The Christmas Dessert with a Rich History: Discover the Pompe à l'Huile
Thursday, December 12, 2024
Bonjour, Jean-Marc here—Kristi's husband, aka Chief Grape, and the guy behind those sound files you hear in this journal. From January 6 to March 20, 2025, I’ll be cycling the legendary Carretera Austral in Chile and making wine in Mendoza, Argentina.
If you have friends or family in Santiago (Chile) or Mendoza (Argentina), I’d love any helpful connections to make this adventure even more special. I’ll send some trip photos to Kristi, who might sneak them into a post here while I'm away.
Merci beaucoup for your help and à bientôt!
Jean-Marc ([email protected])
A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse
If I learned French from books and teachers, and if it was my French family and friends who grew and tended my vocabulary, would you believe it was a humble cake that taught me la Cène?
The discovery came while I was leafing through l’Almanach Provençal, a treasure trove of Provençal traditions. I had just admired a sweetly decorated olive tree when my gaze landed on another ancient Christmas custom: la Pompe à l’Huile.
My first encounter with this gâteau was years ago at Cousin Sabine’s. Married to Jean-Marc’s cousin François, Sabine often hosts Le Gros Souper at their family vineyard nestled in the fragrant foothills of la montaigne Sainte -Victoire. It was there I first discovered les santons and their bustling village scenes: little clay figurines representing the local characters of Provence—la boulangère, le chasseur, and l’homme ravi, among others.
Sabine’s crèche was an elaborate tableau, complete with fresh moss gathered from the surrounding hills to form the floor of a miniature Provençal village. Off to the side but at the heart of it all was l'étable, the humble stable, quietly anchoring the scene.
After admiring the nativity scene, we gathered around Sabine’s mile-long dining table to enjoy a traditional feast that lasted until the sun dipped below the horizon. Annie, Sabine's mom, served home-grown chickpeas, still warm from the cocotte-minute. Sabine’s father, André, a hunter, tended the wild faisan which cooked in the fireplace beside our festive meal. A host of other dishes circulated the grand table along with family wines including Uncle Jean-Claude's Domaine du Banneret, from Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Then came the grand finale: the thirteen desserts, each laden with symbolism, representing Jesus Christ and the twelve apostles.
Among the sweets, I’ll never forget la pompe à l’huile. Modest and unadorned, these characteristics remind me of the manger, where Christ lay as a newborn. No matter how many times we sang Away in a Manger growing up, for me, it took learning French to fully grasp the poignancy of the English word "manger" in this exact context: Our Lord was laid in none other than a feeding trough for animals.
As for the pompe à l’huile, there was nothing pompous about its appearance. No icing, no layers, no filling—not even a couronne, like the one sported by another popular (but equally plain) cake. No, this pompe à l’huile was as plain as a felled sapin: a simple, round loaf delicately scented with orange blossom and made with olive oil—its namesake. Its history may explain its rustic charm. Born of necessity, the dessert originated as a way to save the last precious drops of oil from the press. Flour was used to "pump" or absorb the oil, with a touch of sugar added... and voilà! The flat cake was born, evolving over generations into the humble yet symbolic spécialité served in Provence during the holidays.
I remember Sabine offering me a slice. I was hesitant. Olive oil? In a cake? It seemed counterintuitive—like eating dessert with spoons, as my tablemates were doing. But as I took a bite, something magical happened. Perhaps it was Sabine’s smile or the warm hospitality that transformed my palate. By the time my tastebuds registered, I could honestly answer her question.
“Alors?” Sabine asked in her Provençal accent. “Tu aimes?”
“Yes. I love it!”
Years passed, and though I loved the cake, I never attempted to make it. Part of me believed only a dyed-in-the-wool Provençal woman could do justice to such a traditional recipe. But this week, curiosity (and courage) got the better of me.
I lined up the ingredients: olive oil, water, egg, grated orange peel, flour, sugar, salt, fleur d'oranger, and levain. After mixing the ingredients, I shaped the dough on a lined baking sheet, scoring decorative lines across the top with a knife. Into the oven it went (375F…20-25 minutes).
When the timer chimed, I opened the oven door, and a whoosh of warm, citrus-scented air enveloped me. There it was—a golden cake, its surface glistening faintly. Despite a few miscalculations, c’était réussi!
This first attempt turned out well! The lavender sprinkled on top must've been good luck!
