I am home. Sans baggage (my suitcase decided to take a Swiss Air flight home instead of the one we were on); but home.

Coming home after ten days away is a little unsettling. You have to jump back into to all your old routines, the ones that you totally abandoned while gone. Like cooking for yourself and cleaning up afterwards. Taking care of the dogs and cats. Speaking English again while my head is still whirling with long forgotten French words and phrases. It will take a few days to recalibrate I think. My body is here but my brain is in France.

As I type this entry I have started the long process of transferring the 500-odd photos I took from Rick’s laptop to my computer. Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with all 500+ of them! So, photos are coming.

Can anyone tell me why after eating more than I normally do and lots and lots of bread that I actually lost the last two stubborn pounds I could not get off before I left? I could not believe my eyes this morning when I stepped on the scale!

Rick and I both reconnected with the French people and France itself in a big way. We did not feel foreign at all. As we found our old house and the medieval village where we used to live and finding some things changed but most things not, it was very bittersweet. Also reconnecting with friends Greg and Danièle who we had not seen since they had a short working stint in the U. S. in 1996 was wonderful. Maybe even a plan down the road to meet them in Normandy and share a vacation.

Our French came back quickly, which was a good thing. In fact, I think it was even better than when we had lived there! We tried to do everything in French, but at times it was easier to switch to English when it was obvious they were just as comfortable speaking English with us once we had started in French. Restaurant speak and little daily things are easy. The things we can’t do are banter back and forth, tease and joke; all of which are part of the way the French communicate with each other. But it felt good to be understood and to also understand and even translate for the the guys that were there for the training from other countries. Sometimes my French was too good and the answer to the question I had asked came rushing forth in a torrent of French far too fast and complicated for my brain to take in. It felt good and very satisfying.

France is very special. I get it; it gets me. I could live there (again). There is just something about it that’s hard to explain, but it has to do with the people themselves and what is important to them, the way they live, their connection to the food that nourishes them, the beautiful countryside and more that all work together to form a very pleasing whole.

I mean, really. Where else could you go to have a 7 course four-and-a-half hour Sunday lunch of absolutely wonderful food looking out on the beautiful Rhône river amongst the vineyards of the Côte-Rôtie?

More to follow ...

Please sing like you’re Richard Burton singing to Gwen in the forest to the tune of Camelot.

Hamalot! (da da da da da da) Hamalot!
For Easter we did bake a very large ham
We did not want to see it go to waste
It was so very good
We just knew that we should
eat all of it we could
that’s why last week we ate and ate and ate
Hamalot!

Okay. Not great lyrics but it’s the best I could come up with and I’ve procrastinated with this blog post long enough. Be done!

Really, it’s true. Last week was Hamalot week at our house. We ate ham—alot. The ham was actually “free” having acquired it by spending enough money at the ShopRite within a certain amount of time to earn the points to get either a ham, turkey or large frozen Stouffer’s lasagna. (Don’t ask about the lasagna, I can’t explain other than to say we live in a very Italian area.) It was one of the best hams we’ve ever eaten, so we wanted to pay homage to the pig who gave it’s life and not waste any of it. I went on a mission to seek out recipes to incorporate the ham. I had the idea to photograph each thrifty meal as we went.

After our Easter meal of baked ham, baked white sweet potato (or Jersey potato as Colorado likes to call them and not sure why) and creamed brussel sprouts with bacon, the second night’s meal was this:

Pan-fried ham slices with panko roasted asparagus.

If you like asparagus, you’re going to love this way of cooking it. Thick spears are coated with a mixture of mayonnaise, (I use Hellman’s Light)  a touch of lemon juice and dijon mustard then rolled in panko crumbs. Roast until toasty. Yum.

Third Hamalot night was a salad with thin slices of ham and Jarlsberg cheese, mushrooms and celery served on a bed of mixed salad greens and a white wine-dijon style dressing.

Fourth night was an old family recipe that I have never made before: Cheese Pie. My mom used to make this around Easter time for my dad who loved it. The recipe came from my Nana (grandmother on my father’s side) who was Italian. The origins of the recipe I think are in fact English or Scottish since her husband was of English descent. I’m not really certain. Maybe it was really Italian, but I don’t think so. If anyone knows anything about the origins, please let me know! It didn’t seem to have the same consistency of mom’s but it was pretty good. The ham was finely ground and added to cottage cheese. Who knows what “cottage” cheese may have meant at the time the recipe was written? I tried to use the thickest curd I could find but it still lacked something.

The next night was a pizza. Store-purchased wheat pizza dough, homemade easy tomato sauce, chopped ham (of course) and leftover pineapple pieces from another meal (shrimp tacos, I think). I can’t tell you how good this was!

The last and final night I made split pea soup using the bone and chopping up the rest of the meat. I always look forward to split pea soup after having ham!

