****aladière
Provençal onion pie



The ****aladière is a substantial dish of bread dough spread with onions,
anchovies, black olives, and sometimes tomatoes, baked in the oven on large
heavy baking trays and sold by the slice in bakers' shops or straight from
the baking trays by street vendors. It is not so common nowadays as it was
before the war, when it could be bought hot from the oven in the early
morning at every street corner in the old quarters of Marseille and Toulon.
Not so long ago, however, having spotted some in a bakery in Avignon, I went
in and asked for un tranche de ****aladière. The shopkeeper did not know
what I meant. "What, then, is that?" I asked. "Ça, Madame, c'est du pizza
provençal" was the surprising reply. Odd how that Neapolitan pizza has
captured people's imaginations, even in Provence, where they have their own
traditional version of it, the great difference being that the Provençal
variety is made without the top dressing of chewy cheese characteristic of
the Neapolitan pizza. In fact, the Provençal one more nearly resembles the
traditional Roman pizza, and it is, I suppose, possible that it was
introduced by Roman cooks during the reign of the popes in Avignon.



Truthfully it must be admitted that both the Italian pizza and the Provençal
****aladière lie somewhat heavy upon the stomach, because of the bread dough
which is the basis. The version made with pastry which is sometimes served
in restaurants and private houses and may be bought ready made at
patisseries is often an improvement. It is the filling which, if you happen
to like the aromatic mixture of onions, olive oil, anchovies, and olives, is
important. The following recipe makes a splendid first course at luncheon,
so long as it is followed by something not to substantial-a fine grilled
fish, for instance, or a little best end of neck of lamb nicely roasted.



Elizabeth David, French Provincial Cooking (1960)


--
Bob, yum
http://www.kanyak.com

"Opinicus" > wrote in message
...
> ****aladière
> Provençal onion pie
>
>
>
> The ****aladière is a substantial dish of bread dough spread with onions,
> anchovies, black olives, and sometimes tomatoes, baked in the oven on
> large heavy baking trays and sold by the slice in bakers' shops or
> straight from the baking trays by street vendors. It is not so common
> nowadays as it was before the war, when it could be bought hot from the
> oven in the early morning at every street corner in the old quarters of
> Marseille and Toulon. Not so long ago, however, having spotted some in a
> bakery in Avignon, I went in and asked for un tranche de ****aladière. The
> shopkeeper did not know what I meant. "What, then, is that?" I asked. "Ça,
> Madame, c'est du pizza provençal" was the surprising reply. Odd how that
> Neapolitan pizza has captured people's imaginations, even in Provence,
> where they have their own traditional version of it, the great difference
> being that the Provençal variety is made without the top dressing of chewy
> cheese characteristic of the Neapolitan pizza. In fact, the Provençal one
> more nearly resembles the traditional Roman pizza, and it is, I suppose,
> possible that it was introduced by Roman cooks during the reign of the
> popes in Avignon.
>
>
>
> Truthfully it must be admitted that both the Italian pizza and the
> Provençal ****aladière lie somewhat heavy upon the stomach, because of the
> bread dough which is the basis. The version made with pastry which is
> sometimes served in restaurants and private houses and may be bought ready
> made at patisseries is often an improvement. It is the filling which, if
> you happen to like the aromatic mixture of onions, olive oil, anchovies,
> and olives, is important. The following recipe makes a splendid first
> course at luncheon, so long as it is followed by something not to
> substantial-a fine grilled fish, for instance, or a little best end of
> neck of lamb nicely roasted.
>
>
>
> Elizabeth David, French Provincial Cooking (1960)
>
>
We have here (in Waco, not exactly the Athens of the culinary world,
although certainly ranked high among world locales favored by religious
fanatics, cults, schisms and cisms, 2 RCatholic parishes which draw their
members from the large Mexican American community. Both bring priests from
a Franciscan Seminary in Palma, Majorca, mostly young men of Catalan
ethnicity. Along with menu differences, the young priests have a modest
problem "converting" to the archaic brand of Spanish spoken hereabouts.
Years ago, I became friends with a long time pastor at one parish, a grand
cook, who introduced me to the Catalan and Balearic version of ****aladiere
(piece of salad? pizza del lado?), semi-deep dish, no tomato sauce but
maybe a piece of two of tomato, vegetables like eggplant and zucchini, and
"greens", mustard or spinach, rather than the more USAan collards and turnip
tops, dressed with some of the stronger flavored "dish in itself" Spanish
olive oil, cured olives, etc. (and no cheese).

