Archives For february in france

IMG_1345.JPGIt’s hard to believe that today is the last day of February, and thus February of France must come to a close.

Somehow, I’ve become even more obsessed with French food and cooking. And though I got through a considerable amount of the recipes I wanted to try, there are still more.

{There will always be more, I suppose. Julia Child’s cookbook alone would be enough to keep me busy for years}

To wrap up this fabulous month, I thought I’d share this delicious new cocktail recipe with you.

It’s no secret that I’m addicted to any beverage made with champagne, but combining it with gin was a first for me. I’m not sure why I don’t drink gin more in general – it’s so refreshing, and a nice change from vodka once in a while. Everyone loved this drink, and couldn’t get enough of it. Paired with bubbly, lemon, and a touch of simple syrup, the end result is so crisp and delicious – and the gin gives it quite a kick! In fact, the cocktail received its name for this very reason, said to have the kick of a French 75mm artillery piece. Love that.

A Votre Santé!

{To your health! = the French version of “Cheers!”}

French 75

Adapted from Eben Freeman of Tailor Restaurant in NYC, via Epicurious

  • 1 1/4 cups gin
  • 1/2 cup lemon juice
  • 1/3 cup simple syrup
  • 2 cups champagne

Using zester or paring knife, slice peel from lemon in thin strips. Reserve lemon for another use.

In a small pitcher, combine gin, lemon juice, and simple syrup. Pour into Champagne flutes and top with champagne or sparkling wine.

Garnish drinks with lemon peels and serve.

Serves 6-8.

french women don’t get fat.

February 27, 2011 — 2 Comments

We’ve all heard it before. But what is the real secret of the mysterious French woman? You know – the one who takes pleasure in rich custards, luxurious foie gras, countless pastries and croissants, and basically anything her heart desires?

I’ll give you a hint. There is a phrase above that’s part of the answer.

“Who takes pleasure.” That is part of the secret, the elusive mystery behind it all. And it’s really nothing new.

We’ve talked here about portion control. Yes, portion control is also part of the solution. In fact, I really like Mireille Guiliano’s (writer of the book who started it all) “50 Percent Solution,” where she suggests women should ask themselves, “If I were to eat half of what’s being offered to me right now, would I still be satisfied?” Sometimes the answer is no, but more often than not, it’s yes.

If it’s not possible, then you continue to ask yourself the same question when you’ve already eaten half. So you eat half of your meal, then you ask yourself, “Can I eat half of what’s now left and be content?” The theory is that if you continue to break it down this way, you’ll never end up eating your entire plate. While the word “never” may be a misfit in this sentence, I understand the theory, and I bet it works much of the time. The reason is that it’s forcing you to slow down and really think about what you’re eating.

But the other part – the pleasure part. This is the larger part, I believe, of the real reason French women don’t get fat. Because when you start to truly take pleasure in your food, the portion control falls naturally into place.

Instead of mindlessly scarfing down your food, savor it. Focus on each flavor, each texture. Chew slowly. And if you’re going to savor it, that means it has to be good. French women certainly aren’t getting down with McD’s.

Mireille suggests that one should eat with all five senses in order to truly appreciate one’s food and feel satisfied. I love this quote: “Just as they have an uncanny knack for using the same scarf to create a different effect by draping it over the head, neck, shoulders or waist, in the kitchen, they master a few basic preparations, and leave the rest to improvisation, the art of tweaking an old stand-by into seeming different. They do it by slightly altering the preparation or seasoning, by turning what is usually an entrée into an appetizer, or by transforming lunch left-overs into something rather different for several later meals.”

French women have that knack for style, not only in fashion but with food as well. Love that.

I haven’t yet read Mireille’s book, but it’s hard to feel the need to as her website is so full of great information. If any of this interests you, I strongly suggest spending some time with it. She has so many great tips on a variety of subjects, and I love the fun facts about French culture and life she throws in.

Here’s a favorite manifesto: French women typically think about good things to eat. American women typically worry about bad things to eat.

Food for thought!

Has anyone read the book? I’d love to know what you think.

Growing up, I was very close to my grandmother, and one of my favorite memories involve the most adorable French bistro we used to lunch at on the weekends.

