Fresh Memories

I decided to make financiers again this afternoon, just as I had done two years ago at about this time, for Easter weekend as well. I pulled out the same recipe I had used then, from a past issue of Elle à table, and checked to see what I would need. I knew I still had some ground almond powder leftover from a past recipe, so I really would only need to get some strawberries at the market because I like to make the version with half a fresh strawberry planted in the middle of the almondy batter. [And as an aside, I scored some luscious early-season Gariguettes at the market, 4 barquettes for only 3 €! Still not sure what I'm going to do with the rest of them...] My financiers had been quite successful the first time around, and I had even made them a few times since then, but I think I'll always remember that first time, because it was one of the first pastries I had brought to contribute to a family meal at my in-laws' home in Le Havre... Two years ago this month, and I had also brought a tarte bourdaloue, recipe taken from the same magazine. I think I was feeling ambitious that weekend... Miraculously, both recipes had turned out well, and even though I was suspicious of the pear and almond tart results, it was scarfed up pretty quickly, which is always a good sign...

When I try to think back to that weekend, I don't remember many details, but it was one of the last times we spent with my mother-in-law before she passed away unexpectedly from a sudden and severe stroke. It was an enormous shock for my boyfriend's whole family, and I still recall that period like it was yesterday, stunned into such silence and pain for several weeks, trying to make some kind of sense of her loss. Even today I know it is still fresh and very painful for my boyfriend, and he often tells me of his desire to pick up the phone and share something with his mother -- and suddenly realizing that he can't do that, because she isn't there anymore...

You see, my mother-in-law was someone really, really special... Perhaps the exception to all those stereotypes we all hear about mothers-in-law. She was strong and supportive from the beginning of my relationship with her son, never suspicious and critical, and if anything she encouraged me in my new cooking and baking ventures, telling me to have more confidence, to not worry about every little detail like I tended to do. I would call her up for a small tip when trying a new recipe, and she would laugh and say, why, if I were doing that I would just improvise... She would reassure me and tell me that she was sure it would turn out great. Oftentimes it did, and to this day I think this was the case because of her words; I am so grateful for her support, for the short time that I knew her, for her trusting smile and her respectful warmth and discretion, always giving advice when needed but keeping a certain distance when things got délicat. I never knew anyone quite like her: she had such wonderful taste, chic and yet simple at the same time, warm and yet not afraid to say what she thought, a marvelous combination of her German heritage and her time spent in France for most of her life.

My boyfriend is still very attached to his German roots, in spite of spending his adult life in France, having grown up on French soil. He tries to go back to visit his uncle and cousins in Konstanz, on the border of Germany, Austria and Switzerland, whenever possible, but as you can imagine, it seems to be less and less in recent years... We made a brief trip there two years ago this past winter and had a wonderful time at the Karnival, visiting the region and spending time with his German family. I have vivid memories of the many pretzels and huge glasses of beer, my pathetic lack of skill with the German language, my struggle to breathe after eating so much for so long... (Man, can they put it away in Germany!)

Who would have ever thought that we would lose her so soon? We all have those fleeting thoughts of the things we would do if only we could be with that person again... I know she would have helped me to decorate our apartment, to choose curtains for the windows (Something I STILL haven't done! Maybe partially because she isn't here to share it with me...), to make it through the tough times in my pregnancy. She was a warm presence and shared so much with me in such a short time... I learned to use a Romertopf baking dish because of her, with the one she passed on to me, and took to preparing a pintade aux pommes et lardons on a regular basis, as I knew it was one of my boyfriend's and his father's favorite dishes. I plan on making one again this weekend, as a matter of fact...

Now if only I could find enough confidence to attempt the sacred linzertorte, the German tart that my boy's mother would bake for him every year, without fault, on his birthday and bring to him especially, even taking a train from Le Havre to Paris just to see him and to bring him his favorite dessert. This year his sister e-mailed me the recipe, but when we dashed off to visit his father again I didn't get a chance to give it a try the weekend of his birthday. I still plan on trying my hand at it, but I have to admit that I'm more than a bit intimidated, as I know how much he loved that tart, and how much he associates it with his mother and his memories of her.

I think of her so often when I'm in the kitchen, baking away. And I think of her now, as I head back into the kitchen to pour the financier batter into the baking molds. I know she would be happy for us, for the baby we are expecting and have desired together, and I know she would ease all of my fears about being a good mother.

I miss you, Brigitte.

A Perfect Day

Where did the last 10 days go?! I actually started writing this post on Sunday, when my thoughts were fresh and I was feeling good about the day I had just spent with my boy, but then the week got away from me, I didn't get a chance to develop my ideas, and this post fell by the wayside. All week long I've been wanting to post here, but either work or one of these headaches-from-hell would get in the way and keep me from expressing myself coherently. Wednesday was particularly hard -- I woke up feeling like a mack truck had run over me, and I dragged myself into the kitchen to have breakfast with my boyfriend, who had been awake for over an hour already and was as CHIPPER as a chipmunk. Have I mentioned before that he's more of a morning person?! And my bad influence has led him, on occasion, to stay in bed much longer than he ever did in the past when I first knew him. In any case, the poor thing had to tolerate my grumbling as I tried to get some coffee down my throat and figure out why my head felt like it was going to explode. Was it these supposed allergies? The bizarre weather? The wind, the humidity, the mold? Who knows... But it kept me in a nasty mood most of the day, and I still don't know how I made it through work at the office. And I had colleagues telling me how NICE I looked that day -- what's up with that?! Oh, the irony, I tell ya! Obviously I should have been flattered, yet somehow I was a bit suspicious... But they're convinced that this pregnancy is making me look as healthy as a freshly-bloomed spring flower, so I guess I should take it while I can get it...

[As an aside, my trip home in the RER on Wednesday night was kinda grueling -- I literally tried to coach myself as I walked up Avenue Hoche beforehand, muttering that for once I needed to be assertive and simply say, "S'il vous plaît, je suis enceinte, pourriez-vous me laisser une place ?" And yet once I was confronted with the situation, I stook there stupidly, with my coat hanging open, my admittedly small belly hardly noticeable to most people around me -- especially those who were markedly choosing to ignore me in the first place. I managed to score a seat after one stop down the line, but only because a few people got off the train. What a daily struggle!]

