Indian Spiced Eggplant with Peas

Yesterday was official "back to school day" or la rentrée here in France. I've blogged about this phenomenon before. For the past week or so people have been little by little coming back from August vacations and getting back to work routine. Businesses have been opening again, neighborhoods have been filling back up with Parisians and people have been getting together with friends they missed over the summer. Although I hit the ground running with last week's 14-hour-days full of theater rehearsals, this week marks a return to the usual routine: some babysitting, teaching a few theater classes and continuing rehearsals for this year's plays.

It's also back to making delicious food from whatever the CSA throws our way week to week. Recently, I got a bunch of eggplants, both the classic purple kind and the white kind - I can only assume this is how the veggie got its name because they actually do resemble eggs. I'm not a big fan of eggplant and neither is D. (Send your delicious recipes my way, please.) My usual response when I don't like a vegetable is to put Indian spices on it. I mean, I'll eat pretty much anything once you add cumin, turmeric and eggplant is no exception. I discovered this recipe four or five years ago on the blog Orangette and it's been my go-to eggplant recipe ever since! And to top it off, it has peas in it and I LOVE peas.

(makes about 4 servings)

2 large eggplants (or 3-4 small)
2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 tsp. cumin seeds or ground cumin
1 medium yellow onion, finely chopped
1 small jalapeño, seeded (or not depending on how spicy you want it) and finely chopped
3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 ½ Tbsp. minced fresh ginger
¼ tsp. cayenne pepper
4 or 5 curry leaves (optional)
3 medium tomatoes, finely chopped (out of season, canned tomatoes work too)
½ tsp. paprika
¼ tsp. turmeric
1 cup frozen peas
 ¾ cup chopped cilantro (I leave this out and sometimes garnish w/ chopped scallions at the end, but if you like cilantro, go for it)
1/3 - ½ cup whole-milk plain yogurt (if you're feeling fancy, you can also use cream or coconut milk. I've tried both and they're delicious variations)
Salt, to taste
Garam masala, for serving

Preheat the oven to 500° F (250ºC). Put the eggplants on in a baking dish, and pierce them all over with a fork or knife. Bake for about 1 hour, or until the skins are blackened and the eggplant is soft when pressed. Set aside to cool slightly. Then slice open lengthwise, scrape the flesh from the skin and mash coarsely. (You can do this part a day or two ahead and refrigerate it.)

Heat the oil over medium-high heat in a large frying pan. Add the cumin seeds (or ground cumin) and cook until they begin to sizzle and pop, about 10 seconds. Add the onion, and cook, stirring occasionally, until it is soft and beginning to brown, about 5-10 minutes. Add the jalapeño, garlic, ginger, cayenne and curry leaves (if using) and cook, stirring constantly, for 2 minutes. Add the tomatoes and cook until the liquid has evaporated, about 10 minutes. Add the paprika and turmeric, and cook, stirring, for another 2-3 minutes. Add the eggplant and peas and cook over low heat for 10 minutes. Reduce the heat to low, and stir in the cilantro (if using), yogurt (or cream or coconut milk), and salt.

Serve sprinkled with garam masala.

Roast Pork with Rhubarb

 

Well it's once again the season for rhubarb to start appearing in the markets and across the blogosphere. I can't say I mind. I love the tartness that rhubarb adds to sweet recipes like these Orange-Rhubarb Scones, or to crumbles and pies with sweeter fruits that are also starting to come into season. I have to confess, that, although the days of dowries have long past in France, my wedding agreements with D. may have included a certain number of Strawberry-Rhubarb Pies to be distributed throughout the course of our lives together (meticulously calculated with an equation involving number of pies per season, average life span and other variables).

However, although my CSA seems to think that rhubarb should count as my weekly fruit, I believe rhubarb is more correctly considered a vegetable and like most vegetables, it shines when roasted. To be fair, I did not come up with this idea, but when it comes to sailing off the edge of the culinary map, there's no one I trust more to navigate than Jaime Oliver (see: my slow but steady conversion to his recipes like Wild Mushroom Soup and this Seriously Good Grilled Zucchini Salad). This recipe is surprising and absolutely delicious. Like most of Oliver's recipes, it's not hard to make and whole is greater than the sum of the parts.

