L' Escargot, S'il Vous Plait.

I love French food. I have yet to meet a French dish that I did not like. Which is why I had always hesitated to try the escargot. I did not want my bubble burst. I wanted to stay in my happy comfort zone of loving all things French, for if I didn't try it, I couldn't possibly dislike it.

But deep down, with that lurking sense of adventure, I had to know how it tasted. Each time I would see it on the menu, I would make note of it in my head, that it was something that needed to be crossed off the bucket list. But not this time.... The courage would rise and dissipate.

The latest time I saw it on the appetizer menu, I mentioned it to Stephen.

"They have escargot here," I casually remarked.

"Oh, really? Would you like to order it?" he asked.

"I've never had it, but I'm not sure I would like the texture. I don't like slimy things in my mouth or otherwise."

"Well, I'm going to order it and you can try it if you want."

Which, essentially, was his way of not-so-subtly telling me I would be trying it that night, since he knows if it is placed on the table, I will muster up the courage to consume a bite. It's a dare. And I will not turn that down.

As we await the arrival of the dish, I get a little anxious sitting in my chair. Have I ever been this nervous to try a food before?

It comes arranged in a circle of six little pods each containing one escargot hidden in melted butter, garlic, and herbs. A tiny double-pronged fork is placed before me. Stephen reaches for his and then, again, I'm not sure I want to.

I bide some time talking about the lemon wedge, which is probably just an ornament, but question whether it is to be used in consumption of the escargot. Finally, Stephen has had enough of this dilly-dallying; he grabs his fork and gets ready to dive into the pod. Not wanting to miss out, I quickly scoop mine up and get ready to stab at whatever is hidden beneath the liquid.

I'm surprised by the greyish-brown blob which surfaces, certainly not pretty by any means. I pop it into my mouth swiftly, without a lot of extra thought. The garlic-butter mixure they have been bathing in is delightful. The texture of the escargot isn't as horrible as I thought. Perhaps the slime is dried out of them prior to cooking. Still, a bit on the rubbery side; it is not my favorite feeling when I'm eating something.

I eat my share, happy to partake in this gourmet French fare.  I might even venture to try them again. (Actually, I was researching ways of cooking them oneself: http://escargot.free.fr/eng/cooking.htm. There are even instructions on how to harvest them. I don't know if I'll go that far....)

Although, I do wonder how the French ever got la grande idée to cook up the insects eating the leaves in their gardens.  Perhaps it was form of punishment....execution for their bad behavior.

Lost in Translation

It is always a risk baking first thing upon rising in the morning as your brain might not be firing on all cylinders quite yet. But what is even more dangerous is attempting to bake with a recipe not written in your first language at the crack of dawn.

Having had several successes and failures with beating egg whites, I felt pretty confident translating -- battre le 3 blancs d'oeufs en neige -- to: beat them until they look like the soft, fluffy snow on mountain peaks. Not that dry, powdery stuff that makes it impossible to create snowballs... Then you've gone too far.

But with the beaten egg whites still standing ready on the mixer podium, I quickly took incorporer le melange avec blancs d'oeufs the wrong way and dumped the melange of mascarpone, sugar and egg yolks into the egg whites and whipped on the mixer. Flat. Splat. Runny whipped topping for my tiramisu. Something was wrong.

Oh yes, you're supposed to carefully, by hand, INCORPORATE -- this shouldn't have been so difficult since we do have a similar word in English, but for some reason I was thinking MIX, the first word I learned to translate from the French word incorporer.....aaaand probably because I do love to use my mixer so -- le melange avec blancs d'oeufs. Not to mention, I had messed up this process before and knew the quick-mix method with egg whites destroyed their foamy peaks.

But, never fear, I was saved by the leftover coffee from soaking les biscuits I had been drinking.

After a split second of panic when I realized that was the only mascarpone I had, I grabbed three more egg whites and beat them en neige, carefully incorporating the two mixtures together.


So I apologize if the tiramisu is a bit eggy and there are no eggs left in the carton for breakfast. I knew there was good reason for taking advantage of that 'buy one, get one free' sale on eggs at the grocery last week....

Tarte Tatin

Sorry not the greatest of pictures....not so pretty. But, oh so delicious!

Something strange happened the other day: I discovered an apple treat made WITHOUT cinnamon that I enjoyed. Without cinnamon. A few days ago I would have told you that it was impossible to make an apple dessert without its lovely cinnamon. I mean, they're like salt and pepper, milk and cookies, French fries and ketchup, Corona and lime.... They can't truly THRIVE without each other.

Can they??

But then I happened upon a recipe for Tarte Tatin, a necessary ending to my fine French supper the other night. Julia's recipe I did not use as that resides in the second volume of which I am without at this point in time. So I took out my trusty Bubby's Homemade Pies to search out an apple tart recipe. It did not fail me.

