La cuisine de Picardie

Last week, we ended our look at Picardie’s culture with an introduction to its extraordinary native son, Alexandre Dumas. This week, we begin our exploration of Picardie cuisine with Dumas. Perhaps one reason we love the French so much is that it seems every French person, regardless of profession, is obligated to contribute to the cuisine. Dumas was no exception.

Dumas is famous for his novels, notably The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo, but the last great work of his life was the massive Grand Dictionhnaire de Cuisine, a volume of 600,000 words published posthumously in 1873. According to the publisher of the abridged English translation, Dumas on Food, it was for this work that Dumas wished to be remembered.

As with many French persons, Dumas viewed the entire world of foodstuffs as his eminent domain. He provided descriptions, anecdotes, stories and recipes of foods across the globe, some discovered on his travels. It is a fascinating first-hand account of the gourmet habits of a 19th century French gentleman. [Note: If you wish to read this book, you will need to track down a copy in the used book market as it is unfortunately out of print.]

I have not seen Dumas’ original work, so I can’t know what was omitted in the abridged version. Perhaps he wrote extensively on the food of his boyhood and the editors chose not to include it. Nevertheless, the dishes that are now considered the icons of Picardie cuisine are not described by this most famous native son.

Fortunately, you have me to look them up.

And unfortunately, some can not be easily replicated outside their place of origin.

Unless you are one of those people who can obtain what she wants wherever she happens to be, you will need to go to Picardie to try agneau de pré-salé, lamb that feeds in the salt water marshes of the Baie de Somme and is prized for its unique flavor.

Also, you probably need to go to Amiens to sample its special pâté en croûte of a boned duck baked in pastry. I’ll be doing a hacked version here since I do not have the skills or patience to try the original and I highly doubt I’ll find it on a restaurant menu stateside.

However, easily accessible to the home cook is the delicious almond cookie of Amiens, a simple cake with chantilly cream, and a crêpe dish that could be described as French enchiladas.

More photos are on this week’s video episode.


First up is that hard thing, the pâté en croûte. Amiens, the premiere city of Picardie, is known for its version of this French classic. My old edition of the Larousse Gastronomique has a recipe, but otherwise most of the instructions I found for making it were in French. I’m sure the effort is well worth it, but I settled for a cheaper and less time-consuming version.

My pâté en croûte, after the first slice.

Start this two days in advance, or at least very early on the day before you plan to serve it. Basically, you’re chilling the filling and the dough for several hours.

The Superb and Rustic Pâté en Croûte

adapted from a recipe by Yohan Lastre in Let’s Eat France

Cook’s note: The original recipe used a combination of chicken breasts, chicken thighs, pork tenderloin and pork belly. My market didn’t have pork belly, so I used more tenderloin, but I’m certain the pork belly would have made it richer with the extra fat. Also, 1350g of total meat was a little too much for my pan; 1kg would have sufficed. And I only needed half the gelatin recipe.

  • 160 g unsalted butter
  • 1 egg
  • 1 pinch sugar
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 50 g water
  • 250 g all-purpose flour

Melt the butter, let it cool, then beat it with the remaining ingredients for 20 seconds. Knead it until a dough forms, wrap in plastic and refrigerate overnight. The next day, roll it into a large rectangle that can line a greased 9×5 loaf pan, about 1/2 inch thick. Place the dough in the greased pan.

Cook’s note: I highly recommend bakeware from the USA Pan company. You don’t even need to butter or oil these pans.

  • 650 g boneless, skinless chicken thighs, ground or chopped finely
  • 350 g pork tenderloin, ground or chopped finely
  • 350 g pork belly
  • 28 g sea salt
  • freshly ground black pepper (about 15 turns of the mill, maybe 1 tsp)
  • 1 pinch spice blend (I used garam masala)
  • 1/3 cup white wine, vermouth, brandy or port. (I used vermouth and sherry.)
  • 120 g shelled pistachios

Combine all and refrigerate, wrapped, overnight. The next day, after lining the loaf pan with the crust, add this filling. Bake for about 25 minutes at 400F, then lower the heat to 275F and baked until the center is 149F on an instant read thermometer.

While the pâté is cooking, make the gélee.

  • 1 pkg gelatin
  • 4.5 cups chicken or vegetable broth
  • 1/4 cup port

Melt the gelatin in the warm broth, then stir in the port.

Remove the pâté from the oven and fill it with some of the warm gélee. Repeat this step about four or five times in 30 minute intervals. Refrigerate the pâté and any remaining gelée overnight.

The next day, heat the remaining gelée and pour over the top of the pâté. Refrigerate until set. To unmold, gently warm the tin in the oven to loosen the crust from the pan. Slice and serve.


macarons d’amiens

Now that we’ve gotten the hard one out of the way, let’s go for the easiest. These little cookies are simple, delicious and gluten-free! Another treat from Amiens, they just require a little forethought as the dough needs to chill.

There are several recipes on the internet. I used this one, but I forgot to brush the cookies with the egg yolk.


ficelle picarde

A newer entry (circa 1950s) into the cuisine de Picardie is this dish that reminds me of enchiladas. I made it to great acclaim, even from our French houseguest who had never before tried it (he’s from the south of France). I used this recipe, substituting white wine for the lemon juice and using emmantaler cheese.


gâteau battu

A sweet ending or an afternoon snack with tea, this cake is not difficult to make and uses pantry ingredients. It’s almost more of a bread than a cake, and it is traditionally eaten with jam. In Picardie, it is baked in a mold that resembles a chef’s hat, but lacking such a thing, I happily discovered I could approximate the effect with my English pudding pan, thus creating another role for that aside from the annual extravaganza that is Nigella’s Christmas Pudding.

The gâteau also provided a nice base for a dollop of chantilly cream, a classic version of whipped cream originating from the Picardie town of the same name.


There are so many dishes from Picardie that I read about but did not have time to try this week, and now we’re off to Normandy. I feel like I need to move to France and do this over a decade, at least!

À bientôt !