Le Fromage

Looking for a great selection of French cheeses? Especially intrigued by the idea of raw-milk cheeses? Or just looking to recover a bit of the ambiance of a French fromagerie (cheese shop) after your recent trip to France?

Whole Foods Market, a portion of whose French-cheese selection is shown in the photograph, has a lovely selection. I can admire it for a LONG time! The only difficulty is making the decision(s). You can purchase many in already-packaged portions. And some may be cut-to-order (with pre-tasting encouraged) for you.

I like using the cut-to-order method -- it's such a pleasure to reach over the counter to take the little package, all freshly-wrapped and prepared for me, from the helpful cheesemonger. If I'm headed to a picnic, or just to a picnic lunch for one, opening the paper and displaying the selected slice makes me feel as if I'm part of a lunch in the French countryside.

Yum yum. Or as the French say, miam miam!

Charcuterie Window in Paris

Here we are in Paris, in the 16th arrondissement. I was on my way, on foot, from my hotel in the 15th. A nice, morning walk, past the Eiffel Tower, over the Seine, through the Trocadero gardens (all the while admiring the gorgeous fountains).

Through more streets of this pretty section of Paris -- quite residential -- on my way to the Marmottan Museum. I had been to the museum on an earlier trip and found it to be a delightful experience. A small museum, in an historic mansion, with lots of Monet paintings for me to ooh and aah over.

In Paris, getting there is often half the fun. Especially when you enjoy shop windows as much as I do. Here is the lovely display in the front window of a charcuterie, which is sort of a combination butcher shop and delicatessen. The day was a bit cloudy, so the photo isn't very bright. But the memory of those tasty items shines brightly in this tourist's heart!

Got Bottles?

Early morning breezes ruffled the hair of the milk-man as he walked through the neighborhood. As he (were there ever any milk-women, inquiring minds want to ask?) moved from house to house, and from truck to sidewalk, the jingle of glass bottles accompanied his every step.

Jangling in two pitches, the milk bottle sounds came forth in the bass range for full bottles, and in high-alto/low soprano for the empties! The sound of house doors opening, then closing, in harmony with their own sets of bottle jingles, followed quickly upon the milk-man's departure.

Was it really so very long ago that these sounds were heard throughout the land? In fact, the answer is an emphatic "No!" Even now, in some neighborhoods, the milk truck arrives at the door with fresh dairy products. Sadly, these neighborhoods are no longer common.

Recently though, there has been a resurgence in the availability of the distinctive flavor of milk in glass bottles. After decades of residence in wax cartons and plastic jugs, milk has once again appeared on store shelves in bright-and-sparkly glass bottles.

In southern California, the Wild Oats, Henry's and Whole Foods grocery chains now offer glass-bottled milk, from nonfat to whole and steps in-between, on a regular basis. Sometimes, even raw (gasp! AND hooray!), unpasteurized milk is offered.

Prompting this question in the Ingredient Sleuth's brain:

"Do people really KNOW how GOOD milk in glass bottles tastes?" Or have we forgotten what the REAL THING really has to offer?

In these times of renewed interest in sustainability and organics, both for preservation of the environment AND because foods just plain TASTE so much better in their fresh and unaltered states, people seem to be in a process of rediscovery.

That white beverage in the glass bottles does seem to have a flavor that is uniquely its own. Even in its lowfat versions, there is a depth of flavor -- and a pleasantly-sweet component -- that is hard to duplicate.

Hmmm, let's see, what does it remind me of -- just there, at the tip of my tongue? Ah yes! Sweet-and-fresh butter, honeyed ice cream, pungent cheeses. So THAT'S how all those good things come to taste so delicious. (Another one of those "well duh" moments, in the making!)

They are made from milk!!! Not that imitation stuff, sort of a scaled-back version of itself, that has stood around in waxy or plastic-y environs for days and days and days. But real, fragrant, wholesome milk, just as as the cow made it for us. Meant to be enjoyed sooner, rather than later, without contact with artificial flavors of any kind.

As a treat, even if not for every day -- and sometimes even in place of ice cream -- this Sleuth likes nothing better than a tall, ice-cold, glass of the REAL THING! THEN, and only then, one really can say "GOT MILK!" And perhaps, play a little xylophone-like song on the bottles as well!

A Hard-Boiled (Egg) Story

In my neighborhood, eggs seem to grow on trees! Giant, colorful eggs sprout once a year, in springtime, at just one house on the block. I’ve always wondered what the homeowners DO with all those eggs? And just how tall IS that Easter Bunny, to be able to attach the eggs to such a big tree? And, which DID come first, the tree – or the eggs?

