Does Bread Make You Say "Ouch"?

I love bread. It seems to touch, and satisfy, my very being. Like many people, I've tried my hand at baking it. I've enjoyed using an automatic bread machine -- I'm not a bread snob. I've relished, even when flour-dusted from head to toe with muscles screaming from kneading, baking bread from scratch. I've made the well-known New York Times-published no-knead bread recipe -- it works, see the photo above.

But many people are not so fortunate. Gluten sets their bodies to reeling. We see an increasing number of gluten-free products in the grocery stores. And some of them are better than others, not only in taste, but in ingredient content and preparation. I suspect that often, these gluten-free products are the result of necessity leading to invention. Nothing inspires one quite so much as finding a solution for the health problem of a loved one.

And that is exactly the case in the development of a range of new gluten-free products by a company called Gluten Free Treasures. Based in Menasha, Wisconsin, this young company is moving forward quickly in meeting the gluten-free needs of its community. And with the power of the Internet (with customer testimony on Facebook and Twitter) and nationwide shipping, the mail-order needs of an expanding customer base.

These products, from bread and rolls to muffins and cakes and cookies, go a long way in taking the "ouch" out for people who, like me, love their baked goods. Bravo!

And for simple fun related to breadmaking, and to help you lose your fear of flour, check out the recent book by William Alexander titled "52 Loaves: one man's relentless pursuit of truth, meaning and the perfect crust." It's a great memoir about one man's attempt to create the perfect loaf, in his spare time. When that man is highly-creative, a bit compulsive, slightly devil-may-care and a gifted storyteller, the fun can't be far behind!

*****
Update, May 2016

Unfortunately, as is the case with  so many small, start-up businesses, Gluten Free Treasure in Wisconsin no longer exists.  But, as I am sure you all know, the gluten-free movement has taken off in a big way and there are many alternatives available today.  For those who need this alternative, what a great development!

Peaches and Herb - Revisited

White, Freestone Peaches





Trivia Question:

What pop group from the 1960's and 70's earned the nickname "Sweathearts of Soul" with hits like "Let's Fall in Love" and "Close Your Eyes"?

(No guesses? Or are you one of those clever people who knew the answer right away?)

Here's a Hint:

The answer is food-related! And no, it's not the Beatles -- even as gregarious an eater as the Ingredient Sleuth hasn't termed beetles (and it's spelled with an 'e' rather than an 'a' anyway) a food just yet!

(Give up?)

The Answer:

Peaches & Herb!


If you've finished groaning, after that introduction, we can proceed to the topic at hand -- peaches! Here we are, well into the depth of summer (ask anyone in the hot zone that seems to exist everywhere in the Northern Hemisphere this year), and peaches are available in all of their juicy abundance.

Originating in China, then migrating along the ancient Silk Road to Persia and the Mediterranean by 2000 B.C., the pretty, pink blossoms of peach trees now grace fields and back yards worldwide. Where blossoms glow, peaches grow!

As modern cultivars, peaches are typically classified as either "cling" or "freestone" based on the characteristics of the peach flesh surrounding the stone. In cling peaches, the flesh clings to the ridgy-surfaced stone; in freestone peaches, the flesh pulls away cleanly from the stone.

Many say that cling peaches are sold primarily for commercial canning purposes, and, as a result, do not appear routinely on grocers' shelves as fresh fruit. I find that NOT to be true, however.

Many times, after making a nice, slick cut around the circumference of the peach, then doing that opposite-direction turn of the two halves, I grimace as I discover that the peach is as tightly attached to the stone as before I made the cut! A Cling Peach! I then proceed with more cuts, wedging off thin slices of peach, one by one. Still just as delectable, albeit a bit more drippy -- and best not tried if the consumer is wearing long sleeves -- the peach slices eventually find their way to mouth or serving dish.

Freestone peaches are simpler and much better for lunch boxes, picnics, and virtually all applications, in my way of viewing the world (in which I prefer dry wrists to peach-juice wrists!). The flesh of the peach slips easily away from the stone and is ready for use without delay.

The flesh of the peach, in both cases, may be either yellow or white. Those with a true sweet tooth will likely prefer the white-fleshed varieties; the yellow varieties typically provide an extra little acidic tang.

Both yellow- and white-fleshed peaches often have red on their skin. As a result, peach identification, at the market, is best accomplished by faithful reading of the grocer's signage -- and perhaps of those pesky little glued-on stickers.

Today's recipe makes splendid use of freestone peach halves. From the recent cookbook by Jerry Traunfeld (HERBAL KITCHEN: Cooking with Fragrance and Flavor, William Morrow/Harper Collins Publishers, 2005), the recipe develops the flavors of the peaches by roasting and enhances them with the zing of herbs, nuts and sugars.


