Baking in January - pear and apricot frangipane

Gateaux at Hirsinger, Arbois

December in France is a celebration of food and drink, and in particular there is a focus on the traditional patisseries and chocolatiers which produce decadent cakes and chocolates. Having stayed a few nights in Arbois, in the Jura region, I had the opportunity to see the displays of gateaux, marrons glacees and chocolates at Hirsinger, one of the finest chocolatiers and patisseries in France. Entering the shop you become intoxicated with the heady scent of rich chocolate which lures you towards their counters, and a purchase.

Returning home after Christmas through Paris with Corinne meant I could indulge myself with a brief excursion to gaze at the fashionable creations on display at Laduree and Fauchon. Time did not allow a visit to the Le Notre boutique patisserie, which was a shame because Mr. Le Notre, a legend and creator of the revolutionary "Opera" gateau, had just died at the grand old age of 88.

An iced cake with macaroons at Laduree, Paris

In the busy run up to Christmas in France, the media focus their attention on the patisseries of Laduree and Le Notre, flagships of their art, as they produced their own elegant and exclusive examples of the traditional buche de noel. The interviews gave a brief tantalising glimpse into the kitchens or cuisines of these establishments. The cameras panning around allowed us to see the chefs at Laduree attentively finishing the buches, encrusting the rich butter icing with a variety of macaroons using the skill and care of an instrument grade jeweller.

When I passed Laduree there was a reverent queue outside which was casually organised and watched over by a rather gruesome undignified looking security guard. Why? It appears that no recession on the planet can reduce the demand for the dainty colourful macaroons that are the trademark of Laduree. Fauchon was more sedate and modern displaying its culinary creations with a confident bravado in its wraparound windows.

Carre frambroise from Fauchon, Paris

Installed back in my humble small open plan kitchen dining & living area, I felt inspired by the modern alchemy I had witnessed in the gateaux cares (square cakes) and mignardises (a fancy french word for small cakes), but obviously less so by the English language which rarely does justice to these delicacies. I wanted to make a cake or tart, but gradually realised my limitations in setting out to use the ingredients that were easily available. In my local supermarket I was able to purchase pears from Portugal and apricots from South Africa. It almost felt as disappointing, wasteful and decadent as standing in line at Laduree, but it appears very little locally produced fruit is sold by Irish shops and supermarkets.

The night before baking, I poached 10 apricots in a white wine and vanilla syrup; 250mils of water, 50gs of sugar, glass of white wine and a vanilla pod.

Making pastry is far from difficult. However, some rules apply because if the pastry is poor the tart might be edible but will certainly be miserable. Pastry requires good baking flour and chilled butter, mixed and rubbed together in a 2:1 ratio. If you feel tempted to use something other than butter try to remember the words "edible" and "miserable" and you might be inclined to change your mind. Anthony Bourdain in his book "Kitchen Confidential" chose more caustic remarks to reinforce his viewpoint on this topic.

It is a distinct advantage in making a good shortcrust pastry to have a pair of cold hands. During Winter this is rarely a problem for me, but I ritually runs my hands under cold water during the warmer months. Having rubbed the flour and butter together to a breadcrumb consistency, add two or three tablespoons of cold water and mix until all the ingredients combine (if using 200gs of flour and 100gs of butter). If the mixture remains dry add more water, and if it becomes too moist add some more flour. Then place your pastry in the fridge for half an hour or more.

While the pastry is resting in the fridge you can make the frangipane. For my 8 inch square baking tin I use the following ingredients: Butter -125gs, Sugar - 125gs, Ground almonds - 125gs, Eggs - 3, Flour - 2 heaped tablespoons.

In a food processor blend the butter and sugar for a few minutes until well combined. Thereafter add the eggs one by one mixing all the time. At this point you can add some vanilla extract if you wish. Thereafter, add the ground almonds and flour and pulse two or three times, as the mixture should not be overworked with these ingredients. If the mixture appears too runny add a little more flour.

