Lemon yogurt cake

Whoever said that sense of smell is the sense most closely linked to human memory has never met my husband. The man is rapidly approaching middle age, yet can still recall in vivid detail the after-school snacks (an institution here in France called le goûter) his grandmother prepared for him as a child. He has tried, without much success, to replicate her light, airy crèpes, her melt-in-your-mouth mantecao sugar cookies, or her famous yogurt cake. With a faraway, wistful look on his face, he always tastes these desserts and sighs, "It's not quite the same as Mémé's."

After months of experimenting, I've finally found a yogurt cake recipe that measures up to Mémé's high standards. Even Sébastien agrees that this cake has it all: the yogurt keeps it moist, it's airy but still packed with flavor, and it's sweet without being too sugary (Seb even eats it for breakfast!). The best part? You can use your yogurt cup to measure out nearly all the other ingredients -- which means fewer dishes to do at the end!

Mémé's yogurt cake

Serves 6-8

1 small pot of plain yogurt

3 empty yogurt pots of self-rising flour

2 empty yogurt pots of sugar

1/2 empty yogurt pot of oil or melted butter

3 eggs

1 pinch salt

1 tsp vanilla extract

2 lemons

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F. Whisk together the yogurt and the eggs, then use the empty yogurt pot to measure the proper quantities of flour, sugar and oil or butter. Add these to the egg-yogurt mix and stir until smooth. Add the salt and vanilla, then the zest and the juice of the two lemons. Stir until mixed. Pour the batter into an 8-inch round pan and bake for approximately 30 minutes, or until the top is golden but not browned.

I like to top this cake with a sprinkling of powdered sugar and a few thin slices of lemon to decorate. If you're not a fan of citrus fruits, you could also make a chocolate version of this cake by leaving out the lemon and replacing it with 4 ounces of melted dark chocolate in the batter.

Le Temps des Cerises 2: Balsamic Cherry Glaze

As I described in my last post, it's cherry season here in France, and this year I'm determined to take advantage of it to the maximum. After you've mastered the cherry clafoutis, I suggest you dare to try cherries in a savory recipe: balsamic cherry glaze, a sauce that will accompany pork chops, lamb or duck to perfection.

For those wary of salty-sweet combinations, have no fear: this sauce retains the flavor of cherries without any of their sweetness, which is why I find it to be such a great pairing with meat. It's fast to prepare, but still looks impressive when served - an unbeatable combination.

Balsamic cherry glaze

Serves 6

2 Tbsp. butter

1 shallot, minced

1 Tbsp. thyme (preferably fresh, but dried would work as well)

2 cups cherries, pitted and halved

1/4 cup balsamic vinegar

salt, white pepper

In a small saucepan, melt the butter over medium low heat. Add the shallot and thyme and sautée until the shallot is transparent, 3 to 4 minutes. Add the cherries and the vinegar and stir, cooking until the vinegar thickens and becomes syrupy. Season to taste with salt and white pepper and serve hot.

I served this sauce over pork chops, accompanied with thick slices of polenta, and earned rave reviews from Sébastien. I hope you'll enjoy it just as much. Bon appetit!

Le Temps des Cerises 1: Cherry Clafoutis

Once upon a time (or, OK, just last August), I posted a recipe for wild berry clafoutis. As I described in that first post, clafoutis is a dense, crustless cake that comes from the Limousin region of France. I've since learned that clafoutis is actually just crèpe batter, poured in a thick layer over fruits and baked instead of cooked in a crèpe pan.

Whatever its composition, clafoutis is delicious. It's sweet without being cloying, rich without being overpowering, and it's just as popular for breakfast as it is for dessert here. Although you can make it with any number of fruits, the classic clafoutis is, and will always be, cherry.

Which brings me to my French lesson of the day. Here in France, cherry season is celebrated as a sure sign of summer's arrival, to the point where that brief moment when the cherry trees put forth their fruit even bears its own name: le temps des cerises, literally "the time of cherries." It's taken on more euphemistic meanings over the years - it can be used to refer to a young girl in the flower of youth, and is even the name of France's most popular denim brand - but it always conjures up images of early summer sunshine and cherry branches heavy with fruit. The season is short, so it is essential to make the most of this ephemeral treat while it's available. For this reason, I'll be posting cherry recipes as often as I can in the next few days, and I hope you can take advantage before the season is over wherever you are.

I'll start you off with this classic before moving on to somewhat more adventurous territory in the days to come :)

Cherry Clafoutis

Serves 6-8

1 1/2 pounds cherries, washed but NOT destoned

2 heaping Tbsp. flour
1 heaping Tbsp. almond meal / powder
1 pinch salt

3 eggs

1/2 cup sugar

2 cups milk

optional: 1 tsp. vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Butter a 8- or 9-inch round pan (attention: NOT a pie pan; you'll need something with higher, vertical sides like the one pictured above), then scatter the cherries in the bottom of the pan. In a separate bowl, stir together the flour, almond meal, salt, and sugar; then whisk in the eggs, the milk, and if you're using it, vanilla. When the batter is smooth, pour it over the cherries and place in the oven for 30 to 45 minutes. The cake has finished baking when the top is golden brown but still trembles slightly in the center. Place on a rack to cool; serve warm or cold, sprinkled with powdered sugar or with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

In place of or in addition to the vanilla extract, you could also add a bit of bitter almond extract, which I find works well with the flavor of the cherries. Clafoutis is traditionally made with whole cherries, with the stones still in; this gives it a richer and more authentic taste. If you're serving small children or impatient adults, though, you could always destone the cherries beforehand. Bon appetit!