Another recipe I've been intimidated by (man, I need to regain a bit of confidence in the cooking/baking department these days....!!), for it requires you to bake your pie upside down. You place your filling in the bottom of the dish, the crust on top, and then you invert your pie once it comes out of the oven so that your delightful apple 'flower' is featured.

And, as I was saying, no cinnamon. The caramel sauce drizzled into the bottom of the pan soaks into the lemony apples. Hence, the result is a zingy, caramelized flavor. It stands on its own without the help of my trusty cinnamon.

Truly, I didn't even miss the cinnamon.

Tarte Tatin

from Bubby's Homemade Pies

Caramel

1/4 c. water

1/2 c. sugar

2 T. unsalted butter

pinch of salt

Filling

3 lbs. apples

2 T. fresh-squeezed lemon juice

1 T. lemon zest

1/2 c. sugar

pinch of salt

4 T. unsalted butter

To Make Caramel: Place water in a saucepan and add the sugar. Heat over medium-high heat, shaking the pan as the sugar dissolves so that it mixes and does not stick to the edges of the pan. Do not stir. It is important to keep the sugar-water moving so that it does not burn. Eventually the sugar-water will boil rapidly and begin to gel a bit. Keep shaking the pan around. It is done when it becomes a light shade of brown. If you like really burnt caramel, you can wait until it is the color of amber and reads about 380 F on a candy thermometer. (I made mine without the thermometer, removing it from the heat when it was somewhere in between honey and amber colored.) Pour this into the bottom of your pie dish to cover the bottom. It can be made ahead and set out at room temperature.

Preheat the oven to 450 F.

Peel and core apples, slicing to about 1/4 in. thickness. You want them to be of uniform size as they will be made into a spiral pattern in your dish. Toss them in a bowl with the sugar, lemon juice and zest. Heat them in a large saucepan on the stove over medium heat until the edges are soft. Cool to room temperature. (So that you do not burn your fingers while assembling like I did because I'm too impatient.)

Using the dish coated in caramel, make a spiral pattern starting from the center outwards, using your nicest looking apples on the bottom. Continue the pattern a second time on top of the first layer. At the third layer, just toss in the remaining apples.

Roll out your pie crust to a size slightly larger than the pie dish. Place the crust on top of the apples and trim off around the edges leaving about an inch extra. Fold the edges around the apples. This will be the bottom of the crust eventually so no need to vent or decorate.

Bake the tart for 15 minutes. Then, turn the oven down to 350 F and bake 30 more minutes.

Cool the tart for 5 minutes before inverting. Run a sharp knife around the edge to loosen the tart. Place a dish larger than the tart on top of the pie dish. Flip it over quickly (key word -- otherwise it will slide like mine) to remove the tart from the pan. Scrape out any remaining caramel and drizzle over the top.

Boeuf Bourguignon

I was transported to another place and time last night. Ryan and I may have been sitting in his cozy condo listening to the hum of air conditioning unit on the porch, but in my mind I was with him at a sidewalk cafe on the bank of the Seine, feasting on a fabulous French supper.

Something about a glass of red wine, a rich beef stew and crusty bread, carries me away to those warm summer nights in France.

I have to say, Julia's Child's Boeuf Bourguignon is worth all the hype surrounding it and more. I think I was seriously swooning after the first bite. I possibly could have eaten the whole pot if not for a serious exercise of self-control.

The process for creating the dish was lengthy, but enjoyable as I sliced, diced and danced my way around the kitchen. The bacon was seared, the meat was browned, the vegetables sauteed, before adding the herbs, beef and red wine. It then slowly simmered in the oven for 3 hours, gently coaxing all the delicious flavors into a fine symphony of taste. Tiny onions and mushrooms were sauteed in separate pans before being added to the pot at the end. The tiny onions are actually boiled in red wine for about an hour, which lends them to truly stand out when encountered in the dish. And, no, it is not too much onion... ;-) (I was a bit worried about that. Although I think I would add another carrot or two next time. I like my veggies.)

My biggest 'beef' (har, har) with this dish was the number of pots and pans I had to dirty....actually, some several times since the number of pots and pans in the kitchen is rather low; hence, some did double, or even triple, duty throughout the course of the night. Scrub-a-dub-dub......

My choice of wine for the evening -- both in regards cooking and drinking -- was Beringer's Merlot. It was a simple wine, but deep enough to satisfy.

The juices soaked up beautifully with a piece of bread and/or mashed potatoes. In fact, I would say they are essential elements to this meal. My beouf bourguignon was accompanied by Pugliese and white cheddar mashed potatoes.

Will I make it again?? You bet. As a matter of fact, I'd like to try some of Julia's other recipes. I've been intimated, as they seem like so many hoops to jump through for the final result, but the truth is, is that Julia's just thorough with her instructions. This dish took a long time to cook, but not too horribly long to prepare. And as long as I have a good tune playin' in the kitchen, I'll

stay in there as long as it takes to get the job done. :-)

Good to the last drop....

