Wolfert

Well there are plenty of long cooked dishes served along the Mediterranean coast and lots of them require olive oil. The gargoulette you tasted in Djerba had olive oil in it and it was cooked all night in a claypot. Think too of tians in Provence and tiellas in southern Italy. I think you could say that cooks are obliged to use the fat that their land offers them. That's what nature has provided and so they figure out ways to make it work for them. Corinne: It's true that olive oil is good for you. And just to throw a bombshell into this conversation; the people of SWF live longer on a whole than those in Provence and they don't use olive oil--- they cook with duck fat. See page 18 for the scientific background.

The integrity of a traditional dish is very important to me, but I'll happily alter a recipe to make it work for my North American readers. Integrity means using the correct ingredients from the region to make a regional specialty. But then the question arises: "Whose recipe should I use?" This can present a quandry as there are often many variations, as many as there are fine regional cooks. I once wrote that "authenticity is always my guide, but I try not to let it become my straightjacket." I just select the rendition I like the best and that I think can be made successfully in an American home kitchen.

I'm pretty sure that French Basques and French Catalans are looking over their shoulders at what's been happening in Spain and doing their best to go into "experimental mode." As for Basque cuisine, I'm delighted that piment d'Espelette is finally available here as without it the old dishes just don't taste the same. As for "hotspots," I steered away from them for this edition, having been "burned" (or perhaps I should say "suckered in") by a few SWF nouvelle recipes that I have since removed.

Hi Adam, Actually I removed traditional as well as un-representative dishes. An example of the former: Enchaud of pork, which didn't test well with most American pork, and frankly wasn't very interesting when prepared here. It's a dish I'd much prefer to eat in the Perigord where farm people put enchaud of pork up like confit then let it improve with time. A very important consideration in the updating process was the availability of ingredients. I was a lot less concerned with the culinary changes in the region.

I befriended Jean Louis when he had Les Cordeliers in the village of Condom, and got to know him even better when he came to the States. At one point I went down to D.C. to write about what he was doing at the Watergate Hotel. It was there that he showed me this soup and I had an excellent taste memory of it. I consulted him later when I decided to try and cut it back to a more practical size. His recipes have such "good legs" (i.e. structure) that they work well, even when adapted. I think I made it four or five times before I was finally happy with it. I'm thrilled you liked it! Try his tangerine sauce on scallops. It's a winning recipe.

I think everything you mention is true to a certain degree. I don't think people have altered their home cooking that much; the great SW ingredients are available to make everyday food. The most popular fat medium is still duck fat. That being said, I doubt very many people cook the same way their grandmothers did. I know I don't. As a food writer (and self-styled "culinary anthropologist") I always try to accurately record what I find in order to preserve it even if it's not common practice in home kitchens. As to whether SWF food is practiced in other parts of France, I know at Christmas foie gras is cooked everywhere in France. And confit is served and eaten everywhere too. In regard to the cuisine being preserved and enlivened by both restaurant and home cooks. One restaurant that does, and one of my favorites since the old days, is La Tupina in Bordeaux. There are others that "keep the flame" as Chef Xiradakis does, but his really is my favorite. There are wonderful inventive chefs in SW France and I love new and exciting food , but the truth is when I travel there, I want to eat something traditional.

Outside testers were a revelation. I learned a lot from them and in three cases actually removed recipes from the book after discussion with my testers, retesting and then concluding that I could replace the dish with something better and more useful. For example, a fruit terrine tested by two egulleteers was deemed terrific but a lot of work. They were right. I took it out of the book and posted it on my website for anyone interested in making It. Also, based on my experience with the testers, I decided to remove kitchen timings (as opposed to cooking times!) because I discovered that some cook more slowly than others and I didn't want anyone to feel rushed or inhibited abouy taking on some of the more demanding dishes. Would I work with testers again? Absolutely! In a skillet-cooked minute! With the claypot book I need to test recipes in lots of different kinds of clay pots, so feedback will be especially important as to cooking duration, etc

I believe the vinegar works like creme fraiche and makes the yolks creamier in texture. Also, the flavor is better with a little vinegar added to yolks.

