I don’t really mind waiting in line at the grocery store. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t choose the slowest cashier on purpose: that usually happens without any special effort on my part. But I do enjoy this idle time, during which I can study the latest chewing-gum innovations (they seem to come up with new ones every other week), mentally review my shopping list (and make the occasional frantic dash for that one capital item I forgot), and more importantly, peek into other people’s baskets and try to picture their life from the mundane little things they’re buying.

It was a particularly long wait the other day (someone hadn’t weighed his apples, or perhaps was applying for a membership card and wanting to hear all the details, I forget), so much so that I ran out of strangers’ baskets to study, and had no choice but to turn to mine. It dawned on me then that I hardly ever mention grocery store products here on C&Z. Suddenly all the little guys in my basket were staring at me with a sour look. “Yeah, why is that?”, they cried accusingly, “Why the injustice? Don’t we deserve a kind word once in a while? A bit of recognition for all the hard work? For heaven’s sake, is that too much to ask?”

A bit flustered, faintly worried that they might start a riot then and there, I had to promise I would write a post and turn the spotlight on those loyal supermarket favorites. That seemed to appease them, and we were able to proceed through the register without further grievance.

So. If you find yourself in line behind me one day and crane your neck, chances are my basket will contain:

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[Traditional French Cooking Class: Update]

It has been much much longer than I thought it would be since my first post about the traditional French cooking class I am taking this year (read more about it here). Let me tell you, if you think quitting your dayjob will give you more time, you are as mistaken as I was — time just seems to have hopped on a supersonic jet since I started working for myself.

Anyway. Since I am now about halfway through the program, I thought I would share a little update.

On the first day, the organizers explained that they admitted eighteen students as a rule, but that after a few weeks the attendance usually dwindled down to fourteen or so. I am quite pleased to report that our class has had zero drop-outs so far: considering the number of candidates who applied for that course — about 500 — I think it’s only decent that those who do get in make the most of that opportunity. I am pleased, but not all that surprised, as it was quite obvious from the start that everyone in our class was serious about it.

And after so many weeks of cooking side by side and crying over the same onions, it’s really nice to see friendships emerge. As can be expected from such a large group, not everyone gets on perfectly well with everyone else — then again nothing entertains me like a healthy dose of sarcasm — but overall we form a very good-natured team.

We all have different reasons for being there: just a few are complete beginners, most are enthusiast homecooks who wish to improve on their techniques, while others have professional ambitions — some of the latter have signed up to take the CAP exam in May, the basic French culinary diploma. I personally won’t be taking it with them, as it requires a fair amount of homework and I have very little time to devote to it this year, but it is something I’m keeping on a back burner for the future.

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Biscuits Chocolat et Fèves de Cacao

Soft and cakey and thrice chocolate-flavored — from the velvet of melted chocolate, the strength of cocoa powder, and the aromatic crunch of cacao nibs — these bite-size cookies should fit into either one of these Valentine’s Day scenarios:

1. You tend to throw yourself rhapsodically into the whole gift-and-card-and-flower-giving thing: it’s fun, it’s red, and it gives you the perfect excuse to buy and eat chocolate. In this case, you can bake a batch or two of these cookies, wrap them up in all manner of glossy ribbons and heart-shaped tins, and spread the love.

2. You couldn’t care less about Valentine, funny or otherwise, and February 14th is just a normal day for you. In fact, you have obliviously made plans for the evening that do not include your sweetheart, but neither of you has given it a thought. In this case, these cookies can simply be added to the pile of “things you want to eat”.

3. You are adamantly opposed to this epidemic of smoochy silliness. As an act of civil disobedience, you plan on being particularly unpleasant and grating and difficult for the whole 24 hours. That way, people will better appreciate what a treat you normally are to live with. It’s an interesting strategy, but may I suggest you bake some of these cookies the next day to make up for your attitude?

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[Egg in Aspic]

And today, let me introduce you to one of the quirky wonders of old-school French charcuterie: the Oeuf en Gelée.

It’s a simple preparation, really: a fresh egg, expertly poached into a plump oval, nested in an amber casing of veal aspic, and supported by a few benevolent companions — here, a strip of cooked ham, a bit of chopped parsley, a small piece of tomato and a slice of cornichon.

I am well aware that this may not seem like such a compelling idea, and may even put off more than one aspic-shy eater. I myself turned my nose up at these eggs for years, dismissing them as an obsolete oddity, quite literally congealed in time.

But that was before I actually tasted them (and before I realized you can’t just decide you don’t like something before you’ve even tried it). Maxence had been a long-time fan — it was always a treat when his mother got him one for lunch — and when we started living and food-shopping together in Paris, he persuaded me to give them a chance. I was pleasantly surprised, and quick to join him in his devotion.

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