Far Breton

A dense, dark, eggy baked flan from Brittany, the firm vanilla batter set like a thick clafoutis around rum-soaked Agen prunes that sink into the custard and turn jammy at its burnished, butter-edged surface

Origin: Brittany, France

From the journey of Plum.

Far is one of the oldest dishes of Brittany, its name taken from the Latin far, the coarse wheat porridge of the Roman world, and in its earliest form it was exactly that: a savoury gruel of buckwheat or wheat flour boiled in a cloth, the everyday sustenance of Breton farm labourers. Over the centuries the porridge migrated towards the sweet, the cloth gave way to the oven, and eggs, milk, sugar, and butter turned a peasant staple into the dense baked flan known today, somewhere between a clafoutis and a baked custard, firm enough to slice yet trembling at its heart. The defining ingredient is the prune, and specifically the prune d'Agen, the dried plum of Gascony in France's south-west, made from the prune d'Ente (Prunus domestica) that the region has cultivated since the Middle Ages. That a Breton dessert should be built around a south-western fruit is no accident: dried prunes travelled and kept where fresh fruit could not, and they reached the Atlantic ports of Brittany along the same trade routes that carried salt, wine, and grain. Traditionally the prunes are plumped in tea, in rum, or in the local cider before baking, and the version studded with prunes, the far aux pruneaux, is so much the standard that the bare custard, far nature, is regarded almost as an incomplete thing. A fine far is recognised by its burnished, blistered top, its butter-darkened edges, and a body so dense that a slice holds its shape on the plate, eaten cool and unadorned as the homely, beloved Sunday cake of every Breton household.

Ingredients

Prunes

  • 200 g soft Agen prunes, stoned
  • 100 ml dark rum, strong tea, or Breton cider

Batter

  • 4 eggs
  • 150 g caster sugar
  • 150 g plain flour
  • 750 ml whole milk
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract
  • 1 pinch fine salt

To finish

  • 30 g unsalted butter, for the dish

Method

  1. Put the stoned prunes in a small bowl, pour over the rum, tea, or cider, and leave them to soak and plump for at least an hour, or overnight if you can.
  2. Heat the oven to 200°C (180°C fan). Generously butter a 24cm ceramic or metal baking dish, using a little extra so the edges of the far will fry and darken as it bakes.
  3. Whisk the eggs, sugar, vanilla, and salt together until pale and smooth. Sift in the flour and whisk to a thick, lump-free paste.
  4. Warm the milk gently, then pour it into the egg mixture in a slow stream, whisking constantly, until you have a thin, pourable batter. Stir in any leftover prune soaking liquor.
  5. Drain the prunes and scatter them evenly across the base of the buttered dish. Pour the batter carefully over them.
  6. Bake for 45 to 55 minutes, until the far is deeply set, puffed at the edges, and burnished dark gold across the top. It should wobble only faintly at the centre when nudged.
  7. Let the far cool completely in its dish; it will sink and firm as it sits. Serve at room temperature or chilled, cut into thick squares, with nothing more than a dusting of icing sugar if you wish.

Notes

The prune d'Agen is not interchangeable with any dried plum: its deep, almost caramel sweetness and supple flesh are what give the far its character, so seek out true Agen prunes (often labelled pruneaux d'Agen) rather than ordinary dried prunes where you can. Soaking in rum is the most common modern treatment, but tea was the older and more frugal choice, and Breton cider is the most regional of all. Some families add raisins alongside the prunes, others a spoonful of orange-flower water; both are accepted local variations. The batter is forgiving and needs no resting, which is part of the dish's enduring appeal as the unfussy, dependable dessert of the Breton week.

The Gastrographer

The Gastrographer

Mapping Culinary History

To explore — select an ingredient below.

Journey Point Map Key

Ingredient originTrade or transit route
Became a culinary stapleColonial / trade control
c. 1870 CE
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1870 CE
2000 BCE700 CE1500 CE1870 CE
Plum

Plum

Prunus domestica (European plum); Prunus salicina (Japanese plum); Prunus mume (ume, Chinese plum); Prunus cerasifera (cherry plum)

FruitsRosaceae

🌍Origin

South Caucasus and Caspian basin (European plum, Prunus domestica, and cherry plum, Prunus cerasifera); the Yangtze basin of China (ume, Prunus mume, and Japanese plum, Prunus salicina) — c. 2000 BCE (European plum, South Caucasus); ume cultivated in China by c. 1500 BCE

🌱Domestication

The plum is not one fruit but four, domesticated independently at the two opposite ends of the temperate Old World, and the word 'plum' conceals this multiplicity in a single deceptively simple syllable. The genus Prunus, which also gives the world the cherry, the peach, the apricot, and the almond, scattered its plum-bearing species across Eurasia, and human beings took up at least four of them. The European plum, Prunus domestica, is the great plum of the West, and it is a botanical curiosity: a hexaploid carrying six sets of chromosomes, almost certainly the offspring of a natural cross between the diploid cherry plum (Prunus cerasifera) and the tetraploid blackthorn or sloe (Prunus spinosa). This hybridisation is thought to have occurred in the South Caucasus and the lands south of the Caspian Sea, where the wild ranges of both parents overlap, and where the resulting fertile hexaploid was taken into cultivation perhaps four thousand years ago. From this single species descend an astonishing range of cultivated forms: the prune plums or pruneaux that dry without fermenting around the stone; the damsons (subspecies insititia), small, tart, and intensely flavoured; the green-gold gages, of which the greengage is the most celebrated; the golden mirabelles of Lorraine; and the blue-black quetsches and zwetschgen of Central Europe. The cherry plum, Prunus cerasifera, is the smaller, tarter cousin, native to the same Caucasian and Central Asian arc, and it is the sour plum of the Georgian and Persian kitchen: gathered green and unripe, it is the soul of sauces and stews rather than a fruit for the hand. At the far eastern edge of the genus's range, in the warm, wet basin of the Yangtze, the Chinese domesticated two more. Prunus mume, called mei in Chinese and ume in Japanese and usually rendered into English as the apricot-plum or Japanese apricot, is botanically nearer the apricot but culturally and culinarily a plum; it has been cultivated in China for well over three thousand years, grown as much for its blossom as for its hard, sour, golden fruit, which is never eaten fresh but salted, smoked, or steeped. Prunus salicina, the Japanese plum, despite its English name also originated in China; carried first to Japan and then, in the nineteenth century, to California, it became the large, juicy, round dessert plum that dominates the world's fresh-fruit trade today. Four species, two cradles, and a single English word: the plum is, more than almost any other fruit, a lesson in how geography hides inside a name.

