Ispahan jam makes it all taste so good

Greek yogurt topped with Ispahan Jam and smothered in fruit

Cindy's recent ode to her Christine Ferber jam reminded me that I had promised to tell you about the Ispahan jam I bought on my last trip to Paris in July. If you had read about the first time I tried the famous Ispahan dessert, you would know that I was more than a bit disappointed. Despite that, something about the combination of rose, raspberry and lychee fruit stuck with me. So not long after that I decided to try Pierre Hermé's version.
And oh. It was good.
Since then I get a little excited when faced with any dish containing rosewater. (Moro's rosewater and cardamom ice cream is the stuff of my dreams).

A close friend of mine and I agree on most things when it comes to food, but my love for rosewater is the one thing where our palates seem to differ. In fact, just the mere mention of it and she breaks out into some rather amusing facial contortions. I'm starting to think it's like cilantro, you either love it or you hate it. And have you ever noticed that those who don't like cilantro seem really passionate about hating it? Is there no one who is just kind of on the fence about it?

So anyway, in July when I was in Paris I decided to buy a jar of Christine Ferber's (made for Hermé) ispahan jam to take back home with me. People, I could kick myself for never having tried it before. The jam has a rich, vibrant colour, and its 3 main flavours meld perfectly, none of them overpowering the other. You rosewater haters are probably scrunching up your noses right now, but you are just going to have to pipe down for a minute.

It has a somewhat runny (as far as jam goes) consistency which makes it perfect for adding to yogurt which is how I've been indulging in it lately. And now that it's berry season I can't resist smothering the whole thing with strawberries, raspberries, blackberries and yes, even bananas.

You might think I was a bit heavy handed with the fruit but it just tastes so darn good. Thank goodness Paris is only a short train ride away because I'm getting awfully close to the bottom of that jar.


****
You can get this jam at the Pierre Hermé shops in Paris.

Addicted to colour..

-yogurt with apricots and strawberries and toasted marcona almonds
-rosemary roasted carrots with arugula, feta, sundried tomatoes


I guess there are worse addictions, huh...

Zuni's Orange-Currant Scones

Zuni Orange-Currant Scones. Not shy on the butter.

When I returned from my recent trip to Canada I expected that I would bring some things back with me. But in the end, the treasures that ended up in my suitcase weren't entirely what I had anticipated. I thought I would have a suitcase full of Triscuits and Smartfood, two things that I covet and miss on a regular basis.
But these suddenly were bumped in priority and were replaced with a strong desire for a big tub of all natural smooth peanut butter, and Bandaid brand bandaids.

Because, first of all, it's not easy to find all-natural peanut butter here, and when you do it's rather pricey. And secondly, will someone please tell me why French bandaids don't stick? Is my North American skin of such a different constitution that the chemical properties of the French bandaid glue don't adhere to me?

Then came the cookbooks. Our bags were already heavy so I knew I had to be selective. Without question, Zuni made the cut. I dug that poor old book out of a dusty box and now it sits, happily, in the full sunshine of my little French kitchen.

So last weekend, as I was pondering Zisou and the speed at which his head travels, I decided I would start the day with Zuni's Orange-Currant Scones.
The fact that the recipe instructions had a very low word count intrigued me right from the start.

To make a short story even shorter, I give you this raving review:
1. easy to make.
2. oh so very good.

With a scant 1/2 cup of sugar, they have the perfect hint of sweetness. The inside is moist (hello, half a pound of butter) and the top has a perfect crumbly texture.
You could change the Orange-Currant combo to anything really. And because they are low on the sweet factor, you could easily make them savoury, by leaving out the sugar and using say, Lemon Zest and Rosemary for example. Or put some cheese on the top before you bake them.
Oy.

