The Sin of Greediness

    That's what "péché de gourmandise" is French for--and the name of one of my favourite blogs. It's all about food and, as a fellow blogeuse, I have huge admiration for its author who, whenever I look has cooked something new and suitably sinful.
    Thanks to her for introducing me to two words I didn't know. I could see that herb butter, hazelnuts and parmesan played roles in Praires farcies au beurre d'herbes aux noisettes et au parmesan but praires? Hard shell clams, which I sometimes see at the local SuperU. You're warned not too cook them too long in the oven or they become, second new word of the day....caoutchouteuses...rubbery.
       Butter, white wine, I suppose you could call this a mildly sinful recipe unlike the one below for Tarte chocolat-citron au mascarpone which is deep, dark evil. I believe in never doing things by halves, especially sinning.  So, for the perfect accompaniment, follow the blog's suggestion and sip a glass of Muscat de Rivesaltes while you're at it.

       Go on, click on it. You know you want to....

Verri-nice (horrible pun, ignore it)

   Backtracking to Paris for a moment, Galeries Lafayette is another of my all-time favourite stores. The fashion floors are jaw-dropping. Name your favourite designer and they're there. The food floor is died-and-gone-to-heaven time with seemingly hand-picked cherries, meat cut with surgical skill, a vast briny choice of oysters and every condiment you can think of, including the blackcurrent mustard that I bought. 

    Across Boulevard Haussman is Lafayette Maison, four floors of gorgeousness for your home. 

    I'd promised myself an extravagant scented candle and, after much sniffing and dithering, walked away with one called "fleurs blanches" made by Gilles Dewavrin--whom I will immediately Google to see if a real M'sieu de Wavrin exists. He does and, wasting a pleasant five minutes at his site, www.gillesdewavrin.net/en/home I can only say I wish Mac would come up with a scratch-and-sniff laptop. Turns out my chosen candle is a blend of lilies, roses, carnations and jasmine, and will burn for 40 hours.

    One floor down from the scented candles is the basement, filled with desirable kitchen stuff. Pots, pans, china, glasses--and little glasses. The restaurant tradition of starting dinner with an amuse has gone mainstream. I began my slide down the slippery slope with  a cookbook on verrines. Then, obviously, I had to buy a half dozen little glasses. A couple of evenings ago, I launched them on their glassy gourmet career. 

    Like most of the verrines, this is just simple assembly and, if you've done your prep ahead of time, it only takes a couple of minutes to put together. The recipe doesn't say you should assmble it at the last moment but I reckon that it might end up looking like a dog's breakfast if you put it together ahead of time. 

So, from the bottom up, we have: 

1) layer of black tapenade

2) first layer of fresh mozzarella

3) layer of combined chopped fresh and sundried tomatoes

4) second layer of mozarella

5) layer of pesto

6) second layer of tomato mixture

...and a basil leaf on top, plus a couple of grissini.  

P.S. I have a feeling that these little glasses will get used muchly for desserts. By the time you've made it through entrée, plat and cheese course, you really only want a few spoonfuls of sweetness. There's a certain lemon-and-white-chocolate mousse scribbled with dark chocolate that's calling my name...

Easiest Summer Dessert Ever

   This is assuming that you can get your hands on a tub of crème fraîche--and I'm talking about the super-strength 30 percent variety not low-fat (what's the point of low-fat anything? Just eat less of the real stuff). After that, all you need are fresh glistening strawberries and--we've tried both on recent nights--finely chopped hazelnuts or praline powder, both of which I can buy at local supermarkets.

   I hardly need to explain the technique. Dip strawberry in crème, then dip in solids. Repeat until strawberries are gone. That dark slick on the plate? That's a scoop of devilishly dark chocolate ice cream. When it comes to dessert, I always believe in gilding the lily.

Fromage Blanc: My Current Favourite Dessert

Translating as "white cheese", light and snow-white, this simple, slightly sharp substance--like yogurt but better--is a fine way to end a meal.

Dessert was included in the pizza lunch we ate yesterday in Foix. Nothing complicated. Just the usual choices of fruit tarte, chocolate mousse, crème caramel and--the obvious pick--fromage frais, topped with either honey or coulis.

In my time, I've had both. Honey cuts the gentle acidity of fromage frais. Coulis accentuates it. This was a raspberry coulis, the berries cooked, then pushed through a sieve, no extra sugar added. Not only delicious but a crimson and cream photo op.