The French Market Cookbook (9 page)

4. Fold it into the yogurt with a spatula, working in a circular, up-and-down motion to avoid deflating the cream.

5. Pour into the prepared sieve, cover with a plate, and place in the refrigerator to drain for 6 hours or overnight. (Alternatively, scoop the cream mixture into individual pieces of cheesecloth, bundle them up, tie with a string, and leave to drain in the colander.)

6. Scoop the fontainebleau into bowls (or serve in the individual cheesecloth bundles for guests to unwrap) and top with raspberries and lemon verbena syrup (if using). Eat leftovers within a day or two.

LEMON VERBENA SYRUP

Sirop de verveine citronnelle

MAKES 1⅓ CUPS / 320 ML

Lemon verbena is an unusual herb that produces spearhead-shaped leaves with a sweet, intoxicating scent of lime and lemongrass. They make a sensational sorbet and you can add them to fruit salads and jams, or muddle them into your summer cocktails. Look for it at farmers’ markets or grow your own. Grind the fresh leaves with sugar to make a lemon verbena sugar that will keep for a long time, or let the leaves dry naturally and put away to make herbal tea in the winter, or steep them into this flavored syrup.

I use this to sweeten the fontainebleau, or pour it over yogurt, crêpes, pound cakes, or toasted slices of brioche. The same technique may be applied to any other herb you have on hand.

¾ cup / 150 g sugar

25 fresh lemon verbena leaves, chopped, or dried leaves

1. In a small saucepan, combine the sugar with 1 cup / 240 ml cold water. Bring to a boil, stirring until the sugar is dissolved, and remove from the heat. Add the lemon verbena, cover, and steep for 1 hour.

2. Filter through a sieve and pour into a clean jar. Refrigerate until ready to use. It will keep for at least 1 month.

MELON AND GINGER SOUP

Soupe de melon au gingembre

SERVES 4

Choosing a melon is something of an art form. At good produce stalls in France, the sales attendant will ask when you plan on eating the melon (today, tomorrow, lunch or dinner?) and—after a bit of theatrical appraising, brows furrowed in concentration—will then select the perfect specimen.

Left to my own devices, I rely mostly on my sense of smell, sniffing out the bottom button opposite the stem end: the riper the melon, the fruitier it will smell in that spot. I look for a delicate odor, almost floral. If it smells green, the melon is underripe, but if it’s just a hint, it can probably be left to ripen on the counter. If, on the other hand, the smell is so strong it’s cloying, the melon is past its prime; skip it.

Most of the time, we just split a melon in two and eat it plain, with a spoon, but I find it extra refreshing in the form of a cold soup, spiked with fresh ginger and black pepper. This soup is lovely on its own, with Breton Shortbread Cookies, or topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or Gazelle Horn Sorbet.

1 ripe and fragrant Charentais melon or cantaloupe (about 2 pounds / 900 g)

1 small knob of fresh ginger, peeled and sliced

1 teaspoon honey, or more to taste

Freshly ground black pepper

8 tiny fresh mint leaves, taken from the tops of the sprigs

1. Halve the melon and scoop out the seeds and pulp. If the pulp is fleshy and juicy, transfer to a fine-mesh sieve set over a bowl and press it with the back of a spoon to extract as much juice as possible. Discard the seeds.

2. Using a small melon baller, scoop 16 balls of melon flesh and set aside.

3. Scoop out the rest of the flesh with a regular spoon and transfer it with the collected juices to a blender. Add the ginger and honey and whizz until smooth. Taste and add a little more honey as needed. You should get about 2 cups / 480 ml of melon soup.

4. This can be prepared up to 2 hours ahead. Cover the melon balls and melon soup and refrigerate. Give the soup a stir before serving.

5. Divide the melon balls among 4 cups or ramekins (each about ½ cup / 120 ml) and pour in the melon soup. Sprinkle with black pepper, garnish with the mint leaves, and serve.

FALL

L’ automne

Fall is the epitome of the transitional season in Paris, as we ease back into the day-to-day rhythm of the city and try not to be saddened by the slow disappearance of sun-ripened produce. Instead, I cheer myself up with the changing colors in market stalls, inviting them into soul-warming dishes, and I seize opportunities to go foraging for the late-season berries and wild mushrooms that can be found in forests just outside of Paris.

The back-to-school vibe spurs new resolves that extend to the kitchen; it’s a good time to clear out a cluttered pantry and rethink the way we plan meals. This section presents vegetable dishes to work into your weeknight rotation or to make ahead for relaxed dinner parties.