And here's where I'm beginning to think that perhaps the last 11 months I've been in France is starting to influence me.
The recipe says you should get 12 scones out of the batter. I tried it with the first half of the batter, and the scones were oversized. No, oversized is what Michele after 6 months in Paris would call them. At 11 months in Paris, I may even go so far as to use the word grotesquely oversized. So I Frenchified them, and made them much, much smaller. Smaller=cuter=more scones.

Without further ado, I present to you:

Orange-Currant Scones from the Zuni Café Cookbook

3 cups all purpose flour (13.5 oz)
Scant 1/2 cup sugar
4 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp salt
1/2 pound cold butter (approx 226g or 2 sticks for North Americans)
1/2 cup dried currants
1 tb orange zest
1 large egg
1/2 cup whole milk (I used 1% and still loved them)

Oven: 350F.
Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Two if you have room in your oven for two.
Combine the dry ingredients in a large bowl and mix well.
Cut in butter until it is the size of small peas then add the currants and orange zest.

Whisk the egg and milk together. Add to the dry ingredients and mix and fold until the dough masses and the flour is absorbed.

Divide the dough in two and shape each into a ball. Pat each one into a 6 to 7 inch circle on a lightly floured surface. Roll to approximately 1 inch thick and cut into whatever size you want. The cookbook suggests 6 per circle, (cut like you would a round pizza). This method will produce very large scones. I cut mine into little squares and I probably got 3 times as many scones as the recipe indicates.

Bake until firm to the touch and slightly golden, about 25 to 30 minutes.

Grilled Apples with Crème Anglaise

There are some things in life that you never forget. Your first kiss. Your first pet. Your first apartment. The first time you went to a party and drank too much Blue Curacao and came home late only to find your parents were still up and you hoped and prayed that they wouldn't notice. But your red eyes and your blue smurf tongue gave you away, and you were grounded.

Ah, memories.

There's the time you made your first Thanksgiving dinner. You cooked that bird with the giblet bag still inside but your dad helped you sneak it out before anyone noticed. It was a job well done, and you were so proud of yourself.

And then there's the first time you made your own crème anglaise.
That memory is so fresh in your mind it seems like it was yesterday.
Oh right, it was yesterday.
Why had I never made this before? Blame it on my previous lack of a sweet tooth.
But who knew crème anglaise was so easy to make? And tasty, don't forget tasty.



Grilled Apples with Crème Anglaise

Once I finished my first batch I couldn't stop myself. Like a woman possessed I experimented with various flavour combinations. I tried it plain with just vanilla, then adding a splash of Cognac and finally another batch with a splash of Port. I imagined infusing the cream (prior to adding it to the eggs) with rosemary, lavender, cinnamon, orange zest, and even my new Mariage Frères tea. There is going to be a alot of crème anglaise in my future.

My efforts were inspired by the recipe for Grilled Apples with Bourbon Crème Anglaise by Williams-Sonoma. It was a simple and very satisfying dessert that I will definitely make again.

Notes

The Crème Anglaise recipes I reviewed always contained eggs, sugar, vanilla and milk or cream.
I tried both the Williams-Sonoma recipe for crème anglaise as listed above, which uses both milk and cream, as well as Martha's recipe, which uses just milk. I preferred the cream version, as it had a thicker and richer consistency than Martha's. Sorry Martha.

After comparing these two recipes, I realized that Martha's is much easier to make so if you want to, you could just substitute cream for the milk in her recipe. And do whatever you want to flavour it.

I used a real vanilla bean instead of vanilla extract.

I also received a good tip from a friend of mine in Paris who says that the longer you cook the mixture, the thicker it will get. It also thickens further once it is chilled. You gotta love friends with good tips.

Shakin' it.. Or making smoothies..

Fig and honey shake

Since moving to Paris, it has taken some serious effort on my part to ensure that my waistline does not suffer. They say that French women don't get fat, but you throw a Canadian girl in Paris, and she might do just that if she's not careful.