Without delving deeper into this little piece of fiction, or into the infamous and unanswerable chicken-or-egg-first question, let’s just enjoy eggs for what they are and focus for a moment on this week’s favorite: the hard-boiled Easter egg. Whether delivered by the Easter bunny in baskets or buckets or on trees, these tasty hard-cooked, versatile eggs can be eaten from breakfast to dinner and all times in between.

Many different variations of cooking method have been promoted, from time to time. The most-common method simply involves placing eggs into a saucepan wide enough to allow them to sit in one layer without crowding, deep enough to allow one inch of water to cover the top of the eggs and a couple of inches more space to allow for boiling froth.

Over high heat, bring the eggs and water just to a full boil. Then, remove the pan from the heat immediately and cover with a tight-fitting lid. Let the eggs stand in the pan, covered for 15 minutes. Then, pour off the hot water and run cold water over the eggs to stop them from cooking and to make peeling easier.

Shelling hard-cooked eggs is also made easier by using eggs that are at least several days old, gently tapping the entire surface of the shell against a flat surface and peeling from the large end. Some people like to peel eggs under running water to further assist in the shell-removal process.

The following delicious recipe using hard-boiled eggs comes from the LIDIA’S FAMILY TABLE cookbook (Alfred A. Knopf Publishers, New York, 2004), by Lidia Matticchio Bastianich with David Nussbaum. Techniques and recipes from this book are also featured in Ms. Bastianich’s syndicated PBS-TV series.

Both the TV show and the cookbook allow aspiring Italian cooks to spend some virtual time in Lidia’s kitchen and learn the techniques that she uses – the ideas and methods that were passed to her through her family and that she has developed for use in her highly-popular restaurants in New York City, Pittsburgh and Kansas City.

Starting from the basics, Ms. Bastianich describes beloved Italian everyday favorites and then progresses to tried-and-true variations, improvisations and cook-to-cook tips – just as she would if standing next to a cooking enthusiast in her own kitchen. As she so often says on her TV show, she doesn’t want people to be a slave to the recipes but just to get ideas to use in their own cooking. A devoted author and nationwide lecturer, she also provides lots of information and ideas at her website: http://www.lidiasitaly.com/.

So, let’s gather up those hard-cooked Easter eggs and get started!

CAULIFLOWER AND EGG SALAD
(Serves 6 or more)

1 large head cauliflower (1-1/2 to 2 pounds)
½ teaspoon or more salt
3 hard-boiled eggs
3 tablespoons or more white wine vinegar
¼ cup or more extra-virgin olive oil
Freshly ground pepper to taste

Tear off all the outer leaves attached to the base of the cauliflower; reserve any tender green leaves. Cut out the bottom core, and snap or slice off all the big florets from the inner stem. Cut the florets into 1-inch chunks or thick slices (don’t break them up into tiny florets).

Bring 3 or 4 quarts of water in a large pot to the boil, drop in the florets and reserved leaves, and cook, uncovered, at a steady boil for 5 minutes, or until cooked through but not soft. Lift out the cauliflower, spread the pieces out in a colander, and sprinkle with ¼ teaspoon of the salt. Cool to room temperature.

Before serving, slice the eggs in wedges, and cut the wedges into 2 or 3 pieces each. In the bottom of a large mixing bowl, whisk together the vinegar, oil, another ¼ teaspoon salt, and grinds of pepper. Put all the cauliflower in the bowl, and tumble to dress all the pieces. Scatter the egg pieces over the top, and fold them in. Taste, and adjust the seasonings.

Arrange the salad on a serving platter, or portion on salad plates.

*Copyright Note*: Lidia Bastianich specifically authorized this recipe reprint, by the Ingredient Sleuth, in this posting.

The additional notes to the recipe indicate that this dish is good as a first course, a side dish or a partner with broccoli for a supper dish. As Lidia says, “At my grandma’s house, we used to have this kind of salad many a time, with a slice of homemade bread and some good cheese, for supper.”

The LIDIA'S FAMILY TABLE cookbook is filled with photos -- of beautiful food and of four generations of Lidia’s family-- showing the ways in which food serves as an integral part of the family's routine, creating an ongoing interaction among all generations. For the Ingredient Sleuth, those photos and the explanations never fail to bring a smile. Somehow, Ms. Bastianich has managed to capture, in book format, those person-to-person encounters that magnify all good cooking and good food.

