A couple of years ago, I worked on the Olida Express account for a Montreal advertising agency. And Olida belongs to Fleury Michon, which is how I came to learn of this brand ubiquitous in France. Then, because it’s a small world, I was recently invited to the launch of Fleury Michon’s ready-to-eat line in Montreal.

If I may put on my ad writer hat for a second, I actually like the way the brand positions itself. At the time, I interviewed one of its chefs and could feel his deep commitment to good food. He explained to me how easy it is to create a recipe at home but how hard it is to replicate on a production chain. Some ingredients may not be lend themselves to mass manufacturing, have little to no shelf life, and prove cost-prohibitive when 4 servings turn into 4 million… It’s quite the balancing act.

Which of course makes me yearn for, and respect, “clean label” foods even more.

For the launch, I received a box with two Fleury Michon products. One was Surimi, pollock sticks stuffed with cream cheese and basil, which I disliked to the core of my being. But a French friend of mine was dancing with joy and nibbling away when I showed it to her. So, hey, chalk it up to cultural differences?

The Thai Coconut Chicken I liked. Served with a side of jasmine rice, it was fragrant and real tasting (not so much in a “Thai way” if you’re a hot Thai-food addict like me, but in a “real food” way). I also approved of the serving size which shows typical French restraint. The ingredient list is longish but natural. The twist? The entrées are fresh, not frozen, with a 30-day fridge life thanks to pasteurization.

As part of its crossover launch, Fleury Michon recruited the services of chef extraordinaire Danny St Pierre of Auguste Restaurant in Sherbrooke, one of my fave toques in Quebec, as a consultant (Joël Robuchon plays that part in France). Getting local chefs involved is always a good sign. So if you’re looking for lunch ideas on-the-run, you may want to check them out at the grocery store.

Brand: Fleury Michon is a leading brand in France virtually unknown in Quebec. These new ready-to-heat entrées are meant to change all that. Initially sold at IGA, it’s being extended to more stores throughout Quebec.

Price: Usually $5.49 to $5.99

I mostly cook from scratch which is my my way of making sure my family eats healthy foods. My bechamel doesn’t come from an envelope and my—killer—tomato sauce is homemade. Once in a while, like any harried mom, I will open a jar of something or other to improvise a quick supper. Which doesn’t mean I let my guard down: for a jar to enter this house, it has to be “clean label,” i.e. made with real ingredients whose names you can pronounce. (Of course, since I often write packagings for food clients, I don’t let things like Citric Acid scare me off.)

When Fresh Sauces asked if I would participate in the Summer Fresh Sauces Recipe Challenge organized with Food Bloggers of Canada, I agreed because it sounded like the kind of product I’d buy in a pinch. I cooked with four of the sauces (sorry, I couldn’t get behind the Cranberry Madeira…). But the Mushroom Marsala, Butter Chicken, Thai Curry and 3 Peppercorn were nice and above all convenient.

Here’s the recipe I made with the Mushroom Marsala sauce that my family loved best. I amped the mushroom profile and voilà! A quick supper that rallied everyone around the table. BTW I didn’t win the Recipe Challenge. It might have helped if I’d posted this recipe on time. Oh well.

Turkey Marsala with Fried Sage

Serves 4

N.B. I write for the Turkey Producers of Québec and it’s a mystery to me why people don’t eat more turkey with the increasing variety of cuts available. Turkey has great umami and pairs with everything while being the lowest-fat protein after sole. Turkey steaks are easy to cook, beyond tasty and a healthy choice for anyone’s family. And no, my client didn’t pay me to say so…

• butter and/or oil
• bunch of fresh sage
• 1 onion, finely chopped
• 1 container of white mushrooms, sliced
• 4 turkey steaks*
• 1 container of Mushroom Marsala Fresh Sauces
• salt and fresh-ground pepper

* You could use a rolling pin and flatten 2 turkey steaks to make thin scallopini, an even more economical alternative. Of course, you’ll need to adjust cooking time.

1. In a non-stick pan, melt butter or oil until it starts to foam. Fry a few sage leaves (reserve 1 or 2 for the sauce), carefully turning once when they start to stiffen and become a darker green. It should take around 30 seconds to 1 minute on the first side depending on the heat, and much quicker on the second side. Remove to a paper towel.

2. In sage butter, fry the onion until softened. Add mushrooms and let brown without stirring until golden. Salt to taste. Turn over and finish cooking. Remove from pan.