My pear and apricot frangipane tart before it went into the oven

Take the pastry from the fridge and roll it out on a floured surface until the pastry is about 4mm thick. Grease your tin with butter, dust with flour and lay in the pastry. Trim the pastry and neaten the edges. After straining the apricots and reserving the syrup, tear away the fleshy fruit of the apricots from the stones, and place on the pastry in the baking tin. With a spatula spread the frangipane mix evenly over the apricots. Having pealed, cored and cut in half three or four pears, place them neatly on the frangipane mixture. The pears can be fanned by carefully slicing the base of the fruit, which among other things gives a nice effect when glazed. Without further ado, place the tart in a preheated oven at 180C and cook for about 45 minutes. The frangipane is cooked when it has risen and is well browned. You can also dip a knife into the tart and if it comes out clean the tart is cooked.

Once taken from the oven, leave the tart to cool for 10 minutes. In the meantime, place two tablespoons of apricot jam into a small saucepan with two tablespoons of the reserved apricot syrup and bring to the boil. Thereafter, liberally brush the glaze onto the tart and leave to stand and cool. The vanilla enriched apricots provide a wonderful luxurious edge to the standard pear and almond tart and if you are prepared to use just about every piece of kitchen equipment you own I am sure you will not be disappointed with this tart.

The glazed apricot and pear frangipane tart

As a postscript I have to admit that I always make a little too much pastry. This can be put down to a deliberate attempt at gluttony, but it does allow me to experiment a little. I have uploaded a photograph of a few apple and apricot glazed tarts which I made with the pastry cuttings and left overs. The remnants of the apricot glaze also came in handy to decorate these little fruit tarts.

Velvet Shank - Flammulina Velutipes - A Winter surprise

Velvet shanks or flammulina velutipes

Over the last few days there have been very strong winds, and generally wet and cold conditions. These are the typical characteristics of an Irish Winter, which result in people locking themselves in to get comfortable with a log fire, or retreating to a public house with friends to discuss the latest financial crisis that might be griping the nation. I was in need of a little exercise, fresh air and an escape, and decided to brave the elements and revisit the birch forests to hunt around for signs of new life brought forth from the depths of Winter. Patches of snow and ice were still frozen on the grass and dark clouds laden with heavy showers did not deter me in my quest.

The forest was unusually quiet and patches of thick verdant moss extended along corridors where only the sun could reach. Elsewhere, there was a world of darkness, decay and the remnants of brown leafy matter. In a small opening the sun illuminated an old birch stump and upon it two velvet shank mushrooms, glistening as the precious rays caught their caps.

Not much grows during the Winter months, however the velvet shanks or flammulina velutipes are one of the few varieties of fungi to brave the ice and snow. The examples I found had caps which were approximately three to four centimeters in diameter, and had a dark brown stem which was about five centimeters long. The cap was almost flat and was a deep orange ochre colour fading to a pale yellow along the edges. I have added a picture of a mushroom which I cut and turned over to get a view of the gills, which are arranged in a wonderful complex pattern that only nature could create.

View of gill structure of the velvet shank or flammulina velutipes

My identification is not complete and is somewhat premature as I have not tested them for a spore print in order to obtain a positive identification; to that end the velvet shank or flammulina velutipes should leave a white spore print. Once satisfied with my identification I shall begin to collect and dry them for soups and experiment with them in the old reliable and warming stew.

Autun - Augustodunum Roman Theatre

View of the remains of the Roman theatre from the road

On the 23rd December we decided to venture outside the Franche-Comte region and made our way westwards towards Burgundy and the city of Autun. Crossing the Saone you are greeted by the flat Burgundian countryside, however once you pass the quaint city of Beaune the road meanders its way through Pommard and Volnay, and other familiar wine producing towns, the terrain slowly dominated by long sweeping hills covered in vines.

Before I set out for Autun I had some understanding of the towns significance, primarily becauce of the size of the theatre situated there, however I was not prepared for the extent and size of the this Gallo-Roman settlement. Nearby in Burgundy a number of sattelite towns were romanised such as Dijon, Nuits-St-Georges and Chalon-sur-Saone, but they do not appear to have had the same amount of sustained development during the Roman period.

