Palmiers | Midnight in Paris #FoodnFlix

It's that time of the month again; time to hop into the kitchen and create something inspired by a film...this month's film being Midnight in Paris, as chosen by our May Food 'n Flix host Debra from Eliot's Eats! So, much like Debra, I'm not a big fan of Woody Allen. That said, this is one film of his that I can tolerate, and maybe even slightly enjoy. I've seen it once before, and probably bits and pieces here and there on television, but this time I sat down to watch it with my eye on the food.

Except that there wasn't all that much food to be found. There were small mentions of it here and there—baguettes, James Joyce eating sauerkraut and sausage, and acknowledgement of a shared love of Indian food and pita bread. You can glimpse people eating in restaurants, parties, and even in hotel rooms (fruit and eggs?), but you really have to pause and stare hard to try and figure out exactly what it is they're eating most of those moments. I did glimpse a pretty white macaron sculpture with a dove perched atop, but it was far too sweaty here this week to attempt meringue.

Finding Fontainebleau, An American Boy in France | Book Tour

Today I'm hosting a book tour stop for the memoir, Finding Fontainebleau, An American Boy in France. Written by Thad Carhart, this memoir recounts the author's move to "a provincial town just south of Paris", home to France's greatest château, as a 4-year old when his military officer father was assigned there.

I have a weird relationship with memoirs. I'm usually hesitant to say that I enjoy them as a genre, since they vary so much. In general, I like them...history, culture, and memories told from first-hand experience. When they're good, they're really good. I love the ones that I can get carried away in, as if the author pulled me right into a different time and place.

Herbes de Provence Roasted Chicken and Potatoes + an Amélie Inspired Menu

Although I can't recall the exact date (or even year) that I first watched Amélie, it seems like it's been one of my favorites for years. Originally released in 2001, this French film is about a young girl raised and schooled at home by parents who were trying to protect her since they mistakenly thought she had a heart defect. Since Amélie is without playmates, she develops a world of magic and mischief inside her head.

She loses her mother young and watches her father become more reclusive as the years go by. When she is old enough to venture out on her own, she moves to an apartment in Montmartre and works as a waitress at the Café des 2 Moulins (Two Windmills Cafe). Her wonderfully quirky apartment shows the imagination that she had a child still lives openly within her as a young adult.

Chocolate Fruit 'n Nut Bites

Here's the thing, I love holiday baking. The planning, the process, the wrapping, the handing out to teachers, bus drivers, neighbors, and loved ones...or at least, I used to. I'd still love it if I could only find the time to do it. For the past 5 or 6 years, it seems like I go to sleep after a satisfying Thanksgiving meal and wake up a few days before Christmas in a panic. The holidays are stressful, yo.

But I do my best to wake up in the middle of it all and actually get something done. Therefore, easy holiday baking and treat recipes are a life saver. And really, these chocolate fruit 'n nut bites couldn't be any simpler. There's not really even a recipe, but I did write down approximate amounts of what I used so that you could have a bit of a guideline to go off of.

Masala Omelette inspired by The Hundred-Foot Journey #FoodnFlix

This month's edition of Food 'n Flix features a movie that both starts and ends with food-laden scenes (not mention everything in the middle)—The Hundred-Foot Journey. Based on the novel of the same name by Richard C. Morais, the story begins in India with the Kaddam family restaurant. We see a young Hassan Kadam, already exploring food with his senses under the tutelage of his beloved mother. When tragedy strikes and the family is displaced from their home, they eventually make their way to a small French village by way of fate since sometimes "brakes break for a reason".

As fate would have it, there is an abandoned restaurant for sale in this quaint town...but it happens to be a mere hundred feet across the street from Madame Mallory's acclaimed Michelin 1-star classical French restaurant. And she's none to happy to welcome the competition or the "life" that comes with it.

French Onion Soup inspired by Paris Time Capsule

I'm back today with another book tour, this time highlighting the novel originally released in May 2014 by Ella Carey—Paris Time Capsule. By now you probably know that my favorite types of books are those that allow me to get lost in them, to step out of my own head and into the world of the character. I particularly enjoy foodie novels or cozies, stories of travel, chick-lit (think chick-flick in book form), intriguing mysteries, or like this one, a combination of more than one of those genres.

