French Lessons

Lemon yogurt cake

2010-10-17T03:37:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-27T15:03:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-26T13:18:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-13T01:45:00.001-07:00

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

2010-05-31T15:05:00.000-07:00

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!

2010-05-29T01:30:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-26T01:16:00.001-07:00

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

Preheat your oven to 425 degrees F.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!

Melting Chocolate Cake

2010-04-25T15:28:00.000-07:00

If there's one thing the French are undeniably good at, it's dessert. Think of all the classics to come out of the hexagone - crème brulée, pots de crème, mousse, tarte tatin, éclairs... and the list goes on. But after a few years of serious and devoted study, I've come to realize that there is only one dessert that finds itself, unfailingly, on every restaurant's menu: fondant au chocolat, or melting chocolate cake. They come in different shapes and sizes, but they have one thing in common: they're so good that you have to hold yourself back from licking your plate.

I've been searching around for the perfect recipe, and I think I've finally found it. I should note that in France, these chocolate cakes come in two varieties. The first is usually individual-sized, and has a chewy chocolate crust around a literally "melting" liquid core. The second, and the one that I have here, has a more uniform texture - one so rich and smooth that the entire cake will just melt in your mouth.

As a sidenote, I realize that this cake is mostly butter. But stick to a small slice, go for a walk afterwards, and don't worry - once you taste it, your waistline will be the last thing on your mind.

Melting Chocolate Cake
Serves 6-8

7 oz. dark chocolate (I used Lindt 70% cocoa baking chocolate, and it was ideal)
13 Tbsp unsalted butter
5 eggs
1 Tbsp flour
1/2 to 3/4 cup sugar

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. In a large bowl, melt the chocolate and the butter in the microwave. Stir in 1/2 cup sugar and let the mixture cool slightly. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing the batter with a spoon after the addition of each egg. Add the spoonful of flour and stir the mixture until it is smooth. Taste and, if you desire, add the additional 1/4 cup sugar.
Pour the batter into a lightly greased round pan, approximately 8 inches in diameter. Bake for 22 minutes; the cake should still tremble slightly in the center when you remove it from the oven. Let the cake cool before serving - if you can wait!

Bon appetit!

Riste d'aubergine

2010-04-16T08:32:00.001-07:00

OK, so I know that judging from the photo above, this may not look like the most appetizing recipe ever. But trust me when I say that this is a case of looks being deceiving.

Riste d'aubergine is a traditional vegetable dish here in Provence. It comes from the city of Arles, famous for its long history (populated for over 2500 years!), its Roman arena, and, well, its cuisine. Arlésiens (that's the official name for residents of Arles) know how to eat: long-grain rice from the neighboring Camargue, cauldrons of steaming bouillabaisse, stews chock full of tender chunks of bull simmered for hours, and my personal favorite, riste d'aubergine. This side dish features, of course, aubergine -- eggplant -- cooked for a few hours over very low heat with typical provencal spices, tomatoes, and onion. It's a close cousin to another famous French vegetable mix, ratatouille, but has a much more prevalent eggplant flavor and is much simpler thanks to the fact that you don't have to worry about roasting bell peppers beforehand.

Although this recipe calls for the eggplant to be cooked for two hours, you'll find there's not much work to do after the first 15 minutes or so. I recommend doubling the recipe, because you'll find that once cooked, you can do whatever you want with riste d'aubergine. Warm, it makes the perfect side dish to poultry, red meat or fish. Cool and topped with a drizzle of olive oil, you could serve it as an appetizer to a summer dinner party. Although I've never attempted it, I've been dreaming of following a recipe I saw online that suggested layering riste d'aubergine,

fresh goat cheese and lasagna noodles for a fresh, springy take on lasagna. A final suggestion is to thoroughly sterilize conserve jars (like Mason jars, or even empty pots of jam), fill them with cooled riste d'aubergine, pop on a grosgrain ribbon and a homemade label, and then give them as adorable walk-in gifts the next time you're invited to dinner.

Without further ado, the recipe:

Riste d'aubergine

Serves 4 (as a side dish)

1 large eggplant, or 2 medium sized eggplants

5 roma tomatoes

1 small to medium onion, minced

1 clove garlic, minced

1 bay leaf

olive oil

thyme, rosemary, salt, pepper

Begin by removing the tomato skins. To do so, cut a shallow "x" in the base of each of the tomatoes, then drop them into rapidly boiling water for about 10 seconds. Then, drain the tomatoes and immediately run them under cold water. The skins should peel off easily. Cut peeled tomatoes into small chunks.
Peel the eggplant(s) and scrape away the seeds. Cut into small chunks.
In a large frying pan or wok, heat a few spoonfuls of olive oil over medium low heat. Add eggplant, onion, garlic, tomatoes, and bay leaf. Season generously with herbs, salt and pepper.
Let the vegetables cook over low heat for approximately two hours, stirring occasionally. Taste and adjust seasoning accordingly. If the vegetables look dry, add a a bit of olive oil or cover.

And that's it! Enjoy your culinary voyage to Arles, and bon appetit!

Simply delicious beet salad

2010-04-05T06:10:00.000-07:00

As you may have witnessed in my last few posts, I'm going through a major love affair with beets. I haven't yet built up the courage to buy my own fresh-picked beets and roast them at home in the oven, but for these simple recipes, store-bought, pre-roasted beets will work just fine.

In any case, it was the end of the week, and our fridge was nearly empty. I needed something light and healthy to make as an appetizer for Sébastien and myself, so I grabbed what was left on the bottom shelves -- a package of beets, one plain greek yogurt, and a bundle of chives. A simple, but promising start. I hesitated about the greek yogurt, since salads here in France are almost inevitably served with some kind of vinaigrette, but I thought that a cool, creamy yogurt sauce would be a nice change. (Sébastien, predictably, complained a bit when he saw his plate - "You know, Flora, beet salads should be served with a vinaigrette" - but he changed his tune once he tasted my creation.) I think you'll agree.

I made two individual salads, with the greek yogurt served on the side in a small glass dish; this could also make a delicious hors d'oeuvre for a cocktail party, with the beets cut into cubes and speared with toothpicks and a larger bowl of the yogurt sauce on the side. The sauce could also be used for other occasions - it would make a nice topping for baked potatoes or as a dipping sauce for other raw vegetables.

Beet salad with creamy chive sauce
Serves 2

3 beets
1 small container greek yogurt (approx. 6 oz.)
fresh chives, chopped into 1/4-inch pieces
salt and pepper

Slice the beets into thin slices and arrange on two plates. Spoon greek yogurt into a bowl and season to taste with fresh chives, salt and pepper. Mix well. Sprinkle remaining chives over beet slices. Serve beets with yogurt sauce drizzled over the top, or served in a small bowl to the side.

And really -- it's that easy. Bon appetit!

A Corsican classic: fiadone

2010-03-25T08:26:00.000-07:00

Corsica is, technically, French. It's been part of France since 1769, and today is counted as one of the 26 administrative regions of the country. Officially, then, its cuisine falls under the auspices of this blog.

But in reality, Corsica is a case apart. It's geographically isolated - floating in the middle of the Mediterranean, closer to Italy than to France - and it's an intimidating little island, with sharp, craggy mountains that plunge from dizzying heights directly into the sea. For centuries, the surrounding countries and peoples have been fighting for control of Corsica. It has been passed from the Greeks to Etruscans to Romans to Vandals to Visigoths to Saracens to Lombards to Genoese (multiple times) and to Ottomans, with only a brief but glorious period of independence under Pasquale Paoli from 1755 to 1769. To avoid the invaders, who rarely ventured beyond the coast, the native Corsicans took refuge in the mountains that cover the majority of the island.

