A Very French Mac and Cheese

MY AMERICAN FOOD ROOTS AND A VERY FRENCH DISH

For someone who was always hungry, 

I never paused between mouthfuls of steamed shrimp and wedges of Indian River oranges 

long enough to consider the culinary heritage of the place of my youth. 

– Florida ‘space coast’ cuisine, American Food Roots 

A little up time, a flurry of writing, working, planning, punctuated by a slow slide into calmness, hibernating under blankets, snuggling into a soft nest of pillows. The rain has been replaced by sunshine, wavering between watery, tepid rays and bright, invigorating light. Springlike days have replaced the shimmering pewter skies and dismal ambiance. I saw my first piece published on American Food Roots, a site dedicated to our American culinary heritage. Delighted was I to become a part of such an informative, fascinating site and an informed, talented community. Thrilled at the chance to collaborate with such brilliant, passionate women as Domenica Marchetti, Bonny Wolf, Carol Guensburg and Michele Kayal.

Riding high on this writing adventure, I plan and organize my trip to San Francisco, my Experts Are In session with my pal Ilva Beretta. I have my press pass in hand for this weekend’s Salon du Chocolate Nantes edition, the first of its kind in our town, very exciting! and a date to meet my favorite chocolatier. The next From Plate to Page workshop in beautiful Ireland approaches rapidly. Plans, ideas and projects swirl around my head and begin to take shape; more stories and articles get typed, edited and mailed. Maybe it is the weather, the light and warmth lifting the spirits and energizing the creativity. Maybe it is the affirmation of being published, the anticipation of more that inspires.

 Hunkered down and cozy.

Or a stroll around Nantes when the sun comes out.

And we are still hunkered down for the winter.

For a breath of summertime and a taste of fresh seafood and citrus, please visit American Food Roots and read my piece on the food of My Florida. You’ll find my recipe for smooth, cool Cream Puffs with Orange Pastry Cream and tangy Orange Glaze with photos by Ilva Beretta.

My own photo of my luscious orange cream puffs.

What does one prepare when the craving for something homey and comforting hits yet no one desires to make that dash to the store? (I sit at my desk and type, he works on his own project, banging out pages upon pages in between one phone call and the next. It becomes a Push-Me-Pull-You situation when shopping is discussed.) One rifles through the cupboards, one stares at all the packages of grated comté and emmenthal that have somehow, inexplicably, accumulated in the refrigerator and one has that aha moment of Macaroni and Cheese. And not just any macaroni and cheese, but something oh-so very French. Lots of French cheese and elbow macaroni smothered in luscious, healing, soothing béchamel. The only foreign touches are a fine yet healthy grating of Parmesan and a generous dusting of panko for crunch. Comfort food at its best in any culture.

VERY FRENCH MACARONI & CHEESE

Béchamel Sauce:
3 ½ Tbs (50 g) unsalted butter
3 ½ Tbs (45 g) flour 3 cups (about 750 ml) whole milk
½ large or 1 medium onion, chopped
Fresh thyme leaves, chopped, or dried thyme
1 small bay leaf
½ to 1 tsp chipotle chilli powder or cayenne pepper
Dash ground nutmeg
Salt and pepper

Mac & Cheese:
Béchamel Sauce
2 – 4 cups grated hard cheeses (Comté, Emmenthal, gruyere, Swiss)
½ cup or so freshly grated Parmesan cheese
½ cup or so panko or other breadcrumbs
1 lbs (500 g) dried elbow macaroni or similar

Butter a large, deep baking dish; mine is approximately 12 x 7 x 2 ½ -inches and pyrex.

Cook the pasta according to package directions, drain and place the cooked macaroni in a large, heatproof mixing bowl.

Prepare the Béchamel:

Melt the butter in a large saucepan over low heat. Add the chopped onion and cook for several minutes until soft and translucent. Add the flour all at once and stir vigorously to blend; cook for a minute or two. Add the milk a little at a time, whisking after each addition until the mixture thickens and is smooth. Continue whisking in the milk a little at a time until it has all been poured into the saucepan. Whisk in a pinch of thyme, the bay leaf, the chipotle chilli powder and a pinch of nutmeg. Salt and pepper to taste. Continue cooking, whisking constantly, until thick, about 10 to 15 minutes. Remove from the heat; prepare the macaroni and cheese while the béchamel is still hot.

