The Cook's Atelier

Hazelnut biscotti

The days are getting longer and it is beginning to feel like spring is on its way.  I'm dreaming of morels, fava beans and sugar snap peas, apricot tarts, baby artichokes braised in a little white wine, and fresh cherries eaten straight off the tree.

Until then, here's a little something to enjoy with an afternoon cup of tea while you are dreaming of spring.

 

Hazelnut biscotti

adapted from Tartine, by Elisabeth M. Prueitt

Yield:  4 1/2 dozen cookies, 2 1/2 inches long

 

1/2 cup hazelnuts

1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened

3/4 cup sugar

2 large eggs

2 teaspoons Grand Marnier

2 teaspoons orange zest, grated

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/4 teaspoon sea salt

 

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.  Spread the hazelnuts on a baking sheet.  Place in the oven and toast lightly just until fragrant, about 3 minutes.  Remove from the oven, place in the center of a kitchen towel, and rub off the skins while the nuts are still warm.  Coarsely chop the nuts and set aside.  Reduce the oven temperature to 325 degrees F.  Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a nonstick liner.

This recipe is easily mixed using a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment on medium speed or by hand with a wooden spoon.  In a mixing bowl, cream the butter until light and creamy, about 2 minutes.  Slowly add the sugar and beat until light in color and fluffy, about 2 minutes.  Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula.  Add the eggs and beat until the mixture is smooth.  Beat in the Grand Marnier and orange zest.  Add the flour, baking powder, and salt and mix until just combined.  Stir in the chopped nuts.

On a lightly floured work surface, divide the dough into 2 equal portions.  Shape each portion into a log about the length of your prepared baking sheet and about 2 inches in diameter.  Set the logs on the baking sheet, spacing them about 2 inches apart.

Bake the logs until they are set to the touch and lightly browned on top, about 25 minutes.  Let the rolls cool on a wire rack for 5 minutes, then transfer to a cutting board and cut on the diagonal into slices about 2 1/2 inches wide and 1/2 inch thick.  Return the slices cut side down to the baking sheet.  Bake the cookies until the edges are lightly toasted, 3 to 4 minutes, then turn the cookies over and bake for another 3 minutes.  Let the cookies cool completely on a wire rack.  They will keep in a tightly covered container at room temperature for several weeks, if they last that long.

The butcher and the cook

One of the things I love about living in France, and the concept behind The Cook's Atelier, is the fostering of the relationships between the artisan producers and the farmer and the cook, or in this case, the butcher and the cook.

My favorite boucherie in Beaune just happens to be down the street from me and is owned by Monsieur and Madame Vossot.  It is a charming little shop.  Hanging from the ceiling are saucission sec and rosette. In the case you'll find an assortment of sausages, boudin, sweetbreads, lamb, rabbit, chicken, duck and housemade pâtés and terrines prepared by Madame Vossot.  Behind the counter, on stainless steel hooks, hang beef and veal that is cut to order.  As you wait your turn, you have a bird's eye view of Monsieur Vossot skillfully displaying the art of French boucherie.  On a recent morning, this curious cook with camera in hand, had the pleasure of learning to prepare tête de veau by a master boucher.

The menus at The Cook's Atelier highlight my philosophy of cooking and eating in general.  Simple food with a focus on the best ingredients that you can find.  They are market inspired and served on well-worn platters in a convivial setting.  On the evening before my daughter's wedding, I prepared an impromptu dinner that brought friends and family together from both sides of the pond in celebration of the happy couple.

On the menu was Madame Vossot's country pâté with market greens and garden radishes, spring leg of lamb; studded with garlic and roasted with rosemary and served with baby carrots and turnips from Madame Loichet's garden.  We ended the meal with chocolate chip cookies, Chantilly cream and strawberries drizzled with Grand Marnier that were prepared by Jen.

As a cook and teacher, I am inspired by the resurgence of interest in learning how to cook.  Not "dinner on the table in thirty minutes" kind of cooking, but real cooking that requires time in the kitchen and a commitment to making food from scratch.  To me, there is something to be said about a simple meal, prepared together, in celebration of true love.

roasted spring leg of lamb

from Ad Hoc at Home, by Thomas Keller

serves 8 to 10

One 6 1/2 pound trimmed leg of lamb, bone frenched

5 garlic cloves, halved lengthwise

4 rosemary sprigs

1/2 cup canola oil

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Set a roasting rack in a roasting pan.  If the fell, the thin membrane over the outer layer of fat, is still intact, carefully remove it with a sharp knife.  (Don't be concerned if some of the fat is removed with the fell.) Make ten 1/2 to 1-inch-deep incisions in the thickest parts of the leg, where the garlic will be visible when the lamb is sliced, and insert a piece of garlic in each.  Make another incision in the meat just above the frenched bone and insert 1 sprig of rosemary in the incision.  Lay another 2 sprigs in the groove of the sirloin.