Roasted Peaches filled with Almond and Tarragon
(8 servings)

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
¼ cup sugar
¼ cup dark brown sugar, packed
1 large egg
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon coarsely chopped tarragon
¾ cup sliced almonds
4 large ripe freestone peaches

Preheat the over to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Beat together the butter and both sugars in a mixing bowl with a wooden spoon, or in an electric mixer, until there are no lumps. Beat in the egg and then the flour. Stir in the tarragon and almonds.

Split the peaches in half and remove the pits. Arrange the peaches cut side up in a shallow baking dish just large enough to hold them. Divide the almond filling into 8 equal portions and mound each in the cavity of a peach half. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes, or until the filling spreads over the top of the peaches and becomes well browned and crisp. Cool the peaches slightly. Serve them warm in shallow bowls with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

Herbal improvisations: In place of the tarragon, add ¼ cup chopped anise hyssop leaves. Fresh green fennel seed is also good in this dessert; use 2 teaspoons chopped soft seed.

** NOTE: This recipe was authorized for reprint by the Ingredient Sleuth with the express permission of the author, Jerry Traunfeld, and the publisher.

The pleasing blend of flavors in this dish seems to me to be in complete harmony with the concepts of yin and yang of peaches' native China! The balance of all the flavor components is simply grand. And the caramel-crisp nut/herb topping is eye-rollingly luscious!

Eating these peaches while they are still warm is heavenly. Oozing-sweet peach juice, melted butter-caramel, roasted-rich nuts and bright, slightly-licorice fennel -- flavor explosions, texture contrasts. A dish that made my mouth water WHILE I was eating it! Every bite called for another.

The HERBAL KITCHEN cookbook is grand, as well. Mr. Traunfeld grasps the concept of HOW we gardeners -- especially herb gardeners -- cook! He knows that we eyeball our herb beds/containers/windowsills and think, "Hmmm, I have a lot of lovely tarragon right now. I wonder how I should use it."

Then, we pull down a cookbook from a shelf and start browsing. In the HERBAL KITCHEN, not only do we find recipes, sweet and savory, that make wonderful use of herbs but also a quick, ready reference for answers to our herbal cultivation questions.

What herb gardener, somewhere along the way, hasn't asked himself, "I need to harvest some of that oregano. Now, do I cut it WAY back, or only halfway down the stem." Most of the time, I find answers to such gardening questions much more easily in the HERBAL KITCHEN than in a gardening book. This is not surprising, I think, simply because Mr. Traunfeld is a chef. He knows what we "cookers" are thinking!

As the head chef at The Herbfarm Restaurant (http://www.herbfarm.com/) in Woodinville, Washington, for over 15 years, Jerry Traunfeld creates herb-inspired Northwest menus each week. He has received the James Beard Award for Best American Chef in the Northwest and Hawaii.

Was it a favorite song from Peaches & Herb that inspired this delectable dish? Likely not, though every time you prepare Roasted Peaches filled with Almond and Tarragon, you may find yourself humming "Let's Fall in Love" -- mentally adding, "With peaches and herbs!"

This Moment's Pastry!

The hand-lettered sign in the lighted display case, red letters on a cream-colored card edged in black, was intriguing:

Patisserie du moment


















"Pastry of the moment" is the literal English translation. What a great concept!

Of course, we are familiar with the idea of "soup of the day" so "pastry of the day" wouldn't be very surprising. But, "Pastry of the Moment"? Now that's an idea that the Ingredient Sleuth can wrap her brain around!

The setting, of course, was a French-speaking locale, in this case Paris' Charles de Gaulle Airport. For a change, I had time to spare upon my arrival there, at the end of my Paris visit. What better way to pass the time as I waited for my departure than to visit just one more eatery!

Front and center, in the display case next to the cash register, the pastries glistened. Croissants, brioches, some savory, some sweet. But just there, right in the front, was the astonishing item: patisserie du moment!

You have to LOVE the idea of a pastry of the moment -- at least if you LOVE pastries half as much as I do! It's not simply sufficient to have a featured pastry of the DAY. Let's feature them at a moment's notice!

Undoubtedly, this designation provides additional opportunities for the baker to feature more items, more frequently. In addition, the baker doesn't have to be concerned with just how many of any one item to have on hand. When the first pastry (and moment) has disappeared, another can't be far behind! Or, as a more-pedestrian explanation, maybe it is just a great marketing tactic: feature the same item all day, but make it APPEAR extra-fresh by calling it the pastry of the moment!

