We took a bus to the Basque town Sare... or should I say Sara, the locals had spray painted over the French spelling on the road signs. I hadn't realized what an interesting group the Basque people are, or how delicate politics are in small towns like that. I don't know much about them other than any place that has all of the French road signs blacked out is definitely wanting some independence, and my professor said that things were a bit delicate (If you have some time follow the link above--I had no idea about ETA and the strong Basque nationalist movement). Anyway, the reason we went to Sara was to go to the Museum of the Basque cake and to learn how to make it.
It felt really exciting to have a Basque chef assign us our stations and instruct us in Franglaise (French/English)--definitely felt like I was having a Julia Childs My Life In France moment. Luckily for us the dough or "pate" en francais, was already prepared and all we had to do was roll it out, cut circles, and then put in the rum creme filling. I tried to put a fancy design on it that was supposed to look like the Basque cross (far right):
But it didn't really work out....
 |
| Ready to bake! |
...my excuse is that I hadn't actually seen one properly until after I had made my design.
I know of a couple gourmet-inclided people who may or may not actually read this, but just incase you have the desire to make a Basque dish this is how it goes:
Haha! You probably thought I was going to write it out didn't you? Well I was until I saw how many notes I had taken and that all of the ingredients were measured in grams (cause that's how they measure things this side of the Atlantic) and I didn't think it would be helpful to give you measurements that didn't make sense...and I may or may not have just not felt like converting all those numbers.
The "cake" was good, but definitely not my super-favorite thing to munch. I'm more of a gelato/chocolate/cream/puff pastry/fruit person. The gateau basque tasted most like a very sweet sugar cookie with a very subtle cream in the middle that was absorbed into the pastry that just lent some moisture to the pastry. It was also super greasy in a yummy buttery way, but greasy nonetheless.
The best part was afterwards when the chefs critiqued everyones cakes in French...we didn't understand very much and there were lots of lovely misunderstandings...like when I thought the chef told me that my cake deserved a kiss...and I still cannot tell you what he actually said...because I don't know.
We had a lunch break in Espelette, which is a beautiful white washed Basque village famous for its peppers. In the picture above you can see the chilies drying.
We then went to St. Jean Pied de Port, which is well known for it being the old Basque capital of Lower Navarre, however, now it is better known as a stop in the Way of St. James pilgrimage. So everywhere in the town shops and homes have the scallop seashell of St. James in their windows indicating that pilgrims are welcome there.
We hiked up a hill to the citadel which over looks the town.
There were lots of stairs...and it was a very toasty climb!
And there you have it: St Jean Pied de Port!
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