Sometimes, when things go wrong, it’s the best thing ever — as was the case a couple of weeks ago, when Mom and I discovered Fred’s Texas Cafe in Fort Worth.

We’d just been to the Modern, breezed past the Warhols, and afterwards, we were were both in the mood, turns out, for a big, fat cheeseburger. We went to our favorite burger joint, ordered up our usual burgers, and were so disappointed after one bite, that we left.

Lucky for us, Fred’s Texas Cafe, a Fort Worth institution and award-winning dive, was just a few blocks away. We took our seats on the duct-taped bar stools and ordered up half-pound Fredburgers with cheese and homemade fries, and were soon in burger heaven.

I lost track of the number of napkins needed to get through the whole burger (note the crispy, yet perfectly greasy bun), but get through it I did — and so did Mom.

Next time I’m in town, Mom says that we’re going to Fred’s again, and she’s gonna try the bleu cheese burger. Hmmm. Bleu cheese. Wonder why they haven’t thought of that here in Paris?

Fred’s Texas Cafe
915 Currie Street
Fort Worth, Texas
(817) 332-0083

Not long ago, I hopped on the TGV in Paris and zipped down to Agen, in the southwest of France, to visit American Kate Hill, who’s made a name for herself as the queen of Gascon cuisine, offering workshops for pros and ambitious home chefs who want to learn about one of France’s duckiest — and perhaps luckiest! — regions.

Located smack dab in the middle of Bordeaux and Toulouse, Gascony is unspoiled, rugged, and slightly wild — it is, after all, where the rascally non-royal king, Henri IV, came from — and it’s also the capital of all things canard (confit, cassoulet, fois gras, etc.).

In her fabulously restored 18th century farmhouse kitchen, Kate showed me how to cook, Gascon-style, and I wrote all about it for the April issue of Cowboys & Indians magazine — including her recipes for Pulled Pork, Caramel Apple Croustade, and White Bean and Sausage Chili — and we decided to do a little video on the last day, too.

We got so involved in our video-making and Armagnac-sipping that I missed my train (!), and had to stay another night, which I was actually quite happy about. I’m hoping to get back down to Camont, which is the little hamlet where she lives, this spring (OK, Kate? I’ll do dishes, tend the garden, anything!).

Here’s the little how-to that we did on how to barbecue, Gascon-style, and the recipes are below. For more about my visit with Kate, and her recipes, check out the current issue of Cowboys & Indians magazine, or pick up her cookbook, “A Culinary Journey Through Gascony: Recipes and Stories from My French Canal Boat” (Ten Speed Press).

Enjoy the show.

Gascon Wet Rub
“This is an easy way to infuse the flavors of the Southwest of France using Armagnac and fennel pollen, which is a lighter, more aromatic way to use fennel.” – Kate Hill

INGREDIENTS

¼ cup Armagnac (or Bourbon)
2 teaspoons fresh fennel pollen*
sea salt
pepper

WHAT YOU DO

1. Splash a bit of the Armagnac onto the pork chop and massage it in a bit. Do this on both sides.

2. Now rub in the fennel pollen, salt and pepper. 
Let marinate for 30 minutes or so, while the grill’s heating up.

*If you can’t find fennel pollen locally, go to www.earthy.com.

Miel de Poivre
“This is magic in a jar – a miracle sauce that will change your life. Drizzle it on top of meats, cheeses, and fruits.” – Kate Hill

INGREDIENTS

2 cups sugar
¾ cup water
2 handfuls black peppercorns
1 large lemon

WHAT YOU DO

1. With a vegetable peeler, zest the lemon and put the pieces of rind aside. Juice the lemon. Set aside.

2. In a medium-size saucepan, add the water and the peppercorns and bring to a boil. Then cook 5 more minutes.

3. Strain and reserve the peppercorns.

4. Add the sugar to the now dark-colored hot water, the lemon juice and rind pieces. Bring to a boil, stirring until the sugar is dissolved and the syrup is thick, about 5 minutes.