I've always accepted that all around the Levant and Mediterranean littoral,
man has used all that barely leaven flat or nearly so bread with far greeter
ingenuity that the Scots ever were able to lend to oat cakes. If ever there
was evidence that food travels better than folks, a trip to the Indian
subcontinent where the locals likewise work magic in, within and atop thin
breads.

Boorish lout of an Estramaduran Cortez may have been, but I bet he took to
tacos...

TMO

> I've always accepted that all around the Levant and Mediterranean
> littoral, man has used all that barely leaven flat or nearly so
> bread with far greeter ingenuity that the Scots ever were able to
> lend to oat cakes. If ever there was evidence that food travels
> better than folks, a trip to the Indian subcontinent where the
> locals likewise work magic in, within and atop thin breads.

True, but why didn't the idea travel to northern Europe? There seems
no obvious technological, resource or ideological barrier that would
have made cooking flatbread with a filling impossible north of Lyon.

============== j-c ====== @ ====== purr . demon . co . uk ==============
Jack Campin: 11 Third St, Newtongrange EH22 4PU, Scotland | tel 0131 660 4760
<http://www.purr.demon.co.uk/jack/> for CD-ROMs and free | fax 0870 0554 975
stuff: Scottish music, food intolerance, & Mac logic fonts | mob 07800 739 557

"Jack Campin - bogus address" > wrote in message
...
>> I've always accepted that all around the Levant and Mediterranean
>> littoral, man has used all that barely leaven flat or nearly so
>> bread with far greeter ingenuity that the Scots ever were able to
>> lend to oat cakes. If ever there was evidence that food travels
>> better than folks, a trip to the Indian subcontinent where the
>> locals likewise work magic in, within and atop thin breads.
>
> True, but why didn't the idea travel to northern Europe? There seems
> no obvious technological, resource or ideological barrier that would
> have made cooking flatbread with a filling impossible north of Lyon.
>

,,,,All those sheep's paunches sitting around waiting to be stuffed left no
time for filling/topping bread....

I suspect that climate had something to do with eat, that holding and
consuming a topped or filled bread is a warm weather pastime, unworkable in
dank, chill Northern climes, where the locals were forced to dine while
crouch huddled beneath stone walls to keep their biscuits warm (and to keep
the rain off...)

Think of the advantages available to the Scots. Didn't even have to collect
water from a nearby burn to mix their oat cakes. Simply cup one's hands and
wait a moment for rain to fall...

"TMOliver" > wrote in message

> I suspect that climate had something to do with eat, that holding and
> consuming a topped or filled bread is a warm weather pastime, unworkable
> in dank, chill Northern climes, where the locals were forced to dine while
> crouch huddled beneath stone walls to keep their biscuits warm (and to
> keep the rain off...)

> Think of the advantages available to the Scots. Didn't even have to
> collect water from a nearby burn to mix their oat cakes. Simply cup one's
> hands and wait a moment for rain to fall...

I supposed trying to eat a taco in the rain could dampen
one's--uh--enthusiasm?

Among other things...

--
Bob
http://www.kanyak.com

While in Nice, France on a Monday morning, I strolled the antique
market. The concierge of my hotel took pity on me because I was
missing the flower market which take place every other day in the same
location.

As I came to the 'end' of the stalls, a short left turn took me into a
bakery and there I had my first piece of ****aladière. I had seen
Julia Child make it on an occassion. But this was Nice, home of the
****aladière. And salad Nicoise. (I ate one of those, too). Anyway,
the slice had to be heated in the microwave. It was a trifle doughy,
and lacking in great flavors, so why this food item is held in high
esteem is beyond me.