As the Easter baskets are gathered and the pyramid of colorful eggs is placed lovingly in that bowl in the refrigerator, I hope that today’s recipe comes in handy. Enhanced by the addition of just a few additional ingredients, those eggs of the hard-boiled variety will be ready to be gobbled up by eager salad eaters in no time!

Happy Easter, buon appetito -- and as Lidia says at the close of every TV show, "tutti a tavola a mangiare!" (All to the table to eat!)

Yogurt Tales

Mini Yogurts, in Glass, from Trader Joe's Market


Fast-forward to the future:

There we are, in the Ingredient Sleuth's garage one morning, California sunshine streaming in through the door's easterly windows. Hundreds of shiny reflections bounce into near-space, from the shelving that lines the walls. In some of the reflections, little rainbow-segments of multi colors flutter brightly.

Has the Sleuth finally embarked upon a career in glass blowing, using the garage as storage area for recently-created wonders? Or maybe she has gone wild at the local flea market and bought up every glass Christmas ornament that she could find?

Probably not. Most likely, she has simply continued to set aside -- just for a LITTLE while, of course! -- each and every one of those darling little yogurt pots as they were emptied and rinsed. Just too charming to toss out, those mini, glass jars. Just perfect for a handful of fresh, purple pansies or white lilies-of-the valley -- or both! You could easily picture them in the middle of a small, round cafe table, adding a flowery touch to patio dining.

How quickly time passes -- the glass jars must number one hundred by now!

Fortunately, this little vision is still futuristic. I haven't stockpiled EVERY little yogurt jar. And, even if I had, my yogurt-jar productivity would be severely restricted by my normal penchant to buy yogurt in those economical 32-ounce plastic tubs!

These little yogurts, imported from Europe, are great little treats, though. I like to savor them as a dessert, alternating time-to-time among the flavors that are available. There seems to be something about their taste that is just SO natural, somehow. They make dessert feel so, well, healthful!

Naturally, my mind has turned to producing some yogurt treats that are similar, using the contents of the 32-ounce plastic tubs. Memories of "yogurt tales" come to the surface and inspire new attempts at "yogurt management"!

I remember a television segment in which travel commentator Rick Steves tasted Greek yogurt, topped with a lovely, drippy topping of honey. Not normally one to over-enthuse about foods in his programs, typically uttering a prosaic "that's good" during tastings, Rick displayed a rather dreamy look of pleasure as he experienced the lovely contrast of flavors.

Then too, there was the episode of Huell Howser's charming TV journals (about life throughout California) in which he featured the +100-year-old California man who still made his own yogurt at home and consumed good servings of it every day. Huell looked a little surprised at the "bold" flavor of the homemade, plain yogurt when he tasted it. But, he had to marvel at the way the centenarian gentleman fielded both kitchen utensils and interviewer questions with simultaneous aplomb during their meeting! The interviewee credited, what else, the yogurt!

A closer-to-home yogurt tale grew out of one of my own personal experiences with the creamy, white milk product. The first time that I tried one of those handy little individual containers of cherry yogurt, I was SO disappointed! What an affront to my taste buds! In spite of the pretty, dark red cherry on the container, there was not a single cherry to be found! Until .... Yes, that's right. There it was, all the good cherry sweetness, at the bottom of the container. Maybe I should have read the directions before eating!

To imitate those "fruit at the bottom" yogurts that are so familiar, I like to put a spoonful of my favorite fruit preserves on the top of "plain" (read as "cheaper") yogurt. It really doesn't take much re-training, even for the Ingredient Sleuth, to stir the fruit down rather than up! That way, I can control the amount of sweetness that is added.

My favorite yogurt memory, though, is a particularly-appropriate one to share today. Around a beautiful, round, wooden dining table in La Jolla, California, a gracious and welcoming hostess fluttered with capable (and typical) ease. Florence, my downstairs neighbor at the condo complex that was my first California residence some time ago, was entertaining my mother, sister and me.

I was almost as new to California as my vacationing family. We all became "fast friends" with Florence. How could we not? Always more interested in listening than talking, Florence was (and is) an expert at drawing you out, making you feel comfortable, making you feel interesting! Undoubtedly, her career in publishing intensified those conversational skills that were, and are, so natively and uniquely hers.