3. Season turkey steaks generously and add to pan to cook on both sides until golden and cooked through, a good 4 minutes per side. Mind that no pink colour remains inside. Pour in sauce and sprinkle a little chopped sage. Add in reserved onion and mushroom. Salt and pepper to taste. Stir and cook until sauce is warm and flavours have blended together.

4. Serve with mashed potatoes decorated with the fried sage.

In a previous post, I reviewed one of the books that made me yearn for the world to stop for like, hum, a year (?) just so I could cook my days away: Gran Cocina Latina: The Food of Latin America by Maricel E. Presilla. The definitive, encyclopedic resource for latin food lovers, it engulfs you with 500+ recipes that are family friendly if labor intensive. (Since my review, it’s worth noting that Presilla has been nominated for a 2013 James Beard award in the International Cookbooks category.)

As promised, here’s the second recipe I cooked from the book, with mitigated yet moan-inducing success. I know, quite the contradiction. Presilla’s Brazilian Salt Cod and Potato Casserole, or Bacalhoada, takes at least 2 days to prepare, most of it soaking time, but is simple to make. If the recipe failed, the responsibility rests squarely with me. I had found the most beautiful salt cod at this little Greek grocery. The thick, snowy white fillets were newly dried, still pliant, and fleshy. The thickness alone required that I soak the fish longer than usual. In fact, Presilla recommends testing the fish before cooking it. But I didn’t. And as a result, it was too salty to enjoy unreservedly.

My neighbourhood grocery is out of salt cod and I was spoiled enough that I would rather wait for the next shipment. But you can rest assured that I will try my hand at this recipe again. Have a little patience, taste the soaked fish for saltiness, and you should be fine. Even bad, it’s that good.

Brazilian Salt Cod and Potato Casserole

Serves 6

N.B. Presilla says the recipe serves 6 people. I cut it in half and still fed 6… I would recommend you do the same. My 2 pounds of salt cod cost me $25, so let’s face it, I was never going to test a recipe with $50 of precious fish anyways.

• 2 kg (4 lbs) boneless skinless salt cod fillets
• 1 gallon whole milk
• 1 kg (2 lbs) red potatoes, peeled and cut into thin slices
• 10 ml (2 tsp) salt, plus more to taste (I might omit that next time)
• 6 ripe globe tomatoes (about 1 kg/2 lbs), cut into thick slices
• 2 large white onions, sliced as thin as you can
• 250 ml (1 cup) extra-virgin olive oil
• Fresh ground black pepper, to taste

1. Start by soaking the cod, covered in cold water for 12 hours or more (test!), changing water 3 times or more. Discard water, replace with milk, cover with plastic wrap and chill 6 hours. Drain milk (reserve to make the mother of all chowders), rinse cod in cold water and reserve.

2. In a large pot filled with boiling water, poach fish 3-4 minutes over medium heat. Avoid overcooking. Drain and let cool, then shred. It’s worth noting I kept the fillets whole as you can see in the pix. Show me a real cook who can’t stop herself from messing with recipes…

3. Boil potatoes 10 minutes in salted water. Drain and reserve.

4. Preheat oven to 350°F. Oil a deep round 12-in baking dish, earthenware if you have. Layer the ingredients in thirds starting with the potatoes, then the tomatoes, the onion, and the cod. Sprinkle each layer with oil and pepper (and salt if using). Repeat until you have used all. Pour remaining oil on top and bake 35 minutes or until vegetables are cooked through.

Here is Maricel Presilla presenting a totally scrumptious looking gratin of palm hearts. Of course, it includes 4 different preparations to get to the final result so, like I said, you need patience and planning. But you just know it’s going to be great, right?

Recipe excerpted from:

The 2013 Edition of Expo Manger Santé et Vivre Vert will be held next weekend in Montreal (March 15-17), then March 23-24 in Quebec City. The event has become an annual meeting for foodies seeking to find out about trendy health food stars before the rest of us.

Last year, I wrote about this extraordinary boxful of mushrooms I received from Monsieur Basilic. This year, the Expo sent me Inari organic coconut flour and Pixo Pearls of cider vinegar, a very exciting Quebec-made product. Of course, with the ongoing gluten-free craze, all coconut products have become de rigueur when baking, while the vinegar pearls on gourmet canapés will def seduce your pickiest guest.

I won’t be able to visit the Expo in 2013 since I’m taking part in a roundtable discussion on Québec cookbooks at the Saint-Hyacinthe Book Show on the same weekend. But, if I were you, I would skedaddle to Montreal’s Palais des Congrès and find out what health foods will be trending ahead of everybody. It’s okay, I like to show off too.