Isolated in the mountains, the Corsican people have developed a very particular mentality. They are fiercely proud and would never call themselves "French" - only "Corsican." They speak their own language, Corsu, a Latin language heavily influenced by French and Italian. When rich French mainlanders build expensive vacation homes in Corsica, they take great pleasure in blowing them up each summer just before the vacationers arrive. They are known for being unwelcoming and impolite to tourists - which doesn't prevent anyone in France from taking advantage of the island's beauty.

But what is most notable about Corsica, in my opinion, is the food. Their cuisine is entirely unique, mainly due to certain aspects of the island itself. As I said, it's very mountainous, but also very dry and with a soil not at all conducive to agriculture. Wheat will not grow anywhere on the island, so none of their traditional dishes are made with wheat flour. Instead, they make flour from chestnuts, which grow on enormous, centennial chestnut trees in dense green forests in the central valleys. The island also cannot support large livestock like cows, so all of their dairy products are made from sheep's and goat's milk. And the island's vegetation gives a very particular taste to these sheep and goats. Corsica is well-known in France for its maquis, the wild underbrush that grows almost everywhere on the island. Full of fragrant plants and aromatics like myrtle, heather, filaria, rockrose, and wild strawberries, the maquis is the base of every animal's diet and perfumes every Corsican product. The cheeses and charcuteries that you find in Corsica can't be replicated anywhere else in the world.

Which brings me to the first of what will hopefully become a series of Corsican recipes: fiadone. This is a dense, not-too-sweet cake that is a favorite of Sébastien's and a standard on any Corsican restaurant's dessert menu. It has a hint of lemon, but the main ingredient in the cake is brocciu, a fresh Corsican whey cheese made from sheep's or goat's milk. If you happen to live near a specialty grocer, you may be able to find brocciu or brousse, its continental French equivalent; if not, you can substitute ricotta.

Corsican fiadone
Serves 6-8
About 4 1/2 cups (500 grams) ricotta, brocciu or brousse
5 eggs
3/4 cup sugar
zest of 1 lemon
optional: 1 Tbsp. brandy/cognac

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Spoon the cheese into a bowl and smash it with a fork, making it as smooth as possible. Add the eggs and stir them into the cheese. Add the sugar and the lemon zest, and if you'd like, the alcohol. Stir until smooth. Pour the batter into a greased, round or square baking dish (about the size of a pie pan). Bake for 30-45 minutes, or until the top of the cake is golden brown and a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.

Fiadone is traditionally served cold, but some restaurants will serve it warm. The cake should remain dense and should not rise.

You may have to adjust the quantity of sugar to your tastes - some recipes call for up to 1 1/2 cups - but I found 3/4 cup to be more than sufficient. Bon appetit!

Colorful beet verrines

2010-03-23T13:19:00.000-07:00

Signs of spring are popping up everywhere here in France: the mimosas and almond trees are in bloom, birds are chirping everywhere, and the road leading up to our house is dotted left and right with brilliant purple flowers. But despite the sunshine and blue skies, temperatures are cool, and I know that tropical drinks with parasols on the beach are still months away. To keep me sane while waiting for the month of June to arrive, I've been trying to add more color to our plates while still serving seasonally-appropriate dishes.

Up this week are beets, a root vegetable that doesn't often get the respect it deserves. They're great for you - high in fiber, folic acid, calcium and iron - and let's face it, how many other pink vegetables can you name? I love them not only for their color, but for their slightly sweet taste that make them the perfect addition to any hors d'oeuvre. Here, I pair them with light, fluffy goat cheese - an ideal combination, in my opinion - and top them off with a few chunks of orange to add more color.

Sébastien did not appreciate the orange, and said derisively, "It's a citrus fruit! Citrus should never be served with cheese!" He's French, so he's probably right. Together we brainstormed up a few other ideas - namely dried apricots or golden raisins - that could replace the orange. Reader suggestions are eagerly accepted.

Beet verrines
Serves 6

2-3 packaged, pre-roasted beets
1/4 cup olive oil
3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1 teaspoon honey
salt and pepper
1 5-oz. log fresh goat cheese
2-3 tablespoons half and half or milk
1-2 tablespoons fresh chives
1 orange (OR apricots OR golden raisins)

Chop the beets into small cubes. In a bowl, whisk together olive oil, vinegar and honey; add salt and pepper to taste. Add beets to the vinaigrette, stir until beets are well coated, and set aside to marinate.
In another bowl, combine goat cheese, milk or half and half, and chives. Stir together using a fork. Continue adding milk or half and half until the mixture reaches a creamy, uniform consistency.
Peel the orange and separate the segments. Using a knife or fingers, carefully remove all strings and membranes from the orange flesh. Cut into bite-size pieces.
Using a slotted spoon, remove the beets from the vinaigrette and place in the bottom of 6 verrines - small glasses used to serve hors d'oeuvres or appetizers. Top the beets with a spoonful of goat cheese, then add the fruit garnish.

I, personally, found the orange very inoffensive and would serve it again. Next time, though, I think I'll try out the dried apricots to appease my demanding husband.

Also, it's not very complicated to buy raw beets and to peel and roast them yourself -- but it's obviously easiest to use pre-cooked beets. Bon appetit!

Salmon and Leeks: a match made in heaven

2010-03-07T10:19:00.001-08:00

Keeping with the theme of my last post about endives, this week I'm featuring another fantastic winter vegetable: the leek. Although slightly less polyvalent than endives - I, for one, have never eaten raw leeks - they have one major advantage in the fact that they are adorable (see above picture). A close relation to the onion, leeks are wonderfully aromatic and can be used to flavor soups or stock. But personally, my favorite use of leeks is as an accompaniment to salmon.

The very first meal that Sébastien cooked for me was a salmon steak on a bed of fondue de poireaux - literally, "melted leeks." He had chopped the leeks into tiny rounds, then let them soften for a half an hour over low heat on the stove; just before serving, he had stirred in a spoonful of crème fraîche and seasoned with salt and pepper. All this, though, I didn't know until much later. At the time, I was marveling over the pale green vegetable that was so perfectly synergistic with my salmon, so creamy and smooth that I almost couldn't identify it.

Since then, leeks have become a staple in my winter cooking. That very same fondue de poireaux can be an elegant side dish accompanying a salmon steak; a quick week-night dinner with chunks of smoked salmon stirred in; or even the filling for a quiche, as I'll show in the following recipes. So stock up on leeks and read on.

Baked salmon steaks and leek fondue

Serves 2

2 salmon steaks

4 leeks

1/2 cup white wine

1/2 cup crème fraîche

fresh dill

lemon juice

salt, pepper, olive oil

1 Tbsp. dijon mustard (optional)

SALMON STEAKS:

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Generously grease an oven-safe dish with olive oil. Place the salmon steaks in the dish; pour over white wine and season with lemon juice (the juice of approximately 1/4 lemon per steak). Brush a thick layer of crème fraîche on each salmon steak. Top with fresh dill and salt and pepper to taste. Place in the oven for approximately 15 minutes, depending on the thickness of the salmon.

LEEK FONDUE:

Thoroughly wash the leeks. Cut off the roots and the dark green leaves, keeping only the white and light green parts of the stalks. Slice in half, then into thin rounds. Place leeks into a large frying pan with olive oil over low heat and allow to cook, stirring frequently, for 20 to 30 minutes. Just before removing from heat, stir in a heaping spoonful of crème fraîche or heavy cream (approximately 1/4 cup), and if you would like, a tablespoon of dijon mustard. Season with salt and pepper and serve.

As I suggested in the introduction to this post, you could also make an easy weeknight dinner by adding chunks of smoked salmon to the leek fondue and serving as-is, or over pasta.

Another option is to use the leek fondue in a quiche - still paired with salmon, of course! Read on for the recipe.