(serves 4)


One bunch of fresh sage (I had to go to the three different places to get this, but I think fresh sage is so definitely worth it.)
1 clove garlic, peeled
olive oil
2 pork fillets, trimmed
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
10 slices Parma ham or prosciutto (I used speck)
7-12 sticks of rhubarb (enough to blanket the bottom of your baking dish)

Crush a good handful of fresh sage in a pestle and mortar. Crush in the garlic and then add 5 tablespoons of olive oil. Rub this mixture all over the pork fillets.  Let marinate for an hour (if you have the time).  Preheat the oven to 425ºF / 220ºC.  Lightly season the pork with salt and pepper, and wrap 5 slices of ham/prosciutto around each fillet.  Cut the rhubarb into finger-sized pieces and place in an appropriately sized roasting tray.  Lay the pork on top of the rhubarb. (You can rub the rest of the marinade into the ham at this point if you like). Sprinkle leftover sage leaves over the dish and drizzle with olive oil.  Get a piece of wax paper, wet it and scrunch it up, lay it over the meat and tuck it in around the sides.

Cook in the preheated oven for 15 mins, remove the paper and cook for another 15 mins.  Remove from the oven and allow to rest for 5 mins.  Slice the meat at an angle in thick slices and serve with juice over the roasted rhubarb. I served this with baked potatoes drizzled with sage butter. Oh, so yum!

Split Pea Soup with Cumin Seeds

The common cold: exciting side effect of temperatures changes, bane of modern medicine, butt of this telling joke...

A man went to see his doctor because he was suffering from a miserable cold. His doctor prescribed some pills, but they didn't help. On his next visit the doctor gave him a shot, but that didn't do any good. On his third visit the doctor told the man to go home and take a hot bath. As soon as he was finished bathing he was to throw open all the windows and stands in the draft. "But doc," protested the patient, "if I do that, I'll get pneumonia." "I know," said his physician. "I can cure pneumonia."

Luckily my doctor prescribed rest and supplements for my immune system rather than pneumonia, so I immediately came home and made chicken soup. I made the stock directly with a whole chicken so the meat would get falling-off-the-bone-tender, then made the soup with onions, carrots, celery, and lots of garlic, parsley and some fresh ginger added near the end for the maximum in vitamin strength. I definitely recommend it if you're under the weather (even better if you can get someone else to make it for you)!

Only in France would a baker sign his bread like a Picasso!

I've been trying a new kind of soup pretty much every week these days. Latest in this delicious craze has been Heidi's amazing Vegetarian Split Pea Soup. This is one of those recipes that's insanely cheap, insanely easy to make and insanely delicious. (Check out 101 Cookbooks in general for more of those kinds of recipes. Heidi's good at them!) I added cumin seeds to this soup and I think the flavor worked well.

serves 2-3 people

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
a pinch of sea salt
a pinch of cumin seeds
1 cup dried split peas
3 1/2 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1-2 Tbsp fresh lemon juice (you can reserve the zest for garnish if you love lemon)
a few pinches of paprika
more olive oil to drizzle

Heat olive oil in a pot over med-high heat. Stir in onions and salt and cook a couple minutes, until the onions are soft but not brown. Add the split peas and stock. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer until the peas are cooked through but not mushy (about 20 minutes).

Using a cup measure, put about 1/2 cup of the soup aside. Puree the rest of the soup. Stir the reserved soup back into the puree. This technique gives the soup a little bit of texture. Stir in the lemon juice and season to taste.

Serve in bowls drizzled with olive oil and topped with paprika and a bit of lemon zest.

Bayonne Ham Sandwich with Roquefort and Apple

A cold snap here has left Parisians shivering in their fashionable coats and reaching for their leather gloves. Yesterday the metro was slowed because of ice and people are generally at a lost as to how to keep warm. I am in my winter happy place. Ok, so it's in the low 20s and windy, but it's finally sunny! No rain boots, no more mid-season jacket. I finally have on my winter coat and the cute hat I bought in Bryant Park when I was in NYC over Christmas. When I wake up, the sun is rising and sending all sorts of beautiful colors across the sky. I'm onstage until the end of February and rehearsing two other shows. I play soccer every afternoon with kids I babysit for fun and exercise. Right now, life is good.


