It’s early Thanksgiving morning. I suspect many respectable cooks are already in the kitchen pouring over the plan, adding to the list and organizing theday. The result, of course, will be the tasty holiday meal expected by all the lucky guests at your table.
I am enjoying a quiet moment and my first cup of coffee. It’s a perfect time to share this week’s French Fridays with Dorie recipe choice,Sugar-crusted French Toast. Readers, give thanks.
Pain Perdu means lost bread in French. In America where we call a spade, a spade, this translates to stale. Today we’re using our stale bread for stuffing but we most often toss those crumbs away. Not the thrifty French. They turn stale into heavenly sugar-crusted french toast.
Use brioche or challah. Although I used brioche this time, I often have challah on hand. Soak either of these breads in a mixture of eggs, whole milk, heavy cream, vanilla and salt. Cook the moist bread until golden and crusty in a pan of melted butter with a generous sprinkling of sugar.
Need I say more?
Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers. Happy Hanukkah to my Jewish friends and colleagues. Although Thanksgiving has always been our family’s favorite holiday, today seems especially joyous.
I’m happily resettled in Colorado and have resumed a life, albeit different but a perfect now. The past few days, on my way to California, I stopped in Henderson/Las Vegas to visit old haunts and enjoy those amazing friends who befriended Michael and me for the nine years we lived in Nevada. We’ve kept in touch, as I knew we would, and I still feel an integral part of their neighborhood.
Now I am with my family in Death Valley National Park where we have spent our last five Thanksgivings. After our fancy-schmanzy holiday meal at the Furnace Creek Inn – my son-in-law wears a tie – we go casual and it’s all fun. I no longer see my kids as often (they are thriving in spite of that – who knew???) so we are making every minute count.
And, as always and everyday, I am thankful for my growing virtual community of friends. You are a gift that unexpectedly dropped into my lap three years ago. Merci beaucoup.
Life is neither simple nor easy but I’ve always believed my motor chugs along more happily if I concentrate on the glass-half-full, lemonade-out-of-lemon theory. Toss in a serving of Sugar-crusted French Toast and it’s even better.
It’s my theory that the recipes found on the back of food packages are worth trying. In fact, Best Recipes, From the backs of Boxes, Bottles, Cans and Jars, by Ceil Dyer, is a cookbook that celebrates just that. Leafing through this 589-page book is a stroll down memory lane. While I no longer whip up Lipton’s California Dip or Hershey’s Fudge Cake, our family holidays would not be complete without a triple batch of Chex Party Mix and a Barcardi Rum Cake.
Grated Comté
Dorie originally spotted this week’s recipe on a card distributed to fromageries throughout France by the Comté cheese producers. After a twist here with a tweak there, our leader adapted their recipe into her own and published Back-of-the-Card Cheese & Olive Bread in Around My French Table.
The ingredients tell a tasty story – tapenade, coarsely grated Comté, chopped oil-cured black olives and grated lemon zest. Toss these together with the usual suspects, flour, baking powder, eggs, milk and olive oil, for a bread loaf that is distinctively different from the usual. Serve it as a pre-dinner nibble with white wine or Champagne, as Dorie suggests, or, with a salad.
This was a perfect addition to a dine-with-your-mind dinner party I attended this week. Our hostess, who had just finished reading Catherine the Great, Portrait of a Woman by Robert Massie invited some friends to choose a monarch, prepare a short presentation about the royal, and make a dinner dish representative of the ruler’s country.
Game on!
A “French Fridays with Dorie” make-up recipe, Dauphinois Pommes (potato gratin)
I choose Eleanor of Aquitaine, the wife of two kings, mother of three kings, and a key political figure of the Middle Ages/twelfth century. Since my hostess asked me to bring a side dish, this was a perfect opportunity to also make Dorie’s Pommes Dauphinois (pages 360-361), a potato gratin made before my joining French Fridays with Dorie and arguably the most traditional potato dish in France. What’s not delicious about heavy cream, russet potatoes and Gruyère? Caloric? Yes. Artery-clogging? You bet. But, delicious.
