A Frenchtown Kitchen & Garden

Grandma Annie and Drying Parsley

2018-09-09T15:51:00.002-05:00

When I was a child I spend a large chunk of every summer at my grandmother's house across the river in Frenchtown. It was usually toward the end of summer, the dog days of August, when this visit took place.

Frenchtown and my grandmother's house seemed quaint to me, as opposed to the noisy kid-filled neighborhood on Main Street. In Frenchtown, everyone had a garden and shed, and produce was readily shared with neighbors. Only the Bergs had a garden in my home neighborhood.

One evening after supper, Grandma Annie took down a large basket from a hook in her "back kitchen," a room where her sewing machine kept company with a monstrous cabinet her father had built, in which seldom-used kitchenwares and canned good were stored.

"Come with me," she said, and we took a three-block walk to the home of another family with a French Canadian name.

There the basket was soon filled with tomatoes, carrots and green beans, the latter Grandma's favorite. A 20-minute chat ensued, and many thanks and I began to fidget. But I knew, despite my youthful restlessness, that this was a magical moment, a sort of quaint ritual I might never see again. It was charming to me.

Another time, perhaps even that same summer, another neighbor brought Annie a bunch of fresh-picked parsley. I watched, enchanted, as Grandma washed it and gathered it together with a string, hanging it on another hook in her back kitchen.

Mystified, I asked about it, as I'd never seen it done before; my mother used seasonings stored in white glass jars on her spice rack. Grandma explained that drying fresh herbs this way was a method of preserving them for winter use in stews and soups.

Later in my youth, there was a long time when food seemed to come in boxes, not baskets, and our eating habits shifted, before changing again for the better.

Now I gather parsley and other herbs from my garden and dry them in my own backyard room, which houses a computer, a storage bench and pantry shelves as well as a corner hutch. I use a huge woven basket to buy produced from farm stands and the farm market.

Always with my Grandma Annie in mind.

The View from my Kitchen

2018-08-13T16:51:00.003-05:00

For the first summer in many years, I have few commitments that stand between me and my backyard garden. That's a pure pleasure for me.

Also for the first time in many years, my vegetable garden has fallen prey to marauding squirrels and other critters. After a mid-July harvest, my started-from-seed lettuce entirely disappeared from the garden before it could produce a second crop. Same thing with my carrots. I have three beets left. We've harvested one tomato and a lot of hot peppers. There's a Barbie-doll-sized eggplant that I've earmarked for mid-September ratatouille. Chives, parsley and eggplant are - thankfully - doing fine.

Still it's an odd time to rename the blog to include the word "garden," I guess.

Oh, well.

Twelve years old now, the blog began when I wanted to engage my college journalism students in news blogging. That really didn't work out, but I did meet some terrific bloggers online, many of whom are now Facebook contacts and cherished friends.

My blog has brought in a few hundred dollars from Google over the years, and I'm fairly happy with it, even though my audience is small. Becoming a blogger forced me to acquire some photography skills. I'm still using the Nikon CoolPix my husband bought me in 2005.

I love shooting photos of anything garden related, and I've been searching for a way to share those photos without overburdening my Facebook friends.

The photo above is the view from my kitchen window. It's what I see when I'm making a salad, peeling potatoes, or prepping a chicken dish. It's as part of my kitchen as the stove or refrigerator.

The view enables me to run outside to chase critters away when necessary, and monitor the birds, bees and butterflies who visit regularly.

After 12 years, it just seemed the blog needed another name change. Welcome to "A Frenchtown Kitchen & Garden."

You Might As Well Face It: You’re Addicted to Spices

2017-12-22T19:47:00.002-06:00

I am addicted to buying spice and spice blends the way some people are addicted to shopping at Sephora, acquiring LuLaRoe items, or drinking coffee. Or whatever.

A huge section of my cupboard is dedicated to herbs and spices, from Adobo to Za’atar seasoning.

I buy so much that I had to write this post post four years ago. (UPDATE: Using hot spices to deter squirrels doesn’t work, in my experience and it’s kind of cruel anyway, as a commenter pointed out.)