I've been trying to make all of my meals at home these days, even when they need to be simple and quick. When I absolutely have to eat on the run, I bring something with me. I gave up on buying sandwiches that are more expensive and not nearly as good as mine, and started having fun with all sorts of variations. This is one of my recent favorites.

Bayonne Ham Sandwich with Roquefort and Apple

French bread
1 tsp Dijon mustard
Two slices Bayonne ham or prosciutto
2 Tbsp Roquefort (or other blue) cheese
4 thin slices of apple (I used golden delicious)
fresh ground pepper

I know you all know how to make a sandwich, but just for the sake of being thorough...
Spread the mustard on the bread. Lay on the ham/prosciutto, Roquefort and apple slices. Grind pepper to taste. Close sandwich and eat!

Thanksgiving and Fennel Parmesan Salad

Thanksgiving, like many holidays, is a mixed bag of emotions. Every year my huge extended family gets together in New York to celebrate and marvel at how much the little ones have grown and how many new little ones are under foot and who the heck do they all belong to anyway?? As children, this was one of the best moments of the year. Ok, we were dressed to the nines, but when the parents were busy talking, my sisters and cousins and I slipped off those two-tight new dress shoes and ran up the back stairs in stocking feet to play. Or else, we snuck into the coat room, with all its long black coats and fancy fur coats, and slipped pieces of paper, candy or other found treasures into the pockets.


In France, there's no such holiday, no time off, and so I miss all the hullabaloo of a the big family get-together. Of course, there are upsides: I don't have to worry about what to wear, or be polite to people who's faces are vaguely familiar (they look like me?) but whose names I can't for the life of me remember, and no one asks me who my grandfather is and spends twenty minutes trying to figure out how we're related.

But I also really miss my family. Now that we've grown up and are all in different places, it's hard to get to see everyone and Thanksgiving is usually when everyone manages to come together. I miss hearing the latest cousin gossip, the smell of New York at this time of year, the Broadway shows, the lights as the holiday season starts, the shop windows, and the upper class Jewish ladies in pearls.


However, even with that nostalgia, I have to admit I'm pretty lucky because here in Paris I get to have Thanksgiving with the extremely talented Camille. The food is much better than it ever was in my childhood, and I get to cook some of it! There's definitely something very Thanksgiving-y about spending the day cooking up yummy things to eat in the evening in very good company!

Of course, the traditional turkey and mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce, pecan pie and all that will be on the table. But it's nice to have some vegetables and I'd been meaning to test this Fennel Parmesan Salad for quite some time. I never know what to do with fennel from my CSA, but after a taste-run of this recipe, I won't hesitate to make this absolutely delicious salad again. A perfect flavor combination! It comes from the wonderful blog 30 Minute Dinner Party, which you should definitely check out if you don't already read it!


2 bulbs fennel
100g (about 3/4 cup) fresh Parmesan, shaved into thin slices
2 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
2 tsp apple cider vinegar
juice of 1 lime
sea salt
fresh ground pepper

Cut the leaves off the fennel and wash well. Peel off the leaves and slice thinly. (When you get down to the core, the leaves won't peel well but just slice the core into thin slices as well.) Put in a salad bowl with the Parmesan. In a small bowl mix together the olive oil, vinegar, lime, and salt and pepper to taste. Pour the sauce over the salad and serve!

Fall in Paris: a Study in Yellow and Brown (with Roast Chicken and Squash)

At a party a couple weeks ago, our hosts, who had invited a group of people who didn't all know each other, made us play a getting-to-know-you game, which involved writing answers to questions like "If you were a planet (adjective, famous person, book, etc), which one would you be?" A person's answers were read out anonymously and everyone had to guess who it was. To the question "If you were a season, which one would you be?" I was the only person who answered "autumn". When the host read it out, he said "oooh, this person is depressed!" Wide of the mark. I'm not depressed. Where I come from, autumn is a season of abundance, of bright colors, of beautiful light and crisp air.


But having lived in Paris for five years now, I can see why the French find fall depressing. The days get short so quickly, and gray and rainy. Even on the few sunny days, the fall colors are somewhat limited: yellow and brown pretty much cover it. For the past couple of years, I've tried to take myself out of my apartment to enjoy what fall has to offer here.