Turn the leg over and rub 1/4 of the oil over the meat.  Season generously with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper.  Turn the meat back over, tuck the flap of sirloin under the roast, and place on the rack.  Rub the top of the roast with the remaining 1/4 cup of oil and season generously with salt and pepper. Pull off the leaves of the remaining rosemary sprig and scatter them over the roast.  Let sit at room temperature for 1 hour or until it has reached room temperature.

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.

Put the lamb in the oven and roast for 1 hour.

Turn the pan around and roast for 30 minutes, or until the very center of the top round registers 135 degrees F.

Remove from the oven and let the meat rest on the rack for 45 minutes.

To carve the roast, hold the exposed bone, stand the lamb up on a cutting board, and slice the meat vertically, against the grain, until you reach the bone.  Turn the roast around and carve the other side in the same manner until you reach the bone.  Finally, slice across the sirloin.

Arrange the meat on a serving platter and sprinkle with sea salt.

Boeuf Bourguignon

Boeuf Bourguignon is a classic French dish that has recently come back in vogue after the release of the movie Julie and Julia featuring Julia's Boeuf Bourguignon, oh, and Meryl Streep.  Truth be known, this is the very first dish I learned to cook, which seems interesting now that I find myself living in Burgundy.  It can seem a little intimidating to some, but rest assured, it is well worth the effort.  It is a favorite dish and one that I cook often for friends and family during the cold winter months.  With the weather on the verge of warming up, I thought I'd take the opportunity to share it with you before we turn to lighter fare in celebration of spring.

I enjoy making everything from scratch and begin the components of this dish several days before I plan to serve it.  First, I prepare the beef stock from the bones that I picked up from Monsieur Vossot at my neighborhood artisan boucherie.  He is always very helpful and seems to enjoy this crazy American cook who frequents his tiny butcher shop.  The case in his shop is filled with an assortment of meats, duck and rabbit terrines, and country pâté made by Madame Vossot.  Rosette and saucisson hang from ancient beams on the ceiling to dry and large cuts of meat are displayed on stainless steel butcher hooks just behind the case.  No shrink-wrapped meats here.  As you peek around the corner toward the back of the shop, there are young men learning the trade of an artisan butcher, a skill still passed down in France.  Here, you can still have a conversation with your butcher and he is happy to tell you where the meat is from and he hand cuts each piece to your specifications depending on the dish you are making.  The line is long at Monsieur Vossot's boucherie, a good sign in France.  When in doubt which shop to visit, always lean toward the one with the longest line.  After all, good food takes time.

Boeuf Bourguignon was originally prepared as a rustic stew with all of the ingredients cooked in one pot left simmering on the stove until the meat was tender.  I adapted my usual favorite, Julia's recipe,  and followed the advice of Thomas Keller by first preparing a red wine reduction. He also suggests that you "remove the impurities at every opportunity", which means skimming the stock thoroughly and removing the fat and vegetable particles from the sauce.  In addition, his technique requires two sets of vegetables, one for the braising and the second added to the stew just before serving for a much more refined presentation.   For the second batch of vegetables, he suggests cooking them separately before adding them to the finished dish. I'll admit, there are quite a few steps involved  in his technique, but the the final dish is absolutely worth the extra effort. Serve with crusty bread and a glass or two of your favorite Burgundian red wine.

As you begin, be sure to read the recipe thoroughly before you start.   Pour yourself a big glass of wine and turn on some French music to inspire you as you'll be spending a considerable amount of time in the kitchen.

boeuf bourguignon

by Thomas Keller, Bouchon

for the beef stock

2 tablespoons canola oil, preferably organic

5 pounds meaty beef neck or leg bones, cut into 2- to 3-inch sections

2 small Spanish onions, peeled

1 large carrot, peeled and cut into 4 pieces

1 large leek, roots trimmed, split lengthwise, rinsed well and cut into a 2-inch pieces

1 large thyme sprig

3 bay leaves

1/4 teaspoons black peppercorns

1 head garlic, cut horizontally in half (reserve the other half for another use)

Preheat the oven to 475 degrees F.  Place a large roasting pan in the oven to preheat for about 10 minutes.

Add 1 tablespoon of the oil to the hot roasting pan and distribute the beef bones in a single layer.  Roast the bones for about 45 minutes, or until richly browned, turning each piece only after it is well browned on the bottom side.

Meanwhile, cut 1 onion crosswise in half.  Heat a small skillet over medium-high heat for 2 to 3 minutes.   Place the onion half cut side down to one side of the skillet so that it is not over direct heat and let it brown and char black, about 30 minutes.  This step adds color to the stock.  Set aside.

Remove the roasting pan of bones from the oven and reduce the oven temperature to 400 degrees F. Transfer the bones to a large colander set over a baking sheet to drain.

Drain the fat from the roasting pan and discard.  Add about 1 cup of water to the pan, place over medium heat, and use a metal spatula to scrape the bottom of the pan and release the pan juices.  Let them simmer until reduced by half.  Add the resulting fond (stock) to a large deep stockpot.

