The first weekend of June was a long one for us: four hot days passed lazily in the south of Burgundy, where Rémi's mother showed me how to make choux (pronounced a bit like "shoe") - a French pastry I've been wanting to learn how to make for some time.
In coming from Paris, Rémi and I were naturally more interested in exploring the countryside that surrounds Reims than the city itself. Picturesque vineyards, curving roads and, according to one local, the first sunny weekend of the year, our weekend motorbike adventure was set to be a good one.
Served chilled, vichysoisse is creamy yet refreshing, satiating but not overly. It makes for a good starter in warmer months, and as a main if lunch proves to be too big or too late. It is can also be served warm, but I do like how it differs from the majority of soups in its simply being cold.
Last Christmas Rémi's family gave me a beautiful cookbook from Maison Ladurée. One of the simpler recipes in the book is the one for making financiers, little cakes best described as buttery pillows of almond goodness.
The Loire Valley. Nestled in west-central France, this lush stretch of greenery is where Rémi and I passed our spring vacation. As a holiday-goer you will find chateaux, vineyards, cathedrals, old cities, photogenic landscapes and hiking and cycling trails to occupy you from dawn til dusk.
This is my version of poulet à la provencale. Apparently there are many ways one can go about making it, but I think mine is quite loyal to the tradition of the dish. Anyway, its a bold, great tasting dish that reaps a lot in little time and with little effort!
I sometimes think it is assumed that, because I’m passionate about food and cooking, the culinary arts have been long-time preoccupations of mine. In brief, they haven’t. Growing up, I was a picky eater. From taste, texture, to temperature...
Have you heard of Menu Next Door? It's an initiative that kicked off in Brussels, last year, and has since spread to London and Paris. What Menu Next Door does is allow for foodies, home cooks and amateur chefs to share their culinary creations with their neighbours and friends. Pretty neat, huh?
I know that there’s a brisk breeze outside because fat green leaves are falling from the big ailanthus trees outside our apartment window. I know that the breeze is brisk because the leaves seem to almost be pulled from the trees’ grasp, plunging downward at a soft gradient.