Around My French Table (30 page)

Mushroom Tortilla
. Cook ½ pound cremini mushrooms, trimmed and sliced, 1 large spring onion or 1 medium yellow onion, chopped, and 2 minced garlic cloves (split and germ removed) in 2 tablespoons olive oil until the mushrooms are cooked through. Add ⅓ cup minced herbs (parsley, chives, thyme, and rosemary), let cool slightly, and then stir into the eggs; omit the potatoes. Proceed as directed.

Spinach–Green Onion Tortilla.
Trim and wash 10 ounces spinach. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Drop the spinach into the boiling water and blanch for 2 minutes, then drain and transfer to a bowl of cold water and ice cubes to set the color. Pull the spinach out of the bowl and, working in batches, squeeze it between your palms. Coarsely chop the spinach. Cook 2 large spring onions or 2 bunches scallions, sliced, and 2 minced garlic cloves (split and germ removed) in 2 tablespoons olive oil for 3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, add the spinach, and cook for 1 minute more; let cool slightly, then stir into the eggs; omit the potatoes. Proceed as directed.

C
ALLING THIS DISH A TARTINE,
or open-faced sandwich, might stretch the nomenclature given that it's roasted eggplant that stands in for the traditional toasted bread, but I'm doing it in the service of good eating. I'm also following the example of Frédérick Grasser-Hermé, one of France's most creative cooks and the woman who first served me eggplant as a tartine. Inspired by her ingenuity, I created this version, which I've come to think of as slightly Italianate. Here the eggplant is cut into rounds (a little like bruschetta) and topped with a vinegary salsa of chopped tomatoes, capers, and olives (rather like caponata). However, I finish my tartine just as Frédérick did, with thin slices of crunchy cucumbers, a completely unexpected and delightful addition.

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with a silicone baking mat, parchment, or nonstick aluminum foil.

Using a vegetable peeler, working from top to bottom, cut away strips of the eggplant's peel at 2-inch intervals. Cut off the top and bottom of the eggplant and cut the eggplant crosswise into 6 slices, each about 1 inch thick. Put the slices on the lined baking sheet and brush each slice with about 1 teaspoon of the olive oil. Season lightly with salt and pepper, and roast the slices for about 45 minutes, or until they are tender all the way through—test with the tip of a knife—and lightly browned. Cool the eggplant on the baking sheet.

Using a mandoline or a Benriner slicer, the slicing blade of a box grater, or a knife, thinly slice the cucumber.

In a large bowl, toss together the tomatoes, celery, onion, garlic, olives, capers, and oregano. Whisk together the vinegar and 1 tablespoon of the olive oil. Pour this dressing over the vegetables, and toss well. Season with the red pepper flakes and salt and pepper.

Arrange the eggplant on plates or a platter, and spoon the tomato salsa over it. Toss the cucumber slices with a drizzle of olive oil, strew them over the tartines, and sprinkle the cucumber with a little salt.

MAKES 6 SERVINGS

SERVING
Even though the eggplant is playing the role of bread in this dish, it's nice to have a basket of sliced baguette on the table—you'll want something to sop up the last drop of juice on the plate.

STORING
You can roast the eggplant a few hours ahead and keep the slices at room temperature or refrigerate them. If you'd like, you can serve the eggplant cold, or you can bring it to room temperature. And you can mix the salsa ahead of time, adding everything except the vinegar, salt, and oregano—save those for the last-minute toss. However, once the tartines are assembled, they're best served soon so the eggplant doesn't get soggy.

I
F THERE WERE A COMPETITION BETWEEN
French and American convenience foods, I'm pretty sure that the French would win. It's hard to compete with readily available all-butter puff pastry, pâte brisée, and sweet tart dough, as well as frozen potato pellets that make fabulous mashed potatoes in minutes, prepared crepes, and chestnuts (whole, pureed, frozen, bottled, and canned). But there's one thing that France doesn't have that we do: canned pumpkin! It's something that really surprises me, since the French are fond of pumpkin, as well as pumpkin's many cousins in the squash family. So, without canned pumpkin, determined French cooks roast or boil the hard-skinned vegetable, puree it, dry it by quickly stirring it around in a hot pan, and then transform it into dishes like this one, rich, custardy individual flans speckled with Gorgonzola and topped with a few chopped walnuts.