But recently, I decided to try my hand at mixing my own blends, in an effort to create more cupboard space, not to mention being a more conscious consumer - and save money, too.

Around the holidays and on finger-food nights, we often have fresh vegetables and dip, or chips and dip. A few years back, I fell hard for a commercial chip-and-dip spice blend from my favorite spice purveyor, but discovered I could make my own at great savings.

Here’s the recipe;

1/4 cup onion powder
1/8 cup garlic powder
1/4 cup minced onion
1 teaspoon freeze-dried chives
1 teaspoon dill
1/2 teaspoon parsley
1/4 teaspoon paprika
Dash pepper

Toss in a small jar and shake. That's all!

To make dip: Blend about a half tablespoon with a cup of sour cream (or half cream cheese and half sour cream) and allow to chill for at least an hour. Serves two.

I'm going to play around with it a bit, and maybe adjust the measurements. You should, too. I know some people are strict recipe followers. I am not.

If you decide to make this blend as a gif or in bulk, you can save more by buying spices that are priced at, say, $1 a bottle, usually at chain stores, drug stores or dollar stores.

Additions: Capers, fresh yellow or green onions, chopped walnuts, green or red peppers, olives. Very versatile.

Best Wishes for a Warm Holiday Season

2017-12-15T20:17:00.000-06:00

Yes, bland title. I know.

It's been a slow year for this almost-12-year-old blog. I've been cooking a lot, but I haven't been terribly inspired.

I make a lot of soups. Last winter it was a regular Thursday afternoon event: Chicken vegetable, tomato vegetable, onion, corn chowder, cabbage and sausage, cheese broccoli, even broccoli tomato, which happens to be my favorite.

I usually make my own stock, and enjoy it immensely. The tasks of slice and dicing to achieve mise en place continue to calm me. And that has been extremely necessary in this, um, eventful year.

Good food continues to comfort.

It was evident at the end of 2016 I would need to become more involved in my community, do something good. Food drove that, too, as I became further involved in our weekly farm market. I'm not a vendor, but I am a regular shopper. I've enjoyed using social media to encourage eating locally. I've helped sell everything from eggs to peppers to pumpkins, and I think, sharpened my photography skills just a bit.

As we approach the year's end, I vow to do at least one post a month, even if it's a simple soup or salad post. I need to share my tartar sauce recipe - it's wonderful, and so simple - and my favorite broccoli salad.

What will the loss of net neutrality bring to blogging and the Internet? It's not looking good. As a country, we have regressed much in the past 12 months.

But at this time of year, I prefer to be optimistic.

Here's hoping you all have a beautiful holiday season! May 2018 bring us peace.

Tomato-Herb Butter

2017-02-19T15:48:00.001-06:00

The flavor of tomatoes brings the taste of summer back, even in mid winter.

We had good luck with our tomatoes last year, and I froze several sandwich bags full for winter soups and stews.

I've made tomato-vegetable soup, creamy tomato soup and chicken-tomato soup. I've added tomatoes to roasted vegetable side dishes.

And I've made tomato butter. With a few choice herbs.

It's so easy. And so delicious. On bread, rolls, pasta, vegetables, and under cream cheese on a bagel. Try it on a baked potato, or in dips, spreads and on roasted chicken or fish.

Tomato-Herb Butter

About two cups of cherry tomatoes, sliced; fresh are best, frozen a second choice
Generous pinch sea salt
1/2 teaspoon basil
1/4 teaspoon dill
Generous dash black pepper
2 sticks unsalted butter

Broil the tomatoes on a cookie sheet for about 8-10 minutes, until tomatoes begin to turn brown. Remove from oven and allow to cool. While tomatoes are cooling, sleep ve butter sticks into a medium bowl and allow to soften. Use a small food processor to chop cooled tomatoes. Season tomatoes and mix with butter, folding until well blended. Flavored butter can be placed ramekins or butter molds, and chilled.

I added a generous tablespoon or more to a noodle, brocolli and chicken stir fry. Wow!