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C).

Pour the hot béchamel over the cooked paste and stir until all of the pasta is coated with the sauce. Toss in all of the grated cheese except for the Parmesan, keeping about ½ cup of the mixed cheeses aside for the top of the casserole. Taste and adjust seasons according to taste. Pour into the buttered baking dish and spread evenly. Top with the rest of the grated cheeses, the grated Parmesan and ending with the panko, all evenly distributed up to the edges.

Bake in the preheated oven until bubbling and the top is a golden brown, about 20 to 30 minutes, keeping an eye on the surface of the mac & cheese towards the end. Timing depends upon the oven, the size of the baking dish and how browned you like the crust.

Serve hot and gooey with a bright, tart mixed salad and a bottle of light red white.

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Scalloped Potato Gratin

I was passing through the kitchen yesterday trying to come up with a quick and easy side dish to go with the steak we were going to cook Tony for Father's Day on Sunday.  My mind instantly went to potatoes and I realized that I didn't get around to posting the delicious scalloped potatoes that I made for him for his birthday!

Super easy side dish especially if you use the slicer attachment on you food processor.  He loved them and might just be seeing a repeat performance on Sunday!

See all the cheesy goodness with the delicious little browned bits that everyone fights over?

Scalloped Potato Gratin (Food Network - Tyler Florence's recipe)

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 cups heavy cream 
• 1 sprig fresh thyme
• 2 garlic cloves, chopped
• 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• Butter
• 2 pounds russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/8-inch thick slices
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 cup grated Parmesan, plus more for broiling

Directions:

• Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.
• In a saucepan, heat up the cream with a sprig of thyme, chopped garlic and nutmeg.
• While cream is heating up, butter a casserole dish. Place a layer of potato in an overlapping pattern and season with salt and pepper. Remove cream from heat, then pour a little over the potatoes. Top with some grated Parmesan. Make 2 more layers. Bake, uncovered, for 45 minutes. Sprinkle some more Parmesan and broil until cheese browns, about 5 minutes. 

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Bacon and Egg Breakfast Cups

I am ALWAYS on the lookout for a quick, healthy and easy breakfast to feed the girls.  Our mornings are sometimes a little (lol!) hectic and having some thing made ahead or that is fast makes it oh so much better.  Usually they get these really tasty breakfast sandwiches but when I saw these on Kristen’s blog (Dine and Dish) I knew I would have to try them.

They were a real hit.  I ended up changing it and using bacon that I cooked up the night before because I didn’t have any ham.  The kiddo’s loved them.  Lauren will eat 2 of these at a sitting.  Easy to make a dozen and heat them up over the next couple of days…

Bacon and Egg Breakfast Cups (Dine and Dish)
Ingredients:

• 12 eggs
• 1 cup chopped cooked bacon
• 2 ounces shredded cheddar cheese
• salt and pepper, to taste

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350°
2. Spray a muffin pan generously with Pam cooking spray
3. Crack one egg into each hole of the muffin pan, using a fork to gently break the yolk.
4. Sprinkle each egg with bacon, salt, cracked black pepper and cheese.
5. Bake for 20 minutes.
6. Pop out of muffin tins and serve.

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ENDIVE, LARDONS & CANCOILLOTTE GRATIN with a Peasant Boule

A BIRTHDAY AND A GIFT

I think, at a child's birth, if a mother could ask a fairy godmother to endow it
with the most useful gift, that gift should be curiosity.
- Eleanor Roosevelt

Small baby swaddled in creamy caramel blankets clutched to her chest, the woman in the supermarket line in front of me rattled on happily about the birth of her newest child, wondering that six weeks had already flown by. I smiled at her and exclaimed “and before you know it, 20 years will have elapsed” as I thought of my own babies, now grown men.

Each birthday is a time of reflection: where we have been, where we are now and where we are going. Wishes made as candles are blown out, eyes tightly shut, images of health, wealth and world peace flutter through our imagination; dreams float in and out and with each passing birthday, as we get older and the weeks and months between celebrations seem to grow shorter, we tick off our accomplishments on our fingers and make lists of what there is left to do; the years that once yawned before us seem numbered, our time now urgent and we wonder again if there will be enough time to get done all that we desire.