Disclosure: A shortened review of this book was submitted to Food52 as part of its “Community Picks” Contest. I didn’t win, but this reviewer did. Couldn’t have said it better myself.

My hometown of Montreal is the furthest thing imaginable from a Latin American food mecca. Our summer is too short to grow hot peppers, while avocado, tomatillo & Co. come with a sasquatch-size carbon footprint. Canada actually grows a lot of corn but I don’t know of any local masa harina producer.

Until recently, you would have been hard-pressed to find a latino restaurant that ventured beyond adulterated Tex-Mex. Even so, I have developed quite the South-American taste profile. I’m one of those who swear by cilantro, give me lime over lemon anyday, and don’t get me started on jalapeno vs. serrano. It’s serrano BTW. As for Monsieur, he’ll add hot chiles to anything until his bald pate breaks out in rivulets of sweat. Boy sure likes his pain.

So I couldn’t resist Maricel Presilla’s 900-page omnibus Gran Cocina Latina: The Food of Latin America, even though I apprehended sourcing ingredients. Yes, you can substitute here and there but, let’s face it, any compromise no matter how necessary kinda slipsides away from that spot-on taste. I’ve stopped counting the bottles of Asian sauces I hoard in my pursuit of “Stir-Fry: The Real Deal”. And I thank the gods I can’t read Mandarin or I might be scared off by the ingredient list.

Flipping through Presilla’s book, I was instantly thankful that a few groceries have opened here and there to serve Montreal’s booming Latino community, otherwise several recipes here might have been out of reach. (I still haven’t cooked from Diana Kennedy’s admirable Oaxaca al gusto, but am I really meant to anyways?) In other words, you may find yourself searching for alternatives to yuca starch or hoja santa on a regular basis.

Selected from all over Latin Americas’ culinary map, Presilla’s 500+ recipes are divided into 20 chapters centered around an ingredient or specialty, so you can literally follow the gestalt of empanadas or cebiches from one country to the next. That humongous index, admittedly one of my favourite parts of any cookbook, comes in quite handy.

What I loved best about this book is how Presilla introduces most recipes with very hands-on info about their history and ingredients. I’m a sucker for narrative. You’re often told what to drink with your meal, maybe as you read up on how the author first tasted Surullitos de Maiz in this quaint fishing village on Puerto Rico’s coast. Now show me a foodie who doesn’t love a recipe travelogue…

Most of Gran Cocina Latina looks like this: 2 full pages of recipes with no photographs. It reminds me of Marcella Hazan’s seminal Essentials of classic Italian cooking (which has no pix whatsoever). If you need photographs to cook, this book is not for you.

To cook the book, I turned to my husband and son, both professional picky eaters who can turn any meal on its head with their signature pouts. I yearned to try my hand at the Crab Sautéed with Seaweed and Scrambled Eggs, or the Quinoa and Broccoli Rabe-stuffed Calamari, both from Peru, go figure. My boys only perused the very, very few photographs, then settled for Fried Green Plantains and Havana-style Black Bean Soup. What a surprise. So I sneaked in the six-ingredient Brazilian Salt Cod and Potato Casserole for good measure.

(In the spirit of full disclosure, Monsieur also asked for the Brazilian Feijoada. Presilla’s version requires two days to prepare
and feeds a dozen guests. Yeah right.)

The author tells us, in her muy-researched section intros, that Latin women prepare meals seated at the table rather than standing at the kitchen counter. Given the often lengthy recipe steps that put many of these recipes out of reach on a harried week night, you would too. That said, the food here is more family fare than restaurant menu, and more time-consuming than hard to execute. Bear in mind that preparation times are not indicated, a classic case of if you need to ask…?

In the end, the fried plantains were easy to make and quickly gobbled up. The soup, which has you roasting peppers, boiling beans and making a sofrito separately, was worth the effort, brimming with genuine flavour. It’s even gone into regular rotation though, in the home stretch, kiddo decided “black” soup is yucky. The cod was a miss, of sorts. The 36-hour soaking in water then milk failed to remove enough saltiness, but the taste could still blow minds. My husband may have moaned. (I never told you that.)

The verdict? If you’re ready to put in the effort timewise, run around town or source ingredients from Internet depending where you live, and if don’t need the formulaic one recipe-one photo to cook from a book (I know I’m getting bored with that design approach), you could buy Gran Cocina Latina and spend a lifetime exploring. The warm narrative, encyclopedic reach and recipes galore make for great cooking. And, just as important to this food writer, caliente bedside reading.

