by Libby
'The woods had been chilly and the thought
of a café au lait in front of
this open fire was too good. And maybe a licorice pipe, or two.'
(Still Life, Kindle, p.61)
This is our introduction to Chief Inspector Armand Gamache with a
licorice pipe. It's rather quirky, and unexpected, that the Head of Homicide in
the Sûreté du Quebec, is partial to such a treat. Aren’t fictional
detectives usually predisposed to greasy fast food, an alcoholic
beverage or other drug of choice?
We get to know Armand Gamache as a refined,
intelligent and loyal man, highly observant, thoughtful, and also intuitive. He
is a man of integrity. His honesty, conscience, compassion and empathy attest
to it. I am reminded of Louise Penny's hope for readers, that if there is one
message received from this series it is that 'goodness exists'. This is
probably no better personified than in Armand Gamache.
We sense that he is a man, a leader,
comfortable in his own skin. He has no need for pretentious or condescending
behaviour. Funny how a little idiosyncrasy like a penchant for a licorice pipe
captures our imagination and draws us closer to the character of the man. He's not even above a little self-parody
amongst friends. And that's what endears him to us.
“Did you miss me?” “We must never speak of our feelings, Gabri,” said Gamache. “It would crush Olivier and Reine-Marie.” “Too true,” laughed Gabri and coming around from the bar he offered the Chief Inspector a licorice pipe. “And I hear it’s always best to suppress emotions.” Gamache put the licorice pipe in his mouth as though he was smoking it. “Very continental,” said Gabri, nodding approval. “Very Maigret.” “ Merci. The look I was going for.” (A Trick of the Light, Kindle, p.202)
We also associate the liquorice pipe with a
'welcome' to the convivial setting of the Bistro, a small
offering by Gabri or Olivier, of friendship and comfort.
‘Olivier had greeted him with a hug and a licorice pipe.' (The Cruellest Month, Kindle, p.96)
“If any man looked like he could use a good pipe,” said Olivier. “Merci, patron.” Gamache dropped onto the sofa with a groan and raised the candy to his companions. “À votre santé.” (How the Light Gets In, Kindle, p.196)
But that association changes during the
excruciating time, when the Three Pines community is reeling from the
conviction of Olivier, and the connection between friends is strained.
‘Gabri,’ said Gamache, and the two old friends stared at each other. ‘Monsieur,’ said Gabri...And offered Gamache a licorice pipe. Myrna walked in a few minutes later to find Gabri and Gamache sitting quietly by the fire. Talking...An uneaten licorice pipe between them.'(The Brutal Telling, Kindle, p.498)
Later the licorice pipe becomes not only a
reminder of the bond of friendship, but almost an inducement to right a
perceived wrong.
'Gabri looked down at the...writing paper with its partly finished message. The same one he wrote every day and mailed, along with a licorice pipe. ' (Bury Your Dead, Kindle, p.42)
Significantly, Gamache is unable to accept
the treat, as he wrestles with his own demons and the improbability of
changing Olivier’s conviction.
'Inside, as always, Gabri had put a licorice pipe. Gamache took it out, hesitated, then offered the treat to the man across the way.' (Bury Your Dead, Kindle, p.16)
And so, Armand Gamache has succeeded in elevating the
licorice pipe into our consciousness! Even Agent Yvette Nichol is not unaffected. She
can't resist having a little dig.
“How could his name be attached to this file, but not appear in it?” Gamache asked. “It could be hidden,” said Nichol. “Or an outside reference. Like your name might be attached to a file on balding, or licorice pipes.” (How the Light Gets In, Kindle, p.303)
Early in the series I was left wondering why a
dedicated licorice eater such as I, had never heard of a 'licorice pipe'.
It seems I've been living on the wrong continent!
Recently, two close friends and I had an amazing trip to Quebec and
the Eastern Townships after we acted on our inspired idea to go in search of Three Pines. We hit the trail of all the
inspirational sites for the series.
 |
| Inspiration for church of St Thomas, Three Pines |
Tracking down licorice pipes was also high on our agenda! So there we were in the township of Lac Brome, envisaging going home with boxes of them. All we managed to do was scoop up the last handful in the last box in the shop. But we had a good laugh later that day posing with, and eating our licorice pipes!
