French Recipes & Food Ideas

A rainy afternoon in Montmartre. I’m in Paris this week, and I’ve been looking forward to bringing you some tips and fresh ideas from the streets of the city. But as I sat down to think about what to share with you, I found my thoughts going in a bit different direction than I expected. Here are five lessons I’ve been learning in the past five years of travel, and especially from Paris. Last night’s omelet.

“A woman happy happy in love, she burns the soufflé. A woman unhappy in love, she forgets to turn on the oven.” In Sabrina (1954), Audrey Hepburn plays a chauffeur’s daughter in love above her station. Unnoticed and brokenhearted, she goes to culinary school in Paris to forget. But even so far away, she can’t keep her mind on her cooking.

Enabled by images of two-hour lunch breaks, picture-perfect farmers markets, Julia Child-approved hearty stews, baskets of bread, and pastry shops dotting every city block, it’s easy to reduce French eating habits to caricature. While some of those things are prevalent (not the two-hour lunch break — that’s fading fast), culinary predilections among French people today go well beyond romanticized cultural narratives.

David Lebovitz, acclaimed pastry chef, cookbook author and blogger, welcomed me into his almost-renovated Parisian kitchen (see his original kitchen here). He was as delightful in person as he is on the page and screen, even amidst ongoing construction. Join me for a brief interview and catch-up session with one of our favorite bon vivants.David Lebovitz first enchanted me with his many informative, reliable cookbooks then caught me hook, line and sinker with his eponymous blog.

One doesn’t generally think of French cuisine as being vegetarian-friendly, yet vegetables are front and center in Clotilde Dusoulier’s French Market Cookbook. In this charming new vegetarian cookbook, the Chocolate & Zucchini author highlights seasonal, meatless dishes that anyone can love.

Giant wheels of Comté cheese measure three feet across and clock in at 80 pounds by the time they’ve made it through months of aging and are ready to eat. But each one of those hefty rounds starts out right here, with these lovely ladies. These are Montbéliardes, the main breed of cow responsible for producing all the milk that goes into a wheel of Comté cheese. If they look a bit confused, it’s only because we interrupted their breakfast.

Making Comté isn’t all chomping on wildflowers and gazing dreamily at the yonder rolling hillsides. Every twenty-four hours, the milk from those happy cows goes off to the cheesemaker — called a fruitière in this part of France — to be made into fresh wheels of Comté. This, my cheese-loving friends, is where the magic happens. You have to get up early if you want to make Comté cheese.

We’ve talked about the milk used to make Comté and we’ve talked about how that milk is turned into cheese. Now we’re at the end of the journey: the mighty cheese caves, where rounds of Comté are aged for anywhere from four months to several years. Walking into the affineur, I was struck by two things: the pungent, earthy aroma of gracefully aging Comté and the floor to ceiling vista of nothing but cheese. Cheese as far as the eye could see. This was heaven.

Julia Child was many things — an author, an educator, a television personality, an excellent cook, and a missionary for good food for all. She was more than just television’s The French Chef — she was the most significant emissary for French cooking of the 20th century.

If I were to guess which city had the most guidebooks written about it, my guess would be Paris. Paris is, after all, the city many romanticize, regardless of whether or not they have actually been there. There is a charm to Paris, a pull for many travelers — it’s a city full of quirks, mystery, hidden streets, and tucked-away gardens. But as a resident of Paris, I am here to tell you: the guidebooks don’t tell you everything.

As the owner of a doughnut shop in Paris, I’m often asked how I started making America’s humblest breakfast pastry in a city famous for its haute pâtisserie. The short version is this: I love doughnuts (who doesn’t?). I love them plain, warm and just out of the fryer; I love them dolled up with whiskey and bacon; I love them topped with meringue and filled with rhubarb compote and pastry cream.

When I think of vending machines, things like Snickers and Twix bars come to mind. Maybe a crinkle-packaged cookie, or a bag of Sun Chips behind a bold F4. But here’s something I never considered purchasing from a vending machine: raw meat. My initial reaction to the news was disgust, but really, why should it be?

From a pragmatic standpoint, it makes zero sense to purchase kitchen equipment in Europe if you live in the United States. If you’re buying more than a few linens, it’s either heavy to haul or expensive to check in the belly of an airplane. I know from experience that people stare at you if you walk through security with a fine mesh strainer. Depending on the exchange rate, it can be expensive. And, well, don’t you already have silverware?

Okay, trying Ina’s favorite hot dog is not the only reason I went to Paris. But it was so high up on my to-do list that I went straight from the airport to the hotel (to quickly check in and drop off my bags) and then to the hot dog spot. I did not shower after my overnight flight; I did not stop to change my shoes; I did not pass go or collect $200. I went right to Frenchie To Go. How do I know about Frenchie To Go?

Cookbook: Buvette: The Pleasure of Good Food by Jody Williams Overall Impression: This book is for lovers of simple, good, unfussy food. From soft scrambled eggs to sumptuous lentils, Buvette has each meal and moment covered to the fullest. I can’t put this one down. Buvette is my favorite restaurant in New York City. I discovered it a few years ago with my partner Sam as we were stumbling through the West Village one hot, muggy July morning.

The Site Corot factory in Limoges, France was once famous for its eclectic, avant-garde porcelain dinnerware, but it hasn’t produced anything in over a decade. Now it’s back, under new creative direction, and issuing both new and classic designs, like the Florida pattern seen above.The Florida porcelain dinnerware collection, from 1986, is colorful and graphic, with patterns that are meant to be mixed and matched.