Inspired by an actual apartment that was discovered untouched since the Nazi invasion of Paris, there's a bit of historical fiction in the pages of Paris Time Capsule. When Cat is called to Paris for the reading of a will of someone she never knew, life as she knows it changes. In her search to uncover the past, she learns not only more about the mysterious Isabelle de Florian but also about who she, herself, is and wants.

From Paris to the south of France, there's enough scenery and history in this book to warm any Francophile's heart. I also loved the descriptions of Cat's vintage clothing and style, the oh-which-of-the-two-hot-guys-that-love-me-do-I-choose angle, and the dreaminess of inheriting not only a beautiful old apartment in Paris, but also the prospective fortune that it contains aspect.

Kouign Amann

Before I say anything else, I have to tell you to muster up every last ounce of your willpower and let these cool to room temperature before eating them. It'll be hard, this I know. Actually, go ahead and eat one while it's still really warm—I want you to compare. You see, once they've come to room temperature, and you bite through the crisp outside and into the soft, flaky layers...the cooled butter and sugar will have formed these gooey little sugar pockets that explode onto your tongue. It's kind of magical.

Kouign Amann, pronounced "koo-WEEN a-MON" or "queen a-mahn", is this month's Bread Baking Babes pick as chosen by Lien (our BBBabes Kitchen of the Month). I'll go ahead and admit that when Lien told us what we'd be making this month, I had never heard of it. But after looking around a bit, I first discovered that the name translates to "butter cake" in Breton, which is the ancient Celtic language of Brittany, France. Well, that in itself is enough to get me excited.

The cast of The Wanderer's Children talks FOOD, plus a recipe for Chocolate Soufflés!

Heads-up—this is a lengthy feature, but it includes a review, an interview, a sinfully delicious chocolate soufflé recipe, a 50% book discount code, and a ridiculously cool giveaway. If you could carve 10-15 minutes out of your day for a little escape, I'd love it if you'd take that escape with me here today.

I love finding a good book series.  Sometimes I "discover" them late in the game and come home from the library with a stack of them—because I have to start from the beginning (I'm the same way with tv series). Other times I'm lucky and discover them from book one. That's what happened with The Angelorum Twelve Chronicles by L.G. O'Connor. Now, at first I wasn't so sure. That hesitation had nothing to do with the fantasy or paranormal aspect of the books—angels, demons, and looking beyond are a draw in my book. It was the romance part of the equation I wasn't so sure about.

Before I read Trinity Stones, I'd never read a romance novel in my (at the time) 38 years. I just never had any interest in them. My experience with them only goes as far as standing in front of the small bookshelf at the supermarket when I was in elementary school. I'd study the men with muscles defined under their flowing shirts, long hair whipped back in an unseen wind. I was fascinated, yet I can't remember ever picking one up and flipping through it. I'd reach for a Stephen King novel instead. But apparently, I don't mind a little paranormal romance. Though I do still feel like I need to read it when the kids are in bed or at school (or look over my shoulder the whole time...because everybody knows kids magically appear there at the most inopportune times).

Nine months ago I stumbled into the world of the Angelorum not knowing what to expect. And like so many times before, I've been mentally willing the author to write faster! I love to savor a new book in a series, but have a hard time not just devouring it after the wait. Book two did not disappoint. O'Connor introduces us to a few new members of "the twelve" in this book. There are actually a sizeable number of characters (aka cast members)—but the story calls for it. In book one, we were introduced to Cara and Simon. I'd consider them the main characters. Michael, Sienna, Kai, and a several others were also introduced, but seemed to be more supporting characters. In this book, Michael and Sienna come to the forefront and we get to know more about what makes them tick. Kai, Brett, Angel, Paco...all of their stories are simmering on the backburner, as well...waiting to have their turn in future books.

