Black Diamond

"I got it!" he almost shouted into the phone.


"You got what?"


"Le truffe. And you have to come and eat it... soon. This can't wait. It's fresh...NOW!"


I think I probably need to explain all the ensuing shouting and jumping up and down. A truffe is a truffle. Not the chocolate kind that we make at Christmas. Those were named after the real truffe....the Black Diamond...because they share a resemblance.


A truffle is, plain and simple, a mushroom. But after that, it's not plain and simple. Black truffles are a smell and taste sensation, 80% of which come from Provence.  They grow completely underground and are not easy pickin's.  There are three ways to get them.


1. Have a nice, fat wallet and buy one.


2. Have a pig or trained dog that can root them out in a public forest where they may or not be and where nobody will shoot you if you find one.


3. Be a grower of truffles. These people buy oak or chestnut trees specifically inoculated with the spores and spend a lot of time, energy and money hoping their crop will come to fruition. And they still need a special dog or a pig and a lot of luck.


My friend has a colleague with a dog trained specifically to find truffles. It's a hobby and he does his foraging on public land where there is no danger of being called a poacher. It's a sideline that from time to time, cashes in.


I say "cashes in" because not only are they a taste and smell sensation, they're expensive. I mean, REALLY expensive. More pricey than my ski pants. More costly than my car, in fact! The December wholesale price of a quality black truffle was running about 1200€ a kilo ($1573)! Any way you look at it, they're a rarity, a very expensive rarity that I was soon to have the opportunity to enjoy.

On the menu: simple food designed to let the truffe shine. No fancy stuff here...I wanted to taste it.  But first, the truffle (ours was probable 200 grams or more...a great big one would wholesale at about 400€ and could double or triple for retail) was placed in a bowl with the whole eggs on top, sealed and put in the refrigerator for two days. Amazingly, the eggs take on the intense flavor of the truffle as they share space. Not only that, they actually took on a different color. The eggs on the left were the ones that spent a two day conjugal visit with their mushroom.

Then I mixed the slightly beaten eggs with a little creme fraiche and salt and pepper. I sliced the truffe in tiny, paper thin slices to mix into the eggs. When I dropped a couple slices on the floor, my friend was on his knees in a heartbeat, scrambling to pick them up and chastising me for my lack of care.. This is not something to be wasted. Then I cooked the eggs in a bain du marie, so they they slowly cooked without danger of burning.

In the meantime, we made a simple potato salad adding only olive oil, salt and pepper and sliced truffles. We used the whole thing up! All of it. I kept thinking this puppy could pay my air fare ticket to the United States but if I were to stuff it in my pocket and run like hell,  I would never have this experience again....so....


I tried to eat slowly. I really tried. But it was just so good. I've read up on truffles and "experts" say they're best raw. I'm going to disagree. I found the flavor more intense in the cooked eggs than in the potato salad and if I ever get the opportunity to play gourmet gourmand again, the truffles will go in the potato salad while the spuds are still hot.


Truffle season is over for this year (I wrote this in February but forgot to post it!) and today I ate...big surprise...peanut butter. But I've had my affair with The Black Diamond. And we're in love.

Just a note to ask you to check out this site for a free Provence Rug giveaway. They're not Black Diamonds...but they are a slice of Provence you can afford. Especially if you get one free!  http://www.thepixelboutique.com/2012/04/a-little-piece-of-france-a-provence-rugs-giveaway/

Take the Cake

Each day, Quasimodo is becoming a more and more distant cousin as our resemblance fades. But because of my self-imposed exile in my dark tower, I've been cooking up things to do. Actually, I've been working myself crazy on my new webstore but once in awhile I've got to get off my butt and do something else.

Thus, this week became Cupcake Week. I never make cupcakes. I never have. But I now have a cupcake castle with 2 floors and a handle and it needs to be used. Check this thing out. My friend Victoria brought it to me from the states when I was told here that these things don't exist in France. It's collapsible. For one layer or two. They should have named this contraption "This Takes the Cake".