Transfer the bones to the stockpot and add about 5 quarts of water - just enough to cover the bones.  Any fat present in the juices will rise to the top when the cold water is added; use a skimmer to remove and discard the fat.  Add the charred onion half and the salt.  Place over medium heat and bring to a simmer, skimming as impurities rise to the top of the stockpot.  Reduce the heat and simmer gently, skimming often, for 5 hours.  If the level of liquid falls below the top of the bones, add additional water.

Meanwhile, cut the remaining whole onion into quarters and cut the remaining onion half in half again. Place the onions, carrots, and leeks in a roasting pan that will hold them in a single layer, toss with the remaining 1 tablespoon of canola oil, and place in the oven to roast for 20 minutes.

Remove from the oven and stir, then roast for an additional 20 minutes, or until the vegetables are richly caramelized.  Set aside.

After the stock has simmered for 5 hours, add the caramelized vegetables, herbs, peppercorns, and garlic and simmer for 1 hour longer.  Turn off the heat and allow the stock to rest for 10 minutes.

Prepare an ice bath.  Place a strainer over a large bowl.  Removing the bones or pouring out the liquid through the bones would cloud the stock.  Instead, carefully ladle the stock out of the pot and pass it through the strainer, tilting the pot as necessary to get all the stock. Strain a second time through a chinois or fine-mesh strainer lined with dampened cheesecloth.

Measure the stock:  If you have more than 3 1/2 quarts, pour it into a saucepan and reduce to 3 1/2 quarts. Strain the stock in the refrigerator for up to 3 days, or freeze in several containers for longer storage.

makes 3 1/2 quarts

for the red wine reduction

1 bottle red wine, such as cabernet sauvignon

1 cup diced onions

1 cup sliced peeled carrots

1 cup sliced leeks, white and light green parts only

1 cup sliced shallots

1 cup sliced button mushrooms

3 thyme sprigs

6 Italian parsley sprigs

2 bay leaves

1/2 teaspoon black peppercorns

3 large garlic cloves, skin left on smashed

Combine all the ingredients in a large heavy ovenproof pot with a lid that will hold the meat in a single, or no more than double, layer.  Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat and simmer for 45 to 50 minutes, or until the wine has reduced to a glaze.

for the beef

2 3/4 pounds of lean stewing meat cut into 1 1/2 to 2 inch pieces

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

canola oil, preferably organic

1 cup diced yellow onions

2/3 cup sliced peeled carrots

1 1/2 cups sliced leeks, white and light green part only

2 garlic cloves, skin left on, smashed

3 thyme sprigs

3 Italian parsley sprigs

2 bay leaves

About 4 cups beef stock

Trim away the excess fat and any silver skin from the meat.  Cut into pieces approximately 1 1/2 to 2 inches by 1 inch thick.  Dry the meat with paper towels; it will not brown properly if it is damp.

Line a baking sheet with paper towels.  Season all sides of the meat with salt and pepper.  Heat 1/8 inch of canola oil in a large sauté pan over high heat.  When the oil is hot, add only as many pieces of meat as will fit comfortably in a single layer; do not crowd the pan or the meat will steam rather than brown.  Once the meat has browned on the first side, turn it and continue to brown the meat on all sides, about 5 minutes total.  Transfer the meat to the paper towel-lined baking sheet. Brown the remaining meat in batches, adding more oil to the pan as necessary.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Add the onions, carrots, leeks, garlic, thyme, parsley, and bay leaves to the reduction and toss together. Cut a piece of cheesecloth that is about 4 inches larger than the diameter of the pot.  Wet the cheesecloth and wring dry.  Place the cloth over the vegetables and fold over the edges to form a "nest" for the meat.  (The cheesecloth will allow the liquid to flavor and cook the meat but prevent bits of vegetables and herbs from clinging to it.)  Place the meat on the cheesecloth and add enough stock to come just to the top of the meat.

It is important that the liquid doesn't evaporate too quickly.  Place in the oven and reduce the heat to 300 degrees F.  Braise the beef for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, or until the meat is very tender.

Transfer the meat to an oven proof pot.  Remove and discard the cheesecloth. Strain the braising liquid twice through a fine mesh strainer, straining it the second time into a saucepan.  Discard the vegetables. Bring the liquid to a boil, spooning off the fat as it rises to the top.  Strain the liquid over the beef.  Let it cool, then cover and refrigerate for at least 1 day, or up to 3 days.

note:  I'm not an advocate of using paper towels and prefer to use cloth dish towels in my kitchen. However, when necessary to use them, be sure to use an eco-friendly brand.

for the vegetables

potatoes

8 ounces fingerling potatoes, preferably small

1 tablespoon sea salt

1/4 teaspoon black peppercorns

2 thyme sprigs

1 bay leaf

2 garlic cloves, skin left on, smashed

carrots

16 baby carrots

1 tablespoon sea salt

1 teaspoon black peppercorns

4 thyme sprigs

2 bay leaves

2 garlic cloves, skin left on, smashed

bacon and mushrooms

4 ounces slab bacon, cut into 24 lardons

32 button mushrooms, cleaned

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

pearl onions

24 pearl onions

1 bay leaf

12 black peppercorns

1 thyme sprig

sea salt

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

If the potatoes are small, leave them whole.  Place in a large saucepan, along with the salt, peppercorns, thyme, bay leaf and garlic and add cold water to cover the potatoes by 1 inch.  Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce the heat and simmer for 10 to 15 minutes, or until the potatoes are tender.  Drain the potatoes and transfer to a plate.  Discard the seasonings.  Once they are cool, slice whole potatoes lengthwise in half.  Set aside.