Yet that brief encounter at a place so banal as the supermarket, seeing one young woman’s face light up as she showed off her new baby, made me think of my own and I wonder if this is not my greatest accomplishment. I remember a letter once written to my brother so long ago during a rather rough period of my life when I counted happiness in moments spent with my husband, enumerated each struggle I faced living in a new country, how my days went with two small, headstrong boys; I felt locked in and going crazy, totally out of control and, need I say, as if I was going nowhere fast. My brother, always so thoughtful, so wise, so supportive, wrote back a long missive listing my accomplishments, reminding me that an extremely shy, small-town girl had picked up and moved abroad with no money and no help, married a Frenchman and was raising two multi-cultural sons; he pointed out that I had learned two foreign languages that I juggled on a daily basis in order to survive and get even my basic needs and those of my family met; he went on and on listing my achievements and exploits, forcing me to stare hard in the mirror of my own life and admit that, after all, I wasn’t a failure and that I had indeed done some pretty impressive things with the short number of years that had at the time so far been awarded me.


And years have flown by. Things have only gotten better; my husband and I now confront our troubles and worries as a team, encouraging each other, sharing, trying to understand the other’s confusion, difficulties and joys. We have gotten more adventurous as the years have scudded by, made changes, moved countries and cities, changed jobs as we have seen fit, as the urge, need, desire has come upon us. Maybe we have grown braver in the face of my brother’s illness and death, realizing that no one can be sure of how much time is left and that each and every moment should count, each new birthday a gift. Maybe as we have grown older and smarter we began to realize that we wanted to show our growing boys all that life can and should be, teach them the lesson that we can’t be afraid to face up to our dreams and that if we work hard enough we can make anything happen.

Children are great imitators. So give them something great to imitate.
– Anonymous

Okay, so birthdays make me sentimental and just slightly maudlin, I do admit. And another birthday has rolled around as they inevitably do and here I sit and think about… my sons. As I revealed and clarified in a previous post, my men are shy of the spotlight and none too thrilled with being mentioned in my writing, yet here I must reflect once again on how they began as adorable bambini and have grown into tall, handsome, fine young men. Clem, always the happy, chortling, gregarious tot, who ran before he could walk, chattered on and on before he could form words, frivolous and adventurous, has grown into a smart, ambitious, creative young man. My little Simon, thoughtful and quiet as a baby and toddler, careful, patient, eerily capable of too many things and having a capacity to read adults like some dark angel, sensitive and moody throughout his boyhood has become an honest, intellectual, generous, searching young adult just on the brink of his life. Both are kind, funny and clever, interested in the world around them, knowledgeable and cultivated. Both have the talent to tease their mother while making sure she is happy and safe, the capacity to drive her absolutely bonkers or outright into a rage while looking out for her well-being, protecting her while running her in circles. And both have the ability, in their pranks and jokes, to make me roll on the floor with laughter.


My husband and I are both on the point of starting over, beginning new careers, daring to find our true selves and put our happiness and our own satisfaction first; we focus on ourselves yet, looking around us, are astonished to see what our sons have become, astounded that we had a hand in creating two young adults that we are truly proud of. And watching and listening to them, sitting and talking and laughing with them, we realize that life has become just a little bit more satisfying and easier.

While we try to teach our children all about life,
our children teach us what life is all about.
– Anonymous

He continues to cook and I to bake. A brief interlude from the sweets for one more savory: an Endive and Cancoillotte Gratin, a recipe that jumped off of the page out of our latest issue of French Saveurs magazine. Cancoillotte is a creamy, thick yet almost liquid, sticky and rather elastic cheese from the Franche-Comté region of France with a flavor that is impossible to describe (think the best cheese fondu you have ever eaten). Warm up this flavorful treasure and it becomes liquid gold, unctuous, luxurious like the finest French silk rippling, sliding down one’s skin. Although thick and oh-so decadent, Cancoillotte is one of the least fatty of cheeses with only 2 to 8% fat. Heaven! This dairy product has a fascinating history: it was actually conceived by a cheese producer during the First World War when he had the idea to produce, sterilize and can cheese to be sent easily to the soldiers, les Poilus, on the front. 90% of the production of Cancoillotte still takes place in Franche-Comté. Not widely known, my husband introduced this treasure into our home many years ago and, I can easily say, once a spoon is dipped into the creamy cheese and lifted to the lips, once it is served melted on toast, an all-time favorite, it is impossible to stop until the last drop is licked clean from the pot.