Now it’s your time to cook the book. I will be presenting two of the recipes I tested, the black bean soup (below) and the salted cod casserole (coming up in a follow-up post). Buen provecho!

Havana-style Black Bean Soup

Confession time: Years ago, during my vegetarian period, I often made a meal out of a black bean… cup-a-soup. One bite of homemade and here was the taste I remembered so much, but on full blast. I might have squeaked: “This is my soup!”.

Beans
450 g (1 lb/2 cups) dried black beans
2 L (8 cups) water
1 small yellow onion, peeled
1 small green pepper, cored and seeded
1 bay leaf

Sofrito
60 ml (1/4 cup) extra-virgin olive oil
4 large garlic cloves, minced
1 small yellow onion, minced
1 medium green bell pepper, cored, seeded and minced
1 cubanelle pepper, seeded and finely chopped (or 10 Aji dulces)
1 bay leaf
10 ml (2 tsp) ground cumin
10 ml (2 tsp) dried oregano

Soup
15 ml (1 tbsp) red wine vinegar
10 ml (2 tsp) salt (or to taste)
2 ml (1/2 tsp) ground black pepper
1 large red bell pepper (optional)
10 ml (2 tsp) sugar

1. For beans, in a heavy pot, combine beans, water, onion, green pepper and bay leaf, then bring to boil over high heat. Lower to medium and simmer 1 1/2 hour or until beans are tender.
2. If using red bell pepper (I recommend!), preheat oven to 400°F. Place red pepper (why not make some more while you’re at it) on a cookie sheet and roast until black, around 45 minutes or so. Remove, transfer to a bowl, seal with plastic wrap and let cool. When cold, peel off skin, seed and chop. Make sure to keep the liquid at the bottom of the bowl.
3. When beans are soft, discard onion, pepper and bay leaf. Remove a good 1/2 cup of beans and mash into a purée. Reserve. Keep beans on low while you make the sofrito.
4. For sofrito, heat oil in a heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add garlic and sauté 20 sec. Add onion, peppers and bay leaf, then sauté 5 minutes or until soft. Add cumin and oregano, then stir-cook 1 minute. Incorporate mashed beans and cook 1 minute.
5. For soup, add sofrito to pot along with vinegar, salt, pepper, sugar and reserved red pepper with their liquid (my addition BTW). Simmer over low heat 30-45 minuts or until creamy. Remove bay leaf.

Just in time for Valentine’s Day, Montrealers were invited to attend — for free — the 2nd edition of “Je t’aime en chocolat”, Montreal’s Chocolate Show in Old Montreal’s famed Bonsecours Market. Mycryo Coco Butter cooking demos, chocolate makers galore from Christophe Morel to Chocolats Privilège and Point G, to-die-for foie gras Rougié for nibbling…: spectators were invited to indulge and did they ever.

The event highlight was without a doubt the chocolate fashion show which brought local designers and chocolate makers together. Here’s a few iPhone pictures of my favourite runway dresses. I still find it hard to attend events with my Reflex. A paparazzi I’m not, my apologies to Cacao Barry who was kind enough to invite me.

If you missed the show, don’t fret. Organizers have already promised there will be a 3rd Edition.

If you don’t know Haiti-born Montreal designer Ralph Leroy yet, chances are you will soon. He made headlines when, in the same week, he drew Will Smith to his Montreal Fashion Week show AND guested on local power show Tout le monde en parle. That’s what I call a career-making 7 days. I would be dancing too.

French writing of the 2013 Québec Maple Road Guide

Clients: Agence MP1 and the Federation of Quebec Maple Syrup Producers (FPAQ)

Research and French copywriting, Bread History and Nutrition

Client: Boulangeries Québec and Über Agency

Visit: boulangeriequebec.com

Should you take a trip down memory line and visit this blog’s archive, you will discover quite a few cream of vegetable soups, courtesy of my picky eaters. Soup has long been a necessary means to an end around these parts as I try to entice kiddo to eat his vegetables. Add a chunk of baguette, a funny spoon and, chances are, he’ll make peace with his greens.

So, when I went looking for the perfect family recipe excerpted from my new À la bonne franquette cookbook, I headed right away for one of the soups. Celebrated Montreal chef Alexandre Loiseau from Bistro Cocagne on St.Denis Street had offered me a Cream of Vegetable Grand-Mère that perfectly fit the bill. Now if you are tempted to go “Pffft, a soup recipe, so much for that…”, don’t. Read the directives and you may be as intrigued as me.

