Gluten Free

Tortilla Primavera

Today I’ve tasked myself with organizing a Fourth of July party–in France. I’m not normally the most patriotic person in the room, but my status as the (presumably) only American for many miles has suddenly given me the irrepressible impetus to represent my country, to explain the holiday to any and all Frenchies who’ve crossed my path over the past several days.

Of course, my interest in the 4th is mostly food-and-pool related (is that bad? ah well), although I’m never one to snub my nose at fireworks, either. (Fortunately, I got to watch a spectacular show on the beach just a few days ago, as Châtelaillon was celebrating the start of summer with some feu d’artifice of their own.)

Anyway, here’s what I’m making: Read more »

Spring Hash

Yesterday evening, after twenty hours of travel, the Frenchman and I arrived in La Rochelle. The trip, maddeningly, took longer than expected: a delayed flight resulted in a missed train, resulted in an extra four hours of airport loitering..you get the picture. When our (second) train at last pulled into the station, I was feeling decidedly sleep deprived.

But then the Frenchman’s family appeared. They peppered us with kisses, and their sheer enthusiasm was a tonic more efficacious than coffee.

And so we waltzed to the old port, to a café table facing the ancient towers. We ordered a round of frosty beers, and shared a plate of brine-bright oysters from Île d’Oléron. The evening was sunny and breezy. Read more »

A Birthday Sundae, A Birthday Surprise

To my darling Frenchman, on his 28th birthday,

As you read this, you are fresh off a fourteen hour flight from Argentina: The tail end of a double business trip that took you far away for the better part of two weeks. But now you are home, perhaps puttering to the coffee machine, or scolding me for not watering the succulents, or racing a line of kisses across my collarbone, razzing “Pepé Le Pew!” into my ear—-or any one of a thousand, small deeds that constitute our life together.

I am grateful for the nearly five years I have known you. I am grateful for what we have together, for what we’ve built, unhurriedly, imperfectly, one day at a time. We’ve fashioned a partnership with firm foundations, you and I, and that simple, essential, stupendous knowledge gives me courage every day, and makes all things seem possible.

I love you so very, very much, sweet chéri. I love you so much, in fact, that I have been lying to you for the better part of five months. Can you forgive me? (Since you are still quibbling about that itty-bitty non-event wherein I told you I was buying two small shelves from Ikea to “organize” our apartment, already filled to the brim with (my) (kitchen) things, but then actually went ahead and bought three, not-exactly-minuscule shelves and then asked you to construct them for me, this remains to be seen.) Read more »

Eton Mess with Rhubarb-Gin Jam and Lemon-Basil Meringue

Beyond its role as a harbinger of spring, until recently, rhubarb didn’t excite me very much. I always thought the stalks were lovely, speckled in shades of sorbet-vivid green and fuchsia, but rhubarb’s tart herbaceousness was never my favorite. But then I tried a cocktail, made by a friend who knows her way around cocktails. She also knows how to bring out the best in rhubarb. Her concoction blended rhubarb syrup and bitters with gin, basil, citrus and vinegar. It was delicious–both complex and refreshing.

So when the first stalks of rhubarb appeared at the farmers market, I decided to run with her flavor combination, in my take on an Eton Mess.

The resulting dessert is a bit on the savory side, thanks to the basil, the rhubarb, and the gin. The strawberries and cream add sweetness, and a cool freshness, to the proceedings. I’m tickled by how the meringues turned out: taffy-soft on the inside and crisp on the edges, redolent of basil and lemon in equal measure.

You can serve this dessert in a variety of ways: Read more »

Customizable Custard

The Frenchman is not one for desserts. He enjoys fruit, or yogurt with a spoonful of jam, but that’s generally the limit. Even when he does partake, his catalog is limited: pain au chocolat (which, I might point out, is technically breakfast), crème brûlée, or a square of dark chocolate. His motto is, “If you aren’t still hungry after a meal, why eat dessert?”

Wait, what? Before meeting him, I never considered hunger as the reason to eat dessert.

My incomprehension at Monsieur French Toast’s anti-dessert tendencies aside, most of the time I wish I could magically adopt this part of his personality. Wouldn’t it be lovely to wake up one morning and not care one iota for the perfect chocolate chip cookie: edges caramelized, chewy, insides pillowy and heady with brown butter; a constellation of fleur de sel across the top?

Sadly, this is not the case. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not as if I’m mainlining caramels, but still: after four plus years together, he has yet to convince me that eating an apple is just as pleasurable as a shortbread cookie. Read more »

Dulce de Leche and Jam Ice Cream

dulce de leche and jam ice cream

Well here’s a bit of news: tomorrow, I board a plane and leave for eight days in sunny Buenos Aires, where The Frenchman is currently business tripping. This voyage popped up somewhat last minute, but as I’ve never been to South America before, and as it’s winter here, and as–who says no to a trip to Argentina?–, it seemed prudent to aprovechar de la situación.

My other exciting semi-announcement is that I’m working toward making Spring Lake Creamery a real live business. I attended a fair this past weekend, and while it was ten degrees below zero thanks to a defunct radiator, the handful of eskimos willing to eat frozen dessert while also frozen themselves seemed to enjoy what they tried. I am continually adding to my list of Winter 2013 flavors. Slowly, I’m working toward making this ambition a reality.

This recipe is a nod to both my upcoming trip, and to my potential ice cream future. Read more »

Lentil Salad with Meyer Lemon Vinaigrette

lentil salad with Meyer lemon vinaigrette

I’ve been thinking a lot about tone and voice, and how they pertain to this blog. Although I’ve never been one for diary writing, for straightforward personal confession, I admit this is a journal of sorts. It details what I am cooking in a particular moment, as well as selected events around each recipe. I suppose creative writing of any stripe is its own kind of confession.

After a year plus of writing this blog, I’m sure my recipe-developing skills have improved. (I need only look to the archives to know this.) Part of me wants to scurry back and tweak what I know can be bettered, while another part of me is comforted by the fact that I can trace the changes. (I’m sure I’ve read similar sentiments voiced by Emma at Poires au Chocolat, but I can’t find where.) My photography skills have progressed too, as I’ve slowly learned the manual functions on my camera. Post recent birthday, I have loftier hopes still, thanks to a new lens (merci, darling Frenchman), a better editing system, and my first tripod (thanks, Mom).

But what about the other portion of the blog? The essay, the headnote, the this. When I read advice from successful bloggers, the same opinion is often echoed: “find your personal voice”, or “be yourself”. But how does one consciously follow this advice? If the hallmark of a successful blog is the convergence of skilled writing and a defined, likable personality, what qualifies the personality? From the writer’s perspective, where is the demarcating line, the happy medium, between inviting a reader into your life, and giving away the store? Read more »

Butternut, Apple, and Parsnip Soup with Smoked Duck

Hello/Bonjour! Long time no see. My self-imposed winter break lasted a little longer than I originally intended, but now I am back and raring to go.

Let’s get right to this soup. It is perfect in every way you hope a January soup will be. It is oh so easy to make (like, actually easy), and quite economical too. If you make it a day ahead, it will only taste better upon reheating. It freezes beautifully. (Make a double batch to tuck into the freezer for some other night.)

The squash, apple, and parsnip balance together famously. The soup itself is a little sweet, a little sharp, and incredibly rich in flavor, while low in calories. (You know I don’t normally care about such things, but what with January being a month of resolutions, I figured it was worth mentioning.)

The only bad part about this soup is peeling the butternut squash. I abhor peeling butternut squash. Alas, we can’t have everything in life. Read more »