And so ends our Hamalot week. I think you’ll agree that we did the old pig justice! Now neither of us want ham for another year!
~oink oink~

Well, Jan and Elizabeth, you are mostly correct! Yesterday’s photos were the reflection of the range hood light in the bottom of the aluminum roasting pan that was going to act as a bain marie for making this delectable dessert:

I give you Chocoflan!

Try not to drool too much. Take a closer look why don’t you?

This recipe from Rick Bayless is absolutely to die for. Chocolate cake and flan, what could be better? It’s a bit complicated because of making the Cajeta but worth every minute. Once you make the cajeta it will keep for about a month, so we’ve made this twice. I think twice is enough until next year!

Cajeta is just a caramel sauce. You might be able to use a store bought one in its place. When Rick ordered his unpasteurized milk to make cheese several weeks ago he also ordered the fresh goat’s milk to make the cajeta. It’s really only a matter of cooking the milk slowly for a few hours until it caramelizes.

The cake itself is magic. First the cajeta gets spread on the bottom of the cake pan. Next comes the chocolate cake batter, then the flan mixture gets carefully poured on top.

During the cooking process, the two layers exchange places and the flan ends up on the bottom (or if you will, the top once the cake is turned out of the pan). Like I said: magic! Since the flan mixture filters through the cake layer, it infuses the cake with gooey moisture. Sheer heaven, trust me.

I’ll bet you had no idea that the answer was going to end up being connected with a dessert recipe!

And, oh yes, of course the last photo was of the rain against the sliding glass door in our living room. Thanks to those who played along!

P.S. There is chocoflan left is anybody wants to stop by for a taste!

Imagine in your mind, if you will, a dinner party without a table.

On Sunday we were hosting a dinner party. We had ordered a cassoulet “kit” from D’Artagnan and had invited a few friends we knew would enjoy eating duck + duck fat, beans, and sausage. A real peasant’s meal!

Let me preface by saying our dining room table is old. If not antique, very vintage. We’ve owned it since 1985 and it was vintage/antique then. Made of quarter-sawn oak, it truly is beautiful. But, it’s Queen Anne style legs are very fragile. Rick has had to bolster two out of the four legs up over the years to keep the old girl in service.

We were putting the extra leaf in the table when it happened. Even though we were being very careful how we moved the table (one of the legs had been a bit wobbly for a few years), when I set the table back down on its legs, the wobbly one split and fell off. Oh dear. In case it hasn’t occurred to you, having a table with only three legs does not work well for dinner parties of six people. With guests due in two hours we had several choices.

1) Try to fix the table leg by gluing it and hoping it held.
2) Stack up books on that end of the table to take the place of the leg.
3) Eat Japanese style on the floor.
4) Bring up the table from the basement that used to be in our kitchen in Colorado that we haven’t used in four years.

Gluing the leg didn’t really seem like much of an option. Two hours is not much time to try and do something like that. I saw the scene playing out in my head something like this. Everyone sitting down to a beautifully laid table. Rick bringing in the heavy cast iron pot of cassoulet and setting it down on the table for ease of family-style serving. The minute the pot of cassoulet hits the table that’s the last straw for the quick-fix table leg (or stack of books) and everything goes crashing to the floor (including the guest sitting closest to the leg). So now not only do we have a broken table, but nothing to eat or eat off of either since everything is now on the floor in a pile of broken shards, beans, and duck legs.

Erase that scene from your mind because it didn’t happen. We chose option No. 4 which was not without it’s own set of difficulties.

First we had to get the broken table down to the basement. Did I mention above that Rick had fixed two of the legs previously? He fixed them so sturdily that they do not come off anymore. No way. And, this old table is extremely wide so it was not going to fit down the stairs to the basement without the legs coming off. Just not happening. So, out the front door we went with our cumbersome and sad broken table, through the gate to the back yard, down through the yard to the basement door and into the basement where she awaits surgery sometime in the far off future.

Here you can see one leg that’s been reinforced and the broken one.

I love that table. {sniff sniff}

Next, we had to get the other table out of the basement and upstairs to the dining room. First I had to remove the boxes that were being stored on top of it and create a path around it. It’s big. It’s heavy. Heavier than the other table. A good sturdy farmhouse style table. All I can say is it’s a good thing the legs come off this one and it could be moved up the basement stairs instead of around the yard and into the front door. Even though it was only the top it was just too heavy for me to lift, so we had to enlist the help of neighbor Mark across the street (who just happened to be one of our anticipated guests).

Soon we had the legs back on the table, the table set and ready for guests, and near disaster diverted.

The dinner party that almost wasn’t turned into the dinner party that was.

The “new” look for the dining room.

Rick and me in the pantry on the Chopped set.