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Le Petit Jardin, translating to “the little garden,” felt like something out of a fairy tale for me. It was tiny, it was authentic, and eating there felt special. I think this may have been the start of where my love affair with all things French began. I remember when my grandmother went to France when I was very young, and I was so excited when she brought me home the most fabulous gifts, including a book from the Louvre that I could never put down. When I had to pick a foreign language to learn in the third grade, the choice was easy: Français, s’il vous plaït. I’ll never forget – my favorite shirt that I simply had to wear the first day of school was from this little white tee that had giant purple polka dots all over, and the word “Bonjour!” was printed right above each dot.

I was already obsessed. With a place I’d never been, and truthfully couldn’t have known much about, but something about it just mesmerized me. I went on to take French for another eight years, and I was considered fluent in high school, at which point I’d taken it as far as I could. I’ll never forgive myself for not continuing to take in college. When I did finally go to France after graduating college, I could get myself around, but I’d love to be fluent again. There’s always the Rosetta Stone, right?

So, in memory of my grandmother, who shaped who I am in countless ways and who I think of everyday – I bring you one of our favorite French dishes: Onion soup.

Because if there was something my grandmother loved to eat more than chocolate, it was cheese. (Yes, I clearly inherited this from her as well.) There was nothing better than all of that crispy, crunchy layer of golden-brown cheese we’d get on the top of our French onion soup.

C’est magnifique!

Soupe a’ l’Oignon

From Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking via Smitten Kitchen

  • 1 1/2 pounds or about 5 cups of thinly sliced yellow onions
  • 3 tablespoons butter
  • 1 tablespoon oil
  • A heavy-bottomed 4-quart covered saucepan
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon sugar (helps the onions to brown)
  • 3 tablespoons flour
  • 2 quarts boiling brown stock, canned beef bouillon, or 1 quart of boiling water and 1 quart of stock or bouillon
  • 1/2 cup dry white wine or dry white vermouth
  • Salt and pepper to taste
  • 3 tablespoons cognac
  • Rounds of hard-toasted French bread Gratinéed with Cheese (see recipe below)

Cook the onions slowly with the butter and oil in the covered saucepan for 15 minutes.Uncover, raise heat to moderate, and stir in the salt and sugar. Cook for 30 to 40 minutes stirring frequently, until the onions have turned an even, deep, golden brown. Sprinkle the flour and stir for three minutes.

Off heat, blend in the boiling liquid. Add the wine and season to taste. Simmer partially covered for 30 to 40 minutes of more, skimming occasionally. Correct seasoning. Set aside uncovered until ready to serve. Then reheat to a simmer. Just before serving, stir in the cognac. Use following instructions for a baked cheese top.

Soupe a’ L’Oignon Gratinée {Onion Soup Gratinéed with Cheese}

  • The preceeding onion soup
  • A fireproof tureen or casserole or individual onion soup pots
  • 2 ounces Swiss cheese cut into very thin slivers
  • 1 tablespoon grated raw onion
  • 12 to 16 rounds of hard toasted French bread
  • 1/2 cups grated Swiss, or Swiss and Parmesan cheese
  • Olive oil or small bits of butter for topping

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Bring the soup to the boil and pour into the tureen or soup pots. Stir in the slivered cheese and grated onion. Float the rounds of toast on top of the soup, and spread the grated cheese over it. Sprinkle with the oil or butter. Bake for 20 minutes in the oven, then set for a minute or two under a preheated broiler to brown the top lightly. Serve immediately.

quiche lorraine.

February 25, 2011 — 2 Comments

Quiche Lorraine is one of those dishes where it seems everyone has a different opinion about how the traditional version is prepared.

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I’ve read bacon and Swiss, some with leeks, some not – but most of them have one thing in common: a custard made with an ungodly amount of cream and a little bit of egg. Most also seem to include bacon, as this recipe does – I think it’s safe to say that any recipe by Julia is probably pretty close to the traditional.

You’ll be amazed at how this quiche is so rich and light at the same time. I love that it almost bears the flavor of cheese, without actually having to add any. But even moreso, I’m in love with this crust. I’ve never used shortening before, and I think that may have been the key (though I know many of you are likely turned off by it). It was so unbelievably flaky, I had zero problems with it cooking unevenly, and it was super easy to roll out and work with.

I used a springform pan, so I ended up with sort of a funny shape, but next time I would probably use a regular pie dish. I added extra custard to try and fill it higher to the top, but it didn’t really work since my springform is so high, so I recommend using a pie plate and sticking with the recipe below.

