Southern Fried French

Tarting up A Classic French Dessert

To my loyal readers:  Southern Fried French may go from weekly to every other week for a bit, during winter travels, unless I am extremely disciplined, which seems unlikely.

Candied orange slices and candied orange peel:  classic French confections for the fruit-loving French.  You’ll see them in all the chocolateries, and often they take a little dip in a chocolate bath.  For fans of this dessert, they inspire great devotion;  I have a friend who comes to Paris often, and she always makes a beeline to the chocolate shop first thing to get them.

Moi, I was never really fond of them.  That is, until I made them chez nous, for my husband, another fan.  I found a great recipe for them at The Repressed Pastry Chef.  Instead of cooking them the usual way, simmered in a bath of sugar water until they’re soft, she cooks them in a single layer in a skillet, boiling the water down to a thick, bubbly syrup until the slices are a bit caramelized.  Easy to make and amazingly yummy.  Healthy too, right?

So last week, in need of a fruity finish for Thanksgiving (to go with the other three desserts), and in possession of a large sack of fat Spanish oranges, I thought about putting these candied oranges in a pie.  I decided to make one of those pretty, thin French fruit tarts, but topped with the oranges in place of the usual apples or apricots.  Instead of serving it with cream, I put the cream underneath, a thin layer of sweetened marscapone.  

The tart must have been a success, as it disappeared quickly.  Even if you don’t make the tart, do try the candied orange slices.  They’re as easy as, well, pie!

 

RECIPE:  Candied Oranges, Tarted Up 

First make the oranges from Marlena's blog, The Repressed Pastry Chef.  You should slice them as thin as you can (thinner than mine); if not they’ll still be good but it will make the tart a bit of a challenge to cut.

 Since Marlena makes these in a single layer in a skillet, I had to make several batches, (which was no problem since I was in the kitchen all morning anyway).  If you want to do them all at once, try the recipe at Chocolate and Zucchini, which is faster but they will not be as caramelized.  Here we go:

• 1 prepared or homemade  baked crust for a single pie, baked in a Tart Pan with Removable Bottom (use  Pie Weights when you bake crust).

•  4 or 5 oranges, sliced thin (leftovers will be a good thing)
• 1 cup marscapone cheese
• 1 tablespoon confectioner’s sugar, or to taste
• 1 teaspoon vanilla

Cook the oranges with one of the recipes mentioned above, cooling them on parchment paper.  Cut them in half with scissors (for Marlena's recipe, I cut them in half after cooking, I find they keep their shape better.  But you'll get more in the pan if you cut slices in half before cooking).  Mix the marscapone with the sugar and vanilla and spread in the bottom of the the cooled tart shell.  Top with oranges slices, overlapping.  Chill and serve.

In the COMMENTS:  we're still talking about tea, and Susan, thanks for enlightening me on cool-weather grasses.  

Favorite Reads:  I'm very pleased to announce that TWO of our readers have new books out this week. Debbie Ambrous has released A French Opportunity, her memoir of a long and eventful voyage that takes her from small-town Alabamba to France.  Clair Symonds' book  Romance and Revolution: A Leap of Faith at the Iranian National Ballet is a memoir about a Jewish ballet dancer who falls in love with a Muslim, much to his family’s dismay (I’m planning on loading up a Kindle copy, but it’s out in paperback as well).  Ido, you’ll be happy to hear that Bonjour 40: A Paris Travel Log (40 years. 40 days. 40 seconds.) will be out in paperback sometime this month---I’ll let y'all know.

For DYI Interior Decorators:  Just a little tip for those of you who like the decorating arts as much as I do.  I came across this Designer’s Cheat Sheet at the Honey & Fitz blog, and immediately loaded it onto my ipad.  If you’re decorating a house, you’ll love having bed and table dimensions, pillow lay-outs, and more; and don’t miss the upholstery yardage chart.  My vote for most useful freebie of the year!

 

A Wistful Autumn in Burgundy

PHOTO:  Vigne Vierge (Parthenocissus quinquefolia) is a popular vine for walls in Burgundy.  This is the plant that got me in trouble with the agricultural beagle at the airport one time.  But that's another story.

 

One of the highlights of living in Burgundy, with it's rolling hills and verdant pastures, is the grand and glorious fall.  It almost makes up for the long-ish winter that follows.  

This week was sunny and it was almost warm  so out came the camera.  Fellow gardeners, hope you'll find a couple of plant ideas here.  Burgundy is roughly equivalent to hardiness zone 7a in the states.

Mahonia Japonica is a favorite plant of mine.  It's evergreen, elegant, easy, and great for fall color.

After a foggy couple of weeks, the moss, ever present on shady stone walls, is glowing green.