I searched all over the internet to find a recipe and find one I did. As well as a rockin' recipe for chocolate frosting. So I proceeded to do my thing in the kitchen (man, I make a mess!). I produced 2 batches of the best cupcakes ever and then sat in front of them...looking at them. I hadn't been invited anywhere, I wasn't having a party (I'm in exile), and I was supposed to start a diet on Monday. The cupcakes and I needed to part ways...pronto! I took a couple down to the concierge and gave some away to friends, but yesterday the first floor of my two story cupcake palace was still almost fully occupied.

My friend Doreen stopped by on her way to her first-time visit to my neighborhood beauty shop and I decided to go along and catch up on some beauty shop chatter. And to find a home for my creations. I donned my dark glasses to hide my still swollen visage, put the lid on the chocolate beauties and off we went, my cupcake valise in hand.

I passed out cupcakes to the ladies in the shop and as more came in to chat (it's that kind of shop and I love it) I continued to give them away. I explained the concept of a cupcake...you simply peel off the paper and eat it with your fingers. This approach did not seem to work with The Ladies of the Salon. They tried as per my instructions...but it just wasn't going to fly. They all asked for a spoon.

The French seem to eat everything with utensils. Even pizza. When I was home last December, and my sister and her husband and I were grabbing a quick take-out pizza, I dug in....with a knife and fork. My sister looked at me quizzically as she took a bite out of the slice she was holding in her hand. I realized what I was doing...being all French about it....and I quickly picked up the slice and devoured it like a true American.

The ladies adored the "little cakes". Not too sweet, so moist, trés fondant... yada. yada, yada. And for some reason, watching  them delicately holding this little cake wrapped in bright paper in the palm of their hands and slowly eating it with a spoon made my cupcakes seem so...special.  More like a grand dessert than a picnic food.

By the time Doreen was shampooed, coiffed, and welcomed into the folds of The Ladies of the Salon, I still had a few left. Off we went to Hublot, the neighborhood bar/cafe that my friend Fehti owns. I passed the rest of them out to all the guys stopping by for their afternoon coffee/pastis/whiskey/beer. Once again, I gave them instructions. But, within seconds they too were asking Fehti for spoons. Come on guys, man up! This is a cupcake we're talking about! Still it was really sort of adorable. Several did, however, point out that they looked a little like les crottes des chiens (we're experts here in Aix on piles of dog doo because we're constantly stepping in it or working to avoid it). So in effect, they were a little more masculine about the whole thing!

So now, I'm going to share the recipe because people have been asking for it. The cupcakes are an old recipe from World War II, developed by some ingenius soul who couldn't easily get her hands on eggs, milk, butter or sugar. So, in fact, they're vegan and lactose free. And in spite of that... absolutely delicious. The best. I found the recipe on Food.com but it's an old recipe and can be found everywhere.

Wacky Cupcakes
1 1/2 C. flour
1 C. granulated sugar
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
1/3 C. cocoa powder
1/2 C. oil
1 C. water
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 T. vinegar

Mix these ingredients until moist and well blended, fill the cupcake cups about 3/4 full and bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes.

The frosting rocks as well. Light, creamy, not too sweet and it doesn't make you feel as if you're eating piles of sugary fat. It's made with flour and is cooked so it takes a little more time. But it's the best I've ever tried and I'm not a great fan of frosting.  I got the recipe on Kelsey's site but I'll rewrite it for you here.


Best Chocolate Frosting
2/3 C. granulated sugar
1/3 C. flour
3 T. cocoa powder
1 C. milk
1 C. butter
1 C. chopped semi sweet chocolate or chocolate chips.

Cook the flour, sugar, cocoa and and milk over low heat, whisking as you go and as it thickens. When it gets to the consistency of a thin pudding (dunk the back of a spoon in it. If your finger leaves a path as you sweep it across the spoon, it's done). Let this cool or put it in the fridge. It cannot be warm for the next step.

Some time later....after the chocolate mixture has cooled... melt the chocolate in the microwave. Don't overheat, it will get grainy. In a separate bowl, cream the butter with an electric mixer and then add the cooled cooked chocolate mixture. Whip that up and add the melted chocolate. Whip again. "Whip it good". If you'd like, add a teaspoon of instant espresso powder to the mix. Num!

