Fun with Fondue & Traditional Cheese Fondue

I’m not sure what the food fashion police have to say about fondue this winter. Is it reborn and hip again? Fondue is one of those dishes which always seems to be in the midst of a comeback. Of course it was all the rage back in the ‘70’s. From New England’s snowy peaks to Manhattan’s towering skyscrapers, a party was not a party without a gently bubbling pot of cheese and/or chocolate fondue.

When my sister tied the knot, she received four, maybe five fondue pots. Or at least a few more than she thought she needed or would ever need. The extra pots were consigned to the purgatory of my parents’ attic. Years later when I set up my first apartment, fondue was already passé but I magnanimously adopted one. I was moving to Vermont and fondue seemed like a natural. I think I might have served it on one or two cold winter nights but I can’t swear to it.

But fondue is not a fad in Switzerland. It doesn’t come and go on the whim of some fancy food fashionista. It’s been a favorite on Swiss tables since the late 1600’s. That’s when a hungry alpine cow-herder made supper of some stale bread and a bit of melted cheese on a cold and blustery winter night.

One of the first things l learned when I moved to Switzerland was that the Swiss take their fondue very seriously. As you would expect in a country where “everything which is not required, is forbidden,” certain rules apply when eating fondue.

1. Never eat fondue in the summer. Relaxing around a pot of piping hot cheese is a lovely way to spend a winter evening but steamy business in the middle of summer. Every year the Swiss celebrate the first cold, rainy days of autumn with a fondue.

2. Only drink white wine, preferably Fendant from the Valais region of Switzerland. For children or anyone who does not drink wine, hot tea is okay but never beer, water, juice or heaven forbid Coca-Cola. The practical explanation or urban myth for this rule is that these drinks will cause the cheese to come together into a hard, cold ball in the pit of your stomach. Every Swiss person knows someone who knows someone who knows someone whose uncle died from drinking a cold beer after a fondue.

3. It’s okay to skip dessert, but if you do indulge, fruit with a splash of kirsch is the traditional after-fondue sweet. While the idea of an all-fondue evening might sound intriguing, chocolate fondue is decidedly un-Swiss. Chocolate fondue was invented in New York about fifty years ago, albeit by a Swiss-born chef. Obviously, too much time in Manhattan led him astray. Ice cream is strictly frowned upon; see rule number 2.

Tourists, especially American tourists, are notorious for breaking these rules. Not many cafés serve fondue during the summer. If by chance, you venture by one that does; you’re sure to find a jolly group of tourists enjoying a fondue in the hot sunshine. More likely than not, they’ll be washing it down with a beer or icy cold Coke. Strangely enough, in spite of this terrible lapse, the sidewalks in front of these establishments are not littered with tourists writhing in pain and near death.

Now is the perfect time to venture into the attic and retrieve that old fondue pot. A lazy evening with friends around a pot of bubbling cheese and a bottle of wine is an excellent way to end a long day on the slopes.

Bon appétit!

Traditional Cheese Fondue
Fondue is the perfect après-ski meal. A mix of cheeses is best; Gruyere and Emmental are most common and easiest to find. If you can track some down, try adding Fribourg Vacherine or a combination of Tilsit and Appenzell. Enjoy!
Serves 6

1 clove garlic, halved
1 1/4 cup dry white wine
2 1/2 pounds cheese
Try: 1/2 Gruyere and 1/2 Emmental,
1/2 Gruyere and 1/2 Fribourg Vacherin or
1/2 Gruyere, 1/4 Tilsit and 1/4 Appenzell
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 ounce Kirsch
Freshly ground pepper
Crusty country bread cut or torn into bite sized pieces

Special equipment: a fondue pot, stand for the pot, alcohol burner and long handled fondue forks

Grate the cheeses, sprinkle with cornstarch and toss to combine.

Rub the fondue pot with the garlic. Drop both halves in the bottom of the pot, add the wine and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Add the cheese in handfuls and cook, stirring constantly, until the cheese is melted and bubbling. Stir in the kirsch and sprinkle with freshly ground pepper.

Set the fondue pot on its stand over a low flame. Pierce a piece of bread with a fondue fork and swirl it through the cheese.

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One Year Ago – Flatbread with Mushrooms, Caramelized Onions & Spinach
Two Years Ago – Tuscan White Bean Soup
Three Years Ago – Wild Mushroom Risotto
Four Years Ago – Swimming Pool Jello
Or Click Here! for a complete list of and links to all the recipes on this blog!

When was the last time you had a fondue? Let’s get a conversation going.

Want more? I’ve got links to lots more to read, see & cook as well as a day in the life photoblog! In addition, I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good. © Susan W. Nye, 2013

Gastro-Anthropology & Pumpkin Cheesecake

I love Thanksgiving. Having grown up in Massachusetts, the holiday has special meaning. Every year, from kindergarten on, our teachers gave us special Pilgrim projects. It started with construction paper pilgrim hats and headdresses. Later we studied New World agriculture. My lasting take away was that dead fish were used as fertilizer. Of course we read the famous Longfellow poem about Priscilla Mullins’ romantic entanglements with Miles Standish and John Alden. There must have been more but those are the highlights. Party hats, dead fish and a love triangle.

Except for the big family dinner. My mom always made a big deal about Thanksgiving. For two or three days, she (who never really liked to cook) cooked up a storm. Mom stuck with tradition. Generation after generation, decade after decade, no one but no one had ever dared mess with the menu. There was turkey with gravy and bread stuffing, oyster dressing, butternut squash, turnip, creamed onions and mashed potatoes followed by pies, apple and pumpkin.

And then I moved to Switzerland. The Swiss do not celebrate Thanksgiving and, to add insult to injury, they frequently confuse it with Halloween. Even half a world away, I could not ignore this day of thanks. I decided to invite a dozen or so friends and colleagues for dinner. But not just any dinner, I promised them an authentic, New England Thanksgiving feast.

About a week before the party, I sat down with paper, pencil and the Fanny Farmer Cookbook. As I worked on my shopping list, it hit me. For my first big dinner party in my newly adopted country, I was going to serve a brown, alright make that brown and beige, dinner. Even dessert, apple pie, was brown. Then again, there would be cranberry sauce. So change that. This newbie expatriate (and newbie cook) was going to serve a brown dinner with jam.

But I had promised authentic and, so, I plunged ahead.

