This post is inspired by a request from Laura M for some pastries with delicious details.

Since a picture is worth a thousand words, here's a few pics of treats I've enjoyed.

Chocolate fondant with pistachio ice cream

Parisian-style frozen nougat

Gascon flaky apple tart

Tulip cookie with lemon emulsion which sounds better as Tulipe et son emulsion au citron de menton.

Chef took issue with our suggestion that this emulsion was a typical English lemon curd. He added that British cooking really had very little to offer and this was not English, but we still left the kitchen feeling it was a great lemon curd recipe.

Almond croissant and Pan au chocolate from des Gateaux de pain

des Gateaux du Pain is a owned by a female baker. Female bakers are not to common and there isn't really a feminine word in French for female baker.

David Lebovitz has pondered about this and suggested starting some such as...boulangesse?...boulangeuse?

Well, honestly this doesn't begin to cover the sweets I've eaten, but it's all for research right? Getting to know a culture through its foods is a job I take seriously--just don't ever ask me to make these. I'm a cook not a boulangeuse.

Here's a short review in French and reference in English to the boulangerie.
http://www.paperblog.fr/1225659/des-gateaux-et-du-pain-patisserie-et-boulangerie-paris-75/
http://www.monocle.com/webprogrammes/Quality-of-Life-Index/Des-Gateaux-et-du-Pain-Paris/

Food and French Mistresses

Today I made a dish either honoring a French King’s mistress or honoring French food lore--you decide. Many French meals have charming stories linked directly to famous events or persons.

I usually listen in awe when a chef reveals a historical food reference dating back 200 years. Perhaps my attraction to ancient food stories stems from the fact that most American dishes and desserts are descendents from other food cultures.


Last year a French chef’s food story transported me to June 14, 1800 onto the French battlefield with Napoleon Bonaparte’s chef who immediately after the bloody Battle of Marengo creates “Chicken Marengo”. Napoleon’s army has just defeated the enemies yet the horrors are not yet over; there is no butter, my god what does the French chef do? He creates a dish using olive oil, after all, they are in Italy.

This week it’s the story of Cotes D’agneau Champvallon revealing a sexy side of French culinary history. The chef relates that the mistress Champvallon of King Louis the XIV inspired this dish. Acclaimed Chef Daniel Boulud, of four-star restaurant DANIEL in New York, has a recipe for this dish and relates via several web sites that this dish was made by the mistress Champvallon to gain the king’s favor.

Unfortunately, when I researched this food-lover of kings, my fantasies were dashed as I failed to locate evidence of her. Apparently King Louis the XIV was a busy guy mistress-wise chalking up at least 14 officially recognized mistresses, none of them named Champvallon.

With the Chicken Marengo dish, food research related to this dish are included in many sources including Larousse Gastronomique , Oxford Companion to Food and The Illustrated History of French Cuisine. Several resources relate various dramatic details of the Marengo chicken event or deny that it happened. However, I prefer to recall the chef’s stories when I make these dishes as thinking about heroic and juicy food stories while cooking adds a little something special to the dish.

Here's Chef Boulud's version of Lamb Chops Champvallon (Serves 4)

You can prepare this regal version up to 3 hours in advance then reheat it slowly 15 to 20 minutes before serving.


Ingredients:12 lamb chops, 1 cm (1/2 inch) thick, trimmed of all fat. Salt, freshly ground black pepper, 15 ml olive oil, for cooking (1 tbsp), 60 ml sweet butter (4 tbsp), half of it melted, 2 large onions, peeled and sliced 1/8-inch (2 mm) thick, 2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped, 2 sprigs fresh thyme, 2 bay leaves, 1.35 kg baking potatoes (3 lbs), sliced 2 mm (1/8 inch) thick, 750 ml chicken stock (3 cups), 2 sprigs parsley, leaves only, minced. Preheat oven to 160 C (350 F).


Use a thick copper pot about 4 inches deep and 14 inches in diameter, or a large roasting pan that fits all the chops. Salt and pepper the chops, heat the oil in the pan over high heat and brown on both sides for 3 to 4 minutes. Remove the chops and set aside. Add 30 ml (2 tbsp) of the butter, the onions, garlic, thyme and bay leaves to the same roasting pan and sweat for 8 to 10 minutes (making sure the onions do not colour).