In any case, at the moment that I happened to stroll in, the featured item was apple tart. And, as billed, it did taste very fresh, with the anticipated juicy apples on a buttery bed of pastry. Just the thing to fortify myself for that walk to the departure gate, through the jetway and down the aisle of the plane.

A lovely slice of delicious apple tart to remember contentedly as the engines roared, wheels rolled, and the beauty of the French countryside glistened (once again, it was raining as I departed Paris) beneath us.

And a reminder of oh-so-many lovely moments in the City of Light.

Bon appetit!

Anniversary Cakes, Ingredient-Sleuth-Style!

Ingredient Sleuth's First Anniversary -- Let Us Eat Cake!

Baguettes En Route in Paris 

Baguettes, Baguettes, Everywhere!

You just never know what you are going to see when you visit Paris! Sometimes I think that I should attempt to stay awake 24 hours a day, just so that I don’t miss anything, when I am there!

Maybe that’s not such a strange idea, in fact. Once a year, the City of Light celebrates “La Nuit Blanche” or “The White Night” in which major monuments, museums and shops remain open throughout the night and performances are presented on outdoor stages across the city. This year’s event, on October 1st, attracted about 1.3 million visitors – and the Ingredient Sleuth was one of them!

But, even without all-night events, there is SO much to be discovered in Paris! For example, when was the last time that you saw someone directing a symphony orchestra – or traffic -- with a baguette? Or scooping up a steamy, Chinese dinner with two baguettes? Or poking a slow-to-start fire with a baguette?

The French word baguette, as you may suspect, refers to much more than bread. It is also used to portray a musical conductor’s (or police officer’s) baton, chopsticks, or just a plain-old, generic stick. A baguette magique is a magic wand, a baguette de tambour is a drumstick.

In the hands of French bakers (boulangers), a baguette is a defining element. Texture, aroma, flavor and characteristic sticklike shape combine to present the quintessential French bread. What fun to emerge from the bakery, baguette in hand and saunter down the street, mouth watering in anticipation. Sometimes, the aroma is overpowering and a few delicate nibbles are required, en route!

The quality of a baker’s baguettes, in fact, has traditionally been a source of great pride in France. Never mind the dozens of other varieties of bread that glisten, steam and gleam tantalizingly, lined up in shop windows. Healthy whole grains, seeded rolls, coarsely-sea-salted rounds … the list is never-ending and ever-changing. Nonetheless, the baguette remains the boulanger’s defining product.

After the French Revolution (1789), the baguette came to serve as a symbol of the right of every French citizen to nourishment at a fair price. The legitimacy of a government, then as now, sprang from having sufficient quantities of nourishment available to citizens at affordable prices. For a time, the price that a French baker could charge for a baguette was government-controlled. Bread, after all, was the staff of life during this period in Europe.

The method used to bake baguettes during the 18th century featured an overnight development of the yeast, resulting in a baguette with a cream-colored interior (rather than white) and a much more pronounced flavor and aroma than other breads. Over the decades and centuries, speeded along by “modern” mechanized methods, shortcuts inevitably ensued and the character of the average baguette changed. A general decline of baguette quality, beginning with the 1950s, is documented by Steven Kaplan, in his book THE BEST BREAD IN THE WORLD: THE BAKERS OF PARIS IN THE 18TH CENTURY (LE MEILLEUR PAIN DU MONDE: LES BOULANGERS DE PARIS AU XVIIIe SIECLE), Fayard Publishing, 1996).

In a second book on the subject, THE RETURN OF GOOD BREAD, published in 2002, Mr. Kaplan (an American, a French cultural historian and a visiting professor at the University of Pennsylvania who teaches European history at Cornell University) describes the movement by a new generation of French bakers, in the 1990s, to return to slow-fermentation processes. He visited some 600 bakeries in Paris (this sounds like a lot of fun to me!) as part of his research, tasted their baguettes and sometimes got wrist-deep into the dough in his search for understanding! This book, like the first, was well-received by the French bakery establishment.

In an additional book, Mr. Kaplan rated baguettes of the individual bakeries of Paris. While academically interesting and astonishingly impressive in its detail, this “guide book to the baguettes of Paris” comes best into focus and is most valuable, I think, when used to heighten the awareness – and expectations -- of the consumer.

Recently in fact, the French government codified into law a specific type of baguette (the baguette de tradition) that can only be made using the original, pre-modern methods. This classification definition resulted to a great extent from the detailed work done by Mr. Kaplan.

