Pour le Goût

A German-Themed Evening

Right off the bat I'll admit that what I don't know about German cuisine is a lot.  In 2005 I spent 6 months commuting to Frankfurt and I seem to remember a lot of dishes with hard boiled eggs.  Other than that, the available food leaned heavily to the Tuscan.

However, I recently hosted my book group and the book we read was Louise Erdrich's fable to the German butcher who immigrates to North Dakota after WWI.  Because the food served at the book group tends to be thematic and a stimulant for discussion, I wanted to do something German.  Preferably with sausages or cured ham. 

I quickly wrote my german friends and one not only gave me advice but also arranged to have her mother bring me some packets of ham and a jar of cornichons.  She instructed me that a classic/tradition/common way of serving it was to make open-face sandwiches with a rustic sourdough bread, a pat of butter and a slice of the ham topped with a fanned cornichon.  I did as I was told.  I knew at least my kids would love it! 

As I was putting the sandwiches together it occured to me that I had no idea what each of the four meats were (other than pork and bits).  I tried to do a quick Google search but everything was in German. During the evening I asked a non-native German speaker to help out but all we arrived at was "pork."  So I turned to an expert, Sandy Neumann who writes the German food blog (despite it's name!) Confiture de Vivre.  She explained to me that the coldcuts that we were eating are called Aufschnitt. It is mostly used for sandwiches and always with a pork base.  The Bierschinken and Bierwurst are pork with with pieces of bacon added (pork and pork, right?).  The Lyoner is made from highly salted and sometimes smoked ham.  It orginated as a french import and made its way into German cuisine. I saved the best for last:  the Rotwurst.  It's a blood-sausage.  That is is made by adding cooked pork blood and other cooked meats to the final sausage.  By far of the ones we tasted this was the best and highest quality.  Sandy also suggested, and I can easily imagine, that a local butcher who makes these meats my hand produces a very high quality Aufshnitt.  It makes me want to go to Germany to try for myself! 

Knowing the Aufschnitt to be something of a casual comfort food, I decided to make potato pancakes.  I had never done it before and although it's a bit labor intensive with the grating of the potatoes and onion and the frying, it's very easy.  See the recipe below to try for yourself.

I served everything with crudités and a white sauce of fromage frais, chives, lemon juice and salt and pepper.

Of course there was the beer.  I say "of course" but in fact it wasn't that easy - it's hard to find beer of any kind beyond the major national and international brands (think:  Heineken.)  However, the local health food store stocks imported organic (and organic AND gluten-free) beer - so that's what we drank.

Potato Pancakes

Makes approx. dozen (I doubled the recipe and wished I made more!)

• 4 large potatoes
• 1 onion
• 1 egg
• 2-4 tbsp flour
• Salt and Pepper to taste
• Vegetable oil for frying

Grate the potatoes and onion into a large bowl. I used the smallest julienne setting on my mandoline but a large-hole box grater would work fine.

Mix the egg and add to the potato-onion mixture.  Add just enough flour so the mass holds loosly together.

Heat about 1/8 inch of oil over high heat.  Once the oil is hot but not smoking, reduce the heat to medium high and add a spoonful of potato mix.  Flatten the pancake with a spatula and continue until you fill the pan (though not crowded). Once pancakes are showing golden on the edges, flip them over and cook the other side (about 6 minutes total).  Drain on papertowels.

YUM!  Don't forget to share!

Source:  Recipe adapted from recipes found on Allrecipes.com

A German-Themed Evening

Right off the bat I'll admit that what I don't know about German cuisine is a lot.  In 2005 I spent 6 months commuting to Frankfurt and I seem to remember a lot of dishes with hard boiled eggs.  Other than that, the available food leaned heavily to the Tuscan.

However, I recently hosted my book group and the book we read was Louise Erdrich's fable to the German butcher who immigrates to North Dakota after WWI.  Because the food served at the book group tends to be thematic and a stimulant for discussion, I wanted to do something German.  Preferably with sausages or cured ham. 

I quickly wrote my german friends and one not only gave me advice but also arranged to have her mother bring me some packets of ham and a jar of cornichons.  She instructed me that a classic/tradition/common way of serving it was to make open-face sandwiches with a rustic sourdough bread, a pat of butter and a slice of the ham topped with a fanned cornichon.  I did as I was told.  I knew at least my kids would love it! 

