Cowgirlchef

End of Summer Salad

epierce — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 05:50:23 +0000

Truth is, I’m not ready to write this post. For summer to be in my rear view mirror, getting smaller by the minute. (Rhubarb, we spent so little time together. You left without saying a proper goodbye, which I must tell you, I felt was quite rude. Strawberries, cherries, peas, tiny girolles, for God’s sake, DON’T GO! Not yet. Please. I’m begging y’all.)

Last week, at President Wilson Market, I bought nectarines and peaches, and paid dearly for them, too –8 euros — for two of each. I know what this means. It’s over for them, too.

Sigh.

So, I must let go. Let go and let fall, well, fall upon us.

In the spirit of saying au revoir to what has been my juiciest, fruitiest and veggiest summer ever, I threw together this little salad the other night. One overpriced peach, a couple of beautiful tomatoes, an avocado, along with some of the cute goat cheese man’s wonderful chevre, and, voila, I had salade. With each bite, I said goodbye – until next year.

Today, I’m off to the market in anticipation of returning with a full lime green wheely cart of the goodies that I’ll find. I know that the beautiful, oh-so-sweet Reine Claudes are here, and so are the lovely yellow mirabelles..and I saw the first potimarrons and cepes the other day, which I’m very excited about. Also, figs. I think that I’ll find some lovely figs today.

Oh how I love figs!

End of Summer Salad

INGREDIENTS

1 large avocado
2 medium tomatoes (I used one red and one green zebra)
1 large peach
125 grams/4.5 oz fresh chevre
6-8 leaves fresh basil, torn
appx 2 tablespoons almonds, toasted
splash sherry vinegar
drizzle olive oil
pinch sea salt
pinch pepper

Chop the avocado, tomatoes, and peach into pieces roughly the same size and put in a medium bowl. Add just a splash of sherry vinegar and olive oil, the pinch of salt and of pepper and very gently toss. Taste for seasonings and when ready to serve, add the chevre, toasted almonds, and torn pieces of basil. Looks so much prettier that way.

Zucchini and Chevre Ravioli with Cilantro-Mint Pesto

epierce — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 06:09:24 +0000

I may have mentioned this before, but I left my pasta maker back in Dallas, and since I’ve been in Paris, I’ve not made one single strand of spaghetti, much less ravioli, by hand.

Sad, I know.

Not that I haven’t considered buying another pasta maker, but when I saw the price at BHV, our go-to-for-everything store – around 90 euros for one just like the mine, still resting in a box in my tiny Public Storage unit near White Rock Lake — I just couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Besides, it’s not that hard to find homemade pasta — there are two Italian stands at President Wilson Market and another little Italian grocer on the street with my favorite butcher.

But sometimes you just want to make ravioli yourself.

The other day, I was in Tang Freres near Porte de Vanves, a smaller, more manageable place to shop than the madhouse of a superstore in the 13th, and along with some Thai curry paste, fresh ginger, cilantro, tofu and avocados, I grabbed this package of won ton wrappers — which I figured would be the perfect thing to wrap some roasted zucchini and goat cheese in for a little impromptu ravioli dinner.

Oh sweet synchronicity!

With the ravioli dough-making out of the way, I freed up all sorts of time. I just mixed up the roasted zucchini with the goat cheese along with a couple of other ingredients, and spooned it onto the won ton wrappers — see how easy and fun?

Then, I just mixed up the pesto, and shoved it all in the fridge until dinnertime.

It’s the sort of thing that you can make early in the day, as I did, and pull out when you’re ready to eat. All you have to do is boil the water.

And pour the vin. No instructions needed on that, right?

Zucchini and Chevre Ravioli with Cilantro-Mint Pesto

Makes 16 ravioli (serves 2)

INGREDIENTS

2 large zucchini
2 tablespoons olive oil
½ teaspoon sea salt
½ teaspoon pepper
1 cup fresh chevre (goat cheese)
½ teaspoon chives
¼ teaspoon lemon zest
32 sheets won ton wrappers
flour, for dusting
cilantro-mint pesto, recipe follows

Turn the oven to Broil.

