Paris vs New York – THEFRANCOFLY

Pâtisseries et gâteaux d’Amérique

Here it is! It’s my lovechild and she is due the 29th of April, 2015.

When I moved back to Paris 4 years ago, the city was on the verge of American over-saturation. Le Camion Qui Fume scandalized as it smoked up the museum-quality streets of Paris. I was shocked to discover Marshmallow Fluff and Easy Cheese filling an aisle of a nearby bookshop. At my most vulnerable, I ate “authentic” cupcakes as dense as butter cookies. Nevertheless I was seeing my culture impersonated and regurgitated into a 10 euro jar of Jif. The demand was flattering, but not exactly what I had left back in the States.

Seeing the lack of authentic American cookbooks, I have been trying to get one off the ground for several years now. American baking is not all about reconstituting processed ingredients like in the books I had seen in the French cookbook market. In my new book Pâtisseries et gâteaux d’Amérique, I focused on recipes that have the same respect for quality ingredients that even the French could revere. And thanks to Marabout for helping me make it happen. Pâtisseries et gâteaux d’Amérique has over 64 pages of colorful, step-by-step recipes. And the American desserts that I know and love.

Pre-order a copy today on Amazon.

Note: The book is written in French, but generously illustrated in watercolor. It’s still a belle objet that can be shared with anyone.

Pâtisseries et gâteaux d’Amérique (Editions Marabout) 5€99.

La vie en rose.

Cheesy old me, there is nothing that puts a twinkle in my toes and opens my eyes more to the beauty of Paris than hearing an accordian playing on the street. I have possibly seen Funny Face too many times, but nothing turns Paris into a soundstage quicker than a little live music. Moving from New York to Paris, the first thing I noticed was that metro musicians are on a French schedule. They stay put on a car, performing a whole concert (from “Comme d’habitude” to “New York, New York”) for their audience of zombies, never sacrificing their artistic merit for a few extra centimes. Last week, I saw a fearless Michael Jackson impersonator moonwalking his way down line 1, from Chateau de Vincennes all the way to La Defense. I did not even see him solicit money. In New York, musicians hussle their way through the Metro, maximizing their productivity, hitting and quitting each car between two stations.

I love street performers. There is no better way to snap out of reality for a few short minutes. Or maybe it is just what reality is.

Bon week-end, les amis.

. . . . .

Facebook / Twitter / Pinterest

Cassoulet

When I moved back to the States, I was awfully thankful to have moved back to a food-centric city like New York. It certainly helps having a distraction from all I left behind in France. But these days, I’ve been eating on dime. Fortunately, I recently started working in a sleek little tapas restaurant, which gives me enough culinary thrills to make it through with my weekly pot of beans at home. (Pickled ramps do wonders for my morale!) Nevertheless, I had a bag of dried beans lying around (gulp) and had the ambition to recreate a rustic French dish by the name of cassoulet. It is a slow-cooked stew of white beans with the hearty addition of various meat parts, which can include duck legs, sausages, and pork pieces. I have never actually made this dish for myself. But like most time-starved French home cooks, a delightful version can be found in the prepared food isle at the local Monoprix in Paris. But this time around, I was nostalgic for some French comfort food this rainy week in New York. Although I had aimed for a traditional meat-centric version, I was discouraged my local Greek bodega does not carry any of the duck fragments traditionally used in the recipe. So I took the challenge to make it sans meat, which turned into a tasty abomination of the classic. Since I had the luxury of an afternoon off, I was hoping to cook it slowly until it attained the same silky hearth of my fond food memory of the dish. And I was quite pleased with what I came up with! As soon as the thyme hit the sautéing carrots, celery, and onions, France was all up in my face. It made me nostalgic for the sunshine in the South of France and the lazy nights C would reheat a jar of this French favorite. I’d recommend to serve with baguette, but that’s one bit of nostalgia still to be satisfied…

1 16oz. bag of white beans, soaked in water overnight and drained

1 medium red onion, chopped

12 oz. chopped carrots

1 cup chopped celery

2 tomatoes chopped finely

5 stalks of thyme tied together with string (bouquet garnis)

1 handful chopped Italian flat-leaf parsley

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1 teaspoons salt

1 teaspoon black pepper

zest of 1 lemon, minced

1.) Sautee onions, carrots, celery, salt, and pepper for 8 minutes until caramelized and tender. Add chopped garlic, thyme, and tomatoes. Stir until fragrant.

2.) Add the soaked beans and 5 cups of water to the mixture. Let come to a simmer.

3.) Cook over a low heat for 60-90 minutes until the beans are soft and the broth thickens. Add more water if needed.

4.) Pull out thyme bouquet. Stir in lemon zest and parsley. Season to taste! And enjoy!

Presque-etarian

So I am back in NYC after a two-week trip to Butterville. Don’t get me wrong, I love that I have the ability to pick up and return to France whenever I can. But after returning to New York from my hiatus vacation to Paris, my bod is barking for some detox. Mind you, I strive for clean living and eating in my homeland. I have subsided off of a lentil-heavy, poverty-inspired diet over the past few months in New York. But as soon as my feet touch the ground and are accessible to a boulangerie, there is no turning back. But this time around, there was a bit of a change…

C, Monsieur Meat & Potatoes himself, recently picked up on the organic, pro-veg trend. Halleluiah, I say! I am not a vegetarian, but I strive to be. A presque-etarian, if you will. But there were countless dinners for C where I would shellac, layer, and roast vegetables in all their seasonal glory only to hear post-dinner about his need for meat. The ultimate expression of his transformation was when he suggested we try out a macrobiotic restaurant, which was recommended to him by a friend. Now I don’t know much about macrobiotics, but I do know it’s crunchy and something Gwenyth discusses in Instyle Magazine. From the limited menu, we both ordered the veggie bowl. It arrived as a sephia color wheel of lentils, vegetable porridge, seaweeds, and grain cakes. Sadly, it lacked texture and all the color and life that make vegetables so exciting for me to prepare and enjoy. C so generously spooned most of his dinner onto my plate and I knew that this dinner’s final destination would be McDonald’s. Sure enough, we wrapped up the evening sitting side-by-side as I enviously watched him happily eating his McNuggets wishing I hadn’t filled up on millet cake. Nevertheless, we are taking small steps towards culinary compatibility!