Hi Russ, What a great question [as they say!] Ok, I definitely do see a continuum but my emphasis is on the traditional. Still I don't feel I can ignore the modern contributions of some of the brilliant chefs such as Michel Bras who use traditional ingedients of their regions (in his case, the Auvergne), in new and startlingly fascinating ways. As you know, I'm very selective. There're lots of new chef's dishes being served in SWF, but only a few interest me. I still prefer a connection to the traditional woman's cooking, which I think of as "the base." I feel that important technical breakthroughs such as sous vide cannot be ignored and I present a few recipes where I think the idea works well. The duck confit for cassoulet is a perfect example because the chunks of boned duck are baked for a second long cooking and remain flavorful and moist. But in the end it's the home cooking tradition that I love, which led me to chefs such as Lucien Vanel (my absolute favorite!) who raised his mother's cooking at an incredible level. I can see why some would be troubled by my combination of old and new dishes, but, to paraphrase DeGaulle (who said of his enemy, Sartre: "Sartre too is France"), these new dishes too are of the South-West.

Thank you for your kind words. Check out page 97 for an explanation of stratification of sauces. "The fster the evaporation, the better the emulsification"is the rule for creating a sauce by stratification. If you stir often you are just cooling down the sauce.

Tians, tagines and cazuelas are all pots developed by potters for specific dishes. I'm not sure but I think the French poet Paul Valéry wrote about ceramics: "The idea of the shape precedes the shape."

So happy to read you are enjoying the book. When I develop recipes I always try to duplicate the tastes and aromas of the dishes I taste during research. Every once in a while I do find some wiggle-room to reduce the workload, but I try never to dumb down a recipe.

An important sub-theme, and the lead into the memoir/anecdote material, will be my conviction that "every pot tells a tale." Thus a memory of a dish may be evoked by a pot in my collection, which might then evoke a remembrance of a culinary adventure from my forty-plus years of travels around the Mediterranean in search of recipes. Not every recipe will include a story, perhaps only a third. These adventures will range from interesting (and often amusing) interactions with Mediterranean women, as well as such food and literary personalities as Richard Olney, James Beard, Dione Lucas, Jack Kerouac, Paul & Jane Bowles, etc. I've whittled down the amount of pots needed by the cook to prepare most of the recipes to just a few.

I agree in part. It's really a matter of degree between SW France and the region you describe. But I think it has less to do with climate then with the cooking medium: animal fat i.e. duck fat versus olive oil.

Susan Fahning (aka snowangel), Elie Nassar (aka foodman) and I warmly welcome you to participate in this eG Spotlight Conversation with Paula Wolfert as she smooths and shines her quills and comes forth to answer our questions about her life, vocation, and the recently released new edition of The Cooking of Southwest France, Recipes from France's Magnificent Rustic Cuisine. Welcome, Paula. Let this latest eG Spotlight Conversation begin! To post a question, click "New Thread" at the top of this forum. Each question will be its own topic. Once a question has been posted, we ask that the membership refrain from any additional posts or commentary until Paula has had the opportunity to respond to the post directly. Once Paula’s response is up, the topic is open for in depth discussion by all members, and we warmly encourage followup conversation. Please note that this eG Conversation may be moderated, and your question may not appear as soon as you post it. ← I'm delighted to be here and thank you in advance for your always thoughtful questions. I'll do my best to answer them all. To your question on changes between the two editions. I gave this a lot of thought. In the end, I decided to take out the recipes (good as many of them were) which, I felt, didn't really stand the test of time. But really the biggest change wasn't in the SWF, as one might expect, but here in North America where now numerous ingredients are readily available which were obscure or unobtainable twenty-three years ago. To mention a few: verjus, moutarde violette, piment d'Espelette, Moulard ducks, Banyuls vinegar, Tarbais beans, Toulouse sausage, etc. This made it possible to duplicate authentic tastes, and that meant reworking many of the recipes in which, previously, I'd employed substitute products. So I think the biggest difference, aside from recipes dropped and new ones added, is the revision of so many of the original recipes. I believe the book is even better now, and, most important to me, truer to the originals.

