Gastroanthropology

Cherry Clafoutis

I had the wonderful fortune of having one of those bad-ass grandmothers. Grandma lived with my immediate family for most of my childhood. Every morning she cooked us a hot breakfast and then sat with us while we ate. Grandma (with the help of Grandpa) cultivated a vegetable garden that would put most small farms to shame. She was sweet as sugar, but at the same time tough and fearless - I once witnessed her kill a rattlesnake with a shovel. What? Yes. She wanted to make sure the snake never came back into the yard for fear that it might bite us so she beat the thing to death. 

Grandma grew up on an island in South Korea, bore nine children, and was the wife of the captain of a fishing boat. She was often left alone for weeks or months at a time to raise her children (one of which was my mother) in a two room home. After my mom (the youngest girl of the lot) married my American father, my grandparents came to the States. 

While life was a bit more comfortable in the States I think my grandmother remembered the times when she went without. Fruit was a huge luxury during my Grandmother's time in Korea. We often went cherry picking when cherry season came around, and my Grandmother, bless her heart, would wear pants with the deepest pockets and slip cherries in them till they were bulging.

Grandma passed over five years ago, but she is missed and remembered by my entire family. Lots of things during my day to day life remind me of her, but when cherries come into season I always think of her and cherry picking.

We never cooked with cherries growing up - just ate them fresh. But now that it's just two at home when I have the wonderful fortune of too many cherries I have to think of different ways to use them. Thanks to some advice from my twittering foodie friends I decided to go with a cherry clafoutis. I contacted my former boss and pastry chef extraordinaire, Belinda Leong, for a tasty clafoutis recipe. She's just back in San Francisco after two years of working with the best pastry chefs in the best restaurants all over Europe. She's got something in the works you lucky San Franciscans. 

I baked mine in a cast iron skillet for no other reason than it was the perfect size, but it worked like a charm. I'd like to say I left the pits in the cherries because it is French tradition to do so, but in reality I've been cooking for the past two years without any kitchen gadgets (referring to the cherry pitter here), so couldn't be bothered with pitting. Worked great and prevented any bleeding of the cherries. Just warn your guests before they dive in and break a tooth. 

This recipe makes one clafoutis in a deep 6-inch cast iron skillet. It's the perfect amount for four, or in our case a greedy couple. You could divide the batter amongst buttered and sugared ramekins.

 

CHERRY CLAFOUTIS

• 2 large eggs
• 80 grams sugar
• 32 grams all-purpose flour
• 40 grams almond flour
• 100 grams whole milk
• 100 grams heavy cream
• 20 whole cherries (approx.), cleaned with stems off

METHOD

Preheat oven to 350F. Heavily butter a cast iron skillet. Combine the milk + cream together in a container. Combine the flour + almond flour in a bowl. Gently whisk them together to combine and break up any clumps of flour. Whisk together eggs + sugar in a medium bowl. Once eggs + sugar are combined, whisk them into the bowl of combined flours. Slowly stream the liquid into the bowl while whisking. Pour into the buttered cast iron skillet. Evenly distribute the whole cherries. Carefully place in the oven. Bake for about 18-20 minutes until the clafoutis is set and golden brown on top. Eat immediately. Absolutely not necessary but feel free to serve with a splash of fresh cream.

Seafood + Socca

The best part of traveling to beach towns is relaxing by the water...

And eating damn good seafood. Just a stones throw from Italy, Nice is the perfect place to execute one of Earth's most delicious combinations - seafood and pasta. Can I interest you in some clams + linguine...

 Or, fruits de mer + spaghetti?

What could be better than adding a bit of pasta? Fresh artichokes.

Like so - 

Grilled, succulent, baby octopus with artichoke, finished with a bit of fresh tomato and parsley. It's quite a problem that I only have one stomach and the metabolism I seemed to have in college has come to a screeching halt. But, you've got to make room for the local specialities and make promises to yourself that you'll do an extra few minutes on the treadmill when you return. Especially when I only have two days to enjoy what Nice has to offer.

Local to Nice is Socca - a thin, chickpea pancake cooked for a few minutes in a hot wood-fired oven. It starts as a very liquidy batter and olive oil.

It's then whisked together and pushed closer to the fire.

It puffs a little and browns. It's best tongue-burning hot right out of the wood-fired oven.

