Pêches au vin au romarin

A bowl of sliced peaches poached in rosé wine with rosemary makes a light and refreshing dessert for hot summer evenings. You can serve the peaches on their own, as I prefer, or take a page from my daughter’s book and serve them over a luxuriously rich burrata. The recipe is simple — the peaches are slipped out of their skins, sliced and poached in a syrup flavored with the rosé and rosemary. A dash of freshly ground black pepper adds bite.

Pêches au vin au romarin / Peaches poached in wine and rosemary

I dreamed up this recipe in late July, shortly before leaving for 10 days in England — more on that later — but, as sometimes happens, the photo didn’t turn out well. So I put it on hold until I could make it again. This time I also used a different kind of peach. Here in France, peaches come in several varieties — round (pêches rondes) or flat (pêches plates), with flesh that is either peach-colored or white. The flat ones look like somebody stepped on them — they’re as wide as the round ones but only about an inch (2.5 cm) high.

I used flat white peaches the first time I made this recipe, with less than spectacular results. The slices came out more like small wedges due to the shape of the fruit, and the color of the peaches in wine was less beautiful than the second time, when I used round peach-colored fruit. So I’d recommend the second version.

And now to England, where I visited friends in Surrey and London and had various misadventures along the way, including 10 straight days of rain. Oh well. No one goes to England for the weather but rather for its charm, its theater and the British sense of humor (humour). And sometimes also for the food. I had a couple of truly spectacular meals and have brought home two recipes that I hope to share with you in future posts.

The first was at a country inn set in beautiful grounds. It was too wet to eat outside, so we perused the menu concocted by the inn’s very creative chef in a cozy room next to the very lively bar. My lunch companion and I both chose as a main course a risotto of mint and peas with watercress, fresh basil and parmesan. It was to die for. When the rain stopped and we went outside for coffee we crossed paths with the chef, who was kind enough to share the recipe. I hope to try it out at home soon.

The second was at a small, Spanish-themed restaurant in Covent Garden where the pre-theater menu included a dish of black rice with small bits of octopus and baby squid, and dots of aïoli flavored with red pimento peppers. Absolutely fabulous. That time I did not talk to the chef but will phone up one of these days to ask, among other things, whether he/she used black rice (less likely) or turned white rice black with squid ink (more likely). Once I’ve tried it out, I’ll let you know.

I like picking up new recipes when on the road. It happens less often here in Paris as I go out less often, mainly because restaurants have become very pricy and the food is often less good than what you could make at home. Which is why, for the foreseeable, I’ll continue to regale you with stories about my adventures as an everyday French chef.

Happy cooking.

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Boulettes de poulet colombo

Colombo, a spice mix widely used in the French Caribbean, gives its name to this dish of spicy chicken balls in a coconut-curry sauce. The dish is generally served over rice to temper its heat. Start off the meal with ti punch, a cocktail of rum and lime, and if you’re feeling ambitious you could bring out a platter of acras de morue (spicy cod fritters). Serve an avocado-tomato-cilantro salad alongside, and you’ll feel those trade winds blowing.

Boulettes de poulet colombo / French Caribbean chicken balls

The words ‘French cuisine’ tend to evoke classic dishes such as coq au vin, cheese soufflé and boeuf bourgignon. Much less often do people associate French cooking with the cuisine of France’s farflung overseas states (départements), like the islands of Guadeloupe and Martinique in the West Indies. Their distinctive cuisine includes dishes like stuffed crab, fried plantain and le féroce, a fiery Creole take on guacamole made of avocado mashed with salt cod and cassava flour, as well as the cod fritters mentioned above.

Another classic dish of those islands is le colombo, which comes in many forms: with chicken, pork, fish or lobster, and goat is popular, too. Coconut milk, lime juice, green onion and hot red pepper (scotch bonnet or bird’s eye) are often involved. The essential ingredient, though, is the colombo spice mix, a milder version of curry powder that also includes Caribbean flavors like allspice. While colombo powder is widely available in France, it may be impossible to find elsewhere. But not to worry — you can mix it yourself.

