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 »

[Bergamot Oranges]

I bought these two from a basket at the Batignolles market the other day, intrigued as I was by their label and shape (notice the cute nipples).

Alternative citruses have been getting more and more attention these past few years, with yuzus, combavas, kumquats and cedrats coming out of the shadows, infusing dishes with unusual flavors, and perking up restaurant menus (“Um, what is yuzu again?”, the rookie diner asks).

The Bergamot Orange (simply called la bergamote in French, whereas “bergamot” in English is a herb from the mint family) is mostly grown in Italy and is believed to be a natural cross between lime and sour orange. Needless to say, this heritage makes it quite the sour little guy, but its distinctive and complex flavor more than makes up for it.

Its rind is very rich in essential oils, used in perfumes and cosmetics, and its zest and juice are used in pastries and confections: in particular, the square bergamot candy is a famed specialty from the French city of Nancy. And of course, bergamot is the dominant flavor in Earl Grey tea, as I suddenly remembered just after juicing one, trying to make out what the smell on my fingers reminded me of.

I used some of the juice in a pleurotte mushroom salad (recipe on its way), to which it gave a delicious aromatic twist. The rest I squeezed and served to my friend’s daughter Maïa, with whom I share an uncanny taste for pure lemon juice to make the tongue recoil and who, being quite the little taste adventurer, asked for seconds of this novel and exciting version.

[Chocolate Dipped Apricots]

What would you do with melted chocolate leftover from making orangettes and florentins? Throw it out? You have got to be kidding.

No. The wise thing to do was rummage through my kitchen cabinets for something that would be nice and dippable. And I thus unearthed, oh joy, the large bag of dried apricots I had bought for my Apricot Sticky Toffee Pudding. These little orange nuggets keep remarkably well, and they were still plump and fragrant and delicious. I tried one or two or three just to be sure.

I dropped a few in the bowl of glorious liquid chocolate, stirring them around until they all wore a nice thick coat and all the chocolate was used up. The apricots were left out to dry and harden, then slipped in the little crystal bags along with the other chocolate gifts.

Fruit and chocolate. Simplicity at its very best, the slightly hardened layer of chocolate giving way to the tender apricot chewiness. And one could not find a better mix of chocolate sophistication and ease of preparation. In fact, I think the expression “easy as pie” should be henceforth replaced by “easy as chocolate-dipped apricots”. You with me on this?

Continue reading »

[Warm Tarbais Bean Salad with Walnut Oil]

The 11th edition of Is My Blog Burning?, the world-famous collaborative food blogging event, is hosted by Cathy and her theme of choice is Beans!

For my contribution, it seemed only fitting that I use the prince of beans, a.k.a Le Haricot Tarbais. Originally brought back from the New World in the 16th century, this white kidney-shaped bean is now grown specifically in the region of Tarbes, a town in the Hautes-Pyrénées. It is the only bean protected by a Label Rouge and a regional appelation, that guarantee its production method and quality.

The Haricot Tarbais has an exceptionally thin skin which underlines its soft and non-mealy texture, but still allows it to keep its shape while cooking (and makes it easier to digest, too). The richness and acidity of the soil, as well as the mix of mountain and ocean climates it grows in, result in a very subtle and unique taste.

Tarbais beans can be bought fresh, semi-dry or dry: the dry ones are usually sold at about 12 euros a kilo, making them a miniature luxury. They are much appreciated in a variety of local dishes (cassoulet, garbure…), and were more recently brought back into the limelight by a few famed chefs.

The interesting thing about the Tarbais bean is that the plant has a way of growing and blossoming that makes mecanical harvesting impossible: only the human hand will do. In the sixties, its culture was progressively abandoned because it was too costly. A few patches thankfully remained in the back of farms, harvested by the farmer’s family for their own consumption. In the eighties however, a few local farmers decided to bring the tradition back to life, and started lobbying for the proper protection of the Tarbais bean, which finally led to the creation of the Label Rouge.

I had bought a bag of these precious dry beans at G.Detou a little while back, and since this was my first time cooking with them, I decided to go for a no-frills recipe that would showcase their taste and texture in the most simple way: a warm salad sounded like a good idea on a winter night. It turned out delightfully satisfying, the peppery rucola teasing the beans’ softness, and the walnut oil dressing a great match to their nutty flavor. This will be great served as a first course, or as a side to duck or game.

Continue reading »