Here, nothing is sautéed, ingredients are simply combined and simmered for an hour, including the butter! I like that all the vegetables are fresh including the tomatoes (I bought overripe ones at the discount counter in my local supermarket to get the maximum flavour since tomatoes are sooo out-of-season). For garnish, begone cream, behold grainy mustard and sour cream that provide a surprising kick.

The choice of vegetables is up to you. I settled for fennel, a few carrots and a big red onion. Fennel in soups and broths has become second nature to me after chef Marc De Canck from Montreal’s famed La Chronique revealed to me, during an interview years ago, that he uses star anise to bring out the taste of from-scratch vegetable broth. Fennel, star anise, Pernod… anise flavours have become my standby ever since.

Saying goodbye to onions or mirepoix slowly browned in butter for more flavour, I so love this soup technique from chef Loiseau that I used it to transform my usual Tomato and Fennel Soup shown here. Truth be told, it may even have surpassed the original, sorry Alexandre…

So here are two hearty soups to warm up body and soul in this frigid New Year: the Cream of Vegetable Grand-Mère from Bistro Cocagne and my own tweaked Tomato and Fennel Soup with Parmesan. Both served “à la bonne franquette”, of course.

Cream of Vegetable Soup Grand-Mère
Serves 6

• 1.75 L (7 cups) your choice of multiple vegetables: parsnip, fennel, celery root, carrot, turnip, leek, onion…
• 500 mL (2 cups) fresh tomatoes, diced
• 4 garlic cloves, chopped
• 1.5 L (6 cups) chicken broth
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 sprig fresh thyme
• 30 mL (2 tbsp) butter
• 30 mL (2 tbsp) grainy mustard
•30 mL (2 tbsp) sour cream
• Salt and pepper, to taste

1. Large dice all root vegetables. Mince leeks and onions if using. In a large pot, combine all the ingredients, except mustard and sour cream, then simmer 1 hour.
2. Remove bay leaf and thyme, then purée in blender. Strain for smoother texture if that’s your preference. Adjust seasoning and pour into soup bowls.
3. In a small bowl, combine mustard and sour cream. Use to garnish soup before serving.

____________________________________

Alexandre Loiseau

In his cute bistro on Montreal’s trendy St.Denis street, this young chef has made a name for himself and his impeccable French-inspired cuisine. Not surprising since he has trained under Normand Laprise at Toqué! and Joe Beef’s David McMillan no less. Dixit our chef: “My grand-mother always made soup, it’s the taste of my whole childhood! As a chef, I developed this recipe to capture some of the flavours that had me skipping with joy as a kid.” I knew chef Loiseau by reputation of course, but it’s actually Montreal Gazette fine dining critic Lesley Chesterman that suggested I invite him for this cookbook. Merci, Lesley!

____________________________________

Cream of Tomato and Fennel Soup with Parmesan
Serves 6

Any new recipe unearthed in a cookbook usually serves more as inspiration for my own explorations. The soup from chef Loiseau led me to revisit my go-to Cream of Tomato Soup. I always keep parmesan rinds frozen in the fridge to add to stews, tomato sauces and vegetable soup, so that went in as well. Here’s to cooking from scraps, one of 2013′s heavy trends or so they say.

• 1 large can (796 mL) Italian tomatoes (preferably San Marzano)
• 1 small fennel bulb, rough chopped
• 1 large onion, rough chopped
• 1 sweet red bell pepper, seeded, cut into chunks
• 750 mL (3 cups) chicken broth
• 45 mL (3 tbsp) fennel fronds
• 30 mL (2 tbsp) salted butter
• 15 mL (1 tbsp) salted herbs (such as Herbes salées du Bas-du-fleuve (optional)
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 sprig fresh thyme
• 1 parmesan rind
• Heavy cream (35%), for garnish (optional)
• Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

1. Crush San Marzano tomatoes (preferably with your hands, it’s downright therapeutic!). Pour into soup pot along with remaining ingredients, except cream, and simmer 1 hour.
2. Scrape any gooey cheese from parmesan rind into the soup. Remove and discard parmesan rind, thyme and bay leaf. Purée soup in blender. Strain if you’re looking for a very smooth texture. Adjust seasoning, pour into individual soup bowls and garnish with a swirl of cream, if desired.

Chef Loiseau’s recipe and photographs are excerpted from the cookbook À la bonne franquette shown below. You can preview it here.