I was recently engaged with my parents in a discussion about traditional desserts in Algeria and North Africa in general. If you were here, although you wouldn’t understand a word of what we were saying, you would hear my father say, in a very serious manner, that Algerian desserts are very simple and tend to be a basket of seasonal fruits, to which my mother was replying with a sigh at the memory of her parents’ pomegranate, figs, and loquat trees that her sister-in-law razed to the ground; or a basket of dried fruits, to which my mother was replying with a sigh at the memory of all the little cotton purses my grandmother would make for us every year to store our dried fruits in; or a platter of sweet pastries with mint tea, to which both my parents were replying with a sigh at the memory of the sweet pastries they won’t be eating since the doctor told them to watch their sugar level.

This is how serious, and nostalgic, the subject of dessert is in our family. And one of the many reasons we don’t get along with my uncle’s wife.

The traditional way to end a meal in Algeria, and in North Africa in general, can be as simple as a basket of fruits or as elaborate as platters of sweet pastries and sweet Tagines, depending on the occasion and whether you’re having a guest over or not. And even so, pastries are not only offered to the guest at the end of the meal but at different times throughout the day as well, when they are always served with mint tea or coffee, or both. Pastries like Kaab el Ghazel, Dziriyette, and almond samsa, just to name a few, are offered to guests as symbols of hospitality, friendship, and joy.

But if pastries aren’t available for the unexpected guest, the one who shows up at an awkward time, one can never refuse the simple pleasure of a juicy peach, a sweet grape, or a bowl of diced watermelon.

 Fall will see apples, figs, clementines, pomegranates, quinces, pears, and grapes. Winter will bring oranges. Spring will bring berries, apricots, and cherries; and summer will see melons, peaches, plums, and nectarines. All of which are good alone, but become lusciously delicious when mixed with orange blossom water or rose water.

For me, fruit salad has always been associated with orange blossom water, and my siblings and I fighting over who gets the most of the fragrant syrup released by the fruits. The recipe doesn’t seem like much, but if you’ve never smelled or tasted orange blossom water before, you may never understand what I mean. Something magic happens when you mix a fruit, especially a berry (which by the way has a natural affinity for orange and rose water) with orange water and sugar. The sugar will draw out the juice from the fruit to form a fragrant and soothing syrup with the orange water. When no fruit is left at the bottom of your little bowl, you can either drink the syrup up or make yourself one of these Semolina Ghribias to dip into the syrup and soak up as much orange flavor as possible.

Ghribia, also known as Montécao in France and Spain, is a lovely, crumbly, not-too-sweet cookie most famous in Algeria and Morocco. It is very similar to the Middle Eastern Ghoriba, although this version is somewhat different in that it is made with semolina flour instead of flour, and that Ghribia is always sprinkled with ground cinnamon. Versions of Ghribia include using flour alone, semolina alone, a mixture of flour and ground nuts, and a mixture of semolina and ground nuts. Ground hazelnuts or almonds give an exquisite taste to these cookies. They also keep very well for days in an airtight container, which makes them perfect for the unexpected guest and the sudden dessert craving. Because as long as there will be fruits and pastries on our table, there will be plenty of memories to create, stories to tell, and a culture to share and preserve.

Semolina Ghribia and Orange-Scented Fruit Salad

Makes about 2 dozen Ghribia
- Seasonal fruits (I used strawberries and blackberries)
- Cane sugar (start with 1 tbsp and see, depending on the sweetness of your fruits)
- Orange blossom water (Used about 2 big tablespoons for twenty berries)
- For the Semolina Ghribia:
- ¼ cup canola oil or vegetable oil
- ¼ cup butter
- 2 large eggs
- 5 ounces confectioner’s sugar
- 3½ cups semolina flour
- ½ tsp baking powder
- A dash of sea salt
- ½ tsp vanilla extract
- Confectioner’s sugar and ground cinnamon for dusting

For the orange water scented fruit salad, peel where necessary and slice the fruits that you are using in a bowl, and toss them together with the sugar and the orange blossom water. Mix well and leave to macerate for at least 1 hour before serving, stirring the fruits from time to time. The sugar will draw out their juices to form a fragrant syrup.

To make the Ghribia, line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone liner. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Melt the butter in the oil over medium heat. Remove from the heat when melted and let it cool down.
In a bowl, stir together the semolina flour, salt, baking powder and set aside.

Beat the eggs with the sugar until fluffy and well mixed. Add the butter mixture and vanilla and mix until well blended. Add the dry ingredients and mix just enough to moisten the dough. The dough will look crumbly and soft.

Wet your hands and shake off the excess water. Wet again as needed. Form the ghribia by pinching off little balls of dough and rolling between your palms until a perfect dome is formed. Flatten the bottom of the cookie, arrange on the prepared baking sheet a little apart from each other, and sprinkle with a little of icing sugar and ground cinnamon.

Bake for 18-20 minutes. They should remain white and have a cracked top. Do not be tempted to overcook them, as the taste is different if they are even slightly brown. Let them cool on a wire rack before trying to move them from the baking sheet.
 

Ghribia à La Semoule et Salade de Fruits à L’eau de Fleur d’Oranger

In Francais Please:

Pour 2 douzaines de Ghribia
- Des fruits de saison (Fraises et mûres)
- Sucre de cane (commencer avec 1 c.s et ajouter selon la maturité des fruits)
- L’eau de fleur d’oranger (J’ai utilisé environ 2 c.s bien remplies pour 20 fruits rouges)
 

- Pour la Ghribia a La Semoule:
- 56g d’huile végétale
- 56g de beurre
- 2 gros oeufs
- 150g de sucre glace
- 430g de semouline (semoule fine)
- ½ c.c levure chimique
- Une petite pincée de sel marin
- ½ c.c d’extrait de vanille

Pour la salade de fruits, éplucher ce qui doit être épluché et couper les fruits en morceaux. Mélanger dans un bol les fruits avec le sucre et l’eau de fleur d’oranger et laisser macérer au moins une heure avant de servir, en mélangeant les fruits de temps en temps. Le sucre formera avec le jus de fruits et l’eau de fleur d’oranger un sirop succulent et bien parfumé.Pour la Ghribia, garnir une tole de patisserie de papier sulfurisé ou de papier en silicone. Préchauffer le four à 160C.

Faire fondre le beurre dans l’huile sur feu doux. Retirer du feu et laisser refroidir. Dans un bol, mélanger la semouline, la levure chimique et le sel et mettre de coté.

Battre les oeufs avec le sucre pour obtneir un mélange léger. Ajouter beurre-huile et mélanger quelques secondes jusauq’à ce tout soit bien incorporé. Ajouter la semouline et mélanger juste ce qu’il faut pour obtenir une pâte lisse et friable.

Mouiller vos mains légerement et secouer l’excés d’eau, sans les essuyer avec une serviette. Rincer puis mouiller vos mains à chaque fois qu’elles deviennent collantes. Prendre une boule de pâte de la grosseur d’une grosse noix, et rouler entre vos mains afin d’obtenir un dome lisse. Aplatir le fond légerement et deposer sur la tole en laissant un peu d’espace entre chaque ghribia. Saupoudrer de sucre glace et de canelle en poudre.