View of the Roman gate from the river Arroux

Augustodunum was founded by the Emperor Augustus and replaced Bibracte, the capital town of the Aedui tribe. Bibracte was, by this time, a modernised but dated iron age hilltop fort settlement. which was situated about 15 miles to the west of Augustodunum. It had the unfortunate fate of being the site where Vercingetorix was nominated as commander of the Gallic forces in their war against the Roman army, which was under the command of Julius Caesar. This may have been a catylist for the founding of the new Roman grid based capital city with all the trimmings such as walls, gates, forum, thermae, theatre, amphitheatre and aquaducts for the Aedui at Augustodunum, and with it the imposition of an urban administrative and political center in the area. However, Bibracte may simply not have suited the Roman requirements to support their model of a "civilised" urban center and hence a new site was selected bording on and serviced by the Arroux river.

It is not simplistic to state that Augustodunum flourished because of an acceptance of Roman power by the Aedui. The Aedui had a long established alliance with Rome and this "bond of brotherhood" is referred to by Tacitus [Annals xi 25.2] and Julius Caesar [Bello Gallico i. 33.2]. The foundation of the Gallic cities in the early empire appears to have been an attempt to define the bounderies of the tribes and a number of these cities received Imperial patronage. Thus there is a distinct difference between the founding and subsequent development of the cities of Gallia Narbonnensis such as Nimes, Arles, Frejus, and Nice. This period of reorganisation in the north under Augustus resulted in the modest naming of cities such as Augustodurum [Bayeux], Augustobona [Troyes].

The development of Augustodunum may not have been swift and there is evidence that the city was developed throughout the 1st century and continued into the second century. In fact archeological evidence suggests that the theatre and amphitheatre may not have been completed until the reign of Vespasian. A possible terminus post quem dating for this building is based upon a bronze coin from the reign of Vespasian which was found in the theatre's structure. It is feasible to suggest that the city's development and exspansion may have been temporarily stalled during a Gallic revolt during the reign of Tibeius in 21 B.C. when an Aeduan named Iulius Sacrovir was stirring up dissent. One contributory factor for the revolt was the overwhelming Gallic dissatisfaction at the extortionate taxes levied by the Romans. Iulius Sacrovir's uprising was dealt with by the German legions and in his flight he was denied entry to Augustodunum. Shortly after Sacrovir chose his own fate. There are contradictory views asa top what extent the city was developed following the end of the 2nd century, and one treatise states that the dwellings and buildings in the city never filled the 6 kilometer walled defences due to the political and economic turmoil that existed in the 3rd century.

The Gallo Roman city of Augustodunum must have been well populated given its size, and the size of the theatre and amphitheatre complex. Scholars warn us that the existence of these large public buildings are not a reliable guide to city population but it seems wasteful to build such structures when they would not have been exploited to the full. From a brief walk around the city today and reading the available text upon the archeological surverys it is clear that there was more than one theatre and an ampitheatre in existance when the Augustodunum was in its hey day.

A fragment of mosaic pavement from the Musee Lapidaire, Autun

We did not get into the Musee Rolin where a number of good Roman mosaics that have been unearthed in Autun are kept. The collection includes fragments of a Neptune mosaic and a mosaic depicting a seated philospher. One theory suggests that the person depicted is Epicurios. During the Roman period Augustodunum became noted for its school of rhethoric and as a seat of learning. Thus the discovery of such a mosaic must not be too surprising. Given the obvious importance of this Roman city one can only imagine what discoveries lie in wait below the streets and buildings of Autun.