5. Now, add the peppercorns back to the syrup, and cook on low heat for another 5 minutes.

6. Remove from heat, bottle and enjoy!

Before I moved to Paris, I’d made lentils. Lots of times, in fact. I loved lentils, especially with a little splash of red wine vinegar on them right before serving. (How exotic! How daring I was!)

But I didn’t really know lentils. Not like I do now.

A few years ago, in the late fall, Xavier and I went to a little bistro in the 6th arrondisement and he ordered up lentils and sausage — the most plain Jane thing you could ever imagine– but it was absolutely divine.

These weren’t your ordinary flat, brownish lentils. Nosirreebob. They were the prized, green lentilles du Puy, the gold standard by which all other lentils are judged, and the very same lentils that my Gascony cowgirl buddy Kate Hill used for her Gascon-style lentils and sausage, that I wrote about awhile back (but did not fully explain the significance of, which I’m about to do right now).

The lowdown on the lentilles du Puy: grown in the Auvergne region in the middle of France, near the volcanic Le-Puy-en-Velay area, these babies have a distinct sweet flavor from the mineral-rich soil in which they’re grown. They also have less starch than ordinary lentils, which helps them keep their cute little shape oh so nicely.

Naturally, all of this goodness comes at a price – lentilles du Puy are AOC protected (like Champagne, Sancerre, and Roquefort), meaning that the government will smack down any other little green legume claiming its name – and they’ll set you back about twice that of ordinary lentils.

I’m here to tell you that they’re worth it. Find ‘em, buy ‘em, cook ‘em up, and you, too, will know true legume love.

These are a great veggie dish on their own, but also work as a great nesting spot for salmon, smoked sausage, or whatever else you’re in the mood for.

Cowgirl Lentils
Serves 8-10

INGREDIENTS

1 pound lentilles du Puy, rinsed
1 medium onion, 1/4-inch dice
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 medium carrots, 1/4-inch dice
1 stalk celery, 1/4-inch dice
1 16 oz can diced tomatoes in juice
1 teaspoon cumin
½ teaspoon ancho chile powder
32 oz water, chicken or vegetable stock
sea salt
pepper
olive oil

WHAT YOU DO

1. Drizzle a bit of olive oil in a heavy stockpot, add onions and garlic, and turn the heat to medium-low. Let cook until the onions become translucent, about 5-10 minutes.

2. Add carrots and celery, and let cook for about 5 minutes or until they just begin to soften.

3. Now add everything else, cover, and turn the heat up to medium. Cook until lentils are tender but not mushy, about 40-45 minutes.

Y’all may have noticed that I’ve been on a chocolate binge lately. First, there was the hot fudge sauce that I made from Maida Heatter’s “Book of Great Chocolate Desserts,” and then, in the name of research, I looked for my dad’s hot fudge recipe, and then ended up tweaking it and making up my own. In between, there was a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and before that, even, the chocolate souffles that I made on a Sunday afternoon. Just two days ago, I found myself at Angelina with my friend Catherine (because it was, after all, right across the street from the Louvre, where we’d spent the afternoon), ordering up the famous, pudding-like chocolat chaud (it’s so thick you can eat it with a spoon), served with a side of Chantilly cream.

I came down from that Angelina chocolat chaud high hard, because the next thing you know, I found myself needing more. Needing. I needed to double-up – no, triple-up — my chocolate intake. This is what happens with junkies, right?

Then it hit me — what about a double-chocolate cookie with some white chocolate thrown in, too?

So I dusted off the Ooey Gooey Double-Chocolate Cookies recipe that I found in the LA Times awhile back from Bret Thompson of Milk in Los Angeles, and pretty much followed what he suggested, but added the white chocolate chips in addition to the 66% Mexican origin Callebaut chocolate chips that I normally use.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, but just hold on a minute. I used Valrhona white chocolate, which is really lovely, so if you’re going to go the white chocolate route (and I say, come on along, there’s plenty of room on the bus), be sure and buy the best white chocolate you can find, which usually means Valrhona or El Rey.

As I put these cookies together, they seemed more brownie than cookie (note the tiny bit of flour), and I worried that my fussy, sometimes-too-hot, sometimes-too-cold French oven would turn these into pancakes. Mais non! They were absolutely perfect.