Peel the carrots and trim the tops, leaving 1/4 inch attached.  With a paring knife, scrape the tops of the carrots to remove any skin that remains.  Cut the carrots lengthwise in half.  Place in a saucepan, add the salt, peppercorns, thyme, bay leaves, and garlic and cover with a about 1 1/2 inches of water.  Place over hight heat and bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat and simmer the carrots for 4 to 5 minutes, or until tender. Drain the carrots and transfer to a plate to cool.  Discard the seasonings.

Spread the lardons in a single layer in a baking pan and place in the oven.  After about 10 minutes, stir the lardons and return to the oven for another 5 to 10 minutes, or until they are richly browned.  Remove from the oven and drain on paper towels.

Trim away the mushroom stems flush with the caps.  Heat the butter in a large skillet over high heat until it has melted and the foam has subsided.  Add the mushrooms, reduce the heat to medium low, season with salt and pepper to taste, and cook gently, tossing often, until the mushrooms are lightly browned and tender, 2 to 3 minutes.  Set aside.

To prepare the onions.  Cut an X in the root end of each onion and place in a bowl. Meanwhile, bring to a boil enough water to cover the onions.  Pour the boiling water over the onions.  When the onion skins have softened enough to be easily peeled, drain the onions.  Peel them when they are cool enough to handle.  Trim the roots as necessary.  

Place the onions in a saucepan that will hold them in a single or double layer, add cold water to cover them by 1 inch, and season the water with bay leaf, peppercorns, thyme, and a pinch of salt.  Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer gently for 10 to 15 minutes, or until the onions are tender when pierced with a paring knife.

Drain off all but 2 tablespoons of the water from the pan and stir in the vinegar. (The onions can be kept at room temperature for up to 1 hour or covered and refrigerated for up to 1 day).

to finish the dish

Place the container with the beef in the oven for a few minutes just to liquefy the stock.  Remove from the oven and turn the oven up to 400 degrees F.  Carefully remove the pieces of beef to a deep ovenproof sauté pan.  Strain the liquid over the beef.

Place the pan in the oven and warm the beef for about 5 minutes, basting occasionally with the cooking liquid.  Add the potatoes, carrots, mushrooms, and onions and toss gently.  Return to the oven for an additional 5 to 10 minutes, or until the vegetables and meat are hot.

Meanwhile, warm the lardons in a small skillet.

Remove the sauté pan from the oven and gently toss in the parsley.  With a slotted spoon, divide the meat and vegetables among severing plates or bowls.  Spoon some of the sauce over each serving.  Distribute the lardons among the plates and sprinkle with fleur de sel.  Serve with Dijon mustard.

Fennel, mâche and blood orange salad

The weather has been beautiful this winter in Burgundy and although we've had our fair share of snow, this morning the sun is shining, the sky is that beautiful shade of French blue, and it feels like spring might just be right around the corner. Wishful thinking I know, as we have a least a couple more months of chilly weather.  

Winter calls for comfort foods like boeuf Bourguignon and braised rabbit with mustard sauce and velvety, rich soups.  Today, however, I had something else on my mind when I arrived at the market.  I was craving a salad.  When you try to cook and eat locally, using the ingredients from the farmers' market, the winter months can seem to last forever.  I can get the ingredients for my pot-au-feu or blanquette de veau from Madame and Monsieur Vossot's boucherie on the corner, or the last minute ingredients for a soup from my neighborhood epicerie, but when it comes to a salad this time of year, things are somewhat limited.  

My favorite vendor at the Wednesday market is Madame Pechoux.  During the summer months her table is filled with a beautiful assortment of organic vegetables; heirloom tomatoes, tender baby lettuces, and tiny purple and white eggplants.  In the winter months she offers, beets, apples, pears, leeks, parsnips, winter greens like mâche and, if you're lucky, a small box of baby frisée.  Today, I wasn't so lucky.  So with the craving for the salad firmly embedded in my mind, I did what any good cook should do.  I improvised.  The secret is rather than visit a farmers' market with a list of what you'd like to find, turn it around, and create your menu around what looks good at the market.  

In the states, many of us have lost the ability to cook with the seasons because our supermarkets are filled with tomatoes, blueberries, and raspberries year round.  It is important to note, the quickest way to become a better cook is to cook with the seasons.  Resist the urge to simply follow a recipe without giving thought to the season.

