Pour le Goût

Simple Lunch

I was in London over the weekend (more on that later) and while tasting an appetizer of roasted red peppers in a balsamic vinaigrette my dining companion said, "Mmmm, so simple and yet so good." 

I often find the most pleasurable things to eat are simple ones - it's not a new truth.  Yet often "simple" for me often means stale leftovers or something really basic without the time for the details that really make a dish good.  I experience this a lot in family cooking.

Glad to be back in France (and that our hideous cold snap is dissapating and warm sun was shining though our windows), I put together a fast lunch of arugula (or rocket/roquette as some say), fried pancetta under a mustard vinaigrette and poached eggs.  It's a variation on a Lyonnaise salad, one with a mediterranean twist.  It looked so perfect as I took the first bite that I decided to indulge in a rare mid-day glass of wine and snapped the photo before quickly devouring the dish.

Macarons

This past weekend I found myself under the tutelage of the Maître Patissier Grégory Krisanaz at Les Délices de Borriglione in Nice learning how to make macarons.  I'll admit straight away that I'm not much of a baker, preferring low-sugar fruit desserts over sophistcated concotions and though I can enjoy a macaron as a pleasant treat, I don't go into raves when I see them in shop windows.  Perhaps it's my cynic's tendancy against anything super-trendy.  I wondered aloud to a friend over lunch yesterday why they had replaced the cupcake as *the* pastry and she answed without a beat:  "Marie Antionette"! Voilà! Who can resist Kirsten Dunst in her getup with all those macraons? 

Despite my attitude, when a friend offered me an empty spot in the 6-person course and I thought to myself  - Why not?  It's a day out in a real kitchen, which was the highlight for me.  There's nothing equal to having space and all the tools on hand to do the job under the guidance of a pro.  I learned how to effectively mix by hand (turn, scrape, repeat) and some nice little tips along the way.  In the end, I was converted. Evidence:  I ate 3 macarons for breakfast yesterday.

The contemporary macaron is a Parisian innovation of an ancient pastry, originating in Italy and spreading through France in the Middle Ages.  Originaly a single biscuit that is basically a meringue,  it had taken on many variations over time but it was in the 19th century that Parisian patisseries created the brightly colored, filled macarons that are so popular today.  It is through the fillings that macarons take on their intense flavor.  My favorite was the caramel which is basically made of carmelized sugar and a lot of butter.

During our half-day session we made 3 flavors, lemon (below), caramel au beurre salé and chocolate.  Macarons are great for these kinds of cooking classes because the ingredients are fairly simple - ground almonds, powdered sugar, egg whites for the meringe exterior and, depending on the flavor, mostly cream, butter, eggs, sugar and/or chocolate.  Nothing exotic or outlandishly expensive for the home cook.  The downside is that they are labor-intensive to make and you really do need decent tools - a stand mixer and pastry tips/bags.

Here's how we did it:

Making the meringue

 

All macarons get their enticing color from food dyes (except chocolate which is cocoa + red dye!)

Here's me trying to master the pastry bag, and NOT doing it correctly.  Notice my spill at the bottom of the photo.  The Maitre is telling me to get my tip vertical and control the flow with my right hand!

Here's our tray ready for the oven

The baked results.

Making the filling - it's the same as lemon tart, something I make once or twice a year.  A good tip I learned, use a stick blender to get a really smooth mix.

Me filling the macarons - tip is vertical!

Voilà!  The final result.

Have you made them before?  What's your experience? 

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)

End of Summer Ratatouille

  

I love back to school.  I always have.  It’s so full of hope, isn’t it?  New clean supplies ready to put to use.  Even with only one boy in pre-school, which in France is school with no homework, it still feels so full of possibilities.  We’re at the next level, I think.  Only one more year and both boys will be school aged.  And did I tell you I joined the PTA?  I’m going to be on the cafeteria committee and try to convince the town that we need to go all organic, and to stop outsourcing out kids meals to a for-profit company.  But that’s another story.  What September brings with it, usually, is amazing weather.  Warm days, cool nights.  It’s when all the ingredients for one of Nice’s most famous dish are in over-abundance and the night are cool enough to want something warm and cozy.

It’s time to make ratatouille.

The main ingredients, - eggplant (aubergine), zucchini (courgettes), onion, sweet peppers, tomatoes, garlic and olive oil were all in the Mediterranean cuisine by the 14^th century.  Ratatouille arrived around the 18^th and the word officially entered the French language in 1778.    

How do you make ratatouille?