Roasted Green Beans w/ Pistou {food 'n flix: A Good Year}

What would you do if your favorite uncle, from whom you were estranged, passed away and left you a beautiful chateau in Provence?  That is exactly the "predicament" that Max Skinner, a powerful London investment trader found himself in.  Growing up, Uncle Henry was Max's favorite person to be around. He spent time with him in France, learning life lessons sampling the wine of the land.  But Max grew up and grew away, choosing to live in the city and value money, power, (local) fame; basically, he liked a fast life.

Having just made a questionable "play" on the market, Max's best friend and lawyer, Charlie, encourages him to take a few days to fly to France and settle his affairs.  Max is determined to get in, prepare for the sale of the chateau, the land, the vines, and get out in a manner of days.  But life never goes according to plan now, does it?

Fate steps in and slowly starts to crumble Max's well-laid plans.  Memories of his youth that happened within 100 feet of where he is now standing.  And of course, there is a love story; trying to win the heart of the beautiful woman that you (unknowingly) almost killed.  There's also a wrench thrown into his plans when Henry's illegitimate daughter shows up looking for him, and Max suddenly has family again.

Making Macarons: FAIL!

This week's #SundaySupper theme is all about trying something new in the kitchen.  Be it a recipe that you've had your eye on for a while (or filed away for decades...like I may or may not have), a new technique you've been wanting to master, or perhaps diving in to a cuisine that you are unfamiliar with.  We're talking adventures today!

Of course I have countless numbers of recipes just hanging out, waiting in the wings.  But I knew right away what I was going to do this week.  I was going to make Macarons - something I have been putting off for a looooong time.  Even when that huge macaron-craze hit a few years back.  There were macaron making groups.  I would visit their posts and think about how pretty those little French cookies were.  Shells in a spectrum of beautiful colors.  Fillings that ranged from buttercream to ganache to frosting and jam.  But I only admired from afar.

Honest to dog truth?  In all of that time, I never so much as tasted a macaron.  My first bite into that crisp-on-the-outside, chewy-on-the-inside shell wrapped around buttercream actually came a mere seven months ago, on my first day in Ireland.  It was good, but soon forgotten in a haze of whiskey, foie gras, brown bread, and adorable yogurt jars.

So, having read and intentionally/unintentionally prepared for this moment for so many years, I decided it was time to s*it or get off the pot.  And I wasn't going to start with just any macaron - oh no.  I wanted to attempt a Cheetos Macaron that I had recently read about.  Several times.  The shells were plain, and there was a cheetos-infused ganache in between.  I even saved a few cheetos for crumbling and dusting the top of the shells.

First came the ganache:  x-amount of cheetos infused in heavy cream and strained once cool.  Combine the now-cheesy cream with white chocolate to make a ganache.  Or so was the plan.  It all started out well.  Putting cheetos and heavy cream in a pot together made me unusually happy.  Until the cheetos soaked up every single last bit of cream, leaving none to be strained and used for the ganache.  Instead I had a wet mass of unusable goo.  Fail.

So, time to reformulate.  The rest of the bag of cheetos had already vanished.  And I was beginning to wonder whether I should have used cheese curls instead of cheese puff (the recipe didn't say).  Perhaps I should have figured, but when I heard cheetos, that what I went for.  Even though I, myself, prefer the hard, crunchy curls to the styrofoamy puffs.  Oh well, chalk it up.

So I looked at my pantry for a flavor inspiration.  My eyes went to a few precariously stacked boxes of tea.  Earl Grey.  I was going to make Earl Grey Macarons.  And put some cardamom in the shells.  So, I decided on an Earl Grey-infused ganache to go with it.  I had a half of a container of heavy cream left.  So, I infused the rest of the cream with the tea.  And I popped a few white chocolate chips (my nemesis) into my mouth while I waited.  I weighed out what I thought would be the right amount.  And then I popped the remaining chips in my mouth.  Ummmmm....can you guess where this is going?  I whisked my reserved white chocolate into my hot, infused cream - only to find out that I was short on chocolate.  Well, duh.  I was using an old ganache recipe that I doubled the cream for.  But FORGOT to double the chocolate for.  Doh!  And I'd already eaten too much of the "extra" chocolate to make up the difference.  So I whisked in what was left of the chocolate, stuck it in the fridge, and hoped for the best.  My best wasn't good enough.  It wasn't enough chocolate to set up to the point where it wouldn't just cascade over the edges when I set it on the shell.

