Mon Cahier de Recette

Mon Cahier de Recette

[My Recipe Book]

Six or seven years ago, I started a little recipe book. At that time, I still lived at my parents’ and hardly ever cooked, except when they were away, and then there would be the obligatory calls to my mother for the recipe to gratin de courgette or quiche lorraine, and how do you cook potatoes again?

I bought a spiral notebook with three sections, and neatly labeled them “Salé”, “Sucré” and “Divers” (savory, sweet and miscellaneous). I then proceeded to ask my mom, once and for all, about her oft-requested recipes and cooking tips. It took a few sessions in the kitchen, with her preparing dinner, and me sitting on a stool, asking questions and taking notes.

I hardly added any recipe to the notebook after that, new ones were filed on my computer or in a clippings file instead, but I always kept it with me, and it really helped when I started to cook in the US and couldn’t call my mother at the drop of a hat. After a while of course, I didn’t even need to open it anymore, because I knew most of those recipes by heart.

Continue reading »

Mint Carrot Soup

[Mint Carrot Soup]

Have you ever noticed how un-photogenic soup is? Well, now you have! The very things that make soup tasty and comforting, all pureed chunks and blended veggies, make it somewhat messy close up.

In this case, I almost didn’t post about the soup because I was unhappy about the picture. But then I decided that the dictatorship of beauty would not rule here, and that my soup very much deserved a post. As with pudding, you know where the proof is!

This is a very easy soup to make on a weeknight, and it’s a great use for the slim young carrots which are starting to appear in bunches on produce stalls at this time of year. Carrots and mint are a very subtle and successful pairing, the colors are beautiful, and the overall result is very spring-like.

You can choose to stir in a little honey if you’d like, to bring out the carrots’ sweetness, especially if you’re using thick winter carrots. If you have young spring carrots however, I suggest you let those ladies sing a cappella.

Continue reading »

Crème de Calisson

Crème de Calisson

On a recent Saturday morning, Marie-Laure, Ludo and I embarked on a large-scale cooking-toy shopping expedition, ostensibly to get Laurence a birthday present. It was their first time experiencing the magic of E.Dehillerin, A.Simon and Mora, and we had a grand time, which culminated in a delicious lunch at Oliopanevino, a tiny Italian restaurant a stone’s throw from Dehillerin.

Among the absolute must-sees of the area is, of course, G.Detou. In addition to being a splendid place to buy baking supplies in bulk, G.Detou also offers a selection of great products in regular sizes – chocolate, jams and condiments – for a much more reasonable price than anywhere else.

And there, amidst the candied violets and the chocolate-covered almonds, stood this jar of crème de calisson. Calisson! Creamy! In a jar! If that isn’t the best idea in the history of mankind, I don’t know what is.

Continue reading »

Raspberry Rhubarb Grunt

On Sunday, my parents and I were invited to lunch at my sister Céline’s, and I offered to bring dessert. With the beautiful spring weather we’ve been having, I felt like making something light and fruit-based. Rhubarb season has just begun and we are all big fans in my family, so that was the fruit of choice.

I looked around the web, and read good reviews of Nigella‘s rhubarb grunt. It sounded easy (hardly unusual for a Nigella recipe) so I set my heart on it. I had never heard of grunts before, so I did a little research, and found out that they are a traditional dessert from Ireland, Newfoundland and New England, in which fruit is covered with lumps of dough, and cooked on the stove (the more traditional way) or in the oven.

Grunts also go by the name of slumps or bucklers, and are close cousins of the cobbler. As the dessert cooks, the dough dumplings “slump” or “buckle”, and some say you can hear the fruit “grunt” as the air escapes. Or maybe it’s the eaters who grunt with pleasure, that part is none too clear.

I made a few modifications to Nigella’s recipe, adding raspberries, lowering the sugar (I like my rhubarb to be tart) and butter content, and substituting whole wheat flour for part of the regular flour. I wasn’t sure what whipped double cream was, so I just beat my crème fraîche with a whisk before adding it in. Not much though, for I have no patience and little strength.

Some say you can hear the fruit “grunt” as the air escapes. Or maybe it’s the eaters who grunt with pleasure, that part is none too clear.

My sister is starting to really get into cooking, and this couldn’t make me happier. In her previous apartments she had very little kitchen space to play around in (and I do mean very little kitchen space), but her new apartment boasts a kitchen of much more reasonable size, in which she has room to spread her wings. It seems my enthusiasm is infectious and we find ourselves in more and more conversations about kitchen apparel, menu planning, recipes and food shopping. I love explaining and helping and sharing so much that it is a real joy to get calls from my sister or my friends, asking about a dish or a technique: I get all excited and probably give way too much information, but it seems to help anyway because they come back with reports of success, and more requests.

On this particular sunny day, Céline had baked delicious mini crustless quiches in her new silicon molds. She served them warm, as an appetizer, while we toasted with Champagne. As a main course we had oven-baked fish fillets on a bed of Provencal vegetables (onions, zucchini, eggplant, tomatoes and peppers), cooked to perfection and very tasty. The living-room was drenched in sunlight, the white wine my father had brought was excellent, a light breeze was blowing in from the large windows which look out onto a park — precisely my idea of a happy Sunday lunch.

We went on to eat the raspberry rhubarb grunt, which I had returned the still-warm (but turned off) oven as we ate the main dish, and we all enjoyed it very much. Rhubarb and berries are always a delightful pairing, the rhubarb’s delicate pink hues being brought out by the bolder berry colors. The scone-like topping cooks in the steam generated by the fruit and this makes for a great consistency, soft and moist from the fruit underneath, golden and crispy on top.

Continue reading »

Truffled Scrambled Eggs

Brouillade de Truffe

[Truffled Scrambled Eggs]

The other day at lunchtime, I was on my own and starving. A glance in the fridge, and lunch rolled out before my eyes : I had one truffle left in its little jar, some eggs, fresh watercress, and fabulous walnut bread from the BoulangEpicier, which Patricia, the best neighbor in the whole wide world, had bought for me on her way home from work.

Upon closer inspection, the top of the truffle had grown a delicate little beard, white and fuzzy. I hesitated for a second, then thought well, aren’t truffles a type of fungus in the first place? A little more wouldn’t hurt, would it? And how often do I have truffles, bearded or otherwise, in the fridge?

I cut off the top and put the incident behind me.

I whipped up the brouillade (the name derives from “brouillé”, which means “scrambled”), rinsed and seasoned the watercress, toasted the bread, and arranged all this on a plate. I sat myself comfortably at the bar, and enjoyed my classy lunch, while leafing idly through the April issue of Gourmet Magazine, which my friend Nassim kindly brought back from his recent trip to NY.

Alternate name for the recipe : “How to feel like a superstar“.

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.