I'm officially in my 2nd trimester, you see -- actually, I'm officially five months along as of this week! -- so where in the heck is that wonderful energetic period I'm supposed to be experiencing?! Why am I STILL so tired all the time? I can only guess that part of the reason is this crappy March weather, and the fact that I'm desperate for warm spring weather to get here, that and the fact that I haven't been exercising much lately... Of course, I've never been the best about fitting in a regular exercise routine en temps normal, but somehow I think it would probably do me a lot of good. I've been putting off ordering a prenatal yoga video from Amazon for weeks, and yet I put it in my shopping basket ages ago... I have a colleague who swims at a local pool regularly, and she was very emphatic about the beneficial elements of swimming, both during pregnancy as well as any other ol' time. I already know how much my boy loves swimming, how much relaxation he gets out of it, but I tend to prefer the ocean to the chlorine of a strangely-lit public pool. Plus I'm just plain stubborn -- and lazy I guess! I should just bite the bullet and give it a try, though, because I need all the possible energy-producing solutions I can get my hands on, and I keep reading all over how good swimming is for us pregnant gals.

So that's one of my plans for tomorrow: to squeeze in an hour or so at a nearby pool with my boyfriend. He tries to go on a regular basis, but he's been a bit tired himself in recent weeks and has had a hard time motivating himself too. I'm going to try to convince him that it will be good for BOTH of us tomorrow... Even if last Sunday we were thrilled to stay home and just lay around and be our lazy selves. You see, last Sunday was the perfect day I'm referring to in my post title -- last Sunday was the day that originally inspired me to write this post...

When my boyfriend mentioned to me on Saturday evening that we might take a day trip on Sunday, I was torn between feeling excited about the potential of getting away for a change of air and the disappointment of once again missing the opportunity to prepare my long-delayed rabbit recipe... But somehow I should have known that the potential vague plans for "getting away" wouldn't probably pan out, either because of our bad habit of getting up late on Sunday mornings or because of the crummy gray weather -- in this case, it was a little bit of both! So we woke up well-rested around 10:00 (yes, I know, a luxury we need to enjoy while we can, given the fact that in less than five months' time those lay-ins will be over... and a distant memory!), had a leisurely breakfast (one of my favorite things to do on a Sunday) and then proceeded to rest and relax all afternoon long. I was relieved that we didn't have to rush anywhere, and I DID finally get to make that rabbit -- the recipe turned out to be ho-hum, though, which was a bit of a disappointment after all that anticipation, so I think I'm going to turn back to one of my tried-and-true recipes this weekend, one I'm sure to pull off with flying colors. I also managed to salvage some apples that were on their way out, slicing and dicing the suspicious parts in order to prepare a late-afternoon crumble. We watched From Here to Eternity on TV -- random chance, and believe it or not I had never seen it in its entirety! -- and then a DVD or two... It was SOOOO nice to just lay back and not think, just really RELAX and enjoy our time together. It was truly one of the nicest days I've spent in a while, and just thinking about it makes me smile. We just enjoyed each other's company, we were both in good moods -- it was just perfection!

I know, that's pretty pathetic -- an uneventful Sunday afternoon, full of nothing but laying around, watching movies and baking apple crumble constitutes the perfect day for me, right?! Yup. That's about it in a nutshell. Heck, I love to go see a show, visit a museum or spend time with friends as much as the next gal, but sometimes a weekend just calls for some real laziness. And last weekend was one of them.

This weekend promises to be about as uneventful, as my boy has to work on Sunday, which will probably guilt me into doing some more housecleaning. If I'm feeling inspired, I may just try to bake Clotilde's chocolate raspberry cake from her book, so I'll keep you posted! We will also be visiting some friends who just had their first baby, wee leetle Zoé (I love that name!), and I plan on taking lotsa photos! My boy seems a bit reticent, and I suspect it's because he's fearing the reality of holding that tiny one in his arms and realizing that if all goes well we'll be experiencing something very similar in a very short time.

Oh, and by the way, I think I felt the baby for the first time on Monday! I still can't quite describe the feeling, but words wouldn't do it justice anyway... It was odd, unexpected, surreal and comforting all at the same time -- the complex signs of so many more emotions to come...

Mon petit déjeuner idéal

Well, this is basically how I like to start out my day on the weekend -- truth be told, I'd love to be able to indulge in this kind of breakfast every day of the week, but in spite of getting up extra early I still can never manage to squeeze in enough time to eat more than a few slices of bread with some coffee before heading off to work. Sundays are my exception, though, and the photo above shows what I love to enjoy, slowly and preferably with a good book (or with my boy!), before lazing around the apartment or heading out, depending on my mood and my motivation level.

This photo was obviously taken a few months back, early September I believe, when it was still peach season, or the end of the season anyway... In today's case, the peach was replaced by a pink grapefruit (complete winter addiction, I can't seem to get enough of them!) and the coffee by a hot chocolate... I can't let a Sunday brunch go by without my oeuf à la coque -- although years ago I would have probably shrunk away in horror from a soft-boiled egg, these days I love scooping out the eggy goodness. Sea salt and freshly ground pepper make it all the better.

Anyway, I just wanted to share a tidbit from one of my favorite meals of the day -- of course, I'm a complete gourmande and love eating any meal, but breakfast just about tops the list for me. Funny thing is, back in the U.S. I loved breakfast too, but it usually consisted of bagels and cream cheese with orange juice, perhaps some coffee too. When I go back home to visit, I do love to have bagels then, but I don't necessarily miss them all that much over here, given the fact that the bread is so good. I've become a bit of a bread snob, though, because not just any ol' baguette will cut it for me anymore -- I like the good stuff! Perfect with salted butter and fig jam, my favorite. The baguette in the photo above is a multigrain one, and my boyfriend and I go out of our way to pick it up from a boulangerie that's not as convenient, but has just about the best bread in our neighborhood. So it's worth the walk in the cold...

Speaking of which, I'm off to toast myself up some warm baguette now, and to prepare some lentil soup. I need something comforting on this freezing Sunday! I plan on staying inside all day long... And if I'm feeling motivated enough, I might just make an apple-pear crumble with ginger. Ohhh, and I even have some speculoos in the cupboard -- the perfect crumble topping! Wake me up when it's time for breakfast again...

Velouté de butternut aux épices

* UPDATED - now with recipe! *

Last Thursday was All Saints' Day, a holiday here in France, so I had a quiet day at home with my boy. Halloween came and went this year and I hardly even noticed, which is unlike me. I usually love to take in the decorations and even attend a party or two, but that just wasn't in the cards this time around... I didn't hear from a friend of mine who usually holds an annual Halloween fête, so perhaps this year something came up -- last year I had a good time dressing up as a chat noir, but unfortunately I didn't yet have a camera so I wasn't even able to immortalize the hilarious moment. I had gone all-out with the makeup, so the look was pretty convincing. A friend of mine did take a photo, but then I never got to see it... Oh well! I sometimes miss the Halloween fun from back home in the States, and although in recent years the French have gotten more into the holiday, it's true that it just isn't quite the same. Granted, there's a lot of commercialism in the holiday itself, particularly in the U.S., but it's still a great opportunity for kids to have a blast dressing in costume. When I used to work in children's books I helped out with organizing a big annual Halloween party, and although I was always stressed about my own costume, I loved seeing the wee ones dressed to the nines, wearing face makeup and enjoying the candy.