As its name implies, the colombo spice mix has roots in Sri Lanka and its main city, Colombo. It evolved from spices that were brought to the Caribbean by Indian and Sri Lankan laborers who were sent to work on the islands by the British and the French during a less than glorious chapter of colonial times. From there it made its way back to France, where it is used in various adaptations of Caribbean and Indian cuisine.

Colombo with chicken balls is both easy and fun to make. You first chop skinless chicken breasts in a food processor with onion, garlic, cilantro, hot pepper, lime juice, salt and pepper. You then shape the mixture into balls and sauté them with the colombo spice mix, coconut milk, more lime juice and a little sugar. This process is even more fun if you have a glass of ti punch handy.

Happy cooking.

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Crème de la crème, Part IV

This post featuring favorite summer dishes wraps up my 10th anniversary series on the best of The Everyday French Chef. And I have to say that, given the bounty of the season, it was hard to choose one special dish to highlight. My first thought was ratatouille, the ever-so-French veggie dish from Provence, made even more famous by the Disney film starring a gourmet Parisian rat. But in the end the winner is (drumroll, please)…

Grand aïoli / Cod with vegetables and garlic mayonnaise

I chose this dish because it combines so many foods I love — cod, steamed veggies, eggs and, especially, the intensely flavorful aïoli sauce, in which an olive-oil mayonnaise is infused with garlic. The name of the game here is variation. In addition to the veggies pictured above — carrots, potatoes, asparagus, chickpeas and cherry tomatoes — typical ingredients include sea snails (bulots), green beans, finocchio, artichokes and cauliflower. As for the fish, salt cod is traditional — but a lot more work than fresh. So I’ve switched.

Like ratatouille, aïoli is from Provence, which is where I first enjoyed it. This was back in the 1970s at a seaside restaurant outside Marseille, what with the waves lapping at the shore and the cicadas chirping in the summer heat. It’s a great dish for summer because it is served at room temperature. Everything may be prepared in advance and assembled just before serving. All you need to complete the picture is a bottle of chilled dry white or rosé.

And now to my favorite summer dishes, followed by menu suggestions for summer meals.

Starters
Assiette de crudités / French vegetable plate
Caviar d’aubergine épicé / Spicy eggplant caviar
Piste de moules à la sétoise / Spicy cocktail mussels

Soups
Crème de poivrons rouges / Chilled red pepper soup
Soupe froide de tomates / Chilled tomato soup
Velouté de courgettes épicé / Spicy zucchini soup


Salads

Salade d’eté aux figues / Summer salad with fresh figs
Salade mesclun à l’huile de noix  / Salad of mixed greens from Provence
Salade niçoise / Salade niçoise

Eggs
Oeufs brouillés à la truffe / Scrambled eggs with truffles
Omelette basquaise / Basque omelet
Omelette soufflée / Omelet soufflé from Alsace

 

Savory tarts and sandwiches
Pan bagnat / Pan bagnat sandwich from Nice
Pastilla / Pastilla
Tarte à la tomate / French tomato tart

Fish and shellfish
Gambas au pastis / Shrimp sautéed in pastis
Petite friture / Fish fry, French style
Tartare de saumon / Salmon tartare


Poultry

Pintade rôti à la sauge / Roast guinea hen with fresh sage
Poulet grillé en brochette / Grilled chicken brochettes
Rôti de canard au romarin / Rolled roast of duck with rosemary

Meat dishes
Boulettes d’agneau aux herbes / Lamb meatballs with herbs
Paupiettes de veau / Stuffed veal scallops
Petits farcis / Stuffed vegetables from Provence


Vegetables

Beignets de courgettes / Zucchini fritters
Gratin d’aubergines / Eggplant gratin
Ratatouille / Provençal vegetable stew

Pasta and grains
Fusilli aux courgettes / Fusilli with zucchini
Storzapretti / Corsican dumplings in tomato sauce
Torsades au pistou / Summer pasta with French basil sauce


Desserts

Clafoutis aux cerises / Cherry clafoutis
Fruits d’été au cassis / Summer fruit cup with cassis
Ricotta à la lavande et aux mirabelles / Ricotta with lavender and plums

As an everyday French chef, how would I combine these dishes? Here are some examples.

