The Little Paris Kitchen (2 page)

Somehow the rest of the world has forgotten how
délicieux
French food can be. The food headlines have been dominated by the molecular movement in Spain, Heston Blumenthal's edible English eccentricities, or, more recently, Scandinavia's flourishing foraging scene showcased at Noma. French cuisine has been forgone, stereotyped with the stuffy image of an old-fashioned chef laboring over a terribly complicated dish, finished with a ton of butter.

“Mais non!”
I say. French flavors and techniques needn't be out of reach of the everyday home cook. Living in Paris, I eat and cook everything from simple weekday suppers to big gourmet dinners. And just because they use fancy words like
jus
or
blanchir
doesn't mean you have to have a Michelin-starred kitchen to cook great French food. I certainly don't and I've managed to cook up everything from feasts for six to girlie tea parties for eight to romantic three-course dinners for two.

My book includes all the well-known French dishes such as
boeuf bourguignon
and
coq au vin
, but it's not simply another collection of classics. It's the story of how I discovered these recipes, whether it was picnicking along the Seine on a sticky summer's night, dining with friends, or experimenting at home. I have added my own creative twist on some occasions, making this book a fresh and simple approach to French classics, perfect to share with friends and family.

Bienvenue dans ma petite cuisine à Paris!

There is much to be said about the daily eating habits of the French. Simplicity and
savoir-faire
and an understanding of ingredients are key. Generally, a steaming cup of
café au lait
with a sweet and comforting croissant are grabbed en route to work for breakfast. Dinners for family and friends are important events, so dishes for these occasions have a chapter of their own (see
page 152
), which leaves us with lunch. I wanted to call this chapter Everyday Cooking as it features simple things that are mostly eaten for lunch or supper.

L'heure de déjeuner
—the French lunch hour—according to the stereotype consists of several courses, a couple of bottles of wine, and takes half an afternoon. Unfortunately the days of leisurely lunches during the week are a thing of the past as even the French aren't immune to the working culture.
Le sandwich
is, therefore, fast becoming the norm for a weekday lunch, although the French do know how to make an excellent
jambon-beurre
, also called a
parisienne
, a crusty baguette slathered in rich creamy butter with a slice of juicy ham. Not much to it, but it does beat a soggy sandwich any day.

When life does allow a longer lunch break, a visit to the local bistro or neighborhood café is the norm. The local eateries know what their customers want to eat: food to comfort the nerves after a stressful morning at the office.
Moules marinières, steak tartare, gratin dauphinois, saucisse et purée de pomme de terre avec une sauce diable
(sausages and mashed potatoes with devil's sauce),
oeufs en cocotte
(baked eggs). No fancy fussed-about food here.

While I was writing this book, I decided to test some of the recipes out on the public by opening up my own “underground” restaurant for just two diners, as my apartment is so small. People from all over the world (including the French) booked and came for lunch. It soon became clear that no matter what nationality they were, the thing they loved most was the fact that it was simple home-cooked food, not Michelin-starred gastronomy. Food that any Pierre, Paul, or Jacques (Tom, Dick, or Harry!) can cook at home.

So roll up your sleeves and get stuck into a little kitchen work or, as they say in French,
mettre la main à la pâte
(put your hand in the dough) and you'll be rewarded with an everyday meal worth sitting down to.

When figs appear at my local market (the best figs are available from July to September in France), I just have to buy them. Sweet, sticky, and juicy, they often don't even make it back to my kitchen—I usually gobble them all up on my way home—but if there are a few remaining, they make a delicious addition to a salad.

The sweetness of figs goes particularly well with cheese and also chicken livers. I was never a big liver fan as a kid, but they have grown on me since living in France, especially as they take literally no time to cook. Fast food
à la française
!

SERVES 4 AS A STARTER OR 2 AS A MAIN COURSE

• 1 tbsp butter • 1 red onion, thinly sliced • 1 sprig of thyme • 7 oz chicken livers, cleaned (if the livers are quite large, cut them in half) • salt and pepper • 2 tbsp red wine vinegar • 4 handfuls of mixed salad leaves • 4 figs, quartered • extra virgin olive oil, for drizzling

Melt the butter in a large nonstick frying pan and add the onion and thyme. Fry on a medium heat for 6–8 minutes or until the onion becomes soft and slightly caramelized.

Season the livers with salt and pepper. Turn the heat up to high before adding the livers to the pan, then fry for 1–2 minutes on each side or until golden brown on the outside but still pink in the middle. Add the wine vinegar at the end and let it evaporate for 30 seconds.

While the livers are cooking, scatter the salad leaves and figs on a plate.

Top the salad with the onion and livers (discarding the thyme), followed by a drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkle of salt.

Preparation time: 10 minutes Cooking time: 15 minutes

Lentilles du Puy
are grown in the sunny, volcanic Auvergne. The hot climate and mineral-rich soil give them a unique taste and texture, and they are known in France as poor man's caviar. They contain less starch than ordinary green lentils, so they hold their shape better: no mushy
lentilles du Puy
. Traditionally they are boiled in water, then fried with some chopped onion and lardons. I tend to improvise with ingredients I have in the fridge: they make a fine accompaniment to almost anything.

SERVES 4 AS A STARTER OR 2 AS A MAIN COURSE

For the dill vinaigrette:
½ bunch of dill • 2 tbsp sunflower oil • 2 tbsp white wine vinegar • salt • a pinch of sugar

• 1 cup Puy lentils • 1 bay leaf • 1 sprig of thyme • salt and pepper • 1 cooked beet, peeled • a handful of baby salad leaves (optional) • 7 oz fresh soft goat's cheese
*
• extra virgin olive oil

TO MAKE THE VINAIGRETTE:
Whizz the dill (stalks included) in a blender with the oil, vinegar, ½ tsp salt, and the sugar. Taste and add more salt if desired.

Wash the lentils in cold running water, then put them into a large pot with the bay leaf, thyme, and a generous pinch of salt. Cover the lentils with at least double their volume of boiling water and cook for 15 minutes or until tender.

Use a mandoline or a sharp knife to thinly slice the beet.

Drain the lentils and discard the bay leaf and thyme.

Divide the lentils equally between individual plates (or you could use a large serving dish) and scatter over the salad leaves (if using). Place the beet slices on top and crumble over the goat's cheese. Drizzle with the vinaigrette and a little olive oil, and finish with a sprinkling of salt and pepper.

*
If you prefer a stronger-tasting cheese, try feta or a hard goat's cheese.

Preparation time: 20 minutes Cooking time: 15
–
20 minutes