As I was putting the sandwiches together it occured to me that I had no idea what each of the four meats were (other than pork and bits).  I tried to do a quick Google search but everything was in German. During the evening I asked a non-native German speaker to help out but all we arrived at was "pork."  So I turned to an expert, Sandy Neumann who writes the German food blog (despite it's name!) Confiture de Vivre.  She explained to me that the coldcuts that we were eating are called Aufschnitt. It is mostly used for sandwiches and always with a pork base.  The Bierschinken and Bierwurst are pork with with pieces of bacon added (pork and pork, right?).  The Lyoner is made from highly salted and sometimes smoked ham.  It orginated as a french import and made its way into German cuisine. I saved the best for last:  the Rotwurst.  It's a blood-sausage.  That is is made by adding cooked pork blood and other cooked meats to the final sausage.  By far of the ones we tasted this was the best and highest quality.  Sandy also suggested, and I can easily imagine, that a local butcher who makes these meats my hand produces a very high quality Aufshnitt.  It makes me want to go to Germany to try for myself! 

Knowing the Aufschnitt to be something of a casual comfort food, I decided to make potato pancakes.  I had never done it before and although it's a bit labor intensive with the grating of the potatoes and onion and the frying, it's very easy.  See the recipe below to try for yourself.

I served everything with crudités and a white sauce of fromage frais, chives, lemon juice and salt and pepper.

Of course there was the beer.  I say "of course" but in fact it wasn't that easy - it's hard to find beer of any kind beyond the major national and international brands (think:  Heineken.)  However, the local health food store stocks imported organic (and organic AND gluten-free) beer - so that's what we drank.

Potato Pancakes

Makes approx. dozen (I doubled the recipe and wished I made more!)

• 4 large potatoes
• 1 onion
• 1 egg
• 2-4 tbsp flour
• Salt and Pepper to taste
• Vegetable oil for frying

Grate the potatoes and onion into a large bowl. I used the smallest julienne setting on my mandoline but a large-hole box grater would work fine.

Mix the egg and add to the potato-onion mixture.  Add just enough flour so the mass holds loosly together.

Heat about 1/8 inch of oil over high heat.  Once the oil is hot but not smoking, reduce the heat to medium high and add a spoonful of potato mix.  Flatten the pancake with a spatula and continue until you fill the pan (though not crowded). Once pancakes are showing golden on the edges, flip them over and cook the other side (about 6 minutes total).  Drain on papertowels.

YUM!  Don't forget to share!

Source:  Recipe adapted from recipes found on Allrecipes.com

Autumn Chestnuts and Crème de Marrons

 

On an early fall day in 2001 my not-then husband and I set out for a day hike in the alps of Corsica.  The nights (and mornings) were cold but by midday we would be wearing just shorts and t-shirts.  Such is fall in the south of France.  It was our first “real” hike together.  Stakes were high- my husband was raised in the shadow of the Pyrenees and has been a mountaineer all his life.  The hike was a way to share what he loved.  Would I get a passing grade?  Not quite halfway up we stopped to eat our picnic lunch.  He packed some terrific Corsican salami and cheese, a baguette, fruit and what looked like a tube of toothpaste – what he called desert.  It was, he said, chestnut paste.  He opened and let me try it – sugary and bit grainy. I handed the tube back and he squirted a generous amount chestnut goo into his mouth.  I was bewildered by his enthusiasm and he explained that it was often his mountain treat because it was easy to pack and lasted a long time. 

Flash forward a number of years and a jar of crème de marrons is a staple in our refrigerator.  Turns out that it is used not just as mountain food but often like a jam – on toast, in yogurt,  or as filling for pies or cakes.  My children like it on toast.  Mid-autumn is the harvest period for chestnuts and recently friends brought us a small bag from a day trip in the mountains to collect them.  I decided it would be fun to learn how to make crème de marrons.

In North America, chestnuts grew natively and were cultivated for both the nut and the wood (which is as strong as oak but lighter).  The nut was common and was used in a variety ways until the middle of the 19^th century when the native species was nearly wiped out nationwide by a parasite.  Entire forests were decimated in what seemed to be overnight.  In Europe, the chestnut has been cultivated in mountainous areas around the Mediterranean where cereals cannot grow for thousands of years.  Chestnuts were largely dried and ground into flour and used as substitute for cereal flours in breads, cakes and other pastries.  The fresh nuts were eaten raw, or roasted or candied for feast days.

In modern times, chestnuts are again being cultivated in North America on the east and west coasts, the Midwest and Florida. Fresh chestnuts are available in farmer’s markets, specialty grocery stores and via mail order from the farms directly.  In France, fresh chestnuts find their way into supermarkets or specialty markets in the fall and people go out and pick them from public lands (or their gardens!).

