Patte de Loup (Wolf's Paw Apple)

Patte de loup -- literally, wolf's paw -- is the name of an heirloom variety of apple that is chiefly grown in the Northwest of France, and is mentioned in horticultural documents as early as the Middle Age.

Small and oddly shapen, with a rugged, brownish yellow skin that often cracks and scars as if a wolf had clawed it, it is typically the kind of apple that did not stand a chance in the modern battle for glossy and perfectly calibrated specimens.

And yet the patte de loup is very close to apple perfection in my book: sweet and tart, with a firm flesh that is juicy but not too crisp, it does equally well eaten au couteau, i.e. sliced with a knife and munched on out of hand, or baked into a tarte tatin or an apple cake.

Posted on 9 May 2012 | 3:27 am

Scone Tops

We were expecting friends for brunch on Saturday morning, and I decided to bake scones. Not the triangular wedges stuffed with various ingredients often sold in the US, but the classic, round, plain, British kind.

For three years, almost to the day, I'd been sitting on a recipe that my dear friend Chika had shared with me, and which she'd drawn from Anton Edelmann's out-of-print book, Taking Tea at the Savoy. She had mentioned that this was her go-to scone recipe, and it was the one I intended to try, for a change from my usual yogurt scones.

The dough was quick and easy to assemble -- a definite plus for a brunch item -- and I rolled it out, according to the instructions, to a thickness of 1.5 cm (2/3 inch). Had I been more fully awake, I would probably have realized that this was a bit thin, and that there was little chance that these would puff up to the kind of height one expects from a scone.

Into the oven they went, with a touch of salt and sugar sprinkled across the top, and indeed, while the smell was heavenly and the baking time just right, my scones didn't quite look like scones.

Of course I served them anyway, with strawberries from Carpentras (hulled and halved an hour or two in advance and macerated with just a little sugar to bring out their juices and concentrate their flavor) and raw milk crème fraîche from the cheese shop -- a sort of strawberry shortcake* if you will.

And my not-quite-scones were delicious, flaky and tender and not too sweet, but I refrained from calling them anything, not wanting to linger on the fact that this wasn't quite the format I'd had in mind.

It's only a few hours later, after a good nap, that the following lightbulb went on in my brain: just like people make muffin tops using special pans, I had simply baked scone tops, which had the bonus advantage of fitting into the toaster easily for reheating, without slicing them in two and in so doing shedding crumbs at the bottom of the toaster.

Suddenly, I felt a lot better about the whole experience.

So, I'll let you decide to what thickness you choose to roll out the dough for these -- I'm giving you two suggestions in the recipe below -- but I hope you'll give them a try one way or the other: it really is a wonderfully simple and good recipe.

Do you have a go-to scone recipe of your own? And have you ever had a similar conundrum with some concoction of yours, which didn't quite feel like a success until you found just the right name for it?

* Did you know that the French version of that character is called Charlotte aux fraises?

Posted on 26 April 2012 | 2:30 am

Where to buy organic foods in Paris

I've recently received requests from a couple of readers who were about to move to (or spend a little while in) Paris, and were wondering about natural and organic foods, and where to find them.

Agriculture biologique is French for organic farming, and organic goods are referred to as produits bio. Organic produce, grains, dairy, and meat are increasingly popular with French consumers, and although they still come at a higher price than conventionally grown goods, they are now more widely available than ever.

In Paris, here are the sources you can choose from:

~ Greenmarkets

There are three all-organic open-air greenmarkets in Paris: Batignolles (Saturday mornings on boulevard des Batignolles outside the Rome métro station in the 17th -- my favorite), Raspail (Sunday mornings on boulevard Raspail, between rue du Cherche-Midi and rue de Rennes in the 6th), and Brancusi (Saturday mornings on Place Constantin in the 14th).

At these you will find produce, meat, fish, cheese, bread, and various specialty stalls that may be devoted to dried fruits and nuts, rôtisserie poultry, baked goods, potted herbs, flavored salts, herbal remedies, etc.

These are not, strictly speaking, farmers markets, as they welcome both growers and retailers (and growers who complement their own offerings with produce purchased from elsewhere), so it's worth asking for clarification if you'd rather buy your produce directly from the grower.