Montmartre with its colorful climbing vines is actually one of the prettiest places around. Last year at the jardins de Luxembourg, my sister and I appreciated the yellow and brown there, followed by warming homemade Chai. This year, I headed down the the Canal St. Martin to see the yellows reflected in the water.


As the weather gets colder and the leaves (whatever their colors) fall off the trees for the winter, it's important to have warming food to come home to. This roast chicken with squash is simple to make and perfect for the season. You can make it with chicken breasts or thighs or a whole chicken. Whatever fits your tastes and budget. And to top it all off, it matches the colors of fall in Paris - which are not depressing at all if you only you look at them the right way.


(serves 4)
1 whole chicken (or 4 chicken breasts, or 4 chicken thighs)
1 squash (i used a potimarron, but butternut squash or pumpkin would work well too)
1/2 cup olive oil
1 Tbsp dried sage (or 2 Tbsps fresh)
large pinch of sea salt
punch of black pepper
pinch of cayenne pepper
2 Tbsp brown sugar


Preheat the oven to 375ºF/190ºC.

Mix together the olive oil with the sage, salt, pepper and cayenne. Rub this mixture into the chicken on all sides and place chicken in the center of a baking pan. Add the brown sugar to the remaining oil mixture.

Peel and cut the squash into cubes. (Ok, this is the evil part of the recipe. Squash is hard to cut and peel. I suggest cutting it in half, scooping out the seeds - you can save them and roast them - putting the squash half cut side down so it is stable and using a sharp knife to peel it, cutting down towards the cutting board so as not to slice your fingers. Then cut it into cubes.) Place the squash around the chicken in the baking pan and drizzle the rest of the olive oil mixture evenly on top of it.

Bake for about 1 hour (or until the chicken is cooked), mixing the squash once or twice to keep it coated with the juices. Serve hot and enjoy!

Jamie Oliver and some Seriously Good Grilled Zucchini Salad

I'm going to be honest and I say I was against Jamie Oliver at the start. It's like when the new girl shows up in school and she's popular and pretty and gets good grades AND plays sports, and on top of that she's nice and has an adorable British accent and everyone loves her. You just have to dislike her on principle. Until she wins you over with her perfect niceness too. Okay, this is not exactly like that. Jamie Oliver is not a girl. He's not new on the scene. And he didn't win me over with his niceness. But you get the idea.


For our wedding, one of the families I babysit for, gave us this book full of tantalizing recipes. Everything looked so good that at first it just served to aggravate my jealous dislike, so what changed my mind? Zucchini. Zucchini did it. Every fall, I scramble to find ways to use up zucchini, and while I've certainly found some good ones, like this Zucchini-Feta Tart or this Garam-Masala Salmon with Zucchini, anyone who can get me to actually ENJOY zucchini after the insane amounts of it my CSA foists on me in the fall, is definitely worth a second chance. Besides, I read my classics and I know that it's not good to hold on to prejudice forever. If Lizzy did, where would she and Mr. Darcy be? Not nearly as happy or as well-loved by generations of readers that's where. Not that I'm comparing Jamie Oliver to Mr. Darcy or anything. Oh dear, this is getting out of hand.

I guess what I'm saying is, this salad is delicious. Absolutely delicious. Worth it if you like zucchini. Worth it if you're totally sick of zucchini. Worth it if you want to be in vogue and also if you'd do anything to avoid such a fate. You can make this a bunch of different ways with different accompaniments. This is one version I made and loved.


3-4 zucchinis (depending on the size)
1/4-1/2 lemon
1/4 cup olive oil
1 small garlic clove
1 bunch mint
1 cup creamy goat cheese (I used Petit Billy)
sea salt, pepper

Slice the zucchini as thin as possible. Cook the slices on a hot grill or barbecue. (I don't have one so I do this in my oven on the boiler setting, but as a result they come out softer and less crunchy I think than Jamie intended. Still good though.) In the meantime, roughly chop the mint and set aside. Make up a sauce by squeezing the lemon to taste into the olive oil. Press the clove of garlic in a garlic press and add to sauce. When the zucchini starts to brown, serve onto plates. Put a dollop of goat cheese in the middle of each serving. Liberally, sprinkle with mint, and spoon the sauce over. Salt and pepper to taste and serve warm.