A corinthian capital from the Musee Lapidaire, Autun

Augustodunum is said to have embraced christianity earlier than most Roman cities, and certainly by the 3rd century there was a large christian community reported to be there. Some historians attribute this thriving of the Christian community at Augustodunum to Constantius Chlorus, the father of Constantine the Great, who was based in the West under the emperor Diocletion.

funerary stele of a young women embedded into the wall of a building

Many funerary stele are laid out in courtyard of the Musee Lapidaire at the Roman Church of St Nicholas, and some appear built into the walls of more modern structures in the town. The Musee Lapidaire was closed when we were there, however the gates were open to receive some new stones for their collection and we managed to wander in and take a few photographs. Within the small church there is a small collection of capitals and some sculpture, presumably from Autun itself as there was very little information relating to the artifacts. A number of mosaic fragments have also been preserved there.

A large gallo-roman necropolis, which was excavated in 2004, is situarted about 600 meters to the north east of the ramparts and some of the stele have made their way into this collection, which appears to be an overflow facility for the Musee Rolin. The necropolis had circa 48- tombs with 79 stele reported to have been excavated intact.

Funerary stele of a women holding a chalice and rod

The Roman theatre, like the one at Mandeure was built into a natural hillside, and consisted of three layers of seating or cavea. The diameter of the theatre is 148 meters making it one of the largest in the Roman world, with a potential capacity of 13,800 (there are higher and less conservativre estimates for the capacity of this structure in the tourist information). The theatre at Mandeure, which was built during the 2nd century faces West, and the theatre at Autun utilises a hilside facing east-north-east. From about 14:30, when I was there, it was almost fully shaded in its current state not receiving any light from the setting sun. The semi-circular orchestra area infront of the scenae is reported to have been reduced in size from 30 to 20 meters. To put this into perspective, the orchestra at Mandeure measures 14 metres.

A view looking south east across the media cava and remains of supports for summa cavea

It is clear from the remaining structures today that the media cavea and summa cavea ie. the second and third layers of seating were substantial and were supported on a series of 49 vaults so that the full height of the structure could be achieved. It appears that each of the cavea were divided by a series of 8 cunei giving access to the rows of seating. Beyond the summa cavea there was probably an arcaded and covered ambulatory or ambulorum. The end structures are largely in ruins but a series of six niches acted as supports or butresses can still be seen. There was a scene building but this no longer exists however, archeological excavations have recorded the existence of some structures below the soil surface which can be conected with a scene building.

A view looking south east towards the orchestra ima cavea and media cavea

Today trees planted around the perimeter of the theatre give some indication of the original shape and to some extent the size of the structure. The vomitoria to either side of the cavea are not as large as those in Mandeure probably because there was access available to the rear of the structure where none was possible in Mandeure.

A view looking north towards the remains of the media cavea and reconstructed ima cavea

Looking down from a tree onto the remains of the summa cavea, orchestra and scaena area

Augustodunum was probably the most western city of an economic group of Roman cities and tribal groupings, which appear to have thrived during the 1st and 2nd centuries; studies of carved and decorated stonework including capitals from Avenches (Aventicum), Besancon (Vesontio), Mandeure (Epamanduodorum), Nyon (Noiodunum), and a little later Augst (Augusta Raurica), share similarities which would suggest a possible common regional link. The reigns of Claudius, 41 - 57 A.D. and Vespasian, 70 - 79 A.D., brought stability and confidence to the region by elevating some Roman cities to the status of colonia, and granting latin rights including citizenship. The fact that these cities have monumental public buildings, some being the largest of their type in the empire, interests me. It is evident there was a concerted effort made to develop these provincial cities that were quite close to the Rhine and Danube borders. I hope future travels will bring me to visit the large Roman theatres and amphithatres at Augst, Avenches and Nyon and to understand a little more about the interaction between these cities during the Roman period.

Malahide Estuary - A Winter sunset

Gislebertus and the story of the three Magi

Detail from a carved capital from the Cathedral of St Lazare at Autun

The Cathedral of St Lazare at Autun sets itself apart from other early 12th Century Romanesque churches primarily because of the extraordinary sculpture and reliefs carved on the capitals and tympanum over the west door. This decorative work was carried out between 1125 and 1135. In a margin bar of the tympanum below the feet of the carved image of Christ enthroned at the last judgment a very public and unique Latin inscription has been carved: "GISLEBERTVS hOC FECiT" , which translated means Gislebertus made this.