JP twiddled a bit with the recipe and placed on the table before us this magnificent gratin, at once slightly bitter (braised endives), salty (chunks of smoked ham), garlicky and tangy with this marvelous cheese all at once, the pecans giving the gratin an earthy, satisfying bite. A decadent pleasure. I paired it with this month’s Bake Together recipe by my talented friend Abby Dodge, a peasant boule, which I jazzed up with a cup of finely grate Parmesan cheese and a handful or two of mixed seeds – pine nuts, pumpkin seeds and sunflower seeds. The Peasant Boule is this month’s Bake Together recipe: follow #baketogether on Twitter and find out how you, too, can bake together with us!


I would like to share this bread with Susan of Wild Yeast for her weekly celebration of yeast, Yeastspotting!

ENDIVE, LARDONS, PECANS & CANCOILLOTTE GRATIN
From Saveurs février 2012


6 – 9 endives, depending on quantity desired
1 small pot (250 g) cancoillotte for 6 endives (1 ½ pots for 9)
Handful cubed smoked lardoons or ham
2.3 – 2.6 oz (65 – 75 grams) coarsely chopped pecans or walnuts
Finely minced clove of garlic
1 small bouillon cube, optional
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Unsalted butter

Remove the outer leaves of the endives and trim off the end; discard. Slice each endive in two lengthwise and either steam or braise in a small amount of water with about ½ a bouillon cube (if desired), for about 10 minutes until soft.

Preheat the oven to 400°F (200°C). Butter the bottom and sides of a baking dish (terra cotta or glass/pyrex) large enough to snugly hold all of the prepared endives in one layer. Line up the braised or steamed endives in a row in the prepared baking dish.

Briefly sauté the smoked lardons until browned. Sauté the lardons in a small amount of butter if desired.


Evenly distribute the minced garlic, the browned lardons and the chopped pecans over the endives. Salt and pepper. Pour the cancoillotte all over the endives and bake in the oven for 15 minutes. The cheese should be bubbly and beginning to brown around the edges.


Serve immediately.


ABBY’S PEASANT BOULE

1 recipe peasant boule
1 cup finely grated Parmesan or Comté cheese
½ to 1 cup mixed seeds

Follow the directions for Abby’s Bake Together peasant boule on her blog, blending the cheese and seeds in with the dry ingredients before forming into a dough.


The only changes I made were using salted butter for the bowl, the pan and the top of the bread. I brushed the surface of the dough twice: once before the second rising, as instructed, and once just before sprinkling more seeds on the top of the boule and baking.


I changed the size of the cake pan I baked the bread in; I believe this may have led to the top of the bread splitting during baking as well as that the center of the dough was underbaked. But we loved the bread even if not perfect and I will be baking this again very soon.

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CAULIFLOWER AND POTATO GRATIN

THE MAN COOKS… AGAIN AND AGAIN!


My men are a unique bunch: they are handsome, wickedly funny, bright as all get-out, über talented and creative. But if they are anything at all, they are discreet. Not so much shy as shunning the limelight; they loathe being talked about, are uncomfortable being shown off; they are wary of my verbosity in front of my blog and social media accounts, mistrustful of how much I talk about them to my friends; they don’t appreciate being mentioned nor do they want their photos splashed across Life’s a Feast or my Facebook page; they simply do not want their private lives bared to the world. I am woman and they are man and rarely the twain shall meet, yet as I try and understand their vagaries and respect their wishes, I sometimes, well, let’s admit it, I slip up. Ooops! But how does one such as I write something as personal as a blog or even write at all without talking about the three most basic elements, the most important components of my life?


As winter rages outside…. Okay, I will admit that rages is a bit farfetched, for the temperature bounces up a few notches, then down a few, neither settling on frosty nor on balmy, less raging than hovering around some wishy-washy in between and the snow still eludes my every request – okay, let’s start again... As winter settles in gray and desolate, teasing me with much-yearned-for glacial weather and the promise of snow in her steely glance and misty afternoons, my husband and I spend most of our time huddled together in the apartment. So face to face, with him part of my every waking moment, I find it close to impossible not to talk about him. Especially when he is doing all of the cooking.