Speaking of the shell, I added a bit of earl grey and a bit of cardamom to the almond flour and sugar.  I beat my eggs and other sugar to stiff peaks.  I folded them together.  I realized belatedly that my 1/2-inch pastry tip was missing - so I piped haphazardly from the cut corner of a baggie onto my parchment-lined baking sheet...which, by the way, I was far too lazy and concerned with lead (graphite?) poisoning to draw circlular patterns onto.  Okay, I did draww on a few and flipped it over, but that was far too much work, so I just free-handed it for most of them.

I sprinkled a few with more earl grey, stuck them in the oven and impatiently awaited the arrival of those gorgeous little shells.  SURPRISE!  Not so gorgeous, but still - THEY HAD FEET!  The most beautiful little feet in the world.  I was ridiculously proud of those feet.  However, they also had nipples.  Pert ones.  Squished ones.  Pointy ones.  Man!  But Susan told me that all I needed to do was push those little nipples down with a damp fingertip after piping, so I figured next time, I'd have perfect shells.

Fast forward a day.  I decided that my perfect shells were going to strawberry.  Strawberry macarons with (runny) Earl Grey ganache sounded pretty fabulous to me.  I was feeling cocky confident.  But I didn't really want to use food coloring, so I figured that since grinding freeze-dried fruit to a powder had worked so well to color my meringues last week that it would probably work just as well to color my macaron shells.  Oh the visions in my head!

So I added freeze-dried strawberries to the food processor with the confectioners' sugar and almond flour and whizzed them all up into a beautiful, pink powder.   Aw yeah, these babies were gonna be fabulous!

Next up, time to pipe.  I still skipped making circles on my paper, but I did find my piping tip.  So, pretty pink mounds dotted my parchment paper.  Nipples were wiped away with one damp finger.  But...and this should have been a sign...those little mounds never really dried out on the outside after sitting for 15 or 20 minutes like the first batch did.  I slid them into the oven anyway.  Afterall, they were well on their road to being perfect.

Until I opened it 12 to 14 minutes later to find not only nipple-less, but also foot-less little cookies.  Not smooth and puffed up proudly, but rather cracked and caving in on themselves as if burdened by my expectations of grandeur.

I don't know if the addition of the fruit was at fault...could it have added too much moisture?  I did everything else the same as my good shells.  I wonder if I'd combined the fruit powder with the egg whites instead of the almond flour if it would have made any difference?  I should have just used some stupid food coloring.  Or left it plain.  I'm not gonna be so "confident" next go-round.

Let me just tell you (if you don't already know), making macarons is flippin' expensive!  Almond flour is pricey!  Heavy cream is pricey!  White chocolate?  Oh yeah, it's pricey.  I was out of ingredients and out of money for this go-round.  No more macaron tries for me this week.  I had to admit defeat.

Now, I know I had the right idea.  I'm pretty fearless in the kitchen.  I know the basics...culinary school and a culinary apprenticeship saw to that.  But I've always leaned more towards the cooking side.  I did not major in pastry.  I'm a regular bread baker.  Yeast is my friend, but that elusive macaron remains a distant acquaintance. (Apparently I think yeast should be harder to master than a macaron.)

I'm not giving up for good.  I'll try again...and soon.  I'm reading a book right now for the current round of Cook the Books that has more macarons in it that a Parisian pastry shop, so I'm already set on heading back into the kitchen, armed with a new bag of almond flour sometime in the next 30 days.  Just you wait.

Beurre Blanc ...inspired by Julie & Julia {food 'n flix}

So I'm pretty sure that there's not many people... "food people"... out there who haven't seen Julie & Julia.  I watched it pretty much immediately when it came out.  I bought it when it was released on DVD.  And every once in a while, I sit down to watch it.  Or at least parts of it.  My favorite parts happen to be the Julia parts.

