[Raspberry Rice Pudding]

Most of you know by now about Is My Blog Burning?, the collaborative food blogging event, in which food bloggers post a recipe on a particular theme on the same day. Well, today is the 4th edition, hosted by Pim, and the theme this time is “Around the World in a Bowl of Rice”.

As I have come to expect on such occasions, my mind has been a battlefield for the past week, as ever-growing throngs of widely different ideas fought in an effusion of cherry tomato jam, to be selected as the C&Z knight in armor. In the end, as dawn broke and the dust settled on the bodies of the less adroit or more unfortunate combatants, I began to discern the shape of my winner, this simple dessert recipe, standing tall and unscathed in the midst of this desolate scene.

Riz au Lait (“ree-oh-leh”) is the epitomy of the French grandmotherly dessert : simple, homely, comforting, sweet and creamy. It is one of Maxence’s favorite desserts, and both his grandmothers have their own version of it. It sometimes appears on restaurant menus, slightly vamped up, as a part of that “regressive food” trend. We also recently had some in Madrid, where it is called, unsuprisingly, “arroz con leche”. There is no definitive recipe : different versions call for milk only or milk and cream, the milk to cream to sugar to rice proportions vary, as do the flavoring spices : most recipes call for vanilla, but some use cinnamon as well.

I created my version based on several of these recipes, wanting to use only milk (half-skim) and trying to choose a sensible sugar to rice ratio : I wanted sweet, but not overly sweet. Some of the recipes I’d seen mixed in raisins or apples, but I wanted to add some raspberries. This turned out to be an excellent idea : it gives the creamed rice an appetizing pink color, and the tingly raspberry tartness is the perfect companion to the milky taste of this dessert. The raspberries also blend into the creamed rice, thus preserving the nice baby-mush texture that riz au lait fans like so much.

I served this for dessert after one of our impromptu dinners with our neighbors. The creamed rice had cooled to room temperature, and I scooped it into glasses and sprinkled crumbled speculoos on top at the last minute, to create a crunchy/creamy contrast.

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[Cauliflower Semolina with Dried Fruits]

Forenote : in the US, the term couscous is used to mean the North-African wheat pasta, shaped like very small beads. The actual name for this is, in fact, semolina — “semoule” in French. Couscous is the typical North-African dish which includes steamed semolina, as well as vegetables and grilled meat.

I made this recipe using a head of cauliflower I got in my Campanier basket. The poor thing had been in my produce drawer for a while : I received it as the days were becoming increasingly spring-like, and cauliflower was really the last thing I felt like eating. Zucchini, tomatoes, spring onions, young carrots, yes. Cauliflower, well, that was just a bit to wintery.

As an aside, I am considering marking a pause in my Campanier subscription : shopping for fresh fruits and vegetable is more colorful and fun in the summer, there are more types of produce available, and I think I’d rather have the freedom of getting whatever I feel like eating. We also haven’t been consistently happy with the fruit we’ve been getting, it’s been all too frequently just bland. And while I can tolerate an average apple, my nectarines have to be earth-shattering.

But back to the cauliflower : I was at a loss as to what to make with it, but ELLE à table, ELLE’s cooking magazine, saved the day. I was clipping recipes out of the April issue and a recipe for Semoule de Chou-fleur caught my attention : it was served as a side to lamb liver skewers, and it required grating the cauliflower, steaming it, then seasoning it with the lamb’s marinade (brought back to a boil of course, as is the food safety absolute requirement), and some dried fruits.

A sweet and savory recipe sounded like a very original way to use cauliflower, and it turned out very well : the cauliflower was a breeze to grate in my food processor, and it took on a very pleasant al dente texture in the steamer (I used my trusted Asian wicker baskets). The dressing was lovely, with just the right sweetness, and the complex taste of preserved lemons worked very well in this dish.

Citron confit (preserved lemon) is a staple condiment in North-African cuisine, and you can easily make it yourself. I made a jar about a year ago and am just now getting to the end of it. The Hungry Tiger recently gave a recipe for them, which is similar to the one I had used back then. You can omit the preserved lemon in this cauliflower recipe, but I do encourage you to make some yourself, it’s easy and very rewarding.

The original recipe called for mint but I didn’t have any on hand. It was still very good without it, but I’ll try to add it in next time as I think it would nicely round out the color and taste of this dish.

And of course, if you’re on a low-carb diet, as seems to be the case for half the the planet (or at least the Western, spoiled, overfed side of it), this is your chance to make mock-couscous!

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On Saturday, after walking around Madrid and engaging in a little healthy food shopping, we went home for a much-deserved nap, and didn’t go out again until 9 pm, for a pre-dinner drink.

In Spain, people eat late. And I do mean late : we Parisians have a tendency to be late diners as well, but they take the concept to a whole new level. As we drove into the city it was 9:30 pm, going on 10, and the restaurants were all empty, with a waiter or two waiting idly at the door, smoking a cig and enjoying the evening breeze.

Our friends first took us to a bar called Ducados Café, where we enjoyed the bestest frozen mojito in the galaxy, and possibly beyond. I’d never had anything quite like it : think frozen margarita, only green, mint and rum. So sweet and yummy it’s almost a dessert, and I gulped it down in five minutes flat. Which of course may explain the instantaneous heightening of my already excellent mood.

We walked through the narrow streets, which were finally starting to fill up – it was 11:30 pm after all – to the restaurant where we wanted to have dinner, a traditional taberna called Toscana. The restaurant room was large, with white roughcast walls and wooden panels, exposed beams and dark wood furniture. On the right was a long bar at which people were standing, drinking and nibbling on tapas, using (or not) the little disposal cans built into the bar at foot level.

The restaurant walls and ceiling were crowded with miscellaneous items of decoration : framed photos of corridas, people or landscapes, decorated plates, iron cauldrons… Legs of ham were hanging from above the bar (with the requisite safety mini-umbrellas), brushing shoulders with an army of yellow crookneck squash of varying sizes, and earthenware sangria pitchers, with their characteristic pinched mouth that prevents the fruit from spilling out when you serve.

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Maxence and I spent just spent a lovely week-end in Madrid, visiting friends of ours who live just outside of the city with their two little girls. We were lucky enough to arrive just as the weather was changing from drab to splendid, making it possible to enjoy the big garden, the pool (okay, the sight of the pool, the water was far too cold for me), and the barbecue.

On Saturday, after a long walk around the city center and a delicious turron ice-cream, we stopped at a little ham store called Paraíso del Jamón. This area of Madrid was full of these old-fashioned little stores (including a Palacio del Jamón and a Museo del Jamón), a little dark and mysterious, with row upon row of ham, hanging from the walls and ceiling to dry and age, each with its little upside down umbrella to catch the dripping juices — a thoughtful precaution to keep the customers’ hair clean.

Most of them seemed to double up as tapas bar too, with an open kitchen area and high stools, and the one we went to had intriguing and very appetizing dishes on display. Next time, I’d love to try and have lunch in one of these places.

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