Salmon-leek quiche

Serves 4 as a main dish, 6-8 as an appetizer

1 round pastry crust (Sébastien recently revealed that he doesn't like my home-made crust, so I won't go touting my recipe as of yet....)

4 eggs

1 cup milk

1/2 cup crème fraîche or cream

4 leeks

4 slices smoked salmon, or enough to cover the bottom of the quiche

1 handful finely shredded cheese of your choice (I used gruyère)

salt, pepper, olive oil, dried chives or dill

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.
Roll pastry crust out into a quiche pan and poke the bottom of the crust several times with a fork.
Prepare the leeks as described in the above recipe for "leek fondue": wash, remove dark green leaves and roots, and cut into small rounds. Let melt over low heat for 20-30 minutes. Do NOT add cream at the end. Set aside.
Cut the salmon into chunks and disperse around the bottom of the pastry crust.
In a large bowl, whisk together eggs, cream, milk, and shredded cheese. Season with salt, pepper, and your choice of chives or dill.
Spread the cooked leeks in the quiche on top of the salmon.
Pour over the egg mixture, making sure that the cheese is evenly distributed.
Place in the oven for 20-25 minutes, or until the top of the quiche is golden brown.

This quiche comes out thick and fluffy, and makes a fantastic appetizer or main dish. Serve with a green salad for a balanced meal. And, of course, bon appetit!

Endive-beet salad

2010-02-26T03:13:00.001-08:00

Winter can be a difficult season for produce. In summer, fresh fruits and salads are everywhere - our fig tree is bursting with fruit, our neighbor never fails to drop by with a crate of beefsteak tomatoes, cucumber salads are on every menu - and let's face it, it's so hot here in summer that you don't really want to eat anything else. But in winter, things are less obvious. In the grocery store, you can still find summer vegetables, but they're rock-hard and strangely discolored, flown in from improbable locations around the globe. You wake up one day in February thinking, "For the last four months, everything I've eaten has been doused in cream or butter sauce, and I don't even remember the last time I ate a salad."

Enter the endive. Their peak season runs from November to April, so they're ideal from breaking you out of your winter salad funk. Endives are surprisingly versatile for what is essentially just a head of lettuce; they can be eaten raw in any number of salads, garnished with seafood or cheese for elegant hors d'oeuvres, baked in gratins, or simply sautéed.

Here, I pair the slightly bitter endive with beets and a dijon vinaigrette, which I find to be a perfect combination. I'll post later with another endive salad idea if you're not a fan of beets, but I highly suggest you try this salad before making any judgments. It's the perfect opener for any winter meal.

Endive-beet salad
serves 4

4 endives
4 beets
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
8 tablespoons olive oil
1-2 teaspoons dijon mustard
salt and pepper

In a large bowl, whisk together mustard and vinegar until smooth. Add olive oil gradually and continue whisking. Once the dressing is well mixed, taste and adjust proportions of vinegar, oil and mustard. Add salt and pepper to taste.
Cut the beets into small cubes. Add them to the dressing and set aside to marinate.
Rinse the endives thoroughly. Cut off the hard bottoms of each head; set aside a few outside leaves for a garnish. Cut the remaining endives in half, then in small rounds. Discard any leaves that seem wilted or tough.
Just before serving, arrange endive leaf garnishes on individual salad plates and top with chopped endive. Spoon beets and sauce over each salad.

Feel free to play with the salad dressing proportions; in general, you should have a 1:4 ratio of vinegar to oil. And be careful when adding mustard; a little goes a long way. Bon appetit!

Cuisses de poulet

2010-02-17T10:21:00.001-08:00

A whole, oven-roasted chicken is a Sunday afternoon classic here in France. Grocery stores often have a large section devoted exclusively to poultry - "la volaillerie" - and an entire case is usually bursting with every possible variety of whole chicken. Each label proudly proclaims that their region is the best: Landes chicken, from the southwest, bears the red label indicating quality; Bresse chicken, from the east, has the distinction of being the only livestock with an AOC designation. So yes, the French are serious about their chicken.

Roasting a chicken is not a complicated affair, so why, you might ask, is this a recipe just for chicken legs? Two reasons: first, it saves time. A well-roasted chicken needs at least two hours in the oven, and that is not always an option on week nights. Secondly, cooking chicken parts individually allows you to control portions. Whenever I make a whole chicken, a lot goes to waste - so I've taken to buying just enough for the two of us.

I enjoy buying "cuisses de poulet," which is the entire leg, drumstick and thigh still attached. I'd imagine that this recipe would work equally well with breasts, wings or the part of your choice. Just make sure that it include the bones and the skin.

Cuisses de poulet
Serves 2

2 chicken legs, with bones and skin
2 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 cup dry white wine
herbes de provence, salt, pepper

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Place the chicken legs in an oven-safe dish. Little by little, pour the olive oil onto a pastry or basting brush and brush onto the chicken, making sure to cover thoroughly. Pour over the white wine, then season generously with herbes de provence, salt and pepper.
Place in the oven for approximately 40 minutes, basting frequently.

Serve with potatoes and the vegetable of your choice. And bon appetit!

Green Beans the French way

2010-02-04T01:47:00.001-08:00

Back in the United States, I was very proud of my green beans. My parents would beg me to make them when I was home for the holidays, and they were my go-to side dish to impress a new boyfriend. So when I moved to France and met Sébastien, I was looking forward to the opportunity to make them for him as well. The occasion finally arose; I boasted proudly, "I have a fantastic recipe for green beans! You're going to love them." I proceeded to describe the recipe.

Sébastien looked at me rather strangely. There was a long pause. "But..." [another long pause] "... that's how everyone makes green beans here!" It turns out my innovative, original green bean recipe is nothing more than a French household standard. However, that doesn't change the fact that it's delicious.

Don't hesitate to adjust the boiling time to account for your personal green bean taste. I like mine fairly crisp, so I boil them about 7 minutes; if you prefer yours softer, you could boil them around 10 minutes. I'm not going to give specific measurements here; count approximately one large handful of green beans per invitee, and the rest of the ingredients are proportional.

French Green Beans

Green beans
1-2 Tbsp. butter
Garlic (powder or a clove)
Lemon juice and lemon wedges
2-3 Tbsp. parsley (fresh)
Salt and Pepper

Rinse and clean (snapping off ends and removing any strings) your green beans. Throw them in a kettle of rapidly boiling salted water and let boil for 7-10 minutes. During this time, if you are using a clove of fresh garlic, mince it.

When green beans have finished cooking, drain them immediately in a colander and rinse with cold running water.

Meanwhile, return the hot kettle to the stove. If you're using fresh garlic, begin by placing a generous pad of butter in the kettle and sautéeing the garlic over medium low heat for 1-2 minutes. Follow with the other ingredients, as described below.
If you are using garlic powder, place a generous pad of butter in the kettle over medium low heat and return the green beans. Season with garlic and salt and pepper; generously moisten with lemon juice; add a few tablespoons of fresh parsley. Heat, stirring regularly, until the green beans are warm but not browned.

Serve immediately with a wedge of lemon.

Bon appetit!

Two potato purée

2010-02-01T15:19:00.001-08:00

I've been thinking a lot recently about the versatility of sweet potatoes (patates douces here in France). I was inspired by a rather surprising dish I enjoyed at a restaurant a few weeks ago - salmon, sweet potatoes and onion baked in cream sauce - and by a healthy chocolate cake recipe I stumbled across that used overripe bananas and sweet potato in place of sugar. With these ideas in mind, I stocked up on sweet potatoes at my last trip to the market and vowed to use them everywhere possible.

So last week while making the French (and American!) classic purée de pommes de terre, I decided to liven things up with some sweet potato. I started with the traditional recipe - boiled white potatoes, cream, butter, salt pepper and nutmeg - but added a baked sweet potato to the mix. The result was delicious, and playfully colorful as well. While I'm a huge fan of garlic mashed potatoes, I don't recommend garlic as a seasoning with sweet potato.