Crazy how a tiny little woman like Meryl Streep can nail a tall, boisterous woman like Julia Child so perfectly.  The little glimpse into Julia's life is endearing in every way.  I love how much she loves life.  Paris.  Butter.  Cooking.  Brie.  Eating.  She loves it all!  It's infectious.  If I didn't already feel the same way, I'd be a food-lovin' convert.

The Julie part.  Meh.  I mean, I like Amy Adams...but I just don't see her as Julie Powell.  She so sweet and mousy.  Julie is known for being foul-mouthed and... well... less nice?  Less meek?  Something.  I mean, Julie is who she is.  But Adams is not who she is.  Feel me?  Anyhoo.

I have to identify with the food blogger aspect.  The urgency to not leave people...readers (if there is actually anybody out there) hanging.  The need to complete what she started with her Julia project.  The glory that is a perfectly golden roast chicken.  And maybe my favorite Julie-scene, bringing the best-ever chocolate cake to the table and diving in with an appreciative husband.  With reckless abandon.

So.  Picking a recipe inspired by this flick was pretty simple.  I mean...hard...but simple.  Let me set the scene.  Julia's sister Dorothy had just come to visit Julia and Paul in Paris.  After picking her up from the station, they go to a restaurant.  They're eating Brie (while ooohing and aaahhing about how it's the BEST cheese ever) and drinking red wine.  Julia and Dort are chatting excitedly like sisters who were close and hadn't seen each other in a while...

Julia (excitedly): I got the chef at Chez la Mère Michel to give me the recipe for beurre blanc.

Dorothy (in a cute, whimsical Dort sort of way): Beurre blanc. What's beurre blanc?

Julia: Butter in a white wine vinegar reduction.

Dorothy (chewing and nodding): Mmmm...

Julia: You whisk them together... and the acid in the vinegar works on the milk solids in the butter so that the butter, instead of melting, becomes this creamy, light, frothy... with, with a kind of, a fantastic... subtle kind of...

Paul (suave): Tangy.  It has a tanginess.

Julia (knowing wonder): Tanginess...

Paul: Yes.

Julia (in splendor): Well, that's... that's who I married.  Anyway, you serve it on fish and it is splendid.  I'm going to make it for you.

And well, if you know me at all, you know my affection for French sauces.  Especially French butter sauces. Ummm... Hollandaise.  Béarnaise.  And much like those sauces, I don't make Beurre Blanc often.  I actually think I've only made it two or three times in the last 5 years.  It's another one of those that I made alot while working in restaurants.  But not much at home.  I'm gonna go ahead and say that's a good thing.  It's so much better to bathe in the creamy, rich, tangy glory sporadically.

Keeps it special, ya know?

Beurre Blanc

by Heather Schmitt-González

Prep Time: 5 minutes

Cook Time: 5-10 minutes

Keywords: sauce butter wine vinegar French

Ingredients (~1 cup)

reduction

• 2½ Tbs. white wine vinegar
• 2½ Tbs. dry white wine (or vermouth or lemon juice)
• 1 Tbs. minced shallots
• ½ tsp. salt
• ⅛ tsp. pepper (black or white)
• 1 oz. (2 Tbs.) butter

to finish

• 8 oz. (16 Tbs.) unsalted butter, chilled, cut into 16 pieces
• salt
• pepper
• lemon juice

Instructions

Place all of the ingredients for the reduction into a 6-cup medium-weight saucepan and bring to a boil until reduced to a syrupy consistency (~1½ tablespoons should remain). This won't take long once it starts boiling.

Remove the saucepan from the heat and immediately beat in 2 pieces of the chilled butter. As it softens and creams in the liquid, beat in another piece. Set the saucepan over very low heat and, beating constantly, continue to add the butter, one piece at a time, once the previous piece is almost entirely absorbed.

The sauce should be thick and ivory-colored, about the consistency of a light hollandaise.

