Butter

It will kill you. Yes, I know. But when it’s got to be butter, it’s truly got to be butter.

 Two buttery recipes.

Radis Roses with Butter and Fleur de Sel

The first time I tasted French radis roses was the day I moved to Paris, in March of 2003. I knew that "radis roses" simply meant pink radishes, but there’s a little something romantic in the word rose that elevated the radish from a mere root vegetable. They were served to me with a little cross cut in the root end for the golden Normandy butter, and flaky Fleur de Sel salt. Oh my.






Sole Meunière

Ok, theoretically, the star of the dish is the Dover sole, a lovely, pricey, delicate, firm-fleshed fish, found in the cold waters of northern Europe. And I’m sure there are lots of ways to cook it that don’t involve butter (well, surely there must be!), but there’s something symbiotic, synergistic and deliciously synful about butter and this fish, that explains why it’s such a classic.


Buy your fish from a reputable fishmonger. Otherwise, chances are excellent you’ve paid for flounder.

Salt and pepper your beauty on both sides. Heat a sauté pan over medium high heat then drop in a good knob of butter. A couple of tablespoons or so. When the butter foam subsides, gently lay in the fish, starting from the position closest to you, and moving away, so as not to splatter yourself with hot butter. Quickly brown the fish on both sides but don’t burn the butter.


Remove the fish to the serving plate (carefully) and add more butter to your pan. Watch it go brown. Have a lemon ready to squeeze into the browning butter at the precise moment before brown goes to black. It will sizzle like mad so best not to cook this naked.

Remove the pan from the heat and toss in a tablespoon or so of parsley. Pour the whole of it over your fish and add a little more parsley over the top. You might want to have cooked something to go with it, like parsleyed potatoes or green beans. Or you might have wanted just fish. And wine, of course.

Bon appétit!

Photographs courtesy of Jeff McDowell.

Paradise at the Top of a Mountain

I shouldn’t have doubted our intrepid little rented Peugeot, but I’ve never driven to lunch in first gear before. Our destination was Domaine de Capelongue, a magnificent hotel and restaurant in the Relais & Chateaux group, that’s situated at the very tippy-top of a small town in the Luberon region of Provence called Bonnieux.  The chef, Edouard Loubet, is Michelin-starred and well published (his books are available Amazon.com, though not all are translated into English).

We were early for our 12:30 lunch reservation so we took a few pictures of the whimsical and beguiling entrance.

We were seated on the terrace with flutes of champagne, a simple crudité with anchoiade (a classic Provencal dip of anchovies, garlic and olive oil) and wispy black truffle crackers, perched in narrowly carved indentations in a fat, black stone. The view over the grounds and the valley distracted us briefly from the food and drink but not long enough for me to get a picture of either! The landscape remained in spite of my gluttony and soothed us into quiet contemplation.



The cravings of my stomach over reason persisted through the amuse-bouche of a wedge of the local cavaillon melon in a light sauce of wine scented with very classy balsamic vinegar. Which is why I don’t have a picture of that either!

Happily my dining companions reminded me of my responsibilities so I was able to capture the first course before having completely consumed it. I’d had a hard time understanding this course when explained to me by our server because I just didn’t understand sunflower as food. I get the seeds of course, but sunflower?

It turns out that sunflower heart has a texture very similar to that of an artichoke and is amazing. It was served in a wild celery vinaigrette with sautéed girolle mushrooms and slices upon slices of black truffle. Once the plates had been set in front of us, our server circled the table, shaving off more of the truffle until we felt cocooned by the heady aroma. We repeatedly caught the same scent throughout our meal as other diners were regaled with their own perfumed clouds.

[The baseball sized truffles for this course were kept in a pedestalled cake plate under a clear glass dome on a nearby table. Something came over me as our first course plates were being removed and I asked the very young server if they weren’t afraid somebody would steal them. He appeared shocked only giggled his answer.]

The second course of smoked rack of lamb was presented to us for inspection from a heavy black cauldron opened dramatically at the table. Smoke of fresh Herbes de Provence from their gardens billowed around us and we sat back in quiet and confident anticipation. We were each served three of the chops in an impossibly delicate jus along with a cauldron of potato gratin reported to be from Chef Loubet’s grandmother’s repertoire. We were told to stir it thoroughly as to incorporate the wild leeks and herbs from the bottom of the little enameled casserole.

We didn’t feel the dessert quite lived up to the standards set by the rest of the meal though a smoky cappuccino cream served in a glass domed bowl sustained the smoke and perfume theme of the meal. The mignardises (tiny bite-sized sweets) made up for whatever the dessert had been lacking and I was able to get a picture before we inhaled them.

Coffee was served to us in the at a table for four in the garden. We chose this spot in the sun, under a statue of a wrought iron man contemplating the valley below. The coffee arrived with little shot glasses of chocolate ganache with small kabobs of local fraises des bois (teeny and intensely flavored strawberries) and raspberries.

 

We might have sat there forever as serenely as the wrought iron figure above us had we not remembered suddenly our 5:00 p.m. deadline at Europecar back in Aix-en-Provence.

The next morning I walked up the twisty Aix street to the marketplace for lunchtime provisions, and came across these beauties offered for sale at a vegetable stand. I sat for a moment with a coffee and contemplated the adventure that is travel and the joys of discovery.