Faites cuire au four pendant 18-20 minutes. Ne les faites trop cuire, puisque ils doivent garder cette couleur blanche et qu’en les laissant brunir juste un peu, vous risquerez d’alterer leur gout délicat. Laisser refroidir completement sur une grille à patisserie avant de le démouler.

Somehow every Wednesday, and sometimes Friday, I find myself in the kitchen baking. I love baking. I really do. When my mother would entertain a crowd, I was the one in charge of baking dessert, setting the table and frying Dauphine cheese. My brother always teases her about her redundant dauphine cheese and how he can tell that we are expecting guests only at the sight of cheese dauphine … and mushroom sauce. They are very good, though.

A lot of people are afraid of baking. I understand it. I get afraid of baking, too; especially when it involves cakes and tarts. The failures I had with these too are more than I can count and handle. A few months before I got married, I invited my then soon-to-be sister-in-law and her husband for an afternoon tea. I wanted to impress them by making one of my mother’s signature tarts: Pear and walnut cream tart. (Actually, I wanted my then soon-to-be sister-in-law to be impressed so she would call my then soon-to-be husband and tell him how lucky he is to have such a talented baker. What a lame plan!)

I read the recipe, set my ingredients on the countertop and began kneading my dough to have it come together. The recipe said: “work flour, butter and water together until your dough comes together.” “Until my dough comes together?” That’s what I did. I might have worked the dough a tad longer, and added more flour to speed up the process, but how was I supposed to know! I garnished my tart, baked it, and served it to my guests. I was sitting next to my then soon-to-be sister-in-law when she tried to take a piece of my disobedient tart with a fork and her little portion of tart literally went flying past my shoulders and landing on her husband’s lap. We all looked at each other, looked at our portion of tart, and started laughing. (Needless to say that my plan to impress her was a fiasco and that I made her promise not to say a single word about my rebellious flying tart to my then soon-to-be husband. She kept her promise. I ended up telling him the story anyway, this exact same day. We laughed about it. He still wanted to marry me!)

A few days ago, it might have been a Wednesday, too, I don’t remember, I went to make one of the many cakes both my mother and grandmother would make for our afternoon snacks: Semolina and raisin cake.

As I started reading the recipe, I was afraid this was going to be yet another baking fiasco to add to my résumé. The recipe says: “1 small bowl of semolina” Now I don’t know about you, but I’ve never felt comfortable with these kind of recipes. “A small bowl?” How small? Is there a standard for small bowls that I wasn’t aware of?

(My mother told me the other day that every time a friend of hers would give her such recipes that involved small bowls and small cups, she would ask them to give them the exact bowl that they used for their recipe. She now has all kinds of mismatched bowls and cups, and she remembers which one goes with which recipe. Now, that’s smart!)

Not having my mother nearby to “borrow” her small bowl, I turned my web cam on and asked her to tell me which of my bowls she thinks was right for this recipe. After too many “No! That’s too big! Your bowls are too big!” and having all my kitchen cabinets emptied out on my desk, she finally gave the verdict that my small cup of coffee was the right “small bowl.” Confusing, I know!

This cake is one of my favorites growing up. Despite the confusing “small bowl,” which I weighed to make it easier for everybody, it is a fairly easy cake for novice bakers. The cake yields a moist, smooth, and delicate crumb that is a fusion between cheesecake and clafoutis. The preparation is quite similar to making baked polenta or rice pudding. Here the semolina is added in a stream to the boiling milk and cooked for a few minutes until creamy and smooth. The remaing ingredients are added to the milky mixture away from the heat, then the batter is turned onto an oiled pan to bake until a nice, chewy golden crust, which happens to be my favorite part, forms on top. And then all you do is let it cool a bit, slice it with a butter knife without being afraid of flying pieces, and enjoy this glorious moment – until next Wednesday, at least.  

Semolina and Raisins Cake

Recipe:

- 4 cups whole milk
- 4.5 ounces fine semolina flour
- 6 tbsp granulated sugar
- 1 tbsp butter
- 4 eggs, at room temperature, lightly beaten
- 1 tsp orange zest
- ½ cup black raisins

Scald the milk, then add semolina in a thin stream, whisking. Cook over moderate heat, whisking constantly, for 10 minutes, until the mixture looks like a smooth porridge. Away from the heat, add sugar, butter, eggs, orange zest, and raisins, and whisk until well incorporated.

Turn the batter into an oiled square or rectangular pan and spread it evenly with a spatula. Bake at 375F for 25-30 minutes or until golden brown on top.

Serve warm or at room temperature.
 

Gateau de Semoule et Raisins In Français Please:
- 125g de semouline (semoule fine)
- 1L de lait entier
- 6 c.s de sucre en poudre
- 4 oeufs, a temperature ambiante, légerement battu
- 1 c.c de zeste d’orange
- 50g de raisins secs, noirs
- 1 c.s de beurre Porter le lait à ébullition, puis verser dessus la semoule en pluie en remuant avec un fouet. Laisser cuire sur feu doux tout en remuant pour éviter de bruler le fond, environ 10 minutes, ou jusqu’à ce que le mélange ressemble à de la bouillie. Hors du feu, ajouter le beurre, les oeufs, le zeste d’orange et les raisins secs, et mélanger pour obtenir un mélange homogène.

Verser la pate dans un moule carré ou rectangulaire bien beurré et lisser bien la suface. Cuire à 180F pendant 25-30 minutes ou jusqu’à ce que la surface soit dorée et qu’un cure-dents inséré à l’interieur en ressort sec.

Servir tiède ou à temperature ambiante.

A few years ago, back when we were dating without even dating (that’s a long story!), my husband told me that he didn’t like bread pudding. He dropped it just like that, in the middle of our conversation, between a sip of half-an-hour-cold espresso and him thinking about having a goatee. I didn’t know what to think of this situation. A man with a goatee! And who doesn’t like bread pudding! Will it work?

Needless to say how confused I was. But this happened during our first days of romance, and the rule number 123 of dating for dummies tells you not to take it too seriously when a man admits that he doesn’t like bread pudding, but they tell you nothing about the sudden urge of having a goatee! Confused? I know! Me too.

And what’s more confusing is that I agreed with his bread pudding aversion (but not with the goatee!). I agreed to the dislike of centuries-old dessert without even arguing. I agreed to hate bread pudding when I know how much I love drowning my bread in milk before eating it. I agreed to dislike something I’ve actually never had before. I agreed to something I thought I, myself, hated for years, until this past weekend.

This past weekend there were no dating game, no loosing game, no mascara and no shiny shoes. This past weekend was about an unfinished business, an unknown dessert, and about using some of my leftover bread. And I have to admit that I cannot find a better, cozier, and more charming way to use leftover bread than by making bread pudding. It’s every leftover bread’s fantasy to end up swimming in a custard bath with raisins and nuts as bathtub toys.