And what about the rest of us – those of us who buy baguettes in other parts of the world? Well, good bread baking, like news these days, travels very fast! Bakers near and far apply traditional techniques and offer their breads for sale. Specialty areas of supermarkets feature niche-bakery products. Artisan bakers show up at farmers’ markets and offer baguettes baked that morning. Vietnamese bakers (especially predominant here in southern California), turn out baguettes using techniques taught to their ancestors by the French during the colonial period.

One of my friends, who like Mr. Kaplan is a university professor (although of communications rather than European history), knows how to turn a baguette into a very tasty treat. Genelle is an adventurous eater and an excellent cook who, with her husband Doug (contributor of the Cilantro-Lime Chicken recipe from the Ingredient Sleuth’s “Coconut Connection” posting of 04/22/05), particularly enjoys whipping up delicious dishes from on-hand items.

The following recipe for quick and easy crostini ("crostini" means "little toasts" in Italian) sprang from the availability of an “embarrassment of basil and mint” (as Genelle so descriptively phrased it – of course, she IS a professor of communications) in their backyard herb bed:

CROSTINI A LA GENELLE

(Serves 2 to 3 for lunch, more as an appetizer.)

Tomatoes, seeded and chopped into dice to make 1 cup’s worth
Half a sweet onion (like Vidalia or Walla Walla), chopped fine
1/4 to 1/3 cup fresh herbs (cilantro, mint, basil, any combination), chopped
1 to 2 cloves garlic, chopped very fine
1/4 to 1/3 cup balsamic vinegar
1 to 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus additional for brushing on bread
Sea salt and freshly-ground pepper to taste
Parmigiano Reggiano
French baguette

1. Cut the baguette into thin slices. Brush each slice with olive oil and broil 3 to 4 minutes or until toasted. Set aside.

2. Put tomatoes, onion, herbs, garlic, balsamic, olive oil, salt and pepper in a bowl. Mix until combined. With a cheese grater, shred Parmigiano Reggiano over the mixture and blend in to taste. Garnish with more Parmigiano Reggiano and sprigs of the fresh herbs.

3. Serve topping with the broiled bread, providing a spoon for each guest. Guests spoon the tomato mixture onto the bread.

Copyright Note: Recipe reprinted by the Ingredient Sleuth with the permission of the author.

The bright and fresh blend of flavors in the topping of this luscious crostini combines beautifully with the rich-and-crunchy earthiness of the baguette. I think the French bakers would be proud, even though it is an Italian dish! But then, would one expect anything less from a professor with a French-sounding first name who is part Italian (ancestrally-speaking, at least!)?

So, let’s gather 'round the table, pick up our spoons and start scooping. Better yet, why not pop some French tunes by the Baguette Quartette into the CD player? This musical foursome focuses on music that was popular in Paris between 1920 and 1940, including valses musettes, tangos, pasos dobles and fox trots. And just to keep the global aspect of the baguette’s progress in mind, let’s be aware that the Baguette Quartette is from the San Francisco Bay Area!

It really seems that, these days, it’s baguettes, baguettes, everywhere! Bon appetit!

Space-Saving (Flat) Bread!

Flatbread selection at Jordan Market in Laguna Hills




Flatbreads of every description always seem to me to be space-saving bread. Or should that be "bread in space"? It makes me wonder if the astronauts ever take this kind of bread along when every tiny bit of space savings is crucial in the tiny cabin of their space vehicle. Maybe an extra square or two, for snacking, folded up in a tiny pocket of that space suit?

Certainly flatbreads are a good idea for backpackers or campers. After all, you wouldn't have to worry about any little slips or stumbles on the trail -- at least crush-wise -- if your bread is flat to begin with! Though, I suppose it wouldn't cushion one's fall quite as well as a puffy variety ....

And another question always come to mind about flatbreads. If they take up less space outside my stomach, do they take up less space INSIDE my stomach as well? I suppose chewing sort of equals things out, space-wise?

If bread is the "staff of life," flatbreads must be the handle! They have been around, nourishing people around the world -- especially nomadic people -- forever!

Some estimates suggest that as long as 15,000 years ago -- that would be 13,000 B.C.! -- wheat grain meal and water were mixed together and baked on heated rocks, thus creating the first flatbreads. Then, more "recently," say 2600 to 4000 B.C. (estimates vary over that 1400-year range, but of course, recordkeeping probably was not all THAT precise during that period!), the Egyptians added yeast-like substances to make bread rise, either a lot or a little, and created the first ovens for baking bread. Most of these breads would still be considered flatbreads, even though they contained small amounts of leavening agent.

The Greeks learned from the Egyptians and then passed on the knowledge to the Romans. And of course, those on-the-move Romans not only took it from there and grew better grains, improved the milling processes with finer sieves and built better ovens, but then transported the know-how all over Europe (undoubtedly carrying space-saving flatbreads with them!) as they conquered not only bread-making but everything else they could get their hands on! By 100 A.D., most of Europe had adopted Roman bread-baking techniques.