One mashed potato tip I've learned: never, ever use an electric mixer on potatoes; the result will be elastic instead of creamy.

Two potato purée
Serves 4-6

6 potatoes
1/2 cup heavy cream (or milk)
1 pad butter
salt, pepper, nutmeg
1 sweet potato

Peel and rinse the potatoes. Cut them into cubes and boil for 20 minutes. Meanwhile, poke the sweet potato several times with a fork, then place in the microwave on high for 6-7 minutes.
When the potatoes are finished cooking, drain and place them back in the pot. Cut the sweet potato in half and scrape the interior into the pot with the cooked potato. Add the butter and cream; pepper cautiously, add salt and nutmeg generously. Mash thoroughly with a fork or potato masher.
Feel free to adjust butter/cream/seasoning amounts to taste.

Bon appetit!

Whole wheat banana muffins

2010-01-17T14:15:00.000-08:00

Here in France, breakfast is a simple affair. A chunk of last night's baguette is toasted, slathered in butter, and dunked in a bowl of coffee, and your average Frenchman is out the door. If they're prevoyant enough to have thought of it the previous evening at the bakery, they might even have an airy, butter croissant - of course, still dunked in coffee.

Compared to these meager rations, the typical American breakfast seems a veritable feast. And to the French, the mere mention of breakfast in the USA conjures up images of plates heaped high with bacon, eggs, pancakes and pastries. Recently, my husband has been begging me to make him muffins -- which he adorably pronounces "muf-FEENS" -- and he's become a big fan of this healthy banana version. It's also won praise from my in-laws and neighbors, who couldn't resist the exoticism.

So, to recap: this isn't a French recipe at all. But it will win you lots of friends if you make it in France.

Whole wheat banana muffins
Makes 10

2 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
2 cups cake flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
3 ripe bananas
1 egg
1/2 cup raw cane sugar or brown sugar
3 Tbsp vegetable or olive oil
a small handful of raisins

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease or line 10 muffin tins.
Stir together dry ingredients in a large mixing bowl.
In a smaller bowl, mix bananas with a hand mixer until they form a purée. Add egg, sugar and oil and beat until well mixed.
Add the banana mixture to the dry ingredients and mix on low speed just until blended. Add the raisins and stir.
Fill the muffin cups about 2/3 full with batter. Bake approximately 20 minutes, or until the tops are puffed and spring back when touched lightly. Serve warm or cold.

My husband - along with most French people, from my experience - is reluctant to accept whole wheat flour, but I've found that mixing in a bit of cake flour keeps baked goods light and fluffy. Good luck and bon appetit!

The wonderful world of gratins

2010-01-11T11:30:00.000-08:00

Happy 2010! Wishing you all success and creativity this year, in the kitchen and in all walks of life.

Here in the south of France, winter temperatures rarely fall below freezing. But the relatively temperate climate of the region doesn't prevent the locals from craving rich, hearty dishes, usually involving some combination of cream, butter, and egg. So in these dark months, the provençaux abandon their typical diet of tomatoes and olive oil to borrow the sinfully delicious cuisine of the region directly to the north: the Alps. You are probably already familiar with some of the most typical Alpine fare - fondue, raclette, maybe even tartiflette. If these are conjuring up images of thick, melted cheese everywhere, you're on the right track.

But as far as I'm concerned, the real star to come from the Alps is the gratin. This is a versatile baked dish that is most well-known with potatoes, but could feature anything from cauliflower to seafood. In essence, your main ingredient is layered with a milk and cream mixture in an oven dish, topped with cheese or bread crumbs, then baked until golden.

I'll start you off with two gratin recipes, both featuring the classic potato. The first, my husband has told me each time I've made it, is "the best gratin ever." It is an authentic gratin dauphinois, the perfect accompaniment for any meat. The second (pictured above), slighly lighter, mixes potatoes with broccoli, and could serve as a main dish.

I should note that in potato-based recipes, it is important to choose the right potato variety. Here in France, where gratins are omnipresent, you'll find potatoes at the market specifically labeled "for gratins." Since I don't remember seeing those in the US, try any potato that's recommended for baking or for cooking in the oven.

Gratin dauphinois

(serves 6)

3 lbs. potatoes

1 clove garlic, finely minced

1 1/4 cups cream

1 quart milk

6 Tbsp butter

salt, pepper, nutmeg

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
Peel, rince, and finely slice the potatoes (in that order! do not rince after slicing) into rounds.
In a pot, combine milk and garlic. Season generously with salt, pepper and nutmeg. Bring to a boil, then add the potatoes. Cook approximately 15 minutes.
Grease an oven-safe dish, then fill with potatoes. Cover with cream.
Place small scrapings of butter on the top of the gratin. Bake for 50 minutes to 1 hour.

Potato-Broccoli Gratin

(Serves 6)

2 lbs. potatoes

1 head of broccoli

1 clove garlic

1 cup milk

3/4 cup heavy cream or crème fraîche

1 egg

3 1/2 oz. shredded cheese

salt, pepper, nutmeg

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
Cut the broccoli into small florets and rince. Place in a large pot of boiling water and cook for five minutes.
Drain broccoli. Peel and rince potatoes, then cut them into fine, round slices.
Cut the clove of garlic in half. Vigorously rub the inside of an oven-safe dish with the inside of the garlic clove.
Layer potatoes and broccoli in the dish, seasoning each layer with salt, pepper and nutmeg.
When all the potatoes and broccoli have been used, combine egg, cream and milk in a mixing bowl. Season with salt, pepper and nutmeg; pour the liquid over your gratin.
Cover with shredded cheese (I use emmental; parmesan would also be delicious). Bake for 1 hour, or until the crust is golden.

Bon appetit!

Veal (or turkey) Saltimbocca

2009-12-21T12:14:00.000-08:00

This has probably become obvious by now, but I'd like to come out and say it: I love to cook. Even more than cooking for its own sake, I love to invite people over, cook for them, and make them happy just because they're eating something delicious. But there is nothing more frustrating than being trapped in the kitchen, watching over your dishes, while your guests mingle elsewhere in the house. You miss out on all the conversation (it's really hard to eavesdrop in French!), all the cocktails, and all the hors d'oeuvres you so lovingly prepared earlier in the day - hey, no fair!

That's where saltimboccas come in. These playful rolls are originally from Italy, but they've been adopted by many of the French restaurants here along the Mediterranean coast. What's great is that they take only a few minutes to prepare, and thus can be done last-minute -- no need to miss out on all the pre-dinner gossip. They are traditionally made with veal, but those with moral objections to poor baby cows being force-fed and held in inhumanely small pens can substitute turkey.

The typical accompaniment to saltimbocca is pasta; if you're doing this, make enough cream sauce to douse your pasta as well. I find it also works well with spinach - creamed, wilted, pureed, take your pick.

Veal or Turkey Saltimbocca
Serves 4

4 very thin veal or turkey cutlets
4 slices of prosciutto
4 slices of swiss or mozzarella cheese
5 sage leaves
3 tablespoons crème fraîche
1/2 lemon
salt, pepper, olive oil
toothpicks
In a large frying pan, briefly sautée cutlets in olive oil on one side only until they become golden. Season with salt and pepper.
Remove cutlets from frying pan. Place them raw-side-down on a cutting board. On top of the cooked side of each of the cutlets, place 1 slice prosciutto, 1 slice of cheese, and 1 sage leaf. Roll up the cutlets and hold them closed with toothpicks. (The first two steps can be performed ahead of time.)
Cut up the remaining sage leaf and place it in the frying pan with olive oil. Place the rolls into the frying pan and cook over medium-low heat until they are golden on all sides and the cheese is melted.
Remove rolls from pan and cover with foil to keep them warm. In the frying pan, add the lemon juice and the cream, stirring energetically . Season to taste with salt and pepper.
Serve rolls topped with cream sauce, accompanied by the vegetable or pasta of your choice.

