This Week's Menu: Food as Life

I've had one of *those* weeks. You know the ones. First, I was sick so I missed lots of work and sat around the house. Second, I had to make some difficult Life Decisions - those choices where you know the answer but you hesitate to take that leap. These Decisions aren't easy to make and are the cause of many, many tears...yet when the choice is made, you feel lighter inside. Anyway, I had to make one of those Decisions. Last, because I was out of town last weekend, I didn't do any food shopping for this past week...so you can't imagine the haphazard, crappy way we ate this whole week. It made me feel discombobulated and out-of-sorts.

So today I made the menu for the upcoming week. Here it is:

Saturday - Penne with Vodka Sauce

Sunday - Goat Cheese Tart, green salad (tart recipe from The French Market)

Monday - Butternut Squash and Sweet Potato Soup, ciabatta bread with dipping oil

Tuesday - Mustard Pork Chops with gnocchi

Wednesday - Blue Cheese Pasta (from Real Fast Food)

Thursday - Grilled cheese sandwiches, red pepper soup

When I looked at the menu, I realized what I had done unconsciously: I had created a healing menu. These are comforting foods, unapologetic in their warmth and simplicity. And I love the power of food - and the prospect of sharing it with my family - to make me feel better.

Eat, drink, and find comfort.

Oh, the baking! My eyes, my eyes!

I know I can't keep begging you guys for baked goods, but still...

...More than Burnt Toast made Caramel Sea Salt Brownies, for heaven's sake!  And watched Chocolat!  This is a cruel conspiracy to make me start baking!  Without a KitchenAid!

Want to save money? Give him THIS for the holidays!

I have been going on and on and ON about how much I love Joanne Harris' and Fran Warde's cookbooks.  I'm a friggin broken record.  But, ah, I've had an ace up my sleeve, the pièce de résistance to show off how truly awesome these books are.

Remember Chocolat (the movie)?  When Juliette Binoche (whose wardrobe in this movie I want for my very own) makes the hot chocolate for Judi Dench?  Of course it has the chili pepper in it and, upon first sip, Judi Dench gets that sexy smile and laughs that deep sexy laugh.  Who knew that Judi Dench could be sexy?  It must be the hot chocolate.

Without further ado, I give you - from My French Kitchen - Vianne's Spiced Hot Chocolate:

* the crowd goes WILD! *

My pictures suck as usual but all I have to say is...DAMN.  This was amazing.  I'll just give you the recipe and you'll understand what I mean:

1 1/2 c. milk

1/2 vanilla bean, cut in half lengthwise

1/2 cinnamon stick

1 hot red chile, halved and seeded

3 1/2 oz bittersweet (70 percent) chocolate

Brown sugar to taste (optional - I left it out and encourage you to)

Whipped cream, chocolate curls, cognac or Amaretto, to serve

Place milk in a saucepan, add the vanilla bean, cinnamon stick, and chile, and gently bring to a "shivering simmer" for 1 minute.  Grate the chocolate and whisk it in until it melts (I didn't grate it - I had those bite-size chocolate pieces and just added them in one by one).  If you're adding brown sugar (don't do it!), this is the point where you put it in.  Take off heat and allow it to infuse for 10 minutes (this is where it gets all thick like molasses...in the best way possible).  Remove the vanilla, cinnamon, and chile.  Return to the heat and bring gently back to a simmer.  Serve in mugs topped with whipped cream, chocolate curls, or a dash of cognac or Amaretto.

We only used the whipped cream (homemade, of course), and I don't see myself ever adding in the cognac or Amaretto.   The hot chocolate was perfect without it and one doesn't mess with perfection.  And I don't mind adding that drinking this with Adam after Kiddo went to bed was downright sexy.  Seriously, you must try this.

Eat, drink, and indulge in perfection.

"You jump, I jump. Remember?": Trusting your cookbook's author*

Thanks to my pal Ellen, I now subscribe to Publishers Weekly's "Cooking the Books" newsletter. In the latest email, there is a brief interview with Ina Garten. The interview isn't all that illuminating, but I did love this quote at the end:

"I think it’s served me well that each of my books has more than just recipes, that it has a story and a reason for being. The thing about a book is that it has a personality, whereas a recipe on the Web doesn’t. There’s a trust that comes with a person."

She hits the nail on the head. I had never been able to articulate that, when it comes to my cookbooks, there is a trust relationship with the cook who wrote the book. For instance, I trust Ina implicitly: she tells me it's good and I should make it...you bet your arse I'll make it. Another example is Jamie Oliver. We're friends and he's done some good things for me...but he's also a pretty flaky friend: he doesn't tell me how high the heat on my stove should be and why, oh why, didn't he give me a specific cooking time? And Jamie doesn't seem to know anything about my life as a full-time working mom in a metropolitan area. So he and I have a rocky relationship: we love each other and then hate each other. Someone else who I trust with the health, pleasure, and soulful nourishment of my family and me? Joanne Harris and Fran Warde (My French Kitchen and The French Market). They have charmed and seduced me, and we have the most lovely relationship these days. I encourage you to trust them as well.