For an everyday lunch, I might make a pan bagnat sandwich or salade niçoise. Vegetarians might enjoy a tomato tart and a mesclun salad of mixed greens. For vegans, eggplant caviar and zucchini soup. Everyone could follow up with seasonal fruit.

For an everyday dinner, everyone could start with a summer salad with fresh figs. Omnivores could follow with lamb meatballs, vegetarians with eggplant gratin and vegans with … ratatouille! For dessert, a cheese plate or seasonal fruit.

For a weekend dinner, salmon tartare and rolled roast of duck for omnivores, zucchini fritters and Corsican dumplings for vegetarians and chilled red pepper soup and pasta with French basil sauce for vegans. All could follow with a mesclun salad of mixed greens. For dessert, cherry clafoutis or ricotta with lavender and plums for omnivores and vegetarians, and summer fruit cup with cassis for vegans.

Happy summer, and happy cooking!

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Storzapretti

Storzapretti are Corsican dumplings made with spinach or chard and cheese, topped with tomato sauce and more cheese, and baked until bubbly and golden. According to legend, a priest once found the dumplings so delicious that he stuffed himself to the point of choking, hence their name, which translates roughly as ‘strangle the preacher’. One might think they’d be heavy, but after eating a plateful my guest pronounced them delightfully light.

Storzapretti / Corsican dumplings in tomato sauce

I stumbled upon this recipe during a recent trip to Corsica, known by the French as l’Île de Beauté (the Isle of Beauty). And it is incredibly beautiful. White sand beaches, pale turquoise waters, charming villages nestled in mountains rising just inland from the sea, parasol pines, flowers everywhere. Seafood is plentiful, the veggies are gorgeous and local specialties include brocciu, a fresh cheese similar to ricotta made of sheep or goats milk.

One of the island’s signature dishes is cannelloni au brocciu, in which the tubular cannelloni are stuffed with a mixture of brocciu and Swiss chard. Storzapretti are like cannelloni au brocciu minus the cannelloni. There is a bit of potato, making them somewhat akin to gnocchi, but they are far lighter and fluffier. As brocciu can be hard to find outside Corsica, and even in Corsica has a season, ricotta may be used instead.

Upon returning from Corsica I did a little research and discovered that the dumplings have roots in the Trentino region of Italy (and, as my Italian friends like to point out, Corsica was ruled by the Italians long before it became part of France). I also discovered that, within Corsica, the dish is a regional specialty, the region being the north of the island and in particular the area around the city of Bastia. When I asked a Corsican friend about the dish, she’d never heard of it — her family’s place is further south.

The name itself is problematic. According to Laure Verdeau, whose grandmother was from Bastia and who wrote about storzapretti recently for M, the magazine of Le Monde, the name translates from Corsican into French as étouffe-prêtre, or ‘choke the priest’. Other sources translate the name as tordre le moine (‘twist the monk’) or presser le moine (‘squeeze the monk’). But if etymology can be a guide, then the Italian version, strangolapreti, resolves the argument. It very clearly means ‘priest stranglers’.

The Italian dish differs from the Corsican version, however. My favorite Italian recipe site describes strangolapreti as ‘a truly ancient dish of truly special gnocchi made with stale bread and spinach’. No potato and no fresh cheese. The herbs are also different. The Corsican dumplings are flavored with mint and parsley, the Italian with fresh sage. And the Italian dumplings are served with melted butter — no tomato sauce involved.