A salute to five centuries of female monarchs: the baubles tossed on the table were genuine. The diamond tiara holding the flowers was on loan from the Tower of London.
Mind-dining is fun. We each learned much we didn’t know about Eleanor (1122-1204), and also, Queen Isabella of Spain (1451-1504); Mary, Queen of Scots (1542-1587); Catherine the Great, (1729-1796); Queen Victoria (1819-1901); and, Queen Elena of Italy (1873-1952). As you see in the picture, we also had fun, each of us was crowned with the diamond tiara when we presented our monarch and our recipe.
Whoops! We needed a bathroom break. Francine, who is ready to dish on Queen Victoria and dessert (Frambroisie St. George) waits patiently (#%@&%).
Although our hostess assigned us specific courses, we did not coordinate our evening’s menu. To our surprise every course from the antipasto platter to the salmon to the dessert, Framboises St. George, meshed together beautifully. Because so much thought was put into this dinner by each of us, the evening translated into a very special gathering that I might urge you each to try.
Today, Friday the 14th, the 31st Aspen Food & Wine Classic begins. I’ll be sharing it with you next week. Dorie recently mentioned on her Facebook page that her company, Beurre & Sel, shipped 2750 cookies to Aspen for this event. I think, it’s just my guess, that Kobrand Wine & Spirits is going to serve her cookies with their products. Although it’s not official, I understand that Ms. Greenspan is also going to be in town. Stay tuned…………
The two recipes featured this week can be found here (Pommes Dauphinois) and here (Pain de fromage et d’olive). To see what my colleagues created this week, go here.
If you’re a devotée of French toast baked from a rich buttery bread soaked in a batter with just enough sugar to caramelize both sides and thick, creamy vanilla custard, this week’s recipe, Coupétade, will be a palate-pleaser.
Disclaimer: What works on the palate may not be so pleasing on the hips. Served warm, for breakfast or brunch and covered with a dash of syrup, or cold, as a dessert topped with crème fraîche, this is opulence on a plate. Since I spent last weekend hiking in picturesque Moab, Utah, on an Audubon-sponsored field trip, I sampled this week’s fare free of calorie guilt-angst. More about that later.
First, make the French toast. After cutting each bread slice in half, arrange them in a cooking pan. Then, and this is the fun part, nestle-and-tuck pieces of dried fruit over, under and in-between the cooked bread. (Kids would love this job.) I used halved dates and raisins.
Next, make the vanilla custard. Pour the custard into the pan. Allow it to set ten minutes before placing into a water bath, sliding it carefully into a 325 degree oven. Bake for 90 minutes or until the custard is set.
Personally I loved this right from the oven, topped with g-e-n-u-i-n-e maple syrup. After chilling it overnight and topping it with crème fraîche, I served it as a dessert. Did I like it cold? Not so much. But, warm with syrup, right from the oven? Yum.
Last weekend I joined our local Roaring Fork Audubon Society club on a riparian and upland birding field trip in Moab, a rugged little community located about 250 miles from Aspen in the Utah desert. Although the trip was billed as a “moderately strenuous to strenuous” outingI have participated in many birding junkets. They all have been gentle in elevation and slowly paced. Regarding strenuous??? Not even close. Obviously, Roaring Fork Audubon never received that memo.
I maintain a somewhat rigorous exercise schedule, priding myself on being fit and able. Although I realized, when returning to Colorado, I would be humbled by the athletic prowess of my friends and colleagues, I couldn’t imagine it being in Moab while birding.
To be clear, the trip, led by a biologist and geologist who both birded by ear, was fantastic. A birding short course with geology, biology and ecology added as extra credit. The desert was in bloom, the birds, in love, and the petroglyphs, waiting to be discovered.
Add to that, “moderately strenuous to strenuous”.
Claret-cup Hedgehog Cactus. This cactus is pollinated by hummingbirds.