Make-your-own stock

Here's a quick way to do something good for the environment AND for your cuisine: make your own bouillon. I came across an Alton Brown recipe for chicken stock this winter, and the idea of having vegetables and chicken bubbling merrily on my stove just seemed so domestic and charming that I couldn't resist. (Oh, unemployment, what have you done to me?) So I trotted out to the local boucherie / epicerie and bought some chicken necks and drumsticks, a basket full of mixed vegetables and herbs, and hurried home to get started on my bouillon project. Sébastien watched, warily, as I arrived back at the house, arms loaded with groceries. He continued watching as I washed and peeled my vegetables, threw everything into a pot, boiled for a few hours, and then - gasp - threw everything away. No, if you're wondering, the bouillon wasn't bad - it was delicious. I kept all the liquid, of course, and used it in nearly every recipe for weeks afterwards. But when you're done making bouillon, you're supposed to throw away the chicken bits and the vegetables. Sébastien was horrified. "What a waste!" he cried ("quel gâchis!" in case you were wondering, in French). And upon reflection, he was right. What is the point in buying bags of fresh vegetables, only to throw them away?

Well, I think I've found the solution. Following the suggestion of the eco-friendly Seattle-area restaurant Café Flora, I've started stowing all my vegetable peelings in the freezer. Every time you find yourself peeling carrots or potatoes, slicing celery, mincing onion, or even using fresh parsley garnishes, save EVERYTHING that you don't use. Of course, this means you need to thoroughly wash your vegetables before peeling them, but that's not too much of a hardship, is it? Nearly all vegetables work - leeks, potatoes, celery, carrots, and onions are my favorites - but you should avoid anything with too much color or flavor, such as beets (pink bouillon would not be appetizing), green onions or asparagus. What's really great about making your own bouillon is that you can use all the parts of vegetables that you would normally throw away: the leafy tops of leeks or celery, that hard outer layer of onion, the stems of parsley, etc. If you're not a vegetarian, the carcass of a chicken adds a richer texture and a lot of flavor.

I recommend not seasoning your bouillon with salt or pepper, since you can do that later when you're actually using it in a recipe.

Homemade chicken or vegetable stock

Makes approx. 1 gallon

Approximately 6 cups mixed vegetable peelings: carrots, leeks, celery, onions, potatoes. (I use a 1-gallon freezer bag and make stock as soon as it's full, so the "6 cups" is just a suggestion. The more vegetables you put in, the richer the flavor will be.)

1 chicken carcass (optional)

1 gallon water

1 bay leaf

5-6 parsley stems

Put all ingredients in a large pot; bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium low and simmer for at least one hour and up to three hours. (The longer, the better!) Skim as needed to remove froth. When stock is finished, strain into a large bowl and allow to cool at room temperature. Once stock has cooled, you can either store it in the refrigerator for a few days, or you can freeze it (I recommend freezing it in ice cube trays for easy dosing) for a few months. Bon appetit!

Cool chocolate cream

Let's launch this post with a little French lesson. Repeat after me: pots de crème. (pronunciation: poh duh krehm.) And voila! You've just learned a new phrase in French. Stroll down the yogurt aisle in any French grocery store, and you're sure to find pots de crème everywhere. Tiny glass cups, filled with thick, rich creams in flavors ranging from pistachio to crème brulée. The only drawback is that they're usually packed with calories and fat - after all, the main ingredient is cream. Well, I'm not sure how this recipe works, but somehow it manages to combine practically nothing more than dark chocolate and 2% milk for a result that's irresistibly creamy and rich.

Although these can be enjoyed warm, they're equally delicious chilled and served with a spot of whipped cream on top.

Cool Chocolate Cream

Makes 8 small cups

4 cups milk (I used 2%, and it worked perfectly)

9 oz. dark chocolate

1/2 cup flour

1/2 cup sugar

1 Tbsp. butter

In a large saucepan over low heat, melt the chocolate with approximately 1/4 cup of the milk. When the mixture is completely liquid, remove from heat and stir in the sugar and the flour. Replace the saucepan over low heat and add the remaining milk. Stir the mixture constantly until it has thickened and rises to a boil two or three times. Remove from heat and stir in the butter, then pour into individual glass cups and allow to cool at room temperature. Once the creams are cool, place them in the refrigerator until serving.

As you can see, this is a very simple recipe - ideal if you're in a hurry, since everything can come together in about 15 minutes (except the time for cooling). You can experiment with toppings - crushed nuts, cocoa powder, or shredded coconut could all be great options. Bon appetit!

Gazpacho / Gaspacho!