Ciao Faith, Thanks for your kind words. My next work will be my most personal cookbook -- a collection of delicious, earthy French Southwest and Mediterranean country recipes, often introduced with culinary memoir material. However, unlike the current spate of culinary memoirs, in which authors recount stories and then include a few recipes, my book will be first and foremost a working cookbook, organized by chapter in the traditional way: first courses, breads, soups, meat dishes, fish dishes, etc. All the recipes will be prepared in ceramic pots -- earthenware or stoneware vessels.

Penzeys does a good job of breaking down the different types of cinnamon and cassia. http://www.penzeys.com/cgi-bin/penzeys/p-p...yscinnamon.html

Batter Cake with Fresh Pears from the Correze -- Flaugnarde Serves 4 as Dessert. From The Cooking of Southwest France, published by John Wiley and Sons, Inc. Copyright 2005 by Paula Wolfert "It's our best dessert," says Albert Parveaux, proprietor of the Chateau de Castel Novel. He is speaking of the flaugnarde of Corrèze, a superb soufflé-like fruit cake, similar to a German apple pancake. "But," he adds, "its simplicity is misunderstood by some of our guests, who think complexity is the same thing as excellence." He explained the secrets of a successful flaugnarde: "First, never put sugar into it the way they do in the Périgord, because it won't rise on account of the extra weight. Second, be sure to use a metal dish, since metal heats up quicker and thus will give the batter a better rise. Third, only fill the pan to one third of its height‑the flaugnarde will thus have room to rise, and it will in fact fill the pan when baked. You must eat this dessert while hot, though it will hold its rise as long as 10 minutes. When serving, slip it out of its pan onto a serving plate; then dust heavily with granulated sugar. Be sure and visit the Cooking of the Southwest France topic in the cooking forum for a discussion of the book, testing notes and photos. 3 eggs 7 oz (about 1 1/2 cups) unbleached pastry flour Pinch of salt 1 c warm milk 1 T dark rum 2 tasty sweet pears, such as Cornice or Anjou 2-1/2 T unsalted butter Superfine sugar 2 TO 3 1/2 HOURS BEFORE SERVING, lightly beat the eggs in a mixing bowl. Sift the flour and salt; add to the eggs, stirring. Add 2 tablespoons warm milk and mix until the batter is completely smooth. Gradually stir in the remaining milk and the rum. Strain through a fine sieve and let stand at room temperature for 1 to 2 1/2 hours. About 1 HOUR BEFORE SERVING, preheat the oven to 450°F. Peel, , halve, core, and thinly slice the pear; the 3 mm slicing disk of a food processor is perfect for the job. Using half the butter, lavishly grease a 8‑ or 9‑inch cake pan or straight‑sided ovenproof skillet. Pour in the batter and delicately lay the fruit slices on top. Dot with the remaining butter. Bake in the bottom third of the oven for 15 minutes. Reduce the oven temperature to 400°F and bake for 30 to 35 minutes longer, or until well puffed and golden brown. Use a spatula around the edges and under the cake to loosen. Transfer to a serving dish. Sprinkle lavishly with sugar and serve within 5 minutes. Keywords: Dessert, French ( RG1487 )

