Tomato, tabasco and a measure of atmosphere – replicating recipes and that elusive “mystery ingredient”.

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Mine is not a food blog, but last week, I wrote about a few of my fave meals in “tasty travel experiences.” Based on the comments I received (thank you very much), it’s apparent that food and dining is a fundamental part of the travel experience for many of us.

And it’s apparent that a lot of you like gazpacho!

I wrote about my experience at a pleasant little restaurant in Provence called Aubergine. It’s on the main drag of the lovely village of Villeneuve, just across the river from Avignon, made famous by seven successive popes (all French) who refused to move to Rome in the 1300s. Aubergine was the venue for my group’s welcome dinner at which we were served a gazpacho with chili sorbet that had everyone raving. The Manager, a très beau man named Thibaut, emailed the recipe to me a few days ago.

“Hello again, here is the recipe for gaspacho – around 10 persons” – 8 tomatoes – 2 red peppers – 2 green peppers – 3 cucombers – Tomato pure – Dry bread – A lot of garlic – Salt, peper, tabasco, worcestershire sauce A bientot, merci, best regards Thibaut 0033614416971

 

As to be expected from a chef, not very precise. And no olive oil or vinegar? Never have I seen a gazpacho recipe without olive oil and some variety of vinegar.  I was intrigued!

Last Sunday afternoon I went to the Farmer’s Market in Westlake Village and loaded up on peppers, tomatoes and cucumber. No doubt my mother, God rest her soul, rolled over in her grave at the cost of produce that grew like weeds in her garden back in Michigan. (Nobody ever said living in LA was cheap.)

Here’s what I mixed up, which yielded about 4 cups.

• 1 yellow pepper
• 1/2 green pepper
• 1/2 red pepper
• 1/2 cucumber (peeled)
• 1 big tomato
• about 12 cherry tomatoes (I had a bunch on hand…)
• 3 garlic cloves
• 1 T. tomato paste
• 1/2 t. Tabasco sauce
• 1 T. Worcestershire sauce
• 1 slice stale bread
• 1 t. salt
• a few turns of the pepper grinder

The combination of Tabasco and Worcestershire gave it the “bite” that I assume is normally imparted by the vinegar. The texture was coarse, with obvious bits of tomato peel. You could strain it, I suppose, but the roughage is healthy.

Was it as good as Aubergine’s? Malheureusement non!  Not the same. Lacking the ambiance of a charming Provençale restaurant, a handsome French proprietor, the wonderful company of my group and copious amounts of good local wine – it could never be the same experience. Mais – but – it was mighty tasty, as I enjoyed it al fresco, on my sun-filled patio overlooking my backyard birch grove, surrounded by my companionable cats.

Next time, though, I’ll be sure to add sorbet. Any flavor will do!