For a delicious, visually pleasing main dish, I think this one is about as rapid as you can get. I've heard complaints that crème fraîche is difficult to find in the US; while it should be available in specialty/gourmet food stores, I've heard there's a way to make your own with buttermilk and milk. I'll look that up and get back to you. In the meantime, bon appetit!

Red wine sauce

2009-12-09T01:13:00.000-08:00

There is one thing I am sure of this holiday season: you must make this sauce. Its ingredient list seems complicated, but it's actually quite simple, and will transform your whipped-up-at-the-last-minute dinner into something gourmet.

Sébastien insists on red meat at least once a week, but as a cook, there's something inherently unsatisfying about serving a slab of meat you've essentially done nothing to. Throwing a steak in a frying pan and flipping it once is not my idea of talent. (Which is why, incidentally, I usually leave the boy to his own devices on red meat day.) But with this sauce, I've found my solution. You can serve it on white meat, on fish, even on potatoes for you vegetarians; but the ultimate pairing is definitely red meat.

Red Wine Sauce
Serves 4

4 shallots
1/2 bottle red wine
1 beef bouillon cube
1/2 cup water
2 tablespoons half and half (or heavy cream)
1 tablespoon corn starch (or flour, but corn starch is best)
olive oil
salt, pepper

Heat a spoonful of olive oil in a saucepan. Add shallots, salt and pepper to taste, and sautée until translucent and soft (about 5-7 minutes).
Add the red wine, the bouillon cube and the water. Cook over medium heat (very slow boil), stirring occasionally, until the liquid has reduced by half.
Stir the corn starch and the cream in a separate bowl, making sure there are no lumps.
Lower the heat to medium-low and add the cream mixture to the sauce. Cook for a few more minutes, stirring often, until the sauce reaches your desired consistency.
Serve immediately.

And voilà! No more boring meat. Bon appetit!

Zucchini tagliatelle

2009-11-27T02:47:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago I told you about the French attitude towards vegetables, and this enticing side dish is the perfect case-in-point. It falls into the "disguise" category: hey, if we make a

vegetable look like pasta, maybe no one will know it's actually a vegetable!

Well, surprise surprise, it actually works. There's something infinitely more fun about eating these long, thin, playful strips of zucchini. Tossed in olive oil, lightly seasoned, and cooked until they melt in your mouth, these tagliatelles are a change of speed from the same round coins of zucchini you've been eating all your life. It's a perfect accompaniment for red meat, or for that matter, for any main dish. I'd recommend approximately a zucchini per person.

Zucchini tagliatelle
Serves 4

4 zucchini
olive oil
salt, pepper, herbes de provence

Using a vegetable peeler, peel each of the zucchinis down to the seeds. Throw away
the skin and the cores.
In a large pan, heat the olive oil until it is warm but not smoking. Add the strips of
zucchini and season with salt, pepper, and herbes de provence. Sautée the strips of zucchini over medium-low heat until they are
translucent and soft - this should take approximately 15 minutes, or longer. Serve immediately.

Bon appetit!

Carrot - Mushroom Soup

2009-11-21T03:45:00.000-08:00

I've already extolled the virtues of soup in a previous post, so I won't bore you again - but this delicate, original soup deserves all the praise you can imagine. A fairly traditional French recipe combines carrots and ordinary white mushrooms for a quick, easy weeknight meal, but I spiced it up with wild mushrooms and a nut-infused cream garnish.

I'm a big fan of mushrooms. Years ago, all of the south of France was covered in oak forests; unfortunately, wildfires during the dry summer months have wiped out most of them. The ones that remain are havens for nature's tastiest fungi - girolles (called golden chanterelles in English), cèpes, sanguins, morilles, and more. After the fall rains pass through the region, you can literally smell mushrooms in the air: nutty and rich, the scent just makes me itch to cook some delectable mushroom-based dish. The wild mushroom season doesn't last long, so it's important to make the most of it while it lasts.

My last trip to the market, I came home with perhaps a third of a pound of golden chanterelles. These are some of the most delicious mushrooms out there: yellow-orange in color, with a nutty flavor slightly reminiscent of apricot. Chanterelles are versatile little things: they're perfect in cream sauces for white meat, but also delicious sautéed with parsley and butter as a side dish. We were having friends over for dinner and serving beef as the main course, so I thought that a warm mushroom soup would be the perfect start to the meal. You could also serve this as a main dish for a light dinner.

The garnish is, like most garnishes, optional. But I highly recommend it. If you think that nut vinegar seems exotic and that you'll never use it again, change your mind. It's perfect in salad dressings and pasta sauces, and I'll make an extra effort to include it in future recipes I post. Deal?

Carrot-Mushroom Soup
Serves 6

1 onion, cut into cubes
3 carrots, peeled and cut into cubes
2 potatoes, peeled and cut into cubes
olive oil
cube of chicken or vegetable bouillon
2 handfuls of wild mushrooms, preferably golden chanterelles
butter
parsley
salt, pepper

for the garnish:
4 tablespoons whipping cream
nut vinegar

In a large pot, sauté the onion, carrots and potatoes with olive oil until the onion is translucent. Pour in enough water just to cover the vegetables and add the bouillon cube. Cover and let cook over medium-low heat for 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, thoroughly wash the mushrooms (but don't let them soak in water! they will absorb it all and lose their flavor) and dry them. Sautée them for 3-4 minutes in a separate frying pan with a bit of butter, adding parsley, salt and pepper to taste.

At the end of the 20 minutes, add the mushrooms to the vegetables and broth and mix until smooth with a hand mixer.

For the garnish, place the cream into a small bowl and add just a few drops of nut vinegar. Whip with a whisk for a few moments - you want the cream to be light, but not whipped cream. Taste and verify the quantity of vinegar.

Serve the soup in individual cups or bowls with a small spoonful of cream. Bon appetit!

Zucchini-chèvre mousse

2009-11-04T05:42:00.000-08:00

This is an appetizer to knock your guests' socks off. I served it for my mother-in-law's big 60th birthday bash - in laws and ex girlfriends galore, a tough crowd if there ever was one - and the unanimous reaction was, "dix sur dix!" (That means 10/10. I was more than satisfied.)

You may have noticed that I have a soft spot for goat cheese, and this dish is no exception. But the flavors in these individual mousses are all so perfectly synergistic that even chèvre amateurs will be amazed. The sweetness of the zucchini balances out perfectly the sharpness of the cheese, and the final result is so light and fluffy that everyone will be asking for seconds. The secret ingredient here is tarragon, which is a natural partner for any egg-and-cheese dish. Try it in your next Sunday morning omelette and you'll see what I mean.

I should note that this recipe is inspired from a similar one from a British cookbook called "Veg Out."

Zucchini-chèvre mousse
Serves 4

11oz. fresh goat cheese (similar to "Petit Billy," if you can find it)
3 oz. sharp goat cheese
3 tbsp sour cream or crème fraiche
2 eggs
fresh tarragon
2 zucchini
olive oil
salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.
With a whisk or in a food processor, blend together goat cheeses, sour cream, eggs, tarragon, and salt and pepper to taste. (This step can be done ahead of time. Keep the mixture covered in the refrigerator until ready to continue.)
Peel the zucchini and, using the peeler, continue to cut off long strips of zucchini until you arrive at the seeds. Throw away the peel.
Lightly grease four individual-size ramekins with olive oil, then line the ramekins with strips of zucchini.
Spoon the cheese mixture into the ramekins and bake until firm, about 20 minutes. Let the mousses rest for a few minutes, then unmold onto serving plates.

