Ms. Glaze's Pommes d'Amour

Polenta Cake with Rhubarb Ribbons

This Polenta cake is a sweet throw back to my short lived career as a pastry chef in an Italian restaurant. I was coerced into the job after the real pastry chef quit and left me with a book of recipes to replicate.

All I can say is that I have lots of respect for pastry chefs. At that time, my baking qualifications were mainly centered around magic brownies and boxed Betty Crocker.

Thankfully, Italian desserts are less complicated than French ones. And, I'm pretty adept at following instructions. I did, however, mix up the various flours a few times (the bins weren't labeled) which made for some interesting interpretations.

The most difficult part of the job was forcing myself not to taste everything all of the time. I came up and down off sugar highs like a yo-yo swinging around-the-world.

Biscotti batter tastes awfully good raw and so does cheesecake batter, tuille cookie batter, chocolate molten cake batter, homemade vanilla ice cream, and proseco sorbet. Oh yes, and rhubarb compote is pretty darn delicious too.

We made a meyer lemon polenta cake with a rhubarb compote in the Spring. The original recipe is long gone and the restaurant closed years ago (too bad, it was well loved) but this is the closest approximation to what I remember.

Coarse stone ground polenta will give this cake a slightly crunchy crumb. If you want a finer crumb use cornmeal or finely ground polenta. It can be imbibed with syrup (lemon or orange) for extra moistness or left plain as in this recipe.

The rhubarb ribbon is an easy trick I picked up in France. It makes for pretty presentation and shows off rhubarb's delicate pink and green shiny layers.

And then of course there's the obligatory blackberry kir royal. Well, why not? It looks pretty with the cake.

(and tastes good too)

Technorati Tags: blackberry, compote, kir royal, polenta cake, rhubarb

Prosciutto Wrapped Scallops & Saffron Sweet Potatoes

Scallops are a sweet tasting mild fleshy bivalve that allow for endless recipe variations. They work equally well with both bright citrus flavors and smokey bacon. And somehow their unique flavor doesn't get lost in either one.

I personally get lost in bacon quite easily.

A word on scallops... in France they come fresh, popped straight from the shell, without any additives. In the States, they are mostly frozen and then thawed. When buying previously frozen scallops make sure to ask if they have additives.

Many frozen scallops have a saline solution (or some weird chemical) added that is supposed to keep them tasting juicy. However, it often ends up steaming the scallops during the cooking process making them difficult to properly sear. The best previously frozen scallops are "dry packed". They sear nicely and taste fresh without any strange milky liquid.

And a word on sweet potatoes...

They are not yams! They are a distant relative but, were domesticated in the Americas as early as 5000 years ago. They are also not kissing cousins with potatoes either, although probably closer in relation. They come in many different colors: white, orange, and purple. And, they are extremely high in nutritional value.

I came up with the idea for saffron sweet potatoes purée by mistake. I was actually trying to figure out the ingredients to a soup I had at a Spanish restaurant in Paris. But, after tasting the purée, I decided to leave it – super yummy!

The purée has no butter or cream and it is amazingly velvety in texture and rich tasting. The dandelion greens are a nice bitter contrast for the sweet potatoes and the smokiness of the prosciutto goes along with everything. I also made little white sweet potato croutons to scatter around the plate for fun and to add some crispiness.

1 potato, 2 potato, sweet potato, more!

Technorati Tags: dandelion greens, puppy, recipe, scallops, St. Jaques, sweet potato, sweet potato hash

Life On Board A French Frigate

Working in a French kitchen is like sailing on a French frigate in the 18th century heading out to war. Our code, work hours, and skills are more in line with the navy, than a bunch of tatooed swash buckling cons.

Remember, I said 'frigate'. You know, one of those ol' wind powered wooden fighting yachts with square sails and canons? Not Battlestar Galactica.

It's France, not Mars, after all. And we don't have nuclear technology aboard ship, we're still pulling ropes and hoisting sails with blistered hands and feet wrapped in toe holds. In fact sometimes I think we're still navigating by the stars.

Nonetheless, we gracefully sail onward.

