I have a little problem. I'm addicted to cookbooks, food writing, recipe collecting, and cooking. I have a lot of recipes waiting for me to try them, and ideas from articles, tv, and restaurants often lead to new dishes. I started losing track of what I've done. So now I'm taking photos and writing about what I've prepared—unless it's terrible in which case I forget it ever happened.
The sunny colors and starburst pattern make it hard to believe this is the winter version of this tart. It’s from Dorie Greenspan’s Around My French Table. She discovered this tart at her friends’ bed-and-breakfast outside Dijon which is fitting because the tart is flavored with that region’s mustard. There’s Dijon as well as grainy mustard, or moutard a l’ancienne, in the custard, and they bring a brightness that’s unexpected but lovely. The original version of the tart was topped with either slices of big tomatoes or halved cherry tomatoes. I’ll have to wait a few months to try it that way, but I can imagine how good that will be too. When tomatoes aren’t in season, the tart can be topped as it is here with julienned pieces of carrots and leeks. I served this for Sunday brunch, but it would also be great for lunch or dinner with a little salad on the side.
The recipe in the book is written for a nine to nine and a half inch tart, but my round tart pan is eleven inches. I need more tart pans. To work with what I have, I did some quick math to scale up the ingredient quantities. To fit an eleven inch pan instead of a nine inch pan, all quantities need to be multiplied by one and a half. First, the tart shell was blind-baked and cooled. Meanwhile, the carrots and leeks were prepped. They were cut into skinny sticks and then steamed for a few minutes. Depending on how skinny you cut your vegetables, you’ll need to adjust the steaming time. Mine were pretty slim and became tender in the steamer in no time. A rosemary sprig was added while they steamed. Then, the vegetables were drained and patted dry. The custard was made with eggs, cream, Dijon mustard, grainy mustard, and salt and pepper. Dorie cautions you to taste before adding much salt since the mustards bring salt as well. And, you should taste for the mustard to be sure the flavor is strong enough and add more as needed. The custard was poured into the tart shell, and the carrots and leeks were arranged on top. A fresh sprig of rosemary was set on top before the tart went into the oven for about 30 minutes.
The custard takes some of the edge off the sharpness of the mustards, but their savoriness is unmistakable. It really worked to wake up the other flavors. And, those thin pieces of carrot and leek were tender enough after steaming to easily cut through them with a fork for each bite. It was perfect in its simplicity, and I’m glad there are two versions so I can make this year-round.
Only on very rare occasions does Kurt make meal suggestions. I suppose I’m lucky that most of the time he’s happy to partake in whatever meal I’m planning to concoct. So, it’s a bit of a surprise when he does mention something particular he’d like to have. A few weeks ago, he started talking about how we hadn’t gone out for pho in a long time and then suggested I should try making it or something similar. Since I probably won’t hear another food request from him for the next year, I jumped at the opportunity to deliver on this one. I remembered a soup from Dorie Greenspan’s Around My French Table that she describes as a mix of two of her favorite Vietnamese soups: pho ga which is a clear broth soup with noodles and la sa ga which is a curried coconut milk soup. She orders both frequently at Kim Lien in Paris. The combined soup in the book brings together the chicken broth, shredded meat, and noodles with coconut milk and lots of great flavors from lime, chiles, ginger, and spices. It’s easy to prepare since the chicken poaches in the broth and coconut milk of the soup, and while it’s cooking, you can ready the noodles and garnishes.
The first step of this soup is to make a spice packet with cilantro stems, star anise, coriander seeds, and peppercorns in some cheesecloth tied with kitchen twine. I always have cilantro in my herb garden in the fall, so I picked enough stems to use and saved the leaves for a garnish. The spice packet was added to a soup pot with chicken broth, coconut milk, finely chopped onion, sliced garlic, minced ginger, and some dried chiles. The mix was seasoned with fish sauce, a little brown sugar, and a pinch of salt. It was brought to a boil, and then boneless, skinless chicken breasts were added. The heat was reduced so the soup would simmer while the chicken cooked for about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, I cooked some rice vermicelli, grabbed some Thai basil leaves, also from my herb garden, cut some lime wedges, and opened the bottle of chile oil. Once the chicken was cooked through, it was removed from the soup, allowed to cool, and shredded. Just before serving, I tasted the soup and added lime juice and more fish sauce. To serve, I placed some noodles and chicken in each bowl, ladled the soup into the bowls, and added garnishes.
