolling through the market with a cute wicker basket" way, but in a pure sense of basic taste. And I am not talking about Michelin-starred fine dining or €500 truffle tastings. I am referring to bread, cheese or tomoatoes. A roasted "poulet frites" in a budget bistro. The kind of food that should be pedestrian enough not to even warrant effusive praise, yet still makes you pause, mid-mouthful and smile. Butter, infused

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There are few ingredients as humbly useful as the onion. It appears in every kitchen, at every stage of unprompted regrowth and under every list of ingredients. Raw and sharp in summer salads, melted and brown in winter stews, or quietly working in the background of rich sauces, often without due credit. The French don’t just cook with onions — they have built the entirety of French cuisine around them. France grows more onions than any other country in Europe, and you can ta

Golden apples. The asteroid-like quince is the last fruit to ripen - the one that waits until the year breathes out. Hard and bitter when raw, it softens only through patience and care. Once sacred to Aphrodite, it remains a quiet symbol of transformation: if you take your time, you'll get your reward. It's not the best looking fruit in the orchard, but nature is not so bothered with looks. Perfect imperfection is sometimes just right. The quince is a golden relic of autumn t

The rather sultry soundtrack of November is not only about cold fingers tapping on the barometer and raindrops on rooftops. Over the ploughed and purposeful fields of Lot et Garonne, the air is full with the honky tonk of departing geese. Like feathered fighter jets, you will hear them before you see them — a ragged, cloud-bound squadron, formed as a straggly V, calling desperatey to each other to keep things together. It's comfortingly instinctive - a DNA thing. I love seein

This month, rather than a focus on food and what makes our table groan, we feel a bit caught up in remebrance. Of course that in itself is quite fitting for November. It is a month roomy with retrospection, governed for most of us through the memorial of the 11th hour of the 11th day, to the waste they called "Great War". Mexico celebrates grief through continuity on the día de los muertos and the left-footers of Europe do their own version of their very best, on All Saints

There are so many questions when one moves to France. Will it be hard to learn the language? How should I dress? And, most urgently, how will I not “wear” all those pastries and calories, never having been raised on French cuisine? I can’t be the first one to obsess over these things, right? I did some investigating and data collection after a house viewing trip that coincided with my Birthday. We stayed in a tiny village in Provence, with nothing in it, aside from a few farm

Ah, the walnut tart - that quietly confident dessert that needs neither hot custard nor sticky jam to make its entrance. Born in the hills and valleys of southwest France, it’s what happens when fistfulls of rural walnuts meet a good curl of butter, a wide ribbon of cream and a decent crackle of sugar. No drama, no tiers, no soufflé to collapse — just a golden crust holding everything in perfect balance. There’s an elegance to it, though not the fluffy, Parisian sort. It’s th

Let’s start with the obvious: the French eat. With butter, with wine, with joy. Meanwhile, across the channel or indeed the big pond, we seem to eat with an undercurrent of apology. We talk about “being good” when we skip dessert, or “cheating” when we don’t — as if a pastry were a moral failing. Somewhere between the calorie counter and the confession booth, food stopped being nourishment and became a referendum on self-control, by which we often judge ourselves unkindly Thi

September - the season of the humble plum. All across South-West France, markets are filled to the gunwhales with baskets and boxes of them — deep purple, mustard yellow, something red. Their skins, that always look like they could do with a dust and a polish, cover that flesh that we covet. .. sweet, tangy, and the stuff of unavoidable dribbling. They're not around for long, and you can sense the hurry in everyone not only in getting them to market, but also carting them h

October is the opal month of the year. It is the month of glory, of ripeness — and of walnuts. It's a grand month in France, is October. The days are still and temperatures kind. It's good market weathr land walnuts are everywhere. Craggy little treasures, it feels so good to plunge your hand into a sack of them just for a grin.I am not sure which nut wears the kingly crown, as they could all make a pretty good case, but the walnut could easily be annointed. They have that re