The conversation flew, rapid-fire, from topic to topic. Travel, world events, art ... so much to discuss and always so little time! At dessert time, with barely an interruption to the conversation, Florence handily placed serving bowls of huge-and-juicy strawberries (still wearing their pointy green-stemmed "hats"), golden-brown-and-crystallized sugar and creamy-and-rich yogurt on the table.

As each of us dipped strawberry after strawberry into its coating of yogurt, then brown sugar, we filled the room with talk and laughter. In between, we popped strawberries into our mouths and enjoyed the wonderfully-tasty treat that I will always think of as "Florence's Yogurt Pops"!

I am happy to report that Florence and I continue to keep in touch even though we no longer live in the same city. I am even happier to report that our phone conversations are as rapid-fire and wide-ranging as ever! In addition, the emergence of the Ingredient Sleuth blog has created a new aspect of our friendship.

From time to time, Florence puts on her former publishing hat (figuratively speaking -- at least I don't THINK she has an official publishing hat!), and tells me about something "potentially interesting" that she has encountered. My blog posting regarding chocolate, for example, grew out of her call to alert me to the Field Museum's travelling chocolate exhibit in San Diego (see my post of May 27, 2005).

And so, on this November 4th, I am cheshire-cat pleased and proud to send my happiest birthday wishes to Florence. I don't know if it was the stay-young yogurt on those strawberries or not, but she is as dynamic and sparkly as ever.

"Happy 100th Birthday, Dear Florence!"

Sausage Counter at Mattern Market 

Fish Counter, Outdoor Market, Rouen, France

A True Fish Story

So many fish, so little time! I am fortunate to live in an area that is ocean-close. Near many harbor areas, up and down the California coast, there are clusters of specialty shops. Within those clusters, there are often fantastic little fish markets. One need only walk a few steps, along the harbor-front sidewalks, to see the fishing boats unloading the precious day’s catch. You can’t get any closer to “whole food” than that! At the same time, as one of nature's little bonuses, you have the opportunity to get up-close-and-personal with a variety of ocean birds – they are always there, watching the fish being unloaded too!

Baked, sautéed, poached, fried, grilled … the preparation options for fish are myriad. I use them all, often as I can. There is one recipe, though, that maintains a special place in my heart. As so often happens in such cases, that preparation method is linked to memories of my youth.

Summertime visits to Door County, Wisconsin, whether a day or a week in length, were always a special event for me. Small cities, with names like Sister Bay, Egg Harbor and Fish Creek are replete with water views – some of Lake Michigan and some of Green Bay (the body of water, not the Packer's football stadium).

In fact, surrounded by water for virtually its entire perimeter, the Door County Peninsula has always been fish-friendly. A highly-touristed area, the county is filled with interesting gift shops, excellent restaurants, great golf courses and friendly people. And those friendly residents have a longstanding fish preparation method that has come to be emblematic of Door County – and a necessity for my visits there. Let's go there, for a short fish story --

Now, as then, as the sun moves lower into the afternoon sky, the summertime crowds begin to gather and the preparation for the evening’s meal event gets underway. In progress: the Door County Fish Boil. Huge iron cauldrons are suspended over an outdoor fire, then filled with water to the appropriate level. To peer into the giant cauldrons, one would have to be tall enough to ride the height-restricted rides at Disneyland!

As the fire is stoked, the water begins to boil. People in the watching crowd (many holding frosty glasses of beer in hand) begin to applaud as the stainless steel buckets of unpeeled, whole potatoes are carried to the awaiting cauldron and emptied with a flourish by the muscular cooks. The boiling proceeds for some time, as the steam rises to the skies.

The next round of applause greets the onions, peeled but left whole, about the size of the potatoes. They too leave their stainless steel containers as they join the potatoes in the boiling cauldron. And finally, after the potatoes and onions have continued their cooking for awhile longer – and perhaps the second round of beer has been delivered – the gleaming, white fillets of fish are added. The fish, of course, cooks very rapidly and soon thereafter it is time for the “big finish.”

Pounds of salt are brought to the cauldron with much pomp and circumstance, then lifted overhead by the attending cook. As the crowd becomes quiet – at least as quiet as possible, given the beers-in-hand – the salt is added to the mixture. Immediately, the salt works its magic. All of the froth that has been created by the boiling rises to the top of the cauldron and spills over the edges.