1. Roast the zucchini. Cut the zucchini in 2-inch strips, about the size of an asparagus spear, and lay out on a parchment-lined cookie sheet. Drizzle the two tablespoons of olive oil over the zucchini, and sprinkle just a bit of sea salt and pepper. Pop into the oven and watch carefully – this shouldn’t take more than 5 – 10 minutes. Remove the zucchini and let cool before slicing them into a small dice.

2. In a medium bowl, put 2 cups of the diced zucchini, the 1 cup of goat cheese, chives, and lemon zest. Stir gently until well combined. Grab a glass of water and a small brush. You’ll need it to seal the edges of the ravioli.

3. Working in batches, lay out 8 ravioli wrappers on a flat, lightly floured surface. With the small brush, dip it into the water, and brush water along the periphery about 1 inch. Put approximately 1 tablespoon of the zucchini-goat cheese mixture in the center of each one, and put another wrapper on top of each. Gently press the top wrapper down, pressing out as much air as you can. This should easily stick to the wet bottom wrapper, but if it doesn’t for some reason, just hit the edges with the brush again, and make sure it’s sealed up. Lay these ravioli on a parchment-lined cookie sheet that’s also been lightly dusted with flour so they don’t stick. When finished, slide the cookie sheets into the oven until you’re ready for dinner.

4. Put a large pot of water onto boil, and add a bit of sea salt. When it boils, gently add the ravioli, and watch carefully – these are so thin, they’ll only take about 2 minutes to heat through. Using a slotted spoon, remove them from the water and onto two plates. Spoon a bit of the cilantro-mint pesto on each one. Now. Wasn’t that fun?

Cowgirl Tip: If you have any leftover zucchini, just pop in the fridge and mix in with some scrambled eggs the next day. Got tortillas? Breakfast taco!

Cilantro-Mint Pesto

INGREDIENTS

appx 3 tablespoons cilantro, chopped
appx 1 tablespoon mint, chopped
1 teaspoon shallots, minced
¼ cup Parmesan , shredded
½ teaspoon lemon zest
¼ cup olive oil
sea salt
pepper

Put all ingredients in a bowl or jam jar and stir or shake to combine. Taste for salt and pepper. Put in fridge for a few hours before using.   You may also make this in a food processor, but the clean-up’s easier if you make it by hand.

Cowgirl Tip: Be sure and make this a few hours before you want to use it, so the flavors will come together.

Salmon-Lentil Salad

epierce — Fri, 27 Aug 2010 17:29:43 +0000

Continuing this summer’s theme of keeping the oven in “OFF” position as much as possible, I came up with this little number, a super-simple, tres Frenchy way to eat salmon.

Here’s what happened: I’d made the lentils a day before, and they were hanging out in the fridge, just waiting for something to come along and jazz them up. Enter salmon — I consider myself lucky to have a fish guy that sets up at the St. Didier market every Saturday, and sells super-fresh fish, and at a reasonable price, which is always a bonus in my Birkin/Goyard totin’ quartier. (Remember, I’m the one in beat-up cowboy boots, with a hemp Whole Foods/London bag slung over my shoulder.)

All I did was cook up the salmon, let it cool, and make the dressing. About 15 minutes, tops.

Despite the heat that we’ve had around here, I’m really enjoying the challenge of cooking in a different way. Without the benefit of an A/C, I’m constantly thinking of what sorts of foods will be cool, light, and tasty, too. This scores high in all three categories — or as X likes to say when he takes a bite of something new and likes it instantly, “Winner!”

Salmon-Lentil Salad

Serves 2

INGREDIENTS
2 pieces of appx 130gram/4.5 oz salmon filets, with skin
2 tablespoons olive oil
¼ teaspoon sea salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
680 grams/3 cups cooked lentils du Puy, recipe follows
125 grams/4.5 oz fresh brebis or chevre
1 medium tomato, chopped in large chunks
4 leaves basil
2 ounces toasted pine nuts (for garnish; optional)
Noisette vinaigrette, recipe follows

Preheat oven to broil.

1. Rinse and pat dry the salmon, and put about 1 tablespoon of olive oil on each, making sure to evenly coat (and include the skin). Place on a parchment-lined cookie sheet, salt and pepper, and slide into the oven. Watch this carefully — it’ll only take 7-10 minutes to cook, depending on the thickness of your salmon. When it’s cooked, just let it cool, with a little foil tent on top if you’d like for it to stay a bit warm.