Growing up in the French kitchen is a tough life. Teens sign up around the age of 18 and hand over their youth to indentured servitude knowing full well that the hours will be long, the work back breaking and monotonous, the pay ridiculously low, the camaraderie hearty, and the staff meals lousy.

They willingly do this. And, I might add, once a student is on this trajectory, it's very hard to jump ship.

What are you going to do if by the age of 24 you realize this is not the career for you? You can't walk the gang plank the way we do in the States between one career and another. No one wants a dishonorable discharge. Students are trained and tracked in one field at a very early age.

And think about this: spending 60 hours a week in a kitchen. Work starts at 8A.M. and goes to 11 P.M. with a short hour and half break in the middle of the day. There's no time to go for a workout, take care of personal stuff, see family, or be with friends. There's no time do anything else but cook and clean.

Is it really any wonder that there are few women in the French cooking brigade? Unless you are bringing your children into the restaurant to cook or can afford day care, kids aren't an option. And, who can afford daycare on a cooks salary?

So the question remains: Why do French kids sign up for this kind of life? I'm still trying to figure this one out. But here's some of the perks to working for a famous French frigate: there is an opportunity to travel to foreign countries as the restaurant expands its empire and there is great honor given to chefs in France.

But I'll tell you life on board the ship can be truly suffocating. There are personality clashes, jealousy issues, cultural differences, language barriers, behavioral problems, and more. And all this gets blown up under a microscope because there is just no escaping. Thank God for le weekend or we'd all be court marshaled. Adults included.

Funny enough as much as we drive each other crazy, when the weekend does roll around, we all go out together and drink ourselves silly.

Well what else would you expect from a bunch of sailors?

It goes without saying that the captains are militant instilling fear while demanding perfection. But doing so only to keep the ship afloat, on course, the kids in check, and ready for battle twice daily. And when the lunch battle is over, after the deck is scrubbed down and casualties accounted for, everyone breathes a deep sigh of relief and relaxes for an hour or so before the dinner attack begins.

It is during these battle times that the ship comes together as one. Everyone has a job to do and everyone knows what it is. There is not a lot of thinking going on, just a lot of executing. In other words, we don't always know what battle we're fighting, we just know that its war and we have to rely on each other to win.

I have been asked before why it is that the Grand Chefs of France don't cook anymore. Why do they just stand around? And I think it's for the same reason that Captains don't reef sails.

First of all, they've already done that for twenty years or more. The muscle memory of cooking is ingrained into every inch of their bodies. Second, they keep a constant look out over every dish that goes out. Third, they need to drive the team.

And I truly love this part of the battle. All the call and response that goes on makes me feel like we're all pulling oars at the same time. Like we're really getting somewhere fast. Without this, it would be a miracle if even one table got their food at the same time.

The chefs call out the complete orders and the whole staff responds, "Oui Monsieur!" loud and strong to acknowledge the command.

If some one doesn't respond, then they get in trouble. Sometimes they have to scrub the deck after the service, which sucks. Especially when you're already exhausted.

Perhaps you're thinking that this is not a crime worthy of punishment, but really it is. The whole restaurant relies on verbal commands – no computer, no written down anything.

It is very, very easy to be concentrating so hard on what you're cooking that you don't hear the next order. Responding to the order is supposed to ensure that you've registered it.

For example, if the fish station is ready to serve up a juicy piece of turbot, and the meat station hasn't even begun cooking the roasted veal chop then not only is the client going to be waiting a long time, but the fish will have to be thrown out and another fillet cooked. This costs the restaurant money.

Waste in a restaurant is often what makes it or breaks it. We don't waste anything.

But I'll tell you, once you've been punished once, you're less likely to make that same mistake twice. It's a tough way to learn, but at least we don't tie sailors to the mast and give lashings. (Although, sometimes I think this might work better.)

And no, I've never seen anyone picked up by the scruff of their neck and thrown against the wall or anything like that.

Well, once, but it was more of a peer to peer "discussion". There were no officers involved. And I suppose the young man had it coming. It didn't hurt him – just knocked the wind out of sails a little and shaped him up real fast. Growing up in the kitchen, you fall into line, or you fall off the ship.