The Search for Perfect Gazpacho / A la recherche d'un gaspacho parfait

Nothing is perfect. People always say that, and then they go ahead and demand perfection anyway. What's up with that? I say you do your best with the tools you've got and if that's not good enough then you need to review your expectations.

La perfection n'existe pas. C'est quelque chose que l'on entend souvent, mais cela n'empêche pas nos amis, nos employeurs, nos fans et nos critiques d'attendre la perfection. Moi je dis, on fait de notre mieux avec les outils à notre disposition et, si cela n'est pas assez, il faut peut-être modifier ses attentes.


Usually cooking is a stress reliever for me, but even in the kitchen, I have to watch out for the perfectionism monster. It's the reason I haven't ever posted a recipe for classic gazpacho. I did post a recipe for green gazpacho a while ago, which is really quite yummy (a bit like guacamole in a soup), but I never dared post a recipe for red gazpacho, thinking, well, it's not perfect. I'm sure someone has a better one. Well, that may be, but I've had a serious overflow of organic tomatoes in my CSA and I've been making this recipe every couple of days for the past week and you know what? It's delicious! Do any of you have recipes you hold off posting because they're not "good enough"?

D'habitude cuisiner est une activité qui me détend, mais même dans la cuisine, il faut que je fasse attention au monstre du perfectionisme. C'est à cause de lui que je n'ai jamais posté ma recette de gaspacho rouge. J'ai partagé ma recette de gaspacho vert (un peu comme un gaucamole version soupe), mais je n'osais pas poster une gaspacho classique en me disant qu'il y avait forcément quelqu'un avec une meilleure recette que moi. C'est sûrement vrai, mais avec l'explosion de tomates dans mon panier bio la semaine dernière, j'ai fait trois fois cette recette et je dois avouer que c'est quand même délicieux. Et vous ? Avez-vous des recettes que vous n'osez pas poster en vous disant qu'elles ne sont pas parfaites ?

Demain, je pars cinq semaines faire la traversée des Etats-Unis en voiture. Je ne vais probablement pas beaucoup cuisiner, mais suivez quand même et vous verrez ce que je mange en route et où !

Tomorrow, I'm off for five weeks of roadtripping it in the US! I probably won't be cooking much, but keep following because I plan to share with you all what I eat and where during my travels!


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Red Gazpacho / Gaspacho Rouge
(Serves 4)

600g tomatoes (about 6) / 600g de tomates (environ 6)
1 cucumber (or 2 small cucumbers)/1 concombre (ou 2 petits concombres)
1 yellow pepper / 1 poivron jaune
1 small white onion / 1 petit oignon blanc
1 clove garlic / 1 gousse d'ail
2 slices bread / 2 tranches de pain de mie

4 Tbsp olive oil / 4 c à s d'huile d'olive
3 Tbsp Xeres vinegar / 3 c à s de vinaigre de Xérès

salt / sel
pepper / poivre
dash of Tabasco / quelques gouttes de sauce Tabasco


Wash the tomatoes, cut into quarters and seed. Peel and seed the cucumber and yellow pepper and cut into large pieces (you just need them to fit into the blender). Peel the onion and garlic and cut into quarters. Put tomatoes, cucumber, pepper, onion and garlic into a blender or cuisinart and mix.

Add the slice of bread cut into pieces. Let soak in a few minutes. Pour in the oil and vinegar and blend until smooth. Cover and refrigerate at least 1 hour. Salt, pepper and add Tabasco (or not) to taste. Serve chilled.

Laver les tomates, couper en quartiers en épépiner. Peler et épépiner le concombre et poivron et couper en dès. Peler l'oignon et l'ail et couper les en quartiers. Mettre tomates, concombre, poivron, oignon et ail dans un mixeur et mélanger.

Ajouter le pain émietté et laisser imbiber quelques minutes. Verser l'huile et le vinaigre et mixer. Couvrir et garder au frais au moins 1 heure. Saler, poivrer et ajouter quelques gouttes de Tabasco (ou pas) à votre goût. Servir frais.