Now, my advice is to eat les petit gateaux with a spoon (after all, this is a blog from France and it IS the French way). They will taste even better!

Bon Appétit!

It IS Easy Being Green

The markets here in Aix en Provence are exploding...bursting with choice, local, fruits, vegetables and herbs. But the most magnificent thing about les marchés (read more about our markets in Aix here) in August, is they're not exploding with people. There's a laziness to the days right now that I love. Everyone is on vacation, including many of the venders. And I can move around the market without getting stepped on or jostled and I have the opportunity to converse with the venders about such earth-shattering subjects as the merits of Tahitian versus Madagascar vanilla beans.  I want to stay away from the markets...I really do. Because I always buy more than I can consume in a day or two...just because it's beautiful... and ripe...and perfect. I have become pretty adept at taking veggies almost past their prime and turning them into something that I can at least stick in the freezer. I see, as I'm writing this, that there is a red pepper in the basket in front of me that is starting to shrivel with age. It will go in the broiler today with some olive oil and get itself roasted back to a new form of perfection.  I wish I could do that for myself! Oh yes, I guess I could. It's called a chemical peel!

Anyway, 2 weeks ago on a rainy, gray day I was perusing the market...again for nothing in particular. I passed a vender who happened to have a big fat, glorious pile of basil. And it was the thick-leaved, shiny variety (they call it Italian basil here) that I love to use for pesto. Summer pesto is a tradition at my house and when this herb is  thick and fragrant, before it flowers, one has to grab the moment. Which I did this day. I filled a sack and changed my afternoon plans.

Pesto was always one of my kids' favorites. On pasta, on crackers, on a sandwich, with tomatoes...whatever. And the wonderful thing about pesto is it makes basil preservable. It freezes like a dream, thaws fast and brings the late lazy days of summer back to mind when one is buried up to the neck in snow. Of course, here in the south, I don't need to worry about the snow thing but...winter is winter...no matter how it presents itself.

I'm low on good kitchen tools here but I did buy a food processor. My splurge was really the fault of a fellow blogger named Sharon, and her citrus tart recipe but I did have pesto in mind when I bought it. And you really need a food processor for this. Unless you're a kitchen saint...or nuts. So here's our favorite pesto recipe.

Pesto


4 C. well packed basil leaves (this does not mean well packed as in brown sugar. But you can push it down a bit. Bruising won't matter much. It won't have time to lose it's flavor).

1/2 C. olive oil

2 or 3 cloves garlic, minced

1/4 to 1/3 C roasted pine nuts (do not skip the roasting step. This makes a world of difference in the flavor.)

1/4 C. grated parmesan cheese (yes, I mean buy a good quality wedge and grate it in the food processor)

1/4 C. grated asiago or pecorino cheese (same as above)

Wash and dry the leaves. Make sure they're good and dry by flinging them around in a towel or running them through the spin cycle of the washer (in a towel) ....yes you heard me. A top-load washing machine is the BEST kitchen tool. Do not try it in a front-loader (I tried that at my friend Kerry's house one time and she was picking spinach out of her underwear for a month). Then spread them out on a towel to dry.

Puree the leaves with a food processor. Add the oil, garlic and pine nuts and process until a paste forms. Then add the cheese and just process to blend.

That's it. Perfect pesto. I leave one batch in the fridge for dinner and the rest is frozen in 1/4 C. portions in freezer bags. I NEVER make one batch....it's always at least 4. And it's so comforting to have a stack of flat little green bags in the freezer. For that moment when....

Just for extra fun, here's a great recipe using pesto. I haven't got any photos. Philadelphia Cream Cheese has just recently come to France and I can only get it at the big supermarkets. But take my word for it, unmolded, this is a beautiful addition to an apero table;  it's green, red and white stripes singing summer.