Eat, drink, and develop trust relationships with your cookbooks.


*Yeah, I quoted Titanic in the post title. I still love that movie. Judge away.

Chez Lutz: Gougère au jambon

I’ve blogged before (here and here) about the surprising relationship between food and Joanne Harris, who wrote Chocolat and now has ventured into children’s/YA literature with Runemarks.

It’s been a few months since I’ve made anything from The French Market, and I’m so glad I revisited this cookbook tonight.  Both books – The French Market and The French Kitchen – challenge me and my abilities…yet they do so in manageable ways for a full-time working mother such as myself.  Tonight I made the gougère au jambon, and it turned out mighty fine:

 

 I didn't use the exact right-sized dish (I should have gone a bit bigger) so the ham mixture didn't cook as thoroughly as it could have.  Even then, I added five minutes to the final cooking time because I realized my dish was too small and deep.  But it tasted RAD.  Unfortunately, I can’t post the recipe since I followed it exactly (minus the one extra clove of garlic I added – the recipe called for two cloves).  But here are links to other related recipes:

- Gougères stuffed with ham mousse (Emeril Lagasse)

- Gougères (Epicurious)

I also can recommend The French Market by Joanne Harris and Fran Warde.  In addition to the gougère recipe, I have also made their salad with walnuts (salade aux noix), their warm salad with Camembert dressing (salade tiède au Camembert), and their potato, cabbage, and Camembert casserole (tourte au Camembert)…all to huge success.  Not to mention that you can impress the hell out of your guests by giving them the French names for the meals!

Mangez, boivez, et parlez français!

 

WINE NOTES : Thanks to Karen Page and Andrew Dornenburg’s What to Drink with What You Eat, I found out that an Old World Chardonnay would work well with the gougère.  So Adam picked out the Chateau Lafayette Reneau Seyval-Chardonnay.  I said, “Honey!  That’s a New York wine!  It’s not Old World!”  To which Adam responded, “But it says Chateau!”  All you French speakers out there will appreciate that there is no l’accent circonflexe in the word “Chateau” on this bottle.  But the only other Chardonnay we had was Casa Silva 2007 Chardonnay…from Chile.  So I had to take a leap.  And the Casa Silva was fantastic with it.  I’m drinking a glass right now, post-dinner, and it’s rather oaky.  But the oak just disappeared with the gougère and they perfectly complemented each other. 

A phoenix rising from the ashes

So here were the ashes last night:


This pathetic mess is the Cabbage Galette recipe from My French Kitchen by Joanne Harris and Fran Warde. Based on the photo in the book, I expected soft green cabbage and a golden crust. So I kept looking through the window of the oven, wondering what the hell was going on. Then I realized: CRAP! I forgot to add two eggs to the crust mixture!!!! No wonder I didn't have enough to cover the top of the galette! No wonder I wasn't getting a golden crust! But with only 10 minutes left on the timer, I decided to keep it in the oven. When time was up, I took it out and noticed the cabbage was still raw and crunchy. Wha...?!?! I checked the recipe... CRAP! I forgot to blanche the cabbage first! It was just SO BAD that I laughed and told the husband to just dump it. Wanna hear why this happened? Because I was actually home by myself when I was making it versus the usual mid-week madness of my kiddo's homework and a schedule to stick to. I actually had time. So I leisurely prepared it, drinking wine and singing along to music. I got lazy. I wasn't vigilant. And this is what happens. I always knew I worked better under pressure but I learned last night just how true that is.

And here's the phoenix:


Instead I made the dinner I originally had planned for this evening: Jamie Oliver's Fifteen Christmas Salad. It was the first time I had made it (also the first time I tried the Cabbage Galette), and I can't even express to you how simple it is, yet how rich it is in flavor. First you start off with the mozzarella di bufala, which is on the bottom, and you sprinkle salt, pepper, and freshly grated lemon zest on it (Layer 1). Then the recipe calls for clementine slices next, but I used peeled cara cara oranges (Layer 2). Then you dress some salad greens in lemon-oil dressing and wrap them in some speck (smoked proscuitto, Layer 3). Then the recipe calls for shaved Parmigiano Reggiano on top, but I used pecorino romano, which didn't work so well - use Parmigiano Reggiano like Jamie says (Layer 4). Last, finish with a sprinkling of aged balsamic vinegar (Layer 5). It was textured, rich, and simple. It tasted decadent but was still surprisingly light on its feet. And it paired splendidly with the Bridlewood Viognier I had already poured. The best part? It took me about 20 minutes to pull together after my cabbage galette debacle.