As you may know, we are Starting Over. After the long, arduous conversations, the hashing and rehashing, tossing ideas, thoughts, fears and dreams back and forth like two kids playing ball in the street on a dull summer afternoon, we came to the decision – and not for the first time in our many years together – that husband should leave his job (for a quantity of reasons) and it was time for us to recreate ourselves yet once again. Adventure awaits, the world opens before us in a multitude of possibilities. The lure of pleasure and the fulfillment of dreams enchants as a Siren’s song, seduces us with their dangerous, mesmerizing beauty. Galvanized by our various projects and simply delighted at having the time we aren’t each sitting in front of our separate computers to be together, we seem to be possessed by some reckless, crazy Utopia of an ideal world where we can get by doing just what we love doing and maybe, just maybe, have a positive effect on someone, somewhere. We may be deluding ourselves, it is true, but when have hard work and passion not come together to create something perfect? Or something close to it?


But back to the food. My husband has always loved to cook from his earliest years, and now that he is home he has been more than happy to take over the kitchen at mealtimes. Raised on hearty, wholesome, traditional French family cooking kicked up with his two years living in Morocco and enriched with the food he experienced during his travels across Europe, he has built up an incredibly rich repertoire of favorites. He saunters through the market choosing his purchases carefully, studiously, selecting only local, seasonal fruits and vegetables, planning dishes compatible with the weather and our mood. Poached whole sea bass or choucroute laden either with Alsatian sausages or seafood, a spicy couscous or exotic tagine, mussels marinière served with sizzling frites or an herbed côte de boeuf, lasagnas meaty and traditional or layered with smoked salmon, his talents are endless, his taste impeccable! Onions chopped, herbs ripped, meat sautéed, potatoes puréed, he has kept me happily fed for 25 years and he still never ceases to amaze me. Granted, his menu choices often defy my diet, but diet is a word that just isn’t in his vocabulary and any mention of that dreaded concept can work him into a fury. Raised on pot au feu, guinea fowl wrapped in tender green cabbage, creamy, cheesy potato gratin dauphinois and blanquette à l’ancienne, food is meant to comfort and soothe, fill one up and carry one through the rest of the working day. Salad is to end the meal not replace it, fruit accompanies a platter of cheese and a loaf of bread and wine is served at every meal. Yes, many a meal nowadays chez nous is made up of a large mixed salad or a healthy, light bowl of vegetable soup, but when one desires to cook a meal, well, one cooks.


So I pull up my chair to the table, tuck a napkin under my chin and dig in. The first mouthful a revelation, the second, a confirmation, the third and each after pure pleasure. I close my eyes and savor yet another marvelous dish and wonder that he can take the most humble of ingredients, toss in a handful of seemingly random this or that, sautée, simmer or bake and create such flavorful, inspiring, delectable dishes. And today’s is simple indeed: Cauliflower and Potato Gratin. This is the man who refuses to allow a cauliflower or a broccoli to cross the threshold into our home, bans each from the kitchen, forbids the cooking in any way, shape or form of such two who leave an acrid, pungent odor behind, trailing a whip of cabbage stench from livingroom to bedroom. Yet he loves the humble, elegant cauliflower, so excuses are made, reasons found for the occasional foray into cauliflower love. When he is feeling admirable, exemplary in his sense of responsibility, he will steam the flowerets and serve them in a chaud-froid style simply tossed still warm from the pot with a tart vinaigrette studded with finely minced shallots, lovely pale purple dots against the pristine white of the cauliflower, the vinaigrette giving a sparkling, clean bite to the mild vegetable. But when he is feeling decadent or when the weather is chilling us to the bone, he opts for something richer, creamier, more filling, a dish that leaves us content and replenished, protected against the harsh elements and the mad, mad world outside.


