Epicurean Bliss

In the past few lessons we’ve wrapped up our “travels” through some of the most delicious regions in France, just in time to depart to the homeland of my heritage – Italy! But before we can dive headfirst into some fabulous Italiano cuisine, there were a few essential regional French dishes that deserve some accolades.

I’m pleased to report that with regional French cooking demystified and behind us, I can reflect that cooking authentic French food is not particularly complex or difficult – rather, it’s just plain time-consuming, and it may require you to Google the names of some lesser known ingredients. But I feel pretty confident in saying that thorough organizational and time management skills might actually trump culinary prowess when it comes to cooking French food.

When I last checked in, we were dousing our bubbling pots with heavy cream and calvados as we explored the cuisine of Normandy and Brittany – the wet, coastal regions of Northern France. In the past few lessons, we’ve taken a turn south and mastered dishes that most Americans more readily associate with French cuisine: classics like Cassoulet, Duck Confit, Salade Lyonnaisse and Boeuf Bourguignon (Happy 99th Birthday, Julia Child!). These are the dishes that prove that the French have known for some time what they’re doing; each one was full of complex flavor, moist and succulent, and capitalized on fresh ingredients local to its region of origin.

We started in the Midi region of France. Years ago, before modernizations in food transport and storage made fresh ingredients readily available in many areas, the harsh winters of the Midi region led its inhabitants to create dishes that capitalized on non-perishable ingredients that could be prepared during the more bountiful months and stored through the winter. Ingredients like duck confit, which was (and still can be) stored in the fat it’s cooked in for weeks; garlic sausage; navy beans; salt-cured ham hocks. Enter, Cassoulet.

Before last week, the extent of my knowledge on Cassoulet centered on hearing about Anthony Bourdain’s obsession and my own father rave about how delicious the one he enjoyed on his trip to France was. I’d heard whisperings that it was extremely complex, and yet we were going to make it in a day! Nay, four hours! Thanks to Chef, who cooked our duck confit ahead of time for us, we were  able to pull it off. Since cassoulet was such a mystery to me, here’s a bit of an explanation. The building blocks for a cassoulet are as follows: navy beans, simmered until tender in a broth of water, ham hock and onion; lamb seared and stewed in wine, veal stock and tomato concasse; duck confit; garlic sausage; and sautéed pork tenderloin. The beans are layered with the meat (three layers of beans, two of meat), and the whole thing is doused with the stewing liquid, topped with duck fat, breadcrumbs and parsley, and baked in the oven until crispy and bubbling. The resulting casserole is full of rich, warm layers of flavors that have melded together and enhanced each other, diversity of textures, and earthy undertones from the garlic, onion and beans. For someone who rarely eats food this heavy, I have no problem admitting that this was flat-out one of the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted.

While we used some of the duck confit for the Cassoulet, we reserved a few legs and crisped them up in a hot sauté pan full of duck fat to top this salad of Watercress, Red Cabbage and Candied Walnuts. The biggest lesson we learned from this dish? Always make hundreds of some extra candied walnuts. Or hide them. ‘Cause man, do those things disappear in a busy kitchen.

One of the coolest dishes from the Midi region we learned to make was Pommes a la Sarladaise. “Sarladaise” technically translates to “Duck Fat,” but we cooked these potatoes in clarified butter because, well, there was definitely enough duck fat going on elsewhere (re: confit, cassoulet). It still came out delicious, crisp and caramelized – not to mention, beautiful. Check out the flower petal-like pattern!

But what exactly is going on here? Well, after you wash and peel your potatoes, slice them very thinly on a mandolin. Also, peel and slice some truffles. Yep, black truffles. No big deal. (Seriously, it’s very cool that we get to work with truffles. And now we know where that tuition money is going ) Then, in a hot saute pan with some warmed clarified butter, begin to layer the potatoes, starting in the center and layering outwards. For every two layers of potato, you add a layer of truffles and some salt and pepper until you have a mound that peeks over the rim of the pan. Pop it in the oven, baked it for 20-25 minutes, flip it once, and as soon as it’s golden brown and cooked through, it’s ready.

As one of my classmates put it, this dish is pretty sexy. The slivers of black truffle take what would be a fairly basic potato dish, and kick it up a notch!

In the last night of French cooking, we took on some more classics – dishes you are likely to see in any bistro, like Salade Lyonnaisse and Boeuf Bourguignon. The Salade Lyonnaise, a frisee salad topped with lardons, handmade croutons and poached egg, tossed in a warm red wine vinaigrette, was a personal favorite. Call me crazy, but egg yolk to me is the perfect creamy pairing for greens – it’s like nature’s salad dressing! How beautiful is that?

Alongside the salad we served a dish whose French name translates to “Brains of the Silk Weaver.” Um, what? This name sort of stopped me dead in my tracks. I immediately assumed we were going to be dealing with some sort of obscure organ meat or, dare I say, brains?

Maybe admitting this removes all my credibility as a foodie, but I really don’t like offal. I just like to stick with what works, like the tenderloin, for example. Luckily, this dish’s name was based solely on the visual description of the farmer’s cheese that was the central ingredient of this dish. We whipped the cheese up with some minced shallots, herbs, salt and pepper, and were left with a spread that I’d liken to Boursin - but better. We schmeared it on some olive-oil toasted crostini and chowed down – these were a huge crowd pleaser, and there were barely any left by the end of class.

This next dish is what my classmates and I would refer to as “Wow-zah!” Since I can’t technically tell you exactly what’s in that (proprietary curriculum knowledge, etc.), I will give you a brief overview of all that goes into this little gratin dish of seafood paradise. Whole shrimp (head on, if you like), sautéed and then added to a creamy garlicky mushroom sauce. Once that is laid down in the gratin dish, a glaze is made by combining a seafood velouté (one of the mother sauces, this time made with a shrimp stock), whipped heavy cream and hollandaise sauce (FYI – a sauce made from hollandaise and whipped cream is called a Chantilly sauce). The glaze is poured over the shrimp…

And the whole thing goes under the broiler for a couple of minutes. The result?

A gorgeous shrimp gratin! I thought it was amazing how the top looked like a bubbling layer of cheese, and yet there was no cheese anywhere in the topping at all! Cooking really is such an interesting science.

Finally, the grand finale of the evening and our journey into regional French cooking, the very appropriate Boeuf Bourguignon. Every time I hear this dish mentioned, I remember that scene from Julia and Juliet where Amy Adams’ character struggles to recreate one of Julia Child’s most revered dishes. But honestly? Boeuf Bourguignon epitomizes my claim from earlier – a dish that, if you prioritize and plan properly, is fairly straightforward to make and really shouldn’t scare you! Just keep your eyes on the prize – that amazingly luscious and tangy burgundy wine sauce – which makes the entire dish worth it. Did I mention it’s topped with bacon, caramelized mushrooms and glazed onions? Mmmmhmmm.  Bon Appetit!

And so, with that, we bid France Adeiu! It’s been a wonderful couple of weeks through the countryside, and though we’ve enjoyed the pork, the duck, the bacon, and the cream, we’re moving along to Italia for some fresh pasta, light, fresh sauces, and a taste of the Mediterranean.  Until then, arrivederci!

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