Dessert – Page 8 – Myfrenchkitchen

Quinces are bistro food…either in the form of jams and jellies or simmering on the stove for a compote or in the oven as a side dish. In season, freshly picked from the garden, on the market, they are on all the bistro menus for as long as the season lasts. And a crumble says it all. Comfort, warmth, flavor, senses, laughter, friends, cosiness, delicious.. a few words to capture a quince…and a bistrot.

Une pincée de fleur de sel:

Boil the seeds and inner core along with the dice of quince – it flavors the mixture ant thickens the syrup.
Replace the ginger with cinnamon if you don’t like ginger.
Make smaller ramequins of crumble and serve as part of a plate of three dessert.
Use apple with quince.

..whipped cream, slice of orange and a ramequin of crumble..

..ingredients..

..Bistro flavor..

Life is a ratatouille, a blanquette, a bourguignon. It is a tartelette, a crumble, a millefeuille… life is a bistrot. No Michelin star restaurant, or any well known chef or trendy novelty or brocante can capture French life like le bistro. It is the place we go for our lunch or dinner because it feels like home. It is the place we go for our café, because that is where our friends are.

..bistrot at Coin Perdu..

We depend on the chef of le bistro to entice us with le plat du jour, or better yet, le menu du jour, where we sit back with a carafe of house wine and wait for our entrée et plat, or plat et dessert. The menu for the day mostly consists of either a starter and main course OR main course and dessert. Of course written on the blackboard, since the menu of the day follows the season! So never trust a bistrot without a blackboard!

.. plat du jour at Coin Perdu…

Bistrot life is just in my blood I guess. I love my coffee and croissant. Freshly squeezed orange juice. Pierrot gourmand. I love the simple French home kitchen where life is about family, friends and food. Around a bistrot table, discussion is always about the food. Of course other subjects are touched, but the food is always an obvious point of discussion…”is it delicious, or not so good today? Too much salt on the salmon? Too little butter in the sauce? Is the housewine good with the bourguignon? Is this year’s November Beaujolais better than last year..?”

..also called café des artistes..

I love the typically bistrot serviette, which speaks of the simplicity, but warmth of the French home kitchen. Simplicity doesn’t mean uninteresting or plain or boring, on the contrary. The French kitchen is filled with the exiting freshness of each season, whether it is in setting the table or making a soup or serving a Paris-brest. Frou-frou is left to the stage at Moulin rouge..in the bistro kitchen the soul is naked and simple..honest and true.

..des serviettes de mon bistrot..

I love La place, where a bistrot is always nestled between tables and chairs, people and fountains, pigeons and dogs of all colors. It is a place where the placid passing by of the morning makes way for the clutter of knives and forks, the clinking of glasses and loud chatter of happy eaters at midday.

..and outside we’ll find la place du café..

Some of my most favorite Bistrot books, which I know almost by heart from reading them again and again. They can be found on amazon.fr.

..Esprit bistrot..

..”Lotte de Bretagne piquée au chorizo, risotto façon paella”-Bruno Doucet à La Regalade

et bistro L’Ami Jean..

(photographe: Denys Clément

..Bistrots de chefs à Paris..

..Cyril Bourlois – bistrot Aux vieux comptoir..

(photographe: Gérard Cambon)

..Simplement bistrot- Yves Camdeborde..

..La tarte fine aux pommes – Yves Camdeborde

..Bistrot; autour et avec les recettes du Paul Bert – Bertrand Auboyneau et François Siumon..

..l’cailler du bistrot et une serveuse..

(photographe:Christian Sarramon)

..Un café à la campagne – Christophe Lefébure..

(photogrape: Yves Duronsoy)

..to the left: Chez Baudy à Giverny, where American artists gathered at the turn of the XIX and XXth centuriesto be in the presence of Monet..and ancient cafés to the right..

When I was in Hawa’i I searched everywhere for a nice tropical dessert with local fruits, but all in vain. Probably because of a lack of fruits in season? Back here at home, I still want a fruit salad, so I made this salad Not completely a tropical one, but with some well known fruits. Next time I’ll make a real tropical salad with lesser know fruits and give my verdict.

Cut some tropical fruits of your choice into brunoise(small cubes). I used mango, papaya, pineapple, kiwi, kumquat, pomegranate, green Granny smith apple.
Use fruits that are ripe, but still firm, so that you don’t end up with a soggy fruit salad…awful!
Cover the apple with lemon juice to prevent coloring.
Don’t use banana, it is too strong and overpowering for a fruit salad.
Use a tiny melon ball scoop for the papaya to add some difference in shapes. I also cut the pineapple in little triangles.
Keep the fruits separate and mix lightly just before serving, OR set in layers in a pretty glass.
Make a syrup of 4 passion fruit pulp, 1 TSP of sugar and 1/2 cup of water. Let it boil down to a syrupy consistency and pour over the salad just before serving.
Serve with a small scoop of lemon sorbet. (recipe following in a next issue)
Decorate with some fresh flowers or a little umbrella for fun, lime strips, or add mint leaves or small basil leaves.
Serve cold, but NOT so cold that you can’t taste the fruit!

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Hawai’i is always a good place to unwind, even if you just do nothing, which is exactly what I did this time around. Reading by the pool, watching people(one of my favorite pastimes) while imagining their stories. On one such a day, this lovely Hawaiian woman gave some Hula lessons and of course I don’t have the same pretty hips for swaying along, but I could at least capture some nice hips!

The Hula is not just pretty hip swaying, but tells a story. With the hands and arms and face, a tale is mimicked with sensuality and sensitivity. One does get involved and captured and can’t help but wish more stories were told this romantic way.

I was too far away to hear this story, but I imagine it could be something like this:

“The goddess Pele, who owns the sea and oceans and the mountains, saw that Hiania who lost a child, was absorbed by sadness. Hiania hid from the world and her tears filled the rivers. Pele cares passionately for her children of the islands and she heaved the winds and stirred the waves with a message to Haina.

“Cry no more“, she said.

“Look up to the sun and see your child in the skies. He is smiling upon you and asking you to set free your sadness and prepare your womb to receive the child the winds will bring you.”

Hiania looked up and saw the smile of her son. She gave her sadness to the mountain who took it deep into the earth to feed its fire and she was set free to wait with anticipation upon her keiki (little one).