Our trip to go into the city for our CHOPPED experience was planned perfectly for the day before our big snow storm. I love driving in to the city over the GW bridge. (That’s what the George Washington bridge is commonly called around here.) Built in 1931, it’s a beautiful bridge. It’s a double-decker bridge and carries a huge number of vehicles across the mighty Hudson with no less than 14 lanes of traffic. I like being on top for the view, but then you have to share the road with all the trucks since they are not allowed on the lower deck.

Even more beautiful with it’s lacy trusses, is the Queensboro Bridge. It was completed in 1909. Very grand.

But I’m certain you don’t want to hear about the bridges, so I’ll get on with CHOPPED.

Walking up to the studio I saw a man dressed in a suit standing outside. I whispered to Rick “That looks like him, Ted Allen.” And it was. We walked right by him. I was trying hard not to stare so I just cast a furtive glance his way. He looked exactly like he does on TV. Kind of short, slight of build. Also standing around outside on break was one of the contestant chefs. Once inside the building, sitting right there in a chair texting on his phone was one of the judges, Geoffrey Zakarian. At this point I was feeling a little bit star-struck! Geoffrey Zakarian is quite handsome in person!

We had arrived during lunch break (2:30 p.m.) which was good and bad. Good because we got a private tour of the whole set; bad because we only got to see a small portion of the actual filming.

They take over Jerry’s entire studio, bringing a cast and crew of over 70 people with them. Poor Jerry has to rent out a studio across town if he has any commercials to do himself, and he’s relegated to a tiny shared office space. On the way down to Jerry’s office we passed the makeup and wardrobe room and Ted Allen’s dressing room.

So, let the tour begin! And what better place to start than the judge’s table (sans judges of course). I had to be respectful what I snapped photos of, I’m sure you understand.

The cooking area.

And just look at all the cameras and lights, both on the floor and in the ceiling!

Looking back toward the cooking and pantry section from the judge’s table.

We saw the rooms where they do the little interviews with the contestant chefs which they show throughout the show as insertions. We talked to two of the chefs and asked them how it was going. One said “well at least I made it through the appetizer course and I’m still here!” She looked and sounded familiar with her heavy accent. Hmm… The other chef looked very familiar too, like we had seen him already on the show. I told him I didn’t know how they made anything out of the basket ingredients. He shook his head, smiled and said “it isn’t easy!” We wished them luck and continued on our little tour.

Down in the area where the buffet lunch was set up was Alex Guarnaschelli chatting with some people. She looks exactly like she does on television too.

Also down here is where they photograph the food and the “chopped” plate. Ever wonder why the chefs have to make four plates of food for three judges? Here is the reason: one must be made for the shot.

Lunch break was over and we walked right through the set as they were starting back up again. All the judges were seated at their table and we saw the third and final celebrity chef judge, Marc Murphy.  We walked back to Jerry’s office to give them time to get rolling again. I was telling him how two of the contestant chefs looked so familiar to us, so he checked the filming schedule and sure enough they were filming “Winners Week” where previous winners are invited back to compete against each other. I knew I had seen them before and not too long ago either! I’m not sure exactly when the segment we saw will air, but the following day they were doing “Halloween,” so I’m assuming it’s some time in the fall.

After spending some time with Rick and Jerry talking shop (Phantom cameras), we walked up to the control room to watch. The judges were discussing the chef’s dishes and what they liked or didn’t like about them. This was pretty interesting because the cameras were rolling as each judge just talked. They said the same thing about 15 different ways. How many ways of saying the chicken was too salty can you come up with? You’d be surprised! Obviously here is where the magic of editing takes place in choosing which clip with which phrasing goes into the final cut. After they all had their say (again and again) they took another break. They did a lot of that!

It was very interesting being up in the control room with all the monitors showing all the camera angles. Each monitor had the name of the person behind that particular camera and the director would be constantly telling them what to do. Zoom in here, get a close-up of the chefs all waiting to be chopped, show me the plate, etc. How he kept track of everything was pretty impressive.

It takes somewhere around 17 hours to tape an entire show, and since we were only there for a few hours we didn’t get to see a lot. We did however see the next chef get CHOPPED! Sorry, I can’t divulge any names! I wish we had seen the actual cooking part, but we didn’t. With any luck we’ll be invited back again in the fall when they are taping again.

And here is Rick pretending he’s being chopped by the door the chefs walk by after they are CHOPPED. On the show the door slides shut as the chef who’s been chopped walks by it. Someone must be on the other side of the door sliding it shut because it’s not an automatic door!

As we were leaving they were on break (again) and Ted Allen was just outside the door. Rick was brave and just stuck out his hand and introduced himself (and me too of course). So, I got to shake Ted Allen’s hand and chat for a few minutes until they were called back in to continue with their taping.

All in all, a very fun day! I have so much more appreciation for what we watch on television as the final product! If you haven’t ever watched the show I encourage you to do so. Maybe I’ve piqued your interest just a little bit?

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