The endive is a humble vegetable here in France, where they most certainly do not call it Belgian. Grown undergrown, its white leaves crisp and slightly bitter, the endive comes into its own in the winter months. It may be braised, served au gratin with ham (a Burgundy specialty), or turned into a salad with a zingy sauce and a decidedly adult flavor. For example, this salad of endive with a roquefort dressing and walnuts crumbled on top.
Salade d’endives au roquefort / Salad of Belgian endive with roquefort
The endive is a versatile vegatalbe, and there are many variations on this salad. You can omit the cream and use olive oil instead. In which case you may choose to substitute balsamic vinegar for the lemon juice, and maybe even decide to add some julienne strips of cured country ham. Or substitute cubes of gruyère cheese for the roquefort. Use your imagination — that’s the fun of cooking — but please don’t omit the walnuts!
Why should the word kir be associated in my mind with the word decadence? The cocktail originally known as a blanc-cassis has nothing particularly decadent about it. It’s the most natural of apéritifs, made of dry white wine — Burgundy is traditional — and crème de cassis, or black currant liqueur. Served throughout the Burgundy region long before it was named after the priest Félix Kir, a resistance hero and mayor of Dijon, this drink is heady enough to liven up any cocktail party, and even temporarily to keep one’s mind off an election taking place thousands of miles away. Oh, and by the way, I first tasted a kir back in the 1970s, with a Paris friend who was taking me to a party. On the way over, he taught me a new dance he said everyone would be dancing. It was called la décadanse.
