Paris vacation IV

There is a commonly held view that French cooking is fancy. Images of court banquets at Versailles, Marie Antionette’s recommendations to eat cake, famous chefs like Escoffier and Paul Bocuse, and three star Michelin restaurants create a convention that French food is dependent upon exquisite technique and extraordinary creativity. There’s probably a place where that’s true but it’s no place I’ve ever been.

My experience of French food is different but no less wonderful. We’ve been coming to Paris for years and our experience is a cuisine based on great ingredients prepared simply and expertly. Consider the heirloom tomato salad in the feature image. I wrote about it a few days ago. Prepared at Taverne Henri IV, it consists of a thinly sliced green heirloom tomato with burrata cheese, very thinly sliced ham and a light sprinkle of paprika on the cheese. That’s it. No herbs, no oil, no fancy knife cuts. The dressing takes place in your mouth when the acidity of the juice from the fresh tomato mixes with the fat of the cheese and/or ham. The flavors are intense and delightful, but it all works because the tomatoes, cheese, and ham are all delicious by themselves and their combination lifts them up a notch or three. 

Another tomato based salad we had went in a different direction but was just as good. This comes from Relais Haussmann, a bistro in the 8eme arrondisement near a museum we visited. It’s a posh neighborhood and I was the only man in the bistro not wearing a business suit. I imagine that this is a favorite lunch spot for the execs of the nearby Parisian headquarters of Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley. The restaurant is decorated with a chic sophistication appropriate for the neighborhood but the service was very friendly and the prices weren’t too bad. Comparing their tomato salad to Henri IV’s highlights the difference between a neighborhood tavern and a chic bistro, but the results are surprisingly similar. Relais Haussmann also starts with magnificently fresh heirloom tomatoes but they use three different colors for visual appeal. The layers of tomato are layered with coins of buffalo mozzarella and fresh basil leaves are scattered over the top. Since there’s no meat, a drizzle of olive oil adds a little fat to balance the acidity of the tomatoes. That’s all you get and that’s all you need when the ingredients are fresh and flavorful. And I know that these are both variations on the Italian caprese salad, but the heirloom tomatoes and the ham are fundamentally French twists.

There’s one more salad that we’ve been seeing everywhere – melon and ham. When cantaloupes are in season, this salad is everywhere. Seriously – I don’t think we’ve been to a single restaurant that hasn’t had melon et jambon as an entree.  The picture is from a brasserie in Mande, a suburb just outside the city borders and host to a used book and ephemera show we visited. La Tourelle is a common neighborhood brasserie that is really not exceptional in any way. The garnishes of cherry tomatoes, cornichons, and frisée are almost irrelevant in the face of the main ingredients. The perfectly ripe cantaloupe are sweet and juicy and is perfectly offset by the salty complexity of the ham. This dish could be awful with bland, out-of-season cantaloupes and traditional sliced ham. But every version we’ve had on this trip (three, so far) has been delicious because fresh cantaloupe and smoked ham are delicious and they complement each other wonderfully. 

Finally, I’m going to move on to a plat, or what we Americans call an entree. When done well, cassoulet is one of my favorite dishes in the whole wide world.  I’ve seen recipes that involve preparation over three days but at it’s essence it’s not that complicated. Duck (in some form), pork (in some form), pork sausage, and beans are cooked together for a very long time with duck fat and other stuff. This is another classic dish that relies upon great ingredients. If the meats and “other stuff” lack flavor, the cassoulet will be a big heavy mess. But with a perfectly seasoned pork sausage, a few pieces of duck on the bone, a and a couple of pork ribs simmered in duck fat, onions, beans, and a hint of tomato and you have culinary magic. 
We went to Auberges Pyrenees Cevennes on the recommendation of a colleague and it turned out to specialize in Basque cuisine from the southern region of France that borders Spain. When I saw cassoulet on the menu I had to order it, without even considering any of the other offerings. Just before serving, the chef emerged from the kitchen with a huge copper pot that he showed to me, I guess to ask if it was OK. I nodded, not entirely understanding what he was saying (that language barrier thing). The server fetched a plate and spooned about half of the contents of the copper pot and set it before me.  The remainder was set off to the side.

So first things first. This was one of the largest portions of food I have ever been served and apparently there was an equal amount waiting for me on a sideboard when I was ready for it. That in itself was a bit staggering, but as we all know size isn’t everything – taste is.  It tasted out of this world. There was a deep, smoky taste that came from the duck and the pork that infused every bean in the bowl. A hint of acid that probably came from some tomatoes added to the base and salty notes from the pork rounded everything out.  I couldn’t finish what I was given, let alone the rest of the copper pot on the sideboard.

This isn’t a tribute to mere volume though. This cassoulet wasn’t that much more complex than the tomato salads I talked about, even though it took a LOT longer to make. It’s just another example of really good ingredients put together in a way in which the separate pieces combine to produce something greater.  I could eat this way forever.