Reformation Rolls, Not Unlike Hot-Cross Buns

2016-10-30T18:17:00.000-05:00

One of the things I love about community markets, no matter the location, is that they always yield a few surprises.

I've gone shopping for asparagus and ended up with whisk brooms. I've searched for zucchini and discovered far-more-exotic red celery and striped stuffing tomatoes.

Discovering new things is part of the lure for me. It's why I shop at farm markets, from Wisconsin to Paris.

This week's surprise was Reformation Rolls.

Growing up in a Catholic household I'm familiar with Hot Cross Buns, a tasty Lenten staple. On my third trip to France, I became enamored with Jesuits.

I'd never heard of Reformation Rolls, though. Apparently, they are a German All Souls' Day custom. Halloween, it seems, was not traditionally celebrated in Germany, at least not until recently. (It's hot stuff in France, although I've never been there on Oct. 31.)

You can read more and find a recipe here.

I'm a bit surprised, growing up in heavily German-Lutheran Wisconsin, that I'd never heard of this sweet treat.

I'm looking forward to dunking them into my coffee tomorrow morning.

Curried Winter Squash Soup

2016-02-15T22:00:00.000-06:00

I have been making soup every week since cold weather set in. Any time we have leftover bones or carcasses, I begin a soup stock that sometimes takes two days to make; it's rich and savory and serves as the basis for a variety of soup recipes.

Homemade stock - apparently it's more stylishly called bone broth at the moment - is essential for casseroles and many vegetable dishes, as well as soup. When you focus on fresh or from-scratch foods, prepared sauces and soups begin to taste horrible in fairly short order.

Sampling stock in progress is a perk; I use about a half dozen spoons in the process. I throw vegetable scraps and leftovers into soup, so I've had some interesting combinations this winter. Cauliflower-corn-red pepper soup was probably my favorite.

But oh, this soup, this sweet Curried Winter Squash Soup, a gift from a bread-making friend, was probably one of the best soups I've ever tasted and although I haven't made it myself yet, I know she's OK with sharing the recipe. A farm market vendor, she posted it on our market's Facebook page.

Curried Winter Squash Soup

2 pounds winter squash
2 Tablespoons butter
1½ cup chopped onion
½ cup celery
1 or 2 sweet apples peeled, cored and diced
salt and fresh-bourn pepper to taste
1 Tablespoon curry powder, or to taste
3 cups chicken broth
1 cup unsweetened apple cider
1 bay leaf
1 cup buttermilk (or ¾ cup milk and ¼ cup sour cream)
1 Tablespoon finely minced ginger root, divided
Fresh grated nutmeg

Bake squash in 375-degree oven until tender. Set aside until it's cool enough to handle.

Melt the butter and brown onions and celery until tender and clear. Add apples, broth, cider, bay leaf and curry. Bring mixture to a boil, reducing heat and simmering for 20 minutes. Add squash.

Use a blender to purée mixture, about one cup at a time. Add the ginger gradually.

Stir in milk and heat the soup again, but do not boil it. Adjust seasonings such as salt and pepper and garnish with fresh-grated nutmeg.

I'd serve this with a ham sandwich and coleslaw.

Thanks to Brenda of Bay Bakers for allowing me to showcase her recipe.

Purslane, the Tasty and Succulent Weed

2016-01-25T21:26:00.001-06:00

Purslane in all its glory on my deck.

Although the Upper Great Lakes escaped last weekend's behemoth snow fall, it's snowing now and just below freezing, which means whatever accumulation we get will be heavy. In other words, not much fun to shovel tomorrow.

So we're staying indoors as much as possible. Yesterday I rearranged my gardening books, moving them from the pantry - I know, strange place - to a tall bookcase in the living room. I take pleasure in knowing that they are easier to access and that in a month or so, I will be starting a few seeds indoors.

As I pored over my gardening looks, I was reminded that last summer a grower friend challenged me to do something with purslane, a weed that has culinary uses as a salad enhancement and a soup thickener.

