Chaource Apéro Tarte

A certain wind is blowing in the valley and it makes us want to go up into the hills and just breathe in through our nose and hop out over the rocks in hopes to find a crocus pushing through the melting snow. It's not time yet. The cold is holding on but it won't forever. The outing has us in the mood for something easy and warm. In the fruitbowl we have some pears, and some cheese. Crack some hazelnuts. This will do.

Chaource Apéro Tarte
3 yellow pears
1 whole Chaource, or picodon, or some kind of tangy salty chevre
some pâte feuilletée or brisée whatever you have
30 grams shelled and crushed hazelnuts
2 Tablespoons honey
3 Tablespoons olive oil

-Wash the pears but don't peel them. Cut in half from stem down, remove the core, and slice each half into 6 lengthwise slices.
-Preheat oven to 200C/400F.
-Heat 2T. olive oil in a skillet with 2 T. honey. Put the pear slices on top, reduce heat, and let cook over low heat for 3-4 minutes.
-Slice the Chaource into very thin slices.
-Roll the pâte out 3-4 mm thick. Rollup the edges to make them look pretty, and prick with a fork all over. Put the circle of crust onto a flat oven proof pan.
-Arrange the pear slices in a wreath on the tart base, and lay the cheese between the slices of pear. All over the surface of the tart base. Sprinkle the crushed hazelnuts over all and drizzle the remaining 1 T. olive oil over the surface.
-Bake for 15 minutes.

How to make a homespun soufflé

The consummate home economist, Madame St. Ange tells us how to make a potato soufflé for the family dinner table. I 'update' and divide the recipe by 3, mess it up and even then it tastes divine. It is a ramekin of breakfast goodness.

Breakfast Potato Soufflé

1 egg
twice its volume in old potatoes
2 teaspoons butter
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon spice mix maison
2 teaspoons cream cheese or creme fraiche
a pinch cream of tartar

Preheat the oven to about 375F/175C. Separate your egg, putting the white in a medium sized mixing bowl and the yolk on a saucer. Set aside. Pierce the potatoes with a fork and nuke them until soft. Working while they're hot, remove the skin and mash with a fork in a saucepan. Over low heat to evaporate moisture, add the butter with a wooden spoon, vigorously working the potatoes and butter until their form a thick homogenous paste. Add the cream cheese one spoon at a time. Off heat, add the egg yolk and the seasonings, and fully incorporate them. Beat the egg white with the cream of tartar until it forms stiff peaks. Take 1/3 of the beaten egg white and incorporate it gently into the potato mixture. In turn, add the potato mixture to the bowl containing the remaining egg whites, and carefully fold it together. Transfer this to a ramekin, and smooth the top with a knife. Place in a medium oven for 15 to 20 minutes, or until the top is brown. It will puff up. Not really like a soufflé, but enough to be considered elegant and of a delectable nutritious consistency. Make note to double or triple this recipe the next time. Always eat your potato soufflé immediately, while hot and steamy. One more example of a dish where the result is an elegant 'much more than the sum of its parts'.

Divinity

Standing on a footstool beside my grandmother Cille in the kitchen when I was too small to see above the stovetop without it, I received the secrets of this notorious home made candy from the South. It is a candy that requires patience and watchful eye for time. Cille saw that my mind was growing, she taught me my left from right at about that same time, and how to tie my shoe, and she could see that like other children my age I was anxious and impatient and my life adventures were squeezing through the seconds and minutes without understanding how to get a grasp of them. I wasn’t ready to read a clock and a few minutes could seem like an hour, just like an hour could pass in the blink of an eye. I was lacking the constant meter that comes with rigor and habits, so she taught me, in her patient careful way, the stepping stones to Divinity.

Bright sunny days are divinity days. Crisp winter days were best where we grew up, because then there is a draw between playing outside or staying in to make divinity. Honestly, when Cille was visiting, I’d give up anything for some one on one time with her.