I am well aware that my early months of blogging are relatively sweet free. I have always proclaimed myself a salt-tooth, if there is such a thing. I would favour a second helping of my dinner rather than save room for dessert. This wasn't a difficult habit to get into, because my brother and my parents seemed to be of the same mind. Dessert only seemed to show up when guests were coming, or if there was a special occassion. On Father's Day my mom and I would make a trip to the local donut shop (yes, my fellow Canadians, of course it was Tim Horton's) for a sweet treat on my Dad's special day. On my birthday, I would get a chocolate croissant for breakfast. Aside from that, savoury foods dominated our cravings.

Now I find myself in Paris, where sweet pastries and chocolate tease me from every corner. And you might have noticed recently, that I'm beginning to succumb to the overwhelming temptations. My sweet tooth is beginning to peak out from the shadows, and make itself known. My suspicions were confirmed when I recently received an email from my mom, where after reading one of my chocolatey posts she wrote: "Stop eating all that sugar!".

Yes, mother, but it's so, so hard not to. I'm in Paris, and resistance truly is futile. And in my defense, I did go and buy myself a fancy pants electric toothbrush so that you wouldn't have to worry about what the sugar might do to my teeth.

But after a few weeks of sugar overload and a visit to an exhibition devoted completely to chocolate (was I dreaming?) it is time for me to get back to basics. Either that, or I'll have to start undoing the top button on my pants every time I sit down. Thanks to the purchase of a new Braun handblender (oh small appliances how I love thee) I can inject some sugar-free goodness into my life again. I'm sure my waistline will thank me. And my mom will sure be happy too.


Banana Cardamom Smoothie


These recipes are adapted from a cookbook called simply "Snacks and Drinks" by Michele Cranston that I picked up in Germany because it had pretty pictures and great ideas.

Fig and Honey Smoothie (pictured at top)
Wash and chop 2 ripe figs, add 1 teaspoon of honey (or to taste) and 125g of natural yogurt. Blend. You can add ice before blending if you want, and more or less yogurt depending how thick you like yours to be.
Sprinkle toasted slivered (and then crumbled) almonds on top if desired, or whatever nuts you might prefer.
Note: I used rosemary honey, since figs and rosemary are a lovely combination and I thoroughly enjoyed the result.

Banana Cardamom Smoothie
Blend together the seeds from a cardamom pod, 1 banana, 125 g of natural yogurt.
(add ice before blending if you want).

Note: if you crush the cardamom seeds the flavour may overwhelm the drink. But, in not crushing them you sometimes get a whole seed in your mouth. As long as you just swallow it, and avoid the temptation to bite into it, you'll be fine. I'm only saying this for people who find cardamom at times overwhelming. It's for your protection only.


Cardamom pods

Prunes. Enough said.

Lamb Tagine with Prunes

This has been a week of interesting firsts for me. On Monday I tasted my first macaron, and on Tuesday I bought my first bag of prunes ever. You may not think this is entirely exciting, and I'm sure my boyfriend would agree with you. I thank Mr. David Lebovitz for the latter of these two firsts, since he declared that this Thursday, October 27th, was officially Prune Blogging Thursday. Bold move on his part, don't you think?

I admit, I thought it was going to take some work to find an appealing recipe, but I quickly discovered that David isn't the only one who likes prunes. My grandmother likes them too.
No, but truthfully, there are a surprising number of prune-friendly recipes to be found.

Somehow (and I have long ago stopped trying to understand it) Martha exerted her domestic power over me and willed me to use one of her recipes. It's some sort of mind control thing that I am at times powerless to resist. But I couldn't help but think that if anyone knows prunes, it would have to be Martha. And so it was that I had Martha's Lamb Tagine with Prunes for dinner on Tuesday night.

I received a double dose of excitement when making this recipe, as it called for a tablespoon of Ras el Hanout. Had there been a cartoon bubble over my head when I read this, it would have contained a single question mark. I now know that Ras el Hanout is a Moroccan mix of spices, which seem to vary depending on who makes it. It was surprisingly easy to find -- mine contained a mixture of ground pepper, garlic, ginger, mustard, cinnamon, nutmeg, chili peppers, and cloves.