Immediately remove from heat as soon as all the butter has been added. Taste and adjust seasonings with salt, pepper, and/or lemon juice.

note:

I love Beurre Blanc best served over fish (like the White Bass seared in Brown Butter with Haricot Verts pictured), but it's also wonderful over veggies, veal, or chicken.

ever-so-slightly adapted from Mastering the Art of French Cooking

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Food 'n Flix is being hosted by Leslie from La Cocina de Leslie this month with her pick, Julie & Julia. Today is the deadline...I'm sliding in just under the wire this month.

 Next month we'll be watching (the original) Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (hosted at WellDined). Plus, we're getting an early start on January's flick, The Hunger Games which I will be hosting in conjunction with Cook the Books (that's why it's an exciting 2-month special edition!). So, if you're a fan...or want to be...pick up the book and start reading and then watch the film and do a post inspired by both. I hope you join us!

p.s...there are still a few food 'n flix hosting slots open in the second half of 2013.  If you're interested, shoot me an email with your movie choice and the month you prefer (click HERE to see open spots and previously viewed flicks), and I will add you to the schedule.

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related posts...

50 Women Game-Changers in Food #1: Julia Child- Hollandaise

Sauce Bearnaise + my FAVORITE meal

50 Women Game-Changers in Food #50: Julie Powell - "Home at Last" Chicken

Salmon en Papillote #CookforJulia

Julia Childs French Bread: Batards

Cake Batter Martini . . . inspired by Because I Said So {food n flix}

Noodle Soup . . . inspired by The Ramen Girl {food n flix}

Sauce Béarnaise w/ Filet & Asaparagus - MY FAVORITE MEAL {#CookforJulia}

 If you know me, you might be surprised to know that if I had to make the choice of "my last meal", it wouldn't be Mexican food or something gloriously garlicky.  It wouldn't be a bowl of Tortilla Soup or a loaf of freshly baked bread with a wedge of cheese.  Although those would all fall into my "second choices" category.  I would actually choose a Filet Mignon (cooked anywhere from rare to medium) smothered in Béarnaise Sauce.  Preferably with a side of hand-cut fries also smothered in Béarnaise.  Okay, the pictures have asparagus in them...and not fries.  What can I say?  I was feeling virtuous.  But truly, that would be my last meal request.  With a bottle of wine to wash it down.

Perhaps it's due to the fact that I don't eat that meal very often.  Okay, hardly ever.  The other things that I'm known for loving are things that I eat on a regular basis.  So the "special" factor probably plays in.  Yes, that has to be it.

But..."WHY?  What's the reasoning behind your choice?" ...you ask?

Mainly because it's so freakin' delicious.

The reason I would choose that meal isn't because of one particularly fond memory.  Though, I do remember it fondly.  It's just because it's so darn good.  The first time I made Béarnaise (and Hollandaise and it's other derivatives) was during my apprenticeship.  I was stationed on grill for a period of nine months (give or take).  And I had to make a couple batches a night to go with one of the steaks.  The first batch was always fun.  I looked forward to watching those yolks "take in" all of that softened butter.  It's amazing how much butter yolks can hold.  I'm sure I broke it a few times in the beginning, but once I got the hang of it, it was old hat.  The time it got hard was when that particular steak sold really well during service and I had to make another batch while still putting up orders.  But can I just tell you what a great work-out a whisk can be!

At the end of the nights when I was working with a buddy on sauté who was just as much a lover of the sauce as I, I'd put a little portion of Béarnaise in a 1/16th pan and set it between us while we started to break down.  Or earlier if it was particularly slow.  There was almost always little end bits of Prime Rib hanging around.  We made sure of it.  So into the Béarnaise they'd go.  And fries?  Oh yeah, those were always around, no doubt.  So those would get swiped through the sauce, as well.  Little did I realize just how fortunate I was back then.  Béarnaise wouldn't always be around for dipping at my leisure (okay, it would if I made it...but...).  And mostly, I wouldn't always be as active (and young) as I was then.  I mean, if I shoveled it in now like I did then, I'd be bedridden.

