Ski Meals: Fondue

We love to ski in the Jura, where mysterious trails wind up into thick forest, then break out to round a peak along the edge of vistas like you've never seen before. After this reward, an exhilarating descent awaits. Another favorite is at Les Houches in the Alps, where you have to get the lift but the backdrop of Mont Blanc is so awe inspiring that you quickly find your rhythm along rippling trails, drenched in sunlight above the clouds. At Villard de Lans, in the Vercours mountain range near Grenoble, they have a great bunch of trails, excellently conceived and full of variety. If you have time, you can actually ski out into the mountain and stay at an Auberge between stations. The auberge features a full style restaurant and rooms for overnight stays. The next day, you can head to the next station.

While a ski picnic is always in order, fondue is a great way to end a ski day. Once the sun falls and you're relaxed after an active day on the trails, something warm and rich is always perfect. In the ski towns, tartiflette is popular, as well as fondue and raclette. You'll always find restaurants that serve them. But doesn't it always seem better to prepare one at home?

Fondue for 4


When we prepare a fondue at home, I don't use corn starch, which apparently makes it thicker and less stringy. We love our fondue to be stringy and stretchy and we like the juice to soak into the bread. The bread for a fondue should be either old bread which you have cut into cubes and left out to dry, or toasted in the oven. In any case, it should be nice and hard, like croutons.

1 clove of garlic
1/3 pound or around 200 grams each of mixed French mountain cheeses, Comte, Beaufort, and Emmanthal, grated.
a cup of a dry white wine, preferably a Vin de Savoie
2 tablespoons good kirsch
a grate or two of fresh nutmeg (optional)
1 egg yolk or two

While someone builds a fire, and still others change into comfortable slippers and drape themselves with woolen shawls and sweaters and look at the books, take out the fondue pot. Appoint someone to choose the music and pour everyone a glass of wine. Crush a clove of garlic, and rub the crushed garlic all over the inside of the fondue pot. In a separate pan like a saucepan, heat the grated cheese and wine in it until it melts, stirring carefully. Fill and light the fuel capsule under the fondue pot, putting on the diffuser to keep the flame relatively low. Put the melted cheese mixture into the garlicked fondue pot and place it in its base over the flame. Add the kirsch and nutmeg if you're using it, and stir it up. Distribute the hardened bread pieces, and begin dipping the bread cubes into the hot steaming melted cheese, using the special color coded spears. If anyone loses their bread from too vigorous stirring or scraping, house rules indicate that they are penalized in some way. You choose that penalty and agree on it with others. Some ideas might be they have to go to the cold dusky cave for a bottle of wine, or they have to put a log on the fire, or something that will make them feel really sorry for having been greedy and pushy with their bread. Really there is plenty to go around. When you have just a little bit left, like a half an inch in the bottom, and even the smallest flame can't keep it from beginning to sizzle, extinguish the flame. Add the egg yolks and stir them into the hot cheese. This will thicken the last bit and make it extra delicious.

Restaurant Dogs

It's true, now that I think of it. Most of my favorite restaurants feature a resident dog or two. Theres the German Shepherd at the Southwest place, and the New Orleans restaurant in the 3rd where I used to go for chili that had a pair of Whippets. Restaurant dogs by nature have to be calm, cool and collected. They never whine or beg, and something really important has to happen if they are going to do anything but disceetly keep an eye on things. These two are often seen at their favorite sentry spot out front at Leon de Lyon. They love it when the paparazzi snaps photos of them on their red carpet.

Menu for Hope 4 - Lunches for Lesotho

This is the fourth year that Pim is calling on everyone to donate prizes to be raffled off to raise funds for people in need around the world, an event called Menu for Hope. This year, in the project administered by the Word Food Program, all proceeds will go a school lunch program for a community in Lesotho, Africa. Pim sent a box of disposible cameras to the community and asked them to take pictures themselves. Go to her blog and take a look at these beautiful photographs, friends. They are are simply stunnng and add a really needed human dimension to our holiday charitable giving.