A poultry farm in Arkansas shipped frozen turkeys to Switzerland. I had never cooked a turkey but there were directions on the shrink-wrap. (As well as a warning to remove the gizzards.) My mother’s old standby, Pepperidge Farm stuffing mix, was nowhere to be found but fabulous artisanal bread was everywhere. The nearest butternut squash was an ocean away but Cinderella had left a slew of pumpkins. The market had of plenty of potatoes, onions and my favorite Granny Smith apples.

I could do this.

The party was all set for Saturday night. On Thursday (Thanksgiving Day), I left work early and shopped ‘til I dropped. Friday evening, fortified with a glass of wine and Fanny Farmer, I chopped and stirred until well past midnight. The next morning I was up at dawn for more chopping and stirring plus peeling and mashing, stuffing, trussing and basting.

Finally, with the turkey just about done, the doorbell rang. I greeted my guests nervously and explained that our authentic feast would be … in a word … monochromatic. Thankfully, my friends were polite, even curious. Not a disparaging word was heard. Indeed everyone seemed ready to embrace the experience and asked lots of questions. To this day I am convinced they saw the evening as an anthropological adventure.

Sitting down to dinner, we shared joyful toasts of thanks. Before long, the magic kicked in and dinner was less about brown food and more about good conversation, laughter and friendship.

I wish you all a wonderful Thanksgiving. Bon appétit!

Pumpkin Cheesecake
Although brown, this rich and creamy cheesecake was not served at my first Thanksgiving party. I added it to the menu in the late nineties and it became an instant favorite. Enjoy!
Serves 12-16

30-40 (enough for 2 cups finely ground crumbs) gingersnap cookies
2 tablespoons brown sugar
5 tablespoons butter, melted
2 pounds cream cheese at room temperature
1 1/2 cups sugar
3 eggs
1 1/2 cups pumpkin purée
1 cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon cognac or pure vanilla extract
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon ginger
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/4 teaspoon cloves
Garnish: whipped cream

Set a rack in the center of the oven. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Break the gingersnaps into pieces, put in a food processor and process until finely ground. Add the brown sugar and pulse to combine.

Put the cookie crumbs and butter in 10-inch springform pan and mix with a fork until well combined. Firmly press the crumbs into the bottom and about 1/2-inch up the sides of the pan. Tightly wrap the bottom and sides of the pan in two large sheets of heavy duty aluminum foil and bake at 350 degrees for 10 minutes. Cool the pan on a rack. Do not remove the foil.

Meanwhile, put the cream cheese, sugar and spices in a large bowl. Using an electric mixer, beat until smooth. Add the eggs one at a time, beating until smooth. Add the pumpkin, cream and cognac and beat until well combined.

Pour the pumpkin mixture into the springform pan and carefully place it in a large roasting pan. Add enough boiling water to come halfway up the sides of the springform pan.

Bake at 350 degrees until the cheesecake is golden, about 1 hour and 15 minutes. Carefully lift the cheesecake from the roasting pan and remove the foil. Cool the cheesecake in the springform pan to room temperarture on a rack. Still in the springform pan, cover and refrigerate overnight.

Using a thin knife, carefully cut around sides of the pan to loosen the cheesecake. Release the springform sides, cut the cheesecake into thin wedges and serve with a small dollop of whipped cream.

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One Year Ago – Rustic Apple Croustade
Two Years Ago – Cranberry Sauce
Three Years Ago – Decadent Cheesy Potatoes
Four Years Ago – Broccoli Puree

Or Click Here! for a complete list of and links to all the recipes on this blog!

How will you spend Election Night? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going.

Want more? I’ve got links to lots more to read, see & cook as well as a day in the life photoblog! In addition, I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good. © Susan W. Nye, 2012

A Trip to the Farmers’ Market & Salade de Crevettes Nicoise (Shrimp Salad Niçoise)

Many years ago I moved to Lausanne, Switzerland to work on a one year research project at an international business school. Apartments were in short supply but I managed to find a tiny, overpriced studio at the top of the town, high above the Lake of Geneva. The studio was furnished with a Murphy bed, a shabby table and chair and the world’s most uncomfortable sofa. But a picture window on the back wall framed a magnificent view of Notre-Dame Cathedral and the Alps. The studio might have been pricey but the view was priceless.

My office was down by the lake. Early every morning I headed down the steep, cobblestone streets past the train station and on to the wide, tree lined avenues of Ouchy. (That’s pronounced ooh-she not ouch-ee.) Within a day or two, I discovered a small farmers’ market. Once a week a handful of farmers set up shop on a narrow street above the station. Makeshift tables were loaded high with beautiful, just-picked fruits and vegetables.

I was tempted but if I shopped in the market I would need to speak French. French was a dim high school memory, barely spoken in almost ten years. Was I up for the challenge?

I plunged in. Behind one table a nice farmer lady smiled and asked if she could help me. I smiled back, gathered up a tomato or two, a head of lettuce, a zucchini and looked around for beans. I searched the back of my brain for the French word for beans and hit on légume. In English a legume is a dried bean. It stood to reason that légume could be the French word for bean. I frantically composed my request, took a deep breath and asked in fractured French, “Do you have légumes?” The nice lady replied politely and in perfect French. Yes, of course she had légumes but what kind of légumes did I want? Again I wracked my brain and remembered vert was green. “Légumes verts,” I replied.

That’s when she took pity on me and switched to English. Légumes was the French word for vegetables. Since she had lots of green vegetables, could I be more specific? I blushed and tried again, this time in English. She was delighted to sell me haricots verts.

Throughout the year I visited her table many times to buy vegetables and practice speaking French. I frequently fumbled and she just as frequently bailed me out. I soon learned she was a California native. She’d fallen in love with a Swiss farmer and was living happily ever after in a small village outside of Lausanne. When she wasn’t giving mini French lessons to befuddled expatriates, she helped him grow and sell vegetables.

The one year project in Lausanne ended but somehow or other I forgot to come home. After staying in Switzerland for almost two decades, I finally found my way back to Pleasant Lake. I still love a trip to the Farmers’ Market. Even if I don’t need a translator, our local markets have a unique charm found only in New England towns.

Enjoy a trip to the farmers’ market and celebrate summer’s bounty around the table with family and friends,

Bon appétit!

