Food, Wine, Photography Cycling & Gardening. Discover more about Life in Burgundy on The Hungry Cyclist Blog
Leaving the cold of Burgundy this winter we headed east to the island of Sri Lanka in search of heat, spices and culinary inspiration. After the renovations here in Auxey-Duresses it has been a while since I have pulled on my back pack. And how I missed it. Touring the island for a five weeks, this was a culinary adventure filled bustling markets, exciting new flavours, trains and wonderful people.
Read MoreA regular favourite here at The Hungry Cyclist Lodge is slow braised beef cheeks. Easy to prepare and unimaginably unctuous, they are full of flavour and the slow braise fills the house with glorious smells, perfect when returning from a days cycling and wine tasting in Burgundy. Paired with a creamy mash, flavoured with local Dijon mustard, this is a dish perfectly suited for autumn nights.
Read MoreThere is something optimistic about eating salad at the end of February. The days are noticeably longer, furry buds gather on fruit trees and a salad feels like an early taste of the balmy days to come. In the garden at this time of year only a few proud towers of sprouts remain. After the heavy frosts the mini cabbages that cling to the stalks are extra sweet and even more so when braised with some smoked pork rib.
Read MoreWalking in Burgundy in the winter you have to take care. From September to February when the temperature descends and the days shorten, Burgundian men like nothing more than to get together, drink plenty of wine, eat well and hunt wild boar.
Read MoreHardy plants, branches, watering cans, forgotten garden tools. Nothing is sparred from the sharp crystals of frost that cling to everything. The clear night sky makes way to the bluish hue of morning. A few hungry birds chatter in the bitter cold and heavy blanket of white cold is revealed.
Read MoreThe local classic that the region puts its name to is of course 'Boeuf Bourguignon'. First mentioned in cookbooks in 1903, by chef Auguste Escoffier, whose decedents still live in Beaune, it is likely this hearty, wine-soaked dish has it roots much deeper in regional history.
Read MoreEvery year on the third weekend in January, a Burgundian wine-making village welcomes the La Saint Vincent Tournante, one of the most historic bacchanalian festivals of the world. Organised by the famous Brotherhood of the Knights of Tastevin, La Saint Vincent Tournante, embodies the spirit of wine making in Burgundy.
Read MoreWe have plenty of tarragon here in the garden at The Hungry Cyclist Lodge and what isn't used to infuse vinegar is eaten in salads. Beetroot also grow well and provide a good burst of colour in the depths of winter.
Read MoreWinter in Burgundy is a time of heavy hearty food. There is plenty to do in the garden stripping ivy, cutting logs and digging beds and what energy isn't used on work is burnt trying to keep warm. While I hope the mill will be cool in the summer, at this time of year it is freezing cold. A fire in the evening and plenty of woollen layers help but coming in at noon it is a hard earned lunch that warms the soul.
Read MoreWe don't much go for the endive in England. The spear-shaped member of the chicory family perhaps getting over shadowed by the air-puffed bags of salad that stuff our shelves. The French however can't get enough of this bitter cluster of crunchy leaves . A native of Belgium, unlike most salads the endive can be grown all year round, including throughout the winter.
Read MoreCeleriac is not a pretty vegetable. Resembling the shruken-heads of some jungle tribe, they sit a little neglected on the green grocers shelves in England. Many customers are either put off by their unaesthetic appearance while others are just baffled with what to do with this chunky pale root. But ignore the celeriac at your peril because under its ugly surface lurks a flesh that is crispy when raw, silky smooth when cooked and that has a delicate taste which suggests the flavours of celery of which brows above ground if allowed.
Read MoreTorrential rain is driven by a stiff wind. Falling on the steep hillside it forms streams that run energetically between rocks and vines. Beneath dense clouds, that roll in from the west, the village of Meursault wakes up to another cold and wet February morning.
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