To serve, I suggest first placing a branch of tarragon on the plate, then unmolding the mousse in the center. Then garnish with half of a cherry tomato for color. Bon appetit!

Crème Brûlée

2009-10-27T05:01:00.000-07:00

I don't think I even need to tell you that this is a classic - a pillar, even - of French cuisine. Who could forget that scene in Amélie where she describes the sensation of cracking the warm, sugary crust of a crème brûlée? I highly recommend you re-watch the film before making this recipe; it's guaranteed to give you a new appreciation for the dessert.

It doesn't get much simpler than this: eggs, cream, sugar, a touch of vanilla. You can play around with other flavors - orange flower and licorice are popular variants over here - but the original is bursting with flavor as is. Before starting, you'll need a bit of special equipment: small, individual ramekins for each crème brûlée, plus, if possible, a culinary blowtorch. If you haven't got this last tool (I don't), you can also brown the sugar by briefly broiling your finished crème brûlées in the oven.

Crème Brûlée
Serves 4

5 egg yolks
1/3 cup sugar
2 cups heavy cream
1 vanilla bean

Preheat your oven to 200 degrees F. Beat the eggs and sugar together in a mixing bowl with a whisk until they become smooth, frothy, and slightly white. Break the vanilla bean in two lengthwise and scrape the grains into the mixing bowl. Gradually add the cream while actively whisking. Pour the batter into the ramekins and place in the oven for one hour.
Remove ramekins from the oven, let them cool at room temperature, then chill them in the refrigerator for at least one hour. Just before serving, sprinkle the top of the crème brûlée with sugar, then burn the sugar with a culinary torch or by placing in the oven on "broil" for a few minutes, just until the sugar becomes brown and hardens.

I should note that I've cut a bit of sugar out of traditional crème brûlée recipes, since I think the sweetness can sometimes be overpowering. If you've got a real sweet tooth, you may have to adjust the sugar accordingly. Bon appetit!

Soup Season!

2009-10-22T14:55:00.000-07:00

It's officially fall here in Provence: the Mediterranean has fallen below bathing-without-a-wetsuit temperatures, the four month summer drought has been brought to a close by days of torrential rain, and wild mushrooms are sprouting right and left. (No worries, a whole post devoted to mushrooms will be on its way soon!) Some may lament their fading tan lines, but for me, it's time to celebrate. Fall means I can finally break out one of my favorite dishes: SOUP.

I'll start you out with a hearty soup that's been a standby for me since my arrival here, not to mention one that's sure to warm you up on cold nights. Don't be fooled - served with a slice or two of whole-grain bread, this is a meal all on its own. I'll apologize in advance for the photo, which doesn't do this soup justice at all.

Potato Leek Soup

4 potatoes
2 leeks
1/4 head of cauliflower
1 onion
1/2 liter of vegetable or chicken bouillon
3/4 cup whole cream
3/4 cup milk
Olive oil, butter, salt, pepper to taste

Peel and cube the potatoes. Boil them in the vegetable bouillon for about 20 minutes, or until the potatoes are quite soft.
After starting the potatoes, chop the cauliflower into small pieces and sautee for 2-3 minutes in a large frying pan with olive oil. Then add the cauliflower to the boiling potatoes and cover.
Chop the leeks and onion; sautee them in olive oil in the same pan you used for the cauliflower. Add salt and pepper to taste. Allow the leeks and onion to sautee until they become translucent, about 10 minutes.
Once everything is finished, remove the pot with the potato and cauliflower from heat. Add cream, milk, leeks, and onion to the mixture and mash until the soup reaches your desired consistency. You can use an electric mixer to get a very smooth result, or a whisk to leave it a bit chunkier.

Serve topped with a bit of fresh parsley. Bon appetit!

Toutes mes excuses....

2009-10-19T15:26:00.000-07:00

I have not been posting much recently, and that's quite simply because I haven't been cooking much recently - too many restaurants! Since this is a food-based blog, I'm going to indulge myself and share with you a restaurant that has more or less changed my life:

the Moulin de Mougins.

There are almost no words to describe the meal that I ate. (I don't even want to say "eat," the word seems too vulgar for the art that was on my plate.) From the ginger-lemon champagne cocktail before the meal to the entire truffle I found nestled in my zucchini flower appetizer to the melt-in-your-mouth Bresse chicken, it was to die for. Normally after eating out I like to come home and do my best imitation of the dishes; this time, I'm not even trying it. The flavors were so complex, the textures so perfectly mixed that it would feel like sacrilege to even pretend. So I'm begging you all to come visit me and spend a night at the Moulin de Mougins. Till then, you can slaver over the website:

http://www.moulindemougins.com/fr/index.php

Tarte aux Tomates

2009-10-13T13:42:00.000-07:00

I'm convinced that there is something magical about this tomato tart. No matter how many times I make it, I'm always amazed by the explosion of taste that comes from a short and simple list of ingredients. It's a stand-by here in Provence, taking only a half hour to prepare, serving as the perfect appetizer when served in small slivers or an ideal meal with green salad on the side. You can play around with this recipe however you'd like - layering slices of prosciutto under the tomatoes, sprinkling small chunks of mozzarella on top, adding black olives - but I'm convinced that the original is the best.

Tarte aux Tomates

1 Pâte brisée pie crust (homemade or store-bought)
4 tablespoons dijon mustard
3/4 cup shredded cheese (I use emmental)
3 large tomatoes, thinly sliced
olive oil
salt, pepper, oregano

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Place the pie crust in a quiche pan. Spread the mustard in a thin layer all over the bottom of the crust, then sprinkle the cheese evenly over the mustard. Place the tomato slices in a circular pattern around the tart. Top with a drizzle of olive oil, salt, pepper, and a generous helping of oregano. Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until your crust is golden-brown around the edges.

...And that's it. Really, could this recipe be any easier? Try it tonight -- bon appetit!

All-purpose crust

2009-10-11T14:05:00.000-07:00

I've called this simple, reasonably easy crust "all-purpose" because it works for practically any recipe. Sweet or savory, hot or cold, appetizer dinner or dessert, this is your crust. In French it's called "pâte brisée," literally meaning "broken crust," and it's slightly flaky without falling to pieces when you cut it with a fork. I use it for quiches, tomato tarts, and fruit pies.

Pâte brisée

3/4 cup flour
pinch of salt (only for savory recipes)
1 Tb sugar (only for sweet recipes)
6 tablespoons butter
1 egg yolk
water

Cut the butter into small pieces. Pour the flour and salt or sugar into a circle in the bottom of a large bowl and place the butter in the center. Using your fingertips, press together the flour and the butter until the dough has a sandy, flaky quality.

Push the dough into the edges of the bowl and add the egg yolk in the
center. Mix together, using your fingertips, until the dough is smooth.

Add the water a few drops at a time - not more than 2 tablespoons total - and roll the dough into a ball. The right quantity of water should leave you with a dough that holds together in a ball, but isn't sticky.

On a floured surface and using a floured rolling pin, roll out the dough and place it in your quiche or pie pan. Poke the crust a few times with a fork before adding the filling, which will keep the crust from inflating in the oven.

In France, and I imagine in the United States, you can find fairly good pre-made crusts that are more than sufficient for quick recipes. But a homemade crust is infinitely tastier, less expensive, and to be honest, it's pretty fun to mix together the butter and the flour with your fingertips. So next time you're making quiche, take the time for a homemade crust, have fun, and bon appetit!

Terrines, take two

2009-09-19T23:35:00.000-07:00

After my last post about terrines, I decided to get over my fear of the bain-marie and give a cooked terrine a try. The result was this delicious, slightly autumnal carrot-bacon side dish. I served it at a dinner party with grilled lamb chops, and kids and adults alike clamored for seconds.