Put the potatoes in a bowl. Add the salt, pepper, onions, garlic, and herbs. Mix well. Brush the inside of the pan with 15 ml (1 tbsp) of the melted butter. Spread 1/2 of the potato/onion mixture evenly on the bottom of it, about 1/4-inch thick and include 1 bay leaf and 1 thyme sprig. Fit all the chops side by side over the potato layer. Cover with the rest of the potato/onion mixture. The top layer will also be 1/4-inch thick and include 1 bay leaf and a thyme sprig. Press down on the top layer with a spatula. Pour in the chicken stock until it reaches the top layer of the potatoes. Cut a piece of parchment paper the size of the inside of the pan to use as a lid. Brush it with the 15 ml (1 tbsp) melted butter and place it butter side down, covering the entire surface of the potatoes. Bake for about 75 to 90 minutes. The top layer should be light brown and the inside moist, with 1/3 of the chicken stock left. Discard the parchment, bay leaves, and thyme. PresentationSprinkle the dish with parsley, and serve from the pan.
(see http://www.frenchedonist.com/uk/archives-recettes/c.agneau.htm for more info)


Here’s some sites I use in addition to food history books:
http://www.foodtimeline.org/
http://www.foodtimeline.org/foodmeats.html#chickenmarengo (shows contrasting stories)
http://www.foodhistorynews.com/debunk.html#typology

Piperades and Chicken Tendons

We explored the French Basque Country with the dish Poulet Sauté Basquaise (Basque-style chicken) with saffron rice--see my plating with crispy Bayonne ham slices.

This dish is characterized by a Piperade which is boringly referred to as a "vegetable garnish" in our French recipe as is just about every vegetable mixture in our recipes.

A piperade is a Basque dish typically prepared with tomatoes and green peppers, onions (all colors of the Basque flag), olive oil and Espelette pepper which is cultivated in the Basque region. (see the link for more info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Espelette_pepper

This spicy pepper and tomato sauce can be a side dish, stewing ingredient or garnish and is often added to scrambled eggs and omelets (see a basic recipe below).

Before making our “vegetable garnish”, we begin with the chicken tendons. For home cooks, this is a non-existent step in prepping a chicken. However, to torture yourself or serve more restaurant-style chicken legs, check this out:

• Carefully slice the skin at the back of lower leg join
• Tug on the large tendons that run the length of the leg down to the foot and claws.
• Hook the tendons with some tool, twist and pull (I used a ladle hook and pulled until I was red in the face)

The chef had commented or perhaps joked (I may have missed the French intonation) in class that the women should find a strong man to help them with this step; therefore, there was no way ever I was going to ask for help.

The first few attempts of pulling on the tendons caused the claws to retract painfully into the palm of my hand—a cool horror movie effect. I then moved onto removing each tendon separately rather than risk being offered help by the chef.

Basic piperade recipe:

Sweat 1 thin sliced onion in hot olive oil. Add 2 thin-sliced peppers (1 red and 1 green is nice). If you’re in France peel the pepper or roast it and pull off the nutritionally-dense skin and toss—French cooking is very sensitive to potential and perceived digestive food elements.

Add peppers to onion mix and 3-4 crushed garlic cloves. Let cook until softened.

Blanch 4 tomatoes--for technique see http://www.instructables.com/id/EOMPU43YZBERIE2LQH/ Slice thin and add to onion mix along with dried thyme, a bay leaf and espelette pepper (or some mild chili powder). If tomatoes are not particularly fresh or flavorful, add a pinch of sugar.

Cover and let cook for about 20 minutes and season with salt and pepper as needed (if in France, add gobs of salt if serving a French chef—see my previous blog about salt consumption in France at http://chezmichelerd.blogspot.com/2007/11/french-pinch-of-salt.html

Blowing Boudin Blanc...casings that is

Boudin Blanc aux Pommes

The chef placed the pig intestine sausage casings to his lips and blew. The sausage casing filled like a balloon for a clown’s animal sculpture. The chef then grimaced and wiped his lips clear of the juicy casing liquids and explained “here’s a trick for checking for holes in your casing”--yum; I’m thinking I can’t wait to try that trick.



Boudin blanc is a traditional sausage made from pork, pork and veal or chicken and pork fat (of course, since it’s sausage and it’s French sausage). Traditionally a Christmas food, it is now found year round.

I prefer boudin blanc to making boudin noir sausage which is 50% animal blood, but soon I’ll have to use blood in making coq en barbouille.


After checking out my casing, I decided to try the balloon trick without actually touching the guts part—kind of like giving mouth to mouth without any lip action; I was pretty effective—see my results.

I asked in class if there were any non-animal casing options and was told there were edible plastics. Some research revealed casings available from cellulose (cotton or wood fibers), inedible collagen and plastic but none of which can be consumed. There is an edible collagen from skins and hides, but I found no sources of edible plastic. So if you’ve heard of this unnatural animal, I’d appreciate any input.