The beauty of the whole history of bread, to the Ingredient Sleuth, is the overwhelming variety of bread styles that we have come to enjoy: various grains, various baking styles, various densities, various form factors. A trip around the world, or around a well-stocked supermarket, provides bread choices of many descriptions.

For this week, let's consider only flatbreads -- at least, a FEW of them! As in all bread categories, the variety is inspiring.

TORTILLAS, round and unleavened, are Latin American flatbreads. They may be made from ground corn, masa (corn kernels cooked with unslaked lime and water) or wheat flours. Corn tortillas typically contain only masa and water. Flour tortillas usually include baking powder, salt, shortening and milk. In both cases, tortillas are cooked on an ungreased griddle. The Ingredient Sleuth will never forget the delectable flour tortillas, hot and fresh from the griddle, of Guadalajara , Mexico -- there's just SOMETHING about the flavor of real lard (rather than the vegetable shortenings predominant north of the border) in those little beauties! Supermarket tortillas, have also begun to feature added ingredients, such as avocado and sundried tomato flavors.

PITA BREAD, one of the oldest recipes known to mankind, is round, Arabic flatbread whose basic ingredients are flour, water, salt, sugar and yeast or starter. Sometimes, butter, shortening or dry milk are added. Because pita bread is baked at a very high temperature (500 degrees Fahrenheit), it forms a pocket shape. The dry exterior skin of the dough sets and carbon dioxide from the yeast and steam from the moist ingredients expand until the upper and lower layers separate. Pita bread spread to Italy from its Arabic locations of origin. And voila! Northern Italians topped it (rather than filled it) creating what they pronounced as "pizza!" (Isn't it a small world, after all?)

NAAN BREAD, the famous flatbread from India, is slightly leavened and formed into a roughly-oval shape. Made from white flour, it is sprinkled with pungent nigella seeds and baked at high heat in either a tandoor or regular oven. The picturesque -- dare I say romantic --part of the tandoor (clay) oven, I think, is the idea of slapping those flattened, oval dough disks onto the hot, interior walls. Of course, singed finger tips probably aren't so picturesque or romantic, for the bakers! Today, naan bread is a common restaurant item (sometimes in its garlic-flavored form) and is rarely baked at home, even in India.

LAVASH is Armenian flatbread. It is formed in various shapes and sizes and in textures from soft to crisp. It is unleavend and extremely flat -- sometimes paper-thin. This bread, a staple food not only in Armenia but in parts of neighboring Iran, Lebanon and Georgia, has been prepared the same way for thousands of years: long sheets of dough are stretched thin and baked in a clay oven similar to an Indian tandoor oven. Sheets of lavash, even as packaged in plastic in supermarkets, are large -- about 12 inches by 18 inches. The Ingredient Sleuth always winces when the checkout clerk nonchalantly folds the package in half in order to fit it into the shopping bag -- but the lavash has never broken and always arrives home safely.

These flatbreads (and others!) appear in ethnic markets, international markets, specialty food shops and, increasingly, in supermarkets as well. They are usually reasonably-priced, provide an interesting alternative to other workaday breads and won't take up much room in the shopping cart or in the pantry!

Whatever their shape, flatbreads of all descriptions are just the ticket for wrapping up tasty fillings, scooping up sauces and stews, dunking into dips, or (a personal favorite) slathering with honeys and jams and that wonderful chocolate-hazelnut spread Nutella. When it comes to flatbreads, everything old (and space-saving) is new again. You don't even have to be nomadic to enjoy them!

Bon appetit!

Dulce de Leche and Confiture de Lait

Dulce de Leche and (empty, sigh) Confiture de Lait

Caramel-icious in Any Language!

The city of Honfleur, in France's Normandy region, is known for its picturesque charm. A fishing town, port and former shipbuilding center, its wooden buildings cluster around a sparkling basin in its center. Even the fascinating historic church is constructed of wood and resembles the upside-down hull of a ship.

As we followed our tour guide, Marina (in retrospect, I realized what an appropriate name she had for that location), through narrow streets, we peered into shop windows, anxious to catch glimpses of treasures soon to be unearthed. “As you stroll around on your own later, you may want to come back to this shop,” she said, eyes twinkling. “They sell milk jam here!”

The anticipated twitter of tourist voices greeted that remark. “Milk jam?” we chorused. Some of us, especially the lactose-inclined, purred, “mmmm, that sounds lovely.” Others, simply more skeptical, or perhaps less lactic by nature, wrinkled their sunburned noses and said “ewwwww” in response.