It reminds me of sedum, the kind that makes a dandy ground cover in your garden.

But it's widely used for cooking in North Africa, the Middle East and parts of Asia. Purslane is crisp but feels tender when you bite into it and a bit citrusy when you taste it.

I tossed some raw purslane into my salad and it was not unpleasant. I think I will pass on the soup thickening, however. I did find it an interesting addition to egg salad, imparting a hint of lemon and a touch of crispness, not unlike thinly-sliced celery.

Some people add purslane to stir fries. That's something I might try next summer.

Purslane can be foraged. In fact, it grows all over the world. I've seen it erupting out of sidewalk cracks. You can read more right here.

No doubt I'll run across some purslane six months from now. Meanwhile, I'm going to immerse myself in seed catalogs and dream away the rest of January.

Pumpkin Gnocchi with Sausage and Thyme

2015-11-08T16:06:00.000-06:00

Apple chunks, raisins, walnuts and a topping of sharp cheddar add a taste of autumn.

Last fall I was couch ridden, thanks to a painful leg injury. After several months of physical therapy followed by almost-daily workouts, I ventured into the kitchen to try my hand at meal preparation again.

I've made some incredibly tasty meals, mostly old favorites and comfort food, but I felt ready to tackle something new this fall.

Like hords of others, I love the seasonal flavor of pumpkin, and although I'm not ready for pumpkin spice everything, when I saw a package of pumpkin-potato gnocchi at the supermarket, I thought I'd give it a whirl.

It's not the easiest pasta to work with, as it happens.

I followed directions on the package. Pre-boil about five quarts of water, salt it, add gnocchi at full boil and continue two minutes after gnocchi rises to the surface, then drain.

I tasted. Bland. A bit paste-like. Perhaps I overcooked?

Now what?

Here's what I came up with:

1/1 17/6-ounce package gnocchi
2 medium or one very large sweet onion, chopped
3 links of apple-chicken sausage, sliced about a half-inch thick
1 chopped apple, any variety, but choose one that holds up when heated
1 heaping Tablespoon butter
1-2 teaspoons dried thyme
1/8 cup walnuts, chopped
1/4 cup raisins
salt and pepper to taste (lightly on the pepper)
1/3 cup sharp cheddar cheese, grated

Prepare and measure all ingredients in advance. With gnocchi, one must move fast to keep it from getting mushy.

While gnocchi is boiling, sauté onions until carmelized, adding sliced sausage, apple and thyme. Use a large skillet, so you can add gnocchi when thoroughly cooked. Lower heat, add walnuts and raisins, Stir gently, so as not to break open the gnocchi.

Serve with grated cheese on top.

A few things tips and things I learned:

Use onions, not shallots, for more robust flavor.
Undercook the gnocchi, just a bit.
Go light on the pepper. Just a dash.
Add more butter, if you wish.
Try a pinch of brown sugar at the very end.
Consider a healthy dash of cinnamon or pumpkin pie spice.
Thyme may be increased, according to individual tastes.
Pair with warm spinach salad and cornbread. Serve with hard cider.

I'm not sure I'll try this again. Too carb-y and tasteless on its own. But with some additions and some trial and error, the dish was good, especially with a side salad that added a bit of tartness and freshness.

Fall in Northeast Wisconsin, Part Two

2015-11-08T13:43:00.000-06:00

A local park in early October.

Early fall farm market sign.

Saturday in October, downtown building.

Side yard on a Monday morning.

Fall in Northeast Wisconsin

2015-10-11T19:17:00.001-05:00

We harvested dozens of green tomatoes this week, but still have a few pole beans on the vine. There's one tiny eggplant left.

No hard freeze yet and its already the middle of October. The leaves are turning slowly this year and all signs point to a long and lingering fall.

The farm markets are winding down, in stark contrast to a decade ago when they peaked with gleaming pumpkins and squashes in brilliant hues at the end of October. There's not much of a pumpkin harvest this year, relatively speaking.