2. Assemble the salad. Spoon 1 1/2 cups lentils in a shallow bowl. Flake the salmon on top of the lentils, then add pieces of the brebis or chevre, the tomatoes, the basil and the pine nuts. Drizzle a bit of the vinaigrette over it all and serve.

Note: I like this best cold, as a summer dish, but you could serve it warm, too.

Lentils

INGREDIENTS

500 grams (1 pound) lentils du Puy, rinsed
½ medium white onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
32 oz water
2 tablespoons olive oil

1. Drizzle olive oil in a medium stockpot, add the chopped onion and minced garlic, and turn the heat onto medium and cook until the onion becomes translucent, 5-10 minutes. Add the lentils and water and cook until it boils. Cover, and cook for 45 minutes, or until the lentils become soft, but not mushy. Be sure to check the lentils every now and then as they cook – you may need to add a bit more water as they cook.

2. When the lentils are cooked, let them cool and then put in a container in the fridge until you’re ready to eat them.

Noisette Vinaigrette

INGREDIENTS

⅓ cup sherry vinegar
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon minced shallots
pinch sea salt
pinch pepper
⅓ cup olive oil
⅓ cup noisette (hazelnut) oil

1. Put everything but the olive oil and noisette oil in a jar (I always use old jam jars for my dressings) and shake until combined.

2. Add oil, shake again, taste, and adjust for seasonings if necessary.

Coco Beans

epierce — Wed, 25 Aug 2010 06:39:47 +0000

Wrapped in unappealing skins that are more yellowish than green, and splashed with speckles in colors ranging from pink to brown, French Cocos aren’t the prettiest of the lot at the neighborhood marche. In fact, if you didn’t know what sort of deliciousness was inside, you’d probably walk right past them, as I did for the first year or two that I was here, I’m embarrassed to admit.

I’ve never tasted a bean like the Coco. Buttery. Melt-in-your-mouthy. Less like legumes and more like bean bon bons, filled with their own creamy, beany ganache. Delicate and elegant, Cocos are the swan of beans emerging from the ugliest of wrappers.

Am I waxing on too much?

Perhaps.

Officially known as “Le Coco de Paimpol,” with a protected A.O.C. status like other culinary superstars here, such as Roquefort and lentilles du Puy, these fat little beans have been grown in Brittany since a French soldier brought the seeds back from Latin America in 1928. During World War II, when much of the country was starving, the Coco turned up on many dinner tables, and saved the day — ta da!

Cocos are found in the hearty winter dish, cassoulet, or otherwise topped with some sort of chunk of meat – chicken, lamb, or pork — or eaten like I sometimes do, just on its own.

Like my other much-loved legume, the black-eyed pea, the Coco doesn’t need much help. Just a ham bone, some garlic and onion, a few bay leaves, and , at the end, a bit of fresh rosemary (which was absolutely genius, if I do say so myself). Then, eat however you’d like, as as often as you can.

I just made another big batch yesterday, and I’m having them with cornbread for dinner.

Please don’t tell black-eyed peas.

Coco Beans

INGREDIENTS

2 kilos/4 pounds unshelled coco beans
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic
1 large ham bone
3 bay leaves
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
sea salt
pepper

Shell the cocos and give them a quick rinse.

In a large pot, drizzle the 2 tablespoons olive oil and add the onion and garlic. Turn the heat on medium-high, and cook until the onions become translucent, about 5-10 minutes. Add the cocos, enough water to cover by 3 inches, the ham bone and bay leaves. Cover, bring to a boil, then lower heat and let cook just until beans are cooked through, about 20 minutes — watch them carefully, because they’ll break if they’re overcooked.

When cooked, turn off heat and add rosemary springs. Let cool. Remove rosemary, bay leaves, and ham bone, and if you need salt and pepper, add it now. Like most beany dishes, this is better the next day.

Mocha Sherbet

epierce — Mon, 23 Aug 2010 06:46:47 +0000

Cows on the beach! Reading “I love yoouuuu!” in French.

I love this glass.