This bread pudding is the most popular sweet in Egypt. It’s called Om Ali, which means “Ali’s Mother.” The traditional way is to use baked fillo pastry broken into pieces with a mixture of cream and milk, but people find all sorts of ways of making it; with pancakes, with thinly rolled-out puff pastry, and with pieces of bread.

I went for “a lighter custard,” skipping the heavy cream and adding eggs to the mixture. The bread is soaked in an orange-blossom-water-perfumed custard for 20 minutes, sprinkled with raisins and nuts in between the layers, and then baked until nicely browned and the pudding tips nicely out of its mold.

As I was taking the pudding out of the oven, my husband came to the kitchen and saw me holding the golden-crusted dessert in my arms and asked what it was. “Bread pudding,” I said. “But before you say anything, give it a chance!” I said, “I know how much you hate bread pudding.” “Who told you I hate bread pudding? I hated the one I had once in my college years, not all bread puddings. Besides, yours looks scrumptious,” he replied.

Needless to say how confused I was. But I am glad I gave both of them a second chance.

Om Ali : Egyptian Bread Pudding

Recipe:
You can also add some semi-sweet chocolate chips to the custard. It’s not traditional, but I am sure Om Ali wouldn’t mind.

- ½ lb day-old of your favorite bread
- ¼ cup raisins
- ¼ cup coarsely chopped of your favorite nuts (I used pistachios and almonds)
- 3 large eggs
- ½ cup sugar
- 1 tbsp orange-blossom water
- A pinch of salt
- 2 cups whole milk
- ½ tsp ground cinnamon, for dusting on top
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly butter a 2-qt (2L) baking dish.

Trim the crusts from the bread and cut into ½-inch (12mm) cubes. Scatter the bread in the prepared baking dish, sprinkling the raisins and nuts in between the layers.

In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, sugar, orange-blossom water, and salt until blended, then whisk in the milk. Pour the mixture over the bread, dust with the cinnamon, and set aside for 20 minutes to moisten the bread. Tilt the dish occasionally to keep the bread evenly covered with the liquid.

Place the baking dish in a bigger pan and pour hot water into the pan to reach halfway up the sides of the dish. Bake until golden brown and a knife inserted into the center comes out clean, 40-45 minutes. Carefully remove the baking dish from the water bath and let cool completely on a wire rack. Serve at room temperature or refrigerate to chill for up to 3 hours.

Om Ali: (La maman d’Ali) Pudding Égyptien

In Francais Please:

Vous pouvez aussi ajouter des pépite de chocolat si vous le souhaitez au pudding. Ce n’est pas trés traditionnel avec la recette, mais je suis sure que Om Ali fermera les yeux dessus.

- 250g de pain de quelques jours
- 45g de raisins secs
- 45g de vos noix favoris, grossierement hachées (J’ai utilisé pistache et amandes)
- 3 gros oeufs
- 125g de sucre
- ½ c.c de canelle en poudre
- 1 c.s d’eau de fleur d’oranger
- Une petite pincée de sel
- 500ml de lait entier

Beurrer légerement un plat d’une capacité de 2L allant au four. Préchauffer le four à 350F.
Retirer les croutes du pain et les couper en petits dés d’1 centimetre et les mettre dans votre plat en alternant avec noix et raisins secs.

Dans un grand bol, battre les oeufs, sucre, eau de fleur d’oranger, et le sel jusqu’a ce que tout soit bien incorporé, puis verser dessus le lait. Verser ce mélange sur les morveaux de pain, saupoudrer de canelle, et mettre de côté pendat 20 minutes pour laisser au pain le temps d’absorber le liquide. Remuer le palt de temps en temps pour que le pain reste toujours couvert du liquide.

Faire cuire le pudding au bain marie pendant 40-45 minutes, ou jusqu’à ce que le pudding devienne doré et qu’un couteau inseré à l’interieur en ressort sec. Retirer le plat du bain marie et laisser refroidir completement sur une grille à patisserie avant de servir. Servir à temperature ambiante ou mettre au frais pendant au moins 3 heures avant de servir.

Breakfast has a precious place in my life. I can’t imagine a single day without it. I just can’t, both for the good sake of my body and my mood. I can’t leave my house without my breakfast, even when the purpose of my outing is to have breakfast. (Got it?) Until now nothing to ramble about you might say, but where it starts to be alarming is when I find myself every night, while trying to fall asleep, thinking about what I am going to have for breakfast tomorrow. My brain starts wandering if it’s going to be cold in my kitchen and if I would have to wear my warm slippers and probably my fake Asian kimono dressing robe to face the cool day; if I will have time to sit down with my beloved and early-morning-chatty husband before he goes out to work, or if I would have to wait until he is out and have my breakfast quietly without feeling rushed; and God knows how much I hate being rushed when I’m eating. If I should have granola, toasts, leftover bread crumbled with some milk or prepare something special for breakfast. (My grandfather and I used to play a game during breakfast that consisted of crumbling bread as quickly as possible into our mug of milk. Every time he tried to distract me from winning by faking faintness and by throwing some extra bread in my mug.)

If I should have coffee or chocolate with my bowl of milk, which would require heating up the milk, which might slow me down a bit from sitting down with my chatty husband; and God knows how much I love listening to his cute jokes and childhood memories while I am trying to start off the engine of my sleepy brain.

One of his childhood memories was how his mother, who used to knead her bread every morning to feed her six children and husband, would send him just after school to the bakery to bring the bread that she has sent there hours earlier.

Still today, in some parts of Algeria and Morocco, women continue to make their bread daily by hand, and then sent them to the community oven in big trays on the heads of children wearing thick kitchen or bathroom towels to cushion the weight of the tray. You can see them one by one coming out of their respective houses trying to balance this sacred food on their head while chatting with their buddies about the next soccer game. They are brave children, as they know how important it is for the bread to arrive safely to the bakery without any blemishes and bruises. The baker knows every one of his clients personally, every child that comes there, everyone’s preferences when it comes to baking the bread: some like it crusty, others like a dark golden color or a pale golden color; the baker has to remember these details and continue to run his bakery at the same time. In case the baker would forget which one is which, the loaves of each family are identified with a wooden stamp, a specific decoration, or a specific tray, for the children to remember as well. And if bread should come out overbaked or with a burned bottom, which God forbid, the baker had to face the anger of mothers and wives who would put “Daawat El Sharr” a curse on him. Curses that involve torrential rain, undying fever and ruined bread and business, and trust me you don’t wish to be the baker at this exact moment.

One of the most common bread in these two countries is “Khobz El Dar,” which literally means the bread of the house. It is different from one family to another, but the popular recipe is the one that uses a mixture of semolina and unbleached all-purpose flour and is baked in a clay pan. This bread is fragrant, with a texture that is very soft and crumbly, and a delicate crumb.

The version I made today is different, easier and quicker than the traditional one where we use dry yeast and leave the bread to rise before baking it. You can call it a quick bread if you will, but trust me, beside the reduced time and the change in the technique, there is nothing corrupt to this bread. In fact, you will need to be free during the thirty minutes of baking, as you will find yourself going back and forth to the kitchen gazing at the delicate crumb turning from ochre to a light touch of gold, and sticking your nose at the glass of the oven (which I did four times) filling your soul with the warm smell of anise seeds and orange; my favorite flavor combination ever. I wish there was a perfume made of these two ingredients, because I would be spraying it over my body all day long.