Potato, Leek and White Bean soup with Olive Puree in the manner of Ciboure - La Soupe de Haricots Comme en Ciboure Serves 4 as Soup. From The Cooking of Southwest France, published by John Wiley and Sons, Inc. Copyright 2005 by Paula Wolfert This very simple, utterly delicious soup shows off the talent of Biarritz-born Gerald Hirigoyen, chef-owner of the restaurant Piperade in San Francisco. Gerald’s gift is to take a country-style nuturing dish such as this simple bean soup, and make it sing. In his restaurant, he coaxes flavor out of tomatoes, peppers, cheese, and beans, recreating the magnificent flavors of his region. Click here for a discussion of Cooking of the Southwest France on the cooking forum, which includes photos, recipe notes, etc. 1 c dried white beans, preferably Greek gigantes or French Tarbais beans 5 T extra virgin olive oil 1 sprig of fresh rosemary 3 large garlic cloves, peeled and halved 1 large leek (1/4 pound), trimmed and thinly sliced Salt 1/2 lb baking potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced 1-1/2 qt light chicken or vegetable stock, lightly salted 2 oz Picholine or other green olives, pitted, Freshly ground black pepper 8 thinly sliced rounds of French bread, toasted lightly and rubbed with garlic 1. Pick over the beans to remove any grit. Soak them overnight in 3 cups of water. Drain and rinse. 2. In a heavy 3- or 4-quart saucepan, heat half the olive oil. Add the rosemary, garlic, and leek and cook over moderately high heat until golden but not brown, about 5 minutes. Add the beans, a pinch of salt, potato slices and stock to the saucepan and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce the heat to a simmer, and cook for 1 1/2 hours, or until the beans are tender. Remove and discard the rosemary and discard. Allow the soup to cool slightly. 3. Meanwhile, soak the olives in several changes of water for 20 minutes to remove excess salt and brine. Drain the olives and place in a blender or food processor. Add the remaining olive oil and 1 to 2 tablespoons water and puree until smooth. Scrape the olive puree to a small bowl.Add the bean and potato soup to the blender or processor in batches and puree on high speed until smooth . (The recipe can be prepared ahead up to this point; cool and refrigerate.) 4. ABOUT 10 MINUTES BEFORE SERVING, gently reheat the soup. If necessary, add a little water to thin to desired consistency. Bring the soup back to a boil, then remove from the heat. Swirl in the olive puree and adjust the seasoning with salt and pepper. Serve at once and pass the garlic toasts on the side. Keywords: Soup, Easy, French ( RG1486 )

Oxtail Daube - Daube de Queue de Bœuf Serves 5 as Main Dish. From The Cooking of Southwest France, published by John Wiley and Sons, Inc. Copyright 2005 by Paula Wolfert Consider a perfectly cooked prime-grade porterhouse steak. We know it is the marbling in the meat, the streaks of fat, that make it so succulent and delicious. We know it isn’t healthy to eat much meat fat, but for flavor’s sake we do. Here is a dish which uses fat to enhance its flavor but which is served close to fat-free because it is double-degreased. In fact, when you read the recipe, you will see that I have actually added fat for extra flavor, but that is eliminated, too, before the dish is served. The result is a very soft, fleshy oxtail daube of incredible lightness and flavor. The secret is long, slow cooking in a closed pot. During this time the meat is never moved, and the juices are never allowed to boil. (If they did boil, the fats would bind with the wine and the sauce would be muddy.) Through long, slow cooking the meat renders out all of its fat; the meat and sauce retain the flavor of fat, which is water-soluble, but not the fat itself. This dish, like many stews and daubes, benefits from being made one day in advance. In fact, some of the salmis (stews of wild birds and domestic barnyard fowl) and daubes of tough cuts of meat of the South-West are slowly reheated and cooled each day for a period of four or five days so that, with each reheating, the flavors grow stronger and deeper. For our cuts of meat this is not possible—one would end up with a mushy, tasteless stew. Serve with noodles or amottes and a bitter green salad. Click here for a discussion of "The Cooking of Southwest France," complete with recipe notes and photos. 