Salade de Crevettes Nicoise (Shrimp Salad Niçoise)
This colorful salade composée (composed salad) will make a beautiful centerpiece on your summer table and tastes wonderful. Enjoy!
Serves 6
1 pound new potatoes, cut in bite size pieces
Vinaigrette Niçoise (recipe follows)
1 pound green beans, trimmed and cut in half
1 pound assorted cherry and grape tomatoes, cut in half
1/2 small red onion, chopped
1/2 yellow pepper, seeded and chopped

1/2 European cucumber, peeled, seeded and chopped
1 1/2 pounds cooked large shrimp*
1/2 cup dry-pack, oil-cured black olives, pitted and roughly chopped
1-2 tablespoons capers, drained
Fresh, chopped parsley

Put the potatoes in a large pot of cold, salted water, set over high heat and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer until the potatoes are tender. Drain the potatoes well and transfer to a bowl. Combine the potatoes with just enough vinaigrette to coat and toss to combine. Cool to room temperature and refrigerate.

Meanwhile, bring salted water to a rapid boil in a large skillet. Add the beans and cook for 2-3 minutes, stirring a few times to cook the beans evenly. Drain and rinse with cold water to stop the cooking. Drain again and put the beans in a bowl with enough vinaigrette to lightly coat and toss. Store in the refrigerator.

Put the tomatoes, cucumber, onion and pepper in a bowl, sprinkle with salt and pepper and drizzle with enough vinaigrette to lightly coat and toss. Store in the refrigerator.

Remove the vegetables and shrimp from the refrigerator about 20-30 minutes before serving.

To serve: arrange the beans around the edges of a large deep platter or on individual plates. Spoon the potatoes into the center. Artfully sprinkle the tomatoes, cucumber, onion and pepper over the beans and potatoes. Top with shrimp, sprinkle with chopped olives, capers and parsley and serve.

* My Mediterranean Shrimp are perfect in this salad. Make ahead and store in the refrigerator. Alternatively, you can buy cooked shrimp and toss them in a little vinaigrette.

Vinaigrette Niçoise
4 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
3-4 cloves garlic
1-inch chunk red onion
1 teaspoon fresh thyme
Dash hot sauce
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
1/2 cup or to taste extra-virgin olive oil

Put the vinegar, mustard, garlic, onion, thyme and hot sauce in a blender or small food processor, season with salt and pepper and pulse to combine and chop the garlic and onion. With the machine running, slowly add the olive oil and process until incorporated.

Store extra vinaigrette in the refrigerator.

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One Year Ago – Insalata Caprese
Two Year Ago – Mojito Melons
Three Years Ago – Grilled Antipasto
Four Years Ago – Nana Nye’s Fish Chowder Or Click Here! for a complete list of and links to all the recipes on this blog!

Do you have a favorite Farmers’ Market? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going. 

Want more? I’ve got links to lots more to read, see & cook as well as a day in the life photoblog! In addition, I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good.

© Susan W. Nye, 2012

Farmers’ Market Photograph by Natalie Maynor. All other photographs by Susan Nye.

 

When the Going Gets Rough … The Tough Throw a Party & Mixed Greens with Roasted Beets & Lentils

It’s a world gone mad or at the very least a very strange winter. It gets warm and rains. Then the temperature plummets. When I wrote about this odd phenomenon a week or so ago, I figured (make that hoped) that a blizzard would hit New Hampshire as soon as the story hit the blogosphere. Even if I looked a little silly, I’d be grinning all the way down the mountain. I guess the law of opposites can’t be summoned on demand.

Living in Switzerland for a lot of years spoiled me.

The Alps are a skier’s paradise. Droughts are few and far between. Snow falls early and continues through April.

However, I do remember one winter when it refused to snow. No, it was not unseasonably warm, it didn’t rain either. The New Year came and went. Dejected skiers shared stories and pictures of holiday hikes and picnics on brown slopes under bright blue skies. January passed into February, still no snow.

Geneva is surrounded by mountains and during the drought a temperature inversion created a layer of fog. With each passing day, the fog grew thicker and thicker. There was no snow, no rain or even wind to clear the air. Just day after day of dreary, damp fog. Pollution levels skyrocketed and city health officials sounded the alarm. No one sounded an official Cranky Alert but they should have. Both then and now, I have a tendency to get cranky when winter does not act like winter. Same goes for summer and the rest of year

Anyway, it was my fourth, maybe fifth, year in Switzerland. I was young, single and had happily embraced the habit of skiing most (okay every) weekend. The exercise and fresh air was great and it was a fun way to meet people. Without snow, I was at loose ends and didn’t know what to do with myself.

I wasn’t alone. Everyone I knew was grumbling. Yes indeed, the going had gotten rough. But what to do about it? Take up skateboarding? Or hang gliding? Camp out at the movies? The perfect solution hit me around 11:30 on a Friday morning. The tough (that would be me) throw a party. There was no reason to delay; the next night was not too soon. I dubbed it my There’s-Still-No-Snow-&-I’m-Cranky Party. It was last minute so I figured I’d probably round up a handful of people. I thought wrong.

Two were tied up for dinner but promised to be there by 10:00. Everyone else accepted enthusiastically. Delighted for any distraction from the dreary weather, about a dozen queued up in less than an hour. My boss got very little work out of me that afternoon. Voicemails were returned and a few more calls were made. Word got out and not just a few extras asked to tag along. By the end of the day at least twenty people were looking forward to cramming into my little apartment.

All were commanded and promised to bring good cheer. Most brought a bottle of wine, an hors d’oeurvre, salad or desert as well. It was great fun, a welcome respite from too many grey days. The food and wine were good, the company and dancing better. The party lasted far into the wee hours. Around dawn, I threw the last few stragglers out. Now you’re probably thinking (maybe hoping) that this impromptu get-together generated some kind of kismet or good karma and broke the drought. You’re picturing those last few guests stumbling out the door into a winter wonderland. Sounds like a Hollywood movie, doesn’t it? …… I could write that, it would make a nice story, but it wouldn’t be true.

Think snow, have fun and bon appétit!

Mixed Greens with Roasted Beets & Lentils
I discovered lentil salad when I lived in Switzerland. This recipe is my latest rendition of the classic French favorite. Enjoy!
Serves 8 as an appetizer and 4 as a main course

4 medium beets, red or gold or a mix, peeled and cut into wedges
1 medium red onion, roughly chopped
Extra virgin olive oil
Sherry vinegar
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
About 8 ounces mixed greens
Sherry Vinaigrette (recipe follows)
3-4 ounces feta, crumbled
1/2 cup pumpkins seeds or chopped and toasted walnuts

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Put the beets and onion on separate sheet pans. Drizzle each with just enough equal parts olive oil and vinegar to lightly coat, season with salt and pepper and toss to combine.

Tossing once or twice, roast the beets for 30 minutes or until lightly caramelized and tender and the onions for about 15 minutes or until tender-crisp. Cool slightly.