This being said, the cooking of the dumplings is similar. You make a batter, form oval shapes, dust them with flour and drop them into boiling water until they fluff up and rise to the surface. This is the fun part of the recipe, which is admittedly a bit more of a production than most of the recipes on this site. But you can do it in stages, for example by making the tomato sauce the day before embarking on the dumplings themselves.

The storzapretti may be served either as a vegetarian main course or starter, or as a side dish with grilled or roasted meat, fish or poultry. You could begin with, say, melon and prosciutto and follow up with fresh summer fruit or a fruity dessert. Either a chilled rosé or a dry red would marry well. You might just feel like you’re on a beautiful island…

Happy cooking.

Posted in 9. Pasta, Rice, Grains | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Saucisses-fenouil-pommes de terre

Italian-style sausages marry beautifully with finocchio, aka fennel, in this one-dish meal for all seasons. It’s a crowd pleaser that also includes potatoes, and you can round out the dish with a seasonal veggie — e.g. peas in springtime, butternut in the fall. Here in France I used the readily available saucisses de Toulouse, which like Italian sausages are about 1 inch (2.5 cm) in diameter. But it could be argued that the Italian variety is better.

Saucisses-fenouil-pommes de terre / Sausages with finocchio and potato

The difference is that, in general, saucisses de Toulouse contain little seasoning, if any, other than salt and pepper, while Italian sausages are often seasoned with fennel seeds and sometimes include hot pepper and/or herbs, such as basil, as well. As Italian sausages are not that easy to find in Paris, while saucisses de Toulouse can be found in any supermarket, I chose the latter and compensated by adding fennel seeds, garlic and a crushed cayenne pepper to the mixture while sautéing the sausage and finocchio.

But, you may well ask, why are the French sausages called saucisses de Toulouse if they can be found in any supermarket across the country? Well, mes amis, this type of sausage is indeed said to originated in the venerable southwest city of Toulouse — also known as ‘the rosy city’ due to the color of its buildings. People from other regions tried it, liked it and began making it in their own neck of the woods. This, of course, incensed the fine people of Toulouse, who have since added a Red Label for ‘veritable saucisses de Toulouse‘ that are made according to traditional methods, with few additives.

What I like about this dish is its versatility. If it’s summer, you could add tomatoes — and even skip the potatoes if you like. In winter you could substitute sweet potatoes for regular potatoes, or use both. Preparation is very simple, with a little chopping and sautéing after which the dish simmers for about 20 minutes in water or, better, homemade chicken broth to allow the potatoes to cook and the flavors to blend. Start or finish with a green salad, accompany with a bottle of sturdy red and you’ll be all set.

Happy cooking.

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Pan bagnat

If you’ve ever been to Nice, you will have encountered the pan bagnat, that city’s trademark sandwich: a large roll stuffed with tuna, tomatoes, black olives, hard-boiled egg, anchovies, green pepper, green onion, radishes and basil. It’s like a salade niçoise in a bun. The city is so proud of the sandwich that citizens have formed an association to defend and promote it, with a web page entitled, no less, The Official Site of the Free State of Pan Bagnat.

Pan bagnat / Pan bagnat sandwich from Nice

On that site they’ve posted what they call the official recipe, which would be just like mine except that it has no green pepper and notes that baby broad beans and/or little artichokes may be added in season. But beware. The site adds a warning: ‘In no case may any other ingredient be added to the authentic Pan Bagnat of Nice under penalty of creating a vulgar vegetable sandwich.’ A vulgar veggie sandwich? Really? How do you say oy vey in French?

So let’s talk about authenticity. According to food historians, the original pan bagnat contained no tuna, which at the time — the 19th century — was considered a food for the rich. The pan bagnat was a poor man’s meal, often made with stale bread (‘pan’ in Provençal) that was bathed (‘bagnat’) with a little water to soften it. These days, the rolls ‘bathe’ in drizzled olive oil and juice from the tomatoes. And while the so-called official recipe may not include green pepper, it is hard to find another recipe without it.