As an aside, a word about the French and vegetables: they're not openly friendly. The French like to disguise their vegetables, whether it be in purees, gratins, or simply cooking them until they turn to mush (à la ratatouille). I, who liked my vegetables crunchy, soon found that my rapid stir-fry technique would not fly over here. After months of resistance, I've finally caved in to the French veggie mentality. When they're cooked to perfection, seasoned, smothered, and essentially beaten into submission, vegetables become, well, enticing. So put away the steamer basket and try:

Carrot-bacon Terrine
Serves 8
2 pounds carrots
12 slices bacon
4 eggs
nutmeg
salt and pepper

Peel and wash the carrots. Cut into small chunks and steam for 15 minutes.
Set aside a third of the carrots; mix the remaining 2/3 with the eggs and a generous splash of nutmeg with a hand mixer until smooth. Pour into a large bowl and add the remaining carrot pieces. Add salt and pepper and stir.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line a terrine pan with wax paper. Cook the bacon in a nonstick pan (not too crispy, it's going in the oven afterwards) and pat dry with a paper towel when finished.
Fill the terrine pan with alternating layers of carrots and bacon, ideally three of each. Place the terrine in the oven inside a larger, oven-safe pan. Pour hot water into the larger pan (this is the bain marie, which prevents the eggs from cooking too quickly and making an omelette) and allow to cook for 45 minutes.

As I said, the autumnal colors - not to mention the touch of nutmeg - make this a perfect fall side dish. Bon appetit!

Sébastien's Seafood Salad

2009-08-27T23:17:00.000-07:00

This is, without a doubt, my husband Sébastien's favorite salad. He made it for me once early in our relationship, and I have to admit that I was not a fan. Since I've taken over the cooking, he's been begging and begging for me to make it for him. I finally caved, and with a few tweaks to the recipe, I've found a compromise that more than satisfies both of us. This salad is light and cool, but still filling enough to make a main dish. It's the perfect lunch for a hot summer day. I've given the quantities I used for the salad ingredients, but don't feel locked in - put in more of your favorites, less of what you don't like, and have fun experimenting!

Sébastien's Seafood Salad
2 cups penne pasta (I used whole wheat)
3/4 cup cooked, peeled shrimp
1/2 cup crab pieces
1/2 cup hearts of palm, sliced
1/2 cup corn
1 grapefruit, cut into small pieces
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup plain yogurt
salt, pepper, dill, chives

Cook the pasta until firm; drain and allow to cool. In a small bowl, whisk together mayonnaise, yogurt, and spices. Combine all the ingredients in a large bowl, pour the mayonnaise-yogurt blend over the top and stir. Allow to chill in the refrigerator a few hours before serving.

And voila! Sébastien, who is a big fan of grapefruit, also adds a splash of grapefruit juice to the sauce; I find this makes the salad too bitter. Serve on a bed of green salad. Bon appetit!

An Experiment in Conserves

2009-08-26T12:49:00.000-07:00

When I first moved to Provence, a Google search for the small town where I would be teaching revealed only one English-language result: a page entitled "The fig capital of France." As it turns out, the site wasn't lying - this area is known for its violet figs, darker and sweeter than the white figs that come from Marseille and elsewhere in the country. We're lucky enough to have a fig tree in our yard that literally overflows with fruit in August, a culinary opportunity I couldn't pass up. The sheer quantity of figs led me to my first experiment in conservation: fig jam. I used special jam-making sugar, but I've been told that this recipe will work just as well with normal sugar.

Fig Jam
makes approximately 1 liter of jam

2 pounds figs
2 cups sugar
1/4 cup water
1 vanilla bean

Thoroughly wash the figs and cut them into quarters. In a large, heavy-bottomed pot, combine the water and the sugar over medium heat. Let the syrup come to a boil, then add the figs and the vanilla bean, split in half. Lower the heat to medium low and let the jam simmer for at least one hour, stirring frequently with a wooden spoon. At the end of the hour, place the hot jam into sterilized glass pots.

For your morning toast, this jam is delicious, and has a surprisingly strong vanilla flavor. If you're not a fan of vanilla, you could substitute cinnamon or star anise. If you prefer enjoying your fig jam with cheese, I suggest you leave out the spices altogether. Bon appetit!

Provençal Eggplant Parmesan

2009-08-22T03:33:00.000-07:00

Here in Provence in the summer, everything is about eggplant. It's the star ingredient in ratatouille, it finds its way into gratins and casseroles, and I even have a friend from Marseille who makes a spicy eggplant jam to be served with cheese. I personally am a fan because it makes a great meat substitute.

When I found myself responsible for preparing dinner for my husband's entire extended family last week, I needed something filling that I could prepare ahead of time. The perfect solution: eggplant parmesan. While the traditional Italian version with gooey mozzarella is always delicious, I decided to spice things up with goat cheese and plenty of fresh basil from our garden. I made my own tomato sauce; if you're short on time, use a canned variety. You can also play around with the cheeses - I garnished with parmesan, but you could easily use shredded mozzarella; if you don't like goat cheese, stick with fresh mozzarella between the slices of eggplant.

Provençal Eggplant Parmesan
Serves 6-8
For the sauce:
2 onions, minced
3 cloves garlic, minced
6 tomatoes, peeled (do this by cutting a small "x" in the top of each tomato, then dropping them in boiling water for about 30 seconds. The skin comes right off)
1/2 cup tomato purée or tomato juice
pinch of sugar
2 bay leaves, oregano, sage, thyme (or other spices of your choosing)
salt and pepper
olive oil

For the rest:
2-3 large eggplants, cut into thin slices
3 eggs
1/2 cup flour
3/4 cup parmesan cheese
olive oil
goat cheese
fresh basil

For the sauce: sautée the onion in olive oil in a saucepot until it becomes translucent. Add the garlic and sautée for a few moments longer. Then add the tomatoes, cut into small chunks, the tomato juice, the sugar, the spices, and the salt and pepper. Stir well; let simmer over very low heat for approximately 30 minutes.

For the rest: Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Beat the eggs in a bowl; mix the flour and 1/2 cup parmesan in a second bowl. Dip each slice of eggplant in the eggs, then roll in the flour-
parmesan mixture until well coated. Sautée the eggplant slices in olive oil in a large frying pan until golden (shown on the left). Coat the bottom of a large, oven-safe pan with olive oil, then a thin layer of tomato sauce; add one layer of sautéed eggplant slices on top. Cover the eggplant with chunks of goat cheese, then basil leaves (shown above). Add a second layer of eggplant slices. Cover with the remaining tomato sauce and garnish with the remaining parmesan cheese. Bake for approximately 25 minutes, or until the cheese is browned and the sauce is bubbling. Serve with pasta and green salad.

Bon appetit!

Seasonal spotlight: Blackberries

2009-08-13T13:27:00.000-07:00

I started seeing small cartons of dark, shiny blackberries at our local produce markets a few weeks ago, but I decided to take advantage of the dense bushes lining the road up to our house to pick my own this week. A neighbor recommended using the berries in a clafoutis, a dense, custard-like cake that is normally made with cherries. I'll post my recipe for cherry clafoutis eventually, but this late-summer blackberry version was so delicious I knew I had to share right away. I combined my blackberry harvest with a few handfuls of mulberries from our yard, which added an even sweeter taste.