This inscription, often interpreted in modern terms as a signature, is the basis for one of the most enduring mysteries in the history of art. Sculpture executed at the Abbey of Cluny and at the Cathedral at Vezelay has been linked stylistically to the carvings executed at Autun. If we are to believe it is a signature of sorts, the obvious assumption is that the reliefs at the Cathedral at Autun are the work of a highly celebrated artist and sculptor. Assumptions are at their weakest especially when there is little or no evidence to support them, and questions remain unanswered. Who was Gislebertus? A monk or an enlightened artist, or both. Was Gislebertus the sculptor responsible for these sculptures and in particular the carvings at Autun? Was Gislebertus a patron of the church or a nobleman who commissioned works such as this? Is the inscription contemporary with the production of the tympanum panel? Was the inscription executed by Gislebertus himself? Would a mere artisan sculptor have been allowed to carve an inscription in such a prominent and visible place?

In the last 150 years a number of scholarly works have attempted to tease out theories based upon a combination of assessments and examinations of the social history and orders of Burgundy during the 12th Century, nomenclature, and stylistic comparisons and interpretations. Unfortunately, time has eroded the flesh, blood and memory of Gislebertus, and the inscription remains the only relic of his existence. Ironically, down through the years the Cathedral of St Lazare at Autun is noted for a number of famous relics of celebrated saints which were at first undisputed and then disputed.

It is conceivable that the mystery of Gislebertus will never be solved, but the carvings remain as a group and individually, some of the most outstanding and imaginative interpretations of biblical scenes from the entire medieval era. As we approach the 6th January I set out below images of the carved capitals depicting the story of the Magi.

Angel appearing to the three Magi and the star above their heads

The Magi summoned before Herod

The adoration of the Magi

The flight into Egypt

Cerfeuil tubereux - a vegetable wonder!

In our last trip to France we had a number of little excursions, and true to form I sought out and explored the local and covered markets that exist in most French towns. The main difference between global and national supermarket chains and the local markets is that you stand some chance of discovering local foods, traditions preserved, and presented for sale by indigenous bakers, butchers and farmers.

Visiting Dole was an interesting experience and I was not sure what I would find there. Situated on the border of Franche Comte and the Burgoyne, I was expecting a strange mix of the regions - a crossroads perhaps. The butchers had a strong Burgundian influence selling stuffed snails, andouillettes, boudin noir, and poultry from Bresse, but they also sold the smoked ham and saucise de Morteau from Franche Comte.

Just when I thought I had brushed the dirt off most of the tubers and edible roots known to mankind, I was pleasantly surprised to find a few baskets of cerfeuil tubereux, sorted into batches of small, medium, and large sizes. The largest of the cerfeuil tubereux were about 4 inches long and perhaps 1.5 inches wide. Obviously the imperial system of measurement and weight should be applied to when referring to tubers.

Corrine engaged the lady at the stall in conversation, as she was keen to try a number of the Jerusalem artichokes and other tubers to taste to compare them. Having demonstrated genuine interest, the lady mentioned that she was one of the only producers of cerfeuil tubereux left in France, and that the cerfeuil tubereux were not grown outside the region around Dole. Her enterprise was not a large scale affair, however she was obviously proud of her humble stall and produce.

The cerfeuil tubereux is a very ordinary looking small root vegetable, and you would pass it by without a second glance or thought; it looks like a dirty little parsnip and is not readily presentable. Even carrots can be arranged in attractive bunches, but the cerfeuil tubereux are not big and are at their best just thrown together in a wicker basket. Corrine bought a bag, which managed to carry about 16 ounces of cerfeuil tubereux. In presenting the paper bag and wishing us all the very best, the lady suggested we might boil them for a few minutes and they should be fine.