The teasing can be relentless. One evening an apprentice started crying at the end of a dinner service. These apprentices are young, mostly 16 years old, and still in trade school. Yet, they work 12 -14 hours a day, just like the rest of us and alternate between weeks on and off for school.

I asked him if he was okay, in fear that maybe he was injured. But he just said he was exhausted and couldn't stop the tears. And believe me, we've all been there before. The next day, all the other young guys asked him "What's the matter Arnaud, you tired?" "Did you sleep well?".

This went on for a full month. He sucked it up, laughed at it, and never said he was tired again. Lesson learned.

I get teased about my chef's clothes as well as my hair styles and make-up. We wear our own jackets and cooks pants and mine are designer. Excuse me, but I am a woman and I like to wear chef's clothes that fit my figure.

I am not square head to toe and my chef's gear is designed by a woman in San Francisco who knows how to cut cloth for female cooks. I hear a lot of "What are you wearing today? Gucci?" to which there is really no reply but a smile or a quick fashion turn.

It's all in fun, but lets just say that no one and nothing goes unnoticed. When I cut my bangs, I heard about for a week (it did look terrible). When I braided my hair, a slew of jokes I don't even want to understand got cycled about. The last time I changed my perfume one of the servers called me on it. There's just no escaping! Aaaaaaaaaaarrrgggghhh!

But, I think for all of our squabbles, there is a sense of family that can't be beat. It's why I've never even considered being a personal chef or anything like that. I love the team aspect of cooking. I like mentoring and being mentored. And I love the work.

The funny part about it, is the whole time you're on the ship you're thinking of how much you want to get off of it. And then when you get off, you can't stop thinking how much you want to get back on.

That's life on board a French frigate.

Shrimp Salad in Puff Boats with Roasted Red & Yellow Tomato Coulis

I only went to the market to buy milk. But I came home with 2 pounds each of red and yellow tomatoes, some pea shoots, buckwheat sprouts, and shrimp.

I forgot the milk.

I hate it when I do that. I'm so A.D.D. in supermarkets. The colors really sidetrack me. This is why people make lists. Stick to the list! I guess I was a little curious to see if tomatoes were starting to taste juicy again. I realize I didn't need to buy 4 pounds to answer that question.

The tomatoes were juicy (Hallelujah!). So I roasted them up with a whole bulb of garlic and puréed them separately to taste their differences. The yellow tomatoes were a bit milder in acid but just as flavorful as the red.

Originally I thought the roasted tomatoes would make great soup (they did, I'll post that next) but, I also thought they would make a nice rich coulis, a sauce made from puréed and strained vegetables or fruits.

Which led to: tarragon shrimp salad in choux puff boats with my little shoots and sprouts, and a few swirls of red & yellow tomato coulis. Whoo-wee, that all sounds complicated doesn't it? It's not, just a tad time consuming.

Like I've got anything better to do on my days off – tax extension be damned!

I've never used buckwheat sprouts before and they sure have an interesting flavor: a cross between sour grass and wheat grass. Sweet and sour. Pea shoots, on the other hand, taste exactly like pea shoots.

I hope you enjoy this recipe. If serving a crowd or in need of a dish to take to a party, the choux puff boat can be baked in a Springform 9" cheesecake pan and filled with any salad right before serving. Egg salad, chicken salad – whatever. Then people can scoop it from the boat or cut wedges.

As for the 4 pounds of roasted tomatoes all I can say is they have far more uses than just soup and coulis. They also make great pasta sauce, meat sauce, salsa base, or side dish when served whole. I've left the quantities in tact so you have room to experiment too!

Technorati Tags: choux, choux pastry, puppy, recipe, roasted tomatoes, salad, shrimp, tomato coulis

Strawberry Basil Gazpacho with Roasted Shrimp & Parmesan Polenta

Strawberry basil gazpacho is super springtime refreshing. Its salty-sour sweetness really gets the salivary glands going.

Although gazpacho is traditionally made with tomatoes, vinegar, salt, and olive oil, the tomatoes can be replaced with other fruits. Try strawberries & basil in the Spring when the berries start flooding the markets and melon & mint in the Summertime.