The genius in this event is that not only can you give to keep these children fed at school, but you can also win prizes! In a nutshell, each $10 donation puts you in the running to win the prize of your choice, from a whole list of great ones donated by chefs, foodbloggers, and food professionals around the world. Think of each $10 you donate as a ticket to win. You choose the prizes! Winners will be announced on January 9th. To see all of the prizes worldwide, see Pim's global list, and to see the prizes donated by European food bloggers, go to see Fanny at Foodbeam, our regional host this year.

Prize No. EU21 - Shipped Anywhere in the World

Imagine this pretty vintage print advertising Beurre de Normandie in your kitchen! I have got to figure out a way to make a photo do this magnificent vintage print justice! Printed on parchment, the document is about 70 years old. This is not a reproduction, but an original document, printed by Lepelletier. Value: priceless! It would add the perfect touch to any butter loving cook's kitchen or diningroom! The document measures 12 inches square (30 x 30 cm), although the image floating in the center itself measures 9" x 10 1/4" (23 x 26 cm).

To bid on this prize or any of the others, go to the Menu for Hope 4 Firstgiving website and click to bid! Make sure to put the prize no. EU21 next to your bid(s) and use a valid email address, clicking the option which allows them to see your email address, so they can contact you if you win!

Winter Greens: Brussels Sprouts

Back in my earliest school days, I had to develop a little category in my mind to classify certain forbidden food subjects, like Brussels sprouts. I always loved them because they reminded me of little Tom Thumb cabbages. One by one as I devoured them from my plate, I imagined these little heads of cabbage set out on bowls made of pearly shells in the middle of little peoples’ dinner tables constructed of spools and playing cards. I always asked for more.

My very best friend was in another class. I only saw her during our recess time on the playground. One day, during one of our meetings by the jungle gym, talk went to Brussels sprouts. This beloved winter vegetable fell into a group of foods like liver, spinach, and asparagus for most of the group. My friend and I had enjoyed Brussels sprouts many times together, so I was prepared to team up with her and defend them. Before I had a chance to profess what I thought was our rebellious love for them and maybe start a club for Brussels sprouts lovers, my very best friend loudly proclaimed that she HATED them too – to a chorus of agreement from other children! So I just listened. She had a certain wisdom for a 6 year old, she knew in advance that there’s no convincing the playground Brussels sprouts haters. I watched them commiserate with a smile and wondered how other kids’ mothers cooked them.

Brussels sprouts are now in their prime and will be with us fresh at the market until late winter. Now is the time to get your sight calibrated on what an ultra fresh Brussels sprout looks like – It is firm and green, and the freshest ones will have a clean white base where they’ve been cut from their stem, not brown or yellowed. The leaves won’t be loose or open, but closed tight like a nut. In France, the Brussels sprouts are smaller than what we find in the states, but they still taste the same. You can’t go wrong at the farmer’s market, where they should be fresh right now.

The key to keeping the good flavor of Brussels sprouts is not to cook them too long. When they’ve been cooked too long, their color fades and they take on a stale bitter flavor. The foolproof way to cook Brussels sprouts is to wash them well, score the base with a cross-wise cut to help them cook more evenly, and parboil them for 5 minutes in salted water. They can be parboiled in advance, and kept until you're ready to bake them. Once they’ve come out of their hot water bath, place them stem side down into a dish that you have coated thickly with butter. They will absorb the butter in the hot oven from the bottom. Top with bacon, roasted chestnuts, or a simple mornay sauce, and protect them with a piece of baking paper. 15 minutes in a 350 degree oven and they'll be ready to take to the table. My favorite quick topping is bacon.

Vin Chaud

We covered confiture and yogurt jars with decorated tissue paper

to give a stained glass effect for the Fete des Lumieres

After you've been out walking, when the chilly night air is in everyone's bones, nothing's better than coming in out of the cold for a mug of vin chaud. Wouldn't you agree? Put on the carols, shuffle off their coats, have some candles or a fire to add points of warmth and light, and hand everyone a mug to warm their hands and hearts.

