Vegetables from the Garden...and Motives

by Libby

Clara chopped the ends off the fresh carrots and watched Peter toss the tiny new potatoes into boiling water. They’d have a simple dinner tonight of vegetables from the garden with herbs and sweet butter. It was one of their favourite meals in late summer. (The Brutal Telling, Kindle p.349)

The striking thing about this meal, apart from the garden vegetables, was the conversation between Clara and Peter. But particularly the one that was playing out in Peter's head. He is deliberating over the possible responses he can give to Clara, after she has sought his advice. And she waits for a response with increasing frustration. In one incisive paragraph we get the idea, and know the feeling!

Peter took another slice of baguette, soft on the inside with a crispy crust. He smeared the butter to the edges, covering every millimetre, evenly. Methodically. Watching him Clara felt she’d surely scream or explode, or at the very least grab the fucking baguette and toss it until it was a grease stain on the wall. (The Brutal Telling, Kindle p.350)

Peter questions his own motives for what he wants to say to Clara. His eventual cryptic response leaves us with little doubt. This was a jaw-dropping passage! 

What should he tell her? To forget it? That what Fortin said wasn’t that bad? Certainly not worth risking her career. Just let it go. Besides, saying something almost certainly wouldn’t change Fortin’s mind about gays, and might just turn him against Clara. And this wasn’t some tiny show Fortin was giving her. This was everything Clara had dreamed of. Every artist dreamed of. Everyone from the art world would be there. Clara’s career would be made. Should he tell her to let it go, or tell Clara she had to speak to Fortin? For Gabri and Olivier and all their gay friends. But mostly for herself. But if she did that Fortin might get angry, might very well cancel her show. 

Peter dug the tip of the knife into a hole in the bread to get the butter out. He knew what he wanted to say, but he didn’t know if he’d be saying it for his sake, or for Clara’s. ‘Well?’ she asked, and heard the impatience in her voice. ‘Well?’ she asked more softly. ‘What do you think?’ ‘What do you think?’ Clara searched his face. ‘I think I should just let it go. If he says it again maybe then I’ll say something. It’s a stressful time for all of us.’ ‘I’m sure you’re right.’ Clara looked down at her uneaten plate. She’d heard the hesitation in Peter’s voice. Still, he wasn’t the one risking everything. (The Brutal Telling, Kindle p.351)

Clara recognises at a moral level exactly what Peter is implying in his, 'I'm sure you're right' response. His duplicitous appeal to her moral sense, can have no other outcome. She does speak with Fortin.

The Brutal Telling leaves no doubt as to the underlying motives for Peter's behaviour. While he 'loves' Clara, he just can't get past himself. He needs to be the successful artist, and he needs Clara to be his emotional prop, his comfort, as he pursues his art. But his artistic expression has reached a dead end while hers is now powerfully blooming. He fears ceding his status as an artist to Clara. He can no longer deny how good she is. Grasping an opportunity to derail her burgeoning career is a measure of this fear, his neediness and dependency, his self-interest. Somewhere in there, though, is a prick of conscience, as he asks himself, 'What have I done?' 

A deep-seated jealously of Clara resides within him. Not only artistically and for the recognition she is now receiving, but also of the intimacy she has with others...something of which he is incapable. Peter is even jealous of Gamache's 'easy relationship with Clara'. The closest he gets to a real intimacy is with his finely detailed paintings behind the closed door of his studio. 'The place he kept his art. The place he kept his heart.'' Now even this is failing him. Welcome to the pathway to dissolution!

Motive is at the heart of every investigation for the Sûreté team. Beyond the facts of a case they look for motive and opportunity. A small patch of soil or an empty pot is all the opportunity I need to plant something. I like to grow what I eat, and take comfort in knowing that I can be right at the source of some of the food that my family eats. Ah, motive and opportunity! The freshness and flavour of organically grown seasonal produce is at the heart of it. There is nothing quite like the flavour and texture of vegetables eaten fresh from the garden. It's not always possible to grow your own, but even having a few pots of herbs is certainly worth considering. The addition of some fresh herbs can elevate a vegetable dish to something quite special.

I love a big platter of young, seasonal vegetables to pick and choose from at a meal. Even young children, who can be finicky (not to mention some adults), are quite happy to hoe into lots of the vegetables on offer in a platter like this! They can be enjoyed just as Clara and Peter did, or to accompany something else like fish, poultry, meat or pulses. I like to have a contrast between leafy greens, root vegetables or tubers, and those from the bush or vine. So at this time of year, early summer where I am, there is quite a range. 

Peter boiled the tiny potatoes but I steamed them until tender, only 20 minutes. A squeeze of fresh lemon juice, tossed in sweet (unsalted) butter and finished with chopped chives and flat leaf parsley, a grind of black pepper is all that is required for deliciousness. I find that the addition of herbs reduces the need for salt, a matter of personal taste though. I always use unsalted butter in my cooking as it allows me to control the seasoning of things.

I prefer to eat and cook young, finger-like carrots, and particularly like the multi-coloured heritage varieties that are available to grow or buy. They always look so festive! I poached them until tender, reduced the liquid to almost nothing, and then finished cooking them with a couple of tablespoons of honey, for a sweet glazing. Finally, a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil, cracked black pepper and a generous sprinkling of fresh coriander leaves/cilantro (including some of the flowers).

Young fresh beetroot simply roasted are sweet, earthy and delicious. I don't peel them when they are young. I wrapped them in lightly oiled aluminium foil and cooked them for approximately 40 minutes in a 180C/350F oven. A drizzle of red wine vinegar, a tiny splash of extra-virgin olive oil, a grinding of black pepper, and Voila!