Marina assured us that this mysterious product, a specialty of the Normandy region, was a highly-cherished condiment in the area. Those same Norman cows that produced rich, flavorful milk for delectable cheeses also produced rich, flavorful milk for this jam. We were already deeply in love with the cheeses, so she knew that she had scored a hit with that description.

This Ingredient Sleuth, of course, was fascinated and looked forward anxiously to the designated shopping time later in the day’s “jam-packed” (I can hear you groaning!) agenda. The small shop, just as Marina had said, was filled with compelling items. A quick scan, upon entry, confirmed that a floor-to-ceiling shelf, at the back of the shop, contained the special item. CONFITURE DE LAIT – milk jam!

CONFITURE is the French word for “jam” and LAIT is the French word for “milk.” Yes, this was it. But then, another puzzle developed. Not only was there milk jam, there was milk jam of many descriptions – all in French, of course. The Ingredient Sleuth does speak a fair amount of French, so interpreting the contents of each variety was not a problem. The problem resided, rather, in that tastebud-wrenching decision of the single variety upon which to confer the honor of consuming valuable suitcase space!

Eyes scanned pretty glass jars, each with a large, descriptive label. And from each description, a different flavor beckoned: hazelnut (noisette), vanilla (vanille), apple (pomme), rum (rhum), orange (orange – sometimes language is kind!), cinnamon (cannelle) and many more. My forehead produced those furrows that so characteristically accompany culinary decision-making. Clearly, I was troubled.

“Bonjour, Madame. Do you speak English?” I turned to meet the friendly smile of a young man in his early twenties. He quickly explained that he was a customer, not a clerk, but that he noticed my interest in the milk jams and wanted to be sure that I found what I wanted. He reiterated Marina’s statements about local pride in this Norman specialty. He lived in Normandy and was eager to explain that milk jam is simply a cooking-reduced combination of milk and sugar, sometimes with additional flavoring ingredients, sometimes plain. The light bulb went off in my brain. Of course everyone loved this. Essentially, we were talking about milk-based caramel!

My selection, after much musing and several reconsiderations, was the hazelnut variety. The considerate young man seemed to favor that one and it was a pleasure to see his face light up when I made that choice. I could easily have caved in and bought others, undoubtedly, but just at that stage, the wide-ranging local-honeys display caught my eye and suitcase considerations prevailed!

The single jar of hazelnut milk jam accomplished its mission, though. I now adore milk jam and consider Normandy a region of exquisite culinary delights. The words that I had heard about Norman cows feeding on particularly-sweet, organic grasses, thus producing particularly-flavorful milk products, rang true.

Like many dessert and sweet items in France, confiture de lait is less highly-sweetened than similar North American treats. The full-bodied flavor of the milk itself seems to demand less sweetening. The milk jam’s consistency is firm enough to allow a teaspoon to stand upright in the jar but creamy enough to allow for creative dipping.

The list of contents is short and wonderful: whole milk, sugar and other natural flavors. Absent from the list are thickening agents, preservatives and coloring agents. The milk’s protein and calcium, as well as natural mineral salts, constitute the nutritional profile. Nutritious and delicious -- with a rich, golden color straight from nature's color palette!

People in Normandy typically eat milk jam as a topping for ice cream, pancakes, toasted bread, yogurt or even young cheese. I tried those, and they were all excellent. Throwing caution to the wind, I quickly progressed to the use of walnut halves, apple slices and pretzel sticks as dipping items. And then, of course, there WAS the day that the dark chocolate squares found their way to the milk jam jar …….. That was the day that the jar was emptied!

Milk jam cam be purchased throughout Normandy and, of course, in Paris (which wisely offers and employs the very best of ingredients from all of France's regions). After a fair number of perusals of U.S. markets and specialty stores, I have not yet found French-style, all-natural, milk jam available. Reluctant to turn to Internet sources on this ingredient (those jam-filled jars ARE quite heavy, as a shipping item), and not yet completely confident that I have found a good, equivalent recipe for milk jam, I have discovered one item that is similar.

Dulce de Leche (Spanish for candy of milk!) is a thick, caramel paste that can be found in the foreign-foods or baking-ingredients aisles of some supermarkets (particularly in areas which have significant Hispanic populations). The Spanish, like the French, knew a good thing when they created it and caramel, in any geography, is a winner.

This canned version of dulce de leche (the one pictured above is made in Chile) seems to be available only in the basic, caramel flavor. It is made with milk, sugar and agar (a seaweed-derived thickening agent) and contains preservative agents. Slightly thicker, and significantly sweeter than confiture de lait, this dulce de leche nevertheless satisfies those cravings for a convenient topping that will be similarly caramel-icious in any language!