Chef also said that serving apples with the sausage was traditional because the apples aided in digestion. Apples do contain tartaric and malic acids that can aid with digestion as well as pectin which is promotes probiotic bacteria in the intestinal tract.


I’ve listed the nutritional content for typical boudin blanc from a French website, but am suspicious of the low amount of saturated fat listed, but fully believe the generous sodium listed.

100 g (3 1/3oz)
Calories: 242
Protein: 10 gram
Fat: 20g (6.8 saturated)
Carbs: 5.5 grams
Sodium: 703 grams





http://www.i-dietetique.com/

Back at the Blue

I’m returning to Le Cordon Bleu having learned a few tricks for packing my knife kit. Here’s my top 10 for list of stuff to take or not take to school.

1. Waterproof bandaids with special fingertip styles (you know, to give to the other students)

2. Burn cream (again, of course, for other students)

3. Upgrade the knife kit with a real peeler and add a fish deboner and scaler, zester, heat proof spatula, mini-tart rings (for garnishes/sides) & diamond edge knife sharpener (removes less metal)
4. Nail polish or waterproof markers to brand your kitchen gear as yours (you’ll still loose stuff)

5. Plastic sleeves to protect class notes from the daily blood spray of chopping bloody animals or fish carcasses of some sort

6. Tupperware of some sort for leftovers that you don’t chuck and plastic baggies for leftovers when you’re too tired to clean your Tupperware

7. Change for coffee at the essential coffee vending machine

8. A camera for food photography such as macro setting, white balancing, high fstop and fast shutter speed

9. Keep at home: stain remover for that blood and guts rubbed in look. Try Ace Delicat brand wash soap and K2r spray for the most stubborn stains.

10. Keep at home: rings (even wedding rings sadly), earrings, any jewelry and face goo/makeup

Amsterdam Quickie

I wanted rijsttafel. I wanted it from the country of origin. So, off we went to the lively city of Amsterdam. Two days of eating our way through Amsterdam endeared us to several fried and baked delights, broodjes (Dutch Sandwiches), Dutch gin and our destination meal of rijsttafel.

This quickie visit included satisfying food pleasures, yet left a lingering guilt; food ruled over meaningful insight into Amsterdam culture. But a private tour did give us a nibble of history and a memorable slice of Amsterdam food culture.

We started with a “culinary” food tour. Our private tour guide, Carlota, explained the tour was “tongue-and-cheek” since Amsterdam isn't viewed as a European culinary destination. After eating Oliebollen, I may have to disagree. Who could pass by these rich “little pillows of heaven” (husband Kerry’s description), without scarfing one down and leaving a dusty coat of powdered sugar evidence on your clothes.

Oliebollen is a Dutch Krispy crème style donut without the super sugary coatings. This yeasty pillow has the appeal of a light fluffy interior with an al dente exterior and no greasy taste nor feel. Oliebollen is an appealing contrast to the typical cake style American donuts with the added benefit of some spices and dried fruits. For a recipe see the link. a recipe see the link. http://bakingfreakrecipes.blogspot.com/2005/08/oliebollen.htmlot.com/2005/08/oliebollen.html


Along the fried food themes, we also experienced croquettes at a Febo diner. Sort of a Dutch McD’s. Febo was launched in 1941 as an automatic “food-in-the-wall” delivery system. The company website lists over 50 shops in the Netherlands and is named after the founder FErdinand BOlstraat.

Our croquette had a crunchy exterior with a hot gravy meat-like filling. Perfectly acceptable for a student budget or fried food aficionados. As a dietitian and slow food support, I eat such foods as a pop-cultural food adventure, so I ate my croquette share on a dare, but passed on the burgers and fries.

Other fried temptations included street frites served typically with mayonnaise—I opted for curry ketchup. These were rapidly eaten while watching canal activity from a wooden bench—a “super bon” frites experience.

Carlota suggested we try some Herring sandwiches from one of the street stands. Herring isn’t in high season in November, but is still available. We found Henk’s Herring stand on a canal bridge and were given a soft smooth bun enveloping buttery-soft fish topped with sweet onions and slivers of pickle, just a complete wonder for 2.50 Euro.

Our guide also introduced us to poffertjes. These pancake style treats are baked over a hot cooktop in iron molds. We tried these several times and failed to get a picture because we couldn't delay the pleasure of eating hot, buttery dough puffs topped with powdered sugar. So, here's a picture from Noskos who permitted my use of it--see his recipe posted below.

The next morning we did broodjes for breakfast. Our wonderful B&B host, Paul, from rooms@bedandbreakfastamsterdam.net recommended several restaurants to fulfill our desires to eat good local food. At Lunchroom Diwi, our waitress and probably proprietress, spoke only Dutch to us, but we successfully managed to order egg broodjes with mounds of crispy yet substantive bacon topped with a perfectly fried egg hiding a soft bun. I ate the entire sandwich but hey it was really cold that day and my bodily thermogenesis to cope with the cold required more calories (I call this caloric rationalization).