Small roasted tomatoes add a wonderful colour and texture contrast, and rich savouriness to the platter. Cut a small cross into the top of each tomato, give it a tiny splash of extra-virgin olive oil, a sprinkle of fresh thyme leaves, sea salt and ground black pepper. Cover the roasting dish with aluminium foil and roast in a 150C/300F oven for 30 minutes, remove the cover and increase the oven temperature to 190C/375F and cook until the tomatoes begin to collapse slightly. Lightly drizzle with balsamic vinegar just as they are removed from the oven.

Zucchini flower ready for pollination. Bzzzz...

 Asparagus, zucchini and peas just go well together! With the addition of spring onions, fresh dill, parsley and garlic they resonate spring and summer. I used snow peas/mangetout, as fresh shelling peas were not available.

Lightly fry the asparagus spears, zucchini slices and peas in a little extra-virgin olive oil and add a dash or two of chicken stock to help the cooking along and prevent the vegetables from sticking.

Fry for several minutes ensuring that the vegetables still have some 'crunch' at the end of cooking.

Just before removing them from the heat add chopped spring onion, fresh dill and 

flat-leaf parsley and one or two crushed and finely chopped garlic cloves. I also added some sliced zucchini flowers. The herbs provide a very complementary burst of flavour with the vegetables. Finish with a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil and a grind of black pepper.

 

One of my favourite ways to eat spinach and other leafy greens is to cook them the way I first  experienced them in northern Italy. Finely chop a generous bunch of leaves (including the stems) and slowly braise in some water or chicken stock until very soft and tender, and rich in flavour. Alternatively you can braise the whole leaves and then finely chop them. I used spinach, young beetroot leaves, radicchio and sorrel from the garden.

At the end of cooking when the liquid has been reduced right down, stir through fresh finely chopped garlic to taste, and some extra-virgin olive oil and a little black pepper so that you have a dense mound of greens. So good!!

Even though some 'uncomfortable truths' exist between them, Clara has little reason to doubt Peter's motives in responding to her request for advice. Why would she? She believes he is very loyal. She trusts him. A new agent to the Sûreté team, on the other hand, and rather ironically, is bound to wonder at a colleague's motives.

He’d looked at her then, trying to figure out what her motives might be. Everyone had them, he knew. Some were driven by kindness, some not. And he’d been at the Sûreté long enough to know that most in the famous police force weren’t guided by a desire to be nice. It was brutally competitive, and nowhere more so than the scramble to get into homicide. The most prestigious posting. And the chance to work with Chief Inspector Gamache. He was barely in, and barely hanging on. One wrong move and he’d slide right out the door, and be forgotten in an instant. He wasn’t going to let that happen. And he knew, instinctively, this was a pivotal moment. Was Agent Lacoste sincere? (The Brutal Telling, Kindle p.156)

Of course she was! Her motives are not malevolent. Lacoste views Agent Morin as her 'protégé', mentoring him, just as Gamache first mentored her. And Morin's sense of trust in her is not misplaced, as he takes her advice.

Louise Penny introduces us to the young, 'gangly and awkward', and inexperienced Agent Paul Morin in The Brutal Telling. We are given a window into his character through his thoughts and actions and the observations and opinions of the Sûreté team. We feel for him and his uncertainties and fears of being inept, in a caring and sometimes amused sort of way.

So far so good, thought Morin. Seems the idiot agent act is working. Now if only it wasn’t an act. (The Brutal Telling, Kindle p.181)

While he always looks a bit 'clueless', he is determined, and proves his value by learning to watch, listen, research diligently and learn from the team. Gradually through the investigative processes, as his impressions and opinions are sought, he understands that the team is investing in him as a colleague. Even Beauvoir had 'quite warmed to the young man'. 

And how satisfying to discover that Morin is something of a revelation. Our hearts open further to him.

Agent Morin had changed. His loose-limbed awkward body contorted perfectly for the violin, as though created and designed for this purpose. To play. To produce this music. His eyes were closed and he looked the way Gamache felt. Filled with joy. Rapture even. Such was the power of this music. This instrument. ... The violin might be a masterpiece, but Agent Paul Morin certainly was. (The Brutal Telling, Kindle p.294)

And for me, having revisited the series, there is a poignant foreshadowing of what tragically lies ahead.

‘That was foolish of you,’ said Gamache. He looked stern and his voice was without warmth. Morin instantly reddened. ‘Never, ever wander on your own into the woods, do you understand? You might have been lost.’ ‘But you’d find me, wouldn’t you?’ (The Brutal Telling, Kindle p.226)

I like to think he is not forgotten.

To complete the dinner I served fish with the vegetable platter and baguettes.

It's always important to consider the balance of protein in a meal. I gently poached some Atlantic salmon cutlets and made a mousseline sauce, which is a very light, lemon-tangy accompaniment to the fish. It's a very versatile hollandaise-based sauce that works beautifully with vegetables or fish. A bit of lightly whipped cream added to the sauce base contributes to its lightness. It's worth getting to know this sauce.

Mousseline sauce

200g/7oz unsalted butter, chopped

2 egg yolks, at room temperature

40ml/1.4fl oz water

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, strained

pinch of salt and white pepper

1/3 cup of pure cream, lightly whipped

1.  Clarify the unsalted butter, by melting it on a low heat and cooking until the milk solids separate off to the bottom of the saucepan. Skim the surface and set aside.

2.  Hand whisk the egg yolks and water in a bowl over a pot of simmering water. Keep whisking (it takes a while) until the mixture has a thick, creamy consistency.

3.  Gradually whisk in the clarified butter, a drizzle at a time until completely absorbed. Gently fold in the lemon juice and salt and pepper. Serve warm. Pour over the fish and sprinkle with chopped chives.