4 1/2–5 1/2 pounds oxtail, cut into pieces 1 calf’s foot or pig’s foot, split (optional for extra body) 3/4 lb slab lean salt pork 1 T olive or French peanut oil Salt and freshly ground pepper 4 medium onions, coarsely chopped 1 bottle full-bodied red wine such as Syrah 1/3 c red wine vinegar Herb bouquet: 3 sprigs parsley, 1 sprig thyme, and 1 bay leaf, tied together 2 cloves garlic, peeled 2 oz chunk jambon de Bayonne, prosciutto, or Serrano ham, cut into ½-inch dice 3/4 oz dried imported French cèpes or Italian porcini, crumbled 1. The day before you plan to serve the daube, preheat the oven to 275°F. Trim off all excess fat from the pieces of oxtail. 2. Blanch the calf’s foot and salt pork in a saucepan of boiling water for 3 minutes; drain. Slice the rind off the salt pork and reserve. Cube the salt pork and divide into 2 batches. In a heavy nonreactive skillet, heat the oil and slowly cook half the salt pork, stirring often, until the cubes turn golden brown and a great deal of their fat has rendered out, about 10 minutes. Line a flameproof ceramic or enameled cast-iron 5- or 6-quart casserole with pork rind, fat side down. Transfer the browned salt pork to the casserole. 3. Season the oxtail pieces with salt and pepper. Brown oxtail pieces over moderately high heat in batches without crowding in the skillet used to cook the salt pork, about 10 minutes per batch. As they brown, transfer the pieces to the casserole. 4. Remove and discard half the fat in the skillet. Cook onions in remaining hot fat until golden brown. Add onions to casserole. 5. Deglaze the skillet with 1 cup of the wine. Boil down to a glaze. Add another 1 cup of wine and repeat. Add the remaining wine, vinegar, and 1 1/2 cups water. Bring just to a boil and skim carefully. Pour over the meats. Add calf’s foot, herb bouquet, and garlic. Cover tightly and place in oven to cook very slowly for 3 hours without disturbing. 6. Carefully remove oxtail to a deep bowl; cover and keep moist. Remove the meat from the calf’s food while still warm and place in a food processor. Add the remaining salt pork cubes, the cooked pork rind, cooked garlic, and the ham. Grind to a smooth paste. 7. Strain the cooking liquid, pushing down on the onions to extract all their juices. Remove as much fat as possible and pour the juices into a large saucepan. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to moderate, and boil slowly, skimming from time to time, until reduced by one third. 8. Carefully return the pieces of oxtail to the casserole and spread the meat paste on top. Add the reduced liquid. Rinse the cèpes under running water, drain, and add to the casserole. Cover and bake in a 275°F. oven for 2 ½ hours without disturbing. 9. Remove the casserole from the oven; transfer the oxtails to a work surface; discard any loose bones. Season with salt and pepper, place in a bowl, and cover and refrigerate. Separately, cover and refrigerate the cooking liquid 10. About 2 ½ hours before serving, preheat the oven to 275°F. Remove the jellied liquid from the refrigerator and lift off all congealed fat. Combine liquid and meat in the casserole, cover and reheat the daube without stirring for 1 ½ hours. 11. To serve, remove the oxtails to a deep heatproof platter. Cover with foil and keep warm in the turned-off oven. Strain the sauce into a small saucepan, pressing down on solids. Bring the sauce to a boil and cook at a slow boil, half over the heat, skimming, until sauce lightly coats a spoon about 20 minutes. Adjust the seasoning. Pour over the meat and serve hot. Inspired by a recipe from Lucien Vanel, a now retired two star chef from Toulouse. Keywords: Main Dish, French ( RG1485 )