Our earlier tomatoes were mushy and tasteless, thanks to heavy rains in June. Later season tomatoes, especially the cherry variety had more zip. We made a huge bowl of salsa last week, and split it so I could add cilantro and my husband could go heavy-handed on the hotness.

I bought eggs, pumpkin, onions, carrots and freshly-ground coffee at the farm market this week and splurged on an apricot-orange scone with the faintest hint of almond. So good.

Happy October!

Roasted Green Beans with Carrots, Onions and Honey

2015-07-27T00:00:00.000-05:00

I firmly believe that good meals need not be complicated.

In fact, I have a three-items-on-the menu role. A savory with a compliment and a contrast. Simple meals, in my opinion, are more elegant.

A favorite here is roasted chicken with fresh French bread and a tossed salad. More often than not, the starchy item is eliminated, and replaced with a vegetable side dish.

I would serve this simple side dish with pork and cole slaw (made with pineapple).

Roasted Green Beans with Carrots, Onions and Honey (serves two)

1 cup trimmed green beans, cut into 1-inch pieces
1/2 cup carrots, trimmed into slender, 1-inch pieces
1 small sweet onion, sliced or cubed
1 Tablespoon olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
1 teaspoon honey (optional)
1 teaspoon unsalted butter (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Using a medium sauce pan, bring about two cups of water to a boil. Add the beans and carrots and boil for two minutes. Remove vegetables and plunge into ice water to stop the cooking.

Grease a shallow casserole or pan. Add the vegetables, including the onions, and drizzle with olive oil. Place in the oven and roast for about 45 minutes or until golden brown. Toss frequently during roasting.

I added butter and honey after roasting. The result was a sweet-salty side dish.

Slim and Subtle: French Green Beans with Lemon and New Red Onions

2015-07-25T19:06:00.001-05:00

Green beans are my go-to vegetable in summer, especially when fresh from the farm. I love their sweet, subtle-but-earthy taste, and I think they pair well with chicken and fish.

So I was delighted when one of my favorite growers asked me to try this summer's green beans, which include a lighter and more delicately-flavored French bean.

My husband grilled chicken and I made a classic tossed salad. The beans were the perfect side dish. I'm declaring this Green Bean Week at A Frenchtown Kitchen, and I'll have a variety of recipes to share over the next week.

I made only enough for two people at one meal, so double or triple the amounts to meet your needs.

French Green Beans with Lemon and New Red Onions

1 1/2 cups fresh green beans, trimmed and washed, and parboiled
1 Tablespoon fresh lemon juice
2 teaspoons minced onion or roasted-onion seasoning
3 teaspoons unsalted butter
1 small early red onion, thinly sliced
Freshly-ground pink Himalayan salt to taste
Dash pepper

Slice the onion and set aside. Melt butter in small skillet. Add onion, along with parboiled beans, lemon juice, seasoning and sauté for about five minutes, stirring frequently, until onions turn brown and beans turn golden. Season.

Simple and delicious. Sometimes the best food is easy to prepare.

Wordless Wednesday: Wine at 9 a.m.

2015-06-03T11:05:00.000-05:00

Simple Red Potato Salad

2015-05-25T16:23:00.003-05:00

Simple Red Potato Salad with Red Peppers

After a leg injury that left me sidelined for months, I am back in the kitchen.

On Memorial Day weekend, we had simple picnic foods, like lemon-roasted chicken with herbs and hamburgers.

It's been almost a year since I made potato salad. It's not difficult to make, but it is a multi-step process. Wash and boil the potatoes. Make hard-boiled eggs. Chop it all. Blend a dressing.

Easy when you can stand on both legs.

My husband loved it. I loved it. This one's a keeper. You can adjust the amount of ingredients, of course, to suit your tastes and what you have on hand.

Simple Red Potato Salad with Red Pepper (Serves 2-4)

10-12 medium size red potatoes, boiled and chopped or sliced but not peeled
2-3 hard boiled eggs, peeled and chopped
3-4 green onions, sliced (use white and green parts)
1/4 cup red pepper, chopped
2 teaspoons chives
Pink Himalayan salt and ground pepper - as desired

Dressing

2 Tablespoons Miracle Whip
1 Tablespoon mayonnaise (I used Aldi's Burman's, which has a tangy, earthy taste)
1 teaspoon grainy French mustard

I don't think I need to tell you what to do, do I? Just prepare the ingredients, toss, add dressing and toss some more.