But basically, when I switched stations from grill to whatever came next, Béarnaise became a thing of the past.  Sure, I'd make it now and again, but never as frequently as I did during those 9 months.  But when I want a real treat, I will make a Filet and whip up a batch.  And each and every bite is like heaven.

In this, my next to last #CookforJulia post, I decided it was high-time to indulge.  I still make Hollandaise a little more often than I do Béarnaise (for Eggs Benedict), and when I discovered Julia's method for making it the blender, I was hooked.  Sure, now's the time I could probably use that whisk-work-out most, but the ease of making it in the blender completely and totally eliminates the need to break a sweat.  I decided to make the Béarnaise this way as well...and I'm scared to admit that sheer willpower will now be the only thing keeping me from making it more often.  I want it to stay "special", ya know?  Julia doesn't call for straining the reduction, but I like to do so to remove the shallots and peppercorns.  Plus, I like to finish mine with a smattering of fresh tarragon and chervil folded into the sauce (yes, that's the way I learned).  But Julia's blender-method will most likely be my method of choice 'til the end of time.

Watch for my final #CookforJulia post on Wednesday the 15th...this will mark what would have been Julia's 100th birthday.  I'm so happy that I took the time to cook from all of my Julia books over these last nine or ten days.  She truly was a remarkable woman...a remarkable force.

Sauce Béarnaise

by Heather Schmitt-González

Prep Time: 10-15 minutes

Keywords: condiment entree side butter herbs eggs French

Ingredients (~1 cup)

for the reduction:

• ¼ c. Tarragon vinegar (or white wine vinegar)
• ¼ c. dry white wine (or vermouth)
• 1 heaping Tbs. minced shallots
• ½ tsp. dried tarragon
• pinch salt
• 6 black peppercorns, crushed with side of your knife

to finish the sauce:

• 3 egg yolks
• 4-6 oz. (1-1½ sticks) unsalted butter
• salt
• palmful chopped fresh tarragon and chervil

Instructions

make the reduction:

Combine all of the ingredients for the reduction in a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Boil until liquid is reduced to about 2 tablespoons. Watch it carefully once it starts to boil - the liquid can evaporate quickly.

Strain into the jar of a blender.

make the Béarnaise:

Put the butter in a small pan and heat until melted and bubbling.

Add the egg yolks to the blender with the reduction, then cover and blend at high speed for 30 seconds.

Remove the lid of the blender (or the center piece in the lid) and start pouring in the hot butter in "droptlets" while the blender is still on high speed. Continue pouring slowly, giving the yolks time to absorb the butter. Once the sauce starts to thicken, you can start to pour a little quicker. You should now have a thick, rich sauce.

Throw in the freshly chopped tarragon and chervil. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt, if necessary.

Enjoy over steak, french fries, veggies, broiled fish or chicken, or egg dishes. Try not to drink it from a spoon (much easier said than done).

notes:

If your reduction gets away from you and goes dry, simply add some more of the vinegar and wine (in equal parts) and let it reduce again (assuming it hasn't burnt - if so, start over).

This is my absolute favorite sauce in the world - especially when served over Filet Mignon. Or used to dip french fries in. Although I'd been making it for years by hand, once I discovered Julia Child's method for making it (and Hollandaise) in the blender, I never looked back. It's super simple and works every time.

inspired by and adapted from The French Chef Cookbook

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Ratatouille (...summer in a dish) #CookforJulia

Yesterday, the kids had Julia Child to thank for what quickly (and somewhat surprisingly) became their new favorite dish of the summer.  I, on the other hand, think that while Julia deserves ample props, a little grey rat named Remy probably deserves my thanks.

Really - and here's why...

A casserole dish heavy with layers of vibrant summer vegetables is a beautiful sight.  Especially if it smells as wildly mouthwatering as ratatouille does once all of those veggies start mingling with a little olive oil and herb.  It's almost enough to drive a person mad with desire.  Well, drive ME mad with desire, anyway.