The effort needed to start from scratch would be worth the goodness of these flans, but, in fact, all you've got to do is open a can of pumpkin, whir a few things together in a food processor, and slide the flans into the oven. Easy.

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Butter six custard cups—I use Pyrex cups with a capacity of 6 ounces—or ramekins, and choose a roasting pan that's large enough to hold the cups comfortably. Line the bottom of the pan with a double layer of paper towels and put the custard cups in the pan. Put a kettle of water on to boil.

Put the pumpkin, eggs, yolks, and cream in a food processor (or use a blender) and whir until well blended. Season with salt and pepper, and pour the custard into the cups. Divide the Gorgonzola among the flans and poke the cheese into the custard a little bit, just to distribute it. Sprinkle the tops of the flans with the walnuts. Pour enough hot water into the roasting pan to come halfway up the sides of the cups.

Bake the flans for 35 to 40 minutes, or until a knife inserted into one comes out almost clean. (Depending on the size and height of your cups, you may need more or less time, so start checking at 25 minutes.) Because you're going to let the flans sit in the water bath, they'll continue to cook, so it's better to err on the side of underbaked. Transfer the roasting pan to a rack and let the flans cool in their water bath to just-warm or to room temperature.

Top with crème fraîche or sour cream, if you like.

MAKES 6 SERVINGS

SERVING
I serve these in their cups, but if you want to unmold them, you can—carefully. Run a blunt knife around the edges of the custards, dip the cups into a hot water bath, and turn each flan out onto a small plate. If you unmold the flans, you might want to accompany them with a very lightly dressed herb or baby spinach salad. In true French style, you can serve the flans with a dollop of crème fraîche (or sour cream). The American in me likes to drizzle the teensiest bit of honey or maple syrup over the cream or directly over the flans.

STORING
The flans are best served the day they are made, but they can be kept, lightly covered, at room temperature for about 6 hours before serving.

W
HAT COULD BE BETTER THAN COMBINING
two of life's great culinary pleasures, crème brûlée and cheese? It's a double serving of voluptuousness, and you don't have to wait for dessert to get it. This recipe is essentially a crème brûlée, but you omit the sugar in the classic cream-and-egg-yolk base and dot the bottom of the ramekins with tiny cubes of cheese that melt and give the custard an even more velvety texture and, of course, a slightly salty tang. Then, instead of finishing the crème with a sugary crust, you sprinkle the top with grated cheese that bubbles, toasts, and browns when brûléed.

This is an elegant starter, the kind that you'd be served in a stylish restaurant, but it's also one that is easily within the reach of any home cook. In fact, because the dish needs to be made ahead, it's ideal for dinner parties: at serving time, all you've got to do is give the topping its final toasting. The best tool for this is a mini propane torch—it does the job fast and gives you the most even finish—but you can melt the cheese and get a nice crust using your broiler.

I like to use a combination of cheeses for this dish, my favorite being Parmesan and Comté. However, since Comté is difficult to find in the United States (and very expensive once found), my American version is Parmesan and cheddar—it may sound like a compromise, but it doesn't taste like one.

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 200 degrees F. Butter six shallow ramekins. It's important that they be shallow: you want a custard layer that's only ¾ inch thick (my ramekins are 4 inches across and 1 inch high and hold ½ cup). Line a baking sheet with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper, and place the ramekins on the sheet.

Cut 3 ounces of the cheese into teensy cubes and divide the cubes evenly among the ramekins. Wrap and refrigerate the rest of the cheese to firm it up for the grating that you'll do later.

Pour the cream and milk into a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Meanwhile, in a medium bowl, vigorously whisk the yolks with the nutmeg and salt and white pepper to taste. Whisking without stopping, dribble a little of the hot cream and milk into the eggs. Continue to whisk and dribble until you've incorporated about a quarter of the liquid and then, still whisking, pour in the remainder in a slow, steady stream. When everything is blended, rap the bowl on the counter a few times to get rid of the bubbles. (If rapping doesn't de-bubble your mixture, spoon off and discard the bubbles.) Divide the custard evenly among the ramekins.