To serve: Toss the greens with enough sherry vinaigrette to lightly coat. Put the greens on individual plates or a large platter. Spoon lentils on the greens, top with beets and onion and sprinkle with crumbled feta and walnuts.

Serve the lentils and beets warm but not hot or at room temperature. Both can be made ahead, cooled to room temperature and refrigerated. Remove from the refrigerator about 30 minutes before serving.

Lentils
Extra virgin olive oil
4 ounces thick-cut bacon, diced
1 cup dry lentils
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 carrot, finely chopped
1 stalk celery, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 1⁄2 cups chicken stock
2-3 sprigs fresh thyme
1 bay leaf
2 tablespoons sherry vinegar
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Drizzle a little olive oil in a medium saucepan, add the bacon and cook until crisp. Remove the bacon with a slotted spoon and drain. Add the onion, carrot and celery and cook for 5 minutes or until the onion start to become translucent. Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute more.

Add the lentils, chicken stock, thyme and bay leaf and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low; cover and simmer for 20 minutes or until the lentils are tender but not mushy. Remove the thyme twigs and bay leaf and drain any excess liquid. Add the vinegar and bacon to the lentils and season to taste.

Sherry Vinaigrette
Makes about 1 cup

1/4 cup sherry vinegar
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 cloves garlic
2 tablespoons chopped shallot
1/4 teaspoon or to taste hot pepper sauce
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
About 3/4 cup or to taste extra virgin olive oil

Put the vinegar, mustard, garlic, shallot and pepper sauce in a blender. Season with salt and pepper and process until smooth. With the motor running, slowly add the olive oil and process until smooth.

Transfer the vinaigrette to a storage container with a tight fitting lid. Let the vinaigrette sit for 30 minutes or more to let the flavors combine. Give the vinaigrette a vigorous shake before using.

Store extra vinaigrette in the refrigerator.

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One Year Ago – Chicken Niçoise
Two Year Ago – Greek Pizza
Three Years Ago – Triple Threat Brownies
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Are you a skier? How are you coping with this year’s snow drought? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going. To make a comment, just click on Comments below. I’d be delighted to add you to the growing list of blog subscribers. To subscribe: just scroll back up, fill in your email address and click on the Sign Me Up button. You’ll get an email asking you to confirm your subscription … confirm and you will automatically receive a new story and recipe every week.

Want more? Click here for lots more to read, see & cook! In addition, I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good. ©Susan W. Nye, 2012

Escalade & Chocolate Truffles

Living in Geneva for almost two decades was a wonderful experience. It is a beautiful lakeside city and I have many fond memories of my time there. Among them is the Escalade. A cross between Independence Day, Thanksgiving and Halloween, Geneva celebrates the Escalade in early December.

While most of the ancient walls surrounding the city have disappeared, in1602 they protected the town from invasion. That’s when the dastardly Duke of Savoy laid siege on the city. Throughout the night of December 11th and 12th the Savoyards attacked, attempting to scale the walls and take over the city. The attempt to scale the walls gave the battle, and later the holiday, the name Escalade.

All seemed lost until Mother Royaume, defending the lives and liberty of her fourteen children, threw a cauldron of boiling soup over the wall and onto the invading soldiers. Burned and bruised by the steaming soup and heavy iron pot, the Savoyards realized they were no match for la Mère and the fearless Genevois patriots. They turned tail and headed back to Savoy.

Every year, Geneva takes a week to celebrate the Escalade. It is a great time to explore the Old Town. Wandering through the narrow streets and alleys, you will very likely bump into some of the descendents Geneva’s early citizens. Dressed in 17th century garb, they lead the festivities and turn the Old Town into a living museum. On the final evening of the celebration, a torchlight procession with fifes and drums winds through Geneva’s ancient cobbled streets to Cathedral Square for a bonfire. There are no fireworks but canons are fired and proclamations are read.

Since Switzerland is renowned for its wonderful chocolate, it’s only natural that Mère Royaume’s infamous soup kettle be immortalized in sweet, creamy goodness. There are lovely, little chocolate shops on every street corner. During December their windows are all filled with beautiful chocolate soup kettles or marmites. They come in all sizes and are crammed full of marzipan vegetables and other sweets.

Many Swiss families celebrate the Escalade with a dinner. The traditional menu includes soup, of course, plus turkey, cardoons, a relative of the artichoke, and a giant chocolate marmite. At the end of the dinner, the oldest and youngest at the party take a rolling pin and smash the chocolate marmite. Chocolate and marzipan fly and everyone scrambles to collect the sweets.

I don’t know why, I’m not sure if anyone knows why but Escalade celebrations include a sort of Trick or Treat. Children dress in costume, ride the tram, go door-to-door and even wander through a café or two singing the Escalade song. This song has a seemingly endless supply of verses but my sources tell me there are really only sixty-eight. In appreciation friends, neighbors and as well as hapless bystanders hand out coins and candies. Or maybe it’s a desperate attempt to stop all that singing. I did discover on more than one occasion that the young Genevois will continue to sing and sing, and sing some more, until you give them a treat.

Enjoy the holiday season with a big cauldron of soup or maybe some Swiss inspired chocolates!

Bon appétit!

Chocolate Truffles

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Use good quality chocolate, preferably Swiss, to make luscious truffles for the holidays. Enjoy!

Makes about 4 dozen truffles
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16 ounces dark chocolate
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
2 tablespoons cognac (optional)
2 tablespoons brewed espresso or very strong coffee
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
16 ounces milk or white chocolate

Chop the semisweet chocolate and put it in a heavy sauce pan with the cream and cinnamon. Cook over very low heat, carefully whisking the cream and chocolate together, until the chocolate melts.

Transfer the chocolate cream to a bowl and whisk in the cognac, espresso and vanilla. Chill in the refrigerator, stirring a few times, for 2 hours or until the chocolate mixture is thick and firm enough to scoop.

Line a baking sheet with a silicon mat or parchment paper. With a mini ice cream scoop or 2 teaspoons, make dollops of chocolate and place them on the baking sheet. Refrigerate for 30-45 minutes or until firm enough to roll into rough balls.

Place the chocolate balls in the freezer for about one hour or until very cold.

Chop the milk (or white) chocolate and melt half of it over very low heat in a heavy sauce pan. Remove from the heat and add the remaining chocolate. Let the chocolate sit for a few minutes to melt. Stir to combine.

Dip the cold chocolate balls in the melted chocolate until completely covered. Place them on the silicon lined baking sheet. Let the truffles set for a couple of hours or overnight in the refrigerator.