 

Beyond the basic ingredients there is no “right” way to make ratatouille.  There are those that create a true stew, slow cooking the vegetables all together in one pot.  Others roast the vegetables together in a large gratin with aromatics.  Then there are those advocates for cooking the vegetables separately first and then combining them. Afterwards there are variations on seasonings, how finely the vegetables are chopped and the final service – as side dish with meat?  Or with a grain (polenta, pasta, couscous, etc) as main dish?  Or puréed into a soup, as I learned from the Potager cookbook by Georganne Brennan (my kids prefer this version with crusty bread.)

I’ve eaten them all and I like the roasted vegetable version as a side dish and for a ragout I’m definitely of the camp of cooking the vegetables individually first and then combining them into a stew. 

My Way

 

   

I make ratatouille in BIG batches when we receive more veggies in early September than will fit into my fridge.  My method is to sautee the onions and garlic until wilted, then add chopped up tomatoes and their juice.  I cook the other veggies individually – originally I sautéed them but now I roast/grill them in the oven (on a grill would work great too), then add the roasted veggies to the sauce.  Then cook some more, adding fresh aromatics at the end. 

For fun I’ve also tried adding some spices into the tomatoe sauce – coriander and cumin work well.  Also, esplette from the basque country or even harissa from Morocco.  In each case I add the spices at the end of the onion/garlic sautee before I add the tomatoes.

If you've made ratatouille before I'd love to hear your method or any new variations - I'm sure my family would appreciate it!

The recipe:

Serves 4.

Ingredients:

• 2 each each eggplant, pepper, zucchini
• 8 medium tomatoes, peeled and roughly chopped.
• 2 medium onions, halved and thinly sliced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced.
• Fresh basil and/or thyme. (I’ve also used parsley, and mint)
• A couple of glugs of olive oil plush more for brushing veggies.

 

1. Light the grill or broiler (210 degrees C).
2. In a large stockpot put in enough olive oil to sautée the onions.  Once transclucent add the garlic and cook 3 minutes more.  Add the tomatoes and bring to a simmer until the tomatoes are completely broken down, approximately 30 minutes.
3. While sauce is simmering, trim and peel the eggplant and slice into ½ inch  rounds.  Trim, core and flatten the peppers. Trim and slice zuccini lengthwise into 1/4 inch slices. 
4. Without overlapping put veggies on an oven pan and brush with olive oil.  Place peppers directly under the broiler and broil until skins turn black, around 10 minutes.  The other veggies can be placed in middle racks, up to 3 pans at a time.  Rotate pans (except peppers) half way through.
5. Eggplant and courgettes will turn darker and translucent.  Remove all and let cool enough to handle.
6. Remove skins from peppers and roughly chop.  Chop eggplant and courgettes.  Add all to the tomato sauce.
7. Simmer at least another 20 minutes or on low flame/heat for up to 2 hours.  Adjust seasoning and add aromatics just before serving.

Soup Variation (based on Georganne Brennan's recipe in her book Potager)

• Purée finsihed ratatouille
• Just before serving swirl in 2-3 tablespoons cream and adjust seasonings.

All photos from istockphoto. 

Summer Tomato Soup with help from Jamie Oliver

I'll be the first to admit that I'm an eater first and a cook second.  Don't get me wrong. I take pleasure in the act of cooking but my favorite moments are just before I start and looking at some wonderful perfect ingredients and at the end - a yummy meal.    I usually think of tomato soup as a warming fall and winter dish.  However, the tomatoes are at their ripest and most plentiful now so it earlier this week transforming some massively ripe coeur de beouf tomatoes into a summer soup.  If I had a home, I might have frozen some for later in the fall, but as it is we cook and eat for the moment.

I borrowed Jamie Oliver's recipe which I really like for two reasons: Grating the carrots instead of dicing, and enriching the soup with egg yolks and cream. That extra bit balanced nicely the tomato-ness of the soup and gave it a little body (if you know what I mean).  This is one of those that everyone in my family will eat with gusto and did double duty last night as a sauce for beef daube-stuffed ravioli.

What To Do With All That Eggplant? Help From the NY Times

via www.nytimes.com

It's baba ganouj season at our house and there's really only so much one can eat.  A friend made a nice lentil dish with summer tomatoes and eggplant which I will try later this week.  Still, I have at least 5 left in the fridge with undoubtably more on the way with this Friday's veggie pickup at the CSA.  What to do?

Luckily, Melissa Clark at the NY Times tried and shares some recipes.  I really want to try the grilled eggplant salad - yum!

Rental-Apartment Kitchen

My thinking and writing about food has hit a dry patch.  We're in the full force of summer with full baskets of vegetables and fruits but with the renovation I have little time to cook or even eat.  We scrape together what we can.  At least with summer here we can eat a lot raw, out of the sack.

Still - I have to cook at least one meal a day and now that we're near the end of our apartment stay I can truly say it's been a challenge. At first glance, the kitchen is pretty functional.  There is a dishwasher, microwave, coffee maker, toaster and a cupboard full of pots and pans.  However, there are a couple of major limitations that makes cooking for a family of four on a daily basis a challenge.