This is ostensibly a blog about French cuisine, so you may be wondering what I'm doing featuring what may be THE most well-known Spanish dish. Well, despite what some French politicians would have you believe (ahem, Brice Hortefeux, ahem), France is very much a product of immigration. Especially here in the south, the culinary culture shows heavy Italian, Spanish, and North African influences. And my mother-in-law's family originally comes from Andalucia, the birthplace of gazpacho -- so we'll say this post goes out to her. In any case, gazpacho has somewhat questionable origins: some say it came to the Iberian peninsula with the Moors in the 8th century as a bread-and-olive-oil soup; others say it was originally Roman. Whatever its roots, today gazpacho is thought of as authentically Andalucian and is wildly popular here in France.

My husband, Sébastien, is a huge fan of gazpacho. As soon as the temperatures rise above freezing, he starts begging me to make a batch. (And considering we live in the south of France, that's about 11.5 months out of the year.) Although there are a number of competing recipes, most have in common the basic ingredients: fresh, ripe tomatoes, cucumbers, olive oil, onions, and garlic. Some recipes will add in bell peppers, hot peppers, bread, and tabasco -- it's all a question of taste. What I'm posting here is my personal favorite (and Seb's favorite!), though I'll try to add a few ideas for modifications at the end. The best part about this soup is that it requires no cooking whatsoever - save a bit of boiling water for removing the tomato skins - so it's ideal for those days so hot you can't even bear thinking of turning on the oven.

Gazpacho

Serves 4-6

6 ripe tomatoes

1 cucumber

1 small onion

1 clove garlic

4 drops Tabasco

1/4 cup olive oil

2 Tbsp. sherry vinegar (or red wine vinegar)

Salt and pepper

Peel the tomatoes (using the method described here) and remove their seeds. The easiest way to do this is to cut the tomatoes in half, gently squeeze each half, and scrape away the seeds that come out. Then cut the tomatoes into small chunks. Peel and cut the cucumber into small chunks as well, followed by the onion and the garlic. Put all the vegetables into the bowl of a blender and add the liquid ingredients: Tabasco, oil, and vinegar. Season with salt and pepper, cover, and blend until smooth. Transfer the gazpacho into a large bowl and refrigerate until very cold. Serve the same day, if possible.

This is my go-to gazpacho recipe; it's quick, it's refreshing, and most importantly, it's simple! The one drawback of the blender is that it sometimes leaves you with a soup that's a bit frothy; this can be remedied by mixing your gazpacho with a mortar and pestle (the old-fashioned way) - but let's just say that it's not quite as speedy as this recipe. For a creamier result, add a slice or two of white bread (crusts cut off) that you've let soak in the vinegar and olive oil for a quarter hour or so. If you're a big fan of bell peppers, feel free to add one - just don't forget to remove the skin beforehand. I like to serve this in tiny cups during cocktail parties or as and hors-d'oeuvre, but it also makes a great appetizer or even a main dish. Bon appetit!

Quiche of the week: cucumber - goat cheese

Please excuse me for the long absence! A certain writing project got in the way of this blog, but I promise to post more regularly this summer. Since my last post, summer has definitely arrived here on the Cote d'Azur, and it's easy to reflect the seasonal changes in my cooking. Gone are the endives and leeks, meat stews and cream sauces of winter. Now, all we're craving is fraîcheur - fresh fruits and vegetables, salads, and anything cool.

Luckily, I've even found a way to summer-ize the classic quiche, meaning that you don't have to put your quiche pans away for summer. By serving the quiche cold and topping it with marinated cucumber, you can be sure to please your guests on even the hottest summer days.

Marinated Cucumber - Goat cheese quiche

Serves 6-8

-1 pie crust

-6 1/2 grams goat cheese

-3/4 cup unsweetened condensed milk

-1 clove garlic, minced

-3 eggs

-1/2 cucumber

-1/2 white onion

-1 Tbsp. olive oil

-fresh dill

-1 lime

-1 tsp. raw sugar

-1/2 cup water

-salt, pepper

1. Preheat your oven to 425 degrees F.
2. Peel the cucumber and scrape out the seeds. Cut it into thin strips, approximately 2.5 inches long. In a large bowl, mix the olive oil, the juice of the lime, the dill and the garlic. Season with salt and pepper, then add the cucumber and stir to coat. Cover and place in the refrigerator.
3. Mince the onion. Sautée it in a frying pan with the water and the sugar until the water is completely evaporated and the onion has caramelized.
4. Mix the condensed milk with half of the goat cheese and the eggs, then add the caramelized onion. Cut the remaining goat cheese into small pieces and set aside.
5. Place the crust in a quiche pan and pour in the egg - condensed milk mixture. Sprinkle the remaining goat cheese on top and bake it in the oven for approximately 20 minutes. Allow to cool at room temperature.
6. Just before serving, drain the cucumber strips and arrange them in circles on top of your quiche.

This is a visually impressive quiche that tastes just as good as it looks. Would work well as a light lunch with a tomato salad on the side, or cut into small squares as finger food at a cocktail party or barbecue. Bon appetit!