Soft and gooey, they are indeed rich and brownie-like, and when cool, have that lovely crispy edge that brownies have, too. Super-easy and so satisfying. Each and every one of them.

Triple Chocolate Cookies

Adapted from Bret Thompson of Milk’s Ooey Gooey Double-Chocolate Cookie recipe.

INGREDIENTS

¼ lb (4 ounces) unsweetened chocolate

4 tablespoons butter

3 eggs

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 cup sugar

½ cup flour

2 tablespoons cocoa powder

½ teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon sea salt

3 cups bittersweet chocolate (chunks or chips)

2 cups white chocolate

WHAT YOU DO

1. In a bowl set over a pot of simmering water, melt the unsweetened chocolate and butter. Remove from the heat and cool slightly.

2. In a large bowl, using a fork, combine the eggs, vanilla and sugar. Mix just until incorporated and set aside.

3. Sift together the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder and salt into a medium bowl. Set aside.

4. Add the melted chocolate to the egg mixture and mix just until combined. Stir in the sifted dry ingredients and mix just until combined, then stir in the bittersweet chocolate.

5. Cover the batter with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 hour to chill thoroughly. Heat the oven to 350 degrees.

6. Using a #24 scoop, make 16 cookie balls, and place them on the a greased, parchment-lined sheet pan, leaving 2 to 3 inches between each (these babies will spread).

7. Bake until the edges of the cookies are just set and the center is still soft, 10 to 12 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through. Cool on a rack.

If you find yourself in Paris, be sure to stop in for a hot chocolate at Angelina. It’s a killer.

226 rue de Rivoli

1st arrondisement

01-42-60-82-00

Metro: Tuilleries

Every Valentine’s Day, as long as I can remember, my mother made my favorite breakfast — French toast with a side of bacon – but on this day, she made it even better.

French toast hearts.

The food-is-love idea was a constant theme throughout my childhood, and in my life, which is probably why I fell instantly – and hard – for a Brit who loved to cook for me in my 20s, and when he took me to Paris for the first time to experience five-course dinners that started with champagne and ended hours later sipping eau-de-vie, how could I possibly not marry him?

When the relationship ended a few years later, I questioned what it all meant. What about the picnics outside of Beaune, en route to Paris on the way back from Provence? The handmade chocolates from Brugge that we’d haul back to Dallas in our suitcases? The ham and cheese crepes while walking along the Seine, the pates and cornichons, the crusty bread, the sole meuniere, the creme caramels, all of it?

Did it not mean anything?

I wondered. I pondered. And I decided that if food is love, and I still loved food, then I would go on to cook, and love – again – without him.

And I have.

I’m rambling, I guess, about love and food, because for me, the two are inextricably linked. There’s not always a great love in my life – or anyone’s right? – but there’s always great food, and for that, I’m always grateful. And on those rare occasions when I find myself in the kitchen with someone that I love, cooking and chopping together, I’m in that special happy place where I want to live forever. It’s moments like these that are right up there with French toast hearts on the love meter.

Show me a guy who owns a set of knives, and I’m weak-kneed already.

So without further adieu — and to perhaps stack the decks a bit — I’m offering up my aphrodisiac-packed Chipotle Guacamole with Toasted Pepitas, to my Twitter #letslunch bunch, along with all of the rest of you, to share with the ones you love.

But I’m warning you, this stuff is potent. The heat-packed chipotles will kick in your endorphins and stimulate nerve endings (yowza!), while the zinc-filled pepitas and allicin-rich garlic will give your blood a rush. As for the avocado, the name itself comes from the native Nahautl word, “ahuacatl,” which literally means testicle (the Spanish priests banned them because of their shape), plus, the folic acid, vitamin B and potassium is a great immune system-booster, which can never be a bad thing, right?

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone.

Here are some of the other get-your-motor-running recipes that the #letslunch bunch folks have posted. Bisous a tous!

