An Obsession With Food

I have an ongoing fascination with all things French. French porcelain, French perfume, French clothing...but more than anything else, I have an obsession with French food.

I suppose it began long ago, in junior high, when I took my very first French class. While I thought the photos in the grammar books were horribly "gauche" I was able to immediately appreciate my newfound ability to translate cookbooks. Not that there was an abundance of French language cookbooks lying around, but as I leafed through the ones that were, I quickly recognized that French terms, indeed the French themselves, ruled the kitchen.

I read cookbooks like novels. Julia, Jacques, Patricia, Nigella, Marcus and Tom all provide techniques to try, combinations to explore. I often use them simply to come up with a shopping list. But when it comes to the actual cooking, I like to wing it. Some of the masters are French and some are not. But every one of them has at the very least a solid foundation in French technique. And most go to France to "master" the craft.

But I have a favorite book, one you may be able to find if you're lucky, or if you just query Amazon, called The Food Lover's Companion. There are a number of these types of guides out there, but this one is hands-down the best. This book truly inspires--in some respects, this little book can actually teach a person how to cook. Whenever I flip through it, as I did today as I prepared to have another round in what I'm calling The Spring Soup Experiment, I'm also reminded how essential it is to have at least topical exposure to the French language.

I often wonder why it is that the French "invented" classic cuisine. And when. Mise en Place, Bouquet Garni, even sauté and purée come from, and have very specific origins in, the French language; indeed in gastronomie itself. Ideas?

Living in Europe

For those of you who need yet another blog to read, Living In Europe is a great one. Diverse, all-Euro perspectives. Oh, yeah, I sometimes contribute.

Perfect Broccoli Soup

Every once in a while, I hit it just exactly right in the food department. I rarely write down what I make, preferring to just wing it most of the time. But this stuff deserves posterity. Seriously.

I love, love, love soup. Some of you knew that already. Now everyone does.

1 yellow or white onion, chopped
1 or 2 shallots, chopped
2 or 4 (or 6 or more) cloves garlic--use a 1:1 ratio, chopping 1 and leaving 1 whole

In a soup pot, saute (in low to medium heat) the above in a good, tasty amount of olive oil. Wait until it's all golden and soft.

2 heads broccoli--including stems, chopped
1/2 head cauliflower, chopped

Add to the pot, turn up the heat just a bit and let it all cook together for 5-10 minutes, until the broccoli and cauliflower are starting to soften.

1 boullion cube
handful of chopped parsley
good dash of salt (kosher is best)
good dash of piment d'esplette (substitue red chili powder)

Add to the pot; turn up the heat to high. Add cold water to almost (but not quite) cover the veggetables. Stir to mix the spices.

Rind from 1/4 pound mimolette* (substitute parmesano)

The secret ingredient. The RIND! Drop it into the soup. I promise it won't melt. What it will do, however, is add an amazing flavor.

The soup should be boiling now. If not, then very soon. Once it does, reduce the heat to low, cover and let simmer 1/2 hour.

REMOVE THE RIND! Then, with a stick blender (you really should invest in one of these, y'know) puree the whole darn thing silky smooth.

To serve, ladle into soup bowls, add a whopping dollop of crème fraîche, a pinch or two more of piment d'esplette (or red chili powder) and serve with a slice or two of hearty artisan bread.

Experimenting with Photoshop

ranunculus

I took some pictures of flowers I bought, rather than am growing (wait a few months for those). A couple of regular photos can be found here, StudioZoe's main entry page--which also doubles as my photoblog. Photos there change every few days.

Most of the editing of my photos consists of straightforward histogram, contrast and saturation adjustments; with an occasional sharpen or blur. But with this, I played with film grain, dust and scratches, and color balance filters. I was going for an aged, slight fresco feel. Whaddya think?

A garden begins

I have never in my life gardened.  My dad always did that stuff while my mom and I watched from the house.  Not that I couldn't, nor that I was afraid to get dirt underneath my fingernails. Just that I had no interest.  

Before we moved in last summer, no one had lived in our 150-year-old house in something like 20 years. Except with a lawn mower once or twice a summer, the land we're working with also hadn't been touched in 20 years.   Yesterday, Tobey and I started working in what will be our garden. And today I built a round rock tower for a raised herb bed. We're also prepping for real, honest-to-goodness vegetable and flower gardens.  Pretty ambitious for a first-timer, I know.

So the yard is full of moss (which we're trying to rake out), dead plants that have stubbornly rotted in place, and a couple years' worth of rotten fruit beneath the trees. But all of that icky stuff will be replaced by beautiful gardens to enjoy all summer.

Anyway, I was overwhelmed--but not repulsed--by the smell of fresh dirt.  It was kind of exciting, in an earthy way, to imagine myself enjoying the fruits of my labor over the next few months. Is this what gardening is all about?

I'm also really sore. Gardening is deceptively strenuous work.