The hors d'oeuvre that goes alongside the gazpacho is quite a complicated little affair. Lots of little parts to it. Too bad, its eaten in only a few bites!

Cheesy parmesan polenta is cut out into shapes and then toasted and topped with a purée of basil and butterflied wild white shrimp. The plate is garnished with a relish of strawberries, celery, fennel, and bacon. (gotta have the smokiness of the bacon for this). And lastly, a drizzle of basil-chive oil.

I tested this recipe out on a few trusted people (my parents) who aren't afraid to tell me when I've hit the mark or missed completely. I know they doubted the strawberry basil combo in the beginning but, were believers by the end. In fact I got a "delightful!" out of my step-dad who spent a thousand years in the food industry.

This is a first course or amuse bouche, not a main meal, so keep the portions small.

Technorati Tags: gazpacho, polenta, recipe, shrimp, soup, strawberries

Grapefruit Glazed Scallops with Roasted Beets and Thyme

Gotta love a fruit that doubles as a bowling ball. And one that sounds equally funny in French (pamplemousse) and English (grapefruit). There's certainly nothing grape-like about this puckery citrus and I don't find the texture mousse like at all.

But, every name has a history and the grapefruit is no exception. According to Wikipedia it was originally documented first in Barbados. It had developed as a hybrid from the even larger citrus bowling ball, pomelo.

Perhaps the French named it pamplemousse because it was a mouse sized pomelo? No. That can't be right.

In the U.S. the fruit was called shaddock or shattuck until the 1800's. Wikipedia gives no reason as to why or how the name was changed to grapefruit, but one can speculate that it's current alias alludes to the grape-like clusters it grows in.

Regardless, it's a terrificly refreshing fruit.

The idea of this recipe came as I was pondering over what to do with fresh scallops. The egg sack, known as the corail in French, is a beautiful shell pink color. Just about the same color of grapefruit – violà! Inspiration! – grapefruit glazed scallops!

Using grapefruit can be tricky as I found out, because it has a way of over powering everything. Like a bowling ball, it knocks down all the other pins. Some tips: use very small pieces of grapefruit in the garnish so as not to upstage the beets or scallops, and leave out the zest or just add a tiny little piece for decoration.

The glaze is infused with thyme and you can slather it on generously because the grapefruit juice is greatly reduced and has a fabulous sweet tangy flavor without the bite. Also the thyme really brings the dish together.

I seared the scallops with walnut oil and added some to the vinaigrette for the beet garnish. It adds depth and nuttiness – two of my favorite human characteristics, so don't leave them out either.

Technorati Tags: grapefruit, grapefruit vinaigrette, pamplemousse, scallops

Assiette de Legumes avec Oeuf Poche

Vegetables. Give me vegetables. If I eat another plate of tripe, boudin noir, or toulouse sausage I'm going to pop.

Here's a bistro classic, Assiette de Légumes avec Oeuf Poché, that satisfies most vegetarians and those of us who strive to eat less offal and more vegetables.

And, it's dramatic. When you slash the egg yolk it oozes all over the vegetables. I love that. Serve up with some toasted hearty country bread for perfection.

David Lebovitz recently wrote a great post on tips for eating vegetarian in Paris. It's not impossible to eat vegetarian here, even the carnivores like a night off once and awhile. When in need, ask for an "assiette de légumes" or a "plate of vegetables".

Believe it or not, the request is not so unusual. When 3 hour business lunches were the norm, customers would often order an "assiette de légumes" because they had suffered through too many heavy meals during the week.

Of course, you have to ask nicely and make sure you sound apologetic for inconveniencing the kitchen – but normally they will make it. I've been pleasantly surprised, more than a few times, with the results.

Technorati Tags: assiette des légumes, poached egg, vegetable plate

Spring!

It's Springtime! And what better time to book a table at the Restaurant Spring in Paris?

marinated mackerel garnished with, zucchini blossom and orange sauce

I'm sure you've heard of this chic bistro because the American Chef, Daniel Rose, has been featured in just about every foodie magazine including Gourmet.

What really makes his restaurant special (besides the fact that he's an American Chef in Paris) is that he cooks right in front of you, just for you.