Its the ultimate Nice street food. If you're ever passing through Nice make sure you get some and its worth the wait to get a serving just out of the oven. 

Squash Blossoms + Nice Farmers Market

Coeur de Boeuf (Beefheart) Tomatoes from the market in Nice, France

London city life is quite overwhelming for me. You've got to be on alert all the time - dodging people, taxis, buses, pigeons, and menacing clouds. I try not to breath to deep because if I'm out in the city all day my nostrils are filled with soot. It can be a bit taxing on the soul. To help recharge my batteries my husband, who has spoiled me rotten, takes me to wonderful places on the weekend. Latest stop - the French Riviera. 

The beach, the sun, the Mediterranean, the warm air, friendly French people, the market...in other words, as close to heaven as you can get 2 hours away from London. It wasn't my first visit to Nice, so I knew the highlight would be swim and sun at the beach and the produce at the market in the Old Town. 

The first time I went to Nice many, many, years ago was for the Cannes Film Festival and I was lucky enough to be invited by a Roger Verge protege for lunch at Verge's restaurant, Le Moulin de Mougins. Verge is considered to be one of the great french chefs and pioneers of nouvelle cuisine. Le Moulin de Mougins is a converted 16th century olive mill that includes a small inn and cooking school, and one of the best restaurants I have ever eaten at. The squash blossoms at the market reminded me of the wonderful lunch, which included many firsts for me, like chicken breast stuffed with foie and lightly fried squash blossoms.  

While some of these peaches I returned home with, I knew the squash blossoms would not survive the trip.

So, when I returned to London I went on a search for squash blossoms. I couldn't find them anywhere, so I waited till the end of the week for Borough Market, because I knew if anyone in London had squash blossoms it would be Borough. Through the roof pricey so I just got a few.

STUFFED SQUASH BLOSSOM, makes 1/2 dozen

• 1/2 c ricotta cheese, drained overnight in cheesecloth
• 1/2 c fresh mozzarella, medium dice 
• 1/3 c fresh, raw corn kernels 
• 1 large salted anchovy fillet, rinsed and patted dry, then minced 
• 6 squash blossoms, stamen removed, gently rinsed and patted dry 
• flour + pepper for dredging 
• 2 eggs lightly beaten for dredging. 
• olive oil for frying 

 
METHOD

Combine first four ingredients in a bowl. I'm not a huge fan of herbes de provence - quelle horreur! But, if you do enjoy herbes de provence add a few pinches to the mixture. Use pastry bag or small spoon to fill the squash blossoms. Fill to where the petals start to split. Press gently in the palm of your hand and twist the petals gently to close the blossom. Before you fry consider making a small side salad. I made one with zucchini, tomatoes, parsley, splash of olive oil, and s+p. 

Pour enough oil in a pot to submerge the blossoms 1/2 way up. While the oil is heating, lightly dust stuffed blossoms with flour with pepper, then in the egg, then back in flour. When the oil is hot for frying (I don't use a thermometer, just drop a pinch of flour in the oil and see if it bubbles up). Gently drop the blossoms in the oil. I did two at a time. After 1 minute or when the blossom starts to brown on the bottom, gently flip the blossom over. When the blossom is totally golden brown, remove from oil onto paper-towels. Sprinkle lightly with sea salt. Serve immediately.   

If anchovies aren't your thing try a bit of chopped olives instead.

I know I have Borough Market, but the taste of the fruits in Nice really is something to write home about.

More on the seafood and socca (chickpea flour pancakes) of Nice in a few days!

Salted Caramel + Poilane Bakery

The greatest mistake of my life - well it wasn't actually my mistake, but that's beside the point - was when a kitchen intern accidentally put four times the amount of salt in an ice cream base I was having her make. Rather than throw the batch out we tweaked the recipe and turned into a deep caramel colored ice cream that was sweet, and salty. I'm definitely a believer of a pinch of salt in everything pastry, but extra salt with buttery, creamy caramel is out of this world. Salted caramel is certainly not new, as the French in Brittany have been making it for ages. However, the love for the flavor of salted caramel has grown exponentially this past year. 