The tagine turned out well, and I was enthused about having tried not one, but two ingredients that had previously been absent from my pantry. That is until I looked at what was left of my dinner and realized that my plate was empty but for the many prunes that I had somehow managed to avoid with each bite of my tagine. The tagine was good, but the sweetness of the prunes overwhelmed it a bit in my opinion. By the second day, they had mellowed out quite a bit and had absorbed alot of flavour from the spices in the tagine.

So, my grand conclusion is this:
Day-one-tagine: good, but I had some prune-avoidance issues.
Day-two-tagine: pretty darn tasty, prunes and all.

The chickpeas were an element I would not do without. And please note, due to lack of availability, I omitted the butternut squash from the recipe, which I'm sure would have made a lovely addition. I served mine with couscous, Martha wrapped hers in Lavash bread.

You can find Martha's recipe for Lamb Tagine with Prunes here.

(please note the recipe fails to mention how much water to add. I added enough to cover the lamb by about an inch or so. You may want to add more if you want it saucier.)

So David, can I come over and try your macarons now?

More fruit and melty cheese...

Beurre Hardy Pear (French butter pear)

That time of year is arriving that reminds me most of home. My niece and nephews are back in school, and the busy apple season is getting into full gear at my brother's orchard. I remember long days spent helping out in their bakery, when I would return home, exhausted, with the sweet smell of sugar and vanilla oozing out of every pore of my body.
Now, far away from home, I can't help but notice the bounty of apples and pears that are making their arrival at the markets. What I would give to wake up just one early morning and find myself at the orchard, walking across the dewy grass to pick a few apples, with the dogs running about, the chickens clucking, and my niece and nephews getting into mischief as usual.
Since the orchard came into our lives, I have a new appreciation for the simple beauty of an apple or a pear. Crisp, and sweet, dangling from the trees, there isn't a more beautiful offering.

With my feet moving at a slow and homesick pace at the market, the desire for comfort food motivated my every purchase.

But then again, I'm in Paris.
So it had to have a little bit of oomph.



Behold the Pear and Brie Croque Monsieur.
A cure for homesickness? Well maybe not. But it sure took my mind off of my troubles for a bit. Part of the fun was in finding a new pear at the market that I had never heard of before. It is called a Beurre Hardy, which is an heirloom pear that is otherwise known as a French Butter Pear. Even though at first glance its skin seems rather dull with its mossy-green colour, it is quite pretty, and the ones I purchased had a close to perfect robust pear shape. Ok, maybe I'm being a bit of a geek about it but remember, I'm homesick. In any case, it was delicious. Juicy and sweet, I gobbled one up as soon as I got home.
As for the brie? Well, just look at that picture at the bottom, where it is just bulging out from under its rind. Enough said.

The Pear and Brie Croque Monsieur, inspired entirely by Williams Sonoma.
(which is really just a pear and brie grilled sandwich if you don't have the proper equipment.. but it sure sounds better the Williams-Sonoma way)

Take a pear, rinse it, slice it up. (I left the skin on).
Saute the slices in a pan in a bit of butter until slightly softened.
Spread butter on one side of 2 slices of bread.
On the un-buttered side, place the sauteed pears and some slices of brie.
Top with the second slice of bread, buttered side up.
Fry in a grill pan or fry pan until browned to your liking, and the cheese is melted.
Don't stop to take pictures, just eat it.


Brie de Meaux from La Ferme de la Brie
(at Richard Lenoir Market in the 11th)

Fourteen figs are better than one..