Pesto and Sun-Dried Tomato Torta

1 ½ pkgs (8 oz. each) cream cheese           

            into chunks
 ½ C. unsalted butter, into chunks

8 oz. dried tomatoes                                    

fresh basil leaves for garnish

 In a small bowl, cover tomatoes with boiling water and let them stand 2-5 minutes, or until softened.  Drain well and chop.  Line a mold or bowl with plastic wrap, letting ends hang over.  Layer half cream cheese mixture, half of the pesto and half dried tomatoes.  Repeat layers.  Fold ends of wrap over top and refrigerate at least two hours.  To serve, invert and remove plastic wrap.  Garnish with basil leaves and serve with crackers or toasts.

These freeze beautifully so I make two in soup bowl sized molds and one goes in the freezer for the inevitable moment when someone arrives for a drink and all I've got is old cereal and sour milk.

Bon Appetit!

The pesto recipe looks amazingly like one at Epicurious. Who knows, maybe that's where I got it back in the '80s...but I doubt it. I'm sure they stole it from me! The Torta recipe, if memory serves me right, came from my friend Steve Immerman. Thanks Steve. I've used it a million times.

Cherry, cherry

For a summer that seemed a little bleak, things have been shaping up quite nicely. I had zero plans coming back to France after my trip to the states. But I haven't seemed to stop since I got home. I spent last weekend in the Camargue with my friends and what seems to be my new family. I spent time at the beach and attended my first Course Carmagaise (a bullfight...more like bullplay, native to the Camargue, which does not involve killing the bull or hurting him in any way, although I do think he's got to be traumatized by the whole thing).

Tuesday night I went to my friend Lynn's for dinner. As usual, I was asked to bring dessert. I'm always happy to do this because I can't make desserts simply for myself and expect to stay away from them. But I see so many great recipes from fellow bloggers that I am dying to try and my friends know it.

 It's cherry time here and I just can't stop eating them. Numerous varieties which I never understand, but the venders always know which is the best fruit for my purposes. I saw this recipe on Sharon's site over at My French Country Home.  Yes, again. Sharon's going to be the death of me, I swear!  But this recipe, Cherry Clafoutis, is typically French and this was my opportunity.

As I said,  I love cherries. I just don't like anything...ANYTHING...made with them. Not ice cream, not yogurt, and especially not cherry pie. So I made this recipe with low expectations. In spite of the fact that is was just "good" for me, my French friends loved it, said it was honestly the best Clafoutis they've ever eaten and asked for the recipe. So if you like cherry stuff...try this. (by the way, when she says corn flour she means corn starch...oh yes, and don't bother pitting them...just warn people ahead of time)

So anticipating ONE MORE TIME boarding a bus with baked goods, I stopped at the culinary store. I asked the vender if he one of thoses boxes made to carry les tartes. He said, "you mean one of those round, plastic boxes with a handle?"

"Yes, yes...exactly!"

"Madame, this is a German idea...or perhaps American."

"What do you mean?"

"This is not in the spirit of the French. We make cakes....we eat cakes...but we DO NOT carry them around."

"Really?"

"No madame, when we are asked to dinner....we take flowers."

Well, I guess I've been told! You have to understand that this guy is a comedian and all the old ladies hang out at his store just to laugh with him. But still...I've been told!

And I don't care one single bit. Sharon and all the rest of you, keep bringing on those recipes. They rock! And I will continue to board buses with my cakes wrapped in Glad Press n Seal, squished at the bottom of my ever-present bag...

I'm off to Malta for the weekend. Have a great one whatever you are doing.

And Many Hormonal Returns

Saturday was my birthday. And I behaved completely out of character. During the days before The Grand Event, I fell into some sort of premenstrual/ menopausal funk (how can this possibly be fair?), although I didn't know what the hell was the matter with me at the time, and I had no desire to announce my day to the world. This is not like me. I normally take every, single opportunity to tell the world it's my birthday and revel in the warm fuzzies of it all.  But this year, I didn't send out a pre-announcement on my blog, I put nothing on facebook, I didn't even take out an ad in the newspaper (which I've never done but I've considered it!)