Prices also vary widely from stall to stall and can reach ridiculous heights, so it's good to take a full walk around the market and compare prices, and to have about you a general sense of how much you're willing to pay for your multicolored radishes and your goat cheese faisselle.

Beyond the organic nature of the produce, the secondary benefit of these markets is that they're great places to discover unusual varieties of herbs, fruits, and vegetables that you would never find in conventional stores.

Note that other, conventional greenmarkets (see full list) are likely to have one or two vendors selling organic produce.

~ Organic grocery stores

Several chains of organic grocery stores are represented in Paris, with locations sprinkled throughout the city: Naturalia (owned by the Monoprix group), Biocoop (my favorite, I just wish there was a location closer to me), Bio c' Bon (a newish and promising chain despite the ridiculous name), Les Nouveaux Robinsons (who recently opened their first Paris location and acquired the Bio Génération chain), and La Vie Claire.

In them you will find everything from fresh and packaged foods, to cleaning supplies, to beauty products. They will be your best shot if you're trying to find alternative flours and sweeteners, unrefined sugars, whole grains, legumes, nuts, oils, non-dairy milks, soy products, gluten-free ingredients, and anything remotely granola.

Posted on 18 April 2012 | 2:30 am

Candied Orange Slices

Drouant is a century-old Paris restaurant with a majestic Art Déco interior and private dining rooms where the jury for the Prix Goncourt, the most prestigious book award in France, convenes each fall to deliberate.

Beyond that literary glamour, Drouant also serves an excellent cuisine, and one of the features that have turned us into regulars is the poulet-frites that is offered for lunch on Sundays: a farm-raised roasted chicken served with a green salad and thick house-made fries that echo the typical family meal that is enjoyed at exactly that time of week all over the country.

And at the end of the meal, if you order coffee, it comes with a small saucer bearing a homemade truffle for each guest, and the same number of candied orange slices.

I'm not one to turn my nose at a truffle, but these orange slices truly are something special: rather than the more usual sticks of candied orange rind, these are thin, half-moon wedges that still include some of the flesh, so that the distinctive bitter notes of the chewy rind is refreshed by the soft and juicy pulp.

I've experimented in my own kitchen, trying to reproduce these delicious confections, and I am delighted with the result: these orange slices can be served alongside truffles or squares of good bittersweet chocolate, or you could dip them by half in chocolate, orangette-style. They make a lovely gift, too (pack them in layers of parchment paper as they're quite sticky), or you can use them in your baking.

Depending on where you live, it may be the tail end of orange season, so hurry up and make these with the very last of the juicy specimens!

Posted on 13 April 2012 | 3:41 am

Crystalline Iceplant (Ficoïde Glaciale)

Meet one of my favorite greens, the crystalline iceplant, known as Mesembryanthemum cristallinum in Latin and ficoïde glaciale in French.

It's a succulent, leafy plant that originated in South Africa and belongs to the same family as tetragon, another unusual green I'm very fond of.

The leaves of the iceplant are thick and fleshy, with a frosted look, as if they were covered with tiny dew droplets. Depending on the variety, they may be flat and large, about the size of a hand (as shown above), or smaller and sold attached to the stem. Full-size leaves I will slice into short ribbons; small ones I'll keep whole, trimming the thicker parts of the stem.

Posted on 4 April 2012 | 2:30 am

Twelve Hours in Paris, 2012 Edition

Three and a half years ago, I followed my friend Adam's lead and imagined what I would do if I was given just Twelve Hours in Paris.

I still stand by the choices I made then -- except for the Caramella gelato shop, now sadly defunct. But, prompted by reader Patricia's recent comment on that post, I thought it would be fun to revisit that theme now, and dream up another ideal Parisian day, featuring shops and restaurants that have opened in the meantime.

My twelve hours in Paris, 2012 edition, would begin in late morning with a croissant from Gontran Cherrier's bakery: he makes it with feuilletage inversé, the puff pastry that's typically used for millefeuilles (napoleons), and it is extra flaky and extra good. I would also buy a half loaf of his rye and red miso bread, if I didn't mind schlepping it around with me all day.