Upon our return home I lazily scrubbed the cerfeuil tubereux and plunged them into a pot of boiling water, cooking them for about five minutes. I was not fussy about the time, and having drained them I decided to put them into the oven with a small libation of olive oil and a little salt. Don't ask me why I did this, but it just seemed like the right thing to do as I was cooking a few varieties of Jerusalem artichokes in a similar manner.

Once taken from the oven and plated we gazed at them for a moment before tucking in. Breaking through the skin you are faced with a flesh that is not dissimilar to that of a parsnip, but once you taste this little root you are overcome with a sweet nourishing flavour comparable to sweet chestnuts. They were devoured with great relish without any accompaniment. I was immediately struck by how these little gems could have failed to crawl their way onto the foodie radar. In the early grips of an addiction we acquired another little bag of them and had them served with roasted shoulder of wild boar, roasted garlic and haricots; a rich, robust and luxurious combination of flavours.

It is good to be surprised once in a while in this manner; finding something unusual in a market in its raw and dirty form, taking it home and cooking it. The moment of discovery and experience bears no comparison to picking an unknown dish from a menu in a restaurant. I honestly hope we can buy cerfeuil tubereux in Dublin some time in the future at a reasonable price, but given its lack of beauty and a name that reminds one of a non-fatal, but lingering, thyroid condition that may not be likely in the near future!

Christmas Day in the Haut Doubs at Courvieres

Christmas Eve was a lavish feast with a meal prepared and cooked by Patricia, which included many courses and delights; from baked snails, smoked salmon, caviar blini, foie gras served with with sel guerand and fig jam, baked coquille st jaque tartlets, all served before a main course of kangaroo steak. Just when I thought I might be approaching the final hurdle an extensive cheese board was placed at the table which was finally followed by the traditional desert of buche de noel.

As we chatted over the desert and coffee, it was pointed out to me that in some parts of France it remains a tradition to have thirteen deserts to complete the Christmas meal. This was said to be in honour of the twelve Apostles and Jesus at the last supper. The connection with Christmas was lost on me. However, half way through the story it wasplain to see, that although this was a tradition of the Midi, it was also in practice in Besancon as I was well on my way to completing this most noble and gourmand of traditions.

A view of Courvieres

Christmas Day dawned bright and cheerful and after a light breakfast we made our way up to the Haut Doubs. Most of the heavy snow from the week before had disappeared, but vast patches and fields of snow still lay on the ground where the shallow angle of the sun's rays could not reach. Courvieres was very different in the bright sunlight, and as my body was screaming out for activity, I went for a short walk with Corrine. Despite the bright sunshine it was bitterly cold, but the afternoon sunlight brought a beautiful rich colouring to the high altitude landscape.

Winter landscape around Courvieres

Buzzards glided on the stiff cold breeze allowing them to hold an almost stationary gliding pattern above a small hill crest as they kept a close eye on the fields below them. The fields were bare apart from the obvious activity of the indigenous rodent population whose digging could be seen everywhere. Cattle are indoors in sheds at this time of year and the fields lack their customary presence. A cunning few cows had lured their owner into a false sence of security and mounted a covert operation. From a discreet distance I noticed they had managed to unlock their barn door and were making tentative preparations to make a run for it. I am a fan of these guys and did not interfere with their plans. I have added a photograph below of one of these great gentle Montbeliard cows whose milk is used to produce the famous Comte and Mont D'Or cheese, and which my bag was laden down with a few short days later.

Montbeliard cows and they way they might look at you

The landscape remained silent apart from the freezing wind that hurt my ears, and the idyllic silence was only momentarily broken by the a singular piece of modernity that had managed to gain access this place as the TGV shot across the plateau en route from Paris to a not so distant Lausanne. We slowly made our way back to the farmhouse of Corrine's grandmother, where friends and family had gathered, for a seasonal celebratory splash of a tasty cremant du Jura, and another chance to savour a slice or two of buche de noel, followed by coffee and papillottes (praline chocolates wrapped in bright foil). A sweet end to a refreshing day.