The coffee bean shop, actually a coffee roaster, across the alley from
the bakery had some oregano. After using it, I have come to understand
the reason that French Provencoise spices are held in high esteem,
however.

I had the socca there, too, and admit I would love more, but it is
walking around food best made in a restaurant/stall setting.

> wrote

> ****aladière. And salad Nicoise. (I ate one of those, too). Anyway,
> the slice had to be heated in the microwave. It was a trifle doughy,
> and lacking in great flavors, so why this food item is held in high
> esteem is beyond me.

You got a bad batch. And any time I see something allegedly edible that's
about to be handed to me being microwaved, I take "French leave", as it
were.

I've just finished working my way through Rick Stein's "French Odyssey".
Despite his cheery assurances at the end that French cuisine is alive and
kicking, I have my doubts.

--
Bob
http://www.kanyak.com

Filled.
I would guess the many poverty flatbreads of the British isles must have
been topped at times with onions and perhaps cheese, but the developmental
effort seems to have moved toward savory pies.
Another structural reason is that the UK/Ireland flatbreads are generally
griddle cakes rather than oven cakes.
Northern Europe as a whole is not devoid of topped and filled flatbreads --
bialy come to mind, there is an Alsatian onion bread, etc.


--
-Mark H. Zanger
author, The American History Cookbook, The American Ethnic Cookbook for
Students
www.ethnicook.com
www.historycook.com


"Jack Campin - bogus address" > wrote in message
...
>> I've always accepted that all around the Levant and Mediterranean
>> littoral, man has used all that barely leaven flat or nearly so
>> bread with far greeter ingenuity that the Scots ever were able to
>> lend to oat cakes. If ever there was evidence that food travels
>> better than folks, a trip to the Indian subcontinent where the
>> locals likewise work magic in, within and atop thin breads.
>
> True, but why didn't the idea travel to northern Europe? There seems
> no obvious technological, resource or ideological barrier that would
> have made cooking flatbread with a filling impossible north of Lyon.
>
> ============== j-c ====== @ ====== purr . demon . co . uk
> ==============
> Jack Campin: 11 Third St, Newtongrange EH22 4PU, Scotland | tel 0131 660
> 4760
> <http://www.purr.demon.co.uk/jack/> for CD-ROMs and free | fax 0870 0554
> 975
> stuff: Scottish music, food intolerance, & Mac logic fonts | mob 07800 739
> 557

"Opinicus" > wrote ...
> > wrote
>
>> ****aladière. And salad Nicoise. (I ate one of those, too). Anyway,
>> the slice had to be heated in the microwave. It was a trifle doughy,
>> and lacking in great flavors, so why this food item is held in high
>> esteem is beyond me.

Even the British had the good sense and manners to cook Jeanner d'Arc over
an open fire. That the modern French would resort to a microwave forms a
disgusting commentary on "The Fall of France".
>
> You got a bad batch. And any time I see something allegedly edible that's
> about to be handed to me being microwaved, I take "French leave", as it
> were.

Chorus of "Amens" from my back bench!
>
> I've just finished working my way through Rick Stein's "French Odyssey".
> Despite his cheery assurances at the end that French cuisine is alive and
> kicking, I have my doubts.
>

On our last visit, one could certainly dine well for 150 Euros or so, but
the back street cafes in which once, long ago, for a few francs one could
imagine oneself to have found Jesus seemed almost impossible to find. Now
we have too many "chefs" and "showplaces" in lieu of good cafes and sound
brasseries. The best one of those I've been in in recent years was in
Chicago, not a Frenchiefied venue.

I wish I could remember the name of the little cafe in Nice, a few doors
back from the quai, 1963 or so, where I discovered the fixed price all day
menu, that first day a clear shellfish soup followed by jugged hare, bread,
a little endive with oil and vinegar, and a small piece of apricot tart.
Having been at sea for a while, I was able to dine three times in the same
day (and would have gone back again, but the joint closed about 10PM. The
old lady laughed when I arrived for the third go-round (and gave me a demi
to drink with it).

That and an evening meal with my wife and young daughters in an old
hotel-former convent in Arras about 1983 remain French waypoints along
life's dining highway.

TMO