About a half hour before serving, remove the truffles from the refrigerator and let them sit uncovered. Serve at room temperature.

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One Year Ago – Smoked Salmon Mousse
Two Years Ago – Roasted Beans
Three Years Ago – Winter Soup with Pasta, Beans & Greens
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© Susan W. Nye, 2011

La Vendange & Croûtes au Fromage

I’ve been feeling a bit peevish lately. Maybe it’s the too-many rainy days but I find myself feeling a bit homesick for Geneva. It should come as no surprise that from time to time this nostalgia should creep in and darken my usually sunny mood. After all, I lived in and around Geneva for almost two decades.

Like New England, it is harvest time in Switzerland. Just minutes from downtown Geneva, farmers are piling up corn and turnips (or maybe they’re rutabagas) for the cows. Cabbages and cauliflowers are being plucked. Foragers are scouring the forest in search of wild mushrooms. And the hills are perfumed with the slightly sweet, slightly sour smell of fermenting grapes.

It is all hands on deck for la vendange (the grape harvest). Crews move up and down the rows of grapes, cutting big bunches of ripe fruit and tossing them into baskets. As soon as they are filled to overflowing, the pickers empty their baskets into the carts which noisy tractors pull through the vineyards. The tractors rumble over country lanes to the local chateau where the grapes are crushed and made into wine. Along the way a few grapes fall to the ground and are trampled. They bake in the warm autumn sun and fill the air with their vinegary scent. Like the smell of burning leaves from my childhood, the prickly perfume of crushed grapes will stay with me forever. It is a special reminder of the changing seasons and a wonderful time in my life.

I’m far from expert but, real or imagined, I had my favorite wines. I looked over the border to France and Italy for reds but bought local white wines. Sure I loved to walk through the vineyards behind Geneva and hike in the hills east of Lausanne. However when it came time to pour a glass, I preferred the dry white wines made from the grapes grown between these two cities. I could make some noises about other wines which were too astringent or flat. I could yammer on about hints of vanilla, lemon or herbs. I could but I’d feel silly and pretentious and wouldn’t know what I was talking about so I won’t.

As far as I can figure most if not every village up and down the coast of Lake Geneva makes its own wine. I can’t say for sure that all the wines are made in the charming old chateaux that dot the hills and lakeside but I like to think so. Each fall, at least some of these grand old chateaux open their doors to sell the previous year’s bounty. In the smallest villages, demand pretty much outweighs supply. Whether it is the fine quality of the wine or a sense of local pride, there are never enough bottles to go around. I lived in one such town for awhile. Loyal villagers lined up every fall to restock their cellars. Within a day, maybe two, the most recent vintage was sold out.

My sentimental choice will always be Mont-sur-Rolle. My introduction to Swiss wine was on a flower-filled terrace in Mont-sur-Rolle on a beautiful summer evening. While often tempted, I never lived in the charming hillside town. Still I always kept a few bottles of her wine in my makeshift cellar. I think I may still have one or two. It may be time to open one up for a nostalgic toast to fond memories, the change of seasons and a bountiful harvest.

Bon appétit!

Croûtes au Fromage
Delicious but hardly a light lunch this Swiss specialty is great after a vigorous walk, long bike ride or morning on the ski slopes. Do not drive or operate heavy machinery after indulging. Instead, treat yourself to a snooze on the couch and dream about life en Suisse. Enjoy!
Serves 2

About 4 ounces gruyere or emmental cheese (or better yet a mix of both), grated

About 1/4 teaspoon minced garlic
3-4 tablespoons dry white wine (Swiss if you have it!)
Freshly ground pepper to taste
2 thick slices country bread
Butter

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees.

Put the cheese, garlic and wine in a bowl, season with pepper and toss to combine. Let the cheese and wine sit for a few minutes.

Butter one side of each slice of bread and lay them in a small casserole dish. oven-proof skillet or individual casserole dishes. The bread should just fit the pan.

Spread the cheese mixture evenly over the bread. Drizzle any wine that has settled in the bottom of the bowl over the cheese and bread.

Bake at 425 degrees for about 15 minutes or until the cheese is golden brown and bubbly.

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One Year Ago – Tex-Mex Braised Beef
Two Years Ago – Spicy Chicken Stew
Three Years Ago – Chicken Chili

Do you have a favorite wine or harvest story? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going. To make a comment, just click on Comments below.

I’d be delighted to add you to the growing list of blog subscribers. To subscribe: just scroll back up, fill in your email address and click on the Sign Me Up button. You’ll get an email asking you to confirm your subscription … confirm and you will automatically receive a new stories and recipes.

Want more? Feel free to visit my photoblog Susan Nye 365 or click here for more recipes and magazine articles or here to watch me cook! I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good.   

© Susan W. Nye, 2011

Confessions of a Sweet Corn Bandit & Grilled Corn, Black Bean & Avocado Salsa

Forget the Fourth of July fireworks, sand castles and the Hospital Day Parade. No summer event is more eagerly anticipated, more impatiently awaited than the first ears of sweet corn. Want perfection? Minutes after it’s picked, husk a ripe ear of corn and plunge it into a pot of boiling water. Cook it for exactly 4 minutes and enjoy bliss with a little butter and salt.

Like many women, thirteen was one of the worst times of my life. I was plagued with the usual angst of adolescence. I had my fair share of pimples. My unruly curls produced a never ending run of bad hair days, particularly in the summer. And, I had braces. My teeth were encased in torturous steel, wire and rubber bands. Not only painful, braces made it virtually impossible to eat corn on the cob. After the first bite, kernels were hideously and obstinately embedded in every steel nook and cranny. Taking pity on me, my mother tried cutting the kernels off the cob. It just didn’t taste the same. In despair, I gave up fresh corn for the duration.

When I moved to Switzerland I was again deprived of sweet corn. For close to twenty years I lived near Geneva; where, until fairly recently, corn on the cob was only for cows. About the time I packed my bags to move back to the States, corn on the cob began to trickle ever so slowly onto supermarket shelves. Grown in southern Africa, by the time the ears arrived they were a poor and pitiful shadow of what sweet corn should be.

There is a lot of open farm land surrounding Geneva and the Swiss grow cow corn in abundance. After all it takes a lot of corn to feed the cows to get the milk to make all that cheese and chocolate. Bicycling through those fields was one of my favorite weekend activities. I always looked at those fields with longing (for sweet corn) and despair (because it wasn’t). One particular Saturday, some friends and I went on a long bike ride past row after row of ripening corn.