The only thing - and this is important - is to chill all the salad ingredients ahead of time. They absorb less of the dressing when chilled. And chilling potatoes before you eat them supposedly lowers the GI index, or so I've read.

Optional ingredients include:

Chopped or slice black olives
Sweet peas
Celery
Chopped radishes
Sweet pickle relish
Dill

Potato salad is a blank canvas food. You can dress it up, or dress it down. But it does taste like summer, no matter what you do to it.

And, unofficially, summer has arrived.

Vegetable Side Dishes, Part Two

2014-11-15T18:30:00.000-06:00

Sautéed Apples and Carrots with Roasted Pecans

We have no real Thanksgiving traditions at our house. Last year was a big family event, with everyone bringing a specialty. One year the entire family went out for dinner. A few times we've traveled on that weekend, enjoying wonderful dinners at urban restaurants in other cities, with just a few family members joining us.

But somehow the humble little dinners we've had alone are my favorites. This year, because of my recent back injury, that's what we'll do: An unfussy dinner at home.

One thing I do like on my table each November: Green beans.

Here's my favorite option:

Green Beans Amandine with Shallots: This dish works best with fresh green beans, but frozen will do in a pinch. It pairs well with everything, from turkey to ham, from beef to fish.

I love shallots with green beans. The mild flavors compliment each other. Add something else, something a little richer, maybe and you've got a dish that happily accompanies turkey with all the trimmings:
Green Beans with Shallots and Pancetta.

A full turkey or ham dinner demands the addition of a tart or sweet side dish, too. Cranberry sauce, or even applesauce are contenders. But this dish, along with green beans, is really a spectacular option: Sweet, tart and nutty:

Sautéed Apples and Carrots with Roasted Pecans. I love this. I think it's the best thing I've ever done with apples. It's easy, too, and like the green bean dishes above, you can make it ahead of time and reheat it. In my experiences, most dishes improve after the flavors have time to marry.

For a Frugal Thanksgiving: Vegetable Side Dishes, Part One

2014-11-14T11:22:00.000-06:00

Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Carrots

For the past seven weeks, I've been dealing with some back issues that have made mobility painful. I'm on the mend, but the process is slow.

I miss cooking. I've been getting by with bagged salads, cereals and easy-to-make sandwiches plus the contents of my freezer's soup stash and my husband's cooking.

I miss puttering around in the kitchen. The organization, the prep, the chopping and slicing and dicing. I'm hoping to be back in full action in two weeks, just in time for Thanksgiving.

Some people insist on tradition, serving the same menu year after year. That would drive me crazy. I like to mix it up a little, try something new. Each Thanksgiving and each Christmas is different. One year we had chateaubriand. Last year we had coq au vin. No final decision on this year yet, but it's safe to say we will have one or two vegetable side dishes.

Roasted Cauliflower with Gruyere and Cheddar Cheese

Our choices may be one of the following:

Sautéed Fresh Corn with Onions: I've been making a roasted version using frozen kernels that is almost as good.

Maple Roasted Carrots with Onions and Thyme: This is a classic at my house, but I'm the only one who eats it. I now use fresh carrots. When I took this photo, I was cleaning out the freezer, so I used an emergency ration.

Roasted Carrots with Brown Sugar and Thyme: This is one of my favorite carrot dishes. It takes the recipe above and kicks it up a notch.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Carrots: I prefer fresh vegetables, but if you're pinched for time, this recipe makes frozen Brussels sprouts taste really good. I paired mine with fresh carrots.

Roasted Cauliflower with Gruyere and Cheddar Cheese: This pairs well with ham and sweet potatoes. A side salad of Brussels sprouts rounds out the meal. Corn bread is a nice addition.

More frugal side dish options to follow.