BlogWellDone’s Asparagus and Avocado Salad

A Tiger in the Kitchen’s Teochew-Style Oyster Omelette

Showfood Chef’s Take-a-Bite-Take-a-Break Bedside Tray o’ Goodies

Serve It Forth’s Stuffed Oysters

Cosmic Cowgirl’s Pomme d’Amour Chicken Fricassee

Free Range Cookie’s Pumpkin Scones

Chipotle Guacamole with Toasted Pepitas

INGREDIENTS

4 avocados

1 medium tomato, 1/4-inch dice

1 clove garlic, minced

1-2 chipotle chile (in adobo), finely chopped

2 tablespoons cilantro, rough chopped

1 lime

sea salt

4 ounces pepitas, toasted

WHAT YOU DO

1. Cut avocado in half, remove seed and with each half, with a knife, make 1-inch slices lengthwise, and then across, creating a checkerboard pattern. Now scoop out the cubes into a medium bowl.

2. Add everything else — tomato, garlic, chipotle, cilantro, and juice of one lime — and taste. Now add salt to taste.

Serve with toasted pepitas sprinkled on top, lotsa chips, and margaritas, if you dare.

I had  the most incredible chicken fried steak a couple of months ago in Houston, at Lankford Grocery, which I read about in Jane and Michael Stern’s book, “500 Things to Eat Before It’s Too Late.” The H-town legend is known for its burgers, and I nearly ordered up one, but I simply couldn’t resist the urge to try the CFS since it was the special on the day that I visited.

Oh what a good idea! And it went so well with the Dr. Pepper that I’d ordered.

Eydie Lankford Prior told me that she made her CFS with an egg-buttermilk batter, some salt and pepper, and “Tony’s” (Tony Cachere’s Creole seasoning, it turns out), but I decided to leave out the egg and go for a slightly lighter crust. Not that I’m counting calories, as y’all know. (Do calculators even go that high?)

I made my CFS back in France, with a cut that’s similar to the American cube steak, which is what Eydie uses for hers, and it worked just fine. More than fine, in fact. That’s my CFS pictured above.

And PS. I know that I try to post stuff that’s both quick and easy, but this takes a bit of time – mainly the stirring of the gravy, and the complete hose-down of the kitchen when you’re finished. CFS isn’t for kitchen wimps. Just roll up your sleeves, get in there, and fry fry fry. And maybe we all need to post this, the Lankford Grocery’s Mission Statement, on our fridge when it’s CFS night: “We have nothing small, nothing healthy, and nothing fast.  We never give you a check, but that does not mean it’s free.  You pay at the register as you leave.  If you do not have 30 minutes to spend, you should try us another day.”

I love that. Enjoy the show.

Chicken Fried Steak with Peppery Cream Gravy
Serves 2

INGREDIENTS

2-8 oz. cube steaks, pounded a bit so they’re the same width
2 cups buttermilk
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon Tony Cachere’s Creole seasoning
1 teaspoon pepper
4 cups whole milk
1-2 cups vegetable oil

WHAT YOU DO
1. Pour the buttermilk into a medium bowl and submerge the steaks. I usually let them rest in the buttermilk for a half-hour or so, while I get everything else ready.

2. Now, coat the buttermilk-soaked steaks in the flour mixture, put it back in the buttermilk, and in the flour once more. Set aside.

3. In a large, heavy-bottomed skillet, pour enough vegetable oil to measure about 1/2-inch deep. Turn the heat on medium-high, and using a candy thermometer, watch for the oil to reach 365 degrees. (Note: You’ll want the temperature to stay here, and not dip below, or you’ll get greasy, soggy chicken fried steak.)

4. Fry the steaks, flipping them to the other side when the bottom looks cooked and crispy. (You’ll have to eyeball this; it all depends on the thickness of the steaks, but a 1-inch steak shouldn’t take more than 10-13 minutes total.)

5. With tongs, remove the steaks from the oil and place them on a plate lined with paper towels.

6. Make the gravy. Pour almost all of of the oil out of the skillet, leaving the brown bits (this will give your gravy lots of great flavor). Now, with the skillet turned on medium, sprinkle the leftover flour mixture into the pan and stir until all of the brown bits have lifted off of the surface, and the flour begins to brown. Add the milk and keep stirring briskly, so you don’t get lumps. Lower heat and stir constantly. It’ll take 10-15 to thicken up. Be sure taste before serving. It may need a bit more salt or pepper.