Thursday afternoon I took my time preparing a wonderful new recipe (I tend to be very long in the kitchen anyway -- my boy always jokes that we don't eat before midnight some nights, which is only a slight exaggeration!), a spicy butternut squash soup that was rich, creamy and delicious. I have to credit French Saveurs magazine for this little gem, and I'll be sure to include the recipe here later today, once I get my hands on it again. This time around I also had a little helper, because a friend of my boy's came over with his son and he joined me in the kitchen. He watched me making my way around the tiny space, curiosity piqued, and asked all kinds of questions. When I opened up the squash and started cutting it into cubes, he seemed fascinated -- so I asked him if he'd like to help out a bit. "Why don't you start by scraping out all those seeds?" He willingly obliged, and concentrated on pulling out every last one of the seeds with his fingers and putting them in a small bowl. We toasted the seeds in a small pan with some salt, and after cooking down the squash in a mix of chicken stock and coconut milk, we puréeed the soup in a blender, added in the toasted squash seeds, some poitrine fumée, which is basically the French version of bacon, and some fresh cilantro leaves. Valentin, my kitchen aide, rinsed the cilantro while standing on a stool over the sink, as you can see in the photo, and pulled the leaves off the stems. He did this so carefully, and I was blown away by how meticulous he was about everything. When we served the soup at the end, he was thrilled by the result -- even if the curry and the ginger made it a bit spicy! "Ca pique, mais c'est pas grave !" He didn't seem to mind too much, and ate half a bowl on his own, adding in some extra seeds from time to time. The seeds reminded me of the pumpkin seeds my grandmother would roast in the oven when I was a little girl.

I had such a good time making this soup with Valentin, I couldn't resist starting over again on Sunday with a new batch. I had bought two butternut squash at the market last week, so I had enough to make two rounds. Unfortunately, for some reason the second squash had barely any seeds! Good thing I didn't use that one to make the soup with Valentin... Here he is, super-proud of his efforts. He's quite the little cook! Wish I had started this young...

Velouté de butternut aux épices

(Spicy Butternut Squash Soup)

"Délicieusement onctueux !"

1 medium-sized butternut squash (the recipe doesn't specify weight, but I think that the average-sized squash would do -- the soup only serves about four small bowls, and it is very rich)

1 tablespoon of curry powder (more or less -- this is actually a lot of curry powder, so the second time around I only used 1/2 tablespoon -- depends on how spicy you like it!)

1/2 teaspoon of ginger powder, or 1 teaspoon of freshly grated ginger

50 cl of chicken stock

1 small onion

10 cl of coconut milk or light cream (crème de fleurette) (again, depending on how creamy and rich you like it)

a few fresh cilantro leaves

2 tablespoons of grilled or toasted squash seeds

4 slices of poitrine fumée, or bacon

30 g of butter

Salt (which I actually found unnecessary with the chicken stock and the bacon slices)

Peel the butternut squash and cut it into small cubes. [Also, reserve the seeds inside the squash -- you can toast these later in a small pan, with some salt if you like.] Peel and finely chop the onion. Warm up the butter in a large pot or Dutch oven and cook the onion on light heat for about 3 minutes, until it is transparent or a bit soft. Add in the ginger and curry powder and cook for another minute or so, while stirring. Add in the butternut cubes and cook them for about two minutes, again while stirring with a wooden spoon or spatula. Pour in the chicken stock and the coconut milk or cream. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat and allow the soup to simmer for 20 minutes (until the squash cubes are nice and tender).

While the soup was simmering, I dry-roasted the squash seeds in a pan and then did the same with the slices of poitrine fumée until they were nice and toasty-brown and a bit crunchy.

Mix the soup in a blender or with an immersion blender (I know a regular blender is more high-maintenance, but I find it gives me better results, and the texture of the soup is creamier), add some salt if necessary. You can then serve the soup with a slice of the bacon in each bowl, or you can slice up the bacon into tiny pieces. Sprinkle on a few cilantro leaves and some toasted squash seeds, and voilà -- creamy, spicy butternut goodness!

* I found this recipe in French Saveurs magazine, november 2007.

The Most Amazing Meal

I made the most amazing meal Sunday night... I know, I know -- that sounds so incredibly immodest! But all I can say is that it wasn't due to any particular skills on my part: I think it was simply a question of quality of ingredients, which are oh-so-important, and a good, solid recipe. For once, Elle à table did not disappoint, as it has been wont to do in recent times, leaving me paging through looking for some real inspiration, as well as some recipes that I can actually use on a daily basis. I find that this particular magazine has a bad habit of presenting complicated, fancy-schmancy recipes that just don't hold up over time; they're either fads or of-the-moment trends and I simply don't want to pull them out time and time again to enjoy them. At least, this has been my most recent experience -- because actually, last year at about this time of year, I found loads of ideas in the Elle, and it was one of the motivations that got me back in the kitchen. But then for months on end it would let me down: I would pick it up, purchase the latest issue, and then prepare very few of the dishes. So why did I keep buying it? Good question, especially since now you can get most of the recipes on-line at their website. I guess I was just hoping that something would jump out at me, month after month...

And finally, it has! Part of it is probably this time of year: I've realized that I love the seasonal foods at the market in September, in spite of the fact that the summer is ending and we're having to put fresh peaches and strawberries behind us. They were all pretty disappointing this year anyway, in my humble opinion. But I can't get enough of the figs, I love apples and pears, and we're leading into the perfect season for dishes simmered in a Dutch oven. Yes, that's right: I'm excited to be using my cocotte ! I bought one almost six months ago, and it's just now that I'm able to make great use of it. When I saw the recipe on the pages Friday night, I knew this was going to be my weekend project... Add in the chocolate cake recipe a good friend passed on to me on Friday at work, and I had my own recipe for a Sunday afternoon in the kitchen.

[Ironically, I was convinced that the recipe I used on Sunday would be on-line as well, so I could link to it here, but unfortuantely it isn't! So I'll have to copy it over here...]