It's been weeks since I've been to Paris (yes, you can hate me that I can jump on a train and be in Paris in two hours) and I'm out of my favorite Parisienne CBS caramels (Caramel au Beurre Sale).*** But, Chez Pim reminded me that I can try and recreate the flavor at home. Oh, and the sables she uses as a vehicle to eat the salted caramel I don't have to make because the best part of Paris has a location in London. 

You must be wondering what the best part of Paris is? Poilane Bakery, of course. You've got to check out their whimsical website and if you are in London or Paris anytime soon, their bakeshops are a must. Poilane started baking bread in 1932, but their Paris location in Saint-Germain had been the basement bakery of a 17th century monastery. Poilane bakes bread in the same tradition of this bakery, which was producing wood-fired sourdough loaves during the time of Marie Antoinette! 

A few of my favorites, aside from the bread, at Poilane, is the apple tart, with huge chunks of apple so you know exactly what you are getting into...

And a lovely, not too sweet vanilla custard cake (in the middle)...

Almost as famous as their bread are these little, buttery cookies called punitions. Punishment in French, and you can eat an entire box before realizing what you have done. These are ridiculously expensive to have shipped, but smitten kitchen has provided a solution to this matter.

So, back to where I started - salted caramel. I used good French butter, but it wasn't salted, so I added a 1/4 tsp of salt to the recipe. Chez Pim makes chocolate ganache to keep the caramel from oozing out, though once the caramel cooled to a certain temperature it stayed put. This would be lovely over vanilla ice cream if you don't want to bother with the sables.

SALTED CARAMEL (adapted from Chez Pim)

• 120 g sugar
• 60 g unsalted butter 
• 100 ml or 1/4 c + 2 Tbs cream   
• 1/4 scraped vanilla bean 
• 1/4 tsp salt (omit if you are using salted butter)  

METHOD

Melt sugar over medium heat. Cook till sugar turns amber. Add cream (microwave or heat the cream so it is warm... this will help to avoid the major spitter spatter of hot sugar) and mix well. Add bits of butter, vanilla bean and salt. Make sure everything is well combined and set aside to cool. Spoon onto sables, or whatever shortbread you might have and sandwich.

 
*** C.B.S. or Caramel au Beurre Sale is hands down the most divine thing I have ever tasted. I even walked for hours flipping my map every which way near the seedy Moulin Rouge to procure what has been rumored to be the best salted caramel in the world. P.S. It is! 

C.B.S. caramels by Henri Le Roux can be found at A l'Etoile d'Or - Denise Acabo at 30 rue Fontaine, 75009 Paris 

Poilane in Paris: 8 rue du Cherche-Midi, 75006 or 49 boulevard de Grenelle, 75015

Poilane in London: 46 Elizabeth Street, SW1W 9PA 

Flammkuchen and Handbrot - German Christmas Market, Part 2

Of all the food offerings at the Berlin Christmas Markets our favorite was the Flammkuchen and Handbrot. First, the Handbrot...a whole wheat bread with a gooey cheese and bacon inside baked in a wood-fired oven and then slathered with creme fraiche and sprinkled with chives.

The bread dough is rolled flat and the piped with a thick Mornay sauce and then rolled and pinched shut. Mornay is a Bechamel sauce (one of the traditional mother sauces made of milk and thickened with cooked flour and butter, or roux) that has cheese, usually Gruyere, added to it.

No reason for fancy ovens - a wood fired oven and a spray bottle of water create the perfect heat + steam combination for this oven handbrot.

It was served to us hot from the oven with cool creme fraiche and chives. Need I say more?

Well, yes. The handbrot was trumped by the flammkuchen. It's better known as the Tarte Flambe in France and Flammekueche in Alsace. It has a similar history to the petit four - a little something to test the heat of the oven before oven thermometers existed. The flammkuchen is a yeasted dough rolled thin, a bit of fromage blanc or creme fraiche is spread over and topped with thick-cut smoked bacon bits. When it comes out of the oven, green onion is sprinkled on top. So simple, yet so delicious.

I first experienced this wonderful creation in Paris at Flam's..

The version above was a bit dressed up with more cheese and the addition of mushrooms, but I must say I do prefer the one below - the wonderfully simple Flammkuchen I had at the German Christmas Market.

This would be really easy to make at home...I'm now on the search for the perfect yeasted whole wheat dough to recreate my own flammkuchen at home.