Kig ha Farz
When you think of โtake-outโ, France perhaps isnโt the first culture that comes to mind.
The concept to me seems so American; pick up the phone or walk to the corner, grab something to eat, bring it home and eat it in front of the television.
Nice and quickโฆand no dishes!
In spite of what you might think, France has plenty of take-out food shops, called traiteurs. These specialty shops are loaded with tempting things to eat: roasted and smoked meats, a few carefully-selected cheeses, vegetable salads, poached and cured fish, and of course, terrines and pรขtes.

Although I donโt usually visit the traiteur, since I like to cook for myself and friends, i was in serious pursuit of Kig ha Farz, a Breton curiosity thatโs made by making a gargantuan โdumplingโ of buckwheat flour, eggs, butter, and milk or cream, stirring them together and simmering the whole thing in a special linen sack (and yes, I bought one in Brittany to make this in the future.)
After the giant dumpling is cooked, the bag is rolled and rolled until the dumplingโs been broken up into tiny, couscous-like pieces. Itโs heaped onto a plate and served with smoked bacon or lard, as they call it in France. Although Iโve seen recipes that call for vegetables served alongside, no one seemed to be requesting anyโฆand there didnโt seem to be any on offer.

After hearing about Kig ha Farz for years, I was very curious and eager to try it. Acting on a tip from a friendโs Breton mother, I found one of the few remaining places in the world that still makes Kig ha Farzโฆand they make it only on Wednesdays.
Sure enough, when I arrived, there was a huge mob barely forming a lineโฆand the frantic, but cheerful saleswomen were spooning Kig ha Farz into take-out barquettes as fast as they could (and most couldnโt resist picking and eating little morsels as they scooped. I canโt say I blame themโฆIโd do the same, if no one was watching. Take that to those of you who think Iโm too uptight about food sanitation!)
Sporting a seriously-treacherous butcherโs knife, only then would the crowd part just long enough for them to hack off a slab of smoked bacon, wrap it in butcher-paper, and send you on your way. Once I was lucky to escape (alive), I went back to the house and wolfed down a plate of Kig ha Farzโฆthen immediately had seconds, giving little to the thought that in just a few hours Iโd have to don a swimsuit to return to the beach.
And the little French swimsuits leave no room for imagination, or expansion, caused by too much Kig ha Farz and lard.

Surely the most well-known take-away treats in Brittany are crรชpes, which are impossible to avoid no matter where you go. I woke extra-early one morning to scour a local Vide-Grenier (similar to a flea market, but more like a large, free-form garage sale.) There I scored a stack sumptuous, unused vintage French linen sheets (for about the price of one French linen pillowcase in the US) from a rather nasty womanโฆan encounter which would make a visit to the oral surgeon seem pleasurable.

Thankfully there were dilligent crรชpemakers there, swirling the eggy batter over the hot griddle, dotting them with salty butter and a dusting of crunchy sugar, passing off the warm, folded crรชpes to hungry and beat-upon shoppersโฆ.aka: moi!.
Later in the day, it was back to the traiteur and to make a picnic for the beach.
It was a perfectly clear day, blue sky, delicious food and red wineโฆgentle waves lapping as I fell asleep in the warm sandโฆwhere I dreamed of many future nights, dozing away in my cozy bed between luxurious, hard-won linen sheetsโฆwith a big, round tummyโฆfull of Kig ha Farz!

Tonnard-Lรฉost
Traiteur-Charcuterie Fine-Boucher
1, rue Gรฉnรฉral-Leclerc
Plouescat
Tel: 02 98 69 61 78