He goes every morning to the farmer's market and picks out only the freshest ingredients and then plans a three course meal only for the people that have reserved for the evening. So you know that everything is top quality and truly seasonal.

No use showing up at the door unannounced. Because first of all, there probably won't be a table available. And secondly he only prepares food for the customers that have called. So book your table at least a month in advance.

velvety rich pumpkin soup with pan seared foie gras

And what a beautiful and creative meal it is! Chef Rose brings his American know-how to French cuisine with style. Check out his blog for menu updates, recipes, private cooking classes, and even live TV footage from the kitchen.

Lamb prepared three ways with rich jus and spinach to garnish

Unfortunately for me, I don't get the opportunity to eat at his restaurant often because when he's cooking I'm cooking too. That's the breaks for cooks in Paris – we all have the same days off. But, I did get the opportunity to meet him and taste his food this last Fall. I only wish I got around to posting my experience earlier.

How can you not love a restaurant that sends you home with breakfast for the next morning?

Restaurant Spring
28 rue de la Tour d'Auverge 75009
Reservations +33 (0)1 45 96 05 72

Technorati Tags: bistros, paris, Paris restaurants, restaurant Spring

Tres Soigne

The expression "Très Soigné" is a staple in the French kitchen. Or in any professional kitchen for that matter. Even Marcel tossed it around on the second series of Top Chef.

"Très Soigné" translated means "very neat".

To me it normally sets off the alarm that the President is coming in, or the owner of Ferrari is dining privately, or the beautiful Queen of Sweden has arrived, or the Michelin Guide Director is lunching with friends (everyone knows the Director since he eats out regularly around town).

And, it also means: if that plate you're hunched over and trying to finish is not absolutely perfect, you're dead.

Not that I've actually seen anyone murdered in the kitchen, but I've certainly witnessed my fair share of deflated egos.

After I hear the order "Très soigné!" called out and all of us respond "Oui Monsieur!" to acknowledge the command, I peek at the reservations list to see if I might have heard of the person. Mostly I find it's an unknown journalist (to me, that is), but sometimes it's some one world renowned – this definitely gets me excited.

The funny part of this command, "très soignè", is that it really isn't necessary. Everything we make is très soigné. It's not because you are a tourist from Arkansas that your food will be any less beautiful or the servers any less attentive. We don't give bad portions to the Americans and beautiful portions to the French. It's not because you arrived in a Gap suit and left the Channel dress hanging in the closet, that the food will be inedible.

No, every pate is pristine and every plate is watched over by three executive chefs before the servers carry them away on silver plated trays.

Nonetheless, what this command really does is send everyone in the kitchen into a heightened state of awareness because, no one wants to be the person who messed up.

But, there's something that gets my adrenaline moving even more than when I hear "très soignè" bellowed out by the executive chef. It's when I check the reservations list, or walk through the dining room before service begins, and I see single reservations or a table set for one person. I always make a point to memorize that table.

Why? Because single reservations are possibly the Michelin scouts coming in to dine under assumed names.

I know that many people (especially in the Bay Area, and rightly so) have their doubts about the Michelin Guide. But, we live by it here in Paris. And, in a way, it ensures that all people are treated "très soignè" whether the order is called out or not.

The critics mostly come alone, but it's rumored that they dine with other critics too, just to ensure that no one suspects anything. And, they sometimes come in more than once to be absolutely positive that the experience was the same.

In a country where the customer is always wrong, the Michelin Guide sets the bar, and those restaurants that wish to be successful need to climb above it. Far above it.

Of course, to us Americans, where the customer is always right and our competitive culture weeds out the worst, this notion is bizarre. Don't you want my business? Don't you want me to come back here again? Don't you want a nice generous tip and great write-up on my blog?

Tant pis! However if you go to a Michelin stared restaurant you will be sure to have outstanding food and service because once the restaurant has earned its "macarons" the idea of loosing any of them can lead to a significant cut in business (example: Tour d'Argent) or even worse, suicide in the case of the outstanding and widely loved chef, Bernard Loiseau (read "The Perfectionist : Life and Death in Haute Cuisine" (Rudolph Chelminski).