The second best thing about this bread (the first being its delicate crumb) is that its purpose is to invite you to slow down and enjoy it leisurely. This isn’t the kind of bread you would grab quickly while looking for the remote control, and I am not naming names here, but instead taking the time to sit down with a dollop of honey butter (just mix butter at room temperature with honey until desired flavor) and meditating at how much bread and life can be beautiful. Because trust me, the last thing you want to do is to be cursed by a woman, who happens to be the baker.

Khobz El Dar: (Homemade Bread) Algerian Semolina Bread

Recipe:

- 1 tbsp butter for greasing the pan
- 1 cup unbleached all purpose flour
- 1 cup fine semolina flour
- 1 tbsp baking powder
- ¼ cup sugar
- ¼ tsp salt
- 2 tsp orange zest, or ground candied orange peels
- 1 tbsp anise seeds
- 1 cup whole milk
- 1 large egg
- 5 tbsp unsalted butter, melted and cooled
- Candied orange peels strips for decoration (Optional)

Grease an 8” ovenproof pan with the butter. Preheat the oven to 400F. Sift flour, semolina, baking powder, sugar, and salt into a bowl. Add orange zest and anise seeds and set aside. Whisk milk and egg in another small bowl, and then whisk in the melted butter. Add the milk mixture to the dry ingredients and stir just until incorporated. Do not overmix.Pour into the prepared pan, and smooth the top out with a spatula. Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until golden and a toothpick inserted comes out clean.

Serve warm with honey butter.

To store: This bread can be kept at room temperature for 2 to 3 days, covered with plastic wrap; or it can be frozen for up to a month.

Khobz El Dar: (Pain de maison) Pain Algerien de semouline

In Francais Please:
- 120g de farine
- 120g de semouline (semoule fine)
- 50g de sucre en poudre
- ¼ c.c de sel
- 240ml de lait entier
- 1 gros oeuf
- 70g de beurre, fondu et refroidi
- 1 c.s de graines d’anis
- 2 c.c de zeste d’orange, ou de pelures d’oranges confites
- Des fines bandes de pelures d’orange confites pour décorer
- 1 c.s de beurre pour beurrer le mouleBeurrer un moule de 20 cm de diametre. Préchauffer le four à 200C.Beurrer un moule de 20 cm de diametre. Préchauffer le four à 200C.Tamiser la farine, semouline, levure chimique, et sel dans un bol. Ajouter le zeste d’orange et les graines d’anis et mettre de côté. Mélanger l’oeuf et le lait dans une petite assiette creuse, puis ajouter le beurre fondu. Verser le mélange de lait sur le mélange de farine et remuer juste assez pour que tout soit homogene. Eviter de trop remuer.

Beurrer un moule de 20 cm de diametre. Préchauffer le four à 200C.Tamiser la farine, semouline, levure chimique, et sel dans un bol. Ajouter le zeste d’orange et les graines d’anis et mettre de côté. Mélanger l’oeuf et le lait dans une petite assiette creuse, puis ajouter le beurre fondu. Verser le mélange de lait sur le mélange de farine et remuer juste assez pour que tout soit homogene. Eviter de trop remuer.Verser dans votre moule et faire cuire au four pendat 25-30 minutes, ou jusqu’à ce que le pain soit doré, et qu’un cure-dent inséré à l’interieur du pain en ressort propre.

Servir tiède avec du beurre au miel

Pour le conserver: Ce pain se conserve 2 à 3 jours, couvert d’un film plastique à temperature ambiante; ou peut se congeler jusqu’à un mois.

When I was about four years old, I used to wear glasses. I had a slight squint (my siblings used to call me cross-eyed).

I used to go to the eye doctor every week, and every time we would come back from his office, my father would show me a building on the far left side of the street and ask me if I could see it clearly. Most of the time my answers were an exasperating no! He would console me with a kiss on my forehead and tell me that I would do better next time and that for now a plate of carrot salad would help my eyes get better.

I don’t know if it was my mother’s spicy carrot salad that helped my eyes get back on the right track, but at least it was a good excuse for me to have the biggest part.

This salad is very popular in Algeria and Morocco. It is usually served on a small plate along with two or three colorful seasonal salads. My mother usually boils the carrots, slices them, then tosses them with a cumin vinaigrette. I came across a cute bunch of tiny carrots the other day at the grocery store and decided to leave them whole and roast them. The salad can’t be easier: Just whisk the vinaigrette, pour it over the carrots, and roast the colorful bounty for about 15-20 minutes, until the carrots are caramelized and your whole house smells like a Mediterranean spice shop.

You can serve this salad slightly warm, but I think it tastes better after a few hours, to give the warm spices and the carrots a little while to “ripen.”

 

Spicy Roasted Carrot Salad Recipe: Serves 6

- 2 tbsp garlic oil
- 1 fat garlic clove, finely diced
- ½ tsp honey
- 1 tsp cumin seeds
- ½ tsp paprika
- 1 pinch ground cinnamon
- ½ tsp Kosher salt
- Freshly ground pepper
- 2 thin carrot bunches, peeled
- Lemon juice
- 1 tbsp fresh cilantro, chopped

Position a rack in the middle of the oven, and preheat to 400 degrees F.

In a small bowl, whisk together the garlic oil, garlic, honey, cumin seeds, paprika, cinnamon, salt and black pepper. Set the vinaigrette aside.

On a baking sheet, toss together the carrots with the vinaigrette, and bake until caramelized and tender, about 15-20 minutes.

Serve with a drizzle of lemon juice and chopped cilantro.

Salade épicée de Carottes Rôties In Francais Please: Pour 6 personnes

- 2 bottes de carottes plus au moins fines
- 1 grosse gousse d’ail, finement hachée
- Jus de citron
- 2 c.s d’huile d’ail
- ½ c.c de miel
- 1 c.c de graines de cumin
- ½ c.c de paprika
- 1 pincée de cannelle en poudre
- 1 c.s de coriandre frais, hachée
- ½ c.c de sel (pas de sel de table)
- Poivre noir fraichement moulu

Mettre la grille du four au milieu, et préchauffer a 200C

Dans un petit bol, mélanger l’huile d’ail, l’ail, miel, graines de cumin, paprika, canelle, sel et poivre. Mettre cette vinaigrette de coté.
Mettre les carottes sur une grande tôle et les enduire de la vinaigrette. Cuire au four jusqu’a ce que les carottes deviennent tendres et caramélisées, environ 15-20 minutes.

Servir avec un filet de jus de citron et la coriandre hachée.

You shouldn’t make or even read this recipe if you are a Vampire, a mosquito, a dog or a cat (garlic apparently causes anemia in cats and dogs), Tom Cruise, Steven Spielberg, Silvio Berlusconi, or if you are on your way to a job interview, a meeting or a club.

Side effects may include: dependence, happiness, sudden sense of proud, garlicky smell of your kitchen, your clothes and you; runaway of your family, your friends, your pets; loneliness.

