Forget maple syrup, bring on the powdered sugar. French toast, French style, is mainly served as a dessert or an afternoon snack. Known as pain perdu (‘lost bread’), it was a poor man’s dish until, according to lore, it was discovered by the nobility in the 16th century, becoming a favorite of King Henri IV. From the king’s table, French toast made its way abroad, and the rest is history.
Pain perdu / French toast, French style
Unlike the American variety, the French version of French toast is dipped into an egg-milk mixture that has been sweetened and flavored with vanilla, or possibly cinnamon. It can be made with any type of bread, from baguette to the currently trendier pain brioché, which is similar to egg bread or challah. (Brioche also had it’s moment in history, when Marie-Antoinette allegedly said, ‘Let them eat cake’ — Qu’ils mangent de la brioche.)
French toast had a moment in my family’s history during our first trip to Paris back in 1967. At our first café lunch, my perenially amusing 14-year-old brother got that look in his eye. We were in France? He wanted French toast. With two years of high school French, I was the only French speaker in the family. ‘Le French toast?’ I tried. The waitress stared at me blankly. I listed the ingredients – bread, milk and egg. ‘Ah, du pain perdu!’
Lost bread? That seemed illogical even then. The idea of using stale bread to create a confection surely meant that the bread was saved, not lost… For the record, my brother continued his quest to unravel the mysteries of French cuisine by ordering French fries (frites) and French dressing (an equivalent doesn’t exist). Meanwhile, I was trying French onion soup (gratinée) and loving every minute of it.
These days French toast is rarely seen on bistro menus. It is most commonly served in French homes for the afternoon goûter (snack), a national institution for French schoolchildren to tide them over until French dinnertime, around 8 p.m. But this can also be a sophisticated dish. Serve it at your next brunch, with fruit and/or bacon, and prepare for applause.
Happy cooking.
French garlic soup from Provence is called aïgo boulido, which translates amusingly as ‘boiled water’. Well, you can believe me — it’s a lot tastier than hot water. The garlic is boiled until soft, allowed to steep with fresh sage, thyme and a bay leaf, puréed with an egg yolk and olive oil, and served over toast topped with freshly grated cheese. Pale yellow, creamy and deeply flavorful, it’s a delight to the palate and the eye.
Springtime in Paris means rhubarb and strawberries, and they combine delightfully in this light, bright dessert. The mousse can be whipped up — literally — in just a few minutes. The rhubarb is softened with sugar, the strawberries are puréed, the mix is lightened with a beaten egg white and whipped cream is folded in at the end. Topped with strawberry pieces and perhaps a sprig of basil or mint, the mousse makes a lovely end to a meal.
Snow peas, fresh peas, asparagus and chives star in this bright green medley of spring vegetables bathed in a French-Asian fusion sauce. With the sun making timid appearances and the chestnuts finally in blossom, it’s beginning to feel like spring in Paris. I’d been planning to make this dish for a long time, and at last it was the right season. So I headed to the market, where spring veggies were out in abundance — except for snow peas…
Succulent spicy meatballs served in broth with cream and topped with fresh dill — now that’s what I call comfort food with a capital C, except that this dish is light, not heavy. I first made it on a winter’s evening and have since repeated it many times as it proved very popular here at home. What inspired this creation? I may have had Swedish meatballs on my mind, but I added cumin, ground coriander, cayenne and cilantro to spice things up a bit…
This open-face pita sandwich with shrimp in curried mayo set on a bed of bacon and arugula and topped with fresh dill is an example of why I have often thought this site should be renamed ‘Meg Has Lunch’. Like many dishes proposed by The Everyday French Chef, it was invented one day when I went into the kitchen at lunchtime wondering what to make, checked the fridge to see what we had on hand and came up with a felicitous combination.
With Easter just around the corner, here are some seasonal recipes you may wish to try for a holiday meal: 
Longing for a hint of spring as the Paris winter drags on and on, I made a cheery pot of risotto with peas and fresh mint the other day. The inspiration for this dish was not my own. I first had it last summer at a beautiful English country pub, 
Making parmesan chicken, a family favorite, is simplicity itself. There are only two ingredients — the parmesan and the chicken (plus a little olive oil for pan-frying). Unlike other similar dishes where chicken is coated before frying, this lighter version involves no flour, no breadcrumbs, no egg. The grated parmesan is simply patted onto the chicken breasts, which are then lightly fried until golden, et voilà — dinner is served.
This salad of curly endive with bacon is a French bistro classic and it’s one of my favorites. I often serve it to friends at dinner parties, usually followed by another bistro dish, for example 
Let’s start with the lettuce. Salade frisée is displayed proudly in French farmers markets, its yellow heart framed by a dark green crown. This type of salad is huge. It can measure up to two feet (60 cm) in diameter when spread open. When I took the photo at right, it virtually covered the picnic table on my veranda. So unless you are cooking for an army, you won’t need all of it for your salad. What to do with the rest? Either a repeat performance or you can use it to make Italian lettuce soup, a recipe I hope to post one day soon.
Now the bacon. In France lardons, or bacon sticks, are sold precut in supermarkets. But for best results with this salad, it’s preferable to start with a thick strip of bacon — about 1/3 inch (1 cm) — and cut the lardons yourself. The flavor and texture are better, and your guests will appreciate it. If that’s not possible where you live, buy thick-cut bacon strips and chop them. My advice: be generous with the bacon. It’s the star of the show.
Roasted salmon on a bed of spicy lentils is a dish that delivers the comfort we crave in winter without too much heft. Here, the dish is paired with spinach for a combination that’s as pleasing to the eye as to the palette. I made this dish last week during a cold snap in Paris — below-freezing temperatures and snow that didn’t melt for days, a rare event over here. After fireside suppers featuring heavier winter dishes, the salmon made a welcome change.
As the cold is bound to return, both here and elsewhere, I thought I’d share some of the dishes I’ve been making to cheer this frigid season, in hopes of inspiring you. Over the last month or so I’ve served: 
After all that entertaining, I slowed down this month, mainly cooking for my daugher and myself, as well as a couple of guests. So far I’ve served 