I hope some gardener can explain this to me:  in temperate Charleston, grass turns brown in winter.  In Burgundy (with a climate similar to the Washington DC area), the grass looks just like this, flourescent green, all year---even in the dead of winter.   The tree is a cutleaf Japanese maple called 'Seirku'.

 

A fading fall rose.  This rose is one of the all-time greats in my book:  'Michka', by Meilland, un rosier grimpant (a climber).  In my garden it doesn't just bloom, it goes through full flushes, virtually all the time.  It's flushing right now as if it were spring.  My other roses are nearly leafless (OK I didn't get around to spraying much this year), but this rose, a disease-buster, has foliage that looks fresh and green.  Golden yellow in fall, it takes on a much peachier tone in spring.  It gets big--mine is eight feet tall and nearly that wide.

Pots of strawberries in my neighbor's garden 

My Japanese Maple "Bloodgood" is red all year, but this tree is the basic species variety, with green leaves except in fall.

Saying a sad good-by to autumn: fallen leaves from a Kwanzan cherry.

A very happy Thanksgiving to all!  Now here's a recipe for the week after, that could feed a crowd of lingering, turkey-fatiqued guests.

 

RECIPE:  Butternut Pecan Lasagne

Though they have many other pumpkins and squash varieties, butternut squash is a fairly new arrival in France.  In fact, at the market the other day, A French woman, who saw me buying one, asked me what one does with it.  (A first for me---usually I'm asking about THEIR new and different veggies).  This rich, vegetarian main dish is perfect for fall.  Butternut squash is fairly mild, so I like to add some assertive flavors and contrasting textures to it. (Not my best photo, by the way, but we were in a hurry to dig in!).

• 1 cup pecans, toasted 
• One butternut squash, about 2.5 lbs., peeled and sliced then cut into pieces
• olive oil
• ½ teaspoon red chile flakes
• 2 onions, chopped
• ¼ cup fresh sage, chopped
• ¾ lb. ricotta cheese
• 1 egg, beaten
• pinch of nutmeg 
• 1 cup grated fresh parmesan cheese, divided 
• no-cook lasagna noodles, about 12
• 2 balls fresh mozzarella, thinly sliced
• ½ cup crème fraîche or sour cream  plus 2 tablespoons

Toast pecans in 300 degree oven for 7 minutes and set aside.

Raise oven temperature to 400.  Toss squash with chile flakes, salt and pepper, and a little olive oil.  Roast until tender, 20 to 30 minutes.  Reduce heat to 375. 

Meanwhile, cook onions in a little olive oil on low heat until caramelized, about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.  Add sage and stir for 2 more minutes.

Toss squash with onion mixture in a bowl.

In another bowl, mix ricotta with egg and ½ cup parmesan, plus nutmeg, salt and pepper.

To assemble, spread a tablespoon or two of crème fraîche in bottom of an  8” (20cm) square pan.  Cover bottom with lasagne noodles, breaking one in half if needed to fit. Spread with half of ricotta mixture, then half of squash.  Place half of mozzarella over all then top with  half of pecans.  Top with another layer of noodles.  Repeat (ricotta, squash, cheese pecans). Top with a layer of noodles.

Spread crème fraîche evenly over noodles. Sprinkle with ground pepper and top with remaining half cup parmesan.

Bake until bubbly, about 35 minutes; check periodically, if it browns up too much, tent with foil.  Let sit a few minutes before serving.  Serves 6.

 

In the COMMENTS:  Well we certainly have some strong opinions on tea, y’all!  Everything from buying it ready-made by the gallon (that would be my mother),  to special chinese kettles that bring the water to the perfect temperature (Suzanne).  A professional weighs in, and if you’re visiting Napa you must stop by Tillerman Tea to say hello to David.  Linda has two recipes for us, including homemade decaf.  Jan, please tell us the name of that wonderful tea you’ve been searching for!  Frank and Herm are going solar, Libby of Libby Wilkie Designs is horrified by tea bags, and Debbie, thanks for reminding me about Luzianne!  Natalia talks about Tea Forte, Diane (Under an Olive Tree) is making tea in Italy..well  there’s lots more, to further your tea education!

Favorite Reads: Great news for book lovers, we LOVE the new book site for women, Shelf Pleasure. You'll be hearing more about them from us soon. Also one of our readers, Paula Hogan, has written many children's books, including The Life Cycle of the Honeybee which was the featured book on the PBS series Reading Rainbow.  Find it  here ,then click on her author page to see other works.

 

A Cup of Tea? It’s Complicated

 Europeans drink a lot of tea, and not the just Brits, it's a European passion.  And they are quite particular about their tea.  Maybe folks are in the states now too, but when I lived there, a cup of tea was a cup of tea, though it did also come in decaf and herbal.