So, at the risk of making him upset or having him ask me once again to never speak of him on my blog, of being reprimanded for opening up our intimate details for all the world to ogle and dissect, I will say that I am married to an incredible cook, an incredible man. He began cooking when merely a boy in his maman’s kitchen while she worked, taking over entire meals while others of his age were going through their adolescent woes and rebellions. His passion for food has never stopped growing and lucky am I to have him cooking for me! Ah, but we were talking about a Cauliflower and Potato Gratin, weren’t we? Simply steamed potatoes and cauliflower, tossed in a luscious, thick, creamy béchamel and topped with both Parmesan and nutty Gruyère or Comté cheeses then popped in a hot oven to bubble and brown… nothing, dear reader, says Winter Comfort Food better than this.


Looking to hone your food writing or photography skills or just needing to kickstart your creativity? Feeling the blogging blues and desiring inspiration? Wanting to bridge the road between blogger and professional? Looking for an intimate, hands-on, practical workshop rather than a huge, traditional conference? If you missed our exciting, successful From Plate to Page workshop in beautiful Tuscany then you won't want to miss the next! Registrations are now open for From Plate to Page in spectacular Somerset UK in Spring 2012! Check out the program, the accommodations and reviews of P2P Tuscany and P2P Weimar... and then sign up before all the spaces are filled! I'll be there offering writing instruction, critique and ideas.


CAULIFLOWER AND POTATO GRATIN
Jamie & JP team up in the kitchen


1 head cauliflower, trimmed and broken into large flowerets *
Several potatoes that stay firm while boiling **

About 1 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese
About 2 or 3 cups grated Gruyère or Comté cheese

* Flowerets broken into small, bite-sized pieces will fall apart or crumble when being blanched or steamed. Pre-cook them in larger pieces and cut into smaller bites before tossing in the béchamel.

** How many potatoes, you ask? I did not see how many JP peeled and cooked, but maybe about half to ¾ the quantity of cauliflower you use. Combined, the vegetables blended with the béchamel should fill a 13 x 9-inch baking dish or slightly bigger. Read this post about JP cooking au pif…

Béchamel
4 Tbs (60 g) butter
4 Tbs flour
3 cups (700 ml) whole milk
1 small to medium onion trimmed and finely chopped
1 bay leaf
½ tsp dried thyme or 1 tsp fresh leaves
Large pinch nutmeg
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Prepare the vegetables by simply cleaning and trimming the cauliflower and cutting into large sections and steaming or simmering in salted water until tender but not too soft or mushy; they will continue to cook in the oven, and peeling the potatoes and simmering in salted water until tender but not too soft. Drain.

Once well drained, cut into smaller pieces and toss together.

Preheat the oven to 425°F (220°C). Butter a large baking dish.

Prepare the Béchamel:

Melt the butter in a large saucepan over medium-low heat until bubbly. Add the chopped onion and toss to coat. Lower the heat slightly and cook, stirring, for about 3 or 4 minutes until the onion is soft and transparent and just beginning to turn golden on the edges.

Add the flour all at once and stir or whisk until the flour is well blended into the butter. Cook, stirring, for a minute 2 to 3 minutes. Then begin adding the milk, a little at a time, whisking to blend and allow each addition to thicken. As it thickens, add more milk and repeat until all the milk has been added and the sauce is beginning to thicken. Add the herbs, salt and pepper generously and allow to simmer very gently, stirring continuously, for about 10 minutes. Taste and adjust the seasonings. Remove the bay leaf.

Pour the hot béchamel over the prepared cauliflower and potatoes and gently toss until the sauce is evenly distributed. Pour into the gratin or baking dish and spread out evenly. Sprinkle the Parmesan and then the Gruyère/Comté evenly over the top of the vegetables all the way to the edge of the dish.

Bake in the hot oven for about 20 minutes or until bubbly and the cheese is a deep golden and browning as you like.


Serve as a side dish with roasted meat or chicken or with cold cuts or sausages or as a main course for lunch simply with a large mixed salad. And a glass of wine.