Quiche Lorraine

Adapted from Mastering the Art of French Cooking via Saveur

The crust:

  • 2 cups flour
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • Pinch sugar
  • 8 tablespoons cold butter, cut into small pieces
  • 3 tablespoons cold vegetable shortening, cut into small pieces
  • 1 egg, lightly beaten
The filling:

  • 6 ounces bacon, diced
  • 3 eggs, lightly beaten
  • 2 cups heavy cream
  • 1/2 cup sour cream
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • Freshly grated nutmeg
  • Freshly ground black pepper

For the crust: Sift together flour, salt, and sugar into a mixing bowl. Use a pastry cutter or two knives to work butter and shortening into flour until it resembles coarse meal. Sprinkle in up to 6 tbsp. ice water, stirring the dough with a fork until it just begins to hold together. Using your hands, press dough firmly into a rough ball, then transfer to a lightly floured surface. Give the dough several quick kneads with the heel of your hand to form a smooth dough, then shape into a ball, flatten slightly to make a round, and dust with flour. Wrap round in plastic and refrigerate for 2 hours.

Preheat oven to 400°. Allow dough to soften slightly at room temperature before rolling out on a lightly floured surface into a 14” round. Fit dough, without stretching it, into a buttered 10” bottomless metal flan ring, 1 1⁄2” deep, set on a parchment paper-lined cookie sheet with no rim (or a pie plate). Press overhanging dough down slightly into sides of ring to make the sides of the crust a little thicker and sturdier. Run the rolling pin over the top of the ring to remove any overhanging dough. Using a fork, prick bottom lightly, then make a decorative edge around the rim. Line dough with buttered aluminum foil, then add pie weights or dried beans. Bake until crust is set and edge just begins to color, about 25 minutes. Remove foil and weights, brush bottom and sides with egg, and continue baking until crust is pale golden, another 2-5 minutes.

For the filling: Reduce heat to 375°. Put bacon in a medium pan, cover with cold water, and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. (I found this to be a strange step, and though I couldn’t find out for sure why, I believe it has something to do with removing the excess salt from the bacon.) Boil for 5 minutes, then drain. Return bacon to pan and cook over medium heat until lightly browned, about 3 minutes. Transfer bacon with a slotted spoon to a paper towel to drain, then arrange on bottom of crust.

Beat eggs, cream, and salt together in a medium bowl and season to taste with nutmeg and pepper. Pour mixture into crust and bake until custard is puffed and golden and just set in the center, 30-35 minutes. Slide quiche off parchment paper (or remove from pie plate) onto a serving platter and remove ring. Serve quiche warm or at room temperature, sliced into wedges.

steak au poivre.

February 22, 2011 — 4 Comments

And to complete your French bistro meal, you’ll need a little something more than just shoestring fries.

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A tender, perfectly cooked filet of beef au poivre is just the thing. Add a simple green salad, and all you’re missing is a fabulous Parisian sidewalk on which to enjoy your dinner.

I’ve heard of steak au poivre many times and seen it on many a French bistro menu, but it’s something I’ve never ordered. I knew that the steak was encrusted in peppercorns, but I never realized that another key component of the dish is the Cognac  sauce. Something I’ve really come to love about French cooking is their heavy hand with Cognac – in fact, I just went through my first bottle and had to go and buy a second one (I went larger this time!). Some recipes opt to add heavy cream, but I don’t think you need it; the Cognac and the shallots provide plenty of complex flavor.

Though you don’t have to use filet, it’s the most commonly used cut of beef for the dish. It happens to be my favorite cut, and one I cook at home at least once a month. Usually, I use both the stove top and the oven to make my filet, but here you’re pan-frying the entire time. If you follow Ina’s exact cooking times, you’ll end up with a perfect medium-rare.

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Filet of Beef au Poivre

From Ina Garten

  • 6 filet mignon, cut 1 1/4 inches thick
  • Kosher salt
  • 2 tablespoons coarsely ground black pepper
  • 3 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
  • 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 3/4 cup chopped shallots (3 to 4 shallots)
  • 1 cup beef broth
  • 1/2 cup good Cognac

Place the filets on a board and pat them dry with paper towels. Sprinkle the filets with salt and then press the black pepper evenly on both sides. Allow to rest at room temperature for 15 minutes.

Heat 1 1/2 tablespoons of the butter and the oil in a large saute pan over medium-high heat until the butter almost smokes. Place the steaks in the pan and lower the heat to medium. Saute the steaks for 4 minutes on 1 side and then for 3 minutes on the other side, for medium rare. Remove the steaks to a serving platter and cover tightly with aluminum foil.