Global Voyage

The plum travelled in two great streams that did not meet until the nineteenth century, when they finally converged in California. The western stream began in the Caucasus. The cherry plum and the early European plum spread south and west into the kitchens of antiquity: into Georgia, where the green sour plum became tkemali; into Persia, where the sour plum, the alu, became the defining note of the meat stew; and to Damascus, whose orchards gave their name to the damson, the 'plum of Damascus', that Roman soldiers and merchants carried back across the Mediterranean. Rome received the plum enthusiastically. Pliny the Elder, writing in the first century, marvelled at the 'great crowd of plums' (ingens turba prunorum) already in cultivation, and the prune entered Roman cookery as a sweet-sour foil to pork and game, a pairing recorded in the recipes attributed to Apicius. From Rome the European plum spread northward into Frankish and Germanic Europe, where it found its true heartland. Across a broad belt running from Lorraine and the Rhine through Bohemia, Austria, Hungary, Poland, and down into Serbia and the Balkans, the plum became the most important orchard fruit of the common people: dried for winter, boiled down to the dark, sugarless butter the Germans call Pflaumenmus and the Slavs povidl or pekmez, distilled into slivovitz and pálinka, and folded into dumplings, cakes, and preserves. Serbia and its neighbours remain, to this day, amongst the greatest plum-growing nations on earth. A separate Crusader-era branch carried a particular prune plum from Syria to the monks of Gascony, founding the prune d'Agen; another carried the cherry plum and the dried alu eastward along the Silk Road to Bukhara, whose name still rides on the 'alu Bukhara' of the Afghan, Pakistani, and North Indian kitchen. The Arab Mediterranean carried the prune westward to Morocco, where it sweetened the lamb tagine, and the gages and damsons crossed the Channel to England, where Sir Thomas Gage gave his name to the greengage around 1724. The eastern stream began in the Yangtze. The ume spread from China to Korea, where it became maesil, and to Nara Japan around the eighth century, carried with Buddhism; there, salted and sun-dried, it became umeboshi, the sour, scarlet pickle at the heart of the Japanese table, and, steeped in spirit and sugar, the liqueur umeshu. The Chinese themselves smoked and preserved the sour plum into wumei and brewed it into suanmeitang, the dark, cooling sour-plum drink of the imperial summer. The Japanese plum, Prunus salicina, completed the circle: carried from China to Japan over centuries, it was imported into California by the plant breeder Luther Burbank in 1885, whose Santa Rosa and dozens of sister cultivars made the United States, and then the Southern Hemisphere, the modern centre of fresh-plum growing. When the French prune d'Agen reached the same Californian valleys in 1856 in the baggage of Louis Pellier, the western and eastern streams of the plum's four-thousand-year journey at last ran together in a single orchard country.

🍽Modern Culinary Role

The plum is one of the most widely cultivated stone fruits on earth, and its production divides neatly along the ancient lines of its domestication. China is by a wide margin the world's largest producer, growing both the fresh Japanese plum (Prunus salicina) and the ume (Prunus mume) in enormous quantity. After China come Romania, Serbia, and the other plum nations of Central Europe and the Balkans, where the European plum (Prunus domestica) remains the orchard fruit of national identity: Serbia treats the plum (šljiva) as a near-sacred fruit, the basis of its national spirit, slivovitz, and the centrepiece of its preserves and dumplings. The United States, chiefly California, grows the fresh dessert plum and the great bulk of the world's dried prunes, the latter descended directly from the prune d'Agen of France. Culinarily the plum keeps its four identities distinct. The European plum is the baking and preserving fruit of the West: the zwetschgenkuchen of Germany, the plum tart of Alsace, the dumplings of Hungary and Bohemia, the powidl and pekmez of the whole Central European belt, the damson cheese and greengage of England, and the prune that sweetens the tagines of Morocco and the stews of Persia and Ashkenazi Europe. The cherry plum, gathered green, remains the sour heart of Georgian tkemali and the Caucasian and Persian sauce tradition. The ume is never eaten as a fresh fruit at all: across China, Japan, and Korea it is salted into umeboshi, steeped into umeshu and maesil syrup, and brewed into suanmeitang, valued as much for digestion and preservation as for flavour. And the Japanese plum is the round, sweet, juicy fruit of the modern supermarket, eaten fresh out of hand across both hemispheres. Few fruits carry so many separate culinary lives under one name, and fewer still bridge, as the plum does, the cuisines of Tbilisi and Tokyo, of Belgrade and Beijing.

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