Twelve of us gathered, early Saturday morning, in a Moab parking lot. Although a friend, another volunteer Forest Ranger, and I had each booked rooms at the Ramada Inn for the weekend, most of the others were camping in the local campgrounds. So, already we felt like wusses.
The short version to my tale is the trail was steep, the rocks, crumbly and the pace, brisk. We climbed up to Hidden Valley, birding and learning as we hiked. Then we climbed further to have lunch by the petroglyphs, a surreal dining experience. The hike down to the trailhead, in mid-afternoon, seemed just as rigorous, after a long, sunny six hours of hiking.
After the initial climb up to Hidden Valley. Headed towards the peak ahead for lunch.
At the base of the trail, one of our leaders had a brilliant suggestion. “Let’s all go to Milt’s,” she said, “and have a milkshake.”
Now that sounded to me like a Plan.
“Then,” she added, “we’ll gather at 3:00pm for our afternoon hike at Mill Creek.”
Seriously? More?
Readers, I bailed. Yep, slunk off, even foregoing the milkshake. My Ramada Inn partner-in-crime continued and later reported to walking through 12” of water during the late-afternoon. Holy Smokes.
To be truthful, six hours of hiking is a long day for me and, albeit disappointed with my stamina, I was pleased with my performance. Since I have no shame, I quickly located Moab’s local’s bar, Woody’s, took a seat at the counter and ordered a cold beer. (Free pretzels.) Yep, I was the oldest female in the establishment and the only patron without a tattoo. Fun. I’ve got a month before the snow clears on Aspen’s trails when I need to be Ranger-ready. Memo to Me: Pick up your game.
And, that’s why I didn’t worry about the calories in my Coupétade.
To see how my colleagues coped with their calories this week, go here and to try this marvelous recipe, go here. A Happy Mother’s Day to all you Mothers, Grandmothers, generous, loving Aunts (that’s you, MIchelle) and kind, doting friends ( Adriana, you’re the one). It takes us all to get these kids raised, doesn’t it. I’m in California with my family this week. Today Melissa and I are going on a Mother-Daughter hike. Hopefully, she’ll be kind!!!
Lacey (l) and Molly are just two of the many young people at The Gant in Aspen, where I live, who keep my life on-track. All of them are eager and willing food-testers. Both the girls liked the addition of mint to the apple jelly glaze. ” And Kiley (another Gant employee) doesn’t even like mint at all, Mrs Hirsch,” Molly told me. “She honestly cannot stand it, but she liked the minty flavor of the topping and thought it was really, really good.”
Yep, today’s French Fridays with Dorie recipe choice is a tart. To my thinking, however, there is nothing about this tasty dessert that looks tarty. As Dorie explained, “It’s so thin and crackly, you get to eat it out of hand.”
Have you ever met a tart that is “thin and crackly” ? What makes it so are multiple sheets of filo dough, each sheet carefully slathered with butter, piled in layers. This was my first experience with fragile, easily torn, uncooperative filo dough. Surprisingly, it was no problem.
Hold that thought……
As I was walking through the Cooper Street Mall in Aspen this afternoon, I spotted a one-to-two year old black bear, napping in a tree. This cub, in all probability, has been abandoned by his Mother who is more concerned right now about packing on 30 to 40 pounds of body fat to survive hibernation and give birth to the next generation of bears. This cub, who obviously cannot find enough food to eat, will probably not last through the winter.
Let’s talk Bear Business. Last week I returned to my home in Aspen to stay until Thanksgiving. This is a particularly lovely time of year because the fall color extravaganza is ending and there’s no snow in sight. Translation: no tourists. Although we love, adore, need and want tourists – we are a resort community, after all – every so often it’s nice to grab our town back.
This fall, more than ever, we are sharing our town with black bears. According to Colorado Parks & Wildlife, there are about 16,000 blackies in Colorado. Aspen is probably the epicenter of bear-human interaction in the state. This year, as the bears prepare for hibernation, needing 30 to 40 pounds of extra body fat for winter survival, they are more desperate than ever for food.
