Email this page
Print this page
del.icio.us
digg
Feed
It’s a matter of taste and invention when eating ployes.
“Anything you can put on bread you can put on a ploye,” says Janice Bouchard, deftly sliding the softball-sized discs from her electric griddle and onto the growing stack. “It takes on the flavor of whatever you’re serving.” With the back of a spoon, she smooths the new spoonfuls into bigger circles. The ploye maker must disperse the batter for even cooking.
Bouchard, of Bouchard Family Farm, spoons her favorite topping—a kind of spiced Acadian pork pate called creton—onto a thin, steaming cake. Her uncle Royden Paradis boasts the original family recipe; Bouchard has tweaked the seasonings for a recent cookbook project. The pate is only one of several brunch options she is offering this morning, buffet-style, across her kitchen’s breakfast bar.
The pancake smell motivates her children, Julie and Philip, to get up from lazing in the living room after a post-dance slumber party. Julie and her friend Lindsay cozy up to the breakfast bar still wearing their pajamas. Bouchard deals them each a plate and ploye. The girls survey the toppings, but Philip gives his mother the “look” so famous with tweens.
“I’m sorry, you want a crispy one. What was I thinking?” Bouchard laughs and places his ploye back on the electric griddle.
“I like it really crispy with lots of butter,” says 12-year-old Philip. His sister Julie prefers chocolate chips.
Bouchard continues to cook off the batter as the girls try different options: fresh berries and whipped cream, ice cream and chocolate sauce, cinnamon and sugar, and simple maple syrup. Ploye fans often email and call Bouchard with new concoctions they’ve discovered, such as adding granola or wheat germ to the batter.
Her customers are also discovering what Bouchard has known all her life: Ployes are just as versatile for lunch and dinner meals as they are for breakfast. “If I don’t know what to make, I’ll just whip up a batch of ployes and pull whatever we can out of the fridge. It’s quick, easy, and inexpensive.” Bouchard has used ployes in place of tortillas for Mexican meals or sandwich wraps.
Traditionally, the descendants of the French along the Maine-Canada divide used ployes as their staple bread. Each household had their own variation on measuring flours, water temperature, and amounts to make their ploye batter. Some even added vinegar. Communities used to grow patches of buckwheat and bring their September harvest to the mill, just enough to keep them in their bread supply for the winter months.
“Years ago my grandmother had 16 kids and she’d get up really early and make stacks and stacks. But for me growing up, it was a big treat because my mother didn’t make it as often as I’d like.” Bouchard’s sister has an unfortunate allergy to buckwheat, but the family on occasion indulged in chicken stew or baked beans with ployes.
Buckwheat seeds grow easily in the County soil without pesticides. The Bouchards rotate the crop with potatoes. After drying the harvest, Janice’s husband and father-in-law, Joe and Alban Bouchard, grind the buckwheat (which is not a grain but rather a small fruit) as needed, using an antique mill they found in Canada, brought home, and puzzled back together.
Janice Bouchard often travels to food shows to advocate this important ingredient in Acadian food culture. She recently returned from a trip to Boston where she demonstrated her deft ploye cooking at a vegan convention. The crowds took to the egg-less and oil-free pancake, minus the creton, of course. People with gluten or lactose allergies can also feel free to enjoy the light texture of the ploye. Ployes continue to grow in popularity, and Bouchard ships as far as California.
Bouchard confides that people “from away” have more creative ideas for ployes. The folks in her neck of the woods, she says, are the ones who need the most encouragement to boost their ploye creativity. “Up here we’re trying to teach different ways to use ployes. We’re just so used to eating it as a bread.”
But Julie and Lindsay had no qualms about dipping it, wrapping it, and rolling it into whatever dish suited their taste until the eight-inch stack disappeared, replaced by a dirty dish pile. “They’re so good the kids just want to inhale them.”
With brunch finished, the kids began to think of dinner ideas. How about a ploye pizza?
4–5 lbs. pork cut into small pieces
2 Tbs. chicken stock
Water
1/4 tsp. Accent spice
1 Tbs. seasoned salt
1/8 tsp. black pepper
1 rounded Tbs. cinnamon
1 tsp. allspice
3 large onions chopped
Bouchard’s Ploye Mix
Place pork in large pot and fill with water to just below the meat-line. Add seasoned salt, pepper, and chicken broth. Boil for 2 to 2 1/2 hours. Check meat. If cooked through, strain meat from liquid and set aside to cool. Set aside one quarter of the juices to be added later.
In the remaining three quarters of the juices, add onions, cinnamon, and allspice. Bring to a boil, while stirring constantly. Reduce temperature and simmer for a half hour. While the onions simmer, grind the pork. Add the ground pork back to the pot. Add more of the juice as needed. Make ployes according to package directions; place stack of ployes under a towel to keep warm. Spread creton onto ployes, roll if desired, and serve.