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MUSHROOM & CARAMELIZED ONION QUICHE

ONE FOR THE BOY


I hadn’t baked in several days. Or has it been weeks? The chill that has hijacked summer along with the damp seeping into the apartment uninvited has sapped my energy and my baking mojo seems to have withered and died a slow, numbing death. But deprivation seems to have woken something animal in my son, the one who complains of too much cake being shoved down his throat, the one who implores day after day that I leave him and his friends alone, to stop coming into his bedroom while they work bearing plate upon plate of baked goods. The one who always has unannounced (to me) plans for dinner, leaving me with too much on my hands and Tupperware containers full of uneaten scraps. He and Valentin, who has moved in for the month of June, spend their days in the back bedrooms working on end-of-the-school-year projects and various work assignments. They occasionally wander out of the darkness and into our half of the apartment looking for something to eat, often finding the cupboard – and refrigerator - bare. JP and I finally strapped on our safety helmets and buckled on our humor jackets, grabbed the stack of baskets and bags and made our way to the grocery store, ready to forage, hunt and gather what to feed a small family up and down the savage, untamed aisles of our local hypermarché, hoping to stave off hunger and save the young. But apparently it was not enough for the young cub. The same old same old provisions piled up around him and tumbled out a refrigerator door opened much too quickly: packs of ravioli and tortellini, cured meats and ham, cheeses and yogurts just weren’t enough to soothe the savage beast. He was bored and indignant! And with teeth bared, he spit out his displeasure at always either having too much or not enough or simply not what he craved! I was indeed a bad mother!


As the sun threatened to break through the clouds and illuminate the steely skies, as the wind died down just briefly enough to give us hope, something stirred deep down inside of me that put me back in the mood to bake. Or maybe it was a mother’s base instinct to nourish her offspring. I don’t know. But whatever it was grabbed me by the arm and yanked me into Clem’s bedroom where I asked, “What would you like me to bake?” My baby boy, my darling son looked at me, eyes quickly darting back and forth on the lookout for imminent danger, glancing up at me then down in embarrassment. “Mom,” he asked, “can you make something savory?”

"Please, sir, I want some more." from Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens

As the school year winds down and the students filter slowly out of town one by one, as the boys work diligently on their models and designs, they have indeed been eating dinner with us more and more often, actually getting a kick out of their evenings in. They have enjoyed both of JP’s lasagnas, engaging in and appreciating the lively conversation with the “old folks”, even doing the washing up when the meals were done. Well, almost. Scratching the old noggin, I searched my brain high and low for an idea, any idea, of what to make. A baker more than a cook, I scrolled through my usual repertoire of savory goodies, and a wonderful thought struck me! On our recent visit to an old friend of JP’s, his wife had prepared a fabulous rustic Mushroom Quiche, studded with smoked bacon, rich with cheese and browned to an invitingly golden crust. Her deep-dish quiche was succulent, flavorful and comforting; served with a crisp green salad, it made for the perfect meal eaten under the trees, in the waning sunlight in the cool of the garden. Clem always loved a good quiche, the gourmand in him reveling in the creamy cheesiness at once both homey and sumptuous. He has gobbled down my Zucchini Ricotta Feta Tart and adored my Clafoutis of Ratte Potatoes, Asparagus and Bleu d’Avergne. He loves a good old-fashioned Quiche Lorraine, which I make following my brother’s recipe. Tender, flakey crust, cheesy goodness (for the cheese fanatic that he is) thick with fresh cream and rich in eggs, a quiche is a wondrous thing, enough to sate a young cub yet served with a crisp garden salad a satisfying yet light meal for everyone. And I was determined to put this favorite back on the menu.

I decided to take the idea of a Mushroom Quiche yet replace the smoked bacon with golden caramelized onions and lots of them! Add to that a couple of healthy handfuls of nutty emmenthal or gruyère cheese and the whole dusted generously with freshly grated Parmesan. Needless to say, my Caramelized Onion-Mushroom Quiche was a hit with the guys who then happily heated up and enjoyed the last remaining slices for lunch the following day as well. Now what to make next….?



JP still threatens … tempts me with a weeklong bike trip up the historic and picturesque Nantes-Brest Canal. Purchases must be made: a bike for me, ponchos for the ever-possible downpour, saddlebags in which to pack our meager provisions and enough snacks to fill up at least one saddlebag (if he complains then none for him!). Preparations made while we wait for the return of pleasant, summery weather, if indeed our brief hint of summer has not already ceded her place to an early, overly ambitious autumn at the ready to muscle her way in and stay.


