A light start to a meal of a warm summer’s evening is a fish terrine — in this case, a terrine of salmon, shrimp and sea scallops, with a sauce flavored with curry and dill. For years I have enjoyed the fish terrines on offer at Parisian food shops, where they beckon elegantly in multicolor slices. But I only recently began making them. And the good news is that it’s fun. It requires a French technique known as bain-marie.
Terrine de saumon / Salmon terrine
Bain-marie, which translates as ‘Mary’s bath’, involves setting a pan of boiling water on the stove or in the oven and placing whatever you happen to be cooking on top. On the stove, it’s the equivalent of a double boiler, while in baking it is used in the creation of various dishes, among them crème caramel. I’ve been using the technique for years, but not until sitting down to write up this recipe did I start to wonder how it got it’s unusual name — and in particular, who the heck was Mary?
As it turns out, she was an ancient sage and alchemist variously known as ‘Mary the Jewess’, ‘Mary the Prophetess’ and ‘Daughter of Plato’, and is (not totally reliably) said to have discovered hydrochloric acid and to have inspired Carl Jung. When and where she lived is unclear. She is variously said to have met up in Memphis, Egypt, with Democritus of Greece (he lived from around 460-370 BC) and to have learned the art of making gold from Aristotle (384-322 BC) at the court of Alexander the Great. In one poetic account, she is described as a Syrian princess.
Whoever Mary was, we who dabble in culinary alchemy owe her quite a lot. And, thanks to the French, her name has been preserved through the centuries. If the weather gets so hot, as it has in Paris recently, that you feel you might be in Syria or Egypt, put on your apron, whip up a fish terrine and think of Mary.
Happy cooking.
When the weather turns summery, what could be more refreshing than a Greek salad, French style? It’s been so hot here in Paris recently that I’ve made several. All you need is feta, tomatoes, a cucumber, a red onion, some black olives and a little parsley or mint. Unlike the Greek version, salade grecque is generally served in France without sweet peppers or oregano, and with rosé instead of retsina. Call it an Adriatic of the mind.
Strawberries with basil and balsamic vinegar, aka strawberry carpaccio, appeared relatively recently on Paris bistro menus. The combination makes a refreshing dessert on warm summer evenings — light, tangy and sophisticated. And the real magic is that it takes about five minutes to prepare. You can also vary the ingredients, adding a few raspberries or replacing the basil with mint. Don’t tell your guests about the balsamic — let them guess.
It is surprising, in our globalized world, that we can still travel only a short distance and find ourselves in a whole new foodosphere. I recently had the pleasure of visiting Naples. The first night, at a joint straight out of a Mastroianni-Loren movie, I was served pizza with sausage and friarielli, aka broccoli rabe, which is virtually unfindable in Paris. The last day, I encountered a simple but scrumptious dish of pasta, mussels and pecorino.
I first encountered this dish a couple of years ago at 
The mimosa tree, its fluffy yellow blossoms a harbinger of spring, has loaned its name not only to a Champagne cocktail but also to the French version of deviled eggs. The eggs are stuffed and topped with of tiny pieces of yolk meant to resemble mimosa flowers. The filling includes parsley or other herbs. It’s a great dish to serve at this time of year — cheery, light and bright. And by the way, it’s also a great way to recycle Easter eggs.
If you’d like to kick off festivities with 
Tomorrow is April Fool’s Day, an event marked in France by pranks known as poissons d’avril, or ‘April fish’. So this seemed an appropriate time to post a fish recipe, all the more so as spring has now sprung with a vengeance in Paris, with warm-weather dishes sprouting on bistro menus like precocious darling buds of May. Salmon tartare is one such dish — light and fresh, its flavor enhanced with avocado, fresh herbs and lime juice.
You may say po-TAY-to, I may say po-TAH-to, but the French say “apples of the earth” (pommes de terre), perhaps an indication of their esteem for the humble spud. And French potato salad, simple and earthy, has a taste all its own. Unlike American potato salad, it has no mayonnaise. Unlike the German version, it leaves out the bacon. No, the French bathe potatoes in a vinaigrette while still warm, add chopped shallots and herbs — et voilà.
The wonderful French phrase l’heure de l’apéro means you’re done working and it’s time to kick off your shoes and settle in to a drink as a prelude to a pleasant evening. It’s like cocktail hour, but with a nuance of difference. The drinks are generally not cocktails but variations on wine, and on festive occasions — or even ordinary occasions — amuse-bouches are served with the drinks. For example, lacy chips baked from grated parmesan.
When is a lamb chop not a lamb chop? It may seem a minor distinction, but here in France a carré d’agneau (rack of lamb) is considered a different dish altogether than côtelettes d’agneau (lamb chops), the difference being that the meat is tender on all sides when the rack is sliced. The elegance makes it a dish for special occasions. Served with a sophisticated purée, for example of parsnips and cumin, it will add a touch of class to your table.
A little lore was passed along to me by Robin from the butcher counter at 