****

Voilà my new favorite dinner menu:

Salade de figues, poires et parmesan
(I adapted this for two persons, but the recipe below is for four)

4 nice-size figs
2 ripe pears
the juice from 1/2 lemon
30 grams of grated parmesan
2 teaspoons of olive oil
a few drops of balsamic vinegar
fresh ground pepper

After washing the fruit, you simply core and cut the pears in thin slices, and the figs in quarters. Then you sprinkle some lemon juice over the fruit, mix it carefully, and then lay the fruit out carefully on plates. Grate some fresh parmesan over the fruit, drizzle on some olive oil and just a few drops of balsamic vinegar. Serve immediately, with some fresh ground pepper.

And now, la pièce de résistance -- OK, don't freak out here -- it's rabbit! It's my first time preparing it, but it was truly wonderful. I can see some of you cringing now, but rabbit is a wonderfully delicious alternative to chicken or other poultry, and if the meat is prepared the right way, it can be really rich and tender! This recipe was just right.

Râbles de lapin aux carottes et aux pruneaux
(recipe serves four, so we had leftovers!)

4 pieces of the rabbit's "torso", basically -- the back or "saddle" of the rabbit -- 100 grams each
4 slices of bacon (poitrine fumée), 10 g each
6 prunes with the pits removed
12 carottes nouvelles (fresher carrots, still in a bunch)
8 fresh green oignons (also still in a bunch -- these melt and become tender!)
1/2 cube of chicken bullion (or fresh chicken stock, if you have it)
1 teaspoon of coriander seeds
2 tablespoons of olive oil
1 small bouquet garni (with bay leaves and flat parsley)
a few extra parsley leaves and some fresh ground pepper

[This takes a little over an hour to prepare in total, including the slicing of vegetables and the simmering of the rabbit in the cocotte, for about 40 minutes.]

You start by wrapping each râble with a slice of bacon; the sweet guy at the poultry stand gave me some ficelle to use to wrap around the râbles, because I didn't know where to find it myself... Then you wash and peel the carrots and the onions. You slice the carrots in thin discs and slice the largest of the green onions in half, leaving some of the green stem on them. Toast the coriander seeds in a hot pan, just to bring out the flavor, for a few minutes, and then reserve them for later. Brown the rabbit in the olive oil in the cocotte for a few minutes, and then add salt, pepper, the coriander seeds, carrots, onions, prunes, the bouquet garni and the 1/2 cube of bullion, crumbled up. At this point, you allow the ingredients to cook for about 5 minutes. The recipe says to pour in only about 20 cL of water, but I actually poured in more than half that -- about a half a liter -- I just wasn't sure if the carrots would cook well without a bit more water. In fact, this might not have been necessary, but I still thought everything turned out beautifully, so I feel like 20 cL is cutting it a bit short.

You allow the dish to simmer for about 40 minutes, and then serve, sprinkling some fresh parsley on top.

****

(both recipes are from Elle à table, septembre 2007)

So that's how I spent a good part of my day on Sunday. I did some much-needed housecleaning as well, things I had been putting off for weeks, I'm ashamed to say. I finally scrubbed my oven and vaccumed the apartment from top to bottom. It was a great sense of accomplishment, and it laid the foundation for an evening of cooking satisfaction. I baked the gâteau au chocolat in the late afternoon, and then set to work on dinner at around 6:30 or so -- I may have gotten a bit of a late start, but I figured we never eat before 9:00 on Sundays anyway, so it wasn't a big deal.

I had never cooked rabbit before -- I can hear you gulping and gasping now! -- but it was just so good. Tender and tasty, worth the effort. But what am I talking about? There was hardly any effort involved, aside from the prep work: the slicing of the carrots and onions, the wrapping of the rabbit with the bacon... I was also pleased because the family that runs the chicken stand at the market are the greatest, and the father had passed on some string for me to use in my cooking. He explained the different parts of the rabbit, and how they're prepared. I had never heard the word râble before, so this was a new one for me.

The combination of flavors -- what can I say? It was heavenly... I haven't made a main dish that was this satisfying in a long time. My old stand-by these days is a dish that my boy's mother made years ago, one of his all-time favorites: pintades aux pommes et lardons. But this rabbit dish, simmered in the Dutch oven with carrots, spring onions, coriander seeds, parsley, bay leaves and prunes was the perfect concoction. As it bubbled away on the stovetop, the scent of the different ingredients wafted around the apartment and just blew me away. I couldn't wait to dig into it! And my expectations were more than met: the taste was just as good as the scent. My boyfriend loved it. I haven't heard him compliment me on a meal that much in a long time. (And it was even better the next day as my leftover lunch...) He thought the entrée was a bit more suspicious, so he wasn't as excited about that. I actually loved it myself. It was more of a savory fruit salad, a combination of pears, figs and freshly-shaved parmesan, along with a drizzling of olive oil, a sprinkling of fresh pepper and a few drops of balsamic vinegar. He thought it seemed more like a dessert, but of course it's the parmesan that makes it an appetizer. Fresh, fragrant and light -- what could be better?

I took a few photos, but I don't know if they're worth posting, because as I mentioned we ate at 9:00, so obviously there was no more natural light, and the pictures under bright fluorescent lightbulbs leave much to be desired. So you'll just have to imagine them... Trust me, it was unforgettable!

Weekend Windup... And A Lemon Baking Frenzy

Our toaster had been on the fritz most of this past week, only producing burnt baguette slices or never even spitting out the bread and subsequently sending smoke swirling all around the apartment... (and as a result I don't know if I'll ever be able to get rid of that smoky smell -- even after airing out the rooms all day on Saturday!) So after doing my regular shopping at the market on Saturday afternoon (trying really, for once, to restrict myself to the things on my list, and perhaps a few extra pieces of fruit, because I had let far too much go to waste last weekend, or things had gone bad far too quickly -- and I really need to stick to a budget!) and picking up some necessities at the grocery store, I also broke down and got a new, but inexpensive, toaster as well.

Now, I know I probably should have tried to get a secondhand one or found out if someone I knew had an extra one on hand, but I will admit here, sheepishly, that I'm an extremely impatient person (have I mentioned that before?!), and I just didn't know if I could hold out for even a few days without my morning toast... So I studied the various boxes on the shelves and figured I didn't need any fancy extras, like plastic prongs to grab the toast -- "a guarantee against ever burning your fingers!" according to the packaging -- or a supposed shelf on top of the toaster for reheating croissants and other pastries... I just needed your basic toaster, albeit with fairly wide slots for baguette-style bread. I managed to find one that wasn't too pricey, but even as I brought it home I felt guilty about the extra expense. I keep thinking of Riana and her Slow Year and how I had hoped to join in as well (ah, good intentions...), and yet I'm struggling with my own nature, fighting with myself and trying to be more economical, knowing that one of these days my spending in the moment is going to catch up with me... I agree that since my move to France I've gradually acquired better eating habits, and I've realized that in fact I need less and less, and I'm trying to cut out extra unnecessary spending. Seeing gals like her accomplish so much and feeling so fulfilled as a result, being happy with what she has and how she can make better use of everything, is a real inspiration to me.