But when it comes to the kids, they're not as easily seduced.  Yes, they loved stopping by the road-side stand to choose fat tomatoes, zucchini, and summer squash.  And as the layers started falling from the knife, they were intrigued.  And  sure, once everything began to come together, they couldn't resist peeking in the pot to see if those vegetables were really producing that awesome smell.

But I'm pretty sure what sold it was when they asked me what I was making.  And I told them Ratatouille.  Well.  Any child worth their spit perks up when they hear the word Ratatouille.  That piqued their interest.  HOOK.

Fast forward to supper time.  I received no objections.  Quite the opposite, actually.  I received uplifted plates waiting for a helping of ratatouille.  The younger kids both said they'd like a small serving to start with.  So I dished up small servings.  LINE.

Less than thirty seconds later, both plates were empty.  Mmmmmmmm's and I LOOOOVE ratatouille's were lilting through the air.  And requests for MORE RATATOUILLE were in my ear.  Aaaahhhh.  The beauty of it.

They both said it was the best dish they've had in a long time. And it was all vegetables. Oh yeah, that is what I like to hear. SINKER.

 So, thank you Julia. And thank you little grey rat named Remy - because while you were never mentioned, I know my kids and I know that at the mere mention of the word Ratatouille they thought of you. And then fell in love with ratatouille.

Ratatouille

by Heather Schmitt-González

Prep Time: 30 minutes

Cook Time: 1-1½ hours

Keywords: simmer saute entree side vegan vegetables herbs French summer

Ingredients (serves 4-6)

• 1 lb. eggplant
• ½ lb. zucchini
• ½ lb. yellow summer squash
• ~7 Tbs. olive oil, divided
• ½ lb. yellow onion, thinly sliced
• 1 large (to equal ~1 cup) green bell peppers, sliced
• 2 fat cloves garlic, peeled & smashed
• ~1 lb. firm, ripe, red tomatoes , peeled seeded & juiced
• 3 Tbs. minced parsley
• salt
• ground black pepper

Instructions

Cut the eggplant, zucchini, and summer squash into slices of even thickness - I went thicker than ¼-inch but thinner than ½-inch. Place them all in a large bowl and sprinkle with about 1½ teaspoons of salt and toss. Let stand for 30 minutes, then drain. Lay out a double-thickness of paper towels and lay out the slices in a single layer. Blot the tops with another double-layer. You want to absorb as much water as you can, so press gently.

Heat about 4 tablespoons of olive oil in a 10 to 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat. Add eggplant one layer at a time and sauté for approximately 1 minute per side, until lightly browned. Repeat with all of eggplant, zucchini, and summer squash. As they are done, remove them to a dish.

Lower heat to medium and add another 2-3 tablespoons olive oil. When oil is hot, add onions and green peppers and cook slowly until tender, ~10 minutes. Stir in garlic and season with salt and pepper to taste.

Slice tomato pulp into 3/8-inch strips.. Lay them over the onions and peppers. Season with salt and pepper. Cover the skillet and cook over low heat for 5 minutes, or until tomatoes have begun to render their juices. Uncover, baste tomatoes with some of the juices and then raise heat and boil for several moments to let juice almost entirely evaporate.

Place ⅓ of the tomato mixture in the bottom of a 2½-quart fireproof casserole dish that is at least 2½-inches deep and sprinkle with ⅓ of the parsley. Arrange half of the eggplant, zucchini, and summer squash over that. Repeat layers, ending with parsley.

Cover casserole and simmer over low heat for 10 minutes. Uncover, raise heat a bit, and continue to cook uncovered, basting occasionally with rendered juices for ~15 minutes longer.

Serve hot, warm, or cold. Not only does ratatouille make a perfect accompaniment for a simple meat, fish, or chicken dish, it makes a fabulous meal all on its own with a loaf of crusty bread for sopping up the juices and a bottle of wine to wash it all down.

adapted from Mastering the Art of French Cooking

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That would be recipe number three from book number three towards my personal goal of cooking one recipe from all seven of my Julia cookbooks during #CookforJulia.  And another favorite.

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