I first encountered the pan bagnat when, as a 19-year-old student, I found myself digging for pre-Neanderthal man in a cave outside Nice for the last three weeks of a summer study program. In the evening after work, the other student diggers and I would walk into town along the corniche, the beautiful coastal road overlooking the Mediterranean. Often as not, we’d pick up a pan bagnat for supper. The sandwich is big enough to be a meal in itself.

Now that spring is finally turning sunny and warm in Paris, it felt like the right time to try to make a pan bagnat at home. Problem No. 1: Where to find the bread? Pan bagnat rolls measure 6-8 inches (15-20 cm) in diameter, i.e. as big as or bigger than a jumbo hamburger bun. They’re crusty outside, tender inside, with an olive oil tang. I had never seen one at a Paris bakery, but a quick online search revealed that at least one Paris baker makes them, and by luck the shop — Tout Autour du Pain — is a short walk from my place.

Happily I phoned ahead, as the pan bagnat rolls had to be made to order. The next day I collected four beautiful crusty rolls. The rest was easy. I made a sauce of olive oil, garlic and basil, boiled an egg, sliced the veggies, sliced the roll and layered on the ingredients, drizzing with olive oil from time to time. In a very short while the venerable sandwich was ready.

What to do if there is no such baker in your vicinity? Improvise! You can make your pan bagnat on a Kaiser roll, a pita, a chunk of a crusty French loaf. If you don’t broadcast your deviation from authenticity, the defense committee will never hear about it…

For the record, concerning sandwiches in a bun, the venerable pan bagnat predates the venerable hamburger by at least a century, although the origin of neither is totally clear. When I told an Italian friend I’d be posting the pan bagnat recipe on my French cooking site, she bristled: ‘But that’s an Italian sandwich!’ Since Nice used to be part of Italy, she may have a point. But who cares? The real point is that the sandwich is a treat.

Part of the magic of the pan bagnat is that its taste changes according to the weather. It’s best outdoors on a hot sunny day — at the beach, on a boat, at a picnic. Bring along a bottle of chilled rosé and plenty of napkins to catch the olive oil. The other part of the magic is that, wherever you are when you bite in, the Mediterranean will not be far away.

Happy cooking.

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Rouleaux de printemps

What better time than spring to make fresh spring rolls? In this Vietnamese-inspired recipe, a very thin rice-flour crepe is rolled up around lettuce, mint and the zesty filling of your choice: shrimp, chicken or mango, mixed with Asian flavorings, peanuts and cilantro. The rolls — not to be confused with fried spring rolls (called nems in France) — are served with a tangy sauce. They’re light, fun to make and a great way to exercise your creativity.

Rouleaux de printemps / Fresh spring rolls

These spring rolls differ from the original in that rouleaux de printemps, as served in both Vietnam and France, are mainly filled with rice vermicelli, bean sprouts and/or grated carrots, with a just tiny bit of chicken or pork tucked inside. By expermenting at home, I’ve found that leaving out the noodles and sprouts delivers a more intense burst of flavor.

The fillings presented here are my own creation. In the first version, chopped shrimp are marinated in lime juice, fish sauce (nuoc mam), sugar and hot sauce. In the second, shredded chicken is marinated in soy sauce, hoisin or oyster sauce, sesame oil and hot sauce. In the third, diced mango is mixed with lime juice, hot sauce and spring onion (scallions). Crushed peanuts and chopped cilantro are added just before rolling.

When you’re ready to roll, the rice-flour wrapper is dampened in hot water, then placed on a board. Lettuce and mint are placed on the bottom third and topped with a couple spoonfuls of filling. Shrimp halves are then placed on the middle of the wrapper. You fold in the sides and wrap up tightly, bottom to top. If making the vegetarian/vegan mango version, you can skip the shrimp and instead use cilantro leaves for decoration.