I mourned the fact that I still hadn't found a birthday crown, I took a gander at the royal wedding and realized the damned princess had made off with MY crown,  I half-heartedly tried to decide which pair of high heals I'd wear to make up for the missing crown, I baked another tarte au citron and tried a new, fabulous, simple recipe for a Hazelnut-Chocolate torte, which I found over at Darjeeling Dreams, another one of my go-to blogs for great recipes.

There's something amazingly therapeutic about beating egg whites, don't you think? 

I wrote a couple of completely dismal, self-pitying emails, I wondered if I was going crazy...and then...

I woke up Saturday morning....to find the hormonal haze had lifted and it was going to be a great day!

And it was. I once again boarded the bus, this time headed for Lynn's house, with a sack full of baked goods, announced to the bus driver and all who could hear me (which I assume was everybody on the bus...I was feeling so great) that it was my birthday and I let them sing for me.

I lunched with these fabulous women

Upon my return, I announced to the landlord (who happened to be in the upstairs window) that it was my birthday so that I could graciously receive my birthday kisses from he and his wife.

I had dinner with more friends and partied until two am. I even took the liberty of taking a birthday extension (which I did announce on facebook....obviously feeling myself again) and went to the market and dined with more friends on Sunday night.

There was no announcement, no crown, no high heels...and it was still a great day weekend. My mom's card this year said "behind every super woman is a great pair of shoes". This is what I ended up wearing this weekend....

and I still felt REGAL! Birthdays have a way of doing that. They're even stronger than wacked-out hormones.

Home Is Where the Tarte Is

Easter isn't exactly the same and not always easy when you live far away from your family. If I were in Minnesota, I probably would have spent Easter Day at my sister's house with my boys, my family and friends. I would have made baskets for the boys (one is never too old for an Easter basket), we would have eaten ham and cheesey potatoes and then sat around a groaned about how full we are. In fact, because of the miracles of skype, late Easter Sunday I was able to join my mom, my sister and her family and friends as they were sitting outside enjoying the brand new spring (however, it snowed there last night) as they were groaning about how full they were. It was wonderful to be able to share it like that. And I talked to the boys, who both spent Easter at their respective girlfriends' homes and both seemed content and well-fed.

But holidays away from family are a little easier these days. With time, one finds people who become family and though they don't replace those who you can't be with, they're a hell of a good substitute. My Easter weekend began Thursday when I picked Claire up from the train station and turned over her precious car keys. We drove down to the Camargue to spend a couple of days with her mom (and my friend) Saro. Going to Saro's is a bit like going home for me. Not only do I arrive to a warm and inviting home and a good friendship, but the Carmargue is one of those places that feels strangely familiar to me. Perhaps you know the feeling...like I've lived there before.

My "job" was to feed Saro's retired, 35 year old horse and Pedro, her adorable donkey... after being shown the ropes, of course.

We ate, laughed, drank, and when we finally left the house to do a little shopping in the village, which is right on the sea, winter-like weather kicked in. It became cold, rainy, and windy and our shopping venture into town produced not much more than a bone-chilling cold, sand in our teeth and an urgent need to get back to the house, put on our woolies, and turn the heat on.

Saturday afternoon, Claire and I returned to Aix where I made my tarte au citron for Sunday's lunch at my friend, Holly's. Okay, it's not my tarte au citron...the recipe came from Sharon over at My French Country Home and you really need to try it. It's a perfect blend of sweet and sour, so simple to make and always a hit.

Sunday, I boarded the early bus to my friend Brigitte's in Rogne, carrying my tarte and a bottle of Rosé. (For some reason, I always seem to be traveling by bus with baked goods!)  Since it was a beautiful day and the only really nice one of the weekend, Brigitte and I freed her 1967 Triumph from it's parking space in the garage....

took off the roof, and headed out to traverse the Luberon Valley to Holly's house in Peypin d'Aigues. I wish I'd taken more photos because it was a beautiful drive, through all the suprisingly busy villages (I assumed they'd all be shut down tight for the holiday) and the lush green of the countryside. I was really wishing I had an elegant headscarf and a giant pair of sunglasses however!