Normally, I buy the good Maille mustard at the stinky stinky Franprix, but when I saw these little cartoon cow glasses, filled with the most cheapo mustard on the shelf, I couldn’t resist. So I bought two. Sometimes I drink wine out of them because they make me smile. I also use them for ice cream and other cold things, like this super-fabulous mocha sherbet, a recipe that I saw on Saveur.com not long ago, and then realized I already had in David Lebovitz’s book, The Perfect Scoop.

My pal, Lisa, who lives in Austin and posts the most amazing recipes on her blog, Lisa is Cooking, saw the recipe, too, and tweeted about it, so we both decided that we should make the Mocha Freeze — which is what you get when you take this recipe, and blend it with some coffee, sugar and ice (and post a beautiful photo, like she did). I was going to make this, too, really I was, but I ended up eating almost all of the sherbet, and this little bit in the cow glass was all that there was left, so I figured that I’d better take a photo — and eat it — before it was all gone.

I hadn’t made a mocha or chocolate sherbet before, and I didn’t know if I was going to like it, because there’s not that much milk in the recipe – but whooboy, if you like chocolate (and I do), then this is just the thing for the hot days of summer. Do you see how dark this sherbet is? The color of tar. That’s chocolatey goodness, through and through.

Five moos. (Mocha sherbet, Je t’aimeuuu!)

Mocha Sherbet

Adapted from David Lebovitz’s “The Perfect Scoop”

INGREDIENTS

560 ml/2 1/2 cups strong coffee or espresso (I used French press)
150 grams/3/4 cup sugar
50 grams/6 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
¼ teaspoon cinnamon (I added this to cowgirlify – I love chocolate and cinnamon together)
pinch salt
180 ml/3/4 cup whole milk

In a medium sauce pan, over medium heat, whisk together all of the ingredients except the milk. Let it come to a boil, and after 30 seconds, remove from heat, and stir in the milk. Let cool and put in the fridge. When ready, freeze in your ice cream maker.

Mexican Pita Pizza

epierce — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 09:40:52 +0000

Last week, I worked up a menu for my Cowgirl Chef column for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram focusing on after-school snacks that kids could make themselves, and this Mexican Pita Pizza was one of the recipes that I came up with — but without the salmon, goat cheese, and chives. When I had some leftover salmon from a dinner party and some pita bread leftover from recipe testing, I made this grown-up version.

Super-easy, y’all. Just refried black beans (I like the texture of beans so I don’t puree them, I simply smash them with an old-fashioned potato masher), salsa, fresh goat cheese and already cooked salmon, finished with some snipped chives — but you could use cilantro instead, and I probably would, if I’d had some on hand. A little chopped avocado wouldn’t be too bad here, either.

What I really, really like about this is, besides the wonderful flavor of black beans and salmon (which may sound weird, but is tres good), is the lightening-fast cooking time. Just two minutes (seriously – set your timers or it’ll burn) to toast the pita in the oven; then less than 30 seconds to warm up the cheese so it’s a bit melty.

See how crispy that bread is? Totally like a pizza crust that you’d find pulled out of your favorite pizzeria — in Rome.

It’s not as strange as it sounds — the word, pizza came from pita, anyway.

For the kid-friendly version of this recipe, plus other after-school snacks, check out my most recent column in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram.

Mexican Pita Pizza

INGREDIENTS

1 piece pita bread (unsliced and left whole)
½ cup refried black beans (you may use canned or make your own)
1-2 tablespoons salsa (jarred or make your own)
115 grams/2 oz. fresh chevre
60 grams/4 oz. cooked salmon
Cilantro or chives for garnish (optional)
Avocado for garnish (optional)

Preheat oven to Broil.

In a small skillet or saucepan, over medium-low heat, gently warm the beans, stirring frequently so they don’t stick. Once warmed through, turn off the heat.

Now, pretoast the pita. Put pita bread directly on rack of the oven or toaster oven, and set timer for 30 seconds. When buzzer goes off, using your long tongs and flip the pita bread over to the other side. Set timer again, but watch carefully – this side may take less than 30 seconds.

Remove from oven, and put the hot, crispy pita “crust” on a cookie sheet, and carefully smear the ½ cup of refried beans all over the surface. Now add the 1-2 tablespoons of salsa, and the goat cheese.