I had no idea how to make crème de marrons but it turns out be easy although there is a little work at the beginning getting the nuts out of the shells.  The process of making it though was so cozy and I ended up having a new affinity for the “goo” as I used to refer to it.  To get the nuts out of the shells, I boiled them for about 10 minutes until they softened.  The water turned tea-colored and filled the house with a spicy aroma – it smelled like fall.  Once the nuts were out the shell I cooked them until they were full softened then ground them in a blender. I then added them to boiled sugar water with a vanilla bean and cooked it until it thickened.  Voila! Crème de marrons!  My American variation was to spread it onto a sliced apple, like we would normally do with peanut butter.  It was absolutely delicious, especially when the crème was still warm.

My children were so excited at the treat and quickly consumed the amount  I made over a week’s breakfasts.  I love that I have learned to make something that will undoubtedly be similar comforting to them as it was for E and for the generations before him.

Crème de Marrons

Ingredients to make approximately 1 cup

• 1 pound fresh chestnuts
• 3/4c sugar
• 1 1/2 c water
• half vanilla bean

Preparation

Make a small cut in each chestnut with a paring knife and then cover with water in a medium saucepan.  Bring to a boil then lower heat to medium (low boil) for 10 minutes.  The water will become a brown tea color with a nice aroma.  Drain.  When still warm but cool enough to handle, remove the outer shell. (If you wait too long the shells will harden again)   So far so good - the most labororious part is over.

Put the chestnuts back into the saucepan and cover with water again.  Simmer for another 10 minutes.  Once you can easily break the nut with a fork, they are done.  Drain and emulsify in a blender or food processor.  Keep warm.

Bring water and sugar to a boil and reduce until slightly thickened.  Add ground chestnuts and vanilla bean and simmer (low bubble) until thick and creamy, approximately 20 minutes.  Stir frequently so that sugar doesn't burn to the bottom of the pan. 

Keep it in the fridge for up to a week or you can preserve it using the canning method of your choice. 

You're done!  Enjoy!

Sources: 

Fauve-Chamoux, Antionette. 2000. "Chestnuts" The Cambridge World History of Food
Fox, Sam. 1997. American Chestnut Story.
Recipe adapted from user-submitted recipes on Marmiton (in French)

Autumn Chestnuts and Crème de Marrons

 

On an early fall day in 2001 my not-then husband and I set out for a day hike in the alps of Corsica.  The nights (and mornings) were cold but by midday we would be wearing just shorts and t-shirts.  Such is fall in the south of France.  It was our first “real” hike together.  Stakes were high- my husband was raised in the shadow of the Pyrenees and has been a mountaineer all his life.  The hike was a way to share what he loved.  Would I get a passing grade?  Not quite halfway up we stopped to eat our picnic lunch.  He packed some terrific Corsican salami and cheese, a baguette, fruit and what looked like a tube of toothpaste – what he called desert.  It was, he said, chestnut paste.  He opened and let me try it – sugary and bit grainy. I handed the tube back and he squirted a generous amount chestnut goo into his mouth.  I was bewildered by his enthusiasm and he explained that it was often his mountain treat because it was easy to pack and lasted a long time. 

Flash forward a number of years and a jar of crème de marrons is a staple in our refrigerator.  Turns out that it is used not just as mountain food but often like a jam – on toast, in yogurt,  or as filling for pies or cakes.  My children like it on toast.  Mid-autumn is the harvest period for chestnuts and recently friends brought us a small bag from a day trip in the mountains to collect them.  I decided it would be fun to learn how to make crème de marrons.

In North America, chestnuts grew natively and were cultivated for both the nut and the wood (which is as strong as oak but lighter).  The nut was common and was used in a variety ways until the middle of the 19^th century when the native species was nearly wiped out nationwide by a parasite.  Entire forests were decimated in what seemed to be overnight.  In Europe, the chestnut has been cultivated in mountainous areas around the Mediterranean where cereals cannot grow for thousands of years.  Chestnuts were largely dried and ground into flour and used as substitute for cereal flours in breads, cakes and other pastries.  The fresh nuts were eaten raw, or roasted or candied for feast days.

In modern times, chestnuts are again being cultivated in North America on the east and west coasts, the Midwest and Florida. Fresh chestnuts are available in farmer’s markets, specialty grocery stores and via mail order from the farms directly.  In France, fresh chestnuts find their way into supermarkets or specialty markets in the fall and people go out and pick them from public lands (or their gardens!).

I had no idea how to make crème de marrons but it turns out be easy although there is a little work at the beginning getting the nuts out of the shells.  The process of making it though was so cozy and I ended up having a new affinity for the “goo” as I used to refer to it.  To get the nuts out of the shells, I boiled them for about 10 minutes until they softened.  The water turned tea-colored and filled the house with a spicy aroma – it smelled like fall.  Once the nuts were out the shell I cooked them until they were full softened then ground them in a blender. I then added them to boiled sugar water with a vanilla bean and cooked it until it thickened.  Voila! Crème de marrons!  My American variation was to spread it onto a sliced apple, like we would normally do with peanut butter.  It was absolutely delicious, especially when the crème was still warm.