Olive Oil and Parmesan Mashed Potatoes with Parma Ham

Early in the week I was going through one of those sick-of-the-world crisis, you know, where you see the bad side of everything and the good hardly seems to balance it out, much less triumph. The weight of thousands of years of oppression seemed to be dragging me down and the black cloud of deep-rooted prejudice was obscuring my usual optimism. In the depths of the social justice doldrums, a sudden ray of light burst through and that ray of light said, "I want to make cookies!" All right, all right, it's no Book of Revelations but still... I tried to reason it away - I'm on a diet! - but it was a very insistent insight. "Fine, fine," I grumbled, "cookies."

And in midst of vigorously creaming together the butter and the sugar - the old-fashioned way, no machines - to the rhythm some of favorite cooking music, the black clouds started to slink away. By the time the smell of cookies was wafting through the apartment, I was full-out dancing in the living room and the world seemed brighter. I may not be able to eradicate prejudice or stupidity but, dammit, I can make cookies and that's gotta count for something.


Sometimes it's important to get back to basics: the recipes you've known all your life, the ones your mother made, the ones you discovered when you first started cooking, the ones that are too easy for "real chefs", or made with silly ingredients, the ones that make you feel good, that have too much butter and more than one kind of sugar, because maybe those are the recipes that change the world - or at least YOUR world - and that's about all you can hope to change anyway.

Long philosophical digressions aside, let's get to the recipe. It comes from a book the mom of one of the girls I babysit for gave to me called De recettes régressives pour gourmets notstalgiques (Regressive Recipes for Nostalgic Gourmets) - the only picture I found was of a later edition (above) but that's the idea. It revisits exactly the kind of foods I'm talking about - the fun foods you ate as a kid - and playfully adapts them for adult taste buds. I've already tried a couple of the recipes and have marked a bunch more. They're simple and sophisticated, like these Olive Oil and Parmesan Mashed Potatoes with Parma Ham.

for 4 people

1kg (2.2 lbs) potatoes
20 leaves basil (optional)
1/2 cup fresh grated Parmesan cheese
8 slices Parma ham (or Bayonne, or other similar)
6-8 Tbsp olive oil
1 tsp salt

Peel potatoes and cut into chunks. Cook in salted boiling water for 15-20 minutes, until soft. Drain water, put potatoes back in the pot with the olive oil and mash (with a potato masher or fork). Mince all but 4 basil leaves (if using) and add to the puree along with the Parmesan cheese. Reheat the puree on low heat mixing in the ingredients.

Lay two slices of ham on each plate, ladle the puree on top and fold up the sides of the ham. Garnish with the left-over basil leaves and Parmesan cheese. Serve immediately and enjoy!

Invite A Blogger to Your Table - Poor Man's Soup

I know I've said it before, but community is one of my favorite things about having a cooking blog and events like Val's Invite a Blogger to Your Table are what it's all about. The idea is to invite another blogger, someone you've been following for years, or someone you don't know (yet!) to make a recipe with you (virtually or in person) and both blog about it on the same day. The rules are simple:

1) Choose a dish to prepare and invite one blogger to create that dish with you. You can source your recipe from a cookbook, magazine, blog or any other source. Your dish can be sweet or savory; easy or complicated.
2) Decide upon a date that you can both mutually post your recipe within a 4 week time frame.
3) Link back to More Than Burnt Toast somewhere in your post.
4) Please feel free to use the Avatar/Badge above "Invite a Blogger to Your Table".
5) Once you have made your dish with your blogging friend or friends and posted it, you can choose to STOP or CONTINUE on and invite another blogger to your table to make something DIFFERENT on a mutually agreeable date within the next 4 week time frame.
6) If you would like to, please e-mail Val at bloggerstable(AT)gmail(DOT)com for no other reason than to let her know you have participated. She would love to see what you have accomplished.
7) Cut and paste these instructions into your post and contact a friend. Let magic happen and let's get cooking!!!


When Giz from Equal Opportunity Kitchen invited me to make this old country recipe with her - one that her mom recently gave her (thanks Baba!) - I was delighted. There's something so seductive about simple recipes. There seems to be a higher degree of magic involved. When you look at some recipe lists with their exotic spices and fresh herbs and the like, you think "well of course that's going to be good!" But the bare culinary truth is that sometimes with 5 ingredients or less you can make the magic happen.