Raspberry Squares

I have this thing for French pastries. So does my waist, but we won't talk about that.... ;-)

I pine for the buttery croissants of the boulangeries and the sweet layers of fraisiers from the patisseries. Last summer I spent 6 weeks studying in Paris. And each day during those 6 weeks, I indulged in a different pastry or bread. I tried to limit this to once a day, but it was difficult wandering around the city, the smell of sweet butter wafting out of the shops, one on nearly every corner.

My favorite activity on a Saturday morning was to leave the house early and head to the boulangerie for a freshly baked pain au chocolat and a cafe au lait. The pain au chocolat is a long, thin sweet bread (like Brioche) studded with tiny morsels of melted chocolate. I would dip the pain into my cafe before each bite, allowing the delicious flavors of coffee, chocolate and butter to slide easily down my throat.


I discovered this book at a library book sale a few weeks ago. Obviously, I could not pass it up. The opportunity to create my own Parisien pastries in the comfort of my own home...! This was nearly a dream come true.

Although, I have since discovered that the ingredients available in the United States are subpar to French butter, cream and such. And the ambience created by the sidewalk cafe in Paris can't quite be replicated. But it will, at least, allow me to prolong my dreams of Paris a bit until we meet again....



My first attempt at Parisien pastries were these raspberry bars. Simple enough, non? What sets them apart from American jam bars is the addition of almond meal to the shortbread dough and a light egg wash on top, producing a nice, crunchy texture on the initial bite. I was running a little low on preserves so the full amount was cut short. But I think it turned out to be just the right amount of fruity sweetness for these tasty morsels.

Carres aux Framboises

(or Raspberry Squares)

Adapted from Paris, Boulangerie, Patisserie

Pate Sablee

3 c. all-purpose flour

1 c. sugar

1/2 c. almond meal

1 large egg, beaten

2 1/2 sticks of unsalted butter, cut into pieces, softened

Assembly

1 large egg, beaten

3/4 c. - 1 c. raspberry jam, more if needed

sugar, any combination of brown, white, and powdered

Pate Sablee: Mix together flour, sugar and almond meal. Add the egg and butter and mix until it comes together. Roll into a ball, cover with plastic wrap and chill for at least half an hour.

Assembly: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a large glass Pyrex dish. Divide dough in half. Flour a surface and roll out to about 1/8 in. thickness. Fit into the bottom of the dish, trimming the edges to fit the pan. (I could never get this to work; the dough kept coming apart when I tried to pick it up. Either I didn't refrigerate it long enough or there was enough moisture. At any rate, I simply took pieces and smashed them into the bottom of the dish. The same with the top layer.) Spread a 1/4 in. layer of preserves on the pastry. Roll out remaining pastry to 1/8 in. thickness and press onto top of preserves. Trim edges of pastry. (Or press dough in pieces onto preserves.) Brush with egg wash and sprinkle with sugar. Bake until pastry is golden, about 30 - 40 minutes. Cut pastry into 3 inch squares once cooled. (It is vitally important to let bars cool before cutting them, otherwise they break apart.)

Pensées Français

This morning I am dreaming of Paris. Sitting at a sidewalk cafe, watching the passerby, plotting out my next exploit while sipping my thick, rich chocolat chaud avec chantilly. I pick up my copy of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, immersing myself in Hugo's somber descriptions of Paris. The cathedral looms ominously over the Île de la Cité, swathing it in its dark shadows. Sweeping over the facade, I recoil at the sight of the grotesque gargoyles. From atop the Gothic tower, I glance out over the expanse of the city peeking into the activity of chaque arrondissement. Les Parisiens do not stop; life is too short not to take advantage of every moment. The sheer artistry, beauty of this city is nearly overwhelming....

Cooking French

As a birthday gift, I received from my family the duet of Julie and Julia: My Year Living Dangerously by Julie Powell and Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. The former, I think, was meant to inspire my culinary pursuits, particularly in regards Julia's cookbook, but I'm afraid it may have actually frightened me from peeling open the cover of the Fleur-de-Lis adorned book.

It looks so inviting.

But, Julie recounts so many obstacles and outright disasters in her memoir of cooking through the entire cookbook over the course of a year, that I nearly want to hide under the bed for fear of a beady-eyed lobster coming straight out of the book when I crack it open. It is causing nightmares. She tells these fantastic stories of riding the New York subway with smelly, live crustaceans or of her attempts to cut through bone marrow with a saw. I nearly cower at the thought of roasting a chicken now.

Okay. She's a great storyteller. I couldn't entertain with an exciting story to save my life. My experience is in the kitchen. Not that I could easily whip out any of Julia's recipes any given day...I'm just saying, having cracked more than two eggs open in a lifetime, I think I can handle a quiche without too much folderol.

The challenge is slowly gaining ground in my mind. Oh dear, what will I try out first?