But again, I do tend to use a toaster pretty much every day, so this was how I justified the purchase to myself. I still haven't taken it out of the box, though, because I just want to be absolutely sure I didn't get it on a whim...

In the meantime, I spent the rest of the day baking, and it hit me while I was in the kitchen, totally out of the blue, that I really do prefer baking to cooking on the whole. I've enjoyed getting into cooking over the last two years, after letting someone else do the hard work for so long, but I think that it's baking that really does it for me. And I guess it has something to do with the calming effect kneading dough has on me, actually getting the consistency and the texture just right, feeling it between my fingers and knowing I've done this myself. I know a lot of food bloggers have written beautiful things about this concept, but I think it doesn't really sink in until you've experienced it yourself and sensed the full effect of baking -- that is, if you're anything like me! I know we all have different impressions about these sorts of things, but maybe deep down inside of me I've inherited this quirk from my mother as well. For years I denied the fact that I could even cook or bake, and convinced myself that it simply wasn't in my genes. But that probably had a lot to do with my lack of self-confidence and my simmering self-doubt. It may be the precision of the process (I am a perfectionist, after all), the measuring of the ingredients and getting the balance of ingredients just right that does it for me; or perhaps it's just that first taste, when the cookies or cake have come out of the oven and I realize that something magical has taken place...

And I've got a thing about lemon; who knows why?! I've baked a basic lemon pound cake (or more accurately a quatre-quarts au citron, as I'm following a French recipe and using a kitchen balance) at least a dozen times in the last year, varying it only slightly, adding poppy seeds from time to time or a dash more fresh lemon juice) but it was the discovery of lemon butter cookies that really got me -- the flakiness of the butter, the zing of those grated lemon zests, and the perfect punch of that fleur de sel. The day I started grating lemons for my recipes was like a huge revelation for me -- you mean you actually put the lemon's skin in there?! And how satisfying is it to grate away at the lemon zest? Seriously, what an eye-opener, I kid you not... [and although you may be laughing at me right now, chuckling over there in front of your computer screens, I was reassured to know that I was not alone in this department when I ran into a gal last night who asked me if I had actually used "fresh lemons" in the cake I had baked!]

After baking my lemon cake once again yesterday afternoon and pulling it out of the oven, I couldn't resist diving into Clotilde's lemon butter cookie recipe from her book; I've been wanting to bake these little beauties for months now, but I was always either lacking the motivation or the time. The recipe is a variation of the lemon butter cookie recipe on the Chocolate and Zucchini blog, and I got such a kick out of getting the ball of cookie dough just right between my fingers, kneading it and figuring out whether to add in a dash of cold water or a touch of flour. And when you actually taste the cookies?! Seriously, the perfect balance of chewiness, flakiness and crispiness (is that a word?) all rolled into one! The lemon, butter and salt just sing together. Plus, they're bite-size, so you don't feel as guilty when you eat several at a time. While I was on vacation in Noirmoutier I was seeking out the perfect sablé in the local shops but never came across just the right one. I knew I would be bringing back some fleur de sel, and if there's one thing I firmly believe should be in every kitchen, it's these crystal flakes (they're wonderful with chocolate as well). As a matter of fact, the next time I go home to the States, I've got to bring some home to my mother. I'll make a mental note of that...

Now, my cookies didn't end up looking nearly as perfect as the gorgeous photos of Clotilde's sablés in the book (mine were a bit oddly misshapen!), but what's great about these kinds of pastries is just how appealing the cookies are in their imperfect shape -- there's something rustic and unique about them that emphasizes their homemade, hand-baked simplicity.

And if there's one thing I can say for sure, it's that I will be enjoying Clotilde's book for months, if not years, to come... It took me some time to actually get around to using some of the recipes, but now that I've started, I think I'm going to have a hard time stopping any time soon! So far I've only tried out a few, but I can attest to the fact that her crumble aux courgettes, figues et mozzarella is perfectly marvelous, a taste combination that I never could have imagined on my own but that makes your tastebuds sing. And I'll be testing our her baked ratatouille recipe later on this week. Tonight it's her fail-proof poulet de Muriel, another weekend regular.

My baking saved me from myself this weekend; otherwise, I probably would have gotten caught up in my permanent state of introspection and reflection. I can only hope that the baking, as well as other interests and occupations, will continue to fulfill me and take my mind off heavier concerns in the months ahead.

A Taste of Home

Saturday afternoon I prepared a simple summer lunch for my boy and me, happy and relieved that for once we could spend a weekend together and just relax and wile the time away, doing nothing in particular. We so rarely get to do this! I had been to the local market in the morning and had stocked up on some much-needed fruit and veggies, including the requisite melons and peaches for this time of year, as well as some end-of-season mara des bois strawberries and some lovely tomatoes. Probably not my best market run by far, but still a fair one, with enough goodies to keep us set for at least a few days.

I also treated myself, for the first time in a while, to two cheeses from the fromager, something I don't do very often simply because the cheese can sometimes be quite pricey. I try to save excellent cheese like that for special occasions, like when we have guests over for dinner -- but this weekend together seemed like a special occasion to me, so I splurged. We already had some coulommiers in the refrigerator that some hotel guest had asked my boy to throw out (*gasp! the horror!*) and which he slipped into his bag and brought home. So I picked up a nice chunk of vieux comté and a small sliver of gouda au cumin. I was also tempted by a chèvre but figured I better limit myself, because the last time I went crazy on the cheese we never finished it and it stayed in the fridge for far too long. (I have to add here that this cheese splurge was also partially inspired by the wonderful posts over at Chez Loulou, who has a weekly cheese celebration, and Amy at C'est la me... who does some occasional wine and cheese pairings.)

So we had our melon et jambon de parme combination along with these lovely cheeses, some fresh bread, as well as a simple baby spinach salad mixed with cherry tomatoes and a shallot-infused vinaigrette. Simple, fresh, but filling. The night before I had thrown together the same salad I had brought with me to Katia and Kyliemac's Bastille Day picnic: tomatoes, cucumber, feta cheese, fragrant olive oil and cilantro. I swear, I never tire of summer meals! (Can you tell?!)

Midway through the meal, it hit me that I was dying to make my mother's famed Steamed Shrimp Macaroni Salad -- it had been far too long since I had thrown together a batch, and I had just so happened to pick up some shrimp on my morning shopping trip. Of course, this recipe is difficult to replicate here in France, namely because I don't have easy access to the key "secret" ingredient: Old Bay seasoning, something any true Marylander and Chesapeake Bay resident has in her kitchen closet/pantry. But lo and behold, I had (for once) cunningly picked up a bottle of the seasoning last summer and had been waiting for just the right opportunity to make good use of it.