Fig and Goat cheese toasts with rosemary honey

When you take a trip to a market with a friend, you find yourself a bit distracted. Purchases are made in between bursts of conversation, and waiting for service at a busy produce stand doesn't phase you at all. Even if the service does at times seem suspiciously slow. Because you've got things to talk about and time to spare. By the time you get home, you find yourself standing in your kitchen, with bags and bags of stuff, and you can't for the life of you remember what you actually bought. As you start to unload, it kind of feels like Christmas.
"Aahh. I forgot about those. " Or:
"Wow, did I really buy this many mushrooms?"

So you stand back from the counter and survey your bounty. There's been alot of talk about figs lately, so you're not surprised when you realize that you've bought ALOT of them. That bundle that you bought for a mere 2 euros doesn't look like it wants to wait any longer. It wants to be eaten. Now.



So you rummage through your new groceries and pull out that pain aux céréales that came highly recommended. You slice it up and slather one side with butter. You place a few slices on a hot grill pan until they are toasty and crisp. While you are waiting, you eat the crusty end that you cut off and think wow, now that is some good bread.
You spread a generous layer of that soft goat's cheese (chèvre frais) you bought, and top it with some slices of those luscious figs. They are so ripe they refuse to let you pick them up with your fingers. You have to slide a knife underneath the slices to prevent them from falling apart.

But something is missing, it's not quite finished yet. Then you remember that rosemary honey (Miel de Romarin) you bought at L'Épicerie a couple of weeks ago on one of your many walks over the river to Île St-Louis. You drizzle it over the top of the figs and with a satisfied grin on your face, you know that your work is now done.


Miel de Romarin from L'Épicerie

You sit yourself down at the table and enjoy every bite. Then you realize you only used one fig to make this lunch of yours, you still have about 13 more to go. The fun has only just started.


L'Épicerie
51, rue St-Louis-en-L'Île
75004
an excellent shop with a wide range of honeys and mustards.

Sweet sweet honey.. SHF #10

Grilled Honey Glazed Stone Fruit with Honeyed Mascarpone


I feel as though summer has truly arrived when stone fruits begin to appear at the local markets. Ripe and fragrant peaches, plums and nectarines, just begging you to lean forward, take a bite and let the juice run freely out. There is something very satisfying about the drippy mess it leaves behind.

I could not resist the stone fruits that I noticed at the market earlier in the week. I left gleefully with a paper bag filled with white peaches, yellow plums, and oversized nectarines, one of which was gobbled up as soon as I got home. There has been many a time in the last few days where I could be found leaning over the sink, devouring yet another stone fruit.

From the moment I heard that this month’s Sugar High Friday’s theme was honey, I knew I couldn’t miss it. I’ve been known to be a bit uptight about my sugar intake, but honey is an entirely different story. It is natural in its sweetness, it offers vitamins and minerals, and even has antiseptic and antibacterial properties. Is there anything better? It finds its way into my meals on a daily basis, through banana smoothies, homemade granola or yogurt. And with my new bounty of fruit on hand, I couldn’t resist putting the two together.

I really enjoyed this light and simple dessert. The fruit takes the stage and it didn’t leave me feeling heavy and tired, which is the last thing I want in this hot and humid weather.
Thanks to Nic at BakingSheet for hosting SHF this month.




Grilled Honey Glazed Stone Fruit with Honeyed Mascarpone

Take some stone fruits. Cut them in half and remove the pit. (I used white peaches and yellow plums)
In a pan over medium heat, melt 1 teaspoon of butter. Add 1 heaping teaspoon of honey. (if you are doing alot of fruit, just double or triple the recipe as needed.)
When it starts to bubble, add your stone fruit and toss to coat, ensuring the cut side of the fruit is well coated.
Remove the fruit and place them cut side down on a heated grill or grill pan. Grill until softened and showing grill marks.
Serve cut side up, with a dollop of honeyed mascarpone cream.

Honeyed Mascarpone
Start with a few tablespoons of mascarpone (depending on how much you want to eat) and add plain yogurt, just a little at a time until you get the desired consistency. Add a teaspoon of honey or to taste.
This can also be done with cream instead of the yogurt.

