foodie – Page 2 – THEFRANCOFLY

French yogurt and its culture

Yaourt. Although my tongue still hasn’t wrapped around the right pronunciation yet (Is it yAo-oort? YA-OOrt? Ya-oURt?), I’ve never loved yogurt more. Just take a look at the selection!

Today, on this dreadfully dreary day in Paris, jessiekanelos.wordpress.com delivers its first taste of hard journalism. I will test the limits of my curiosity and my lactose tolerance for the hard facts on my neighborhood grocery’s yogurt isle.

I never really like yogurt in the States because there really is not much variety. It is often overly sweet with cloying artificial flavors. Wouldn’t you think yogurt cultures would be canceled out by a cotton candy flavor? It gets more and more difficult to find a plain version. However, according to Wikiyogurt, the French eat around 21 kilos of yogurt a year. French fridges are continuously well-stocked. It is a go-to breakfast, snack, and dessert. But the word yaourt can be deceiving. It often refers to the cream desserts, pudding cups, and often single-serving desserts that share the yogurt isle.

How clever! Yogurt with the granola already mixed in!

Licorice and mint? Some flavors are better admired than tried.

Porfiteroles, clafoutis, creme brulee, chocolate mouse. Just take a look at the Greatest Hits of French desserts carefully disguised among the yogurt. Everywhere I look in Paris these days, there is a new USA burger, bagel & cookie diner. The yogurt isle is just as trendy with its “le cheese cake” and “les cookies”.

Oh hello, cottage cheese. Fancy seeing you here!

Speaking of plain yogurt, there is just as much variety to be found. I am one spoon away from exposing it tomorrow. Stay tuned!

A Blurb on Butter

France is known for many delicious things. There’s charcuterie with all its nuance and varying levels of porkiness. Then there is the abundance of cheese. Charles de Gaulle himself so famously exclaimed, “how can anyone govern a nation that has two hundred and forty-six different kinds of cheese?” Additionally, there is butter. It is the undisputed backbone of traditional French cuisine. It is butter that gives a croissant its flaky altitude of layers. And then there is the butter of the unknown, that special ingredient that creates sensuous sauces and envelopes vegetables on a restaurant plate.

However, there is a new realm of butter that I have never known before. One recent morning, I whipped up a tartine for my husband comme d’habitude. I sliced a day-old baguette lengthwise, threw it in the toaster oven, threw a little butter on top, and let the oven do the work. I spread on a thin layer of plum jam and awaited my ‘merci’. “I don’t like it when the butter is melted”, he said. My jaw dropped. It’s toasted bread! The butter is supposed to be melted by the heat of the toast! That’s magic of breakfast right there. I shrugged it off; so particular, this husband of mine. Then over our Alpine vacation, over one of the many chats about food over coffee with my mother-in-law, she exclaimed the same disfavor for the taste of melted butter, like in pound cake. But butter is as butter does, non? I’m an intelligent person. I saw The Tree of Life. And I liked it. But somehow, I never thought about the difference between butter in its many mediums. Alas, at the end of the day, I have lot of work to do. And I am still as American as I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter!® – Spray.

Picture a Pita

I have been on a bit of a bread-making kick lately. As of now, I have not whipped up anything to give the four boulangeries on my block a run for their money. Most everything has been a bit doughy and heavy-handed like all amateur homemade bread. However, I came across a terrific recipe for pita on one of my favorite foodie sites, Gilt Taste. (Check it out here at http://www.gilttaste.com/stories/4806-make-perfect-pita). ‘Pita, you say? How granola of you to make,’ you must be thinking. ‘You might as well start making your own Windex and growing your own flaxseeds.” But at the end of the day, it’s something a bit less traditional to mess up, right? To my chagrin, it’s more or less the same recipe as pizza dough. But with the dough, there is more rolling than the Harlem Globetrotter-twirling pizza treatment.

And what’s the greatest part about homemade pita? Although there is no instant gratification in bread-making, there will be instant gratification when it hits the table. And I can attest for a lot of friends who have minimal NYC and/or twenty-something kitchens. Pita can be cooked either in an oven or in a skillet. Alongside some store-bought hummus, tabbouleh, and other Mediterranean accoutrement, it’s an instant party!