Sylvie Bigar, author of Cassoulet Confessions: Food, France, Family, and the Stew That Saved My Soul, Talks to Provence WineZine

Just in time for Cassoulet Day on January 9, Susan Manfull, founder/editor of Provence WineZine (PWZ), and David Scott Allen, who writes the “Provence Pairings: Wine with Food” column for PWZ and who is the founder/editor of Cocoa & Lavender, had the opportunity to sit down with Sylvie Bigar, Swiss-French food and travel writer, to talk about her new book, Cassoulet Confessions.

“What is cassoulet?” You would be forgiven if you don’t know or if you thought it was simply a popular regional stew conceived in the South of France. Visions of a complex concoction may come to mind: beans, ham hocks, pork rinds, garlic pork sausage, more garlic, duck fat, duck confit. Maybe even a partridge, a goose, or some mutton might find its way into the cassole, a terracotta pot in which the rich stew is traditionally cooked over the course of several days.

Twenty years before our foray into making a cassoulet ourselves, my family and I first made the dish’s acquaintance while traveling in the Occitania region of southwestern France.  We had rented a barge to tool along the Canal du Midi, stopping in Toulouse, Castelnaudary, and Carcassonne, each of which claims to have the authentic recipe for cassoulet.  There, we quickly learned that there are variations of this legendary dish (some of which I liked better than others) and, as would be expected in France, heated debates over the real ingredients.

Several years ago, when David, my husband Towny, and I decided to make a cassoulet, we poured over all the classic French cookbooks we had in our cookbook collections – think Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Larousse Gastronomique, The Escoffier Cookbook, Paula Wolfert’s Cooking in Southwest France– and confirmed that there are as many variations on that concoction of ingredients as there are cookbook writers.  More on our culinary challenges in making this famous dish below but suffice to say here, we settled for what we thought would be good if not entirely authentic.

Authentic? By the end of Sylvie’s charming book, you will have elevated your understanding of the definition of cassoulet to something far more metaphysical. And you’ll be madly recording your shopping list so you, too, can make a pot of cassoulet.

Cassoulet Confessions is not a cookbook. Yes, there are some recipes from the three sacred homes of cassoulet as well as several recipes from Sylvie’s own files, one of which my husband made over the past few days, and we all agreed was the best version of this stew that we have ever made.  As the title reveals, this book is about the author’s journey — how unwrapping the layers of cultural history of this fabled dish helped her to unravel her own very personal story, also somewhat fabled. Neither this legendary pot of beans nor Sylvie’s family were what they seemed.

It all began for Sylvie about ten years ago with a seemingly unremarkable assignment (for a food and travel writer) to fly from New York to the South of France to write an article about cassoulet.

I asked Sylvie if she could take us back to that first taste of cassoulet in Carcassonne.

Anyone who has traveled to France knows that the French take food very seriously. Our family has attended many ceremonious events for various foods. Truffles come to mind. My husband and I have attended “The Mass for the Truffles” in Richerenches, a very tiny village in the South of France where the annual blessing, auction, and feast of the black truffle is held. After the church service, members of the Fraternal Order of the Black Diamond and of Gastronomy —  donned in long black robes, gold-colored sashes draped over their shoulders, and broad-rimmed black hats atop their heads — parade to the main square, carrying baskets of truffles and holding banners identifying their fraternal order.

Great pomp and circumstance surrounds food. Even at an ordinary meal, the entire conversation may be dominated by food. After one of our many dinners with good friends Pierre and Muriel, our daughter asked us why the French talk so much about food.

Sylvie understood this obsession because she grew up in Geneva and took frequent trips to Paris and Lyon, culinary capitals of the world. Yet, clearly, she wasn’t expecting this level of formality upon her arrival. But such is the world of food in France.

As she explained, that first bite had an impact on Sylvie.  I asked her if she was immediately hooked on cassoulet.

Something about that first bite tapped into a reservoir of personal history.  Sylvie eventually made connections that would extend far beyond the cassoulet.  When you read the book, you will learn about the power of food can have in unlocking memories stored from childhood. Why did that first bite of cassoulet transport Sylvie back to her childhood in Geneva? So as not to spoil the story, we won’t discuss what those connections are but I did ask her to explain how she made those connections.

Sharing food in France

It is impossible to explain to someone who has not traveled to France just how important food is to the people of France. Hours are spent at the table. Today, such extravagance may be limited to special occasions or Sunday dinners but, for certain, the “Gastronomic Meal of the French” is a time-honored tradition in France.  In 2010, UNESCO recognized how integral that meal is to French culture and added the “Gastronomic Meal of France” to the list of the “Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.”

The spirit of Cassoulet

Even before we met Sylvie we began to understand that there is a spirit of cassoulet that transcends the meal itself. There was some wiggle room in defining it.

In 1966, the recipe for cassoulet was codified by the États Généraux de la Gastronomie. To be called cassoulet, a stew must consist of at least 30 percent pork, mutton or preserved duck or goose (or a combination of the three elements), and 70 percent white beans and stock, fresh pork rinds, herbs and flavorings. By writing the mandate this way, all three towns could continue to claim authenticity.

There were other issues to debate — tomatoes and breadcrumbs — but we were feeling confident even though making this dish in southwestern United States would be quite different than making it in southwestern France. Where would we find a partridge? Pork rind? Tarbais beans? What would we cook it in? How many days do we need to cook this pot of beans? In addition, David has an allergy to one of the major ingredients.

David consulted Nicole and John Bojanowski, a Franco-American couple who own Le Clos du Gravillas, a winery in the Languedoc wine region, where Castelnaudary and Carcassonne lie. The couple happened to be visiting Tucson. Nicole’s advice assuaged many of David’s concerns about making an authentic cassoulet.

Cooking Cassoulet

We talked about some of the details entailed in cooking one’s cassoulet. Most importantly, what do you cook it in? Sylvie explained why clay pots– called cassoles — were the perfect vessels but not essential to producing an impressive cassoulet. I mentioned that my husband was, at that moment, cooking our cassoulet…in a metal pot.

We also talked about Sylvie’s preferred wines to accompany her cassoulet. She explained that, not being a wine expert, she tends to abide by the philosophy that choosing a wine produced in the same region as the dish is always good.  She mentioned Madiran wines, made mainly from the Tannat grape variety. Lots of structure in these wines, good acidity and definitely tannins. These wines can stand up to the richness of cassoulet.

Other wines to consider include hearty reds from Minervois, Corbières, and Cahors. For the Tucson dinner with David, Mark, and Towny, we chose an old vine Carignan produced by John and Nicole’s winery in Minervois which was an excellent partner.  More recently, we have selected wines from the southern Rhône, also excellent choices.

Pour résumer

In summing up, Sylvie’s rather unremarkable assignment to write an article about the history of cassoulet was a gift. Sylvie recognized this gift, but it took ten years to fully appreciate it. If you haven’t read the book, you may not want to watch the final video.

Sylvie Bigar’s pocketbook-size book is packed with interesting history and cultural information about cassoulet and the characters whose lives revolve around it.  Intertwined with her usual food and travel writing, Sylvie includes very personal discoveries that ultimately led her to a deeper understanding about herself. The book is beautifully printed using a typeface originally commissioned by Louis the 14th, otherwise known as the Sun King, the very popular King who introduced a golden age of art and literature in France.

Notes:

To find out more about the Special Edition “Cassoulet Confessions” Cassole from Clay Coyote… https://www.claycoyote.com/product/cassoulet-confessions-cassole/

The big reveal…