If dependence on Garlic Oil lasts more than four hours, please, don’t sue me!

Roasted Garlic Oil and Roasted Garlic Mash

Recipe: Bon Appétit, April 2003

- 2 large garlic heads, cut horizontally in half
- 2 cups pure olive oil
- 2 sprigs fresh thyme, or 2 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1 teaspoon black peppercorns, toasted

Huile d’Ail Rôti et Puree d’Ail Rôti

In Francais Please: Bon Appétit, Avril 2003

- 2 têtes d’ail
 - 500ml d’huile d’olive
- 2 branches de thym, ou 2 c.c de thym séché
 - 1 c.c de grains de poivre, grillés

- Cut the garlic heads horizontally in half.

- Couper les têtes d’ail en deux horizontalement.

- Put the garlic heads cut side down in a small casserole or ovenproof pot and pour the olive oil over them. Add the thyme and pepper. Cover with a lid or foil and bake in a preheated 300 °F oven for 45 minutes to 1 hour, until the garlic is soft enough to mash. Carefully, remove the garlic from the oil and set aside.

- Deposer les têtes d’ail côté coupé en bas sur un plat allant au four et verser dessus l’huile d’olive. Ajouter le thym et le poive noir. Couvrir d’un couvercle ou d’une feuille d’alluminium et faire cuire dans un four préchauffé à 150 °C pendant 45 minutes à 1 heure, jusqu’à ce que l’ail soit tender pour pouvoir le reduire en purée. Retirer l’ail tout doucement de l’huile d’olive et mettre de côté.

- Strain the oil into a bowl and let cool, then pour into an airtight container. The oil will keep in a cool and dark place for at least a month. You can use the garlic oil in just about anything. I love it particularly in my salad dressing, with a touch of honey. Delicious!

- Faire passer l’huile d’olive au chinois et laisser refroidir, puis verser dans un bocal ou une bouteille a fermeture hermétique. L’huile se gardera pendant au moins un mois dans un endroit frais, à l’abri de la lumiere. Vous pouvez utiliser l’huile d’ail dans tous vos plats. Je l’aime particulierement dans mes vinaigrette, avec un peu de miel. Un vrai Délice!

- To make the garlic mash, squeeze the cloves out of their papery husks into a bowl. Mash the roasted garlic with a fork. Store mash in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 1 month. This is a very useful substance to have on hand for your roasted chicken, lamb, vegetables, stews, soups…etc.

 - Pour faire la purée d’ail, presser les gousses d’ail de leur enveloppes sur une assiette. Ecraser à l’aide d’une fourchette. Conserver au frigo dans un recipient à fermeture hermétique pendant au moins un mois. Cette purée d’ail est trés pratique, elle relevera vos poulets rôtis, vos legumes, soups, ragouts…etc.

I don’t remember which one came first: cooking, or the words that came with the recipes.

My mother had a small collection of pocket size French Cookbooks that I loved reading. The cookbooks had no pictures and no stories, just recipes, words and may be some drawing here and there. Yet, these books played a major role in the life of a teenage girl who wanted to learn the art of cooking.

Leafing through a cookbook that has no pictures, I was more drawn to a recipe that calls itself “Pain Bourguignon”, “Braised green lentils on a bed of Escarole”, “Anna potato cake” or even “Eggs en Cocotte” than to the ones with a less phonetic impact. Once I gave my poor siblings a taste of what was at the time my obsession with the word: Pilaf. Say it again, slowly: P-I-L-A-F! The way the tongue caresses the palate gently makes it sound more mystifying and delicious.

One sunny Friday, when my parents said they would be away for the afternoon, and that they might be late for supper, I nodded my head religiously to my mother’s leftover-reheating recommendations while the word Pilaf danced sensuously and discreetly in my mind. Once my parents had left, I had my rice, my onion, my chicken stock and my seasoning on the counter top. I was a girl on a mission.

The rice was beautiful, served in a royal blue glass dish, fluffed with a fork and decorated with some chopped parsley. I sat in my Mother’s place and served my siblings some of the rice and the other leftovers. I was proud of my self. Even more proud to explain my siblings how this wasn’t any kind of rice, this was P-I-L-A-F Rice! (With the tongue rolling, of course!) The first bite was a little unexpected. But I decided to stay quiet and continued on with another spoonfuls, hoping that my siblings wouldn’t notice. Then my older sister put down her fork. “It’s undercooked, some grains are still raw,” my sister said, and went on to eat my mother’s leftovers.

“No, it’s not undercooked, it’s Al-dente” (Another word that I loved using at that time, too!) Then my younger brothers followed and I couldn’t convince them anymore to eat it; even when I asked them to fish the raw grains out.

I ate all I could, but inside I was devastated with the knowledge that I have made a mistake somewhere in the recipe. I served my family a dish of partially raw rice and tried to make them believe that this was how the dish was to be served: Crunchy Pilaf!

Ever since this episode, I have learned how to make Pilaf Rice properly. But I still love using beautiful, exotic names for my dishes to impress the crowd. Even though the recipes are still the same. Somehow, I find it more alluring to introduce this Savory Cake as a Savory Cheddar, Goat Cheese and Cilantro cake than: Savory Quickbread, which is just what it is in reality. But much more.

I made this recipe from Dorie Greenspan’ Serious Eats chronicles: Baking with Dorie. The cake is simply marvelous and oh, so easy to make. You basically whisk all the dry ingredients together in a bowl, the wet in another, and then you gently combine the two. Pour, bake, let it cool, and you’ve got yourself a moist, delicious and cheesy cake that would make any novice baker proud. The only minor changes that I made to the original recipe was to use a mix of white whole-wheat flour and all-purpose flour, to use cilantro instead of chives (it was a manner of availability) and to use goat cheese for its fresh note. I love to serve this savory cake with salads, or as a toast for my sandwiches. After a few days, when it dries out, I like to slice it, toast it, and dice it into croutons to garnish my salads or soups.

Savory Cheddar, Goat Cheese and Cilantro Cake

Adapted from Here

- 1cup all-purpose flour

- ¾ cup white whole wheat flour

- 1 tablespoon baking powder

- 1/2 to 1 teaspoon salt (it depends on what cheese and add-ins you’re using. I used 1 tsp)

- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper (or more to taste; you could even add a pinch of hot pepper)

- 3 large eggs, at room temperature

- 1/3 cup whole milk, at room temperature

- 1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil

- 3 ounces coarsely grated cheddar or other cheese

- 2 ounces fresh goat cheese or other cheese, cut into very small cubes

- 1/2 cup chopped cilantro or other herbs

- 1/3 cup toasted walnuts, chopped (optional)

Put the flour, baking powder, salt, and pepper in a large mixing bowl and whisk the ingredients together to combine. Put the eggs in another mixing bowl; whisk for about 1 minute, until they’re foamy and blended. Whisk in the milk and olive oil.