The angle: This is not the Paris you know from restaurants or movies or the trip you took 15 years ago. This is modern day Paris, as told through the lens of David Lebovitz’s kitchen. Recipes for right now: Artichoke Tapenade with Rosemary Oil, Spiced Meatballs with Sriracha Sauce, Baked Eggs with Kale and Smoked Salmon, Counterfeit Duck Confit, Dukkah-Roasted Cauliflower, Coffee Crème Brulée, Honey-Spice Bread Who would enjoy this book?

The angle: Provence! Wine! Sunshine! Good food! You know you want it. Recipes for right now: Vegetable Soup with Pistou, Bouillabaisse, Barbequed Mussels, Tian à la Provençale, Niçoise Salad, Lemon Tart Who would enjoy this book? Cooks planning a trip to Provence — or dreaming of their last time there.

Who hasn’t tried Chardonnay? While it is the first wine that many of us ever taste, at its pinnacle, it is also the wine that many connoisseurs consider the single greatest white wine in the world. Think of Chardonnay as a set of pearls: versatile enough to wear with your favorite pair of jeans and elegant enough for the most formal, black tie affair. Over the past century, no other white grape has captivated the world’s attention as Chardonnay has.

I spent the last ten days in Toulouse, in the southwest of France. It’s a warm, sunny city in the summertime, with a relaxed vibe and late night hours that remind me more of Spain than Paris. I had several good meals in Toulouse, but none better than the ones shared in friends’ homes. I wanted to show you one of them — a no-cook, no-sweat feast that was pretty splendid, and also so inspiring for laid-back summer meals.

Red Burgundy is synonymous with Pinot Noir, yet no other region conjures up so much confusion to novice drinkers, while providing so much fascination for wine lovers. What is it they know that you don’t? And how can a region that revolves around primarily one red grape seem so intimidating? A few weeks ago, I broke down the styles of white Burgundy (Chardonnay).

The book: A Kitchen in France by Mimi Thorisson The angle: With a little attention to the seasons and a few core recipes, you can eat like you live in a French farmhouse, no matter where you are. Recipes for right now: Onion Tarts, Lobster with Jura Wine Sauce, Bouillabasse, Black Pig Pork Roast with Garlic Mashed Potatoes, Hazelnut Blancmange, Potato Pie with Comte Cheese, Garlic Soup, Beef Cheek Stew Who would enjoy this book? Anyone who dreams in French.

Cookbook: My Little French Kitchen by Rachel Khoo Overall Impression: Drawing inspiration from her travels throughout France, Rachel Khoo puts her distinctive stamp on the country’s regional cuisines. What do you do when you’ve got a case of Parisian ennui? Why, cavort all over France with an ace photographer, gathering gorgeous images and riffing on classic recipes from the country’s various food-producing regions, of course!

I’ve spent the last decade living and working in France. Aside from learning how to be fashionably late and to take pleasure in friendly debate, being an expat has greatly informed my habits and values. The most notable impact has been on my relationship with and approach to food (for which I am extremely grateful). Here are five ways living in France has shaped my culinary values. This oft-bandied-about platitude is, for many, a means of assuaging feelings of guilt after overindulgence.

Love, cheese, bread, tying scarves, protesting — the French seem to have it all down to an enticing and enviable science. Now add day-drinking to that list. Having a drink en terrasse or outside at a café or bar is a near daily activity in France (no matter the weather), and the secret to doing so in daylight hours without stumbling home before the sun sets and the dinner bell rings lies in the aperitif.

Despite having its roots in Austria, the croissant is associated with one European nation in particular: France. And now, courtesy of a looming butter shortage, the country may soon find themselves with dwindling amounts of the pastry. Mon dieu! Butter, which makes up 25 percent of the pastry’s ingredients, has seen a 92 percent increase in price. The price of butter is slated to double what it cost last year this time.

Oh la vache! Recently the French had to swallow the news that cheeseburgers are now more popular than their own iconic jambon-beurre sandwich. In its annual survey of the French food landscape, Parisian restaurant consultants Gira Conseil discovered that burger sales increased by a whopping (or a Whopper-ing) nine percent last year, overtaking sales of the ham-and-butter baguette for the first time. In 2017, 1.46 billion burgers were sold within the country, compared to 1.

Ann Mah, a D.C.-based writer and author of the novel The Lost Vintage, tends to move around a lot because of her husband’s job as a diplomat. They spent four years in Paris, and bought a small apartment there to have as a home base —which means that now she spends each summer there with her 4-year-old daughter. She also happens to be a friend of Kitchn (and you should check her work out here).

It started with a tweet. Kate Hill, who ran Kitchen at Camont in Gascony, was taking applicants for a culinary writing residency at her 300-year-old farmhouse retreat in rural southwest France. She wanted someone to come stay in a little blue room, join in Camp Confit, and write their heart out. Sitting in my dim, windowless office where I worked on websites all day, something clicked in my mind. I had to do this. The only problem was that I was a vegetarian.

When I wasn’t devouring Hot Pockets while watching MTV after high school, my go-to meal was salad: Iceberg lettuce smothered in neon-orange French dressing, topped with Bacon, cheese, and store-bought croutons. Occasionally I threw a tomato or cucumber on top as a garnish. Then in 1990, I spent a summer living with a family in France. Fresh fruits and veggies, more sweet and flavorful than I experienced at home, ruled the table.

My first stop at the Place Monge market in Paris is always the smallest booth on the corner, next to the Metro escalator. The stand is filled with fresh dill, basil, rosemary, and thyme waiting to be wrapped in brown paper, and rows of fresh eggs waiting to be sold, with the largest boxes boasting seasonal French produce, from fresh garlic to radishes to beets. The line grows quickly — this is the first stop for all my neighbors, too — but it’s worth the wait.