Holly made us a superb lunch of smoked salmon, gnocchi and salad. We drank our share of champagne and Rosé on the sunny terrace and finished off with the lemon tarte.

Afterwards, we did the normal, holiday thing. We moved from chair to chair in a well-fed, semi-stupor, groaning and complaining about how full we were, and finally decided to walk off our meal with a tour  of Holly's village. The tour of tiny Peypin d'aigue, a village of no more than 400 people, one bar and no other commerce whatsoever, took all of 7 1/2 minutes at which point we were back on the couches...groaning.

As I hiked home from the bus station Sunday night, my ever-present bag holding the empty tarte pan and a bottle of Sirop Châtaigne (chestnut syrup that is really good in a sparkling white) that I bought from Holly's next door neighbor (after I found him surveying the Triumph and complaining that somebody had parked that car like a Parisienne...taking up two spots) , I returned home to start my skype/ telephone Easter.

I had a fabulous easter weekend. No it wasn't with family...and come to think of it, the boys would have probably spent Easter with their girlfriends' families anyway, but I got to spend it with some of the family  I've created in my new home. How wonderful to have both.

 

Cheese Louise...I'm off to Switzerland!

Tomorrow I leave for Switzerland for a two week ski vacation in the Alps. Man I love saying that! I think I'll say it again. Tomorrow I leave for Switzerland for a two week ski vacation in the Alps!!! Actually, I had the opportunity to say the same thing last year around this time, and tomorrow I'll be returning to visit my friend Vreni.


I will probably only actually ski four or five days...lift tickets are pricey. And if this week's "Power Pilates" class was any indication of my current physical condition, I'm in for deep doo-doo on the slopes. But I have several books in my suitcase and I know a great hotel in Arosa with heated, outdoor seating and giant fur blankets to cover my inert body. Après-ski can be enjoyed with or without actually skiing!


In celebration of my expedition to Switzerland, I'm going to share a couple of simple cheese recipes. Fondue, raclette and other alpine cheese meals are specialties of the northern regions of France and, of course, Switzerland. We're well past heavy cheese season here in Aix en Provence but there are mountains of snow in Arosa and I'll get to enjoy mountain cheeses until my pants pop.


The first is so simple. In fact, it's not even a recipe at all. It's merely a way to serve a wonderful, stinky, soft, cow's milk cheese called Vacherin Mont d'Or. This cheese is sold in a round spruce box and the packaging is said to give it some of it's flavor. It has an edible crust which is what makes it look so wonderful after it has been baked. And don't be afraid of the white fur that may be growing on the top...ashes, mold, fur, whatever...these are good things when it comes to cheese here in France.

Baked Mont d'Or

Take the cheese out of the fridge at least an hour before cooking it but leave it in its box. Some say you should wrap the box in tinfoil to prevent leaking. I forgot to do this and had no trouble with drips.  Dig a little hole in or score the top rind and, if you'd like, poke a couple cloves of garlic down into the cheese. Pour about 1/4 Cup (50 ml) of white Savoie wine over the top of the cheese, and pop it in the oven at 425 F (220 C). Bake it for about 20 minutes.

Serve this right in the box. Spoon it over small boiled potatoes or with thinly sliced meats. Traditionally it's also eaten with little cornichons and tiny, pickled onions. You can also treat it as a fondue and dip chunks of nice, crusty bread directly into this box of melted wonderful.

The second recipe is for tartiflette. This delectable dish uses ripe, Reblochon cheese, which is another northern cheese made from the milk of 3 different breeds of cow.

Tartiflette

You need:
     1 ripe Reblochon cheese (buy the good stuff with the fermier green
        stamp on top.
     4 pounds of potatoes (2 kilos)
     1/2 pound (200 grams) chopped bacon or lardons
     2 chopped onions
     8 oz. cream (250 ml)
     1/4 Cup Savoie white wine (200 ml)
     salt and pepper

Slice the potatoes after boiling them until they're just firm. (I don't peel them) Place them in a greased gratin dish. Saute the bacon and onions in a bit of oil over medium heat until golden. Add the wine and let this simmer until the wine is evaporated. Add the cream and salt and pepper to taste.