You thought making a cup of tea was easy? Oh la la, since most of our friends are European, I feel like I’ve been to Tea University.  And of course, now that scientists have decided that drinking tea prevents cancer and makes you live longer, even I, who would prefer an espresso or a chocolat chaud any day, take my daily dose.

We’ve educated you in the French coffee rules, so here are the European tea rules, as best I can determine,with input from various tea drinkers here that I know.

When I first arrived, I noticed everyone but me had an electric kettle.  I thought, how stupid is that, a dedicated device just to boil water!

Now I own an electric tea kettle. How did I live without one?  When you’re serving tea in quantities, it’s easy and fast.  It’s critical when my English son-in-law and his mum visit (and daughter Kelly taught me to use it for quick boiled water for other things, like pasta).

Now for the types of tea.  In Europe, tea is hot---ice tea is basically non-existent.  Herbal tea is not known by that name, and ‘decaf tea’ is uncommon. After dinner when it’s time to cut off the caffeine,  European tea drinkers will ask for a tisane or a vervain (or sometimes, une infusion).  Vervain (verbena in English) is a plant used to make a herbal tea, and often combined with other flavors like mint or orange.  It is also a natural remedy, used to treat mild depression, kidney stones, and as an added benefit, it is said to ward off vampires.

Up next: what brand of regular tea to offer?  It’s a land mine!  Various English friends have tried to educate me, but what I’ve discovered is there is no one correct answer, only very strong opinions.  Many like PGTips (I always keep a box of that), some swear by Tetley.  Many turn up their nose at Lipton. Twinings seems to be acceptable to most. 

The basics types of regular tea here are English breakfast or Earl Grey, or indian teas like Darjeeling.  You can offer milk (never cream, quel horreur!) with English Breakfast but not with the otherrs.  For English Breakfast serve the milk cold in a pitcher, and add milk after the pour, not before.  Sugar or honey?  Lemon? You may offer all  of the above.  Everyone I polled seems to be OK with tea bags. 

What kind of tea do I drink, tea virgin that I am?  Green tea is said to be the healthiest, but I don’t like it much except for one brand: Yogi Chai Green. It has a peppery taste that is almost addictive.  I used to drink it with a touch of honey and just a teaspoonful of cream for richness.  But, sigh, now they’ve discovered putting milk in tea reduces the health benefits. Trés compliqué, n’est pas?

Please share your tea wisdom in the COMMENTS, for our continuing education.  And hop over to The Daily Basics if you'd like to read my guest post this week, "6 Tips on Being a Good Guest".

 RECIPE:  The Rituals for a A Proper Tea

My British friend Tony has kindly agreed to educate us on how to do tea the English way.

• Boil the water in a kettle.
• When boiled pour some boiling water into the tea pot. i.e. "Warm The Pot" Throw out this water.
• Put the loose tea into the pot. One  " teaspoon " full for each person and one extra " For the Pot"
• Pour on the boiled water. 
• Leave for a few minutes to brew, or as they say in the north to ' Mash "
• Now either a)  As Mr Twining  recommends add milk to the tea cup before filling. This ,he maintains, keeps the cup free from  tannin stain  b) As is more usual add milk to taste.
• Pour the tea into the cups using a " Tea Strainer "
• Add sugar if required with " Sugar Tongs"
• Stir with a " Teaspoon"
• Sip elegantly. Pinkie raised if possible.
• Alternatively use Tea Bags!
• Avoid tea sold in Boston Mass. It could be damp and slightly salty!

And English friend Narissa sends some tea trivia and history:

In the 18th century in England tea was an very expensive commodity, drunk mainly by the aristocracy and a new middle class which had become wealthy with the industrial revolution. Around this time the teabox or caddy, became a feature in every household. This box, usually made of woods, such as mahogany or rosewood, had three compartments, the left and right ones held different types of tea while the round center one was fitted with a glass bowl - for mixing the tea to taste. Once mixed and placed in the pot the box would be locked (so your maid would not get a taste for or impulse to steal the tea) and the key placed back on one of the chains of the chatelaine the lady of the house wore hanging from her belt.  Nowadays, while China tea is drunk, it is mostly Indian teas from Assam, Darjeeliing or Sri Lanka (formerly Ceylon) that are the most popular. Photo: Tea caddy circa 1825, from The Box Shop.   Modern versions have slots for various types of tea bags.

In the COMMENTS last week: Living in Burgundy, we're always drinking and thinking about wine (Much more than tea).  By email, our Dutch friend Rudy sends a quote which, he says, "I stole from a napkin" (obviously, written by a woman):  "Men are like a fine wine. They start out like grapes. It's our job to stomp on them until they mature into something you would have dinner with!"    Hey guys, this quote was sent to me by one of your own, so you'll have to take it up with him of you don't agree! 