I don’t know what made me suddenly think, “I need a molasses cookie,” but once something like this pops into my head, there’s no stopping me.

As you might guess, this isn’t the sort of thing that my corner boulangerie is likely to carry — or even my neighborhood Starbucks, its glass cases filled with “American” coffee snacks such as pancakes (microwaved and served with syrup – seriously), donuts, and some pretty scary looking chocolate chip cookie imposters.

Thankfully, part-time Parisian and James Beard-award winning cookbook author Dorie Greenspan’s go-to book, “Baking,” was sitting right there, on my shelf — and on page 77 was the recipe that I was looking for.

When I emailed Dorie in New York to tell her that I’d been baking her Molasses Spice cookies and wanted to write about them, she  – as always — enthusiastically responded, saying, “I’m soooo glad you liked the cookies — I’m baking a batch now!”

Turns out, Dorie was baking cookies for the pop-up cookie store that she launched with her son Josh, Cookie Bar, which is open Monday, Feb. 8, through Saturday, Feb. 13, at Mizu on Park Ave. between 59th and 60th streets, in New York City. (If you’re in NY, go by, say hi, and buy a cookie or two for me!)

I’m thrilled for Dorie and The Kid, and can’t wait to hear more about the permanent location, which is supposed to open in New York sometime this year — but think that there’s really a much better spot for a place like this.

Um, on my street, right here in Paris. (Dorie, Josh, think about it, OK?)

In the meantime, I’ll keep baking.

This is Dorie’s recipe, which I changed ever-so-slightly — I didn’t have allspice, which she lists in hers, so I added nutmeg and cloves. Also, Dorie’s cookies are rolled in sugar, and I was in the mood for a sugar icing, so I made a Royal icing instead.

PS. These cookies are fabulous – chewy on the inside and crisp around the edges, they’re exactly what a cookie should be, texture-wise. And the taste? Oh my. Incredible. Addictive. Perfect with my afternoon coffee fix.

Molasses Spice Cookies

Generously adapted from Dorie Greenspan’s “Baking”

INGREDIENTS

2 ⅓ cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground ginger
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon nutmeg
½ teaspoon cloves
1 ½ sticks (3/4 cup) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup light brown sugar, packed
½ cup molasses (not blackstrap)
1 large egg
2 cups powdered sugar
2 egg whites
juice of 1/2 lemon

WHAT YOU DO

Preheat oven to 350.

1. Sift together all of the dry ingredients and set aside.

2. Beat the softened butter until smooth and fluffy. Add the brown sugar and molasses and beat for a couple of minutes. Now, add the egg and mix until combined, about 1 minute.

3. With the mixer on low speed, slowly add the flour. Be careful not to over mix.

4. Put the dough in a bowl and slip it into the fridge for an hour, at least.

5. When ready to bake, remove the dough, and make cookie balls using a #10 scoop, and put on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper, making sure to give them 2-3 inches to spread. Now, gently press down the tops of the balls, just a tiny bit. You’re ready to bake.

6. Make the Royal icing as the last pans of cookies bake. Simply mix two cups powdered sugar with two egg whites and the juice of half a lemon in a medium bowl until combined. You’ll want this to be thick and glossy. If it’s too thin, add more sugar. If it’s too thick, add a bit more lemon juice until you reach the right consistency.

These cookies bake for 12-14 minutes, until they’re mostly set around the edges and start to show cracks. Let these cookies cool completely on a rack, and once they’re cooled, drizzle with Royal icing.

When I first arrived in Paris three years ago, the movie “Ratatouille” was playing, and Xavier and I went to go see it one weekend at one of the theatres on the Champs-Elysees, just a few blocks away. This was way before I’d figured out that I had this crazy ol’ Cowgirl Chef alter ego rumbling around inside of me, but I instantly fell in love with this movie, and especially Remy, the rat who loved to cook.

Not long after we saw “Ratatouille,” as a surprise, Xavier got me a coffee mug with Remy popping out of it, and I’ve had my morning coffee out of this same mug every day since (Do y’all do that – have a special mug that you drink your coffee out of?). Even when things aren’t going so well, that silly mug makes me smile.