Mix the onion and bacon mixture with the potatoes. Be gentle.


Scrape the crust of the cheese wheel lightly with a fork. Cut it horizontally into two pieces and then in half. Put the cheese on top of the potatoes, crusts up, and bake at 350 F (180 C) for 30 minutes.


  

At this point I'm going to apologize once again for my horrific food photos and my obvious carelessness. If anybody has food photography pointers, I'm listening. (yes...obviously...clean all cream off sides of baking dish before proceeding to bake, burn and otherwise make this dish look....dirty!)

My fellow Americans.... there is one, small, teeny, weeny catch with these recipes. These are unpasteurized cheeses and have been forbidden in the U.S. since 2004. I believe some exporters are making them with pasteurized milk but I've heard the flavor is nowhere near as creamy and delicious. Read more about this American tragedy here...and then write your congressman! Or come to France and pick up your own! If any one of you is aware of a distributer of real, French, unpasteurized soft cheeses in the U.S.,  I would sure like to know about it. 

Bon Appetit!

I found these recipes in the AAGP (Anglo-American Group of Provence) newsletter last year. The article was written by Jennifer Dugdale, a woman who gives culinary tours here in Provence...in English. Check out her website here.

Packages of Fig and Chèvre

Okay, I have to share a nummy, simple recipe with everyone. I'm not sure where and when fresh figs are available to everyone, but I just checked my blog stats today, and I apparently have readers in 34 countries! Even if half were accidental hits or spammers, that leaves 17 countries, a few of which must have figs.


Last month my friend Claire and I stopped to eat at a little restaraunt near my apartment called Viktor on Place des Trois Ormeaux.  I had been there before with some friends where we all sampled a different salad. All of them were top notch. Which means one should always test again to be extra sure. I mean, when it comes to FOOD, I need to be extra sure. So we stopped in for lunch and both ordered the intriguing sounding salad with packets of chevre and figs. Whatever that might be! And one bite of these warm, bundles of melted goat's cheese and sweet figs and we were ooing and ahhing. 


Last week a friend gave me a box of figs from her tree. And as it happened, I actually had chevre in the fridge and a package of phyllo pastry in the freezer. There was no choice. The kitchen called.  And these were so simple!

So here we go. This is what you need:

Phyllo pastry (Filo)

butter

fresh figs

Chevre (goat's cheese)

sea salt

I love working with phyllo pastry. It's simple but if you've never done it, I'll walk you through it.


First important step is to thaw it properly. Leave it in the box and thaw it in the refrigerator for 24 hours. If you let it thaw too quickly, it will get doughy and stick together. Once thawed, open the package, unroll the stack of paper thin layers of and cover them with a cloth just SLIGHTLY moistened. This keeps the layers from drying out at which point they're unusable. Carefully lay the first layer on the board or counter and brush with a light layer of melted butter. Gently pull another layer off the pile and cover the buttered sheet (keep the rest covered as you work). Don't worry if the sheets tear.  Just piece them back together and all will be well. I promise. Continue the process with as many layers as needed. For this recipe, I only used 5 layers. When you're finished, roll up the extra leaves, put them back in the package they came in, wrap with plastic wrap and put them back in the freezer.

Cut the dough into squares, about 4" by 4". In the center of each square, place a slice of fresh fig, a slice of chevre and sprinkle it with sea salt. Not too much. Just enough to pop the flavors.

Fold the dough around the filling like a little package and place them on a baking sheet, smooth side up. Brush a little melted butter and the top and pop them into a 375 degree oven for 10 minutes. 

okay...the pan looks dirty...because it was. I was on batch number 2! And yes, you can take a little more time to make the packets look neater. Taking pretty photos for this blog was not my top priority at this moment.

That's it! C'est tout!

Serve these warm as an appetizer (apero or entre) or as we ate them, atop a mixed baby green salad dressed with a light balsamic vinaigrette. In the interest of taking photos, which I still haven't mastered, I ate TONS of these. Oh how I suffer! All I need is one little remark about how bad these photos are, and I'm going to have to do it all over again... until I get it right!