“Anything you can put on bread you can put on a ploye,” says Janice Bouchard, deftly sliding the softball-sized discs from her electric griddle and onto the growing stack. “It takes on the flavor of whatever you’re serving.” With the back of a spoon, she smooths the new spoonfuls into bigger circles. The ploye maker must disperse the batter for even cooking.
Bouchard, of Bouchard Family Farm, spoons her favorite topping—a kind of spiced Acadian pork pate called creton—onto a thin, steaming cake. Her uncle Royden Paradis boasts the original family recipe; Bouchard has tweaked the seasonings for a recent cookbook project. The pate is only one of several brunch options she is offering this morning, buffet-style, across her kitchen’s breakfast bar.
The pancake smell motivates her children, Julie and Philip, to get up from lazing in the living room after a post-dance slumber party. Julie and her friend Lindsay cozy up to the breakfast bar still wearing their pajamas. Bouchard deals them each a plate and ploye. The girls survey the toppings, but Philip gives his mother the “look” so famous with tweens.
Advertisement
“I’m sorry, you want a crispy one. What was I thinking?” Bouchard laughs and places his ploye back on the electric griddle.
“I like it really crispy with lots of butter,” says 12-year-old Philip. His sister Julie prefers chocolate chips.
Bouchard continues to cook off the batter as the girls try different options: fresh berries and whipped cream, ice cream and chocolate sauce, cinnamon and sugar, and simple maple syrup. Ploye fans often email and call Bouchard with new concoctions they’ve discovered, such as adding granola or wheat germ to the batter.
Her customers are also discovering what Bouchard has known all her life: Ployes are just as versatile for lunch and dinner meals as they are for breakfast. “If I don’t know what to make, I’ll just whip up a batch of ployes and pull whatever we can out of the fridge. It’s quick, easy, and inexpensive.” Bouchard has used ployes in place of tortillas for Mexican meals or sandwich wraps.
Traditionally, the descendants of the French along the Maine-Canada divide used ployes as their staple bread. Each household had their own variation on measuring flours, water temperature, and amounts to make their ploye batter. Some even added vinegar. Communities used to grow patches of buckwheat and bring their September harvest to the mill, just enough to keep them in their bread supply for the winter months.
“Years ago my grandmother had 16 kids and she’d get up really early and make stacks and stacks. But for me growing up, it was a big treat because my mother didn’t make it as often as I’d like.” Bouchard’s sister has an unfortunate allergy to buckwheat, but the family on occasion indulged in chicken stew or baked beans with ployes.
Buckwheat seeds grow easily in the County soil without pesticides. The Bouchards rotate the crop with potatoes. After drying the harvest, Janice’s husband and father-in-law, Joe and Alban Bouchard, grind the buckwheat (which is not a grain but rather a small fruit) as needed, using an antique mill they found in Canada, brought home, and puzzled back together.
Janice Bouchard often travels to food shows to advocate this important ingredient in Acadian food culture. She recently returned from a trip to Boston where she demonstrated her deft ploye cooking at a vegan convention. The crowds took to the egg-less and oil-free pancake, minus the creton, of course. People with gluten or lactose allergies can also feel free to enjoy the light texture of the ploye. Ployes continue to grow in popularity, and Bouchard ships as far as California.
Bouchard confides that people “from away” have more creative ideas for ployes. The folks in her neck of the woods, she says, are the ones who need the most encouragement to boost their ploye creativity. “Up here we’re trying to teach different ways to use ployes. We’re just so used to eating it as a bread.”
But Julie and Lindsay had no qualms about dipping it, wrapping it, and rolling it into whatever dish suited their taste until the eight-inch stack disappeared, replaced by a dirty dish pile. “They’re so good the kids just want to inhale them.”
With brunch finished, the kids began to think of dinner ideas. How about a ploye pizza?
Creton and Ployes
Makes approximately 7 quarts4–5 lbs. pork cut into small pieces
2 Tbs. chicken stock
Water
1/4 tsp. Accent spice
1 Tbs. seasoned salt
1/8 tsp. black pepper
1 rounded Tbs. cinnamon
1 tsp. allspice
3 large onions chopped
Bouchard’s Ploye Mix
Place pork in large pot and fill with water to just below the meat-line. Add seasoned salt, pepper, and chicken broth. Boil for 2 to 2 1/2 hours. Check meat. If cooked through, strain meat from liquid and set aside to cool. Set aside one quarter of the juices to be added later.
In the remaining three quarters of the juices, add onions, cinnamon, and allspice. Bring to a boil, while stirring constantly. Reduce temperature and simmer for a half hour. While the onions simmer, grind the pork. Add the ground pork back to the pot. Add more of the juice as needed. Make ployes according to package directions; place stack of ployes under a towel to keep warm. Spread creton onto ployes, roll if desired, and serve.