After the ride, we joined forces for an impromptu potluck cookout. Preparations were well underway when a few of us were hit by the nagging sense that something was missing. Corn on the cob of course! Fueled by optimism and hope, we decided that there must surely be a tiny window when cow corn was sweet and crisp. And of course we figured that the tiny window was open at just that very minute.

And so began the great Corn Caper. We donned baseball caps, hoodies and sunglasses, hopped back on our bikes and went off to pilfer the nearest field. Our band of merry thieves was not made up of foolish teenage hooligans but foolish thirty-something professionals uncontrollably driven by delicious memories of fresh sweet corn. At least for the moment we didn’t care if our families were shamed by scandalous headlines (Foreigners Arrested in Agricultural Heist – Deportation Imminent). Nor did we worry that the farmer might skip 911 and fill our backsides with buck shot.

We completed our raid without apprehension or worse and returned to the party with backpacks stuffed with corn. Working against the clock, we husked the ears and threw them into boiling water. With great anticipation we all took the first, long-awaited bite. Edible, but tough and tasteless. We were denied that sweet taste of summer … and home.

Of course there was an upside to the whole debacle. Since our caper could hardly be called successful, I was not tempted to quit my job and begin a life of crime. Enjoy summer’s bounty and,

Bon appétit!

Grilled Corn, Black Bean & Avocado Salsa
This salsa is great as an appetizer with tortilla chips and delicious as a side dish with chicken or seafood. Enjoy!
Makes 5-6 cups

Juice of 1 lime
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil plus more for the corn
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon or to taste minced jalapeno
1 teaspoon cumin
Kosher salt to taste
2-3 ears corn, shucked (about 1 1/2 cups of kernels)
1 pound tomatoes, cored, seeded and chopped (about 1 1/2 cups chopped tomato)
2-3 scallions, thinly sliced or about 1/2 small red onion, finely chopped
1 1/2 cups (15-ounce can) cooked black beans, rinsed and drained
2-3 tablespoons roughly chopped cilantro leaves
1-2 avocados, chopped

Put the lime juice, olive oil, garlic, jalapeno and cumin in a small bowl, season with salt and whisk to combine. Let sit for at least 10 minutes to combine the flavors.

Preheat the grill to high. Brush the corn with a little olive oil. Lay the ears directly on the grill and cook for 3-5 minutes, turning to cook evenly. Remove from the grill and when they are cool enough to handle, use a sharp knife to remove the kernels from the cobs. (When fresh corn is not available, stir-fry frozen shoepeg corn in a little olive oil over medium-high heat until lightly browned.)

Put the corn, tomatoes, scallions and black beans in a large bowl and toss to combine. Pour the lime juice-olive oil mixture over the vegetables and toss to combine. Add the cilantro and toss again. Let sit for 15-20 minutes or up to a few hours in the refrigerator to mix and meld the flavors.

Add the avocado, toss to combine and serve immediately as a dip with your favorite tortilla chips or as a side dish with grilled chicken or seafood.

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One Year Ago – Crostini with Goat Cheese
Two Years Ago – Corn & Chicken Chowder
Three Years Ago – Joe Nye’s Perfect Lobster  

Did you suffer through braces in middle school and high school? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going. To make a comment, just click on Comments below.

I’d be delighted to add you to the growing list of blog subscribers. To subscribe: just scroll back up, fill in your email address and click on the Sign Me Up button. You’ll get an email asking you to confirm your subscription … confirm and you will automatically receive a new story and recipe every week.

Feel free to visit my other, cleverly named blog, Susan Nye’s Other Blog, or photoblog Susan Nye 365. You can find more than 250 recipes, links to magazine articles and lots more on my website. I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good.©Susan W. Nye, 2011

Salad Days & Vinaigrettes

I’m ready for warm sunshine and cool salads. I want to pull out one of my big, oversized planters and scatter a handful of seeds for baby greens. I love salads. I always have, even when I was a kid. Even when I was a kid in the winter and salads were made from pale tasteless iceberg lettuce and pale tasteless tomatoes. Of course with those salads, it is quite possible that all I really liked were the salad dressings. They were all out of a bottle, the saltier and garlic-ier the better. 

I’ve grown up a little since then, not a lot but a little. My salads are now a lively mix of colorful greens and yummy vegetables. As for salad dressings, I steer clear of bottles and brands and make my own. Instead of salad dressing, I now call it vinaigrette. I’m not sure if I’m getting fancy or just pretentious.

I began making my own salad dressing or vinaigrette when I lived in Switzerland. A good bottled dressing was just one of the many things I had trouble finding when I first moved abroad. I tried a few but couldn’t find one that I liked. Then my friend Nicole invited me for dinner and I fell in love with her salad.

She started with an incredibly easy vinaigrette which took only seconds to make. A classic, you will find it or something very similar in little cafés all over France. Nicole tossed this simple vinaigrette with a big bowl of salade de rampon. Also known as lamb’s lettuce and mache, it is one of my absolute favorites. Unless you grow it yourself, rampons are difficult, maybe impossible to find here in rural New Hampshire. Not to worry, this classic vinaigrette pairs perfectly with crispy leaf lettuce, soft bib lettuce, mixed baby greens, even and especially endive. If this French classic had a middle name, it would be versatility.

Here is Nicole’s fabulously simple salad:

Salad Greens with Classic Vinaigrette for 4-6
Put 1 tablespoon of red wine vinegar in a salad bowl,
Whisk in a pinch of sea salt and a couple fresh grinds of pepper,
Add 1/2 teaspoon of Dijon mustard and whisk to combine.
Slowly whisk in 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil. Whisk until the vinaigrette is thick and creamy.
Add 8 to 12 ounces of greens. When you are ready to serve, gently toss the greens until they are nicely coated with vinaigrette. Could it be any easier?

I usually plan on 1 to 2 ounces of greens and 1/2 to 1 tablespoon of vinaigrette per person. Depending on the size of your party and the size of your bowl, you can make more or less. Just remember the 1 to 3 ratio of vinegar to extra virgin olive oil and add mustard, salt and pepper to taste.  If you like a sharper vinaigrette, add a touch more vinegar.

Since I don’t have six people around my table every evening, I find it handy to make up a big jar to keep on hand. It usually lasts for a week or ten days, ready to toss with a big bowl of greens for twelve or a quick lunchtime salad for one.  

Classic Vinaigrette by the Half-Pint
Pour about 1/4 cup red wine vinegar into a clean glass jar,
Add 1/2-1 teaspoon sea salt and several fresh grinds of pepper,
Give the jar a shake to help the salt dissolve.
Add 1 tablespoon of Dijon mustard, shake to combine.
Add 3/4 cup extra virgin olive oil and shake like crazy until the vinaigrette is thick and creamy. If you don’t want to shake like crazy put everything in a blender and give it a whirl.