To store the leftover soup, it worked well to place the noodles, chicken, and soup in three separate containers. That way, the noodles didn’t absorb any more liquid from the soup, and the soup could be re-heated by itself. With the spices, aromatics, chiles, coconut milk, and all the great garnishes, this soup was big on flavor. It hit all the notes Kurt was looking for in a soup, and the noodles and chicken made it a substantial meal. Now, I wonder when he’ll have another special request and what it will be.
A recipe with smoked salmon is sure to grab my attention. So are ones with cute stacks of things made in mini versions. There were a lot of great ideas in Dorie Greenspan’s Around My French Table, but these savory waffles were first on my list of things to try. There are two ways you could go with these waffles. You could make whole waffles, cut them into quarters, top them as you please, and serve them in one, single layer. They’d be great as small bites for a cocktail party. Or, as I did, you can make mini waffles by just placing a spoonful of batter in the center of each waffle square assuming you’re using a square waffle maker. Then, the mini waffles can be topped and stacked into towers for brunch. The toppings here are creme fraiche, smoked salmon, and chopped chives, but in the book, salmon roe is also shown as an optional topping. You could get creative and use these as vehicles for all kinds of things though. For instance, the pate de jardin made by Kocurek Family Charcuterie that I brought home from the farmers’ market was another delicious thing to set atop these waffles. The batter for them was made with chopped green onions, chives, and smoked salmon in it, so the savory flavors ran through each bite.
Making the batter was as easy as it always is for any pancake or waffle. Flour, baking powder, salt, and pepper, in this case, were whisked together. In a separate bowl, milk, eggs, and melted butter were combined and then added to the dry ingredients. Everything was stirred together but just barely. As usual, some lumps are fine. Last, chopped smoked salmon, green onions, and chives were folded into the batter. I heated my waffle maker, and mine happens to make kind of big dents in waffles rather than little, dainty ones. In this case, a daintier dent might have been nicer, but mine worked well enough. When the machine was hot, I spooned a bit of batter into the center of each of the four waffle squares. They cooked for the usual amount of time which for my machine is about six minutes. When they were all done, I stacked three mini waffles per serving with creme fraiche and more smoked salmon between each layer.
There’s enough butter in these waffles to give them good, rich flavor which fit well with the salty, savoriness of cured salmon. Salmon, chives, and creme fraiche is a mix that works every time. Sweet, syrup-covered waffles are a welcome treat at brunch too, but having a buttery, crisp waffle without the sugar was a fun change of pace. One other suggestion from the book was to offer these with various toppings in a build-your-own setup for a party. I like that idea too, and I’m already thinking of more topping ideas.
. She discovered this tart at her friends’ bed-and-breakfast outside Dijon which is fitting because the tart is flavored with that region’s mustard. There’s Dijon as well as grainy mustard, or moutard a l’ancienne, in the custard, and they bring a brightness that’s unexpected but lovely. The original version of the tart was topped with either slices of big tomatoes or halved cherry tomatoes. I’ll have to wait a few months to try it that way, but I can imagine how good that will be too. When tomatoes aren’t in season, the tart can be topped as it is here with julienned pieces of carrots and leeks. I served this for Sunday brunch, but it would also be great for lunch or dinner with a little salad on the side.
, but these savory waffles were first on my list of things to try. There are two ways you could go with these waffles. You could make whole waffles, cut them into quarters, top them as you please, and serve them in one, single layer. They’d be great as small bites for a cocktail party. Or, as I did, you can make mini waffles by just placing a spoonful of batter in the center of each waffle square assuming you’re using a square waffle maker. Then, the mini waffles can be topped and stacked into towers for brunch. The toppings here are creme fraiche, smoked salmon, and chopped chives, but in the book, salmon roe is also shown as an optional topping. You could get creative and use these as vehicles for all kinds of things though. For instance, the pate de jardin made by 