I would then spend a couple of leisurely hours walking up and around the Montmartre hill, which remains full of secrets even when you've lived in the neighborhood for (gasp!) nine years. I would climb up staircases and down cobblestoned streets, check out the vineyard, peek into courtyards (and tiptoe in for a closer look if the gate happened to be open), and enjoy the village-y quiet and the greenery.

Hopping onto the metro or catching a Vélib', I would go and have lunch at Bob's Kitchen, the vegetarian restaurant where I cooked for a short while last year. I would order the day's veggie stew, the satisfying mix of grains, legumes, roasted vegetables, and crudités I lunched on day in, day out during my stint there. I might also get one of their irresistible maki (garnished with avocado, mango, and daikon radish) to share.

Posted on 22 March 2012 | 3:49 am

Omnivore World Tour in Paris

The Omnivore World Tour -- formerly known as the Omnivore Food Festival -- is an inspiring event during which an audience of pros and enthusiasts watch live demos by up-and-coming chefs.

The French edition will be held in Paris (rather than Deauville*) this year, from Sunday, March 11 to Tuesday, March 13, and I will be hosting the chocolate masterclasses, a series of chocolate-centric demos and discussions with pastry chefs and chocolatiers.

If you'd like to join in the fun, the tickets are available for purchase online. I hope to meet some of you there!

* See my post about the chicken in a bread crust to read about my experience last year.

Posted on 9 March 2012 | 5:43 pm

Shooting photos for my new book

We have just wrapped up the final photo shoot for my new book about vegetables and French cuisine, and as someone who loves to know how things work behind the scenes, I thought I would tell you a bit about what the process has been like.

For my first two books, I shot all the pictures myself, but I felt that being a one-woman-band was not the most relaxed experience of all, so for this new project I wanted to work with a team of pros to produce the photos.

This meant finding a photographer and a stylist for the photos of the finished dishes, and I was hoping to work with Françoise Nicol and Virginie Michelin, because I loved what they had done for Alain Ducasse's Nature book. They were up for it, and my editor approved the choice after looking at their portfolios, so we were in business.

Because produce and seasonality are central to my book, it was important to me that we shoot each chapter in season. Had we shot everything at once, as is often done for practical reasons, we would have had to work with out-of-season fruits and vegetables, and it would have bothered me (a lot) to practice the opposite of what I was advocating. A secondary bonus was a lower food budget, since seasonal produce is generally cheaper.

The one hiccup in this carefully laid plan was that the stylist injured her hand a week before the fall shoot, so we decided to postpone it until she had fully recovered, and shoot fall and winter back-to-back. This was doable without compromise because, in truth, fall market stalls are not that different from winter ones, and it turned out to have a silver lining: instead of enduring the dark of December, we were able to benefit from the longer, brighter days of late February.

Posted on 7 March 2012 | 2:30 am

Multiseed Buckwheat Cookies

One of the challenges of writing a cookbook is that, for the duration of the project, most of one's cooking energies are channeled into the book -- to develop the recipes initially, and then to re-test them as often as needed to refine them.

This means that, for months and months, one's kitchen activities are largely governed by a spreadsheet -- glamorous, no? -- and any tempting recipe that may be found online, in books, or in magazines, must be bookmarked or clipped and set aside for a future day, when one is no longer so engrossed in the bookwriting process.

It is a small sacrifice to make, to be sure, and seeing the collection of original recipes grow makes up for it tenfold, but still: I have reached the point where I am just about done with the recipe testing, and it feels lovely to dip my toes into spontaneous waters again.

I read about today's crisp little numbers, rich with seeds and nut butters, on Clea's blog a month ago, and I couldn't stop thinking about them until I finally allowed myself to bake a batch last week, for no other reason than my needing a break one afternoon and baking cookies seeming the perfect way to make it count.

I altered the recipe slightly: I had run out of eggs so I used ground and soaked flax seeds instead (a classic vegan trick); I doubled the amount of seeds; I added salt; I used part wheat flour and part buckwheat flour; and I forgot to add the olive oil, but found I didn't miss it, though it would likely help the cookies keep longer if you chose to use it (Clea adds 2 tablespoons).

I've found these to be just the thing to scratch the itch for a small treat, with or without a square of bittersweet chocolate, while I read and re-read and edit and tighten up my manuscript, and they are definitely joining these walnut and date cookies in my budding repertoire of easy yet delicious vegan cookies. What are some of your favorites in that category?