Colorado has been scorched by a summer of fires, the drought has destroyed the bears’ food supply and more homes are infringing into bear habitats. Serviceberry and chokecherry bushes as well as other natural food sources are being bulldozed under for development. Unable to find natural food sources, at night, these savvy and hungry bears wander into town, dismembering our crab apple trees and dumpster-diving into the ones that are unsecured. Although it’s against the law to leave dumpsters and garbage cans unsecured, every night five or six bears charge into downtown to scrounge for their daily rations. By day they sometimes hang in a tree, napping, in the heart of downtown Aspen.
An adult Colorado black bear can weigh anywhere from 150 pounds (a sow) to over 350-400 pounds (a male).
These guys even have their own Facebook page, Aspen Bears.
The little bear I saw this afternoon, dozing in a tree on the Cooper Street Mall, is probably an abandoned cub. It’s “survival of the fittest”, the mother’s harsh reality. She’s gone off to take care of herself.
Those of us who live here try to protect our bears. There are laws, strictly enforced, to make our county “bear-proof”. Once a bear, considered a nuisance, is tagged, the next naughty-bear report means euthanasia. As local writer Barry Petersen wrote, “ Most people in Aspen stay cool about it all, perhaps remembering that the houses and cars and streetlights are all late arrivals — that, in truth, it was the bears who for centuries have thought of this area as their home.”
The tart with its eight layers of buttered filo dough, almond cream and then, apples, ready to bake at 350 degrees for 35 minutes.
Thanks for allowing me a timeout for our wild animals. Now, let’s get back to the tart.
Luckily, this recipe for the Crispy, Crackly Apple-Almond Tart is here and I suspect if you try it, you’ll love it. I made the almond cream 2 days ahead and then brought it to room temperature before spreading it on the delicate filo dough. If you haven’t baked with filo before, it will not be difficult if you carefully follow the directions on the filo box and in Dorie’s recipe. I chose Braeburn apples to peel, slice and fan onto the tart base.
The tart, baked and glazed
Since I could not find apple jelly for the glaze, I used mint apple jelly and really enjoyed the additional slight minty tang. Although we ate this immediately, the tart can also be served at room temperature. Next time I might even dump a scoop of ice cream on top!
In Dorie Greenspan’s description of this week’s recipe choice, Popovers, she writes, “Many of us have fond memories of the messy thrill of eating popovers dripping with butter and honey.”
Popover Batch #2, Baked in Henderson, Nevada, Elevation 2190′
AlthoughI searched my personal Memory Bank very carefully, I have no such messy memories. Growing up in Manchester, Iowa, a small Midwestern farm community of 4,000 people, I don’t recall a popover ever crossing my path. As a 30-something adult, I first discovered these lovely puffy critters and enjoy them whenever the opportunity arises.
Making them myself? Really?
Mise en Place for Popover Batch #1. Question: What ingredient is missing from this photo? Answer: Eggs
Since for this week’s Tuesdays Post I would be back in Aspen (elevation 7890’), I decided to bake the popovers last Wednesday, just before leaving Nevada (elevation 2180’). While preparing my first batch, I experienced a Mise en Place-Fail. Note to Readers: If you don’t add 3 large eggs, at room temperature, to your Popover batter, the result will be hockey pucks.
JEOPARDY: Answer: Hockey Pucks. Question: What do you get when you don’t add 3 eggs to a Popover recipe?
Before leaving Nevada, I had time for one do-over and the result was Good, not Better or Best, but Good. To be honest, “Good” really doesn’t work for me. I needed a Better and Best.
The custardy interior of Batch #2, baked in Henderson, Nevada, elevation 2180′.
After arriving in Aspen, I fired off an SOS e-mail to my new friend, Marilyn Kakudo aka Piebird, a member of our Tuesdays with Dorie group, who lives in Boulder, Colorado. I consider her blog, Cook Teach Learn Grow, a must-read because she so clearly explains, through words, the art of baking. If I was going to attempt Popovers at high altitude, I needed Marilyn’s high altitude expertise.