PRODUCE TO PLAY WITH IN THE FALL

Apples • Beets • Blackberries • Broccoli • Brussels sprouts • Cabbage • Carrots • Cauliflower • Celery root • Chestnuts • Endives • Fennel • Figs • Grapefruit • Grapes • Kiwifruit • Kohlrabi • Leeks • Lemons • Mâche • Mushrooms • Oranges • Parsnips • Pears • Persimmons • Plums • Potatoes • Quince • Spinach • Swiss chard • Turnips • Walnuts • Winter squash

Seaweed Tartare

SEAWEED TARTARE

Tartare d’ algues

MAKES ABOUT ½ CUP / 120 ML

Although we haven’t reached Japanese heights yet, seaweed consumption is increasingly common in France, and that’s not so surprising; the French love flavors from the sea, oysters being considered a supreme delicacy, and with such a wide coastline, the country offers plenty of opportunities to grow and harvest seaweed.

One of the best-loved ways to prepare and eat seaweed is as a tartare, a finely chopped and well-seasoned mix of various types of seaweeds. Highly flavorful, and not so strong as to turn off novice seaweed eaters, it can be spread on crackers, thin rounds of baguette, or steamed potato slices to serve with a predinner drink. It can be used as a sandwich spread, too, and to stuff plum tomatoes, top an omelet, or dress a warm potato salad. Prepare the tartare a few hours in advance of serving.

¾ cup / 180 ml dehydrated mixed seaweed flakes

1 garlic clove, finely chopped

1 tablespoon walnut oil or untoasted sesame oil

¼ teaspoon fine sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1. Put the seaweed in a bowl with 1 cup / 240 ml cold water. Set aside to rehydrate for 30 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, combine the garlic, shallot, and lemon juice in another bowl; the acidity will soften the raw edge of the garlic and shallot.

3. Drain the seaweed thoroughly, transfer to a food processor, and add the garlic mixture, the capers, both oils, the salt, and a grinding of black pepper. Pulse until finely chopped, scraping down the sides of the bowl regularly. Taste and adjust the seasoning.

4. Transfer to a jar, close tightly, and refrigerate for at least 2 hours or overnight, to allow the flavors to mingle. Eat within 2 to 3 days.

pantry gem

DEHYDRATED SEAWEED FLAKES

If you’re focusing on plant foods, seaweed is a great ingredient to mix things up and introduce an unusual complexity of flavor—and nutrition—to your dishes.

Although seaweed can be purchased fresh, dried seaweed is the easiest form to have in your pantry: it keeps well and doesn’t need to be de-salted. Look for dehydrated seaweed flakes at natural foods stores, Asian markets, or online and choose a mix of various varieties (such as nori, dulse, wakame, sea lettuce …), if available. They are nice sprinkled over a cucumber salad or a bowl of rice or folded into cracker or savory cookie dough.

Leeks Vinaigrette

LEEKS VINAIGRETTE

Poireaux vinaigrette

SERVES 4

I have a definite fondness for the classic bistro hors d’oeuvre repertoire: céleri rémoulade (grated celery root in mustardy mayonnaise), œuf mayonnaise (deviled egg), radis beurre (radishes with butter), carottes râpées (grated carrots in vinaigrette)… . If they’re made with care and good ingredients, these unassuming appetizers are considerably more exciting than their names suggest, and their very simplicity is an opportunity for the cook’s talent to shine.

Poireaux vinaigrette is an excellent example, a full-flavored, refreshing note on which to open a meal in the cold season. Young leeks are sliced into ribbons, steamed, and served with a drizzle of vinaigrette, a shower of fresh herbs, and some egg “sprinkles” made by pressing a hard-boiled egg through a sieve (aka œuf mimosa, in reference to the shape and color of the flower).

1½ pounds / 680 g leeks, the thinner the better

1 tablespoon red wine vinegar or cider vinegar

1½ teaspoons strong Dijon mustard

Fine sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1 hard-boiled large organic egg, cooled and peeled

1 cup / 20 g fresh chervil, flat-leaf parsley, or cilantro

1. Cut off the dark tops of the leeks and reserve for stock (see Keeping a Stock Box). Trim and wash the leeks (see box). Cut them lengthwise into halves or quarters, depending on their thickness, to form long, thin strips. Set up a steamer. Steam the leeks, tightly covered, until tender, 10 to 12 minutes. Rinse under cold running water and set aside to drain and cool. This can be prepared up to a day ahead; refrigerate in an airtight container.