Posted on 22 February 2012 | 2:30 am

Chocolate Appreciation Society (Club des Croqueurs de Chocolat)

A little over a year ago, I received the kind of phone call that makes you beam for hours on end, unable (and not really willing, either) to peel the smile off your face: I had just been admitted as a member of the Club des Croqueurs de Chocolat, a famous French chocolate appreciation society I'd been dreaming of joining for years.

Created in the early eighties, when chocolate and chocolatiers didn't get nearly as much attention and respect as they do now, the Club aims to bring together chocolate enthusiasts for tastings, promote the worthiest of artisans, and share its findings with non-members via a website, yearly awards, and a guide to France's best chocolatiers.

The Club has one hundred and fifty members at all times. Some of them are food professionals -- chocolatiers, pastry chefs, restaurateurs, writers, journalists... -- but many are from completely different walks of life -- fitness coaches, historians, nurses, photographers... -- their only common denominator being a long-standing passion for chocolate.

It can take a while to get your foot in the door of this particular Club, as you have to be sponsored by two current members, write a letter of motivation, and then wait for a seat to become available. But I think the format can be adopted by any group of friends or coworkers committed to fueling their chocolate obsession, so I thought I'd tell you about it in a little more detail in case it inspires you to create your own local society.

Posted on 15 February 2012 | 2:30 am

Three Very Good Things: Squash and Coffee Soup, Lo Bak Go, and Honey Lemon Tea

{This is part of a series in which I share three delicious things recently tasted and enjoyed. Please feel free to share your 3VGT list in the comments below, or on your own blog!}

My latest "three very good things" are as follows:

~ Red Kuri Squash Soup with Arabica Whipped Cream

I was just in Valence for a work project, and had the opportunity to dine at one of Anne-Sophie Pic's establishments: not the three-star gastronomic restaurant, but her chic bistro, simply called Le 7 (after the highway that runs alongside it!).

We had a wonderful evening and ate very well, and I was especially taken with my first course, a velvety soup of potimarron (a.k.a. Hokkaido or red kuri squash) served with a scoop of whipped cream spiked with Arabica coffee.

I had heard about another vegetable/coffee pairing that Pic does, partnering beets with Blue Mountain coffee, and this one works just as well, shaking up the sweetness of the winter squash with a measured touch of bitterness. Coffee is an underused ingredient in savory cooking; shouldn't we all do something to change that?

Posted on 9 February 2012 | 2:30 am

DIY Cloth Napkins

I am not very big on what the French call arts de la table (literally, table arts), an umbrella term that covers the choice and placement of dinnerware, silverware, and glassware, as well as flower arrangements and any other table decorations.

I do appreciate a nicely laid table, and admire those hosts who devote time and energy to thinking up seasonal themes and handcrafting little trinkets to prettify each place setting (especially if it's done resourcefully, with three pieces of string and zero budget), but my own style is definitely more minimalist.

Round white plates (from Crate & Barrel, dating back to our California days), simple wine glasses (we've been faithful to the C&S range for years), embossed forks we brought back from Japan, and rosewood-handled knives bought in Laguiole -- all of this we arrange in five minutes on dark woven placemats set on our black wood and frosted glass table, and call it a day.

Well, not quite. There's the question of napkins, too. Unless it's a party and there's very many of us, paper napkins (or worse, sheets of paper towel torn off from the roll) feel all wrong to me: they lack that warm touch that makes you feel at home, they're too light to stay put on your lap, and half the guests end up bunching theirs up beyond recognition, and it looks like the table is strewn with used tissues.

So, no. When I'm a guest somewhere I'm happy with anything I'm given, so appreciative I am to be fed dinner, but in my own house, I insist on cloth napkins.

Posted on 2 February 2012 | 2:30 am

Curried Butternut Squash Pasta

Only recently did it occur to me that winter squash could be welcome in a dish of pasta. Before that, I'd always vaguely considered the two ingredients were too similar and might cancel each other out, the same way I wouldn't make a potato sandwich*, for instance.

But then one day, wanting to fix myself a quick bowl of pasta for lunch and hunting down a leftover piece of butternut squash in the vegetable drawer, a light went up (in my brain, not in the fridge) and revealed an entire, unexplored avenue of pasta options.

