Ingredients & Fine Foods

Gibassier from Lourmarin

Gibassier de Lourmarin

Le Gibassier is a specialty from Lourmarin, the beautiful village in Provence where I spent Easter in my aunt and uncle’s house. It is a large blond cookie of about a foot in length made with olive oil and shaped like an oval leaf.

It is possibly named after Le Gibas, a nearby summit of the Luberon mountain range, but the confusing thing is that gibassier is also a type of sweet focaccia-like bread baked with olive oil and flavored with orange flower water. This also goes by the name of fougasse or pompe à huile (literally “oil pump”!) and is one of the traditional thirteen Christmas desserts. I have been able to locate recipes for the bread-like Gibassier, but not the cookie: this may warrant a little offline research, as is often the case when you get to such specific and local micro-facts.

What I can tell you though, is how delightfully tasty this biscuit (in the French sense of the term) is. The large amount of olive oil that is obviously involved in the recipe (the paper bag was smooth and shiny within the hour) gives it a very sophisticated flavor and a unique moistness, yet it does not taste greasy at all and is very subtly sweet. The surface shows an unusual scale-like texture and this, combined with the multiple slits that were cut in the dough prior to baking, ensures interesting sensations in every bite and for each of the happy friends you will share it with. Because yes, as you may have guessed (didn’t we recently talk about portion-control?) this is most definitely a break-off-a-chunk-and-share cookie — yet another thing I like about it.

I bought it from Riquier, my aunt and uncle’s favorite boulangerie, where they bought the loaves of bread to feed the twenty-plus family members that they entertained with such natural talent over the week-end, and where I also purchased pignolats, these fabulous crescent-shaped pinenut cookies.

Continue reading »

Kohlrabi

Le Chou-Rave

Le chou-rave — in English kohlrabi or cabbage turnip — is my greatest vegetable discovery for this winter. Although its name would indicate that it is a root vegetable (“rave” means “root”, as in betterave [beetroot] or celeri-rave [celeryroot]) it is in fact a surface vegetable that belongs to the cabbage family. It is also exceptionally rich in vitamins and nutrients.

I first spotted it in the display of my favorite produce stall at the market, and was initially drawn to it because of its interesting look — a plump pastel green body with graceful little arms shooting up from all sides and twirling around, ending in large green leaves. I asked the stall keeper about them, the one who’s so pretty and has a smile so fresh you would swear she just hopped right out of the salad crates, the one who’s always glad to advise about cooking methods and recipes (I usually pretend I’m not quite ready until she’s available to take my order).

She explained that the greens are edible and can be used like parsley, while the best use for the body is to peel it, slice it thinly, and eat the slices raw with a little fleur de sel sprinkled on top. This came as a surprise, it sounded like such a summery use for what I had imagined to be a root vegetable, destined for boiling and stewing and roasting (all methods you could also apply to our friend the chou-rave).

I promptly tried this at home and from then on became a die-hard fan of raw chou-rave. The flesh is crunchy like a radish but it has none of the radish’s peppery bite, and its flavor is sweet and subtly nutty. The slices are moist enough that you can press them gently onto a little pile of salt so a few flakes will stick, a beautifully complement in terms of taste and texture.

But my personal preference, for a tasty and healthy appetizer, is to match it with spirulina gomasio — my greatest condiment discovery for this winter.

Spirulina Gomasio

Gomasio à la Spiruline

[Spirulina Gomasio]

I’m always happy to try new and intriguing food. It’s a hit-or-miss kind of habit and I have on occasion bought things that turned out to be nasty (in that ugh-nasty-nasty-bleh-spit-spit kind of way), but it’s all in the name of science and research, yes?

My organic grocery store in particular seems very much aware of that penchant of mine, and regularly puts out displays to subtly direct my attention towards this or that product. I generally steer clear of the things that are too obviously targeted at the health-food nut, because they often cease to look and feel like real food to me. But I recently let one such display convince me.

I bought a little bag of spirulina gomasio, something I had never ever heard of before.

Continue reading »

Grape Marc Aged Tomme

Tomme Affinée au Marc de Raisin

However uncanny the resemblance is, this is not a slice of blueberry streusel cheesecake. This is a Tomme Affinée au Marc de Raisin, sometimes referred to as “Who-the-hell-put-grime-on-my Cheese”.

Tomme de Savoie is a cow’s milk cheese à pâte pressée non cuite (pressed, unheated cheese *), and this one has been aged under a thick blanket of grape marc, the residue that’s left after pressing the fruit to make wine.

Tomme is not normally a very strong cheese — it is mostly fruity and mellow with a very slight sharpness — but this treatment deepens its flavor greatly, lending it a very pleasant earthiness. (Oh, and you don’t eat the layer of grape marc: you give it a taste for the sake of personal enlightenment, but soon conclude that it tastes like, well, grime.)

[* For a wealth of information on French cheese and in particular a most helpful description of the different categories (pâte molle, persillée, pressée ; croûte fleurie, lavée, naturelle), I recommend this website, made by a cheese enthusiast from Denmark (in English, French or Danish, whichever you understand best!).]

Continue reading »

Lady Apple and the Tramp

La Pomme et le Clochard

This apple you see here is one of my very favorite varieties. Oh sure, it doesn’t look like much from the outside: round with slightly flattened top and bottom, its yellow uneven skin is matte with brownish freckles. Quite far from the glossy prom queens of the apple family — Gala, Granny Smith or Golden.

But slice it (I have personally been using the exact same technique since time immemorial — cutting the apple in quarters, then coring all quarters before slicing each in three moon crescents) and you will discover a white almost fluorescent flesh, glistening with moisture, juicy and sweet.

This apple bears the interesting name of Pomme Clochard (tramp apple — “tramp” being used here in the sense of vagrant or bum). Its full botanical name is Pomme Reinette Clochard, which is even more interesting: reinette is a variety of apples, but it also means literally “little queen”. So: little queen or tramp?

Continue reading »

Get the newsletter

Receive FREE email updates with all the latest recipes, plus exclusive inspiration and Paris tips. You can also choose to be notified when a new post is published.

View the latest edition of the newsletter.