Now, every summer I get a craving for the one thing I simply cannot have here in France, and the one food that I always say I so desperately miss: Maryland steamed crabs. I unfortunately won't be making it back home this summer for my crab fix, but shrimp comes a close second. And like I mentioned in my earlier post, the pathetic tourteaux they have here just don't come anywhere near the beauty of Maryland crabs, and of course they are all missing the spices the crabs are steamed in back home. Over the years I've gotten more and more addicted to spicy food, and now Old Bay just seems like child's play to me -- but it does pack a punch if you're not used to the spicy stuff! And I know the French don't tend to like spicy things in general. (On a side note, this reminds me of a French joke I heard ages ago, "Manger épicé en même temps, ce n'est pas facile" which is basically just a silly play on words -- it sounds like "Manger et pisser en même temps, ce n'est pas facile"... Translates to "Eating spicy food at the same time isn't easy" but also sounds like "It's not easy to eat and pee at the same time" -- Don't mind me, guess that was altogether off-subject -- but it made me laugh to myself!)

Oh, so getting back to the subject at hand: my mom's shrimp salad recipe! I did copy it down years ago, and like I said, I don't get to dig it out all that often, but I decided I need to start making more dishes that remind me of home and that may also be appealing to my boy and his family. This salad of course makes for a great vacation dish, is a big hit at picnics, and given the fact that I'm trying to assemble some good vacation recipes for my trip down to the Atlantic Coast in August, this seemed like the perfect addition. It's easy and quick to put together (the longest part is probably just peeling all the shrimp and dicing the veggies) and you can make lots of it at once! Depending on how much you need, of course. My mom's recipe serves about four as an accompaniment, less as a main dish.

In fact, this recipe may appeal to those back home in the U.S. who can get their hands on the Old Bay seasoning, but for my expat readers here in France, it may leave you wanting! I'm afraid I don't have any suggestions for a substitute, aside from perhaps some paprika or a spice of your choice -- but again, to my mind, it just wouldn't be the same. In fact, the shrimp at home in Maryland is actually steamed in Old Bay, and then of course my Mom adds more into the recipe, so it's doubly delicious!

So without further ado (finally, I know!), voilà the classic Steamed Shrimp Macarani Salad:

1 pound (about 500 grams) steamed shrimp, peeled and deveined

8 oz. elbow macaroni (also not quite the same in France, but any pasta resembling macaroni is fine, of course!), cooked, drained and rinsed

3/4 cup mayonnaise (again, my Mom's notation here is for "Hellman's real" mayonnaise, which just makes me chuckle... in France, of course, most people make their own mayonaisse, but I'm not going to quibble with that -- and I have to admit that I cheated and used bottled mayonnaise myself)

2 tbsp. vinegar

1 tbsp. mustard (also not the same here -- I brought back some French's mustard from home, but I imagine Dijon would work just fine, although it might just give it all the more of a kick!)

1 tsp. sugar

1 tsp. salt

1/8 tsp. pepper (2 pinches)
1/2 tsp. Old Bay seasoning, or to taste

1 cup sliced, chopped celery

1 cup chopped green or sweet red pepper

1/4 cup chopped onion

In a large bowl, stir together mayonnaise, vinegar, mustard, sugar, salt and pepper until smooth; add in Old Bay seasoning last. Add macaroni, celery and onion; toss to coat well.

At this point, I cut the shrimp in half, and sprinkle some additional Old Bay seasoning on them, as they haven't been steamed in the spice here in France. Then you add the shrimp into the salad, stir together once again, cover and chill in the refrigerator until serving.

Enjoy! I don't know about you, but this sure reminds me of home...

A Weekend of Good (Comfort) Food

I wanted to write a little about the foods I enjoyed, not this past weekend -- at least, not yet -- but some wonderful bits and bobs that I savored about two months ago, just before my boy ended up in the hospital (long story, for another time) and things went a little topsy-turvy in my life. (This post has found itself in rough versions several times and I thought I would never finish it!) I'm actually nibbling on one of my terrible péchés mignons right now, something I tend to crave from time to time, and a treat that I never seem to be able to stop myself from indulging in: saucisson sec. So as I sit here guiltily chomping down on my saucisson and salted butter on toast, I thought I would share some wonderful comfort foods I prepared a few months back, foods that cheered me up on a lousy, cold, grey weekend -- and how à propos that today, in late May, it is once again cold and grey -- and rainy! Ah, Paris...

Of course, as we all know, "comfort food" comes in all shapes and forms, and I don't even know how exactly you can define it, but apparently someone has on Wikipedia:

Comfort food
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

"The term comfort food refers to any food or drink to which one habitually turns for temporary respite, security, or special reward. The reasons that something becomes a comfort food are diverse but include the food's familiarity, simplicity, and/or pleasant associations. Small children often seem to latch on to a specific food or drink (in a way similar to a security blanket) and will repeatedly request it in high stress situations. Adults, however, are certainly not exempt.
A substantial majority of comfort foods are composed largely of simple or complex carbohydrate, such as sugar, rice, refined wheat, and so on. It has been postulated that such foods induce an opiate-like effect in the brain, which may account for their soothing nature."

I guess this is not so much a definition of what comfort food is exactly but what the expression refers to, and how certain foods with assocations become a form of comfort to us. What comes to mind for me is my mom's macaroni and cheese, how it's perfect every time and just somehow so reassuring, no matter what time of year it is (God, I miss that stuff!). More recently, comfort foods have taken on a whole new meaning to me, especially since I started cooking. I don't know what I would have done without this cookbook over the past two winters in France; it has become my kitchen bible, and I guess it helps that I'm a big fan of soups, both hot and cold. And what's more comforting than soup? I'm always curious to try new combinations and experiment with different ingredients, probably also due to the fact that I used to buy a lot of my lunchtime homemade soups at a little sandwicherie at métro stop 4 septembre in Paris, a place called Stanie's run by a young couple who used to work in advertising and decided to start a business of their own (I no longer work in their neighborhood, so I don't get to eat there as often, and I sure miss it...). I could never get enough of Rebecca's homemade soups, whether it was lentil with coconut in the dead of winter or cold, rich avocado soup with a splash of lemon juice in the summer (that stuff was to die for, trust me, and I've never been able to replicate it, to this day; I seriously licked the bowl...). I don't tend to experiment much in the kitchen at all, as I'm not yet confident enough to do so. But I do like to add in a bit more of this or that when I'm making a new soup. I'm a big fan of carrot soup with coconut milk and fresh cilantro (pretty Thai-inspired, I guess), and just two weeks ago I made a variation of the cold avocado soup with cucumber and tomato juice ice cubes (it was quite intriguing, I promise...) based on a recipe in this magazine. But the book Soupes du jour is SO easy to follow, it's a no-brainer; you simply can't screw any of these recipes up!