Meanwhile, pour all but 1 tablespoon of fat from the saute pan. Add the shallots and cook over medium heat for 2 minutes. Add the beef broth and cook over high heat for 4 to 6 minutes, until reduced by half, scraping the brown bits from the bottom of the pan. Add the Cognac and cook for 2 more minutes. Off the heat, swirl in the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Serve the steaks hot with the sauce poured on top.

As good as these fries are, I almost feel I should keep them a secret from you.

Because if you’re anything like me, your self-control will have no chance against these fries. Once you learn how easy it is to make these steakhouse/bistro/Houston’s-like french fries in your own home, things may get out of hand – and fast.

Shoestring Bistro-Style Fries

Adapted from Saveur

  • Peanut oil
  • 2 large Idaho or Russet potatoes
  • Kosher salt

Pour oil to a depth of 2″ into a large heavy-bottomed dutch oven and heat over medium-high heat until a deep-fry thermometer registers 375°.

Meanwhile, julienne potatoes lengthwise using the narrowest setting of a mandoline with a julienne attachment or by hand with a sharp knife; as you’re going, dump them into a bowl of cold water so that they won’t stick together as they fry in the oil. Drain potatoes, transfer to kitchen or paper towels, and pat dry well.

Working in 4 batches, fry potatoes, stirring constantly with a slotted spoon and maintaining an oil temperature of at least 350° (adding the potatoes will cause the temperature to drop), until potatoes are light golden brown and crisp, about 2 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer fried potatoes to paper towels to drain. Season potatoes with plenty of salt while they’re still hot, and serve.

Makes 3 to 4 servings.

We couldn’t go through an entire February in France without at least some mention of beurre blanc.

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Bits of butter are gradually whisked into an acidic reduction of white vinegar, wine, and/or lemon juice. The end result is a rich, creamy sauce loaded with flavor. In France they might add it to anything from a clean, simply-prepared fish to a breakfast of poached eggs and asparagus.

Beurre blanc translates literally to “white butter.” I’ve recently learned that this is because the delicate sauce is meant to keep its lighter color rather than to be browned. (I don’t think I followed the rules last year when I made it for Valentine’s Day last year over scallops – still, it was delicious.)

Butter is basically a combination of fat and water, so the secret of making a proper beurre blanc lies in helping the butter to preserve its makeup. This is done by slowly whisking the butter into the acidic reduction, bit by bit. When I first started cooking, I never understood why some recipes (particularly in baking) added these extra steps. Why shouldn’t I add the entire stick of butter (or two!) at once? Very rarely do recipes explain things like this in detail; instead, I often find myself researching and googling to figure out why I just did whatever I did. If I ever write a cookbook, I will be sure to explain as many intricacies or backstory on the process as I can, so that people can learn – and until then, I will include it here for you on this blog!

This recipe is special, to say the least. You’ll need a lot of champagne, and even more butter. The end result is something spectacular. The clean, fresh flavor of the marinated shrimp pairs so well with the richness of the sauce, and the herbs bring more of that freshness back into the dish at the end.

And though the shrimp look beautiful as served in the above photo, it’s also a bit of a pain to set them all up this way. Don’t feel like you have to – we didn’t. Just pile them onto a plate (with plenty of crusty bread) and dig in!

Marinated Shrimp with Champagne Beurre Blanc

From Bon Appétit

Sauce:

  • 2 cups champagne or dry sparkling wine
  • 1/3 cup finely chopped shallots
  • 2 tablespoons champagne vinegar or other white wine vinegar
  • 1/4 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
Shrimp:

  • 1 cup champagne or other dry sparkling wine
  • 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
  • 3 tablespoons minced shallots
  • 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 24 extra-large uncooked shrimp (about 2 pounds), peeled with tail left intact, deveined
  • 1 tablespoon minced fresh chives
  • 1 tablespoon minced fresh tarragon
  • 1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
  • Nonstick vegetable oil spray
  • 1 cup (2 sticks) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 16 pieces

For sauce base:

Combine champagne, shallots, vinegar, and peppercorns in heavy medium saucepan. Boil until reduced to 1/4 cup liquid, about 20 minutes. (Can be made 4 hours ahead. Cover and let stand at room temperature.)

For shrimp:

Combine champagne, olive oil, shallots, and ground pepper in resealable plastic bag. Add shrimp to bag and seal; shake bag to coat shrimp evenly. Marinate shrimp at room temperature at least 30 minutes and up to 1 hour, turning bag occasionally. Mix chives, tarragon, and parsley in small bowl.

Preheat broiler. Spray broiler pan with nonstick vegetable oil spray. Drain shrimp; discard plastic bag with marinade. Arrange shrimp on prepared pan in single layer. Broil shrimp until just opaque in center, about 2 minutes per side. Stand 3 shrimp, tails upright, in center of each plate.

Rewarm sauce base over medium-low heat. Whisk in butter 1 piece at a time, just allowing each to melt before adding next (do not boil or sauce will separate). Season beurre blanc to taste with salt and pepper.

One year ago today…IMG_1299.JPG

Can you guess what happened?

If you’re as smart as I think you are, you’re right – 20something cupcakes was born!

I never could have imagined how much happiness this tiny blog would bring to my life. I am so appreciative of all of you who read this blog, whether it’s everyday or simply when you have a spare moment. When I receive messages from you telling me that I inspired you to make something delicious or try something new – and that you actually loved it! – I cannot even express to you how much that means to me.

That’s what this is all about for me. Inspiring others, and in turn inspiring myself.

I’ve grown as a cook, and I’m now attempting to grow as a photographer – which is a daunting project, to say the least. I welcome the challenge. My passion for food, writing, and where they intersect grows each day more and more. You may already know my dream is to one day host my own private cooking classes, but I’ve also recently discovered that I want to go to culinary school. The idea of writing a cookbook one day makes my heart race with excitement. I’ve finally come to that seemingly elusive place where I know what I want to do with my life. I’m not sure how I’ll get there just yet, but I sure am glad I know where I’m going.

So, let’s celebrate.

And while some people make cakes for this sort of thing, I thought a cocktail would be more appropriate. You know by now it’s my favorite way to celebrate – it is where we started, after all – and I can’t think of a more fitting cocktail than the French martini. This is probably my favorite martini (other than an extra-dirty, but that’s a totally different category); the Chambord adds just enough color to turn it the most beautiful shade of pink, and the flavors of pineapple and raspberry are incredible together. It’s girlie, yet sophisticated – and strong enough without being overpowering, the way some martinis are. Adding champagne at the end is optional, and while it may not be traditional, I think it makes the drink.

We can’t celebrate without champagne, can we?

Thank you for being a part of this journey. I truly couldn’t do it without you. Cheers, dolls – to a life worth living!

French Martini

  • 1 1/2 ounces vodka
  • 1 ounce pineapple juice
  • 1/2 ounce Chambord (raspberry liqueur)
  • Ice
  • Champagne

Add vodka, pineapple juice, and Chambord to a cocktail shaker filled with ice. Shake vigorously and strain into a chilled martini glass. Top with champagne.

Makes one serving.

french potato salad.

February 16, 2011 — 1 Comment

I am smitten with this salad.

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It’s another great example proving French food doesn’t have to be fattening or overcomplicated.

To start, you won’t find any mayonnaise. The dressing is made by simply pouring white wine and a bit of olive oil over the warm potatoes, and then adding a touch of Dijon along with plenty of fresh herbs and seasonings. I can’t tell you how happy it made me to pour wine over my salad. You’ll feel fabulously French, and you won’t believe the amazing flavor it imparts – just be sure to use a good wine!

The finishing touch of chopped eggs is another reason to love this salad – if you like hard-boiled eggs as much as I do – and I wouldn’t be offended if you opted to add a few Niçoise olives. Though Jacques and Julia suggested serving over a bowl of radicchio leaves, I didn’t because I had enough beautiful purple coloring from the jewel-tone potatoes.

Who knew potato salad could be so elegant? Just leave it to the French.

Jacques’ French Potato Salad

Slightly adapted from Julia Child and Jacques Pépin

  • 2 pounds fingerling potatoes or other small waxy potatoes {I used a mixture of purple potatoes and regular}
  • 1/2 cup or so extra-virgin olive oil
  • 1/2 bunch scallions, sliced
  • 1/2 cup chopped onion
  • 5 cloves garlic, mashed and coarsely chopped
  • 1/3 cup white wine
  • 2 tablespoons Dijon-style mustard {you may want to add more as the salad sits and the flavor settles in}
  • 2 to 3 tablespoons chopped chives
  • 2 tablespoons or more coarsely chopped fresh green or purple basil, fresh tarragon, or parsley {I used basil}
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more if needed
  • 1/2 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper, plus more if needed
  • 2 or 3 hard-boiled eggs, coarsely chopped
  • Chopped fresh parsley

Scrub the potatoes and put them, whole, in a saucepan with water to cover by 1/2 inch. Bring the water to a boil, reduce the heat, and cook the potatoes gently until they are just tender and can be pierced with a sharp knife. Drain immediately and let cool slightly. (Scrape the skin from the cooked potatoes, if you want, as soon as they can be handled. For a decorative look with fingerlings, scrape off only a band of skin, about 1/2 inch thick, all around the long sides of the potato.)

Heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a small saute pan. When hot, add the scallions and the onion, toss to coat well, and cook for about a minute over medium-high heat. Add the garlic, toss to mix, and cook for just a few moments, then remove the pan from the heat.

Slice the potatoes while still warm, cutting them crosswise into 1/2-inch sections. Put the pieces in a large mixing bowl, pour the wine and 3 or 4 tablespoons of olive oil over them, and toss gently to distribute. Add the warm vegetables from the pan, mustard, chives, chopped herbs, salt, and pepper, and gently fold all together, mixing well but not crushing the potatoes. Taste the salad and add more seasonings as you like.

Serve the potatoes warm (no colder than room temperature). Sprinkle chopped egg and parsley over the top.

Serves 4 to 6.

paris mushroom soup.

February 15, 2011 — Leave a comment

Are you a soup person?

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I wouldn’t say that I am. I do love a good soup, but some people are much more attached to it. I’m sure you know someone that must order soup nearly every time he or she goes out to eat – or perhaps you are that person.

Daniel is a self-proclaimed soup person, and so is my best friend.

This soup makes me feel like a soup person. Ever since I made it, I have been dreaming about the leftovers of this soup. And, of course, that’s because the star of this soup is the mushroom – my favorite vegetable.

It’s a perfect example of how food doesn’t have to be fussy to be delicious. This soup is as simple as it gets; it’s onions, garlic, mushrooms, a few herbs, a touch of white wine, and broth or water. It’s amazing how just a few ingredients can create such complex flavors when they’re treated the right way.

The crème fraîche is optional, but I highly recommend it. I used to buy it myself, but it’s expensive – and I would often find myself throwing most of it away. I’ve since discovered how easy it is to make it yourself, with ingredients I always have on hand: heavy cream and either buttermilk or sour cream. And there’s just something about a little jar of a homemade condiment that excites me.

Paris Mushroom Soup

Adapted from Dorie Greenspan’s Around My French Cookbook

Dorie recommends serving this soup over a small salad of raw mushrooms seasoned with salt, pepper, chopped chives and parsley – just the way she first had it in the French bistro, Les Papilles. This way, the heat from soup softly cooks the fresh mushrooms. Cover and refrigerate for up to three days or freeze for up to 2 months.

  • 2 tablespoons butter, separated
  • 1-1/2 large onions, coarsely chopped
  • 3 large cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
  • Salt and freshly ground pepper
  • 1-1/2 pounds white mushrooms, trimmed, sliced
  • 2 parsley sprigs
  • 1 rosemary sprig
  • 1/3 cup dry white wine
  • 4 cups chicken broth
  • 2 cups water {you can also use any other combination of chicken broth and/or water to make 6 cups}
  • Crème fraîche, see below to make your own

Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter in a Dutch oven or soup pot over low heat. Add onions, garlic, salt and pepper to taste. Cook, stirring often, until the vegetables are soft, 5 minutes. Add the mushrooms and remaining tablespoon of the butter. Raise the heat to medium. Cook, stirring, until the mushrooms release their liquid, about 3 minutes. Increase the heat to high; cook until almost all the liquid evaporates. Pour in the wine; let boil until almost evaporated.

Add the broth and herbs; heat to a boil. Lower the heat; cover the pot almost completely. Simmer 20 minutes. Discard the rosemary sprig.

Puree the soup in small batches in a blender or food processor until smooth. Taste for salt and white pepper. Pour the soup back into the pot; heat over low heat until hot. Serve garnished with crème fraîche.

Homemade Crème Fraîche

  • 1 cup heavy cream
  • 3 tablespoons buttermilk or sour cream

Add ingredients to a jar. Cover and give it a good shake. Let stand at room temperature overnight or for up to 24 hours. Mixture will thicken. Refrigerate and store tightly covered for up to two weeks.