2. Follow the instructions in the recipe for Classic Vinaigrette to make a basic vinaigrette with the vinegar, shallot, mustard, ¼ teaspoon salt, pepper to taste, and oil. This can be prepared ahead; refrigerate in an airtight container.

3. Press the hard-boiled egg through a medium-mesh sieve to create egg “sprinkles.”

4. To serve, arrange the leeks in heaps on plates and season with salt and pepper. Drizzle with vinaigrette and sprinkle with the egg and chervil. Serve immediately.

MAKING HARD-BOILED EGGS

Perfectly cooked hard-boiled eggs have a supple white and a creamy yolk. My preferred method is to place the eggs in a pan with cold water to cover, bring to a boil with the lid on, remove from the heat, and leave for 10 minutes in the hot water without disturbing. I then plunge the eggs in a bowl of ice water to stop the cooking and cool completely.

Cooled eggs are easier to peel than still-warm ones and it’s preferable to use older eggs, as their membrane doesn’t cling so tightly to the shell. Unpeeled hard-boiled eggs can be kept for 3 days in the refrigerator; peeled ones should be eaten within a day.

GARLIC ROSEMARY CROUTONS

Croûtons à l’ ail et au romarin

MAKES 1½ CUPS / 85 G

As a typical Parisian, I buy a fresh baguette from the bakery once or twice a week. Which boulangerie I buy it from depends on where my errands are taking me and what day of the week it is; Paris bakeries close one or two days a week, but they have to consult with their nearby competitors so the neighborhood is never without a source of bread.

A good baguette keeps for a couple of days and fades quickly after that, becoming dry and a bit chewy, but I strive to use up those leftover pieces. I may whizz them in the food processor to make bread crumbs, slice them and soak them in an eggy batter to make French toast (pain perdu, “lost bread”), or cube them to make these easy croutons.

Flavored with rosemary and garlic, the crisp and golden little cubes are meant to be sprinkled over soups and salads; I must warn you that if you start snacking on them, you may reach the bottom of the bowl sooner than you anticipated.

½ teaspoon finely chopped dried rosemary

1 garlic clove, pressed in a garlic press or finely chopped

2 cups / 85 g cubed slightly stale, good-quality baguette or other French-style loaf (cubes should be ⅓ to ½ inch / 8 mm to 1 cm)

¼ teaspoon fine sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1. In a medium saucepan, combine the oil, rosemary, and garlic. Set over medium heat until the garlic and rosemary start to sizzle, about 1 minute. Remove from the heat and let rest for 10 minutes.

2. Preheat the oven to 350°F. / 175°C. and have ready a rimmed baking sheet.

3. Add the bread cubes and salt to the saucepan and stir to coat until no oil pools at the bottom of the pan.

4. Spread on the baking sheet and bake, stirring halfway through, until golden, about 10 minutes. Sprinkle with pepper and let cool. The croutons will keep for a week in an airtight container at room temperature.

Butternut and Celery Root Soup

BUTTERNUT AND CELERY ROOT SOUP

Velouté de courge butternut et céleri-rave

SERVES 6

As enthusiastic as I am about a good winter squash soup, I find they can become cloying if one is not diligent about balancing their natural sweetness. In this soup, celery root is called to the rescue and its faint anise notes are most successful in lifting the flavors of the soup and steering them in a more subtle direction. It is a simple soup, and the only real work requested on your part is peeling the butternut squash (a vegetable peeler will do the job well) and the celery root (a slightly more involved task requiring a well-sharpened knife).

I like this soup on its own, with a crusty slice of sourdough bread, but if I’m serving it to friends I’ll dress it up with a swirl of cream and a handful of Garlic Rosemary Croutons.

1 small yellow onion (4¼ ounces / 120 g), finely sliced

1 medium butternut squash (2½-pounds / 1.2 kg), peeled and cubed

1 small / 700 g celery root, peeled and cubed

4 cups / 1 liter Vegetable Stock, hot

Freshly ground black pepper

Heavy cream, for serving (optional)

Garlic Rosemary Croutons, for serving (optional)

1. Heat the oil in a large soup pot. Add the onion and cook, stirring often, until softened, about 4 minutes. Stir in the squash, celery root, salt, and rosemary. Cook, stirring often, for 10 minutes.