Slide the entire cookie sheet into the oven and set the timer for 1 minute only. Again, watch carefully, because you’re just melting the cheese.

Add the salmon to the pizza, the chives or cilantro, and avocado if you’ve got it, and voila! – you’ve got dinner.

Cucumber-Tomato Salad

epierce — Sun, 15 Aug 2010 12:52:26 +0000

I didn’t have any grand notions when putting this salad together, other than using up the big ol’ cucumber that I had in the fridge drawer and the two ripe tomatoes leftover from my trip to the market a few days ago (from Joel Thiebault’s “Summer Collection/2010″ – and at a price of 9 euros a kilo, I expected them to come in monogrammed felt drawstring sacks). I thought that it would be okay, but really wasn’t too focused on this other than being, you know, a side. It was almost an afterthought, I’m embarrassed to admit.

Which just goes to show you. Good, simple produce speaks for itself, and is never dull, never boring, and always fantastic. In this case, the combo of cukes and tomatoes, with basil and fresh chevre from the tres cute cheese man at the market was sublime. I just added a splash of sherry vinegar and a drizzle of olive oil, and that was it.

X ate plateful after plateful and went on about how these tomatoes reminded him of his summer vacations in Nice and in Greece. I told him that my summers were more of the Port Aransas, Texas variety, which meant beach picnic lunches of Fritos and bean dip, and sandwiches made with New Braunfels sausage and German-style mustard.

Sometimes (often) I complain about the high price of some things (everything) here, but when it comes to food, I just open my wallet until it’s empty. Sure, it’s crazy to think that tomatoes could cost so much, but if they can evoke such great memories, then, in my book, they’re priceless.

Note: For two other great ways to use cucumbers this summer — Cucumber-Avocado Gazpacho and Cucumber-Fennel Slaw — please check out my recent column for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram.

Cucumber-Tomato Salad

Serves 2-4

INGREDIENTS

1 large cucumber, peeled and seeded
2 large tomatoes
few leaves basil
splash sherry vinegar
splash olive oil
sea salt
pepper
125 grams/4.5 oz fresh chevre

Cut the cucumber and tomatoes in nice bite-size pieces of about 1-inch. Put in a bowl, add salt and pepper, and let this sit for about a half hour or so. Before serving, add a bit of sherry vinegar and olive oil, toss and taste. If the flavors are balanced, then go ahead and top with the fresh chevre and basil, and serve.

Watermelon Granita

epierce — Fri, 13 Aug 2010 06:33:43 +0000

Doesn’t this look bad? I mean good because it’s so bad – sugary, creamy, and hip-enlarging?

Gotcha.

It’s so not. Wait a minute. It is good, but it’s not bad. You follow?

What we’ve got here is the result of my panic when X brought home a watermelon (that’s pasteque to you Frenchies), and I was really not in the mood for doing anything much with it — I would have made a watermelon salad with feta, but I didn’t have the Kalamatas that I really love, and didn’t feel like taking the #52 bus down to the Greek restaurant in Passy where I usually buy them.

Sloth and laziness. The mother and child of invention.

So I had watermelon, and some mint, and a blender. A few whirrs later, and I poured this into a container, and shoved it in the freezer. That afternoon, a few scrapes of the dinner fork later, the pink liquid transformed into watermelon granita, an icier, fancier version of its former self.

I spooned it into a fat little glass, as you can see here, but thought that it needed an extra something, and that something needed to be Greek yogurt — in this case, tricked out with a bit of sugar and vanilla.

But not too much. It is still swimsuit season.

It’s also time to celebrate the one year (ish) anniversary of our Twitter #Let’s Lunch bunch, a group that was formed last summer when food blogger Cheryl Tan and I were tweeting back and forth about bacon (I’m still thinking of that latticed bacon that she weaved together for our BLT lunch, our very first date. Lattice bacon? Genius.). We’ve taken a bit of a break – this spring, Cheryl’s been busy putting the finishing touches on her upcoming memoir, “A Tiger in the Kitchen,” and I’ve been working on my first cookbook — but now, smack dab in the middle of summer, we’re meeting again for a virtual lunch(just go to Twitter and type in the hashtag, #letslunch, to follow the stream or click over to the blogs below to see the other recipes). Because it’s still boiling hot in most places, we figured a cool dessert would be just the thing to reconnect.