Bon appetit – and buen apetito!

Chocolate, Ready-to-Go 

Some Chocolate Help(s)!

The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the swimming pool was shimmering. Granted, it was just an inflatable, child’s wading pool, of light blue plastic. But it was a pool nonetheless; it even had a tiny diving board, perfect for a quick dip!

The first jump of the afternoon was by Rachael Raisin. Her skin, though a bit wrinkled, glistened as she stood on the board, sun reflecting all around. She hit the pool with a tiny splish-splash, then trilled in her even-tinier voice, “Fire!”

Next up was Alfonso Almond, the jokester who, even at his young age, always had something incongruous to say. The diving board was slippery for him, but he stood gallantly at the very tip of it, twisted his golden-brown body as he slipped (more than dove) toward the pool. “Fire!” he called, sounding even nuttier than usual.

Finally, Amanda Apricot struggled onto the board. Her well-rounded body was not well-suited to diving boards. But, she rolled painstakingly to the end of the board, wobbled left, then right, and finally careened off the side of the board and into the pool at its very rim. “Fire!” she murmured, as she realized that she was merely waist-deep – in chocolate!

As Rachael, Alfonso and Amanda dried off later, in the shade of the patio umbrella, the lifeguard had to ask, “Why did you all yell ‘fire’ when you jumped into the chocolate?” And then, even before they answered, she knew the response. It had to be the old record album that she had found at the flea market yesterday and played repeatedly in the evening. The Smothers Brothers had sung a catchy little tune, about falling into the chocolate and yelling “fire.” Why? Because, they sang, no one would have saved them if they’d yelled, “Chocolate!”

In fact, if they had yelled “chocolate” everyone would probably just have gotten up from their chairs and headed to the store to buy some! Or strolled to the pantry to retrieve some. Or found giant spoons, dipped into the chocolate pool and started eating! The world often seems as immersed (mentally, at least) in chocolate as Amanda Apricot. The mere mention of the word seems to create a mesmerizing craving. How did this come to be? When? Where? How?

Those are the questions that are answered by a fascinating, traveling exhibit of Chicago’s Field Museum (http://www.fieldmuseum.org). I saw the “Chocolate” exhibit recently, in San Diego, and learned many things about this most-enticing of ingredients. (Currently, the exhibit is in San Francisco, will move on to Milwaukee in October, and to Atlanta next February.)

Cacao trees thrived in Central America as early as 200 A.D. Their seeds, thirty to fifty of which are contained in each acorn-squash-sized (but skinnier) pod, are about the size of an almond. The purple-white seeds are wet when removed from the pod, turn brown after being exposed to the air, are dried and then are ready for further processing.

From 250 to 900 A.D., a bitter, white drink that the ancient Mayans created with the beans was moved northward; the march of chocolate had begun. The cacao beans became known, and valued, among peoples of the region. As the beans’ perceived value grew, they themselves served as currency for the Aztecs in a kind of semi-bartering arrangement. Perhaps, the budding chocoholics of ancient times couldn’t resist consuming their currency, rather than spending it on other purchases, when a craving struck!

In the 1600s, Spanish explorers, especially Hernan Cortes, carried cacao beans to Spain. That was when the true magic, at least as perceived by we modern types, began. The Spanish added sugar, creating a sweetened drink, and chocolate’s future appeal was guaranteed! Over the years that followed, people throughout Europe would develop varied methods of using the sweetened mixture. Processing (from roasting through grinding, pressing, refining and tempering) would come to bear so that chocolate, in all of its liquid and solid formats as known today, could spread its flavors throughout the world.

Over time, the 30 to 50 seeds contained in each pod of the cacao tree would come to produce enough chocolate for seven chocolate bars, as we know them today. Gazing at the cacao tree, with pods, on display in the museum exhibit, I immediately did the mental translation into seven times as many chocolate bars, suspended there from the tree’s branches! Visions of sugar plums, dancing in my head, yet again!

The exhibit also features many of the accoutrements that have grown up around the use of the tasty cacao bean. Serving vessels from ancient times, hot-cocoa porcelain sets from Europe’s finest makers, early Easter-bunny mold forms from the 1890s and, my personal favorite, a 1920s to 1940s Hershey candy bar vending machine with per-bar pricing of ONE CENT! (Sigh.) The exhibit also includes its own gift shop, allowing exhibit-goers to emerge from the viewing with chocolate in-hand (although not priced at one cent) to satisfy the craving.

