When people think of the southern port city of Marseille, in terms of flavours, the famous fish soup Bouillabaisse springs to mind. But there is a wonderful little biscuit, with an enormous following and an equally huge flavour, that is loved in this bustling city: la navette à fleur d’oranger. Les Marseillaise are very proud of their adorable, ‘barque’ (boat) shaped biscuit, that is as parfumed as it is hard. A mere sniff of ‘fleur d’oranger’ and my daughter is dreaming of what she likes to label her ‘Marseille soap biscuits’. A very curious moniker she has given them yes, but she has reason; the fragrance and flavour of orange flower water is a signature so easily ascribed to this southern city. From navette biscuits to the sweet and mysterious oriental patisseries that dot the various quartiers, to soaps, this intoxicating perfume is redolent of pleasant indulgences, of luxury and this colourful and unique city.
One day I shall take you on a visit to the oldest bakery in Marseille, where these biscuits have been made for centuries. There are a few theories that abound as to what is the origin of the shape and the most popular appears to be that the form is symbolic of the boat used to transport the three Saint Mary’s to Camargue after their exile by the Romans according to Christian tradition and legend.
Now whilst making navettes de Marseille yesterday, as I was forming their little boat bodied shapes, I couldn’t help but think about the traditional boats of the city. We have long held an association to the very old, traditional latin sailing boats of Marseille, having spent 8 years caring for one and my husband being a passionate sailor and part of this association since his university days. So I decided that at dusk last night, I would take you the reader and one of my biscuit ‘boats’ to visit the old barques to the north of the city.
Navettes de Marseille à fleur d’oranger
300g flour
4 tablespoons of olive oil, or a more neutral flavoured oil if you prefer
110g sugar
1 egg
4 tablespoons of orange flower water
1/2 teaspoon of salt
1/4 teaspoon of baking powder
Milk for glazing
Preheat oven to 180°C
Sift together flour, baking powder and salt.
Whisk together the egg and sugar to a pale mousse. Stir in the orange flower water.
Blend the egg mixture into the flour mixture and combine to make a stiff dough. Depending on your flour’s liquid absorbtion, if your dough is still sticky, add a little more flour until you just manage to have a dough that rolls smoothly without cracking.
Weigh you dough and divide into 12 pieces, rolling out to make equal length, neat sausages of between 10 to 12 cm. Pince the two ends and place on a paper lined tray. Using a small sharp knife, make a slit half way down the middle of each little log.
Brush with milk and slide your tray into the preheated oven. Keep a very good eye on your biscuits, checking their state of readiness often. They should take around 20 minutes to cook to a golden brown.
I remember a summer when my children were still small, we decided to take a day trip to Banon, the home of the famous AOP cheese of the same name, a treasured disc of goats cheese, wrapped as a cute little package in chestnut leaves. 
The day was positively sweltering, I remember not knowing if I would melt or just evaporate in the cruel summer sun. But what a memory, because scorched into my mind along with that weather memory, is the taste of that spectacular cheese, tasted in so many formats. Here I would like to invite you to try a marinated goats cheese: if you cannot find Banon, try a relatively young goats cheese. Banon is aged in their naked state for about 5 days, then wrapped and matured for at least another 10.
Such delicacy, a flavour so full, wistful and enchanting, powerful yet somehow sedate, with such a satisfying bite to these crystal like little cubes. Their exterior sprinkled with small grained sugar, the interior smooth as your teeth slide through the texture to bite! He explained that it was a sort of ‘pâte de fruits’, like the others in his selection – raspberry, or an apricot passionfruit mix, but alas, the Chartreuse version contains no fruit. So we decided to dub it ‘pâte de fruits sans fruits’ (fruit paste without any fruit) on the spot. I bought two precious little bags. I hope he will be able to send more by post if I can’t visit again soon. I don’t know how I will be without my now early afternoon tradition of a piece of Chartreuse pâte de fruits sans fruits after my lunch!
But for today, I settle for getting out my grandmother’s cookery book and baking up a batch of ANZAC biscuits. Whether or not they were sent to troops because of their lack of rapid spoilage, or sold
at fairs and public gatherings to raise money for the war effort, I consider them to be anything but a ‘scrimp and save’ ration style biscuit, but rather a rich treat. Oats, sugar, butter, golden syrup and coconut meld together for a golden crunchy biscuit with a spectacular flavour.
We made a very beautiful discovery in a brocante of Grenoble, the sewing album of a Miss Lucette Joffrette Terret, 13 years of age. An exquisite collection of hand sewn pieces, exercises and even an adorable, tiny smock on the last double page.
A very happy new year to you! I have two resolutions for this year. The first is to face my fear of making viennoiseries – pastries – and I am on the right track. I mean, isn’t it difficult to tear yourself away from the above photo? Hmm? Did you cast your eye over the exquisite multitude of paper thin layers, all rising up in a victory celebration for little old me? I wish you could see my facial expression right now. Try to imagine me standing at a podium, palm to chest, humbled and disbelieving, as I accept my gilded, pastry layer statuette for ‘flakiest bake and baker’. Then recounting to an enraptured audience, my deepest, darkest fears that home made pâte feuilletée would always elude me and thus I would forever be chained to the refrigerator section of ready-rolled. I thank my husband and my dogs, for eating all my failed recipes without complaint, but the same can’t be said for my children. But most importantly I wish to thank my supermarket, for never succeeding to have the product supply to meet the demand.
Financiers are little gold almond ingots of sweetness that in my eyes are as valuable as any bullion. These small, dense bars of cake evolved from the clever idea of a patissier called Mr Lasne in the 1890s to revive and repackage an old cake recipe, visitandine, invented by an order of nuns of the same name and baked since the 17th century. 
It is the first day of the summer holidays and that signals a really obvious thing – huge movement of traffic throughout France’s autoroute network, with millions heading for le soleil! 
Elixir in mon mixeur 