Welcome back, everyone!

Check out the rest of the recipes:

ShowFood Chef: Melon Fresca with Blackberry Granita

Steff Childs/The Kitchen Trials: Fudgie No-Bake Cookies

A Tiger in the Kitchen: Lemongrass Frozen Yogurt

GeoFooding: Black Sesame Ice Cream

Bon Vivant: Summer Berry Granita with Roasted White Peaches

Watermelon Granita

INGREDIENTS

½ small seedless watermelon
pinch sea salt
8 leaves mint
300 grams/10 oz/1 1/4 cup Greek yogurt
4 teaspoons sugar (or more or less, to your taste)
½ teaspoon vanilla

1. Cut the watermelon into 4 x 4 inch chunks, and put in the blender along with the pinch of salt and mint. Puree until smooth, and pour in a shallow plastic container and slide into the freezer. Every 30 minutes or so, take a fork and scrape the top. After 3-4 hours, you’ll have granita.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together the yogurt, sugar and vanilla.

When ready to assemble, just layer the granita/yogurt mixture– like lasagne, but you know, not.

My Favorite Burger in Paris

epierce — Wed, 11 Aug 2010 11:55:08 +0000

Before y’all start blasting me with comments like, “How could you…?!” please, just stay with me for a minute.

I know, I know. It seems blasphemous. Crazy, at best. For those of you that don’t live in France, Hippopotamus is pretty much what this open photograph looks like — it’s a chain, it’s tacky (note the warm red tone of the interior, in the shots below, cast by the glow of neon), and by French standards, at just $13.90 euros for a burger, it’s cheap. So why Hippopotamus? Why now?

It was a Sunday. I was hungry. And our little bistro in the 17th, where X and I usually go for steak frites, was closed for les vacances.

Enter the Hippo.

I’ve been avoiding this place for years. Years. Snickering at its overt tackiness, wondering how on earth it managed to survive here, in Paris of all places, the capital of all things culinary, but on this particular Sunday, I was feeling, well, hungry, as I’ve already mentioned, and I just thought, “Oh, what the hell.”

Once inside, after we were seated by our 30-something well-tatooed waitress, I looked up, and suddenly felt right at home.

“They grill the meat here?!” I said to X, barely able to contain my excitement. GET OUT!

I immediately time traveled back to my early days at the Charcoal Broiler, Denton’s grilled meat place. It’s where you went in the 70’s for grilled steak, chopped steak, and burgers. Simple decor, in shades of brown, like cow. Meat, thrown on the grill. Baked potato on the side. Sometimes the line was so long that it snaked out the door. It was where the Denton High school football team would often go after games, so in Denton-world, the Charcoal Broiler was as cool as it could get, after Sonic.

Turns out Hippopotamus isn’t that different (and if a French rugby team walks in the door, please rouse me from my hamburger high). Even X’s family sometimes goes to the Hippo for steaks, his mother confessed to me last week. Well, now I see why. The meat here is from one of the oldest French beef cattle breeds, the all-white Charolais, so-called because the breed was developed around Charolles in the Burgundy region.

Is it the best burger I’ve ever had? No, but of the burgers that I’ve eaten while living in Paris, it’s my current favorite — it’s grilled, not greasy; and it’s not trying to be an “American” burger, with a faux-bun, and a pretend American atmosphere. The fries are frozen, sure, but they’re cooked until crisp, which for some strange reason, is hard to find in Paris. It’s soggy fries city around here. The best fries I’ve found are at our next door neighbor country, Belgium.

But here’s the deal, y’all. This is Paris. It’s not Dallas, where you can find Angus beef burgers at Whataburger, for god’s sake. Or Fort Worth, home of Fred’s, the biggest burgers I’ve ever seen and served by the cutest waiters – ever. What I’m trying to say that finding a really authentic, Texas-style (enormous, with Pepper Jack, jalapenos, bacon, and avocado) burger here is as likely as seeing a taqueria on the corner, or finding a barbecue joint with a smoker shaped like a big black pig out front, like the one on the I-35 southbound access road near Lake Lewisville.