I also like the idea of a country recipe that's actually perfect for the season. Back in the days before fruits and vegetables were available year round in supermarkets, I think by the end of the winter, the only vegetables left in places like here were those that had survived in root cellars, like potatoes. It's not like potatoes never go bad, but if you keep them cool dry, it takes a very long time! Hence the ubiquitous potato (and other root vegetables) in my winter CSA. I used up the last few that were starting to sprout in this recipe and now I'm looking forward to spring veggies, like the spinach I got last week!

So if you're looking to use up the last potatoes, or combat the spring sniffles, I highly recommend this recipe!

Burnt Soup or Poor Man's Soup

1 medium onion, diced
2 tbsp oil (I used olive)
2 tbsp all-purpose flour
5-6 cups water, boiled
4-5 medium potatoes diced
salt and pepper to taste

1. Fry onion in oil until it's brown but not burned
2. Add flour and make a roux
3. Add water, stir to incorporate the flour and add the potatoes
4. Cook over medium heat until potatoes get soft
5. Add salt and pepper to taste

I executed this recipe exactly as written (you other foodies will recognize the self-control that takes) because I wanted to taste it the way it's written. This simple soup is surprisingly delicious. In the end, I added 2 large garlic cloves, minced and half a bunch of parsley, chopped, for the flavor and the immune system booster. I cooked it another 10 minutes with those ingredients and served with whole grain brain.

Even D. who "doesn't like soup", said "mmmm, your potatoes with sauce are delicious!"
Now head on over and check out Giz's version!

Squash-Leek Soup with Coconut Milk and How to Survive Spring

Some people call the season that starts on March 20th Spring, but I prefer to call it "be prepared for anything." We are now in the transition space, the exciting first warm days space, the back to cold snaps space, the first few flowers space and the everybody gets a cold space.

How is it that we blog all winter long (and thank goodness we do) about how to survive the cold and the dreariness, but nobody blogs about how to survive the coming of spring?


I would suggest that the way to do so it is two-fold:

1. Go outside and enjoy the flowers - or early bird songs, or first snow melts, or the visibly longer days. Get some sun on your face. Take some pictures. Sit in the park and watch the kids play (can you believe people pay me to do that? I love it.). Look for the little changes every day.


And...

2. Have some good soup on hand. The nights are still cold. April showers are on their way, and if you come down with a cold (as I did this week), you'll be happy to have some homemade soup waiting to be heated up and make you feel better.

Happy spring everybody!!



1 Tbsp ghee (or butter)
1 onion
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tsp curry powder
1 small piece of fresh ginger, minced
1 pinch cayenne
1 winter squash
chicken or vegetable stock
1 cup coconut milk

Melt the ghee in a large pot on low heat and add the onions and leeks. Leave to caramelize slowly. In the meantime, peel the squash and chop into cubes. Turn up the stove to medium heat and add the garlic and spices. Cook 1 or 2 minutes, stirring. Add the squash and enough broth to just cover it. Add 1/2 cup of coconut milk. Bring to boil, cover and simmer until the squash is tender (about 20 minutes). Add the rest of the coconut milk and puree the soup (in batches in a mixer, or with an immersion blender). Serve hot.

Winter at the Sacre Coeur and Endive, Blue Cheese, Pomegranate Salad

Everyone I know in Paris is tired right now, the have-to-drag-oneself-out-of-bed-in-the-morning kind of tired. Usually this is a February attitude, but it seems to have come a bit early this year. I blame this sort of lagging gloom on the lack of sunlight. A few bright rays on our faces would do all of us a world of good. It's no coincidence that my doctor gives everyone a prescription for vitamin D in the winter, no matter what you go see her for.


But besides vitamin D, what to do for the gray-sky doldrums? The best cure I know for dreariness is to go on a search for beauty. (Tea over at Tea and Cookies puts this into practice regularly in her series Stalking Wonder.) So, I decided if it was going to be gray all winter, then I had better start looking for the beauty in gray skies.


As Dorothy Gale from Kansas says, "if I ever go looking for my heart's desire, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with." So my camera and I set out to find beauty in our own backyard (so to speak - I don't have a back yard, so I'm counting Montmartre).


