The Flexitarian Cook

2 January 2013

Wow.

Hard for me to believe as it may be, this blog is two years old today. What started as a new year’s resolution in 2011 has evolved into a repository of stories and recipes, and has also served as a wonderful way for me to keep track of time through food and seasons.

While I will confess that it does at times feel like an obligation to write (and I have been silent for weeks at a time whenever I have felt less than inspired), it is mostly a pleasure to communicate in this way, even if digital space is a vast and anonymous universe. I personally know some of the readers of this blog, but for the most part, I have no idea who checks in, who reads these posts (regularly or only occasionally), and who tries the recipes I write. If you do and I haven’t heard from you yet, please consider this an invitation to make yourself known. You don’t have to write any kind of lengthy comment, just something short to let me know you’re out there and enjoying (or not) what you see.

This year promises to be interesting. On the last day of 2012, I got a package in the mail from my wonderful sister Brigitte, which contained (along with other cool things like a CD by Les Ramoneurs de Menhirs (Breton punk), some unrefined sea salt from Brittany and other yummy Breton stuff) a bag of this:

Dried seaweed blend

The mix contained therein is comprised of sea lettuce, dulse and nori. It tastes like the ocean, and I can’t wait to try it in some scrambled eggs, or sprinkled on steamed fish, or in salad dressing. It is definitely something I am thrilled to have in my ever-growing spice pantry.

In other news, I should report on a few experiments started last summer: plum vodka and vin de cerisier.

The plum vodka was a resounding success, and also one of the homemade gifts that the over-21 attendees at our Christmas dinner got to take home – along with some plum jam. It tastes fruity, sweet but not cloying, and definitely packs a punch. It is a sipping liqueur, much in the vein of Grand Marnier in that respect. On top of which, it looks pretty:

My friend Deb knew what she was doing when she gave me those glass bottles for my birthday. Well played, Deb. Well played.

I already have requests for more. I’m hoping our plum tree gives again generously this summer.

The vin de cerisier also came out really well, but I did not make enough of that to go around. All I have is one bottle, out of which I can share a little glass with guests when they visit. Its rarity makes it all the more precious, and all the more enjoyable. I had also made a vin de pêcher in the same fashion, with peach tree leaves, which is also very tasty (and equally rare in my cellar). I will definitely be making more of that this year, so I can spread the joy a little more.

Come to think of it, this could be my new year resolution: keep writing, keep cooking, and keep preserving things in sugar and/or alcohol so I can share them with the people I love. I can think of worse ways to spend my time.

How about you?

Today being the day of the other réveillon (New Year’s), I thought I would give a quick report on the Christmas banquet (twenty-one of us at the table). It was a wonderful night of family, friends, food and festive drinks. My adorable four year old niece wrote the customary (in our family) letter to Santa:

Santa's response: sugar cookies

Le Père Noël came and went, and once again, I could not catch a glimpse of him. What a pity.

With all the merry making, there wasn’t much time to take a lot of pictures of food, but I did manage to snap a couple of shots of one dish, the gratin dauphinois. This is a French classic, exceedingly easy to make, even if you don’t own one of these:

A mandolin makes slicing the potatoes a breeze.

With only a few ingredients (potatoes, milk, cream, garlic and cheese), it is the kind of dish you can throw together quickly, although the baking time is significant, so you need to plan for that. Russet potatoes work best, because they love to absorb whatever they cook in, and they are just starchy enough for this application. They turn out creamy, cheesy and delicious, and are always a big hit; I mean, who doesn’t like potatoes?

I’ll bet even Santa likes them.

Gratin Dauphinois

2.5 lbs russet potatoes (about 3 large)
3/4 cup milk
3/4 cup cream
1 large garlic clove, peeled and halved
1.5 to 2 cups grated cheese (Gruyère or Comté work best)
sea salt and freshly cracked pepper

Peel and slice the potatoes as thinly as you can, and layer them in a buttered gratin dish. Bring the milk and cream to a boil, turn off the heat, put the garlic in the liquid and cover the pan. Let this infuse for 20 min. or so. Take the garlic out, add salt and pepper to taste and pour over the potatoes. The liquid should come about half-way up the dish. Cover with grated cheese, and cover again tightly with foil. Bake at F350 for about an hour (until potatoes are very soft when pierced with a knife), then remove the foil and let the gratin brown, about 15 to 20 minutes more. Serve piping hot as a side dish, or just by itself with a salad.

Before a trip to a F350 oven

Just enough time to snap a picture before they're gone...

Tags: cheese, cream, dauphinois, garlic, gratin, milk, potatoes

Christmas dinner in France is generally Christmas Eve dinner, aka le réveillon* de Noël. People gather for the holiday feast on the 24th, and typically eat rather late (a 10 or 11 p.m. start time is fairly standard). Children eagerly await the arrival of le Père Noël (Father Christmas) at midnight. This might happen while the family is at church for midnight mass, as is customary for some, or it might happen (miraculously) while they are not watching and enjoying dessert. Either way, le Père Noël shows up and leaves before you’ve had a chance to catch a glimpse of him, the rascally old man.

I grew up in an apartment building in the town of Bagneux, about two-miles south of the Porte d’Orléans, one of the main entry points to Paris. Our apartment was small, and to this day I marvel at how my parents managed to keep our presents stashed out of sight before the big day. It was, however, quite a bit harder to place the gifts under the Christmas tree at the right time, and so my parents and older sisters had a perfect system in place which worked for years: a few minutes before midnight, one of them would stand by the window and say something to the effect of just having heard sleigh bells, and that we should rush downstairs to the lobby to try and catch a glimpse of the man in red. Needless to say, we missed him every time, just by a few seconds, and by the time we came back upstairs, the gifts were under the tree, dropped off, it was said, by a big man in a hurry to deliver more presents to other children. He simply could not stay to say hi, not even for a couple of minutes. Père Noël, if you’re reading this: I’ll be waiting tonight with a bunch of guests, and maybe this time we can talk a bit, alright?

Tonight is the third réveillon in a row I will be hosting for friends and family. Somehow, there will be twenty of us at the table(s), somewhat more than in past years, which is both wonderful and mildly overwhelming. On the menu, few typically French touches, save for some smoked salmon canapés that I will serve as amuse-bouches along with some festive bubbles in a glass. In my family, it was customary to begin the meal with a course of raw oysters on the half-shell, followed by some foie gras with a glass of Sauternes; few of my American friends delight in such, however, and so I tend to cater to a more prudent – and vegetarian for some – palate. This year, the menu will include a turkey, a mushroom lasagna al forno (for the non meat-eaters), chestnut and apricot stuffing, some yet-to-be-decided-upon spinach, roasted tomatoes, braised cabbage and apples, gratin dauphinois (potatoes never had it this good) and for dessert, a blueberry trifle. No pictures to share yet, but I will report later on, I promise.

And so the cook-athon begins this morning in earnest (to be honest, I already did some prep work yesterday), and before I begin assembling, whipping, baking and slicing, let me wish all those who celebrate it a magical and merry Christmas, and more generally to all: may this holiday season brings you joy, peace, and delightful meals!

* The word is derived from the word “veille,” which means “eve”. The other French réveillon takes place on December 31: le réveillon du nouvel an.