Winter landscapes of Franche Comte and the Haut Doubs

Amsterdam: Patisserie Holtkamp, Sinterklass and Zwart Piet

For the last seven years I have been visiting Amsterdam during the second week in November and every year I was delegated the task of acquiring a birthday cake. This proved to be more difficult than one might have thought and I would spend an afternoon walking around Amsterdam trying to find cake shops and patisseries who might produce a cake to order and furthermore ice birthday greetings on the cake to the lucky individual involved. As far as I could discern there was no tradition of giving or presenting a birthday cake which also meant that buying birthday candles was a near impossibility.


From year to year various shops would have closed, and or not be prepared to produce a cake. Two years ago I happened upon a patisserie called Holtkamp at 15 Vijzelgracht. The smooth channeled lines of the wooden shopfront and Art Deco leaded glass panels are a stylish introduction into a decadent world. Painted swirls of stylised patterns repeated around the interior of the small shop complete the decor, and within that small space were showcased a selection of the most luxurious and beautifully prepared cakes, pastries and tarts.


In the past most cities would have had their celebrated patisseries, being the center of people's attention for any special occasion. Many of these patisseries present their specialities produced to a very high standard, which are quite particular to them and their city, and only imitated elsewhere. Holtkamp stands out as one such patisserie in Amsterdam producing cakes and other confections that you might only find in Holland or indeed Amsterdam.


Among the cakes and tarts on display are the pastries such as the amandal boterstaaf, which is a rich glazed butter pastry roll with a sweet almond paste centre. Other cake shops sell a variation which is called speculaas-staaf and has whole almonds dotted in line on top of the pastry.


I generally visit Amsterdam in November at a time when the arrival of SinterKlaas and Zwart Piet by steamboat into the city is celebrated. This festival takes place in mid November and is celebrated throughout Holland, Flanders and parts of Alsace. For the first time visitor to Holland there is something of a culture shock when you see the locals blackening their faces, wearing read lipstick, moorish costume, and wearing afro-wigs, wandering about the streets playing music and handing out sweets.


The tradition is that SinterKlaas [Saint Nicholas] and his assistant Zwart Piet [Black Peter] arrive from Spain to deliver gifts to all the young children who have been good in the past year, on the eve of the feast of Sinterklaas on the 6th December. In the weeks leading up to eve of Sinterklaas, children traditionally left a carrot by the chimney for Sinterklaas' horse. If the children were good Zwart Piet would climb down the chimney and leave a chocolate letter, the first letter of the child's name, a marzipan animal or speculas-staff. If the children were bad Zwart Piet would leave a pile of sticks or an old shoe - a possible signal that if behaviour did not improve these implements might come into play!!


December is upon us and I am travelling to Spain tomorrow to do a little work, and thereafter spending Christmas in France. Little traditions such as the festivities surrounding Zwart Piet and Sinterklaas, the marzipan sweets and almond cakes in the low countries make these celebrations special, are unique to these regions and come as a complete surprise to me. It has been a few years since I was in Spain during December, and I look forward to tasting their seasonal turron, and other sweets and cakes. While I have never spent Christmas in France, I am likewise looking forward to experiencing their traditions first hand and possibly savouring a slice of bouche de noel.

Four safe Mediterranean ports; June, July August and Mahon

Fenix reaching at 11 knots boat speed in 22 knots wind towards Menorca

Having caught my flight from Rome to Sardinia, I was collected at Olbia by Jonna, the Swedish chef, and ferried up to Porto Cervo. During the Summer months this glamorous village on the north east corner of Sardinia is full of fashionable and wealthy tourists. However, during early November it is all but deserted. Even the port, and the nearby Cala de Volpe, were practically empty; all the big yachts and motor yachts having moved on to winter elsewhere.

We set out early in morning departing Porto Cervo and making our way up through the islands emerging out into the Straits of Bonafacio. For the remainder of the day, with Corsica not too distant on our starboard side we sailed west towards Isola Asinara, passing this the furthest north western point of Sardinia just after midnight.