Pour the wet ingredients over the dry ingredients and, using a sturdy rubber spatula or a wooden spoon, gently mix until the dough comes together. There’s not need to be energetic—beating the dough toughens it—nor do you need to be very thoroughly. Just stir until all the dry ingredients are moistened. Now, stir in the cheese, grated and cubed, the herbs and the toasted walnuts, if you’re using them. You’ll have a thick dough. Turn the dough into a buttered loaf pan and even the top with the back of the spatula or spoon.

Slide the loaf pan into a 350 °F-preheated oven and bake for 35 to 45 minutes, or until the bread is golden and a slender knife inserted into the center of the loaf comes out clean. Transfer the pan to a cooling rack, wait about 3 minutes, then run a knife around the sides of the pan and turn the loaf over onto the rack; invert and cool to room temperature right-side up.

The cake can be served when it is still slightly warm, but like Dorie herself, I prefer it when it has cooled completely. Well wrapped, the cake will keep for about 2 days at room temperature or for up to 2 months in the freezer (thaw in the wrapper). It is normal that the cake may seem a little dry after a couple of days. At that point, it’s good to toast the slices. I like to use them as little croutons in my salad and soups, too.

Cake Salé aux Cheddar, Fromage de Chèvre et Coriandre

In Francais Please: Adapté d’ici

- 110g de farine

- 100g de farine blanche complete

- 1 petite c.s de levure chimique

- ½ a 1c.c de sel (tout depends du fromage que vous utilisez et de ce que vous voulez ajouter. J’ai mis 1 c.c)

- ¼ c.c de poivre noir faichement moulu

- 3 gros oeufs, a temperature ambiante

 - 100ml lait entier, a temperature ambiante

- 100ml d’huile d’olive extra vierge

 - 85g de cheddar, grossierement rapé

- 50g de fromage de chevre, coupé en en dés

- 125ml coriandre, haché

- 100ml noix, grossierement hachées (facultatives)

Dans Une grande jatte, mélanger les farines, la levure, le sel et le poivre. Dans un autre bol, battre les oeufs pendant un minute jusqu’à ce qu’ils deviennent mousseux et bien incorporés. Ajouter le lait et l’huile d’olive. Verser tous les ingredients liquides sur les ingredients secs, et mélanger doucement à l’aide d’une spatule ou une cuillere en bois. Ne pas trop mélanger ou le cake sera dur et sec. Ajouter le fromage rapé et le fromage de chèvre en cubes, les noix et Mélanger encore. Votres pate sera épaisse.

Verser la pate sur un moule à cake beurré et lisser la surface du cake à l’aide d’une maryse ou le dos d’une cuillere a soupe.

Glisser le cake au four, et faire cuire à 180C pendant 35-45 minutes ou jusqu’à ce que le cake soit doré et qu’un couteau inséré à l’interieur du cake en ressort propre. Laisser le cake dans sans moule pendant 3 minutes, puis démouler sur une grille à patisserie et laisser refroidir à temperature ambiante à l’endroit.

Vous pouvez le servir tiede, mais je le préfere tout comme Dorie, completement refroidi. Bien envelopé dans un film plastique, le cake peut se garder pendant 2 jours à temperature ambiante ou pendant 2 mois au congélateur (décongeler-le en le laissant dans le film plastique). Il est normal que le cake durcisse après quelques jours. A ce stage, il est préférable de griller les tranche en toast (J’aime les griller et les couper en dés pour décorer salades et soupes.

Friends, meet my latest addiction: Pierre Hermé’s Chocolate Sparklers.

Oh my, are these ever easy. The cookies are really just French Sablés, the best ones I’ve ever had. The secret to a perfect sablé is not to overmix the dough once you’ve added the flour. After that, all you have to do is roll, chill, slice, bake, and poof! You’ve got yourself Chocolate Sparklers. It’s that simple. You can even do what I did by making the dough the day before and bake it on the D-day.

As Pierre Hermé explains it, rolling the dough in the sugar isn’t meant to add sweetness to the sablés, but rather to make the edges crisp, a nice match to their crumbly texture. Pierre Hermé recommends using Valrhona cocoa powder, which I’m sure is great, but at ten dollars a tin I went with Ghiradelli unsweetened cocoa powder. It’s fairly easy on the wallet and has a very true chocolate flavor and color. The sablés are great on the first day but, for some mystifying magic, are even better on the second day, and much, much better on the third day. If they can last that long!

Pierre Hermé’s Chocolate Sparklers

Recipe: Adapted from here

- 2 ¾ cups all-purpose flour

- 1/3 cup Dutch processed cocoa powder

- Pinch of cinnamon (I used cardamom)

- Pinch of salt

- 2 ½ sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature

- ½ cup plus 2 tbsp sugar

- ¼ tsp pure vanilla extract

- 1 large egg yolk

- Turbinado sugar (or any crystallized sugar) for coating

- Sift the flour, cocoa powder, cardamom, and salt together and set aside. Place the butter in a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and beat on medium speed to soften it. Gradually add the sugar and the vanilla and continue to beat, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed, until the mixture is smooth and creamy but not airy. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the flour mixture, blending until the ingredients are just combined. Do not over mix. The light touch is what will give the cookies their characteristic crumbly texture. Divide the dough in half, shape each half into a ball, wrap the balls in plastic, and chill for 30 minutes.

 - Working on a smooth surface, form each piece of dough into a log that’s about 1½ inches thick and 7 ½ inches long. To get a solid log, one without that commonly found hole in the center, use the heel of your hands to gently flatten the dough, then flatten the dough lightly each time you fold it over on itself to make the log. Roll the log gently under your palms to smooth it out. Wrap the logs in plastic and chill for 1 to 2 hours, or even overnight. At this point, the dough can be stored in the freezer for up to 1 month).

- Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set them aside. Position the racks of the oven into thirds and preheat the oven to 350F.

- In a small bowl, whisk the egg yolk until it is smooth and liquid enough to use as a glaze. Spread some turbinado sugar on a piece of waxed paper.

- Remove the logs of dough from the refrigerator, unwrap them, and brush them lightly with a small amount of the egg yolk. Roll the logs in the sugar, pressing gently to get to stick. Then using a sharp slender knife, slice each into cookies ½ inch thick. Arrange the cookies on the baking sheets, spacing them a little bit, and bake for 18 minutes, rotating the pans front to back and top to bottom at the midway mark, until the cookies are just firm to the touch. Cool the cookies on a wire rack. The cookies can be kept in an airtight tin at room temperature for 3 to 5 days.

Joyaux au Chocolat de Pierre Hermé

In Francais Please: Adaptée d’ici

- 385 g farine

- 35 g cacao en poudre amer

 - Une pincée de cannelle (J’ai utilize la cardamome)

- Une pincée de sel

 - 285 g de beurre doux, mou

- 125 g sucre

- ¼ c.c d’extrait de vanille

- 1 gros jaune d’oeuf

- Cassonade (ou autre sucre cristallisé) pour rouler

- Tamiser la farine, poudre de cacao, cardamome, et le sel. Mettre de coté. Mettre le beurre dans un mixeur doté de l’attachement pour le gateau et battre a vitesse moyenne. Ajouter le sucre et la vanille petit à petit tout en rabattant les bords de temps en temps, jusq’à ce que le mélange soit homogene et lisse mais pas volumineux. Réduire la vitesse du mixeur et ajouter les ingredients secs, et mélanger juste afin que la farine soit bien incorporée, pas plus. Le secret des sables reside dans cette phase ou l’on ne doit pas trop mélanger la farine. Diviser la pate en deux, la rouler en boule et couvrir d’un fil plastique. Mettre au frais pendant 30 minues.