First you have to get the sugar boiling. Then when it is a syrup and it begins to bubble, the syrup moves through easily recognizable stages from a foamy rapid boil, through several swells and changes in appearance that rise and fall like predictable tides, and then finally reaches the point when it settles down and the bubbles grow and pop in a certain thoughtful kind of way. That’s the time to begin the testing. Every few minutes we’d drop a little bit of the hot syrup into ice water. After an agonizing wait the sugar finally acted right and became a hard ball. These landmarks are easy enough for a child to grasp.

As the beaters turned in the stiffly beaten egg whites, she poured the sugar syrup so excruciatingly slow that I thought I might just die from the suspense. She insisted that adding it in a thin almost hair-like stream was the secret to a successful divinity. When enough had been added to give it some body, the flavorings came, vanilla, or some brandy, and the color. When Cille and I made divinity together, she always let me choose the color. Then the rest of the syrup went in, ever so slowly but fast enough that it never hardened in the pan.

The end comes quickly when making Divinity. One minute you’re shuffling from one foot to the other wondering when it will ever end, and the next minute the sheen fades and you find yourself spooning it down on the waxed paper in rich voluptuous dollops. Cille often pushed a pecan into the center of each one just after spooning it down. The candy grips the buttery nut like the head of a sleepy child in the pillow at nap time.

My mother reminisces about Cille's teaching days, and says she used to make pink divinity for her class every year on Valentines day. This year I decided to make pink divinity.

Weekend Guests

When weekend guests are coming, I certainly prepare in advance, but I don't like to plan exactly is going to be served at the table. Most of my preparations are things I do to make things easier for myself when the time comes to fix dinner. Trying to stick exactly to a menu and schedule doesn't work for me. Flexibility is important when you have guests that stay a few days, you never know what they're going to want to do. I love weekend guests because my house is clean, the fridge is stocked, and we've got great company to visit with! I've spent some quality time in advance to give myself lots of choices about what to serve.

Prepare a bunch of things halfway - I make sure I have fresh pastry crust chilled in the fridge, I have a pot of veal stock and a pot of chicken stock going, I have a nice herb bouquet, etc. So that we can look together at the market and choose something fresh to flesh out the larder. It's nice to include them in the meal planning, and I can ask them what they're in the mood for.

This weekend my sister-in-law had a baby, the first of her generation. The proud grandparents came to stay chez nous, and I served simple things like tartes, soups, and individual terrines which were a breeze to serve and I could use as a backup when I didn't have time. Of course I did my very best and served food that tasted just right, but I didn't try any fancy culinary feats nor did I make big messes in the kitchen while they were here either.

It's best, when you have family to visit, to give them your best but also make sure not to spend too much time or money. That way they not only feel welcome, but comfortable that you're enjoying them - they get good home cooked meals without feeling like the host is working too hard.

I did do some things to prepare in advance before they arrived so that the dishes they were served would have that extra touch. For example I made a rutabaga and smoked pork belly puree which was applied in a layer to the bottom of a quiche to give it that special something. I prepared a veal demi-glace to add that touch of home made richness to soups and purees, but I didn't spend too much time in the kitchen around mealtimes.

After a long afternoon visiting with Aude's new baby, we came home and it was easy to throw together a batch of little aperetif tartlettes to take the edge off while I prepared a nice chicken potato soup with that morning's market pickings.

Friday's dinner was a simple pork belly quiche, salad, and the cheese plate.
Saturday lunch we enjoyed a Parsnip salad, magret de canard with vin de noix / veal liaison sauce, cheese plate, and parsnip cake.

Saturday dinner were the little tartlettes above, potato and chicken soup, salad, and cheese.
Sunday lunch were individual chicken and lentil terrines, cabillaud with a sabayon, salad, cheese plate, and birthday cake for Yves.