The rolling stage is a bit delicate — it may take you a few tries to get proficient. But once you get the hang of it, you can fill the rolls with anything you like. Spring rolls with leftover Peking duck are fantastic. You could fry up ground pork or ground beef with ginger and garlic, add some fresh cilanto and voilà. Or use your imagination. Sea scallops might be delicious. Quail? Smoked salmon? Why not? And if you like noodles, include them in.

As for the sauce, you can buy it ready-made at Asian groceries or make it yourself. According to my favorite Vietnamese cooking blog, Miss Tam Kitchenette, two different sauces are served with spring rolls in Vietnam. In the south of the country the rolls are accompanied by hoisin sauce, and in the north by a sauce made of nuoc mam, rice vinegar, lime juice, sugar, garlic, hot water and bird’s eye pepper. This is the kind served in France.

Miss Tam says that spring rolls are often served in southern Vietnam during the Tet festival, which celebrates the arrival of spring. In France they are served year round, generally as a starter, although they could also be part of a buffet spread. Dishes that would marry well include Thai duck salad, Vietnamese noodle salad, cockles in satay sauce, tuna tartare on black rice, Vietnamese beef-noodle soup (soupe pho) or chicken with lemongrass. And don’t forget a chilled bottle of dry rosé!

Happy cooking.

Posted in 1. Starters | 2 Comments

Cresson-anchois-croûtons

Is there such a thing as a new recipe? This zesty salad of watercress topped with anchovy fillets and croutons may fit the bill. I created it one day when I’d been to the market and had a bunch of fresh watercress in the fridge. How was I inspired to add the anchovies and croutons, along with a drizzle of olive oil and a few drops of lemon juice? Don’t know, but when I surfed the web afterwards in search of a similar salad, I found none.

Cresson-anchois-croûtons / Watercress with anchovies and croutons

Recipes have been developed and shared since early humans began using fire for cooking, hundreds of thousands of years ago, or possibly well before — think mixed berries or oysters on the half shell. If you look into ancient history, opinions vary widely on what may have been the first food shared in common by our ancestors. Bread is mentioned, but its invention came long after anatomically modern humans began farming. Honey is a candidate for the first shared food, but it would have been gathered, not cooked.

Elizabeth Marshall Thomas, in her fascinating book The Old Way, describes the virtues of the ostrich egg: ‘This useful item is first a meal and then a water bottle’. It would have taken many millennia for people to go from eating a raw ostrich egg to making an omelet, but when somebody finally was inspired to scramble the egg and cook it, or more likely did so by accident, this discovery would have been communicated and passed along.

Almost every dish we prepare these days is derivative in one way or another. When I write about French onion soup, for example, I’m drawing on recipes developed over the centuries that I have adapted by trial and error to make the dish my own. Ditto beef bourguinon or cheese soufflé. Every now and then a new recipe comes along, for instance Caesar salad, which was invented in 1924 by an Italian-American chef at his restaurant in Tijuana and is now popular on both sides of the Atlantic.

But it is rare to find a truly original recipe. Which is why I was all the more delighted to (apparently) invent the watercress-anchovy-crouton combination. It makes a lovely lunch, accompanied by crusty bread and a full-bodied red. You could follow up with cheese and a light dessert — mixed berries, for example — to make a balanced meal perfect for spring.

Happy cooking.

Posted in 3. Salads | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Macédoine de légumes

A swirl of lightened mayo over gently steamed carrots, asparagus, peas, spring onions and turnips creates a thoroughly modern version of a very traditional French dish — macédoine. In this update, the veggies may be served either chopped or whole, with homemade mayonnaise on top, on the side or as a sauce. Add some fresh herbs for garnish, and you have a flavor-packed starter, salad or side dish that highlights the beauty of spring.