Favorite Reads Music:  Our reader and poet Herm of the Poems, Photos and Stuff blog told me his favorite French singer: Mireille Mathieu.  Listen here, and buy her greatest hits album here. Beautiful, Herm, thank you.

Guest Post: Turning 40 in the Louvre

Dear Readers, do I have une petite gâterie (a treat) for you today!  Karen A. Chase is the author of a book I absolutely loved,  Bonjour 40: A Paris Travel Log (40 years. 40 days. 40 seconds, winner of the eLit Silver Medal Award.  She has graciously agreed to do a guest blog for us, and she includes an excerpt which really captures the soul of her book.  Read on...

I planned an adventure to stay in Paris for five weeks for my fortieth. Journaling about the trip became a blog that became a book, and below is an excerpt that reminds me how important it is to nurture my dreams regardless of age. Like most tourists, I visited the Louvre, but to a woman turning forty  in Paris for a month, the experience was more enlightening than I could imagine. Below is an excerpt from my book, Bonjour 40, on turning forty in the Louvre.

Bonjour 40 ~ Excerpt

Entered the Louvre at 9 a.m. It was all going so well. Tickets and plan in hand, navigation headset hanging around my neck, I went straight to the Winged Victory of Samothrace, the sculpture of the Greek goddess Nike. They have her placed on a rock pedestal resembling a large ship prow, at the top of a long flight of stairs, so you approach her from beneath. Art critics have determined her “best side” is a three-quarter view on her left, but I quickly realize, for a woman with no arms or head, she is commanding and stunning from every angle. 

She is sexy and feminine, yet healthy and robust, with a pair of breasts and an ass that men would die to protect. This sculpture exudes what I imagine most of us women would like to feel like every single day. Brave. Confident. Alluring. Beautiful. Strident. And free. Some believe she is depicted descending from the skies, but placed on the edge of that rock. To me, she seems to be lifting off. She’s on the precipice of something even greater than herself. Stepping forward, wings out wide for flight, with the wind of the future already pressing and lifting her skirts. 

I wander off envisioning myself feeling that way now that I’m turning forty, and from there, POOF! I was lost in a hallway leading to heaven knows where. Crap. I had no idea where I was. I looked at the map on the 2″×4″ screen of the handheld guide wondering how I could navigate my way back to my plan [I had made that morning] again.

I took a right into an exhibit room to get my bearings and ended up standing in front of the Mona Lisa. She is, I’m sorry to say, not what I expected. I was a little let down that she was so small. The canvas is 21″×30″, and as if to prove the point and make you feel ridiculous for thinking she was larger, the Louvre has placed her in a room with the largest canvas they own—Veronese’s Wedding of Cana at 391″×267″.

As I stood in front of her smirk, I stared into her face and compared her simplicity to the chaos of Cana. I realized the Mona Lisa makes a lovely point with her small, demure self. Not overbearing, too complicated, or too grand, it’s easy to be with her. Unlike the monster painting behind me, it would be easy to travel with her. Leonardo Da Vinci did. He carted her demure, quiet, canvas visage with him everywhere for more than fifteen years. He began painting her when he was fifty, improving, altering, and working at her continually until right before he died. Hmm.

Yes, I’m sure you see the lesson, too. Patience, grasshopper. Building a woman that is both engaging and mysterious takes time, and sometimes you start later in life than you planned…

Photo Caption: Although not in the Louvre, this woman’s expression, in a painting by Henri Gervex, is exactly how I feel when I experience art within the city. The painting is in the free Musée Carnavalet, covering the history of Paris.

WANT TO KNOW MORE about Karen Chase, and her book?  You can buy Bonjour 40: A Paris Travel Log (40 years. 40 days. 40 seconds from Amazon. It's an ebook, but the PRINT version will be out this month--watch this space. Karen, who is also a graphic designer extraordinaire,  has done a darling trailer for the book which you can watch here.  Or go directly to her author site or her facebook page.  Follow her on twitter at @KarenAChase.  Nook fans can find the book here.

Karen, many thanks, and we eagerly await your next book!

In the COMMENTS:  Virginia Honey, I do need one of those pillows! (Virginia writes the Paris Though my Lens blog). Beth and Barbara, thanks for answering Caitlin's question about French driver's licenses, especially since I didn't know the answer.  And Caitlin, David Lebovitz did a blog post on everything about gelatin, which is where I found the conversion.  Janelle, we are drooling over Aunt Martha's Oh-So-Good Pie (best name ever), please do send the recipe!  Suzanne, looks like we'll be making that pie after all, but to celebrate.  Pat, your Umbrian version of Eggnog Pie looks even better--but Chris (of that great shopping site, European Market) , your idea isn't bad either!