Bon appètit!

The One Where I Avoid Discussing Libraries

Oh, I know I’ve been inexcusably absent. Life has been crazy, of course, but I’ve also been feeling sort of…meh. You know? Particularly about librarianship, lately. Between Annoyed Librarian here and here, The Monkey Speaks here, and my own feelings about the Marathon County issue, I’m just feeling sort of desperate and sad about being a librarian. Never fear, this is just a temporary funk. I’ll be back to my cheery self soon. Since I’m dealing, I won’t be talking about libraries today.

So what does one do when feeling icky and down? Eat! Of course! And read about eating! Well, at least that’s what I do and, if you don’t, then you should start. Few things can bring you greater pleasure than eating, truly.

As I mentioned, I’ve been eating (and drinking) a lot at The Ginger Man. Read my review.

I had a fascinating conversation (to me, anyway) with a friend of mine over wine, salad, and chili at Tavern on Jane last weekend (because Corner Bistro still remains elusive). I’ll call this friend L—. L— and I share a mutual loathing of sleeping; we consider it a waste of our time and wish we could put those 8 hours a day to better use. So imagine my surprise when L— tells me that she feels the same way about food. Say what?!?! How could anyone feel that about food?! Even when I was 20 pounds heavier and 10 years younger, I still derived enormous pleasure from movie popcorn, Velveeta, and eating an entire baguette in one sitting. Good food, good times. But how can anyone just…not care?! How can anyone say that they’d be perfectly happy if they never needed to eat?! After some probing we ended up talking about her very Puritanical upbringing, where one was not supposed to get pleasure from one’s body, one’s sexuality, or one’s food. Pleasure, in general, was frowned upon and denied oneself. Once L—explained it that way, it made sense because many of us struggle with these issues, with America’s Puritanical history. Not to mention, we – generally speaking – have this weird idea about punishing ourselves when we feel pleasure, or in anticipation of feeling pleasure. How else can you explain our weird gym obsession? “Oh god, I had two pieces of pizza last night!” Hop on a treadmill and punish yourself until you’ve burned off all those calories, thus negating your sin. Or “I’m going to have a big dinner tonight – I better pay for it now” and hop on that Stairmaster to punish yourself beforehand. Now, don’t get me wrong: I do believe there are people who get pleasure from the gym and its culture. But I don’t think that’s the norm. Nevertheless, there really needs to be a stop to this mentality of pleasure deprivation and self-punishment. Life awaits.

I gushed about Lucy’s Kitchen Notebook earlier and her tour of Lyon’s farmers’ markets. She has another market profile up: Marché Guichard. Read it and weep at the gorgeousness.

Anyone have any cookbook recommendations? I believe I mentioned before that I was getting a little burned out on Food Network cookbooks, and that’s how I discovered The French Market by Joanne Harris and Fran Warde. But now I’ve realized I’m bored with French and Italian cuisine. Seriously, that’s all I ever do. I need to branch out! I love Latino food, at least the milder versions. I’ll make that the focus of my next cookbook purchase, and feel free to make any suggestions.

I just finished reading From Here, You Can’t See Paris: seasons a French village and its restaurant by Michael S. Sanders. I’ll have a proper review up soon but, if you’re looking for a quiet, lovely, cozy read about French village life – its beauty, its complications, its simplicity, its trappings – then you’ll thoroughly enjoy this.

Is anyone else sick of root vegetables? Yeah, me too.

I have no clue what I’m making for dinner tonight. Sometimes I think about how much easier life would be if I were sans the husband and kiddo, and here’s why: I have a gorgeous, glistening ball of mozzarella di bufala in my fridge right now. If it were just me tonight, I would slice it up, sprinkle it with salt and pepper, drizzle my fresh new green olive oil on it, and finish it by sprinkling my sweet, syrupy balsamic vinegar on it. And that would be my dinner, with a glass of wine. Alas, I have to come up with something, you know, real for dinner. My grumbling aside, I prefer my life as it is. I’ll get so much more joy and pleasure using my creativity tonight and dining with my two favorite people on earth.

Bon appétit!

Children, learn from my mistakes

I had a hideous kitchen adventure last night that completely irked me. Remember I talked about buying The French Market by Joanne Harris and Fran Warde? Well, last night I made a recipe from it: Monkfish with Chanterelles. Only there aren’t chanterelles to be had this time of year so Adam bought baby portabellas instead. And this is where I made a gargantuan mistake: I bought the monkfish from Fresh Direct. I know, I know. It was completely asinine of me. Especially when Adam works across the street from Chelsea Market and could go to the fish monger there. And there’s actually a very nice fish monger, Forest Hills Fishery, just down the street from me. I can only claim laziness in its basest form.