- Sur une surface lisse, rouler les boules en cylindre de 4 cm d’épaisseur et 7 ½ de longeur. Pour ne pas avoir un trou au centre des sables, aplatir la boule de pate à chaque fois, tout en roulant en cylindre. Couvrir chaque cylindre de film plastique et mettre au frais pendant 1 a 2 heures voir meme la nuit. A ce stade, la pate peut etre congelé pendant un mois.

- Préchauffer le four à 180C et positionner les grilles du four en faisant en sorte de séparer le four en tiers. Garnir deux plateaux de patisserie de papier sulfurisé et mettre de coté.

- Dans une petite assiette, battre le jaune d;oeuf jusqu’à ce qu’il devienne liquide et soyeux. Répartir du sucre sur une feuille.

- Retirer les cylindres de sables du frigo, les découvrir, et les badigeonner légerement du jaune d’oeuf. Rouler les cylindres dans le sucre en pressant si necessaire. A l’aide d’un couteau trenchant, couper les sables d’une épaisseur de 1.5 cm d’épaisseur. Déposer les sablés sur les plateaux et faites cuire pendant 18 minutes, en tournant les plateaux de haut vers le bas et du fond vers le devant à la moitié de cuisson, jusqu’à ce que les sablés sont juste fermes au toucher. Laisser refroidir sur une grille à patisserie. Les sablés peuvent se conserver pendant 3 à 5 jours à temperature ambiante dans un bocal à fermeture hermétique.

When I was thirteen, I started writing recipes in an agenda that my father had given me. The agenda wasn’t my favorite. When I think about it, I should have chosen a prettier one, a real recipe notebook; yet I’ve decided to go with this one. A small blue agenda with aluminum covered corners and on the cover you can read: “M Roads and Buildings Industry”. I know this M. He’s my father’s friend, a really nice guy. I just didn’t expect his agenda to be the one that would carry my cherished recipes for such a long time, but it did. My mother’s recipes notebook is also an agenda. A big, black agenda, that goes back to the late seventies, early eighties. I don’t really remember the exact date. What I do remember however is that on the cover you can read: “National’s Oil Company”. I guess it runs in the family!

But when you come to think about it, isn’t cooking making something out of natural resources? That might explain why my mother and I use such agendas as recipes repertoire. Smart thinking, right?

One thing I made yesterday in my kitchen was this Gruyère and Leeks soufflé. It was heavenly delicious: Creamy, light and very comforting. I know a lot of people get scared of soufflés; they have this reputation of being hard to make and don’t like to wait for anybody. But like most reputations, what you hear is not always true.

If you’ve ever whipped up some egg whites or made a mousse, then there is no reason in not making soufflé. This time, I decided to give you a step-by-step recipe in making leeks and Gruyère soufflé. I hope you will enjoy it.

Leeks and Gruyère Soufflé

Recipe: Serves 6

- 4 ½ tbsp sweet butter, plus 1 tsp to coat the
- ¾ cup grated Gruyère cheese
- 3 leeks, cleaned, washed and roughly sliced
- 1 ¼ tsp sea salt
- 4 ½ tbsp flour
- 1 ¼ cup milk
- ¼ tsp freshly ground black pepper
- ½ tsp old style Dijon mustard
- A pinch of freshly ground nutmeg
- 3 egg yolks
- 7 egg whites

Soufflé de Poireaux et Gruyère

In Francais Please: Pour 6 personnes
- 75 g de farine
- 75 g de Gruyère râpé
- 3 poireaux, néttoyés, laves et grossierement hachés
- 1 ½ c.c de sel marin
- 40g de farine
- 275 ml lait
- ¼ c.c de poivre noir, fraichement moulu
- ½ c.c de moutarde a l’ancienne
- Une petite pincée de noix de muscade, fraichement moulu
- 3 jaunes d’oeufs
- 7 blancs d’oeufs 
 

- Make Ahead: Take the eggs out of the fridge, and let them come at room temperature. Melt 1 tbsp of butter in a pan and sauté the sliced leeks season with ¼ tsp salt. Cover and cook for 5 min on medium-low heat until the leeks are tender. Uncover and continue cooking for a few minutes on high heat until all the liquid has been evaporated. Set aside to cool.

- Avant Toute Chose: Sortir les oeufs du frigo pour qu’ils reviennent à temperature ambiante. Faire fondre 1 c.c de beurre dans une poele et faites sauter les poireaux. Ajouter du sel et laisser cuire sur feu dou, couvert jusqu’à ce qu’ils deviennent tendres. Découvrir le poele et laisser cuire encore plus, sur grand feu, jusqu’à ce que tout liquide soit evaporé. Mettre de coté.

1- Butter a 1½- quart soufflé mold with 1 tsp soft butter. Be sure it is well coated all around. Add the Gruyère cheese and turn the mold around so that the cheese sticks to the butter. Let the extra cheese fall into a bowl. Refrigerate the coated mold. A very cold mold helps the soufflé rise straight. Never smear the coating or you mat disturb the rising of the mixture.

1- Beurrer généreusement un moule à soufflé d’1 ½ L avec 1 c.c de beurre mou. Ajouter le Gruyère râpé et faites tourner le moule tout autour afin que le fromage adhere aux parois du moule. Enlever l’exces de fromage mais sans jamais toucher l’interieur du moule ou vous risquerez de deranger la montée du soufflé. Mettre le moule au frais. Un moule bien froid aide le soufflé a monter bien droit.

2- Melt the remaining butter in a saucepan and add the flour. Stir quickly, and cook for 1 minute on low heat.

2- Faites fondre le beurre restant dans une casserole et ajouter la farine d’un seul coup. Mélanger rapidement, et faites cuire sur feu doux pendant 1 minute.

3- Add the milk, 1 tsp salt, black pepper, the Dijon mustard and bring to a boil, stirring with a whisk. As soon as it reaches the boiling point, the sauce will thicken. Boil on low heat for 1 min, still stirring to avoid scorching.

3- Ajouter le lait, sel, poivre, la moutarde de Dijon et porter a ébullition, en remuant constament avec un fouet. Des les premiers bouillonements, la sauce commencera a épaissir. Laisser mijoter sur feu doux pendant une minute, tout en continuant de mélanger.

4- Away from the heat, add the yolks and mix well.

4- Hors du feu, ajouter les jaunes d’oeufs et mélanger.

5- Add the leeks, ground nutmeg and the grated Gruyère cheese. Stir with a wooden spoon.

5- Ajouter les poireaux, la noix de muscade rape et le Gruyère rape. Mélanger a l’aide d’une cuillere en bois.