It's actually quite a good flavoured licorice,
not sticky and with the right amount of chewiness. But I have always wondered
(I think a few of us have) about its pairing with a cafe au lait
or a glass of
Scotch.
'Armand Gamache leaned back in his chair, just as the Scotch and his café au lait and candy arrived. He took them and with all the dignity he could muster, turned to Ruth. ‘Pipe, Madame?’...Ruth nodded and absently stirred her Scotch with the butt end of her licorice pipe.' (Still Life, Kindle, p.64-5)
I was rather curious about these seemingly incongruous flavour combinations, so I had to give them a try. Well as it turns
out, both are quite pleasing to the palate. Coffee and licorice seem to go
together. It's not a jarring combination.
As for Scotch, well there's a surprising
flavour harmony between a licorice pipe and a glass of 12 year old single malt.
This made more sense when I learned that 'licorice' is in the tasting descriptors
of some single malt Scotch whiskies, and even some bourbons.
So perhaps it's not just a sweet treat but
something more sophisticated, which Armand Gamache, Olivier and Gabri, have
obviously understood.
Licorice candy derives its flavour from licorice
root (Glycyrrhiza Glabra) which has a subtle earthiness and natural
sweetness (because of the glycyrrhizin it contains). Traditionally it has been
used as a herbal treatment for quite a few ailments including digestive ones.
There is, however, some ‘licorice' candy
that is made without licorice root and uses other flavouring agents. Look for ‘licorice
extract’ on the ingredients list, for the real deal!
All things in moderation, though. Here are some
health warnings about over consuming black licorice (that contains
licorice extract) in a short period of time.
Licorice root is also used in the making of
some aperitifs, for example, Red Vermouth (used in such popular cocktails as
the Manhattan and Negroni) and the French aperitif, Pastis.
And now it’s being
rediscovered in ice-cream, other creamy desserts and chocolate, and as a taste
partner with some fish, poultry and game. I was rather intrigued by the idea of licorice
root ice-cream, so I've taken a small tangent! I've adapted my usual recipe (see below) to make some. Much less sugar is required for this recipe
than normal, owing to the natural sweetness of the licorice root. The ice-cream custard is
infused with pure licorice root shavings, or tea (usually
available in health food stores that sell herbal products).
The ice cream is a little unusual with an
earthy, delicate licorice flavour (quite unlike black licorice candy) and goes
perfectly with the tartness of rhubarb, lightly stewed with just a little
sugar. I made some coconut tuile biscuits for a sweet, crisp accompaniment. It’s a
sophisticated combination of flavours, but easy enough to achieve when you have
a bit of time on your hands.
This is obviously not the purplish-black confection
that usually passes for 'licorice ice-cream'. If you want to make that you just
need to substitute ground-up black licorice candy and melt it into your custard.
Licorice icecream (makes 1 quart/1litre):
2 cups/500ml of pure cream (not thickened
cream)
1 cup/250ml of whole milk
2 tablespoons of licorice root tea (double this amount of liquorice root for a more intense flavour)
6 egg yolks at room temperature
1/3 cup/90g
superfine sugar
2 tablespoons of vodka or other alcohol (optional)
Warm the cream and milk in a saucepan until
just before it reaches simmer point. It must not boil. Remove from heat and
stir in the licorice root tea, lightly cover, and allow it to infuse for about
an hour.
In a bowl, whisk the egg yolks and sugar until
they are light and creamy. Place a fine sieve (to strain off the licorice root)
over the bowl and pour in the warm cream/milk infusion. Whisk together until
well mixed. Pour into a clean saucepan and gently cook over medium to low heat
for 10 minutes while constantly stirring with a wooden spoon. Don’t
let the custard come to a simmer. This is no time to be distracted!
Pour into a large jug, allow to cool and then
refrigerate until very cold. Pour into an icecream maker and churn for 20-25
minutes. Optional: Add 2 tablespoons of alcohol, such as vodka, in the last ten
minutes of churning, for a softer icecream.
Earl Grey ice-cream, from an earlier post, uses
the same recipe. Just substitute 2 tablespoons of Earl Grey tea leaves, and use
¾ cup/150g superfine sugar and 2 tablespoons of Cointreau.