My children were so excited at the treat and quickly consumed the amount  I made over a week’s breakfasts.  I love that I have learned to make something that will undoubtedly be similar comforting to them as it was for E and for the generations before him.

Crème de Marrons

Ingredients to make approximately 1 cup

• 1 pound fresh chestnuts
• 3/4c sugar
• 1 1/2 c water
• half vanilla bean

Preparation

Make a small cut in each chestnut with a paring knife and then cover with water in a medium saucepan.  Bring to a boil then lower heat to medium (low boil) for 10 minutes.  The water will become a brown tea color with a nice aroma.  Drain.  When still warm but cool enough to handle, remove the outer shell. (If you wait too long the shells will harden again)   So far so good - the most labororious part is over.

Put the chestnuts back into the saucepan and cover with water again.  Simmer for another 10 minutes.  Once you can easily break the nut with a fork, they are done.  Drain and emulsify in a blender or food processor.  Keep warm.

Bring water and sugar to a boil and reduce until slightly thickened.  Add ground chestnuts and vanilla bean and simmer (low bubble) until thick and creamy, approximately 20 minutes.  Stir frequently so that sugar doesn't burn to the bottom of the pan. 

Keep it in the fridge for up to a week or you can preserve it using the canning method of your choice. 

You're done!  Enjoy!

Sources: 

Fauve-Chamoux, Antionette. 2000. "Chestnuts" The Cambridge World History of Food
Fox, Sam. 1997. American Chestnut Story.
Recipe adapted from user-submitted recipes on Marmiton (in French)

Alice Waters Celebrated in LeMonde 2

 

Last weekend Alice Waters was profiled in LeMonde 2 (link in french) the equivalent of the New York Times Magazine.  The profile was part of the hubbub around the 40th Anniversary of Chez Panisse. 

The profile in Le Monde and the earlier speech at her award of the Legion on Honor in 2010 (this time in english) reflected that not only has Alice Waters been a force of real change and inspiration for many (myself included!), but her own inspiration has been a French culture that the powers that bestow awards obviously think is worth noting and preserving.   I really hope that the French are inspired by what she has done in the US and take the lesson to heart - there is something fundamental worth preserving in France, that is not yet lost but, sadly, is getting harder to find.

What is that? The great agricultural heritage that developed french cuisine and a deeply embedded culture of taking time to share meals with others as a way of deepening relationships - of all kinds.

Eating on the run, at least where I live and work, is still fairly rare though I think becoming more common.  However, most french people I know would still prefer to eat a hot lunch, at a table with others.  "To Go" foods are for certain settings - travel, for instance - but not for day to day.  Even McDonalds makes sure there is a lot of seating for people. Social events still circle around the communal table as evidenced by our party for E.  We debated, since it was a BBQ for 2 dozen adults plus the kids whether we should have be a more help-your-self style.  In the end, I knew that E would prefer a big table and it was a stretch but in my mind totally worth it and really so much better than everyone in little groups with plates on their laps.

Where I am more concerned is our access to food.  The massive supermarkets as in other countries are the main outlet for buying food.  A tip:  If you come to France and see a big red sign for "Casino" it's not a gambling hall but a supermarket.  The industrial agriculture spans France but much more comes from Italy and Spain via trucks that gorge the roadways (another gripe, another time).  Natural food stores are much more like those found in the US 20 years ago.  One good thing - most large markets including Carrefour and Casino buy and package a lot of organic products under their own brand and sell them at a premium alongside the similar non-organic foods. 

The local farmer's markets, most of which are retail markets not direct from producer, are very expensive.  A real alternative where we live is the Community-Supported Agriculture but this remains a very tiny portion of food purchases.  People don't like the inconvenience - one extra trip during the week, a huge load of veggies, the dirt and the preparation.  I don't really like the dirt, either, but I like seeing where my vegetables are growing and know the farmer who's taking care of me.  It goes without saying the vegetable gardens are nearly non-existent, especially for families with two working adults. 

And lastly, restaurants are often subpar except for the very best. There doesn't seem to be this same interest in the quality of the ingredients unless it's really a top restaurant (with prices to match).  Every once in a while I will come across one that's transparent about the provenance of their fresh foods and meats but other times I think it mostly comes packaged frozen in truck and reheated.

What should the French learn from Alice Waters?  That we should ALL eat and cook fresh.  That finding out where our food comes from is worth it.  That restaurants can and should care about what they serve. And schools should teach our children about growing and preparing foods and the joy that comes with that.  At least we're ahead of the game - it is France, after all.