6- Whip the egg whites until they hold a peak, but are still “wet”. Place about one-third in the leek mixture and mix with a whisk. Work as fast as you can, because as soon as you stop beating the whites, they start to break down and become grainy.

6- Battre les blancs d’oeufs en neige jusqu’a ce qu’ils gagnent de volume mais reste un peu mousseux. Ajouter le tiers a la sauce de poireaux et mélanger avec un fouet. Travailler aussi rapidement que possible car après avoir cesser de battre les blancs, ils ont tendance a se séparer.

7- Using a spatula, gently fold the remaining whites and leeks mixture together.

7- A l’aide d’une maryse, incorporer délicatement les blancs au mélange de poireaux.

8- Fill the soufflé mold to the edges. At this point, the soufflé can be refrigerated, and will keep for at least a couple of hours. At baking time, sprinkle some Gruyere cheese on top and place on a cookie sheet in a 375F-preheated oven. Reduce the heat to 350F and bake for 30-35 minutes (about 25 minutes for individual ramekins). Never open the oven when it’s still baking. Serve immediately.

8- Remplir le moule à soufflé jusqu’aux bords. A ce stade, le soufflé peut etre mis au frais pour quelques heures. Au moment de le cuire, parsemer un peu de gruyère râpé au dessus et faites cuire dans un four préchauffé a 190C. Baisser la temperature a 177C et laisser cuire pendant 30-35 minutes (Environ 25 minutes pour des ramequins). Ne jamais ouvrir le four pendant la cuisson du soufflé. Servir tout de suite.

9- You can also serve your soufflé, especially if it is collapsed, unmolded. Run a knife a round the edges and invert on a plate. Serve in wedges.

9- Vous pouvez aussi choisir de servir le soufflé démoulé (surtout si ce dernier est tombé). Faites passer un couteau autour des bords et démouler. Servir en tranches.

Where are you autumn?

We haven’t heard from you in weeks. You are supposed to be here. The calendar says October, but the warm sun on my shoulders says spring. I look outside my window and even with orange trees and crunchy leaves on the street, nothing says you’re near. I see pumpkins and witches dressing my town. I smell apple cider and fresh baked donuts, but people are in sleeveless shirts and baring shoes, and nothing says you’re near.

Where are you autumn?

Where are you so I can wear my warm slippers and colorful scarves? So I can lay down on the couch with my daughter, hugged by a warm striped blanket. So I can see the early morning mist and run under the pouring rain looking for a shelter. So I can look outside my window and think to myself: “there is nothing like home!” So I can eat bowls of lentils and green split peas and spicy soups. So I can run on my way to bed and have a hard time getting out of it.

Where are you so I can miss summer and appreciate what nature has to offer? Where are you autumn so I can take a break at four and enjoy a cup of hot chocolate?

Where are you? I brought you some cookies; jam filled cookies. I thought you might wanna come for a visit.

I love strawberry jam filled cookies, especially when they are buttery and melting. Your cookies must be so tender even a toddler, with only six teeth can eat them without any problem.

You might ask yourself: “but what’s so special about her jam filled cookies? I know how to make them!”

Well what I am about to give you is the BEST jam filled cookies you’ve ever had. And I even added some tricks and tips from my own experience:

1- Butter has to be at room temperature. It’s very important for it to be mixed properly with the icing sugar. Take it out of the fridge hours before using it.

2- The recipe here calls for plain flour, but instead I always use cake (pastry) flour instead, it works much better. It gives a “fragile” touch to the cookie. If you don’t have cake flour, you can use a mixture of plain flour and corn starch (¾ measure of plain flour for ¼ measure of corn starch)

3- Sift all the dry ingredients.

4- The thickness of the cookies should be the same so that they all cook evenly. ½ inch (1.27cm) to ¾ inch (1.90cm) is the perfect thickness.

5- Count the cookies. Each center cut cookie has to have its pair.

6- Bake them at low temperature (325 °F-165 °C) and keep a close eye on them.

7- Share them with your loved ones and even with strangers, who will love you after that.

Strawberry Jam Sandwich Cookies

Recipe: adapted from here
- 9 ounces plain flour
- 1 ½ ounces cornstarch
- ½ tsp Kosher Salt
- 1 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
- ¾ cup confectioner’s (icing) sugar, plus extra for dusting
- 1 ½ tsp vanilla extract
- Strawberry Jam or any kind of jam.

In a large bowl, combine the butter and the confectioner’s sugar. Beat until smooth. Add the vanilla and beat until well blended. Add flour, cornstarch and salt and mix until the dough comes together in large clumps.  Press the dough together into a ball, and then divide it in half. Flatten each ball into a disk, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate until firm, about 40 min. Roll out the dough on a lightly floured surface. Cut out the cookies using a cookie cutter of your choice, and cut out the center of half of the cookies. Place the cookies on a baking sheet lined with baking paper (parchment paper) and bake at 325°F, one sheet pan at a time, for about 12-15 min or until the edges are light brown. Let them cool for 5 min on the baking sheet before transferring them to cool completely on a wire rack.  Using a fine-mesh sieve, dust the cookies that has been cut in the center with icing sugar. Spread the jam over the cookie that hasn’t been cut in the center. Place the cutout cookies on top of the jam-covered cookies. These cookies can be stored in an airtight container for up to four days.

 Petits Sablés a la Confiture de Fraise

 In francais please: adaptée d’ici
- 265g de farine
- 50g de Maizena
- ½ c.c de sel
- 250g de beurre mou
- 90g de sucre glace
- 1 ½ c.c d’extrait de vanille
- Confiture de fraise ou autre

Dans une jatte, mélanger le beurre et le sucre glace. Battre jusqu’a ce qu’il osit bien incorporé. Ajouter la vanille et mélanger encore. Ajouter la farine, maizena et sel et battre jusqu’a ce que la pate se forme.
Former deux patons de la meme taille. Couvrir de film alimentaire et mettre au frais pendant 40 min.

  adaptée Dans une jatte, mélanger le beurre et le sucre glace. Battre jusqu’a ce qu’il osit bien incorporé. Ajouter la vanille et mélanger encore. Ajouter la farine, maizena et sel et battre jusqu’a ce que la pate se forme.Former deux patons de la meme taille. Couvrir de film alimentaire et mettre au frais pendant 40 min.Etaler la pate au rouleau de patisserie sur une surface légerement farinée. Découper les petits sables a l’aide d’un emporte piece de votre choix, puis couper le center de chaque petit sable en tenant en compte le fais que chaque petit sablé coupé au center doit avoir son fond qui va etre sans découpage au centre.

Mettre les sable sur une plaque a patisserie tapissée de papier sulfurisé. Faites cuire a 165°C, un plateau a la fois, pendant 12-15 min ou jusqu’a ce que les bords deviennent légerement dorés.

Laisser refroidir 5 min sur la plaque a pattiserie avant de transfere vers la grille de patisserie pour refroidir completement.

Saupoudrer chaque sablé decoupé au centre de sucre glace. Garnir les sables qui n’ont pas été decoupé au centre de confiture et couvrir des sables au sucre glace.

Peut se garder pendant 4 jours dans une boite hermétique.