After sunrise the wind began to build again and swing around into the north west. This certainly made the passage quicker but the sea was beginning to become lumpy. The forecast was also changing rapidly and the detailed projected forecasts left us with a bit of a dilemma, as we were due to meet a strong south westerly wind around midnight. The wind was forecasted to rise to 35 knots, and this would have made our passage from Menorca to Mallorca very uncomfortable and the added possibility of damage would have been unavoidable.

A view of Mahon approaching Pinto Island

We quickly scanned the charts for a safe haven and decided to make our way to the port of Mahon on the south east corner of Menorca. I had learned about Mahon and the historical significance of this safe natural harbour during the 18th and 19th centuries over the years, but had never actually entered the harbour or landed on Menorca. In the last few years I had been reading the Aubrey Maturin series of novels written by Patrick O'Brian, and had often wondered what the port was like; the Balearic islands and in particular Mahon feature in a number of the novels. It has been difficult to visualise this port and its unique ability to have a large number of line of battle ships and smaller vessels at anchor.

Pinto island and part of the naval dockyard in port Mahon

The house where Admiral Lord Collingwood based himself following the battle of Trafalgar

We arrived at the entrance to Mahon around midnight. The dark menacing shores did not seem as close as they actually were, but the entrance lights were well positioned and we easily worked our way into the narrow port, which is almost three nautical miles long. We passed a number of small bays before passing Quarantine Island on our starboard side, and shortly after we were at anchor. The night and next day proved to be as windy as forecasted and Fenix swung around as the gusts met her after descending the cliff and accelerating along the water. Outside the narrow entrance to the port the agitated sea was crashing against the rocks and we knew we had made the right decision.

A view across the terracing to the old town of Mahon

A day ashore meant that I could explore and wander about the town, which is situated at the top of the port on an escarpment that runs along the full length of the harbour. From the modern ferry terminal, Mahon can still be accessed by the pigtail steps. A narrow network of streets linking small squares are a feature of the town as are the distinctive English sash windows. Some of the largest buildings in the town are of course the churches and they dominate the squares and punctuate the skyline.

A distinctive door knocker in the old town of Mahon

local confectionery

The fish market at the top of the pigtail steps built in 1927

Unfortunately the fish market was not open in the time we were in Mahon and it would have been interesting to get into this purpose built market and view the local catch. Given the weather there was not going to be much of a catch to view so we contented ourselves with peering in through the gates.

The English took possession of Port Mahon in the early 18th century and thereby obtained one of the most sought after harbours in the entire Mediterranean. From this safe haven the Royal Navy could hold up, reprovision, and manage blockades and attacks throughout the Mediterranean. Admiral Lord Collingwood assumed the leadership of the Mediterranean fleet upon the death of Nelson at the battle of Trafalgar and remained in the Mediterranean, was based at Mahon until his departure on the Ville de Paris on the 3rd March 1810. Shortly after leaving Mahon he died at sea.

Under British control an extensive complex of dockyards and wharfs were built which still exist today. Fortifications were strenghtened at the entrance of Port Mahon; the construction of a series of five martello towers protecting the entrance, along with other defences on either shore just inside the entrance, made the port impregnable rendering a naval attack on Mahon virtually impossible.

Martello towers at the entrance of the port of Mahon

We were due in Palma da Mallorca on the 5th for works to be caried out in the modern and busy yard there. On the morning of the 3rd November we slowly worked out way out of Port Mahon passing the Isabella fortress and martello towers as we went. By sunset we were approaching Isla de L'Aire and thunder storms illuminated black clouds on the horizon. Rain was not far off and a number of showers came and went through the night as we approached the east coast of Mallorca.

Lighthouse on Isla de L'Aire just after sunset

Port Mahon was an invaluable port to the English during the Napoleonic period and quickly earned the the popular praise that there were only four safe ports in the Mediterranean; June, July, August and Mahon. Without doubt we were very happy to exploit the sheltered anchorage just below Collingwood's House, where the Ville de Paris was anchored once upon a time.