Summer berry clafoutis
serves 8
1 1/2 cups of blackberries and mulberries (enough to cover the bottom of a 9-inch pie pan)
4 tablespoons butter
1/4 cup almond powder (unsweetened)
1 cup milk
2 eggs + 2 egg yolks
1/3 cup self-rising flour
1/3 cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
pinch of salt
vanilla sugar for dusting

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Place the butter in a 9-inch pie pan and place it in a warm oven until the butter is melted.
In a bowl, beat the eggs and yolks, then add the sugar and salt. Mix well. Add the vanilla extract and flour and mix until the batter is smooth and creamy.
Take the butter out of the oven, add it to the batter, then slowly add the milk while stirring.
Use a paper towel to spread around the remaining butter in the pie pan, then flour the pan. Spread the almond powder evenly in the bottom of the pan, then add the berries over the almond powder.
Pour the batter over the berries and bake for approximately 40 minutes.
Dust the cake with vanilla sugar and allow to cool. Serve lukewarm or cold, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or a drizzle of crème anglaise.

This rich, smooth cake goes well with almost any combination of fruits - the classic cherry, as I mentioned above, but also peaches and nectarines, raspberries, etc... so have fun experimenting!

Bon appetit!

White wine fruit salad

2009-08-11T15:00:00.000-07:00

Right off the bat, a confession: this is not a French recipe at all. I enjoyed a strawberry-cantaloupe-mint salad at Whole Foods in 2007, and I after a bit of trial and error, I've created a satisfactory homemade version. This would be the perfect finish to a barbecue on a hot summer night, or, served in crystal or glass flutes, a light and refined dessert for any meal. Without further ado:

White wine fruit salad
Serves 4-6

2 cups strawberries, halved or quartered
1 small cantaloupe, cut into bite-size pieces
1/4 cup mint, finely chopped
1/4 cup white wine
3 tablespoons white balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons sugar

Place all the ingredients in a bowl and stir. Cover and place in the refrigerator for several hours before serving.

Bon appetit!

Tricolor terrine

2009-08-10T12:05:00.000-07:00

The term terrine can be used to refer to any number of patés and layered meat dishes made in a rectangular mold. They are usually made with a base of meat or fish, finely chopped, mixed with vegetables or cheese and butter, and baked - here's the complication - in a bain marie, a tub of almost-boiling water that allows the entire pan to be heated at the same temperature. For my first excursion into the world of terrines, I chose a vegetarian recipe that avoided the intimidating-sounding bain marie. This fresh combination of roasted red peppers, seasoned eggplant, and tart goat cheese is time-consuming but uncomplicated to prepare; it makes an impressive appetizer or contribution to a cocktail party.

Tricolor terrine
Serves 8

4 medium or 3 large eggplants
4 red peppers
8 oz. goat cheese
5 tablespoons olive oil
3 tablespoons cream
fresh parsley for garnish
salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to broil. Wash and dry the peppers; core them and cut them into quarters. Place them in the oven and broil until the skins are entirely black. Set the peppers aside and allow them to cool; when cool, peel off the skins and cut the peppers into strips.
Peel the eggplants and cut them into cubes. Cook the cubes for 30 minutes in a large, covered pan with the olive oil and the salt and pepper over low heat, stirring regularly. Drain the extra liquid in a colander.
Mix the goat cheese and the cream in a bowl. Season with salt and pepper.
Line a terrine pan with wax or parchment paper. Place a thin layer of red pepper in the bottom; cover with a layer of eggplant and another thin layer of red pepper. Spread the cream-goat cheese mixture over the peppers, then cover with another layer of red pepper and eggplant. If you have red pepper left, add a final layer.
Place the terrine in the refrigerator for at least two hours, or overnight. Garnish with finely chopped parsley before serving.

Bon appetit!

Quiche of the week: zucchini-salmon

2009-08-09T14:59:00.000-07:00

I'm sure most of you are familiar with quiche, a quintessential French dish. It's one of my favorite things to cook, for a number of reasons: firstly, it works anywhere, anytime. Packed with meat and vegetables and served with a side salad, it makes a satisfying main dish. The simpler varieties could easily be served as an appetizer. Tiny, crustless squares of quiche (even leftovers!) on a pretty platter make a très chic addition to cocktail hour. Secondly, it's fast - once you get down the basic pattern, you can whip up a quiche in less than half an hour. And finally, I love quiche for its endless variations. Although the "classic" is, of course, the quiche lorraine, the simple combination of an egg-based batter and a flaky crust lends itself to any number of seasonings and toppings.

Which brings me to the quiche of the week, our very first recipe here on French Lessons:

Zucchini-salmon quiche
Serves 4-6 for dinner, 6-8 for appetizer
Ingredients:
store-bought or hand-made round pastry crust (unbaked)
4 eggs
3/4 cup milk
1/2 cup cream
2 zucchinis, thinly sliced
3 slices smoked salmon (or enough to thinly cover the bottom of the quiche)
2 tablespoons chopped chives
salt and pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a quiche pan with the pastry crust and poke several times with a fork (to avoid it inflating in the oven). In a bowl, beat together eggs, milk, cream, salt and pepper. Place the salmon in the bottom of the quiche pan, then cover the salmon with the slices of zucchini. Pour the egg mixture over the top and garnish with chives. Place the quiche in the oven and bake for approximately 20 minutes, or until the top of the quiche is golden-brown and the zucchini is cooked.

As I said above, quiche is infinitely variable, so feel free to be creative with the above recipe. If you're not a fan of chives, dill could be a good substitute; if you're a fan of thicker quiches (this one comes out rather thin, especially if you have a large quiche pan and not a 9-inch pie pan), use up to 6 eggs and more milk and cream as you see fit. The crust can be negotiated as well: when I'm in a hurry, I use a store-bought crust; when I have more time, I make my own - I'll post my recipe soon. If you're buying your crust, just make sure that you're not buying a sweetened dessert pie crust - anything without sugar in the first few ingredients should work fine.

Bon appetit!

Bienvenue!

2009-08-09T04:28:00.000-07:00

The story behind the love story:

Once upon a time, there was a young girl living in the United States. She grew up in Ohio, far from Michelin stars and Alain Ducasse, and once watched a neighbor eat an entire 20-piece bucket of fried chicken. She later moved to North Carolina, where she encountered things like cheese grits and people who ate saltine crackers topped with butter. The girl imagined herself a health nut, eating half-cooked vegetables and brown rice at least twice a week. (She also ate a lot of cheese grits and had a longstanding addiction to Diet Dr. Pepper.) 'Lunch' was a five-minute pause between classes, eaten standing up or walking; 'dinner' was in front of the television.

But in 2007, the girl moved to France. She met a boy (as girls do), and suddenly, a new culinary world opened before her. He took her to dinner, a complicated three-hour affair that involved four courses, a recommendation of which appetizer would best suit her choice of main dish, and two different bottles of wine. He cooked for her - vegetables that melted in her mouth instead of crunching, tiny green beans in a bundle tied with a strip of bacon, meat and fish served with delicate sauces - and she realized that her signature tofu stir-fry was not as exceptional as she had once thought.

Here in France, meals - and food in general - fill a different place in society than they do in the United States. A 'lunch break' is often two hours long, and restaurants are always packed at noon. Dessert is standard. Margarine is rare. Wine is omnipresent. Servings are small but rich, meant to be eaten slowly and savored. The bread is always fresh, to be eaten with your food or used to soak up sauces at the end - but never to snack on beforehand! Every region of France has its specialty food, and every French person is intensely proud of the country's culinary heritage. On the whole, meals are a real moment of relaxation and a break with the rest of the day. The French put aside everything else they are working on in order to come together around the table. And for the chef, the pressure is on to provide a meal that merits such attention.

And so, since my arrival here in France (surprise! that was me in the story), I've learned to embrace the French way of looking at food. I'm far from a master chef, but I've accumulated a collection of recipes that satisfy my rather exigent husband (the boy mentioned above) and let me feel like a legitimate French chef. The dishes range from fast and easy week-night fixes to more complicated weekend projects - I'll try and distinguish between the two - and I hope they reinvigorate your cooking and give you some new ideas.