Bon Appetit!

Paque...revisited

Easter is now officially over. Yesterday was an state holiday and most stores were closed. Today, we're back at it...except for the school children and teachers. They've got another 2 weeks for spring holiday. And today began my chocolaterie crawl for beautiful, chocolate Easter treats...on sale. I promised my oldest son, who is 24 mind you, that I'd have an Easter basket ready for him when he gets here in May. Yes, I'm overcompensating for being a runaway mom! Anyway, much to my dismay, this stuff doesn't go on sale! What gives?

Chocolat Chaud

It was recently suggested to me that I might do a guest blog on a site here in Provence. Kind of cool actually, and though I don't yet know if it will pan out, I was pretty excited by the whole idea. The site, www.provencepost.com, is a plethora of information about the area and I check it out every day. In fact, it’s run by a transplanted Wisconsinite who now lives here in Provence.  Her suggestion was that I might want to write about Aix en Provence; things that I love like restaurants, historical sites, shops, etc.

The problem is I really don’t go to a lot of restaurants or do a lot of shopping. It’s just not in the budget. And being without a car prohibits those spontaneous afternoon explores outside the city.  But it got me thinking about my favorite things here in Aix and if they are even worth writing about. And I’ve decided they are. They’re not big or grandiose…they’re everyday things that just make me happy. And today I’ll treat you to my “winter” happy thing.

Whore's Pasta

This is not a food blog, I promise. But periodically I get going in the kitchen and come up with something really good so I've decided to share when a treasure comes along. 

My sister and I watched the film Julie-Julia while I was in Minnesota in December and it so inspired us that we printed off Julia Child's recipe for    boeuf bourguignon and went at it. We had a great time because we were doing it together and the house smelled so good...all day. That's because it took all day to make it!  There are times when "all day" is okay but really not very often.

Here in the south of France there are many traditional recipes that just scream "Provence" like bouillabaisse, ratatouille and petits farcis. The common thread in Provençal cooking is the use of locally grown ingredients and here in the south we got 'em! Vegetables of all kinds, olives and olive oil, garlic, lemons, seafood, and herbs, in fact, the same ingredients used in a lot of Italian cooking.  Which follows. This is France but it is also the Mediterranean. 

So in keeping with this tradition, the other night I made my version of Puttanesca. This basically translates into Whore's Pasta. (There are several stories behind the name but I'll let you look them up). This is my version of the recipe because I used whatever I could find in the fridge and a few things that just needed to be used up....immediately!  It was delicious and only took about a half an hour. Sorry Julia!

So here's the recipe:


Puttanesca

Ingredients

8 oz. cooked pasta ( I used fresh from the refrigerated section)

1/4 C. olive oil

2-3 cloves minced garlic

2 cans (the smaller size) chopped tomatoes (the recipe calls for 2 C. chopped tomatoes pushed through a sieve but I didn't have enough)

6 anchovy filets, rinsed and chopped

2 T. tomato paste

3-4 T. capers

20-30 olives (I used pitted Greek olives)

1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper

2 deboned chicken breasts (not traditional for this recipe)

feta cheese (also not traditional for this recipe)

1/2 pound or so of sliced mushrooms(yep..you guessed it....not traditional)

Cut the chicken into bite sized pieces and cook it in a little olive oil and a bit of garlic. Set it aside. In a skillet on medium heat, saute the garlic and mushrooms until...I guess until they're done. Add the anchovies, tomato paste, capers, olives, red pepper and tomatoes (if you're using fresh tomatoes add them before these items and cook about 5 minutes first).Add the chicken and let simmer for 10 to 15 minutes.

Serve on top of the pasta (cooked al dente) and sprinkle with feta and maybe little chopped parsley.

This can be a little salty because of the anchovies, olives and feta so don't add any until you've tasted it. The sauce is really flavorful so you won't need a lot of it. And whatever you think about anchovies, don't skip them. They're essential to the flavor.

So there you go...quick and easy. Not exactly French but Italy is only two hours away!


Oh yes, and if you try this, let me know what you think.


Bon Appétit!