This sort of pasta dish definitely belongs to the category of winter preparations that soothe and comfort by the softness of their texture and the sweetness of their flavor profile, so to keep it from being altogether too sweet, I keep things zesty with heat and spice.

Hence the use of curry powder: the one I use is a very flavorful, and surprisingly hot one called Kari Gosse**, a secret mix that was developed by an apothecary from Brittany in the early nineteenth century, when ships from the Far East still docked in local ports to unload their treasured spices. Naturally, you should use whichever curry powder you like, but if it doesn't pack a chili pepper punch, I recommend you complement its action with cayenne pepper or a good dash of hot sauce at the end.

As for the pasta, I usually get spelt fusilli at the organic store, but lately (and in the picture above), I've been using local pasta from ICI: L'Epicerie locavore, which are manufactured in Bagnolet, just outside of Paris, with organic flour from Seine-et-Marne. I'm especially fond of their tiny pasta (which they label as risi but I believe are in fact midolline, as they're teardrop- rather than rice-shaped) toasted in the style of fregola sarda.

* Though I know some people who are fond of sandwiches garnished with crushed potato chips and mayonnaise, but that's another story.

** It is available from a few pharmacies and grocery stores in and around Lorient in Brittany, and from the inimitable Epicerie de Bruno in Paris.

Posted on 25 January 2012 | 2:30 am

About my new book

In my Best of 2011 post earlier this month, I hinted at the new book I'm working on, and after receiving several kind requests for details, I thought I'd tell you a little more about the project.

The general idea of the book is to talk about the love affair between French cuisine and vegetables.

It is admittedly a challenge to dine out as a vegetarian in France, where meat and fish are treated as the main character of any special-occasion dish, yet the French culinary repertoire is rife with delicious ideas on how to cook vegetables.

It seems to me that when cooks try to shift their habits to use fewer animal products, French cuisine is not the one they turn to spontaneously, so it is a source of inspiration that is vastly untapped.

Over the past few years, as has no doubt been apparent on C&Z, Maxence and I have transitioned to a more and more plant-based way of eating -- for reasons of ethics, environmental concern, and natural inclination -- so I've had plenty of opportunities to explore unusual and exciting ways to use up my weekly selection of seasonal vegetables.

It is the best of those colorful, seasonal dishes that I want to share in this new book. Some are personal creations, others are drawn from my research into lesser-known regional cuisines. All are simple and flavorsome, so you can make the most of the time you spend in the kitchen.

Posted on 18 January 2012 | 2:30 am

Beet Hummus

Who says winter food has to be colorless and drab?

I first put together this beet hummus just before the holidays, on a day we'd been invited to dinner by one of my dearest friends (I've told you about her before), who was days away from delivering her first child.

When I offered to contribute to the dinner, I was entrusted with the mission of bringing something to nibble on for the apéro, to go with our pre-dinner drinks.

I find that dips are the most travel-ready of all appetizer options, and I remembered that Clea's lunchbox book Mes p'tites gamelles had a recipe for beet hummus I'd earmarked to try a long time ago.

In her version, she adds a small, cooked beet to a classic chickpea hummus. I decided instead to skip the chickpeas altogether and use beets only, essentially preparing a puréed beet dip flavored with the signature ingredients of hummus: sesame paste, garlic, olive oil, lemon juice, cumin, and salt.

Each of these is an ideal flavor partner to the beet, so I wasn't surprised that their teamwork produced such a pleasing dip: zesty, well-balanced, not too sweet.

To go with it, I brought along a tub of baguette slices cut from a day-old loaf, which I'd rubbed with garlic olive oil and toasted in the oven, and we munched away happily while discussing their exciting family prospects.

In France, one can usually find vacuum-packed cooked beets in the produce aisle -- I buy the Bonneterre brand at the organic store -- and since they have a shelf life of a couple of months, you can keep a package on hand to whip up beet hummus in a pinch. If this isn't a convenience item where you live, perhaps you can get into the habit of steaming, boiling, or roasting a few more than you need when you're cooking beets; you can then stash those away in the freezer for future use.

Posted on 12 January 2012 | 3:49 am