So I get the fish, wrapped up in paper and sitting in a Styrofoam tray, from the refrigerator. The first thing I notice is that there’s a ridiculous amount of fish for just me and Adam. Fresh Direct screwed up and gave me 2 lbs. rather than 1 lb. So the fish ended up costing me $30. No biggie – I’ll just freeze half of it. I unwrap it all and think to myself that the filets are awfully thin for monkfish; they didn't seem to have monkfish's typically firm texture or pink color. But I push the thought aside and cook it, searing it for one minute on each side, as the recipe dictates. And the fish is nearly fully cooked and just falls apart on me as I transfer it to a plate. What??? Okay, monkfish, the “poor man’s lobster”, most definitely does not behave that way. It should not have flaked apart like that. Hmmm…I don’t think this is monkfish. Needless to say, the taste and texture confirmed it. I’m all irritated with Fresh Direct but, really, it’s my own fault. This is what laziness about my food will get me: really expensive monkfish-that’s-really-more-like-cod. My only remaining issue is whether Fresh Direct knowingly jacked me (twice!) or if this was an honest mistake*.

The meal ended up not being too bad, but the flavors and textures were rather odd together. The recipe says that the fish and mushrooms can be served over rice, steamed potatoes, or shell pasta. I chose to serve the mushrooms and non-monkfish over rice, but portabellas have such a deep, earthbound flavor that they didn’t mesh well with the rice – it would have been more successful over steamed fingerlings. The non-monkfish didn’t help – it’s extremely light, flaky texture and flavor were a poor match with the portabellas. Oyster mushrooms would have been nice with the cod-like fish.

You know, as a full-time working parent, I need to take shortcuts while cooking on the weekdays. But now I know that taking a shortcut in the selection of my ingredients is not the way to go. Especially for such a fresh, simple recipe. I was left feeling like a schmuck for making such a novice mistake. Kids, don’t try this at home.


* Epilogue: Adam emailed Fresh Direct and they refunded us the full $30.00 for the non-monkfish.

Kid lit and food collide...again…sort of

So with the husband gone all weekend, I thought the girls – my daughter and I – could do some shopping. We bought pear-scented conditioner for the kiddo, pajamas for both of us, and then hit Barnes and Noble. I know, B&N is evil. But as I’ve whined before, Queens seems to have no indies to speak of. Alas. So we’re in B&N and I drag the kiddo over to the cookbooks, promising her we’ll hit the kids’ section if she can behave while I peruse books for myself. And my rad daughter proceeds to take her journal out of her purse, sit down, and start writing with abandon. I had a ton of time.

See, I was on a mission: to buy a non-Food Network cookbook. I have cookbooks by Rachael, Ina, Michael (Chiarello), Tyler, Nigella, Jamie. I’m all about the celebrity chef. The only non-FN cookbooks I use on any kind of regular basis are by Patricia Wells*. So I decided I would blind-buy whatever cookbook caught my eye. I found a gem: The French Market: More Recipes from a French Kitchen. It was pure eye candy. And the recipes seemed real simple with really accessible ingredients. I snatched it up. So I’m flipping through it when I get home, and I become curious about who wrote the book: Joanne Harris and Fran Warde. Who are these women? Yep, it’s that Joanne Harris. You know, she wrote Chocolat** and, with the publication of Runemarks, she is now a YA author. Wow. I created this food/children’s literature blog because I couldn’t decide which I was more passionate about. But I keep finding that these subjects aren’t entirely exclusive. Which makes sense because food is truly all-important and of course it’s going to intertwine itself in every aspect of one’s life. If it doesn’t, then you need reassess your priorities.

So I can’t make anything from my new cookbook until Wednesday this week: I begin my French class at NYU on Monday and the husband is taking a class of his own on Tuesday. So we’re going to have to pull out the old warhorses at the beginning of the week: antipasti on Monday and poached eggs with creamy polenta on Tuesday. But come Wednesday…well, let’s just say you’re probably all going to want to come to my apartment for dinner. I’m just sayin’…

Wednesday: brioche with mushrooms/brioche aux champignons, salad with walnuts/salade aux noix

Thursday: cauliflower soup/soupe au chou-fleur

Friday: chicken breasts with Dijon mustard/poulet à la moutarde de Dijon, salad with an herb vinaigrette

Bon appétit!

* How telling that every single one of these chefs has a glossy, pretty website of their own!

** And this is actually Joanne Harris' second cookbook. The first one was The French Kitchen and it actually has a recipe for " Vianne's Spiced Hot Chocolate" from the movie, Chocolat. I know I spent my previous post practically bragging about my lack of a sweet tooth, but I think I have to make this hot chocolate at some point. How could I not???