This is a really simple salad and can be adapted depending on your tastes or what you find at the market. You could use arugula, frisée or add some shavings of parmesan or pecorino cheese.  If you don't find blood oranges at your market, try tangerines or grapefruit.  Toss in a few olives and some fresh herbs and you'll satisfy that craving for a crisp salad on a winter's day while you wait patiently for the arrival of spring.

fennel, mâche and blood orange salad

serves 4

for the salad

2 fennel bulbs, thinly sliced

2 blood oranges, cut into segments

2 handfuls of mâche

fresh chervil

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

for the vinaigrette

1 shallot, finely minced

1 tablespoon red wine vinegar

3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Quarter the fennel bulbs lengthwise, using a mandoline or sharp knife, cut lengthwise into thin slices. Set aside.  Using a sharp knife, cut the stem and blossom ends from the blood orange.  Place the blood orange cut side down. Following the contour of the fruit, working from top to bottom with your knife, remove the peel and white pith.  Over a bowl, cut along each side of the membrane to separate the segments.

In a large bowl, add the shallot to the vinegar and let set aside for 10 minutes. Whisk in the olive oil and add the salt and pepper to taste.  Add the sliced fennel, mâche and blood orange segments and toss gently to coat in the vinaigrette. Season with sea salt and a few grindings of black pepper and serve immediately on chilled salad plates.  Garnish with fresh chervil.

 

Fall market in Beaune

 

As a cook, it is difficult to pick a favorite season but the fall market in Beaune is certainly a favorite.  Fall is a beautiful time to visit France in general as the majority of the crowds have returned home and things are getting somewhat back to normal.  It gives you the opportunity to really have a chance to experience France as the French do, without all the tourists.

Every Saturday I stroll by my little brocante on the way to the market. Most Saturdays I am "good" and enjoy the thrill of the hunt and do not splurge unless I find something I simply can't live without.  Several months ago I came upon a beautiful soup tureen that I, regrettably, talked myself out of.  I've been disappointed ever since.  To make matters worse, I see it every day perched on a neighbor's windowsill as I take Lily for her morning walk.  As luck would have it, just this last Saturday, another one appeared and dare I say, I think it is even more lovely than the first one.  I have a thing for anything food related and my particular love is white ironstone.  I think it will pair nicely with an upcoming butternut squash soup I've been dreaming about.

With the chill in the air and the lovely heirloom apples in Monsieur Talmot's stall, I was inspired to preheat the oven and bake some classic French pastry. In France, you will find an apple tart in every window of every pâtisserie, but I prefer to spend the afternoon baking to welcome in the new season.  The classic apple tart in France is most often made with a purée of apples topped with sliced apples in a decorative fashion and it is usually coated with an apricot glaze.  For this tart, the purée is flavored with just a hint of vanilla and the top of the tart is brushed with butter and sprinkled with sugar so it comes out lightly caramelized but not too sweet.  It's the perfect dessert to celebrate fall.  Served with sweetened crème fraîche or whipped cream flavored with just a touch of Calvados, it just might be a slice of heaven.

apple tart

serves 6 to 8

1 9-inch partially baked tart shell, pâte sucrée recipe follows

3 Golden Delicious apples, peeled, cored and sliced into even 1/8 inch slices

1 tablespoon unsalted butter, melted

1 tablespoon sugar

for the apple purée

3  Golden Delicious apples, peeled, cored and diced

1 vanilla pod, split lengthwise

2 tablespoons sugar

2 tablespoons butter

Preheat the oven to 375^o.

To make the apple purée, put the diced apples, vanilla pod, sugar and butter in a saucepan with 3 to 4 tablespoons of water.  Cook gently, stirring often until soft, adding more water if necessary, for about 10  to 15 minutes.

Use the tip of a knife to scrape the seeds out of the vanilla bean, then discard the pod.  Transfer the mixture to a food mill or food processor and purée until smooth. Spread the purée evenly in the partially baked tart shell.  Carefully arrange the apple slices in a neat circle around the edge, they should be tightly overlapping but not squished together.  Depending on the size of your tart pan and the apples, you can repeat to create an inner circle or just fill in the center in a decorative pattern. Brush with melted butter and sprinkle over the sugar.

Bake in the preheated oven until just browned and tender, about 25 to 30 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.

 

pâte sucrée

Makes enough for 2 tarts

1/4 cup heavy cream

2 large egg yolks

2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

1/4 cup granulated sugar

A pinch of sea salt

8 ounces unsalted butter, cut into pieces

Whisk the cream and the eggs together in a small bowl and set aside.  In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, salt and butter.  Using your fingers, incorporate the butter until you have a coarse meal.  Gradually add the cream and yolks, and mix until just combined.  Be careful not to overwork the dough.  Bring the dough together with your hands to incorporate completely.  Divide the dough in half, shape into disks, and wrap one of them to freeze and use later.