Wordless Wednesday: The Side Yard

2014-10-15T00:00:00.000-05:00

Wordless Wednesday: Golden Cucumbers

2014-09-17T08:10:00.000-05:00

Wordless Wednesday: The Old Carriage House in September

2014-09-10T00:00:00.000-05:00

Wordless Wednesday: The Beach a Week from Today

2014-08-27T13:36:00.000-05:00

Sunday in Frenchtown: Farm Market Vegetables

2014-08-24T12:33:00.000-05:00

At Grandma Annie's, Sunday dinner fare was almost always the same: Roasted chicken with potatoes and whatever vegetables were in season.

Vegetables were prepared simply: Boiled and served with butter, salt and pepper.

Save for the addition of herbs and sautéed almonds or walnuts, that is often the best way to prepare them today. At least once a season, I serve vegetables with nothing to detract from their earthy flavor.

Season of the Witch Finger Grape

2014-08-22T13:33:00.002-05:00

Witch Finger Grapes

I've had a hankering for chicken salad with onions, walnuts and grapes. Served chilled, it's one of my favorite summer salads. A dash of cinnamon and thyme adds layers of taste. It's great served with popovers or even muffins.

I ran across these odd-shaped grapes at the supermarket yesterday and the sample I tried from the woman who was promoting them was juicy and sweet - and seedless.

These elongated grapes are hybrids, as you've probably guessed, a hand-pollinated marriage of American cultivar developed by the University of Arkansas Division Of Agriculture and a Mediterranean variety. They are grown in Bakersfield, Cal., and sold at farm markets in California and distributed to supermarkets nationwide. That didn't stop me from buying them: I eat local about 75 percent of the time in summer, anyway. And this hasn't been the best growing season, as local farmers will tell you. Plus, you can't find grapes at local farm markets.

Speaking of summer, apparently that's the only time you can buy Witch's Finger grapes. Too bad, because they would be a healthy treat for a kids' Halloween party, given their resemblance to an old hag's wizened claw.

Here's how I used mine:

1 chilled roasted chicken breast, white meat cut into chunks
1 medium sweet onion
2 cups Witch's Finger, or other seedless red grape
1 Tablespoon green pepper, minced
1/3 cup mayonnaise
1/4 cup walnuts, coarsely chopped
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme (or Tablespoon fresh, chopped)
Salt and pepper to taste

Combine chicken, onion and grapes. Add mayo and walnuts. Blend. Add seasonings. Serves two.

You can substitute any kind of seedless grape, red or green, and almonds instead of walnuts. Optional additions include celery, chevre, or even blue cheese.

Throwback Thursday: Bleu d'Auvergne Cheese

2014-08-21T11:21:00.000-05:00

Bleu d'Auvergne Cheese, Cahors 2008

A few weeks ago my husband and I had lunch at a local restaurant known for its views of the water and daily specials. We both chose a salad with apples, walnuts and dried cherries that sound good but was in reality overly sweet and well, a little wimpy.

We were disappointed.

A salad combining lettuce and fruit demands a bold counterpart like blue cheese or a savory pairing like bacon to bring out its full flavor.

Bleu d'Auvergne, a relatively new French cheese with roots in the 1850s, is robust and pungent, but creamier and less salty than other blue cheeses. As its name suggests, it originates in the Auvergne, a region of south central France just northeast of the Midi-Pyrnees. When I last visited the latter region, I purchased my first wedge (above).

I used my Bleu d'Auvergne in a salad of regional walnuts and apples, purchased at the market in Cahors. I served it with a main dish of chicken roasted with onions and rosemary and a glass of pear cider, although I understand it also mates well with the black wine of Cahors, which was also an option.

Learn more about Bleu d'Auvergne here and here. I buy it whenever I find it, which is not very often, sad to say, unless I happen to stumble upon a cheese shop that sells something other than Wisconsin cheese.

Wordless Wednesday: Cafe Life, Cours du Commerce Saint-Andre, Paris, May 2012

2014-08-20T00:00:00.000-05:00