For each bottle of red wine:
1/2 cup of sugar
The zest of one lemon and one orange
2 cinnamon sticks
2 star anise
3 cloves
1 piece of ginger the size of the tip of your thumb, minced
½ teasp. Fresh grated nutmeg
Rum to taste (optional)

The zest is only the colored part from the skin, and it contains the essential citrus oils. Wash the orange and lemon thoroughly, and then use a sharp klnife to remove the zest, recuperating as little of the white rind as possible. Mix all of the ingeredients into a pot and bring slowly to a simmer. Do not boil, but simmer slowly for 10 to 15 minutes. Serve hot, filtering it through a mesh sieve. If it's really cold outside, you can add a thimble or two of rum to each mug just before serving.

December

Sissy and I sit together by lamplight in the wee hours and I sift through my address book. Is this the good address? What are the new children's names? Little paper packets of holiday cheer will be sent around the world to loved ones. With a steaming cup of coffee, sitting in my nightgown, I write out details one by one. The envelopes are covered with stamps in small denominations that I have finally gathered from various drawers in the secretary. I choose and turn the cards over in my hand, think about the people I love. We are preparing for new beginnings, a new year. Thinking of everyone like this bolsters the spirits.

While our window of sunlight is getting smaller and smaller, the city of Lyon has begun to ramp up the glow at night. Preparations for the light festival this weekend are all in full swing. Crews of light specialists and designers are busy on every square, preparing for the show that will light up the whole city with a series of over 90 installations starting this coming weekend. The whole centre-ville will be converted into a pedestrian park within which we will wander in and out of the light exhibits for the weekend. Friends who also live on the presqu'ile will open their homes and we'll enjoy mulled wine and snacks along the way.

It is time to break out the heavy cook pots and begin to look with new interest at roots. They have come to compliment the mix of early winter greens that will carry us through. In the kitchen, I'm working on the perfect quenelle recipe, and unravelling their stories.

Getting closer.

At the market, we can choose between cultivated pale endives or their colorful and fast growing wild chickory cousins. Spinach and lamb's lettuce peek though their windows of opportunity. Scallops and oysters brought in from the coast provide fresh and a vibrant additional flavor to the table. A predominant color now at the market is orange, with big thick wedges of local pumpkin and courge sold by the slice. Thin mild leeks are now sold in small bunches for soups and savory tartes. Herbs like basil and sage are scarce, while suddenly I'm taking a whole new interest in rosemary.

While we get farm raised poultry like duck and rabbit all year, right now is the moment for wild game. My big find in England last month was a colorful game cookbook, brimming with history and lore. I have been taking in recipes and methods, both English and French. Vendors selling wild game enjoy a brisk business, and I happily buy my share. The hunted wild game birds aren't as pretty as their smooth skinned farm fattened counterparts, but they have certainly lived more fully. They deserve special treatment. You can feel the vigor as you work with them, and taste their zest for life when they are served at the table. I give them a place of honor in terrines and stews, and plump out my kitchen notebook with other ways to prepare them. This is eating from the land. This is as close to the real thing as it gets.

The best of last Summer's bounty is now coming out in the cheeses. Wheels of summer mountain cheeses like Beaufort, Abondance, and Comte are just now rolling down from the Alps. A wedge is drenched with the sunshine we're missing now. Perfectly ripened summer Époisses from Burgundy is at its peak. The best of the harvest macerated local cheeses from the Mâcon like the Arome de Lyon, are just now coming plump from their barrels. The cheese plate glows with flavorful perfection at this time of year.

While we prepare for the winter holidays, making gift syrups and cookies for our French friends and family, planning for Lyon's ever spectacular Fete des Lumieres, and bringing out the decorations, December's light is a flame of promise for upcoming gatherings, fanned with Autumn's last golden glow.