But my vinaigrette adventures didn’t end with this French classic. A few years later I discovered another amazing vinaigrette at a restaurant a few miles outside of Geneva. Although it does have a name, I always think of it as “the chicken place”. It’s called the Auberge de something or other. Yes, that’s it, the Auberge de Dully. Surrounded by vineyards, this rustic little inn and restaurant sits on a hill high above the Lake of Geneva. It is famous for its chicken as you might have guessed from its nickname. 

Dinner is relaxed and served family style. Big bowls of green salad, platters of perfectly roasted chicken and crispy potatoes are passed around the table. The salad is tossed in a fantastic vinaigrette. I’ve figured out that the secret or not so secret ingredient is shallots. I have tried to duplicate it but I’ve never managed to get the right balance of flavors. My numerous attempts have all turned out too strong, too bland, too tart or too dull, never just right.

Eventually I gave up and came up with my own:

Garlic-Shallot Vinaigrette
Pour about 1/4 cup red wine vinegar and 1-2 tablespoons of balsamic vinegar into a blender,
Add 1 tablespoon of Dijon mustard, 1 teaspoon anchovy paste or sea salt, several fresh grinds of pepper, 2-3 garlic cloves and a chunk of shallot or red onion (about 1 inch by 1 inch by 2 inches).
Process until everything is very smooth.
Next, with the blender on low, slowly add about 3/4 cup, or maybe a little more depending on your taste, extra virgin olive oil and process until the vinaigrette is thick and creamy. 

And there you have it. Drizzle a little over a bowl of crispy leaf lettuce or arugula, spinach or a mix of baby greens. Add some crumbled blue cheese if you like and some toasted walnuts and give it a toss.

And now the ultimate in simplicity! I have tried many wonderful vinaigrette recipes over the years. One in particular stands out. It is not only delicious; it is the simplest of them all. All you do is whisk balsamic vinegar, sea salt, freshly ground pepper and extra virgin olive oil together in the bottom of a salad bowl. Use the 1 to 3 ratio of vinegar to oil. Next throw in handfuls of beautiful fresh greens and toss to coat. That’s it.

All three of these vinaigrettes are terrific. They taste better and are better for you than anything you’ll find on the supermarket shelf. They come together in a flash and have no multisyllabic, incomprehensible or unpronounceable ingredients.  Forget bottled dressings, quick and easy vinaigrettes are what all the best dressed salads will be wearing this spring and summer! Enjoy and bon appétit!       

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One Year Ago – Rhubarb Muffins

The nice people at Olivia’s Organics (they sponsor my Eat Well – Do Good dinners) would like to offer all Around the Table readers a coupon good for $1.00 toward the purchase of their favorite Olivia’s product.

Do you have a question? An idea, a few thoughts or an opinion you’d like to share? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going. To make a comment, just click on Comments below.

I’d be delighted to add you to the growing list of blog subscribers. To subscribe: just scroll back up, fill in your email address and click on the Sign Me Up button. You’ll get an email asking you to confirm your subscription … confirm and you will automatically receive a new story and recipe every week.

Feel free to visit my other, cleverly named blog, Susan Nye’s Other Blog, or website at www.susannye.com. You can find more than 200 recipes, links to magazine articles and lots more. I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good. ©Susan W. Nye, 2010

On Being an Expatriate & Filet de Perche

Becoming an expatriate was exciting. Being an expatriate was exciting, fascinating and fun. It was also challenging, frustrating and nerve-wracking. There is more than one kind of expatriate and not all are created equal. There are the backpacking will-work-for-food expatriates. They are on their own, left to their own wiles and devices to find a job, a roof and everything else. At the other end of the spectrum are the executives. Shipped overseas by their companies, they are gently guided on their journey. From finding a house to making a dinner reservation, every twist, turn and bump is smoothed out for them.

Lucky me, I more or less fell into a job so I was one up on the will-work-for-food types.  My luck held and I found a studio apartment in a couple of hours; an almost unheard of feat in Lausanne. The decor was akin to a 1960’s no-tell motel but the view was incredible. My good fortune lulled me into believing that living abroad would be a snap.

My first few days as a bona fide Swiss resident were full of fun and very romantic. Not lovey-dovey romantic but adventurous, wow this is so cool romantic. Sitting on my little balcony while the moon rose over Lausanne’s 13^th century Notre Dame Cathedral was like a dream come true. My walk to work took me by an equally ancient church. I drank white wine from funny little glasses while admiring the view of Lac Léman and the French Alps. I wandered through the old town and found the farmers’ market, charming cafés and trendy boutiques. Life was a series of interesting discoveries.

My head didn’t stay in the clouds forever. After a glorious week in la-la land, reality hit. I discovered that many simple facts of life had changed. In my new expatriate life, pizza was eaten with a knife and fork. I wore size thirty-seven shoes. The bus was never late. My building had at least thirty studios but only one washer and dryer. There was not a single laundromat in Lausanne. And the supermarket was always closed when I was free to shop! I discovered that je ne savais rien (I knew nothing). I was often confused. My new Swiss colleagues just shrugged and advised, “On fait comme ça en Suisse.” (That’s how we do it in Switzerland.)

I was plagued by silly little problems, ridiculous really. It took weeks to get a phone. It sounded simple. Go to the post office, fill out a form and hand it to the guy at the counter. He promised service in three to five days. After three days I got a postcard with my new number. I checked the phone; no dial tone. Five days; still no dial tone. Ten days. Three weeks. My colleagues shrugged. Eventually, someone mentioned something about a deposit. WHAT DEPOSIT!?! The form didn’t ask for a deposit. The guy who took the form didn’t ask for a deposit. Somehow I was just supposed to know that foreigners had to put down a deposit. Back to the post office, I plunked down 300 francs. Twenty-four hours later, voila! A dial tone! Then a new problem revealed itself; who to call? Except for work, I knew next to no one.

As could be expected, before long I received a bill or two and of course needed to pay them. I asked around. To my horror I discovered that bills were paid with cash at the post office. I began to think that the post office was the center of the Swiss universe. Anyway, off I went with a fistful of francs, stood forever in a glacially slow line and eventually handed over the invoices and money. Too many months later, I learned, purely by chance, that the bank would do it for me. By mail. No line.

