A couple weeks ago, on a bright October day, I made this dish for a friend who was coming to dinner. I’d had pumpkin risotto at lunch that week at Merci, a café with creative cuisine across the street from me, and found it so delightful I wanted to try my hand at it. Now, in this dreary season, it’s good to have dishes like this to turn to for solace. Pumpkin risotto is comfort food at its best, and escaping into the kitchen is, for me, a kind of zen.
Risotto au potiron et au thym / Pumpkin risotto with thyme
As if things weren’t bad enough, this morning we learn of the passing of Leonard Cohen, a poet who touched so many of our lives with grace. But this is supposed to be a cooking column, so I’ll stick to that for the moment. Two things:
First, this week I was given a cookbook I’d like to tell you about. It’s called Simplissime: Le Livre de cuisine le + facile du monde (translation: Ultrasimple: The World’s Easiest Cookbook). Written by J.-F. Mallet, apparently famous in France although I’d never heard of him, it features easy recipes similar to those on this site — in fact, there is considerable overlap (eggplant gratin, saffron risotto, spaghetti with small clams, etc.). What is wonderful is indeed the simplicity. Recipes are laid out over two pages, with photos of the ingredients and very brief instructions on the left-hand side, and a photo of the finished product on the right-hand side. If you’re looking for holiday gift ideas — or simply want to get something nice for yourself — this is a winner (providing you can read French).
Second, I learned this week that The Everyday French Chef has been included on France Magazine’s new list of the best French food blogs. To be in a group that also includes some of my favorite food sites — Chocolate and Zucchini, David Lebovitz, Manger, Patricia Wells — is truly an honor, for which I am very grateful.
Now then. Returning to Leonard Cohen, I’d like to leave you with a quote from one of his best-known songs — poetry of humility and wisdom. As he says, in what could be an epitaph for himself, ‘a blaze of light in every word.’
I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah.
Happy cooking.
This fantastic recipe comes to me from
Every French school child learns that, back in around 1600, ‘good King Henri IV’ wanted to put a chicken in every pot. How much truth there is in this legend is still being debated by historians. What is incontestable, though, is that the dish called poule au pot to this day carries royal connotations. And yet, it is so simple. A chicken (or a hen) is boiled with vegetables to make a two-dish supper: first the soup, then the chicken and veggies.
Soufflés are often regarded as too difficult to attempt at home. I found this to be true when, as a young woman inspired by Julia Child, I set out to make one. Julia’s recipe for cheese soufflé in Mastering the Art of French Cooking stretches across nine pages, with long paragraphs on subjects like how to beat egg whites by hand. Not to be intimidated, I tried — with dubious results. Only after moving to Paris did I discover there is an easier way.
We’ve been having a September heat wave. Maybe this explains why so many Paris bistros are featuring Italian dishes at the moment. Most popular seems to be the assiette italienne, typically melon, parma ham, tomatoes, mozzarella and basil. But pasta is omnipresent too. At the ultra-trendy café Merci the other day, the special was a salad of pasta in pesto. In tune with this spirit, I decided to post one of my favorite pasta recipes.
We just returned from a week at the shore in southwest France, where the beaches are vast, the waves are impressive and the food is fantastic. One of the specialties I most love in that corner of the world is squid grilled with garlic and parsley. The squid are cooked using a method the French call aller-retour, or back and forth, a phrase most commonly seen on round-trip tickets. In culinary usage, the phrase means that the food is placed on an extremely hot grill and cooked very quickly on one side (aller) and then the other (retour).
When the French say melon, they are generally referring to one particular type of melon. It is small and round, about 4-6 inches (10-15 cm) in diameter, with dark green stripes over a pale exterior and an intoxicatingly sweet orange interior. It is similar to cantaloupe, but more fragrant. The most highly reputed come from Cavaillon, in Provence, while the most widely sold are called Charentais. All pair delightfully with duck.
It is a mystery why the melons over here are so much sweeter than those found in the States. Perhaps because the sun in southern France is more intense, or maybe there’s another reason. If you have an idea, please let us know.
When summer finally rolls around over here, our kitchen goes Mediterranean. The sultry breezes make it easy to forget that Paris is in northern France, far from the turquoise waters. Salads from Provence, Spain, Greece, Morocco and Lebanon appear, eggplant and tomatoes in many guises come to the table. And spicy meat dishes can play a starring role, for example meatballs of ground lamb topped with a yogurt sauce and fresh herbs.
Dear readers of The Everyday French Chef: Normally I only post on Fridays, but today I am giving you a bonus recipe to compensate those of you who may have tried to access my site and instead found a blank page. Yes, you guessed right. My site was hacked again, and was down for about 24 hours. The problem is partially resolved now, allowing me to post this recipe for a delightfully light starter for a summer meal, or anytime of year.
A whole creamy burrata beside a nest of tender greens strewn with roasted hazelnuts and surrounded by a drizzle of raspberry sauce — I wish I had dreamt up this combination myself. But in fact I was served it at a neighborhood bistro, and have been dreaming about it ever since. The combination creates an explosion of flavors that is, frankly, kind of addictive, with the very lightly sweetened raspberry sauce as an exclamation point.