Popover Batch #3, baked in Aspen, Colorado, elevation 7890′.
In what I now know to be true Kakudo-style, Marilyn wrote a rather lengthy instructive e-mail explaining how to bake Popovers à la Aspen. Yesterday I did just that and the result was Better. At almost 8000’, I’m okay with Better because this week’s Post does have a Best.
Colorado Popover…….Better.
The “Best” is what I discovered about “Chef Marilyn” as she is known in the Denver-area. Among our midst of dedicated home bakers (like me) are some phenomenal cooks with remarkable resumes who add so much depth to our Tuesday group. (It’s not for nothing that I was an investigative business reporter.) What I discovered is that Marilyn, who left a successful high tech career to pursue a culinary one, is in the latter group. Her food and wine credentials are impressive. As for me, I’m quite pleased and appreciative that she takes the time and makes the effort to share her considerable knowledge and experience with all of us. And, she does it very quietly.
Because I was moving back to the Colorado High Country with its high altitude baking challenges, I questioned whether I should continue baking with this Tuesday group. Considering that I think Marilyn will have my back, I’m all in.
A smokey Sunday afternoon view of the Rockies from the Aspen Mountain Club at the top of Ajax. The smoke continues to roll in from the fierce Pacific Northwest fires.
Thanks to Paula, our Buenos Aires baker and Amy, who bakes for a family of five, for hosting this week and sharing with everyone the Popover recipe, originated by the late Marian Cunningham. Cunningham, an American culinary icon, died last month at the age of 90.
Sunday morning began, to use a bread term, rather crumbly.
This week’s Tuesday with Dorie/Baking with Julia recipe, Semolina Bread. Ohhhhh, it’s so yummy.
Up early, as usual, to watch the 14th stage of the Tour de France. Sadly, the 150-some racers met Trouble. Towards the end of the race and just before the brutally steep Mur de Péguère summit, some idiot tossed tacks onto the road. Bicycle tires don’t play well with upholstery tacks. That appalling act of sabotage resulted in at least 30 riders suffering 48 punctures and one sustaining a suspected broken collar bone in a crash.
Defending champion Cadel Evans suffered three different punctures which stopped him cold and would have put him out of the competition. However, Tour leader Bradley Wiggins, a Brit now wearing the yellow jersey, drew approval and accolades for sitting tall on his bike, slowing the pace, and waiting for the defending champ and others to regroup and join the peloton. Score One for the Good Guys.
Watch Magic Happen: Start with a Sponge. Mix Warm Water, Yeast, All-Purpose Flour and Give It 2 Hours to Rise.
Following that drama it was on to this week’s Tuesday with Dorie/Baking with Julia. This week it’s a quickly and easily mixed Semolina Bread. As I walked into the kitchen, the tour over, I decided if Bradley could rise to the occasion,I could rise to the occasion, making bread that would, uh, rise.
Two hours later, the Sponge plus flours, salt and olive oil make this cute little ball of goodness. Don’t you love making bread?
Famed baker Nick Malgieri showed Julia how to make this deliciously nutty-tasting bread. If you’re thinking Semolina loaves are more Italian than French, you’re right. This flour is milled from durum wheat, the flour used to make pasta.
It takes ten minutes to whisk together the sponge and two hours to let it double in size. Once mixed together with flour, olive oil and salt, it turns into a lovely dough that needs another two hours rising time. Then you form the dough into a loaf, transfer it on to a parchment paper-lined baking sheet lightly covered with corn meal, and for the next two hours let that baby rise again.
Here, I admit to a little error . When I shaped and prepared the dough for the second rising, I “slashed” prematurely. Should have waited until after the rising. Whoops.
Slash and bake.
This is a tasty but unassuming and rather plain loaf of artisan bread. It’s color, a wonderfully warm golden brown, is what separates it from the crowd. Enjoy.
If you’d like to make this bread, I encourage you to jump to this site. To read what other Dorie/Julia fans baked this week, go here.