If the dough is soft, put it into the refrigerator for a few minutes prior to rolling. Place it on a lightly floured work surface, and sprinkle with a little bit of flour. Roll it into a 1/4-inch-thick circle, flouring as needed. Started at one side, roll and wrap the dough around the rolling pin to pick it up.  Unroll the dough over the 9-inch tart pan.  Gently press the dough into the pan, being careful not to stretch it as this will cause it to shrink when baking.  To remove the excess dough, work your way around the edge pinching off the excess dough with your fingers.  Chill for 1 hour before baking.

to blind bake the tart shell

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Prick the bottom with a fork and line the shell with parchment paper.  Fill the lined tart with dried beans or pie weights and bake for 15 minutes until the edges are set and lightly browned.  Take the tart out of the oven and carefully remove the parchment paper and dried beans.

Pumpkin spice bread

The last days of summer flew by in a flash for me and it seems that by the time I finally caught my breath, we were already in the beginning of autumn.  The leaves are changing, there is a crispness to the air and you can smell the smoke from the neighbor's fireplace.  The markets are giving way to the last little bit of summer produce and are beginning to reflect the season with a showing of heirloom apples, sweet pears, Cinderella pumpkins, quince and wild mushrooms.

Fall, with is change in weather, is the the time to change your kitchen game plan. The season calls for a change in menus that feature much more hearty and substantial fare.  I enjoy cooking the classics, roasted chicken with potato purée and sauteed greens, boeuf bourguignon with homemade buttered egg noodles, pork roast with roasted apples and sage and braised rabbit with a creamy mustard sauce.  As the weather cools down, there is nothing quite as comforting as a pot of soup simmering on the stove or the aroma of a freshly baked apple tart.

It's been busy at The Cook's Atelier.  In addition to my cooking classes, I've been traveling quite a bit, visiting little villages and learning some regional dishes in the kitchens of local cooks along the way.  I've also been busy finalizing all of the little, last minute details for my daughter's wedding.  I been traveling from Beaune to Dijon to Grenoble and hit every little village market along the way - sometimes more than once.  I spent a day in the Les Halles de Lyon and enjoyed the best fruits de mer I think I have ever tasted.  I learned to make génépi des Alpes from my new son-in-law and I showed him the secret to making the best pâte sucrée.

Today was my first visit to the market since I've returned to Beaune.  Gone are the heirloom tomatoes, zucchini, peaches and apricots.  In their place, a beautiful assortment of squash, parsnips and hearty greens.  One of the most recognizable vegetables in the autumn market in France is a giant heirloom pumpkin.  It is a large, thick-fleshed pumpkin that looks exactly like the original old-fashioned illustrations of the magical coach in the Cinderella story.  It is a deep orange-red pumpkin that is flattened in shape with deep lobes that are perfect for slicing.  In the French market you simply tell your vendor how many people you will be serving and they will cut just the right portion for you.  This is a great pumpkin to use in baking and it also makes a classic puréed soup.  In the states, you can find these heirloom seeds by mail order at Renee's Garden to plant in next year's garden.

Each year, to celebrate the beginning of the season, one of the first things I bake is pumpkin spice bread.  I found this recipe in Food & Wine back in November of 1998 and I've been baking it ever since.  It's the perfect accompaniment to a cup of tea on a chilly fall afternoon.

There are some little surprises simmering in the kitchen at The Cook's Atelier.  I'm very excited and will be sharing the details very soon.

pumpkin spice bread

Adapted from Edna Lewis

Makes one 9-inch loaf

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, preferably organic

1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon sea salt

1 teaspoon ground ginger

1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

1 1/2 cups light brown sugar

2 large eggs

1 cup fresh or canned unsweetened pumpkin purée

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1/3 cup milk

Preheat the oven to 350^o.  Butter a 9-inch by 5-inch loaf pan and line the bottom with parchment paper.  In a bowl, sift together the flour, cinnamon, baking soda, salt, ginger, nutmeg, cloves and baking powder.

In a large bowl, beat the butter until creamy.  Gradually add the sugar and beat for 4 minutes.  Beat in the eggs, 1 at a time, then beat in the pumpkin purée.  Stir the vanilla into the milk.  Beat in the dry ingredients in 3 additions at low speed, alternating with the milk mixture.

Spread the batter in the prepared pan.  Bake for about 1 hour, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.  Let the loaf cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then turn it out onto a rack to cool completely before slicing.

Preserved lemons

Keeping in the spirit of stocking the larder, I thought I would give you a recipe today for preserved lemons. They are a great addition to your larder and can be used in a variety of traditional Moroccan dishes or simply added to a risotto or pasta dish for a distinct lemon flavor.  Be sure to use coarse sea salt or kosher salt as it is important that the salt you use does not contain any additives.  Preserved lemons make a lovely hostess gift and will look absolutely charming on a shelf in your pantry.

preserved lemons

2 cups coarse sea salt

6 lemons, organic, plus a few for additional juice if needed

Wash and dry a 1-quart glass jar with a tight fitting lid.  Pour a layer of sea salt over the bottom and set aside.