Macédoine de légumes / Spring vegetables with mayonnaise

It’s been decades since I’ve seen macédoine on a Paris restaurant menu, probably because it was seriously in need of revision. Although it was once seen as a supremely elegant dish, by the time I arrived in France nearly 50 years ago it had taken a turn towards the stodgy. Macédoine then consisted of overcooked diced veggies slathered in thick mayonnaise, often served stuffed in a tomato or rolled in a slice of ham. But tastes have evolved…

So I have taken liberties with the traditional recipe, which typically combined diced carrots, green beans, turnips, peas and flageolets, or small, pale green, kidney-shaped beans that are popular in France but may be hard to find elsewhere. This version dispenses with the beans in favor of asparagus and spring onions, which are bountiful in farmers markets here at the moment.

It may be argued that serving the veggies whole, as shown just above, is too much of a stretch, given the origins of the dish. Amusingly, macédoine takes its name from the multiethnic Balkan region of Macedonia. The multicolored chopped vegetables were seen as resembling ethnographic maps of Macedonia in previous centuries, such as the one at left.

Just as amusingly, macédoine is also known as salade russe (Russian salad) in France, Italy, Serbia and Bulgaria, while it is known as salade française (French salad) in the Balkans and salade orientale (Middle Eastern salad) in Romania and Moldova. Meanwhile salade russe is known in Russia and elsewhere as salat Olivier, after Lucien Olivier, the Franco-Belgian chef who created it in Moscow in the mid-18oos. His creation was derived from a similar dish, salat stolichny, or ‘capital city salad’, with sour cream instead of mayo. The Russian salads generally include potatoes, and sometimes chicken or seafood.

Getting back to French traditions, it should be noted that there is also a fruit version of macédoine, with chopped bits of apples, cherries, pineapple, strawberries, kiwi, whatever, typically served in a sugar syrup. It is generally quite bland, which is most likely why it, too, has disappeared from bistro menus.

As for the veggie version, macédoine-style chopped vegetables may also be served warm with butter or cold in aspic, according to the Larousse Gastronomique. But personally I think the mayo version is by far the tastiest. If you’d like to go traditional, you can served your modernized macédoine bathed in homemade mayonnaise lightened with lemon juice, as shown at right. Or you can decompose and recompose as you prefer.

Happy cooking.

Posted in 8. Vegetables | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

Crème de la crème, Part III

Spring has sprung with a vengeance in Paris — chestnuts in blossom, demonstrators in the streets — meaning it’s time once again for Crème de la crème, with ‘best of’ seasonal recipes from the first ten years of The Everyday French Chef. This time I’d like to highlight oeufs durs mayonnaise, a classic bistro dish. And, you may well ask, what’s so special about hard-boiled eggs? Well, homemade mayo boosts this simple dish into the stratosphere.

Oeufs durs mayonnaise / Hard-boiled eggs with French mayonnaise

Homemade mayonnaise is worlds apart from the kind of mayo you get out of a jar. And despite its reputation, it’s very easy to make — preparation takes less than five minutes. You simply mix egg yolks with Dijon mustard, lemon juice and salt, then add oil little by little to create one of France’s most versatile and elegant sauces. (For a demonstration, check out this video). Homemade mayo also marries perfectly with the eggs. And by the way, there’s a trick to ensuring that the yolks will be a beautiful bright orange-yellow, and not have the grayish hue of over-boiled eggs. It’s all in the timing (see recipe for details).

The recipe for oeufs durs mayonnaise is one of this site’s most popular, having been viewed more than 13,000 times since it was posted back in November 2012. Its simplicity is what makes this dish so appealing. At Paris bistros and brasseries, you’ll find oeufs durs mayonnaise served as a starter, either on its own or as part of a crudités vegetable plate. At home, it can be served as a first course or part of a lunch buffet, perhaps with shrimp with homemade mayo, anchovy-garlic dip, tapenade olive dip, herbal tomato salad and/or eggplant caviar. If you’re looking for something special to serve at Easter, look no further…

And now to my spring favorites. I’ve listed three dishes from each of the site’s categories — mix and match as you like. Many feature foods that come into season in spring: artichokes, asparagus, dandelion leaves, peas, raspberries, rhubarb, sorrel, strawberries. Beneath the list you’ll find menu suggestions for everyday and special meals for spring.