Here's what I have to work with:

A two-eye electric burner.  It takes *forever* to boil a pan of water.  But when it's hot, it's hot!  I learned to cook in shifts.  The pan of new potatoes from the Ile de Ré became a super yummy potato salad.

Two paring knives.  Seriously.  No kitchen knife.  My husband and I think up challenges.  He's won so far when I tasked him with taking apart of whole roasting chicken to braise.

We don't have an oven, either, but this hasn't bothered me too much.  There have been a few times in the last two months when I wished for one to keep food warm but since it's summer I get by fine without it.

 

 

moulin de mougins

I am an amateur cook. A home cook.  My learning to cook was in fits and starts.  And I wonder - did I lack interest?  Aptitude?  Were my parents uninterested in teaching us how to cook?  I remember:  learning how to make omelets (western-style with lots of cheese and salsa).  My friend Jen, even in high-school, being a natural and me bumbling along just to make a batch of cookies.  This still holds true today.  I mean, I'm not a bad cook, and may even be better than most.  But I'm a much better, more discerning, eater than cook.

And I feel bad about it.  Like I should, at some point, really get the hang of it and know pretty much all there is to know about cooking, at least in the home environment. That's me: Wanting, and luckily failing, to be a know-it-all.

So, for my birthday last year, my friends pitched in and bought me an awesome gift:  3 sessions at the cooking school at the restaurant Moulin de Mougins.  E and I had dined there under Alain Llorca's reign and it was the meal that finally soured me to Michelin (more on that in another post).  Now, there was a new chef in town and they had set up a school kitchen and were offering home-cook-friendly 2-hour sessions.

I had no idea what to expect - I've never taking a cooking class in my life.  Over the course of a month I took classes in sauces, risotto and fresh pasta.  Not much French cuisine there!  The other guests were a mix of affluent housewives, serious enthusiasts, and even a yacht cook there with his girlfriend. We were each given a butcher-block station to work with and the classes were led either by the restaurant chef, Sébastien Chambru or his sous-chef. We were given booklets with the instructions and recipes for the sessions dishes and plenty of space to take notes. Over the course of the sessions I made classic risotto, fried risotto balls, fresh pasta with ink, tomato, various raviolis and listened to a lecture on creating good sauce bases.

Towards the end of each session, just before the chef had to leave to attend the lunch service, we drank a glass of champagne and ate part of what we'd made and packed up the rest to take home.

Did I learn anything?  I learned that fine restaurants really do buy the best ingredients and that they really cost a lot of money.  The recommended arborio rice costs 14€ / pound (almost $20) at the local italian deli!

Still,  my risotto is better from just a few little changes and more confidence in deciding on combinations to add.  I make fresh pasta since I received the attachment for my stand-mixer for christmas and relish having made it ourselves.  I learned how to make a real carbonara sauce.  I always avoided it because it looked so yucky coming out of kitchens - all that cream!  bleh.  I never even thought to learn to make it  but the chef made some so we could eat our fresh pasta at the end of the session and to watch him transform cooked pasta with a little egg, cooking liquid, salt, pepper and Parmesan was relevatory.

After my 3 sessions I can say I know *slightly* more than I did before and am definitely more confident making pasta.  It's been a year since then and now I would love to have a course (or several) on doing vegetables of all kinds - from salads, tortes, gratins and even stir frys. 

Have you taking cooking classes?  In which ones do you learn the most? Have the most fun?

Early Christmas: Fresh Pasta

As part of last year's birthday present I took a cooking class with the chef's at the Moulin de Mougin. Of the 3 I took the one that was the most inspiring was making fresh pasta.  It is easy, fun to make and so much better than store-bought.  Unfortunately, you really need a maching to roll it (despite foodies that say otherwise).  Lucky for me, my mom bought me the roller attachment for my KitchenAid mixer for Christmas.  It rocks!

Boo and I made a batch of noodles in 20 minutes not counting the resting time.  He really got into the kneading part and of course the machine was interesting (watch your fingers!).  The recipe:

2 cups all-purpose flour

2 eggs

There are all sorts of tutorials online.  I liked Jamie Oliver's since it's in his usual practical and low-key style.  As I cut it, I hung it on wire hanger covered with parchment paper, in turn hung on a cabinet knob above the kichen counter. The result was awesome chewy al-dente texture.

The next time I do it (this weekend?) I will use the recipe from the Moulin de Mougins that combines fine-milled type 00 flour with semolina.  It really helps with the texture, especially when doing thin sheets for stuffed pasta (ravioli, tortellini, etc). 

Thanks, Mom!