This late March afternoon found me preparing a batch of rich, heavy lentil soup (page 26). In my mind there is nothing quite so nourishing, or comforting, as lentil soup, especially paired with some refreshing cilantro leaves. Since I discovered it, as soon as the weather turns grey and cold outside I throw some together to keep me warm on the inside. The fresh green cilantro brightens up what might not look so appetizing at first, but once you spoon some of this into your mouth, you won't regret it! And it's the simplest thing to make; you just have to be patient enough to allow the green lentils to simmer away for about an hour. I do tend to use the lentilles vertes du Puy, even though they are a bit more expensive, if only because the flavor seems to be richer and the lentils themselves seem to hold up better over time.

That same weekend I also made one of my best apple crumbles in a while. Ironically enough, when I was growing up I wasn't a big fan of anything apple-based, especially baked apples, apple pie, or anything of the like. I can't quite explain why; it just didn't do anything for me... But you know how our tastes change with time (as Aussie Lass has also recently reminded us over in her digs)! I wish I had a nickel (or a Euro for that matter) for every time I've realized that I actually like something I used to insist I didn't like in the past... The list could go on forever -- and I'd be pretty rich!

I used my favorite salted butter (I'm partial to Grand Fermage's Butter with sea salt from Noirmoutier) and added in a pinch of cinnamon and ginger. This baby didn't last long at all! Talk about warm comfort... Add some crème anglaise or vanilla ice cream, and we have a winner.

In between my own time spent in the kitchen, my boy and I also went back to one of my very favorite neighborhood haunts in the 18th arrondissement, a tiny family-run restaurant that became my cantine for almost two years. I even celebrated my 30th birthday there: it's called Le Potager. I don't often get the opportunity to go back these days, now that I'm out in the 'burbs, but anytime I'm craving a nice, reasonably-priced meal, I make a reservation. And anytime I have friends coming into town, I always recommend a stop there. As a matter of fact, when Emily was in town about two weeks ago with her friend Dawn, we met up at métro Abbesses and enjoyed a nice, filling dinner. Every time I go, I absolutely cannot pass up their oeuf cocotte au foie gras; it's to die for! One of my all-time favorite entrées...

I can't get enough of it, and I find myself scraping out the bottom of that ramequin to make the pleasure last. I imagine it must be easy to prepare at home, and it's certainly not made with the finest of foie gras, but the combination of flavors is deliciously rich -- and comforting! There's hardly enough room for a main dish after that, but you're talking to a real gourmande here, so there's no way I'm going to pass up more food! I also highly recommend their magret de canard, served with either a honey, blackberry or fig (my fave) sauce. And they have these wonderful main dishes that consist of various tartine combinations, including a melted goat cheese with cumin. The names of these tartines are all a play on words, like "la Mère Veille" or "la Mère Cedes".

For such a tiny establishment, they have a real following, and it's almost impossible to get a table à l'improviste. That's why I try to reserve either the day before or the same day, earlier in the evening. But if you're going to be passing through Montmartre in the near future, give it a try! I'm pretty sure you won't be disappointed...

* Comfort Foods image courtesy of smileandactnice.com.

Busy but Bluesy

While I'm sure everybody and their mother (brother?) will be talking about the French election results today (surprised, anyone?), I just wanna ramble a bit about my busy weekend for once. Well, moderately busy anyway, for a regular ol' casanière like me.

[And I know I should be updating this bloggie thingie more often -- please bear with me, as I'm trying to get into the swing of the blogger world, and I'm often hesitant to write about something that may bore you all to tears... But I'm working on this!]

I tend to look forward to event-filled weekends, but then the activities and outings quickly come and go, and I only have the long week ahead to dread. Like a kid again, I count down the days to when I can sleep in and really enjoy the time spent under the warm comforter, in bed, or lounging around the apartment with a good book.

Of course, thank goodness, with France and the French system, we have another national holiday (and I realize we have our American and European ancestors to thank for this one too...) tomorrow, so that breaks things up a bit this week. After my three late nights in a row this past weekend, I really need another sleep-in!

Friday night saw me joining a good French friend of mine for her 30th birthday celebration in a posh little Italian restaurant in the 8th arrondissement, not far from my work address, to be honest (but not exactly a typical haunt for me -- I felt a wee bit out of place...). But rather than stay in the neighborhood after I got off at 6:00 and make good use of my time, I got it into my head that I absolutely had to go home first to change, to harangue my boyfriend a bit, and then turn around and head back into the city for the party around 9:00. Again, I'm full of brilliant ideas like that! So of course after taking the RER home I found myself frantically running around the apartment, trying to do things that were completely unnecessary at the time (will I ever change?) while my boy reminded me that time was ticking by... And in the end all I really did was change into a pair of jeans, which was the one smart move, as it had started to rain and my bare legs would have frozen if I hadn't changed out of my steel grey skirt into something more sensible.

And I had a great time, in spite of the fact that I didn't know most of the people there, but the meal was nice and I was glad to finally catch up with my friend a bit (even if it wasn't easy with all those people there -- what were they thinking?!). With any luck we're going to try to get together again really soon anyway, so we'll be able to catch up on more serious things, like when and how she got back together with her (former ex-) boyfriend!

After dragging myself out of bed on Saturday to make my regular tour of the local market, I managed to do a bit of housecleaning, albeit not enough (when is it ever enough?!), and then later in the afternoon my boy and I left to meet some friends to see Spiderman 3 on the Champs. Not where we would normally go to see a flick, but we all had Gaumont movie cards, and it was just the most convenient meeting point. We were both looking forward to this movie, not the least for the entertainment and distraction factors, just a break away from our everyday life. And it definitely delivered! We ended the evening with some nice Lebanese cuisine nearby (it's not easy to find a reasonably-priced restaurant in that neighborhood, trust me, so we gave up on it...), although I've definitely had better Lebanese before. But it was the perfect no-frills evening out.