The Sacre Coeur is probably my favorite monument in Paris. I go by it pretty much every day, and every day it seems different. I swear it changes with the weather. When it's sunny and the sky is blue, it seems to shine out white and proud. These days, it's as sober as the sky, imposing, dark and full of secrets.


I came up the back way and strolled in the park behind the church, which in the summer is full of old people sitting in the shade of the wisteria, young people tanning on the grass, and children playing in the fountain. Today it was deserted. There's something very restful about an empty park, and its sleeping trees. I even found a tiny bit of winter color.


When I was done soaking that in, I followed the sound of a horse drawn carriage to the front of the Sacre Coeur. Really, I'm not kidding. I thought I was hearing things, and when I caught up with it and found it was being driven by a man dressed in bear suit, I thought I was seeing things. I'm sorry I didn't get a picture. The front of the Sacre Coeur is always overrun with tourists, no matter what the season and it was a bit of a shock after the emptiness of the back streets, but there is an amazing view of Paris. Gray, winter-y Paris.


Of course, the other way to combat the winter doldrums is to eat colorful food. You can even pretend its summer and have festive salads, which is what I did when I got home. This endive-pomegranate-blue cheese salad was just perfect for a mood-lifter. I think pomegranate seeds are just perfect for winter salads, not only for their red color and bursting sweet taste, but also because you can pretend you're Persephone thanks to whose love of pomegranate seeds (according to the ancient Greeks), we got into all this winter trouble in the first place!


Ingredients (approx per person):

1 large or 2 small endives
2 Tbsp pomegranate seeds
1 Tbsp blue cheese
2 strips of bacon, fried until crispy (you can leave this out if you're vegetarian, but if you're not, it adds a nice smoky flavor that I highly recommend)
your favorite vinaigrette

Mix it all together in the proportions you like best and enjoy while contemplating the beauty of gray!

November in Paris and Thanksgiving Cheer

Big happy plate of Thanksgiving leftovers.

I have long thought that France had more federal holidays than the US. It seems the French are always having days off, especially in the spring. In May it feels like every week there's a bank holiday. (Actually, this is not just an impression, there are French federal holidays on May 1, May 8, and this year May 13 and May 24.) However, contrary to what I thought, France only has one more holiday per year than the US. The major difference is that half the French holidays are Catholic ones (and you can bring that up next time one of your French friends mentions the proliferation of the phrase "God bless America" and how secular France is). In case you're curious (I know I was), the bank holidays in France are:

New Year's Day, Easter Monday, Labor Day (not the same day as the US, but the same idea), V Day (aka "the allies beat the Nazis day"), Ascension Thursday, Pentecost, Bastille Day, Assumption Day (yes, the day the Virgin Mary rose into heaven), All Saints Day, Armistice, and Christmas

For you non-Americans, US National holidays are:

New Year's, Martin Luther King Day, President's Day, Memorial Day, Independence Day (aka July 4), Labor Day, Columbus Day, Veterans' Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas.

The epitome of Paris in November.

Besides the religious quality of French national holidays, the other main difference is the time of year. France has the most holidays in the spring, which is nice because it's starting to warm up and everyone wants to play hooky anyway and lie around in the sun. The US has the most holidays in the fall and winter, which is even nicer, perhaps, because it's a time of year when it gets dark early and everything is black and white and gray, and everyone needs a little cheer.


That is what I love about Thanksgiving. Less pressure than Christmas because there are no presents to buy, Thanksgiving is just about sharing a good meal with family and/or friends. When the sky is low and drab as it has been for weeks here in Paris, that is exactly what I need! This year, we had Thanksgiving with Nick and Camille and a friend of theirs. It was a no stress, low key event (we all had to work thurs. and fri.) but like all meals with foodies, it was very yummy!

A ray of sun, quick, take a picture!

I made a version of this blue cheese potatoes au gratin that included the celeriac I got in my CSA and a chocolate pecan pie (basically my original recipe, but with less corn syrup and chopped chocolate added). We combined our CSA spinach into creamed spinach. Camille made her signature wild mushroom bread pudding, sweet potato/yam purée and delicious gravy, and Nick made turkey roast. We topped it all off with some good wine for a perfect November-blues-beating evening!