(Update: as you read this, I will be on the road! Nervous and excited but it should be a fun adventure! I hope to be keeping in touch via twitter, so make sure you are following @lifesafeast to hear all about what we are up to, what we are seeing, what we are eating and any exploits, happenings, encounters, ordeals and escapades we may have... and both young men have passed all their exams with flying colors!)

SAVORY CARAMELIZED ONION & MUSHROOM QUICHE

Short crust pastry for one 9- or 10-inch pie plate (recipe follows), prebaked

2 medium yellow onions, cut in half and thinly sliced
11 to 14 oz (300 to 400 g) white mushrooms, cleaned, trimmed and sliced
2 – 3 Tbs (30 – 45 g) butter for sautéing
Salt and freshly ground black pepper.
5 large eggs
1 ½ cups mixture of light or heavy cream and whole milk
¾ tsp salt
Generous grinding of black pepper
¼ tsp ground nutmeg
About ½ to 1 Tbs unsalted butter
About 1 cup grated gruyère, emmenthal or Swiss cheese (full-flavored & nutty)
2 – 3 Tbs freshly grated Parmesan

Prepare the Short Crust Pastry:

1 3/4 cups (245 g) flour
¾ tsp salt
½ tsp sugar
12 ½ Tbs (180 g) unsalted butter
6 Tbs cold water

Place the flour, salt and sugar in a large mixing bowl. Add the cubes of butter, tossing to coat with flour so they don’t stick together. Using the tips of your fingers and thumbs, rub the butter and flour together rapidly as if pushing the butter into the flour until the mixture is crumbly and it resembles damp sand. Do not overwork this mixture as the butter will melt and start to clump; it will be blended better later.

Add about 4 tablespoons of the cold water and blend vigorously with a fork. Add more water, as much as needed, onto the dry flour and continue to stir up from the bottom until all of the dry ingredients are moistened and the dough begins pulling together in a shaggy ball.

Scrape the dough out onto a floured work surface. With the heel of one hand, rapidly smear and push the dough onto the surface and away from you, about a tablespoon of dough at a time, smearing it onto the work surface. This will complete the blending of the butter and the flour.

Scrape the dough up and gather it into a ball. Knead gently and briefly, just enough to make a smooth, homogenous ball of dough. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate until firm enough to roll out easily, about 15 minutes.

Lightly butter a quiche or tart pan (if using the smaller diameter, make sure the sides of the pan are higher/deeper). I used a 9-inch wide x 2-inch deep (23 x 5 cm) tart pan.

Roll out the dough on a well-floured work surface to fit the pie tin. Gently lift and fit into the pie tin, lifting and pressing the dough into the corners. Crimp the edges and trim. Cover with plastic wrap and chill for 30 minutes. Prick the bottom and sides with a fork before baking.

Preheat the oven to 400°F (200°C). Remove the plastic and place a square of parchment or oven paper in the shell and weigh down with dried beans or pastry weights. Bake for 8 or 9 minutes then remove from the oven. Carefully (so as not to burn yourself) lift out the parchment and beans and return the shell to the oven for an additional 5 to 8 minutes or until pale and light golden brown. Remove from the oven to a cooling rack or wooden cutting board.


Lower the oven temperature to 375°F (190°C).

Prepare the Quiche Filling:

Slice the onions thin and chop into large dice. Heat a skillet, melt about a tablespoon of butter and sauté the onions over medium-low to medium heat, stirring often, until golden and tender. If you like, add about half a teaspoon of sugar to the onions to help the caramelization process. Scrape the caramelized onions onto a plate or bowl and add another tablespoon butter to the skillet. When the butter is melted, add half the mushrooms, salt and pepper, then, stirring often, cook until sautéed and tender. Remove from the skillet and repeat with the rest of the butter and mushrooms.


Spread the caramelized onions in the prebaked shell then cover with the mushrooms. Cover evenly with the grated gruyère, emmenthal or Swiss cheese.


In a large mixing bowl, whisk the eggs until lightly beaten. Whisk in the cream and milk along with the salt, pepper and nutmeg until well combined. Pour this over the vegetables in the tart shell. Sprinkle with as much or as little of the grated Parmesan as you like, dot with small bits of butter then bake for about 40 minutes or until slightly puffed, a deep golden and set.


Remove from the oven, allow to cool briefly then serve with a garden salad and a loaf of bread.

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