And Sunday was of course filled with the suspense leading up to the election results, even if most people claimed to already know who was going to win... Still, unexpected things can happen, and even though that wasn't the case this time around, I still wouldn't have been surprised if there had been a last-minute breakthrough, if you see what I mean. We had a light dinner with some friends in Saint-Cloud while everyone watched the results and subsequent commentary. I had had enough after only an hour or so, but we of course had to zap back and forth between all the major French news channels so as not to miss any details. I was hoping that things would calm down once the election was over, but I get the impression that it's only the beginning, if the articles in the press today are any indication, and that things are going to be boiling for weeks to come, particularly with the imminent legislative elections, which will determine whether Sarkozy will even be able to carry out any reform in the near future. And of course everyone is saying that his first "100 days" in office will be critical to his presidency as a whole. I don't know what to expect at this point, but I can only hope that he will stick to his promises as much as possible and at least make a concerted effort to bring about positive change for France, a country in desperate need of reform. I've been on the fence the whole time myself, so I honestly don't know how I feel about the results.

I also managed to squeeze in some cooking yesterday afternoon, as I wanted to at least have some pre-prepared small meals ready for my lunch-hour at work. So I took another stab at the zucchini crumble I made two weeks ago -- and I have to say, I think this recipe is going to become a regular staple around here... Inexpensive, really quite easy, and a delicious way to eat zucchini! For those who are interested, it basically requires about 4 zucchini, one onion, one shallot, some fresh basil leaves (or frozen if you don't have any on hand-- I buy mine at the market!), salt & pepper of course, olive oil, about 60-80 grams of parmesan (preferably freshly grated), 80 grams of butter (I used salted butter) and 120 grams of flour. After thinly slicing the onion and shallot, you toss them into a skillet with heated olive oil, and then gradually add in the thinly sliced zucchini as well. (To vary things, sometimes I slice the zucchini into small cubes.) In the meantime, you try to remember to turn the oven on to pre-heat at 180° Celsius (I'm afraid I'm unsure of the Fahrenheit equivalent at this point!).

After allowing the zucchini, onion and shallot to mingle together and simmer covered for 5 to 10 minutes, you can remove them from the heat, mix in the fresh basil (also diced thinly) and parmesan, as well as a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Then you prepare the crumble part, which is easier to do if the butter itself is already at room temperature, blending together with the flour between your fingers. I get a kick out of this part, running my fingers through the mixture until it's just the right texture. Finally, you scoop the warm vegetable mix into a gratin dish and spread the crumble mix over the top, and slip the dish into the oven for 25-30 minutes. I end the baking time with 5 minutes under the grill so the crumble is a bit crunchy and nicely toasted on top. But you might have to keep a close eye on your oven, depending on how finicky it is (mine is completely unpredictable!). And voilà, a yummy veggie dish that I'm sure any zucchini lovers will enjoy... And all you veggie-haters out there might even give it a chance!

So that was my weekend in a nutshell... And the reason why I say it was "bluesy" in spite of all the busy-ness is simply the fact that I couldn't seem to settle my mind, with all the thoughts and emotions whirling around about the uncertainties in our (my boyfriend's and my) future... We have a certain number of decisions to make, and I'm just feeling completely overwhelmed by the weight of it all. I'm hoping and praying that somehow things will come together for the best on their own, but then again I've learned the hard way that no decision comes without some trial and error, and also that it's not all going to magically happen on its own, without some hand-wringing and struggle on our part. I guess we're probably going to have to take some risks, while it's still possible, and believe in what the future holds for us. I know I'm being a bit vague again, but let's just say that we're realizing more and more how important good health and peace of mind is, much more so than the price of sacrificing yourself for people who don't appreciate your work and efforts... And not getting much out of the deal in the long run either.

Here's hoping that we'll have more and more "busy-ness" ahead, but without the blues...

Gratin Goodness

Last night I whipped up wonderful Clotilde's no-fail, no-fuss gratin de chou-fleur for the second time in two weeks. Both times I also sprinkled on a handful of lardons, just to add some extra zip and to round out the meal a bit (namely for my large-appetite-inclined male counterpart). I think I may finally be making my first steps toward training the boyfriend as well -- he trimmed, rinsed and steamed the cauliflower florets before I made it home from my English session (the nightmarish one with the little know-it-all French boy from hell who thinks he exists to teach me a lesson).

So all I had to do when I walked in the door was prepare the béchamel, drizzle it over the cauliflower, add some shredded cheese and bread crumbs, and pop the gratin dish into the oven for 20 minutes.

WHEW! So satisfying... Maybe even enough to erase monster-boy from my memory, at least for the moment.

Until next time, that is.

Roasted Revelation

Thank God for the calming qualities, the sheer healing power of good food. If it weren't for the simple magic of my meal on Sunday evening, I don't know how the day would have ended... And thank goodness I can also manage to distract myself from my current daily nuisances, (albeit by eating, which is not always the recommended solution!) because I honestly don't know how I would get by otherwise...

But how wonderful is it when you get to work on a new recipe, when you settle down to the actual cooking process, and you actually manage to put together a really great meal WITHOUT BENDING OVER BACKWARDS? OK, I'm starting to sound like Martha Stewart here, or one of those how-to cooking magazines, but seriously...

I had had the day from hell, finally attacking my long-overdue housecleaning from top to bottom, and after discovering the creeping growth of MOLD on more than one wall in my apartment*, all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die.

So what did I do to get my mind on other things? I pulled out the ingredients I had (for once) so cunningly gathered together on Saturday morning at the local market, and in less than an hour and a half, my blue-eyed companion and I were digging into an absolutely scrumptious rôti de veau aux épices. I should have known before I even got started that this recipe had all the makings of a winner: cinnamon, check! ginger, check! fresh cilantro, check! cumin, check! Oh, and not to mention that garlic clove, the organic lemon and the red onion. All mingled together in a heavenly sauce that simmered over the stove for less than an hour, and was then poured over a bed of couscous semolina with raisins and almond slivers. Ahhhhh... All the bad karma of that whole day just melted away, and I wanted that meal to last forever! And what made it even better was the simple fact that I had prepared it myself.

Plus, the presentation, further evidence that this recipe is a keeper: once you lay out the slices of veal on the couscous, you sprinkle some fresh cilantro over the top, and voilà, a work of art!

Oh, and one final thank-goodness for French butchers: that veal roast might have cost me a pretty penny, but it was oh-so-tender, so definitely worth every Euro.

For once, I was actually looking FORWARD to my leftovers at lunch yesterday...

I think I'm (finally!) getting the hang of this cooking thing... (Then again, don't ask me about the pork roast I mangled 2 weeks ago -- that's another story for another time.)

If interested, click on this so you can share in my delight!

* The withering letter I sent out to our rental agency today, registered with return receipt, also helped me get out of my funk -- at least for the moment. We'll see if it gets anywhere... These are the people, after all, who told me that I shouldn't be calling and bothering the landlord so often when our apartment was BURGLED last summer! God forbid I do anything other than write them their rental check en bonne et due forme on the 1st of every month.