But what about la Cène? For years, I had taken bread and wine (that is, grape juice) at church without fully understanding the meaning of this French term for the Last Supper. Each time the pastor said the word, I wondered: was it la Seine—the river in Paris? Or perhaps la saine (meaning "the healthy one")? Then again, could it be la scène (the stage)? I thought our visiting pastor might finally clear up the mystery, but his thick Scottish accent while speaking French only added to the kaleidoscope of possibilities for what this word could mean. Sin? Seen? Sane?
My confusion lingered until this week, when I stumbled upon la Pompe à l’Huile while researching the thirteen desserts of Noël. That’s when I came across the spelling of a word I had heard so often in church—la Cène. Suddenly, everything clicked: it was the Last Supper of Christ and His apostles!
How fitting that a humble cake, steeped in tradition, would finally unravel the mystery for me.
Don’t wait as long as I did to learn the meaning of certain French words, especially la Cène. And don't delay in trying this modest cake—it’s a lesson in simplicity, an authentic taste of Provence, and a slice of history all in one. Joyeuses Fêtes!
***
"Sacred Heart." Attempt number two at making la pompe à l'huile, the dough was firmer. I shaped it into a heart, for a look as sweet as the taste. This flat cake, sometimes referred to as Fougasse, and sometimes as crumbly at a scone (depending on whether you use baking powder or yeast?) is delicious with a morning cup of coffee or tea. The problem is, we’ve been snacking on it all day long! Here’s a simplified recipe for la pompe à l’huile—no kneading and less time required:
Simple Recipe for La Pompe à l’Huile
Ingredients:
- 250g (2 cups) all-purpose flour
- 75g (1/3 cup) sugar
- 1/4 tsp salt
- 1 tsp baking powder
- 60ml (1/4 cup) olive oil (preferably extra virgin)
- 60ml (1/4 cup) orange blossom water
- Zest of 1 orange
- 1 egg
- 1/4 cup warm water
Instructions:
- Preheat oven to 180°C (350°F). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Mix the dry ingredients: In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, salt, and baking powder.
- Prepare the wet ingredients: In a separate bowl, whisk together the olive oil, orange blossom water, orange zest, egg, and warm water.
- Combine the wet and dry ingredients: Gradually pour the wet mixture into the dry ingredients, stirring with a spoon until a soft dough forms.
- Shape the dough: Place the dough onto the prepared baking sheet and gently press it into a round, flat shape about 1.5 cm (1/2 inch) thick. Use a rolling pin if necessary. Use a knife to make a few decorative slashes across the surface.
- Bake: Bake for 20-25 minutes or until the edges are lightly golden. Let cool slightly before serving.
I made three pompes this past week. This third one had baking powder instead of yeast, which meant it did not need to rise before going into the oven. I forgot to include an egg and was surprised it turned out as good as it did (the third cake was Jean-Marc's favorite). I would love to know your ideas for additions to this cake. My sister, Heidi, suggested using almond flour. Let me know in the comments if what you would add.
COMMENTS
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I found this photo of a crèche Provençale in my photo archives. I’m not sure if it’s Sabine’s crèche or another, but it’s a beautiful example of their intricate beauty.
FRENCH VOCABULARY
Audio File Listen to Jean-Marc pronounce the following French terms
La Cène = The Last Supper
l’Almanach Provençal (m) = the Provençal Almanac
la pompe à l’huile = traditional Provençal olive oil cake
Le Gros Souper (m) = The Big Supper (for Christmas)
la montaigne Sainte-Victoire = Sainte-Victoire mountain
les santons (m) = traditional Provençal clay figurines
la boulangère = the baker
le chasseur = the hunter
l’homme ravi (m) = the delighted man
la crèche = nativity scene
l'étable (f) = stable, barn
la cocotte-minute = pressure cooker
le faisan = pheasant, game bird
la couronne = crown
le sapin = Christmas tree
alors? = well?
tu aimes? = do you like it?
fleur de l’oranger = orange blossom
le levain = leaven, sourdough starter
c’était réussi = it was a success
saine = healthy
la scène = the stage
Joyeuses Fêtes! = Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!
THANKS REMERCIEMENTS
With heartfelt appreciation to the following readers for their thoughtful donations to this blog, along with the encouraging notes!
Al K.
Julie C.
Linda F.
Linda C.
Karen B.
Elaine M.
Debbie E.
Theresa B.
Mille mercis, Kristi! —Julie
Merry Christmas from Virginia! —Karen
Joyeux Noël et bonne année Kristi! Amicalement, Al
Thanks for the years of enjoyment reading your blog. —Linda C.
Merci pour tout! J’adore l’Ollie. Happy holidays to you and your lovely family. Linda F.
Kristi , Merci beaucoup! Joyeux Noël et Bonne Année! Debbie from Canada
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