We started our rijsttafel research before leaving the states by quizzing our friend Christiaan who is from Holland. Rijsttafel is a Dutch invention derived from Dutch colonization of Indonesia from 1602 to 1945. Rijsttafel (rice table) is like Indonesian tapas—small plates of mostly Indonesian influenced foods with rice.

Typically one is served 12-25 dishes including meats, vegetables, fish, satays and nuts and seasonings of coconut, peanuts, chilies, curry, lemon grass and fruits. Our first experience with rijsttafel was an event of contrasting flavors, textures and seasoning sensory overload.

We ate at a modern style rijsttafel place called Blauw (blue in Dutch). Opting to split one rijsttafel order was an exercise in gluttonous restraint and left us just enough room for desert. http://amsterdam.restaurantblauw.nl/content

We also fit in some gin tasting at a bar filled only with locals who loved our ignorance about gin and made happy, slightly tipsy comments about Obama's presidency. We had 3 glasses of gin at 1:00 in the afternoon on an empty stomach; we left the bar quite cheery and warm. Our guide ended our tour at a local bar for Belgium beer and a cheese plate with heavy dark breads. We spent 2 hours discussing culture, food and politics--the best kind of travel experience.

http://noskos.blogspot.com/2008/03/poffertjes.html
Poffertjes Recipe (abbreviated by Michele)

Sift 125 grams flour + 125 grams buckwheat flour. Proof 10 grams yeast in 100ml of lukewarm milk, make a well in flour and mix. Add 200 ml warm milk & a pinch of salt. Combine well and add 1 lightly beaten egg. Cover with plastic wrap & rest batter for 45 minutes in warm area. Heat the poffertjespan, brush some melted butter in mold and fill each halfway up with batter. When the poffertjes are dry at the edge and the bottom has a nice color turn them over until done. Noskos adds that he turns them over when part of the top is still liquid. Top with confectioners sugar.

Turning Vegetables, Turning Tables

The French have charming and specific verbs to describe cooking techniques. Chemiser, from the word chemine (shirt), means to coat or give a “shirt” of butter and flour to the inside of a soufflé dish to reduce sticking and promote rising. Citronner (citrons are lemons) is to rub certain foods with lemon to prevent discoloring. Truffer, easily translates to the action of adding truffles to a meal. So if you and your friends decide to get wild and “truffons” one night, in ONE word you’re actually saying “Hey, let’s add truffles to our meal”. What’s the word for that in English again? Oh, yea, it’s “Hey let’s all add truffles to our meal”.

Most French culinary terms charm my linguistic sentiments--except for the verb tourner. Tourner exactly describes the act of turning vegetables. But despite this verb cognate sounding exactly like what it is, it is completely the wrong lexicon for me. This is because the word, tourner sounds so simple, yet in the French culinary application, it fails to convey its twisted complicated nature. At first, the act of turning vegetables causes students to coo “Oh la la” as they lean forward to watch their French chef quickly turn a vegetable into a perfectly 7-sided "barrel” or “olive” with a razor sharp paring knife. But as soon as the students are on the other end of the knife, their coo’s become “merde”, “ouch”, “damn” or “f _ _ _” in the student’s primary cursing tongue. If I was in charge of the culinary glossary at Le Cordon Bleu, I’d change tourner, as it relates to turning vegetables, to "torturer".

How to turn vegetables:

In French cuisine, the size of turned vegetables is codified (thanks to Escoffier, no doubt) by size and as described in Le Cordon Bleu reference bibliography:

· "l'anglaise": turned to be 5 cm (2 inches) long and 2.5 cm (1 inch) thick (usually for potatoes)
· "cocotte": turned to be slightly shorter and more olive shaped than l’anglaise
· "château": turned to about 1.5 cm (0.5 inch) longer and thicker than pommes de terre à l'anglaise.

Why turn them?

It’s a tradition in French cooking schools. But actually these even-sided symmetrical vegetables and potatoes do roll around nicely in a sauté pan and tend to cook at the same rate. Unfortunately, in most kitchens with fast table turnover and high staff costs, there’s little time for veggie symmetry and the potential amount of food product waist is high. As one of our chefs lamented, “You never see turned vegetables in restaurants any more, but I’m hoping they make a come-back”. This melancholy sentiment is completely lost on the students.

Picture of my Hake w/ Hollandaise and turned veggies

LCB Reference found at http://www.ibiblio.org/expo/restaurant/chef/turning.html