Cap Ferret: oyster heaven

As I mentioned in an earlier post, we spent some of our summer holiday with friends on the Cap Ferret peninsular, an hour's drive from Bordeaux. Attracting well-heeled French holidaymakers with a taste for healthy outdoor pursuits and good living, it is not unlike The Hamptons in the United States: relaxed, understated, but still rather chic and bourgeois. However, it has an distinctive local industry that prevents Cap Ferret from getting too chichi as it becomes increasingly fashionable.

Cap Ferret is a thin tongue of land that runs between the Atlantic Ocean curling around, almost embracing, the 37,000-acre Bassin d'Arcachon. This is one of the country's most important oyster farming areas and the primary breeder of oysters that go on to be reared elsewhere in France. Ostreiculture or oyster farming has been present here in various forms since Roman times, and strolling around some of the small towns offers a picturesque glimpse of this industry (along with, of course, the opportunity to taste). The oyster parks and beds – marked by groups of upright stakes that punctuate large parts of the Bassin – date back to the mid 19th century when Napoleon III encouraged organised oyster farming as wild oysters were dying out. The native flat oysters (Ostrea edulis) were gradually replaced by Portuguese oysters (Crassostrea angulata) and, more recently in the 1960s, Pacific oysters (Crassostrea gigas).

The attractive wooden cabins used by oyster farmers date back to the late 19th century and several incorporate attractive waterside terraces for customers to enjoy local molluscs with crisp, refreshing local wine (usually Entre Deux Mers) for just a few Euros. To the south, beyond the resort town of Arcachon, the spectacular Dune de Pyla will be visible in the distance. Other local seafood is excellent, especially the small, sweet local mussels. Chez Hortense at the southerly tip of Cap Ferret serves enormous portions of moules frites with a meaty sauce enrichened with duck fat; I don't know how their chic regulars remain so trim. (This footage on YouTube is one family's take and shows the glorious location.)

Here are some photographs taken around the villages of Le Canon and L'Herbe (where we had the bargain 15 Euro set lunch at the Hotel de la Plage).

Canelés: chic and versatile

In the summer while we were on holiday in Cap Ferret we were able to enjoy some of our favourite local delicacies: canelés. I vividly recall being introduced to them a few years ago when visiting the region. At the time it struck me that if Yorkshire pudding and crème anglaise (or a smart home-made, vanilla-flecked custard) got together they would produce this rather elegant, glamorous offspring. Since then I've wanted to try making them. This summer, while staying in our friends' house again and consulting one of their cookery books, I had the chance. My friend Christine loves canelés, but tends to make a savoury version with cheese and chorizo. I needed to tackle the classic sweet version first.

The recipe looked straightforward. In a large pan heat a litre of milk with 200g caster sugar, 3 sachets of vanilla sugar, 100g butter and 5cl rum until the sugar has dissolved.

Remove the pan from the heat and beat in the flour. This was a bit scary as it looked quite lumpy – I've since seen other recipes which suggest sieving or blending the batter at this stage.

Add four eggs, one at a time, thoroughly beating them into the batter until you have what the recipe describes as a pâte lisse (smooth paste). (I must say this stage was hard work and I ended up with a very achy arm!) This may also be the time to leave the batter overnight or for longer to settle as suggested in many other recipes.

Generously butter the canelé moulds and pour in the batter, but be careful not to overfill. However, buttering the moulds may not be necessary with modern silicone moulds. Some recipes suggest using beeswax instead of or combined with butter to help create the glossy, hard, caramelised exterior, and advocate using traditional copper moulds.

Bake in a preheated oven at 200°C/Gas Mark 6 for 40 minutes. (Mine needed another 10 to 15 minutes and probably could have done with longer. Other recipes suggest starting off at a very high temperature such as 230°C for the first 15 minutes to boost the caramelisation and reducing the temperature for the rest of the cooking. It's also worth being aware of how they rise dramatically and then sink back down again. Don't worry: they're meant to be quite dense and chewy.)

For a first attempt, my results weren't too bad. They lacked the even dark, glossy sheen of the professional examples, but had a good rich vanilla flavour and seductive texture, although they could have done with more of a rum kick. Nevertheless, they were delicious with coffee and made an easily assembled chic dessert, especially when served with seasonal fruit and a glass of Sauternes or Monbazillac.

French food markets: Cap Ferret

I'm easily pleased on holiday. Point me in the direction of a food market and I'll happily amuse myself strolling around gazing, salivating and taking photographs. This summer we spent part of our holiday with friends in Cap Ferret on the Atlantic coast in France where we enjoyed plenty of mouthwatering seasonal produce and local delicacies.