Wash and scrub the lemons.  Over a bowl, cut the lemons in quarters, but don't go all the way through the stem end.  The idea is to keep the lemons whole.  Open the lemon and sprinkle the cut quarters generously with sea salt. Pack the lemons in the jar, in layers, sprinkling a thin layer of sea salt between each layer of lemons. Push the lemons down firmly as you pack them to express some of their juice. Finish with a final layer of salt.  Pour any juices that have collected in the bowl into the jar.  Cover the jar tightly.  Leave it at room temperature for a few days, while monitoring the level of the liquid in the jar.  After a few days, the lemons should be completely submerged in their juice.  If not, add more lemon juice.

The lemons are best after 3 months and will keep up to a year.  Preserved lemons do not require refrigeration, but I always keep mine in the fridge.

To use a preserved lemon, rinse the lemon to remove some of the salt and cut through the attached end. Use a paring knife to cut away all the lemon flesh and the pith from the yellow zest. Discard all but the zest. You may dice or julienne the zest and add it to salads, stews or grain dishes for a uniquely Moroccan flavor.  I especially enjoy it, blended with a little butter, as a condiment for grilled fish.

Stocking the larder

Things have been busy here at The Cook's Atelier.  In addition to my cooking classes, I've been fermenting heirloom tomato seeds for next year's garden, canning, pickling and enjoying the never-ending task of making jam.  The markets are in full swing and are bursting at the seams with the flavors of summer and it is difficult to control the urge to purchase one of everything.  On my list for this week's market were ingredients for duck rillettes; one of the classics of French charcuterie, sweet tiny strawberries for this week's jam, and a crate of organic peaches to make Alice's pickled peaches for my upcoming cooking class on charcuterie.  

As I left the market with my baskets filled to the brim, I spotted little cornichons at Madame Petit's table. Madame Petit is one of my favorite market vendors at the Saturday market in Beaune and the best place for fresh eggs.  Each week she brings a basket filled with eggs from the hens she keeps in her yard.  You have to arrive early though, so you don't miss out, as they are usually gone by 9 am.  In addition to her fresh eggs, she always has a few little baskets filled with things from her garden.  You never know quite what to expect.  Depending on the season, you might find blackberries, haricot verts, walnuts or a fresh rabbit from Monsieur Petit's morning hunt.  She was quick to spot my enthusiasm and scribbled down her recipe for pickled cornichons for me.  Needless to say, I added them to my list of kitchen projects for the week.

In an era when supermarket produce is no longer tied to the local seasons, we sometimes forget that prior to industrialized commercial food processing, it was necessary to stock your larder by preserving the bounty from your garden or local market.  The secret to your preserving success begins with quality, full flavored and seasonal produce.

Although we are enjoying the warm days of summer with light dinners alfresco and chilled rosé, it is time to begin stocking your larder so you can enjoy the flavors of your summer garden through the cold months of winter ahead.

If you would like to grow cornichons in your garden next year, click here.

Serve these lemon-scented, tart little pickles with homemade sausages and cheese or as an accompaniment to a slice of country-style pâté.

cornichons

inspired by Madame Petit

Makes 2 quarts

2 pounds cornichons

1 cup coarse sea salt

several springs of fresh thyme and tarragon

6 garlic cloves, peeled

bay leaf, one per jar

whole peppercorns, a pinch per jar

2 quarts distilled white vinegar, preferably organic

1/2-inch slice of lemon, preferably organic, one per jar

Wash the cornichons in several changes of cold water while rubbing them to remove the dirt from the garden and the prickly part of their skin.  Place them in a large colander and sprinkle them liberally with the course sea salt.  Toss to distribute the salt evenly and let them stand in the colander, in the sink or over a bowl, for two hours to drain.  The salt will help remove the moisture from the cornichons and allow them to soak up the brine.

Dry the cornichons with a clean, dry kitchen towel, leaving some of the salt. Transfer to clean jars. Arrange the cornichons, thyme, tarragon, garlic, bay leaf and whole peppercorns in each jar.  Heat the vinegar and pour it over the cornichons making sure to cover them completely.  Let cool completely, uncovered. Place a lemon on top of each jar and give it a shake or two.  Refrigerate at least 10 days.  You can give them a taste within the first few days, but keep in mind they will be quite tart at first but mellow as they absorb the brine. The cornichons will stay fresh for up to a month.  Keep refrigerated.

Farmstead cheese

I just recently returned from Valloire, a tiny mountain village located in the French Alps.  Specifically, it is located in the Savoie department in the Rhône-Alpes region in southeastern France.  The region is known for its pedigreed beef, wonderful milk, cream and cheese and is blessed with several artisan producers who are passionate about preserving the culinary traditions of the area.  The traditional food of the area is a "stick to your ribs" type of fare; think fondue, crusty breads, potatoes and artisan sausage served with wine from the region or a glass of cold beer.

