The Little Paris Kitchen (14 page)

The following day, turn the dough onto a floured surface and knead for 5 minutes or until it forms a smooth ball again, then cover with a damp tea towel and leave to rise in a warm place for 30 minutes.

Roll out the dough to a large rectangle and then cut the rectangle diagonally into two triangles. Make a large cut down the middle of each triangle without cutting all the way through the dough, starting a little way in from the short edge and stopping before the opposite corner. Make three small slashes on each side of the cut, then use your fingers to gently open out the slashes to look like the veins of a leaf. Place each triangle on a piece of parchment paper and push the cubes of cheese randomly into the dough. Cover with a damp tea towel and leave to rise in a warm place for an hour or until doubled in size.

Preheat the oven to 475°F and put a baking sheet in the oven to get hot. Brush the bread with olive oil and sprinkle with a couple of pinches of salt. Once the oven is hot, place the bread on the hot baking sheet and bake for 5 minutes, then reduce the temperature to 400°F and bake for another 12–15 minutes or until the bread is golden brown. Best eaten warm.

Preparation time: 30 minutes Resting time: overnight, plus 2 hours Baking time: 17
–
20 minutes

Depending who you believe, Vichyssoise is either a French or an American invention. Nobody can really say for sure. One story claims that the French chef Louis Diat created it in 1914 for the Ritz–Carlton Hotel in New York City. He grew up not far from the French spa town of Vichy, which is why he named the soup Vichyssoise.

The traditional recipe calls for leeks and potatoes, but I have swapped the leeks for cauliflower, which makes a milder-tasting soup. Make it the day before serving so that it has enough time to chill, then all you need do before the picnic is pop it into a thermos.

SERVES 4–6

• 1 small head of cauliflower (1¼ lb), chopped into florets – you can use some of the stalks • 8 oz potatoes, cut into large chunks • 1 onion, chopped • 2 tbsp butter • 5 cups hot chicken or vegetable stock • 2½ cups milk • 7 tbsp crème fraîche, plus a little extra for serving • salt and white pepper • a handful of chopped chives

Gently fry the vegetables in the butter for 5 minutes or until the onion is soft but not golden. Add the hot stock and simmer for 20 minutes or until the potatoes and cauliflower are soft. Leave to cool slightly before stirring in the milk and crème fraîche, then whizz in a blender until smooth and season with salt and pepper.

Refrigerate the soup until cold for at least 4 hours, preferably overnight. Taste for seasoning before serving extra cold, garnished with a dollop of crème fraîche and some chopped chives.

Preparation time: 30 minutes
Cooking time: 25 minutes
Chilling time: 4 hours
–
overnight

Literally translated,
cervelles de canut
means “silk worker's brains.” Fear not—no cannibalism, nor even carnivorism, is committed here. The recipe originated in Lyon, which was made the capital of French silk production by Louis XI in 1466. It is thought that by the nineteenth century the silk workers were treated with such disdain by high society in the city that they named this simple dish after them. This is delicious with fresh bread and raw vegetables like carrot sticks, peppers, and radishes.

SERVES 4–6

• 8 oz
fromage frais
(to make your own, see
page 96
) or cottage cheese • 3½ tbsp crème fraîche • 1 tbsp red wine vinegar • 1 small shallot, finely chopped • ½ clove of garlic, crushed to a paste • ½ tsp sugar • 4 tbsp finely chopped chives • salt and pepper

Drain any excess liquid from the cheese. Mix all the ingredients together in a bowl, saving some of the chives for the garnish, and taste for seasoning. Cover the bowl and refrigerate the cheese for 2 hours.
*

Sprinkle the cheese with chives and serve chilled.

*
Can be kept in an airtight container in the fridge for several days.

Preparation time: 10 minutes Chilling time: 2 hours

“
La bonne cuisine est la base du véritable bonheur
” (Good food is the foundation of true happiness) is what the famous French chef Auguste Escoffier said, and I couldn't agree more. And what more pleasurable way to kick off an evening than with a glass of something red, white, or bubbly and a delicious nibble or two?
L'heure de l'apéro
could be considered the French version of the cocktail hour, except that there are no chips and dips on the menu, but instead you might find a selection of charcuterie (cured meats) served with some crunchy cornichons (little gherkins).

Like many traditions in France,
l'heure de l'apéro
is considered a perfect opportunity to indulge oneself, to take a moment after a hard day at work to unwind. The practice came from the nineteeth-century French custom of a
coup d'avant
(shot before). This was usually a shot of vermouth, and only served to men. Vermouth (an essential ingredient for a dry martini) was created in 1813 by herbalist Joseph Noilly, who claimed vermouth had health benefits (most aperitifs of the time made this claim). The manufacturing process has hardly changed. Grapes from Marseillan are matured in oak casks and subsequently blended with a secret mix of spices and herbs.

Another old-school favorite is pastis, an anise-flavored liqueur that is mixed with water.

Although Paris in the last couple of years has seen the rise of cocktails, the French still prefer to keep it simple. The closest the French get to a cocktail would be a Kir (a splash of crème de cassis with white wine) or Kir royal (crème de cassis with Champagne).

No matter what drinks and nibbles you decide to serve, I think the most important part is taking the time to slow down and relax. And that is most certainly a health benefit in today's crazy, hectic world.

It's funny how some things you couldn't stand eating as a kid you start to love when you're a grown-up. Liver used to be like that for me. My mother would try to find creative ways of disguising it, but I could smell liver a mile off. This all changed when I took an intensive two-week cookery course and discovered that livers can be delicious, especially when made into a pâté. The trick is not to overcook them.

SERVES 4

• 7 tbsp salted butter • 1 shallot, thinly sliced • 2 cloves of garlic, pounded flat • 2 bay leaves • 2 sprigs of thyme • 7 oz rabbit livers,
*
trimmed and cleaned • 1 tbsp Cognac • 1 small anchovy fillet • ½ tsp pepper • salt (if necessary)

For the clarified butter:
¾ cup unsalted butter

Melt 2 tablespoons of the salted butter in a large pan and add the shallot, garlic, bay leaves, and thyme. Cook until the shallot is softened but not brown. Add the livers and Cognac and cook for about 2 minutes on each side or until the livers are browned on the outside but still pink in the middle. Leave to cool for 5 minutes. Remove the bay leaves and thyme and then whizz the livers in a blender with the anchovy and the rest of the salted butter. Add the pepper and check for seasoning. Divide the pâté between four ramekins (about 2½ inches in diameter and 1½ inches deep)
**
and smooth the tops.

TO MAKE THE CLARIFIED BUTTER:
Melt the unsalted butter in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Be careful, as it may splatter. Take off the heat and leave to stand for a few minutes, then remove the crusty white layer from the top. Underneath the crust will be the clear (clarified) butter. Pour this clear butter over the pâté in the ramekins, and discard the milky liquid at the bottom. Wrap the ramekins in plastic wrap and refrigerate for a minimum of 4 hours (or overnight) before serving. The pâté will keep refrigerated for up to a week or frozen for up to 2 months.