Ain’t gonna happen.

Why should we even want to? It would be like going to Texas and saying, “Man, I can’t find a decent duck confit anywhere! What is wrong with this place?”

What I’m saying, I guess, is I’ve adjusted. I’m no longer bitter about the burger blight here; in fact, it doesn’t bother me a bit.

But when I’m in the burger mood, and when a 10-hour plane ride’s too long to wait, you just might find me in the Hippo, where they serve Roquefort sauce (instead of ketchup) with the fries, eating my burger with a knife and fork.

PARIS BURGER 411:

Hippopotamus restaurants are all over town. Find one in your quartier here.

Ferdi serves burgers at lunch on a chic little cutting board, with tasty, crispy fries — but only at lunch, last time I was there. Fashionista crowd, so wear lots of black if you want to fit in. 32 Rue du Mont Thabor, 1e, 01 42 60 82 52

Coffee Parisien’s burgers are pretty good (I get the bacon cheeseburger), but the fries — oversize chunks of potatoes — are just sad. Order the “brick” (French for hashbrowns) instead. 7 rue Gustave Courbet, 16e, 01-45-53-17-17 and 4 rue Princesse, 6e, 01 43 54 18 18

I’ve not tried the burgers at Scoop, but they’re supposed to be quite good. On my list to try. 154 rue St. Honore, 1e, 01-42-60-31-84

Joe Allen’s has been serving burgers for years. I’ve been there once and wasn’t impressed. Some people really like it, though. 30 rue Pierre Lescot, 1e, 01-42-36-70-13

PDG, like Coffee Parisien, another “American” restaurant, is known for its burgers – by the French press. I’ve not been, but could easily be talked into a visit. 5 rue Dragon, 6e, 01-45-48-94-40 and 20 rue de Ponthieu, 8e, 01-45-48-94-40

Ralph’s is Ralph Lauren’s new restaurant and I’ve seen lots of folks blog about his 27 euro Angus burger. Seriously? 173 blvd St. Germain, 6e, 01-44-77-76-00

Shredded Beets and Carrots

epierce — Sun, 08 Aug 2010 20:04:08 +0000

My beet obsession continues. I’m definitely eating more red these days than green.

I’ve been playing around a lot with textures — shredding what I’d usually slice, and slicing very thin veggies and fruits that I often just cut up in chunks. Just changing the shape of something can completely change how you perceive it. (My seven-year-old niece, for instance, will only eat chicken noodle soup with Sponge Bob-shaped noodles.)

I’ve seen shredded beets in the grocery stores here — sitting right next to the shredded carrots, in fact — and I’ve often wondered how it would taste to mix them up together.

I was hoping that for a bright bowl of orange and red, but alas, the beet juice had other ideas. Since the beets and carrots are both sweet, I added capers for a bit of salty, some dill, and when I served this (to myself — since X won’t eat beets), I added a few crumbles of Roquefort, and when I ran out of that, I substituted with feta. Pour on a bit of E-Z Dijon Vinaigrette, and you’ve got a very rouge, crunchy, salty-sweet light lunch.

Shredded Beets and Carrots

INGREDIENTS

4 cups shredded cooked beets
4 cups shredded raw carrots
1 tablespoon roughly chopped capers
1 tablespoon dill
¼ teaspoon sea salt
pinch or two black pepper
E-Z Dijon vinaigrette, recipe follows

In a medium bowl, toss the shredded beets, carrots, capers, salt and pepper. Drizzle about 3 tablespoons or so of the dressing on this mixture, toss, taste for seasonings, and let rest for an hour or two before serving. You’ll probably want to add more dressing — I keep the rest in the fridge, and add a a bit more, if needed, as I eat this over the next day or two.

E-Z Dijon Vinaigrette

INGREDIENTS

⅓ cup sherry vinegar
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard (I often use a coarse grain mustard)
1 teaspoon shallots, minced
1 teaspoon fresh herbs, such as thyme, basil, parsley, chopped (optional)
salt
pepper
⅔ cup olive oil

Put everything but the olive oil in a jar (I always use old jam jars for my dressings) and shake until combined. Add oil, shake again, taste, and adjust for seasonings if necessary.