Compote of Rabbit with Prunes From The Cooking of Southwest France, published by John Wiley and Sons, Inc. Copyright 2005 by Paula Wolfert This unusual and heavenly dish of shredded rabbit and plump prunes set in aspic is Lucien Vanel’s version of an old French recipe. In the Southwest, the word compote can be applied to any sort of stewed shredded meat or poultry (rilletes). One of the problems with rabbit is that it often comes out tasteless and dry. In this dish, however, the flesh is tender and moist. When shredded, it gives the compote the texture of rillettes. The main difference between this compote and rillettes is lightness—instead of enriching it with duck, goose, or pork fat, Vanel’s recipe calls for a small amount of fresh cream. The tangy, piquant touch of sorrel rounds out the dish, and the rich, plump prunes make a sweet counterpoint and a textural impression of fat. This dish must be made 2 to 3 days in advance so the compote has time to mellow. It is wonderful on thin slices of lightly buttered toast. Click here for a discussion, comlete with recipe testing notes, photos, etc. on the cooking forum. 1 mature stewing rabbit or fryer (about 3 pounds), fresh or frozen 2 c dry white wine 2/3 c plus 2 1/2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil 3 medium onions, thinly sliced 1/2 c sliced carrots 1 shallot, sliced 1 garlic clove, halved 5 oz pancetta, cut into 1-inch cubes 2 tsp Dijon mustard 4 c unsalted chicken stock Herb bouquet: 3 sprigs parsley, 1/4 teaspoon dried thyme or 3 fresh sprigs, 1/4 teaspoon dried rosemary or 1 sprig, and 1 bay leaf tied in cheesecloth Salt and freshly ground pepper 1/2 c heavy cream 12 fresh sorrel leaves, depending upon size and pungency, finely shredded Fresh lemon juice 12 pitted prunes 1 c brewed tea, preferably linden or orange pekoe 1. Have the butcher cut the rabbit into 7 or 8 pieces. Combine the wine, 2/3 cup of the olive oil, the onions, carrot, shallot, and garlic in a large ceramic or glass bowl; mix well. Add the rabbit pieces to the marinade and turn them over until well coated. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. (Frozen rabbit defrosts directly in the marinade; add 6 hours to the marination time.) 2. THE FOLLOWING DAY, remove the rabbit and pat dry. Strain the marinade, reserving the vegetables and liquid separately. 3. Preheat the oven to 300°F. In a large skillet over moderately high heat, sauté the pancetta cubes in the remaining 2 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, transferring them to a 4-quart casserole as they are browned. 4. In the same skillet over moderate heat, brown the rabbit pieces in the fat, a few at a time, on both sides. Transfer the rabbit pieces to the casserole as they are browned. Add the reserved vegetables to the skillet and sauté over moderately high heat, stirring, for 10 minutes, or until lightly browned. Using a slotted spoon, add the vegetables to the casserole. 5. Add the mustard to the casserole. Set over low heat and cook, stirring, to blend the mustard with the juices exuded from the rabbit, pork cubes, and vegetables. 6. Pour off the fat from the skillet and deglaze with the strained marinade. Bring to a boil, stirring, then immediately remove from the heat. Slowly stir the marinade into the casserole. 7. Add the chicken stock to the casserole and bring to a boil, skimming. Add the herb bouquet, 1/4 teaspoon each salt and pepper and cover tightly. Transfer to the oven and bake, covered, for 4 hours, or until the rabbit meat is falling off the bones. 8. Carefully remove the rabbit pieces with a slotted spoon and set aside. Strain the liquid into and skim off as much fat as possible. Return the cooking liquid to a clean saucepan and bring to a boil. Set the pan half on and half off the heat and boil slowly for 20 minutes, skimming off any fat and other impurities frequently. 9. Meanwhile, bone each piece of rabbit, being sure to remove all the tiny bones with your fingers. Crush the meat with the back of a fork. Place in a wide bowl. 10. Add the cream to the reduced cooking liquid and boil until the sauce is reduced to 1 cup. Add the shredded sorrel and bring to a boil. Pour the hot sauce over the rabbit and let cool. The rabbit meat should absorb all the sauce. Season generously with salt and pepper, and, if you want extra piquancy, a few drops of lemon juice. Pack down in an oiled stainless steel bowl and let cool. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 2 and up to 7 days. 11. THE DAY THE COMPOTE IS TO BE SERVED, soak the prunes in a small saucepan of hot tea until swollen. Then simmer for 10 minutes; drain. Set aside until ready to serve. 12. About 1 HOUR BEFORE SERVING, remove the compote from the refrigerator. To serve, unmold onto a round platter. Garnish with the prunes. Keywords: Appetizer, Main Dish, French ( RG1484 )

Please correct the following typo in your copy of The Cooking of Southwest France On page 341 the amount of potatoes is incorrect. 1/2 pounds baking (russet) potatoes, preferably Idaho should read 1 1/2 pounds baking (russet) potatoes, preferably Idaho

I have heard the same thing. I was told if you don't use your unglazed tagine often you should soak the two parts in a bath of water with plenty of baking soda to remove any off smells and any possible mold.

The recipe posted on global gourmet is taken from Joan Peterson's Eat Smart inTurkey. "The recipe was provided by Nurten Tabur, wife of Feridun Tabur, Assistant General at the Hotel Dedeman in Antalya on the Mediterranean coast. It is a special dessert from her hometown, Ismit, in theh Sea of Marmara region of Turkey."---- eat smart in Turkey.

I am perfectly aware the following two suggestions are off the wall but what the h eck! gazelle and camel are used in place of lamb by soldiers and shepherds in southern Morocco. good question - i mentioned to my husband when we were enjoying the dish that lamb shoulder mightly be uniquely suited for tangia... and i like Adam's idea of using bean pot for making tangia - now i have more reason to get one ←