This salt-induced boil-over not only seasons the fish and vegetables. It also removes cooking residue from all the wonderful ingredients and spills water onto the fire which, hissing and sputtering, creates the final “splash” of drama that is the trademark of the event! You don’t have to be an ingredient sleuth to appreciate the theatrics! The crowd roars and then immediately heads to the rows of waiting tables. Finally, it’s time to eat!

A small army of servers is on hand to receive the dozens of plates that have been filled by the cooks. Steaming servings of well-drained potato, onion and fish (each with its own mini pitcher of hot, melted butter) are then whisked to the waiting diners. All of the accompaniments, waiting at the tables, are already well in-hand by the hungry eaters: coleslaw, various breads, sauces and condiments … all the trimmings. Soon, the boisterous sounds of happy diners fill the land and the slanting rays of days-end sun reflect all-too-soon from well-emptied plates.

Dessert follows, as naturally as the setting of the sun, and provides several choices, much emphasis being focused on fruit pies made from locally-grown cherries and apples. Dessert was always secondary to me, though. Perhaps my appetite was already satiated – because I always used every available drop of my melted butter? For me, the fish was the thing.

Once home, Door County visits well behind us, my mother decided that there was no need for us to go into fish-boil-withdrawal. She set about recreating a year-round method of imitating those tasty feasts. Certainly, the wood fire, giant cauldron and bubble-over conclusion were foregone. But, with a large stock pot and the carefully-timed addition of potatoes, then onions, then fish – and mom’s signature addition of celery stalks and leaves, at the same time as the onions, for added flavor – our mini fish boils were almost as eventful around our kitchen table as they had been in Door County. From time to time, we even had beer and applauded!

Today, my at-home fish boils have moved to the West Coast and are made with any firm, white-fleshed fish that looks good at the market. Whether fish from streams, bays, lakes or oceans come my way, there is always something compelling about them – as if they are calling to me with those little fish lips. I am even drawn to them at markets when I am traveling. Hence: today’s photo is from the outdoor market in Rouen, France. Maybe I wasn’t able to take those fish back to my hotel room and cook them – but I certainly did ooh and aah at them at the market. Bon appetit – and cheers!

Feta With Herbs 

Fridge-Friendly Feta

As cheeses go, feta seems like a camel – or that innocuous battery-powered bunny from the TV commercials – to me. It just keeps going, and going, and going. Stored in a durable, lidded, plastic container in the refrigerator, feta waits for me patiently day after day after day. No mold, no muss, no fuss. I’m sure that this cannot go on indefinitely, of course. At some point, one day, it simply must spoil. It is fantastic, though, that this phenomenon seems to take weeks, rather than days, to occur. Come to think of it, I don’t think I have ever had to throw away any spoiled feta.

Feta (occasionally spelled fetta) is a traditional Greek-style cheese that is typically made from goats' milk but may also be made from the milk of sheep or cows. It is crumbly in texture and is typically sold in either a block form, packed in a brine solution, or already crumbled. It may be soft to firm in consistency. Recently, I found some that was labeled French feta and thought that its flavor was milder and slightly less salty than Greek-style feta.

In any case, feta’s rich earthiness seems perfectly suited for combination with the earthy flavor of herbs. Dried herbs, being more intense, seem to best stand up to the intense flavor of the cheese. Here’s how I like to combine them:

Remove some block-style feta from its brine solution, dry it off with paper towels and cut it into half-inch cubes. Place the cubes into a durable, lidded plastic container with a flat bottom. Pour some good extra virgin olive oil over the cheese cubes, using enough so that there is some oil puddled in the bottom of the container. Sprinkle a combination of dried (not fresh) herbs over the oil-coated feta. (Use the herbs that you like best and rub them between your fingers or give them the mortar-and-pestle treatment to release the flavors before putting them on top of the feta.) For a nice Italian flavor, I like to use oregano, basil, rosemary, thyme, parsley and maybe a little black pepper or crushed red pepper flakes for extra zing. Use enough herbs to give the cheese a light coating; you can always add more herbs later if you want additional flavor. Put the cover on the plastic container and give the mixture a gentle shake to distribute the oil and herbs. If the feta has already completely absorbed the olive oil at this stage, you may wish to add a bit more, so that there is once again a layer of oil at the bottom of the container.

As a topping for salads, as an addition to pasta dishes or as a quick-bite cracker spread, this herbed feta adds a wonderfully-homemade touch. How can homemade flavor be this easy. And there it sits in the fridge, patiently waiting for me to enjoy it, on a moment’s notice. When it comes to fridge-friendly cheese, what could be “betta” than feta?