Mais oui! Blogging the Family Cookbook

The summer before my senior year in high school, I had the privilege of living with a French family for three weeks. It was a wonderful experience, and I learned so much that I was dreaming en Francais by time we said our goodbyes. Their home was in Saint Andre des Eaux, a quaint rural town outside Saint Nazaire, a west coast city with a harbor that opened up to the Atlantic Ocean.

The town was straight from my French book, complete with une boulangerie, un boucherie, and other assorted speciality shops. Every night after dinner, I would take advantage of the late sunset and walk a mile along cow pasture-lined country roads with Indigo Girls "Closer to Fine" blasting through the headphones of my Sony walkman (RIP, Sony walkman!) to La Briere, a giant marsh with interconnecting narrow waterways that people would paddle around by boat to look at the native flora and fauna.

I hit it off with my French sister, and my French parents couldn't have been nicer. Dad often wanted to practice his English while Mom didn't speak a word of it. But I considered myself incredibly lucky because every night she would ask me what I wanted for dinner in contrast to some of my American friends, who regaled me with horror stories of the meals that they were forced to eat.

I ate chicken. Every. Single. Night. Of course now I kick myself for blowing such a unique opportunity to try authentic French cooking and learn more about local food. But I was still a very picky eater at the time and clearly did not try to break out of my comfort zone.

There was one recipe that she made that I couldn't get enough of--potage. This thick vegetable soup included pureed potatoes, carrots, onions, leeks, and some other flavorful ingredients that for the life of me, I was never able to replicate. Although I left France with her handwritten recipe tucked in my bag, and my (real) mom and I tried to make it many times, potage never, ever tasted the same again. As the years passed, the ink on that paper literally faded away, and no record exists any more of that recipe.

My mom reminded me of potage the other night when I asked her why she included "Mom's Potato, Fennel, and Leek Soup" in the family recipe book that my sister compiled as a gift for my wedding. Mom had a string of reasons ... that it was getting on to winter and she wanted to include a soup ... that she decided to submit a recipe for every course ... that she had just clipped this recipe from the newspaper ... and then as an afterthought, that it reminded her of potage.

Potage!

While I hadn't thought about potage in years and our disappointing failure in trying to recreate the recipe, I do love to make soup now. In fact our most used wedding gift so far is a 12-quart soup pot, which is great to use (but a giant PITA to clean).

So it works that I had unwittingly chosen this as the first recipe to make from the family cookbook when I decided to blog my way through it. While this recipe is no potage, it's easy to make and turns out a nice hearty soup on a cold winter's night.

Mom's Potato, Fennel and Leek Soup

2 leeks, light green and white parts only, thinly sliced

2 T unsalted butter

1 T olive oil

1 carrot, peeled and chopped

1/2 bulb fresh fennel, trimmed and chopped (about 3/4 cup)

3 baking potatoes, about 1 1/2 pounds, peeled and cut into chunks

1/2 t dried thyme

2 T chopped parsley

1 bay leaf

4 1/2 cups chicken broth

salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

In a soup kettle, cook the leeks slowly in the butter and oil for 5 minutes. Add the carrot and fennel; cook 5 more minutes. Stir in the potato chunks, thyme, parsley and bay leaf. Add the broth, bring to a boil, then cover and simmer for 25-30 minutes, or until the potatoes are completely tender. Discard the bay leaf. Crush about a third of the veggies with a potato masher (we skipped this step and opted for chunky veggies). Season with salt and pepper. Serve piping hot.

Serves 5

Cry, Cry, Cry

While I haven't been very diligent about photographing my meals lately, I used a lot of food from my CSA this week.

On Sunday night my intention was to make the yellow spaghetti squash that had been taunting me from its waiting place on my kitchen table. I had never prepared nor eaten spaghetti squash before, but with Ryan on a business trip and a prior bad experience with the food, I thought it would be a good time to make it and catch up on some trashy tv.

Of course I was too tired to cook on Sunday night, so I vowed to make it on Monday and even found a recipe for pear and radicchio salad to go along with it, since those were two other items from last week's box.

Instead I *prepared* a dish, which is what I used to do all the time before I truly started to cook. I took the last 5 potatoes that didn't make it into the kugel and threw them in a pot of boiling water. Once softened, I mashed with butter and salt and paired with a small salad consisting of the remaining green lettuce and carrots from the CSA.

Then I watched Extreme Home Makeover and cried at the reveal.

Of course I was too tired to cook on Monday night, so after staring down the squash, I vowed to make it on Tuesday and scrambled some eggs with sauteed diced leeks and sliced heirloom tomotoes, both from the CSA. I prefer my tomatoes of the grape variety, but I have to say that these orange-colored orbs were sweet and tasted delicious mixed with the eggs.

Then I watched Gossip Girl and cried when I realized it was a repeat of the season premiere.

Tuesday night was the second presidential debate, and I was determined to make that squash, especially since Ryan was home and game to eat it. I preheated the oven to 375, poked some holes in its gleaming skin, and stuck it in the oven for an hour. While it cooked, I chopped a head of radicchio with pears and tossed with a dressing of garlic, olive oil, salt, pepper, and lemon juice.

Once the squash was ready, I sliced it open (my knife went through it like butter), scooped out the seeds and gook, and used a fork to gently peel away the strands. I was enthralled with how much it looked like spaghetti! We made a recipe called spaghetti squash with Moroccan spices. I should say that the recipe recommended microwaving the squash, which I find horrific for some reason, but I found that baking it made my kitchen smell really good.

We then cried (with joy) as Obama thumped McCain.

Spaghetti Squash with Moroccan Spices (from epicurious.com)

1 (3 1/2- to 4-pound) spaghetti squash
1/2 stick (4 tablespoons) unsalted butter, cut into pieces
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/8 teaspoon cayenne
3/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro

Pierce squash (about an inch deep) all over with a small sharp knife to prevent bursting. Cook in an 800-watt microwave oven on high power (100 percent) for 6 to 7 minutes. Turn squash over and microwave until squash feels slightly soft when pressed, 8 to 10 minutes more. Cool squash for 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, melt butter in a small heavy saucepan over moderately high heat. Add garlic and cook, stirring, until golden, about 1 minute.