It’s the little things, right?

The other day, I was making a roast chicken for dinner, and thought, hmmm, roast. Roasted Ratatouille. Because everything’s better roasted, I think.

So I separately roasted all of the veggies, mixed them up together in a pot – and voila! – I had ratatouille. What’s nice about this is unlike regular ratatouille, where you cook everything together in a pot until it’s done, roasting means the veggies won’t be mushy.

Who wants soggy pants vegetables when you can have crispy critters?

Quick, easy, and – bonus – cheap (!) to make, this works as a side to just about anything, or as a light lunch or dinner with a spoonful of Greek yogurt, mixed up with some pasta and mozzarella, or thrown into a quiche or omelette.

Would be super-nice made on a grill (as most things would), but I know that y’all are tired of hearing me talk about the Paris grill gestapo, so I won’t go into that.

Roasted Ratatouille

INGREDIENTS

1 large eggplant, sliced in 1/2-inch rounds, then quartered

1 large red bell pepper, sliced in 1-inch pieces

1 large green bell pepper, sliced in 1-inch pieces

3 medium zucchini, sliced in 1/4-inch rounds

2 cloves garlic, peeled

1 small yellow onion, sliced in 1/2-inch chunks

1 14 oz can chopped tomatoes

½ teaspoon chipotle chile powder

½ teaspoon red pepper flakes

sea salt

WHAT YOU DO

Preheat oven to Broil.

1. Spread eggplant on one cookie sheet, and red bell pepper, onion and garlic on another (the eggplant will cook more quickly than the others). Put the zucchini on a separate cookie sheet, too.

2. Lightly drizzle olive oil and salt and pepper everything but the eggplant (it’s so sponge-like, I’d rather it not soak up any oil).

3. Working in batches if you have to (which I do, because my oven is so small), roast the veggies, and then put them in a large, heavy saucepan.

4. Add the tomatoes and spices, and cook just until warmed through, so the veggies don’t get mushy.

As I was reaching down for a box of lentilles du Puy in the Franprix the other day (and quickly, so I could secure the next place in line, in front the mink coat-wearing woman with the full basket who was closing in on my lead), I saw a big ol’ sack of split peas, right there, on the veeerry bottom shelf, just looking at me, all forlorn-like.

I thought to myself, Hmmm, I’ve got that hunk of bacon in the freezer that the cute, flirty blue-eyed butcher at the Ternes market gave me awhile back, and it would be the perfect thing to make that cheap-o sack of split peas sing, so I hastily threw the peas into my basket and snagged my place at the register. (Take that, Birkin bag lady!)

I made these in the slow cooker, and it’s just so dang simple that I wasn’t even thinking about posting this recipe — but when I played around and added some caramelized onions, and drizzled the hazelnut oil…and then, made the little Roquefort Breadsticks, I thought, yikes, I gotta tell everyone about this.

The caramelized onion/hazelnut/Roquefort threesome is a killer combo, and turns that old drab bowl of pea soup into something else altogether.

It sounds so fancy, doesn’t it? Perhaps — gasp — a little bit French. (I know. It’s starting to seep into my bones, the Frenchiness.) But listen, the peas take no time — I mean, no time at all — to put together. And the oil, that’s just the one and a half seconds it takes to drizzle, and the breadsticks, like the onions, take about 15 minutes. So I’m talking about nothing, really, time-wise, if you’ll just get these babies going at night, say before you start watching “Law & Order” and fall asleep by the third commercial, you can have this fabulous soup for lunch the next day.

Split Pea Soup with Caramelized Onions, Hazelnut Oil & Roquefort Breadsticks

Serves 6

INGREDIENTS

1 pound split peas, rinsed and picked over

1 medium onion, 1/4-inch dice

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 big hunk bacon or ham

sea salt

pepper

olive oil

1 medium onion, 1/4-inch dice

1 recipe Roquefort Breadsticks, recipe follows

hazelnut oil

WHAT YOU DO

1. In a medium skillet, drizzle a bit of olive oil and add the onions and garlic. Turn the heat on medium-high and cook until the onions begin to become translucent, about 5-10 minutes.