Recipe Note: in future I will make extra honey glaze and drizzle it over the fruit after it is plated.

The Mystery of a Mango. Salad day #3.

Mango, avocado and shrimp salad

Mangoes and I have had a rather rocky relationship. I have always loved the idea of them. They are big, and beautiful and seem to promise so much. But I would buy them, only to find that they were tough and stringy and bitter inside. I had been told by a mango loving co-worker that the skin of the mango will be in shades of red and yellow when it is ripe. She seemed confused by my difficulties and clearly did not understand why this was even a struggle for me. But somehow even the red and yellow ones managed to foil me. She hadn't told me that it's possible the mango may not be quite red and yellow enough. She had also told me to smell it. But all mangos have a scent. Until you smell one that is truly ripe, how do you really know?

One summer day a few years ago, I decided it was time to give the mango another try. I could never truly give up on it, I was always so tempted by it's exotic appeal. I had selected one that had seemed more red and yellow than any of the others at the market. I felt optimistic about my choice but when I got home I wondered if this would be just another disappointment. I slowly cut into the mango with my knife, just a small incision. I could instantly feel, and hear, it resisting. My heart sank, the pleasures of the mango had eluded me again. Despite my heart break, I couldn't bear to throw it away, something prevented me. I had been raised not to be wasteful, and throwing it out contradicted everything my parents had taught me. So there it sat, on my counter, waiting until I could muster up the courage to dispose of it. If it started to show signs of rot, or mold, then I would be freed of my guilt.

After 3 days, it still sat on the counter, taunting me with constant reminders of my inability to understand the mango. And there was not a speck of mold nor rot to be found. Finally, I decided the time had come, it had to go. I picked it up with a feeling of immense regret. As I grasped it, I felt it give a little under the pressure of my grip. I had never felt that before, it was a new sensation. I brought it up to my nose, poised to throw it in the garbage, and was instantly overcome with a sweet musty smell that reminded me of all of my favourite fruits. It was intoxicating and confusing. My curiosity got the better of me, so I reached for a knife and began to slice. The blade slid through with ease, as though cutting through butter. It's juices spilled out onto the counter as I sliced through it's flesh. I was stunned by it's deep orangey gold colour. It didn't take me long to sink my teeth into it. Heaven. Now there was no going back.

Admittedly, there are still times when the mango asserts itself and punishes me for being impatient. Sometimes, I am over-confident, and inevitably, I cut into it too early. And I am forced to suffer the consequences, receiving only a small portion of the mango's bounty, while the rest of it clearly still needs more time to ripen. The mango won't give in to my impatience, and I am always the one who loses out.

There are many recipes to be found using mangoes. There are two that I have recently come across that seem ridiculously simple and that I am eager to try:
Martha's Mango Mayonnaise and her Mango-Yogurt drink

In the meantime, I incorporated the mango into my salad theme this week to satisfy my craving for this elusive fruit. I used the dressing in a recipe that I found at Epicurious.com and really enjoyed it. The original recipe includes seasoning and grilling the shrimp. Because I could only find pre-cooked shrimp, I opted not to do anything to them. They are tasty enough on their own tossed with the rest of the salad. And as you can see by the picture above, I also added avocado to the salad.

I have provided the dressing recipe below. The full recipe including the seasoning and grilling of the shrimp can be found here Mango Salad with Grilled Shrimp (Epicurious.com).
This would also make a nice salsa if the mango and avocado are chopped in smaller pieces.

Mango, Avocado and Shrimp Salad
chopped mango
chopped avocado
cooked shrimp

Dressing from Epicurious.com recipe
2 tablespoons packed dark brown sugar
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 (4-inch-long) fresh hot red chile, thinly sliced, including seeds
1 medium shallot, thinly sliced
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint

Whisk together brown sugar and lime juice in a large bowl until sugar is dissolved, then whisk in the rest. For my salad, toss the mangoes, avocado and shrimp with the dressing.