As Mont-St-Michel groaned, lurched and came to a final halt as we docked in Caen, car engines all around me on the upper-deck fired up. To say I was terrified of driving abroad for the first time would be a gross understatement. My heart started palpitating and knuckles turned a ghoulish shade of white as I gripped the steering wheel of Clarice – my little Clio or noble steed as I see her!
However, after five minutes on the road and a few glances down at my hands – where I had clearly labelled my right hand as the side, I should be driving on just to be safe – I was away! In fact, I’d even go as far as saying driving on the right makes far more sense! But, I digress…
As the saying goes; the apple never falls far from the tree and nothing could be closer to the truth in Normandy. Calvados, as the region’s brandy proudly carries the name, really is true apple country. This flat picturesque landscape has proven inefficient to produce France’s best wines and the even flatter landscape of Brittany (either this or the areas cheese tax!) has also proven subservient to create cheeses: Indeed, Brittany is the only area of France without an AOC* cheese! (*AOC is short for The appellation d’origine contrôlée which translates as a controlled designation of origin.)
This, however, is not such the case in Normandy, being the home of the much celebrated and loved Camembert – not to mention a rich selection of other AOC cheeses, including; Livarot, Chevre Neufchâtel, Pont-l’Evêque. However, personally, I am an absolute chèvre fanatic. Being the dairy heartland of France, goats cheese is in ample supply! In fact, a farm just a few minutes down the road to where we were staying, produce a deliciously creamy and fragrant example from their anything but modest 150 strong heard. This specific local speciality is labelled Le Bajocasse – which charmingly translates as “someone who resides in Bayeux” – and over 1000 drums of this chèvre are sold in the region every week.
When it comes to booze, instead of attempting to compete with the rest of France’s vineyards, the Normans have seemingly decided to branch out – quite literally – and gone down the cider path.
Once turning off the historically significant N13 and driving along the D514 – very comfortably now may I add – which runs parallel to the infamous Omaha Beach, there are signs every 400m tempting you to stop and sample all kinds of homegrown nectars. Whether that is to savour famous Ciders, palate the delights of Pommeau or to sip on carefully perfected Calvados. Whatever tipple takes your fancy, each brew remains remarkably unique to the individual farms that often are beautifully depicted on their bottles or in their names.
After having such signs flaunted before my eyes, even prior to arriving at our charming Étréham farmhouse – found on Airbnb – I made cider sampling a key feature on my holiday bucket list. I was to realise this goal sooner rather than later: After a nip around the impressive cathedral in Bayeux and an obligatory viewing of the amazing tapestry – where, being a history graduate, I was really able to get my geek on, this inject of culture built up quite the thirst. And so we stopped – or I demanded we stopped – at this extraordinarily quaint restaurant and creperie we passed that was set in an old mill right on the river – or stream – that flows through Bayeux. To my delight, it just so happened to also be fully stocked with all the best local ciders.
I was surprised to be presented my drink in a small medievalesque ceramic cup, but it seemed fitting. Bayeux itself represents such a rich history for Normandy, and England for that matter, and these cups – or bowls – signalled how it has sleepily sunk back into its romantic past. The cider itself was anything but sleepy: a fruity sweet front with sharper undertones followed by a heady woody tang. The taste was so perfect that it transported you right back to the farm which it has been pressed, distilled and bottled on and even right back to the tree when it all first began.
However, cider is not the only offering that the Normand larder brings to the table. No, no; in this rustic surrounding you will be certain to find yourself in good company. Due to the lush land, the meat supply is found in great quality and the typical French Charcuterie items are melt in the mouth. I was lucky enough to meet a wonderful charcuterie producer at one of the local markets. He was all too willing to take me through his numerous wares and describe the processes – as best he could to me whilst I was awkwardly stumbling on my less than perfect schoolgirl French. The seven-month hung deer – or ‘cerf’ as I now know – was particularly good.
Additionally, the country’s long coastline holds bounties of fresh fish, shellfish, lobster, crabs, clams, whelks, scallops, mussels and no less than two AOC oysters from the Manche and Calvados regions. Most of which I was lucky enough to taste at this gloriously authentic little seafood restaurant in St Vaast situated right on the front: whilst dining you are almost mesmerised by witnessing the numerous fisherman sorting through the day’s catch. As you can see, in Normandy no one will be going hungry.
However, this was not always the case and you simply cannot go to Normandy and brush over this fact. If we go back 72 years, to the fateful day of June 6, 1944, the landscape was scenes away from the tranquillity that is so cherished by Normandy today:
The allied forces, having landed on the Norman coast, were expecting to come face to face with a weakened German force after a week’s bombing campaign. However, this was not the case and the bombers had not been as effective as predicted. Although D-day was a turning point in the war that led to the Allies victory, the losses suffered on such a day(s) is immeasurable and the operation’s consequences still remain very visible on the countryside.
In a nice kind of way, I see Normandy’s obsession with the sea and the yield it offers, as representing and serving as a homage to the recent past and what those brave young soldiers sacrificed on the beaches so we could enjoy such fruits.
One aspect of France that I always look forward to going to are the markets. Especially when staying in a very rural setting as the markets are noticeably less laden with touristy gimmicks. They are more focused, more honest, more organic and real produce really is their main game. The Wednesday market in Bayeux is much more along these lines, being far smaller than it’s Saturday counterpart. It is clearly more geared up towards the locals.
During one such visit, I found myself talking to a jam producer and farmer called Pascal – oh so French! He was more than eager to allow me to smell, sample and view his tempting preserves. The local producers’ willingness to express the superiority and genuineness of their seemingly humble produce was completely overwhelming. What struck me most about these jams was their vibrant colours and their taste – which was remarkable. They didn’t taste like jam, they tasted like fruit, I felt like I was truly eating apricots and not some offshoot.
Supermarkets, in the same way, visually celebrate all that Normandy has to offer. If you are at a loss on what to explore next, French supermarkets can often act as a great brainstorming arena. They are so much removed from the purpose-built versions we have back home. I for one could have spent hours happily browsing the aisles taking in the cheeses, local brews and of course the vibrant, amazingly large and almost bursting veg. And did just that on several occasions to the sheer annoyance of my waiting family.
However, there weren’t complaining when I whipped up my very own dishes showcasing some of the seasonal goods: [recipes coming soon I promise!]
I feel that, especially when on holiday, using, newly in-season ingredients, such as beetroot and squid, works to present dishes that speak for themselves. I thought this offered a nice tribute to Normandy, which, just like its produce, is unassuming, modest yet luscious and saporous.
Overall, Normandy continued to surprise. Presenting one foodie delight after another. Being just a short ride over the Channel, 6hrs to Caen or 4 to Cherbourg – from Portsmouth and Poole respectively, it is highly accessible. But for some strange reason, it is often overlooked. I would definitely recommend taking a tour of the region and sampling the best that the orchards, markets, beaches and charmingly archaic towns and villages have to offer.
A little Tasty 