2. Put the onion-garlic mixture in a slow cooker, add the split peas, the hunk of bacon or ham, and cover with water by about 3 inches. Turn on low heat for 4 hours. (If not using a slow cooker, simply cook on the stovetop on low heat for about an hour.)

3. Drizzle a bit more olive oil in the skillet and cook the other onion until it’s golden brown. Remove these onions from the skillet, and save for the garnish.

To serve, spoon the soup in a shallow bowl, add some of the caramelized onions, and drizzle with hazelnut oil. Add a Roquefort Breadstick, too.

Cowgirl Tip: Lardons, bacon, or ham would be a nice garnish for this soup too, along with a swirl of creme fraiche.

Roquefort Breadsticks

Adapted from the Barefoot Contessa’s Cheese Straws recipe

INGREDIENTS

1 package puff pastry

4 ounces Roquefort , crumbled

cracked pepper

WHAT YOU DO

Preheat oven to 350.

1. Roll out the puff pastry onto a flat surface, and cover with bits of Roquefort. Give the pepper mill a pass over the dough, too.

2. Gently press the Roquefort crumbles and the pepper into the dough. With a pizza slicer, make as many strips as you can, about 1-inch wide. Twist them and lay them out on a greased cookie sheet or one that you’ve lined with parchment paper.

Bake for 10-12 minutes.

My dad didn’t cook on any sort of regular basis – that was solidly Mom’s domain – but he had a few specialties. There was always a jar of this strange-looking, thick gray stuff on the top shelf of the fridge, right behind the purple half gallon of milk with the smiling Elsie the cow– sourdough starter for those days that he wanted to make tangy loaves of bread, or occasionally, pancakes. In the summertime, he made bread and butter pickles with the cucumbers that he grew in his garden out back, and canned jalapenos, too, which we were grateful for throughout the year. He also made the best fried egg sandwiches in the world.

But my dentist dad, whose sweet tooth drove him to keep his own stash of Reese’s peanut butter cups high in the cabinet behind the cups and saucers, really excelled at making hot fudge sauce.

Usually late at night, long after the dinner dishes were put away, and often when I was studying for an exam, I’d hear a knock on the door, and Daddy would peek his head in and smile. “How about a hot fudge sundae?” he’s say.

Um, yeah. And down the stairs I’d go, taking the steps two at a time, trying to beat my brother to the kitchen. I loved Daddy’s late-night hot fudge sundaes because they were always a surprise — and special because he’d made them just for us. Even today, a couple of scoops of Blue Bell vanilla bean in a bowl covered with his thick, shiny chocolate sauce is my preferred dessert – and go-to comfort food when I’m feeling a bit homesick, or blue, or both.

Here in France, they fancifiy the idea by hiding the ice cream in little choux pastry puffs and calling them profiteroles. In Belgium, vanilla ice cream with hot fudge is known as a “Dame Blanche.”

Call it what you will, in whatever language you choose, it’s the same thing, isn’t it? Wherever in the world you happen to be, melty chocolate poured on top of vanilla ice cream satisfies.

Daddy’s recipe was straight from Craig Claiborne’s “The New York Times Cookbook,” and while there’s nothing wrong with this version, I tweaked this a bit – I cut the sugar and corn syrup in half, upped the cocoa and added some bittersweet chocolate, too.

Because, like scarves and boots, you can never have too much chocolate.

Daddy’s Hot Fudge Sauce

Adapted from Craig Claiborne’s “The New York Times Cookbook”

INGREDIENTS

¾ cup cocoa

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate

½ cup sugar

½ cup corn syrup

½ cup cream

3 tablespoons butter

1 teaspoon vanilla

WHAT YOU DO

In a heavy saucepan over medium-low heat, combine all of the ingredients except the vanilla extract. Cook and stir constantly until the mixture comes to a rolling boil. Remove from heat and add the vanilla.

Serve warm.

This sauce will keep for a week in the fridge (yeah, right).

To reheat, put chocolate sauce in a bowl over a saucepan of hot (not boiling) water, and let warm up again.