Starters
Artichauts vinaigrette / Artichokes with mustard vinaigrette
Asperges blanches / White asparagus
Oeufs mimosa / Eggs ‘Mimosa’

Soups
Soupe à l’oseille / Fresh sorrel soup
Soupe aux asperges / Asparagus soup
Soupe de petits pois à la menthe / Fresh pea soup with mint

 

Salads
Petits pois et haricots verts en salade / Early summer salad with fresh peas and green beans
Salade de cresson / Watercress salad
Salade de pissenlits aux lardons / Dandelion salad with bacon

Eggs
Omelette aux asperges et parmesan / Asparagus-parmesan omelet
Omelette aux petits pois / Spring omelet with fresh peas
Petits soufflés au chèvre / Goat cheese soufflés with dill


Savory tarts

Quiche au saumon fumé / Smoked salmon quiche
Quiche aux asperges et pleurotes / Asparagus quiche with oyster mushrooms
Tourte épinards-féta / Mediterranean spinach-feta pie

Fish
Coques au satay / Cockles in satay sauce
Saumon à l’oseille / Thick-cut salmon with sorrel sauce
Tartare de thon au riz noir / Tuna tartare on black rice



Poultry

Coquelet à la géorgienne / Chicken with walnut sauce
Pigeon rôti / Roast pigeon
Poulet au miel et au thym / Chicken with honey and thyme

Meat
Assiette anglaise / Cold roast meat platter, French style
Navarin d’agneau printanier / Lamb with spring vegetables
Tagine de veau aux petits pois et citron / Veal tagine with fresh peas and lemon


Veggies

Artichauts poivrade grilles / Pan-seared baby artichokes
Jardinière de légumes printaniers / Spring vegetable medley
Petits pois à la française / Fresh peas with bacon and basil

Pasta and grains
Orecchiette aux petits pois et jambon de pays / Pasta with peas and country ham
Risotto aux épinards / Spinach risotto
Salade aux grains, sauce sésame / Mixed-grain salad with sesame sauce

Desserts
Soufflés aux framboises / Raspberry soufflés
Soupe de rhubarbe aux fraises / Rhubarb soup with strawberries and mint
Tarte aux fraises / Strawberry tart

As an everyday French chef, how would I combine these dishes? Here are some examples:

For an everyday lunch, omnivores might enjoy a dandelion salad with bacon followed by pasta with peas and country ham. For vegetarians, fresh sorrel soup followed by a spring omelet with fresh peas. For vegans, white asparagus followed by a salad with fresh peas and green beans. And maybe some seasonal fruit.

For an everyday dinner, white asparagus with a lemony cream sauce followed by salmon with sorrel sauce and a watercress salad. For vegetarians, pan-seared baby artichokes followed by spinach risotto. For vegans, artichokes with mustard vinaigrette followed by a mixed-grain salad with sesame sauce. If you’d like to add a dessert to any of these menus, go for fresh strawberries and rasperries, with or without cream.

For a weekend dinner, individual goat cheese soufflés, lamb ‘navarin’ with spring vegetables, a watercress salad and strawberry tart. For vegetarians, eggs ‘Mimosa’ to start, then white asparagus with hollandaise, Mediterranean spinach-feta pie and raspberry soufflé. For vegans, fresh pea soup with mint, pan-seared baby artichokes, watercress salad and rhubarb soup with strawberries and mint.

I’ll be back in two weeks with a new dish for spring. Part IV of Crème de la crème, in June, will conclude this special series of ‘best of’ recipes in celebration of the 10th anniversary of The Everyday French Chef.

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