My days were spent visiting the little hamlets in the area and enjoying picnics near the river on the green slopes just outside the little village.  The sky was bright blue and the ground was covered with an amazing assortment of wild flowers.  All was quiet except for the  distant sound of the bells on the sheep while they grazed just up the hill.  To say it was picturesque is an understatement.  There are plenty of well maintained little potagers dotting the countryside as well as little patches dedicated to the art of keeping bees.  They have a weekly market in Valloire that surrounds the beautiful baroque style church in the center of the village that features artisan sausage makers, regional cheese from the area such as Beaufort (cow), Chevrotin (goat) and Reblochon, made from raw cow's milk and honey made from the wild alpine flowers.

It was during this visit that I had the pleasure of meeting Monsieur Christophe Traviegnet, the cheese maker at La Ferme du Pré Clos.  By definition, farmstead cheese is a type of artisan cheese that is made traditionally from milk from the producer's own herd of cows, sheep or goats.  Artisan cheese is made by hand using the craftsmanship of skilled cheese makers and the taste of the cheese reflects the care of the cheese maker as well as the terrior of where it is produced.  

I arrived at the creamery mid-morning to a little crowd already gathered who were interested in learning more about the art of making cheese. We tasted fresh cow's milk from that morning's milking as we sampled an assortment of cheese made on the farm.  On the day I visited, M. Traviegnet was making a Tomme cheese. Tomme is a type of cheese, and is a generic name given to a class of cheese produced mainly in the French Alps.  They are normally produced from the skim milk left over after the cream has been removed to produce butter and richer cheeses.  I spent the morning with him as he worked and I can honestly say this was one of the best mornings of my trip.  It is exciting to meet people who are so passionate about what they do and who are dedicated to the preservation of culinary traditions.

Things around here have a natural order to them.  People do what they love and they seem to be connected to the land.  It's very local, not just a saying or a movement, it's just the way it is.  After finishing his morning making cheese, M. Traviegnet drained off the remaining whey and returned it to the milk buckets and mentioned that he would be giving it to his pigs.  It's a great example of sustainabilty and coming full-circle on the farm.

Thanks to a new generation of farmstead cheese makers, traditional cheese making is becoming more and more popular in America and many come to France to learn their trade.  Be sure to seek out the artisan cheese makers in your local market and do your part to help preserve this culinary tradition.

Marinated fresh goat cheese

Marinating goat cheese will give it more flavor.  It is the perfect accompaniment for rustic bread or a green salad from your garden.

Small fresh goat cheeses, approximately  2 ounces each

Extra-virgin olive oil, preferably organic

Pink peppercorns

Fresh thyme

Place the cheeses in a jar and add the oil to cover.  Add the peppercorns and thyme to taste.  Cover the jar tightly and refrigerate for up to 2 weeks.  It is important to keep the cheese completely submerged in the olive oil.  You may use the olive oil in the dressing for the salad.

Aïoli

It is said that every cloud has a silver lining.  Given our current economic situation, wouldn't it be great if that silver lining came in the form of people taking time to get reconnected with their food and maybe even spend a little time learning how to cook?

As a cook, I have been a long-time supporter of shopping at my local farmers' market, cooking with the seasons and the philosophy behind the growing sustainable movement.  I believe that life truly is in the details and that the decisions we make really do make a difference.  I am inspired by the number of urban gardeners getting back to the simple tasks of growing their own vegetables or making the decision to keep chickens in their backyard.  I think we just might be onto something good.

Digging in the dirt and growing just a little something for your table will help you get reconnected to your food and improve your cooking.  At the same time, you'll be doing something good for your health and the health of your community.  Your garden doesn't have to be big, a few pots or a window box is all that you really need to get started.  If you're not quite ready to build your own chicken coop, just be sure to purchase your eggs from your local farmers' market.  You might be paying just a little more, but you'll know that you are making a difference in your community by supporting your local farmers.  Good food doesn't have to be fancy or difficult to prepare.  It is all about the quality of the ingredients.  So support your local farmers' markets, cook with the seasons, and try your hand at a little organic gardening.

When thinking of the perfect recipe to submit with the post, I decided on one of my all time favorites:  Aïoli with fresh garden herbs.  The egg is from my local market, raised in a sustainable way, the herbs are from my kitchen garden, and aïoli is the perfect accompaniment to any vegetable from your summer garden. Most importantly, I hope it inspires you to spend a little time learning how to cook and get back to the basics of good and simple food.

Aïoli with fresh garden herbs

2 small cloves of garlic

pinch of sea salt

1 egg yolk

1 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1/2 lemon, for juicing

herbs from the garden, such as chives, basil, parsley, chopped

In marble mortar with a wooden pestle, pound the garlic and the salt to a smooth, liquid paste.  Add the egg yolk and stir briskly with the pestle until they lighten in color.  Begin to add the olive oil in a tiny trickle, to the side of the mortar so that the oil flows gradually into the yolk mixture, while stirring constantly with the pestle.  As the mixture begins to thicken, the flow of oil can be increased to a thick thread.  If the mixture gets too thick, add a drop or two of water.  Add the juice of the lemon and the herbs. Taste for seasoning.

Makes about 1 cup