Or if you're just a lowly cook like me, it can mean your job. I'm just assuming that of course, I've never seen any of the cooks fired in the kitchen because I've never seen anyone make an earth shattering mistake. I certainly don't want to be the first!

And we've never lost any stars, why would we? The food is outstanding, the cooks are professionals, and the wait staff have trained in universities in the art of how to serve people properly.

But, you can be sure that I put an extra "très" in the phrase "très soigné" when I hear it called out or see that table for one.

And I might add, I always show a little extra love when I know an American is dining in the restaurant – hey, I know how much the exchange rate hurts right now – and I want at least one of the restaurants you eat at in Paris to be truly worth it.

Poule au Pot Façon 'Asiatique'

Thank Heavens for the French language. It sure makes "Chicken In A Pot" sound like something worthy of serving to a king.

My Poule au Pot is a homemade whole chicken soup with asian herbs and spices thrown in to elevate it from sick-people soup to let's-invite-people-over soup. Or better yet: let's eat-it-all-ourselves soup.

Whatever, it's Chicken In a Pot and it's good.

The great thing about this Chicken in a Pot is that it's: easy, nourishing, colorful, and it makes tasty leftovers. Nothing is canned or pre-fab. All you need is a chicken, some water, some vegetables, some herbs – et voilà! – you have Chicken in a Pot. Or rather, Poule au Pot.

Now, I'm lucky because I live right next to a Vietnamese grocery store that sells cool things like: won ton wrappers, kaffir limes, lemon grass, thai basil, thai chives, galanga, steamed pork buns, and a bunch of other long leaf herbs I haven't gotten around to exploring yet. I just buy stuff and toss stuff it into my poule au pot and see what happens.

Galanga (pictured left), you might be familiar with now that Whole Foods carries it regularly, is a wonderful form of ginger. To me and my overactive tastebuds, it tastes of eucalyptus, ginger, and cedar. I like to slice it and toss it in the broth to simmer. I wouldn't try eating it whole. Very woody.

Kaffir lime (picutred right) looks like a small bumpy hand grenade and its zest is even more explosive – sort of lime tasting with a strong furniture polish overtone. Lemon Pledge to be exact. The fruit is also powerful, but I normally stick to the zest. Just a sprinkle over top the before serving.

Thai chives (pictured center) are fatter and stronger in flavor than their normal counter part and I use them in place of green onion. Be careful when storing these in the refrigerator because everything will take on their flavor; butter and eggs included. This is not necessarily a bad thing unless you were hoping for buttered toast and jam in the morning sans onions.

I simmer my Chicken in a Pot and then when I'm minutes away from serving toss in bok choy, baby corns, mushrooms, or whatever else makes my soup pretty and nutritious.

There's another more personal reason why I'm really in love with this recipe and it's not just because I don't have an oven at home...

I eat two staff meals at the restaurant I cook at and sometimes I go for weeks without eating lean protein or green vegetables. Sounds crazy right? I mean, I cook at a world renowned restaurant. I bet you thought I munch on caviar and truffles all day.

Well, not exactly.

The other day, I turned to a cook I work with and I asked him when was the last time he ate something green. He couldn't remember. Neither could I. We vowed to eat nothing but fruits and vegetables over the weekend.

Staff meals consist of the 4 "other" French food groups: starch, protein, fat, and salt.

I'll give you some examples: mashed potatoes (with a pound of butter) and Toulouse sausage. Or buttered pasta with tripe stew. Or cerveaux (brains) with creamy potatoes au gratin. Or canned cabbage (is this a vegetable?) with poitrine de porc.

Here's what my California body prefers: lean protein, herbs with anti-oxidants, steamed greens, fresh vegetables, NO FAT.

So while your enjoying the most amazing 3-star meal on earth in the dining room, I'm eating farm hand food in the kitchen. Ah well, that's the breaks. I'll tell you, the young French cooks eat it up like it was going out of style.

Cailfornia dreamin', my French/Asian Poule au Pot really hits the spot. TRY IT!

Technorati Tags: chicken, galanga, kaffir lime, lemon grass, pot au poule, poule au pot, soup