Further detail about chocolate production and its processing, recipes and enough colorful photographs (over 600) to send one straight to the store or pantry are contained in THE CHOCOLATE BIBLE, a book by Christian Teubner (et al), Penguin Studio Publishers. Especially intriguing, to me, is the concept that cacao beans from various tree varieties, various parts of the world, and various seasonal climatic conditions, have unique flavors. These flavors are blended, to produce specific chocolate profiles, just as varying grapes are blended for wine and diverse coffee beans are combined for coffees. Recipes for the use of chocolate as an ingredient, from cocoa to chips to melted bars, abound.

A currently-popular concept seems to be the coating, or partial coating, of nuts and dried fruits with melted chocolate. Tree nuts, as well as peanuts and the (legume) soy nut, are routinely available in chocolate-coated formats. Dried fruits also provide a wonderful blend of flavors when paired with chocolate. A quick Internet search confirmed what I have noticed at my local Trader Joe’s store (http://www.traderjoes.com/), which has an excellent selection of chocolate-coated dried fruits -- the pairings seem endless! Raisins, apricots, blueberries, cherries, cranberries, ginger, blackberries, raspberries, strawberries, orange peel, pineapple – all are available in a dizzying array from Internet purveyors.

In addition, the windows of those exclusive chocolatier shops that one sees, around-and-about the world, these days also reflect the nuts and fruits trend. An increasing number offer thin bars or bite-sized disks of chocolate, on which are placed several beautiful pieces of fruit slices and nuts in an artistic arrangement. In keeping with the chocolatier tradition, they are ALMOST too pretty to eat! I am proud to state that I overcome that barrier, however!

We “do-it-our-selfers” can go wild as we decide which nuts or dried fruits to dip into the glistening melted chocolate – albeit not with the use of a wading pool! Maybe we like the idea of coating each whole item, individually. Maybe we like to form little clusters of one item, or a custom combination of items, and drop them by the teaspoonful onto parchment paper to dry. Maybe we like to create little half-moon areas of chocolate coating (like little chocolate hats!) at one end of the nut or fruit, creating colorful delicacies to accompany a dessert of ice cream. In any case, the crunch of nuts and the sweet, soft, flavor explosion of fruits combine to create a taste and “mouth feel” that embellishes chocolate’s rich smoothness.

As long as there is opulent, lovely chocolate, and as long as people are drawn to it by the multitudes, the dipping will continue. Each item, headed for its plunge, may not call out “Fire” as it is adorned with its crowning glory. More likely, the brain of the participating cook will call out “Chocolate” with each item’s dunking! And then, at last, the cook will finish the work, clear up the work surface, and do the obvious -- indulge! Bon appetit!

Honey Selection -- Whole Foods Market

Honey, You're Not Too Sweet

It's a funny thing about honey. Its rich sweetness is almost visible, as it lazily drizzles, glistening, off of the spoon. Sometimes, it can taste almost too sweet. At least, that's how I have always felt about honey. As I have discovered, honey is not honey is not honey.

Even the little, plastic, squeezable honey-bear bottle is taking honey to a whole new level. In days gone by, that little honey bear served up one -- and only one -- kind of honey: sweet clover. Bringing to mind fields of fragrant purple or white clover blossoms, that sweet clover nomenclature for honey has always been idyllic. Can't you just picture a lazy afternoon in late summer, bees buzzing contentedly, far too busy with the fragrant clover to even consider zooming in for a friendly sting of any nearby humans?

Yet, the ultra-sweetness of clover honey has sometimes been a bit too much for me. Although a great fan of the Pooh Bear, I have not yet taken to eating honey straight out of the honey pot! Clover honey's sweetness sometimes seems to go overboard and masks the flavor of other, less-aggressive foods with which it is combined.

Today, that is not a problem. Even the little, squeezable honey-bear bottles now contain choices of honeys. Sage, lavender, eucalyptus and more -- the choice is simply amazing. My current honey of choice is sage. I can taste the pungent, earthy flavor of the sage on which those honey bees feasted. Within the honey itself, there is a lovely counterpoint component. Sweet honey sugar, lively sage directness.

As the holiday celebrations end, and I begin my recovery from the over-sugared territory of dread -- well no, actually I greatly enjoy sweet treats, but must maintain a bit of sanity in the process -- it is very pleasing to finish a meal with a somewhat-sweet, refreshing dessert. Plain yogurt, however rich or nonfat suits me at the time, becomes a lovely, satisfying dessert when topped with a small amount of sage honey. As a breakfast treat, it is equally tempting.

I discovered my sage honey at my local Whole Foods Market. As you can see from the photo above, the honey selection is awe-inspiring. Any day now, I expect to see the Pooh Bear there!