Moules Marinières

At the market Saturday morning, we'd been down and back up again, and the man who sells oysters gave us a super price on a couple of pounds of mussels - we took him up on it immediately because we know him well and eat his oysters all the time. Loic gave them a scrape and a scrub while I minced the shallots and prepared the ingredients, and in no time we were deep into a platter of steaming hot delicious mussels. For a batch of 3-4 pounds of mussels:

Moules Marinières

3-4 pounds of mussels
2 big shallots
1 clove of garlic (optional)
1 bouquet of thyme, bay leaf, and a sprig of tarragon
25 grams butter
freshly ground black pepper
25 cl (a glass) of dry white wine
juice of two lemons
1/2 a bunch of parsley

Brush and wash the mussels under running water, eliminate the mussels that don't close up during the process. Peel and mince the shallots and garlic, wash and mince the parsley.

Melt the butter in the bottom of a pot that will eventually hold all of the mussels. Add the shallots and garlic, and saute it over medium heat until it's soft, without browning it. Add the white wine, the lemon juice, and plenty of pepper. Add the herb bouquet, bring to a rolling boil, and let boil for 3 minutes.

Toss the mussels into the boiling liquid, cover, and let cook for 4 minutes, shaking the pot to mix a few times. As soon as the moules have opened, remove from the heat.

Remove the bouquet garni, and with a large slotted spoon, transfer the mussels to a platter. Use a soup ladle to top them with the cooking liquid, , being careful not to stir up any sediment that may be on the bottom. Dust liberally with minced parsley and serve immediately. (don't leave out the parsley, it really adds to the experience!)

Piping Hot Gougères

Gougeres are easy. They are also delicious, and can be seasoned and stuffed in so many ways. The next time you have guests, whip up some gougeres to go with the aperetif. They are a great way to say you care and much less expensive than gourmet snacks or nuts! I estimate that making a batch of gougeres which yields about 3 dozen bite sized cheese puffs costs approximately €1,70, and you don't have to buy anything special in order to make them. Choux paste is seasoned with my house spices and whatever cheese I have on hand, to make a welcoming start to a meal. They go perfectly well with a Chablis, or a Clairette, Cremant, or Champagne.

Gougères (a small batch)

125 ml water
50g. butter or 40g. duck fat
1/2 teaspoon salt
75 g. flour
2 teaspoons spice mix maison
100g. fresh grated Parmesan or a mix of Parmesan and Emmenthal
a grate of fresh nutmeg
2 eggs

Mix your flour, spice mix, and nutmeg together and have it ready to use. Put the fat and salt into a saucepan with the water. Bring to a rolling boil. Add the flour mixture, all at once. Beat vigorously by hand with a wooden spoon over the heat until the dough begins to separate from the edge of the pan, having lost some moisture. Remove from the heat and incorporate the first egg fully with the wooden spoon, then the second. Mix in the grated cheese. Place rounded teaspoon-fulls on a cookie sheet lined with parchment. Bake at 210 C / 400 F until they turn golden brown. Turn off and open the oven slightly to keep them warm until service.

Note of thanks to the reader who kindly prompted me to keep my ml and cl's straight!

Uses of Parsnips

What I do know about them: We find them freshly harvested here at the markets starting in January. Their sweetness develops when they're cooked, and they are especially sweet when harvested after the first frost. The older a parsnip is, the more "woody" it's going to be, so beware of large parsnips. Choose parsnips as you would carrots, they should be crisp and firm. They're sweet. They're sold under the name Panais here in France.

Three experiments worth trying: Parsnip cake, like carrot cake. Confit de Panais to serve with liver pate. Parsnips grated into fruit salad.


Parsnip salad:
Grated parsnips, mayonnaise, spice mix maison, and extra fresh ground black pepper.

Parsnip Cake (one layer, can be doubled):

1 cup cake flour (+2T. type 55 if you are in France)
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon fresh ground nutmeg
2 large eggs
90ml duck fat, at room temp
90 grams granulated sugar
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/4 cup milk
2 cups shredded parsnips

Mix dry ingredients together and set aside. In a mixing bowl, whisk together the eggs, duck fat, sugars, and milk until well blended. Stir in the dry ingredients until just combined. Fold in the parsnips. Put into a one layer pan or small loaf pan and bake at 175C/300F for about 30 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean.