'The French Market' by Joanne Harris and Fran Warde HarperCollins Publishers -- 2005 Buy it on Amazon
Although glorious American markets do exist, nothing quite compares to the French marketplace -- the endless barrels of olives alone distinguish them. But in the next-best-thing category, the author of "My French Kitchen" attempted -- and succeeded -- to capture the art of French market-inspired cooking yet again in "The French Market: More Recipes from a French Kitchen."
French cooking at its core makes strong use of fresh produce, with dishes like the traditional tomato salad, which frugally pairs tomatoes with parsley and heaps of pepper to magnificent results. "The French Market" seems to share this proclivity for cooking with tight ingredient lists, relying largely on the flavors of quality produce -- and the occasional bouquet garni.
See what we tested and find out whether the book's worth buying after the jump.
I spent most of June anticipating the 4th of July. It's not that I harbor a particular love for fireworks, crowds or parades. I was looking forward to it because it was was a Friday off from work that I could use to go berry picking. I got up early and drove out to rural New Jersey to Mood's Farm Market to pick blueberries. Sadly, the berries weren't quite as ripe as I would have liked (I imagine they are absolutely perfect today) but I still managed to pick 8 pounds of sweet, spicy and tart berries.
While at the market, I also picked up 2 quarts of tiny plums, half a dozen super-fresh ears of corn, several pounds of new potatoes (destined for a quick trip through the oven with rosemary and garlic), a dozen fresh apple cider donuts (possibly one of the best treats ever created), a whole mess of Kirby cucumbers and half a bushel of small, sweet white peaches. Details about how I used all this wonderful, fresh abundance is after the jump.
Wandering past the mini-farmers market than takes place on Tuesday mornings by Rittenhouse Square, I spotted a basket of rhubarb. It's been nearly a month since I'd seen rhubarb at the market, I had thought it was gone until next spring. But it was there, and at a fairly good price too, so I scooped up a pound to go with the elderly strawberries in my fridge.
I sliced up the fruit and rhubarb and tossed them with a little vanilla-infused sugar and a squirt of lemon juice. While they sat, getting juicy and delicious, I quickly pulled together a topping. I like the topping for crisps to be reminiscent of granola (occasionally I actually just use granola if I'm in a hurry and have it around) and so I dumped approximately a cup and a half of rolled oats into a bowl (I do not measure for things like this). I added a cup of chopped pecans, a sprinkling of cinnamon and nutmeg, a bit of light brown sugar and half a stick of softened butter. I used a pastry blender just to break down the butter a bit and finished combining it all with my fingers.
I transferred the fruit from bowl to baking dish and evenly distributed the oat/nut/sugar/butter mixture across the top. It went into the oven for about 25 minutes at 350 degrees, until the fruit was tender and the nuts were toasted. It was delicious hot, but it is even better for breakfast, straight out of the fridge, with a scoop of plain yogurt along side.
My Slashfood friends, I am a sadist. Or is it masochist? I never knew the difference between the two.
Either way, for some reason known only to, well, to no one, I decided to do the most punishing thing ever on a hot summer day: turn on the oven. I know, I must be crazy. The inexplicable thing is, however, that I turned it on to roast something that doesn't need to be roasted. If I needed to make a roasted garlic puree, I could justify it. If I felt like roasting a lemon herb chicken for Sunday supper, it would make sense.
My friends, I roasted tomatoes. Tomatoes! At this point in the season, there is absolutely no need to roast produce that is practically dripping with fresh flavor right off the vine!
However, I couldn't resist after I came across a recipe for Roasted Tomato Soup while flipping lazily through Marcus Wareing's Cook the Perfect cookbook.
I like to spend my mornings cruising the Maine byways, looking for farms and produce stands to put together a fresh and tasty lunch and dinner. I let the season control what is available and the daily finds are always a surprise.
This morning I came across a few nice tasty treats. Fresh green peas in the pod; firm, sweet, and an intense, summery green. Tiny, new, red potatoes the size of marbles. Sweet, green topped, early summer onions looking like fat golf balls. Farm fresh butter made from cultured sour cream and churned pale yellow and creamy with just a hint of sea salt. Local, double rich cream so thick it wouldn't even need whipping. I picked up a potted rosemary bush a deep, verdant green that I could put just outside my front door. Finally I stopped by a U-Pick strawberry field for some deep red, fat and luscious berries. I had some other items at home that would round out these items into a meal that would be full of summer flavors, filling but not too heavy.
In the summer I find I am just not as hungry as other times of the year unless I spend the day hiking or biking. I tend to eat less and much healthier, although I do like a wee bit of fat in my food to appease my craving for luxuriousness. I love soup and decided on a Fresh Pea, Baby Potato, and Sweet Onion Soup; blended into a smooth puree and with a hint of ginger, rosemary, and garlic. This would be a late lunch / early dinner that would be filling enough to last all evening; with just some fresh strawberries and cream for a dessert later in the evening.
When we talk about food porn, it is usually referring to completed dishes that look simply outstanding. Sometimes though, it is the fresh, natural food that really looks best. A reader sent in this link to his Flickr photo pool which contains some beautiful shots of fresh produce from his local Community Supported Agriculture in Oxford, CT. Whether you eat them raw or use them in recipes, the vegetables pictured here can inspire hundreds of meal ideas.
Have you seen any other shots of beautiful, fresh fruits and vegetables? Send them in to us.
This morning while I was prepapring vegetables to add to my egg white omelet for brunch, I came across something that sort of freaked me out in a fascinating, but still scary, way. I cut open a red bell pepper and when I peered inside to see if I had cleared the seeds, I saw a mutant green growth in the top! It kind of looks like a curled leaf or perhaps the beginning of a tiny new bell pepper.
It made me think my bell pepper was a mutant, and I wasn't sure if it was natural, or the result of some strange alien voodoo. What is wrong with this bell pepper? Is there something wrong with it? Will I die if I eat it? Or will I just spontaneously sprout small green bell peppers from somewhere on my body? My imagination sort of went crazy.
Then I got hungry so I added the pepper to the pan for the omelet. I have yet to see if I sprout bell peppers on my body somewhere.
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