…and of course there was more, how to open a bank account, how not to get a credit card, buy health insurance, get a credit card, buy a car and on and on and on… it took more than a decade but I finally figured it all out. Just in time to move to California and learn how to do it all over again!

Bon appétit!

Filet de Perche Meunière

A Lac Léman specialty, Filet de Perche Meunière will always remind me of warm spring and summer evenings and long, lazy dinners with good friends under the stars. Enjoy!

Serves 6

1 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1 teaspoon paprika
2 pounds fresh lake perch, skinned and filleted
Olive oil
6 tablespoons butter, cut into small pieces
1/4 cup white wine
Juice of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
Lemon wedges

Mix the flour, salt, pepper and paprika together. Lightly dredge the perch filets in the flour, shake off any excess.

Heat a large sauté pan over medium-high heat; add a little olive oil to the pan. In batches, carefully place the fish fillets in the pan and cook a few minutes per side. Remove the fish from the pan and place on an oven proof platter; set the platter in a warm oven while you cook the remaining filets.

Make the Meunière Sauce: Reduce the heat to medium and melt the butter in the skillet. As soon as the butter starts to bubble, whisk in the white wine and lemon juice. Cook for about 1 minute, swirling the pan once or twice.

Remove the fish from the oven and pour the sauce over the fish, sprinkle with parsley and serve immediately with lemon wedges.

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One Year Ago – Chicken Provencal

Do you have a question? An idea, a few thoughts or an opinion you’d like to share? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going. To make a comment, just click on Comments below.

I’d be delighted to add you to the growing list of blog subscribers. To subscribe: just scroll back up, fill in your email address and click on the Sign Me Up button. You’ll get an email asking you to confirm your subscription … confirm and you will automatically receive a new story and recipe every week.

Feel free to visit my other, cleverly named blog, Susan Nye’s Other Blog, or website at www.susannye.com. You can find more than 200 recipes, links to magazine articles and lots more. I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good. ©Susan W. Nye, 2010

On Becoming an Expatriate & Lavender Infused White Chocolate Crème

Moving to a new country provides wonderful opportunities to see new places, meet new people and experience a million and one new things. I recently ran into a list of 100 reasons to become an expatriate. I like lists; I was an expatriate, so I immediately gave it a read through. In spite of its length, it was hardly exhaustive. After all, every expatriate has his or her own particular, often peculiar, rhymes and reasons for pulling up stakes and moving to another country.

Some people move abroad to fulfill a lifelong dream while others are chasing a fantasy. They want to live like Ernest Hemmingway, Josephine Baker or Jack Kerouac. They dream of wrestling fish or picking grapes, falling in love and capturing it all in the next, great American novel. Does it count if the book is written overseas? Doesn’t that make it the next, great Tunisian novel or French novel or at the very least expatriate novel?

Some people change countries for practical reasons; a new job, to learn a language or because there is no extradition treaty with the Unite States. Others have more romantic motives; a new spouse, dreams of finding Prince Charming or if he’s unavailable, to date an Italian (a real Italian, one with an Italian accent). Some expatriates are running away, some are running to and some are just running.

I was an accidental expatriate. I sort of lucked into it. I was in my mid-twenties and finishing graduate school when I was offered an internship. One thing led to another and another and another and somehow or other I forgot to come home.

For almost two decades.

For most of that time I lived in Switzerland and traveled all over Europe, the Middle East and Africa. For a year or two I lived on the west coast and traveled all over the world. And yes, with my New England roots, I indeed felt like an expatriate in sunny California. I never picked grapes or wrestled a big fish although for a while I harbored a small fantasy of writing a book. I even picked out the title: Notes from aBroad. As far as I can remember these were my whys and wherefores when I picked up stakes, moved and then stayed in Switzerland:

1. For heaven sakes why not? It’s only eight weeks. And I can spend a month in Italy afterwards.
2. And then…it’s only for a year. I can see lots more than Italy! (And I did!)
3. And then…it’s a great job offer; really interesting work at a decent salary! The US is in the middle of a recession so interesting jobs are few and far between, any job is few and far between. Besides it’s only for two more years.
4. Because Switzerland is in the middle of it all. It’s quick and easy to get anywhere from there… to visit the Louvre and eat oysters in Paris, to buy a suede jacket and eat pasta in Florence, to bicycle through the countryside and eat duck in Provence, to see a show and eat Chinese in London, and, and, and…
5. Because after years of mediocrity as a terminal intermediate, I might finally become a decent skier (and learn to make fondue).
6. Because I stayed in the US during my junior year of college. I guess I sort of wondered what I might have missed.
7. Because it was different, because no one else was packing up and moving to Europe.
8. Because there was no way I was ready to settle down or settle.
9. For the adventure, for the challenge…
10. For the fun of it all.

Bon appétit!

Lavender Infused White Chocolate Crème

I love the smell of lavender. When I returned to the US, a basket of dried lavender was packed away into one of my many boxes. It took awhile to find it but as soon as I opened the box and pulled out the basket, the room was filled with the scent of summer adventures in France. Bicycle trips, river rafting, hiking and wonderful dinners under the stars. It helped me feel at home again in my home country. Enjoy!
Serves 8

7 ounces good quality chocolate, chopped
2 cups heavy cream
2 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons dried edible lavender flowers
6 large egg yolks
Pinch nutmeg
Pinch cloves
Pinch salt
1 tablespoon kirsch
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Fresh raspberries or strawberries for garnish

1. Put the chocolate into a medium bowl and set aside.
2. Bring the cream, honey and lavender to just a simmer in a heavy saucepan over low heat, stirring occasionally. Remove the pan from the heat and let steep for 30 minutes. Pour the cream through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl and discard the lavender.
3. Fill a large bowl about half full with ice and water. Set aside.
4. Whisk the yolks, spices and salt together in a heavy saucepan. (If you use the pan from step 2 wash it before using it again.) Whisking constantly, slowly pour the cream into the saucepan. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly until it registers 170 degrees on a thermometer.
5. Pour the custard through a fine-mesh sieve into the bowl with the chocolate. Let set for a few minutes; whisk to combine. Stir in the kirsch and vanilla. Set the bowl of custard into the large bowl of ice water. Stirring frequently, let stand until cool. Refrigerate until very cold, at least 6 hours.
6. Beat with an electric mixer on a high speed until the crème increases in volume by about 50%. Return to the refrigerator and chill for 2 hours. Spoon the crème into small dessert or wine glasses, garnish with fresh raspberries and serve.

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One Year Ago – Lemon Tart

Do you have a question? An idea, a few thoughts or an opinion you’d like to share? I’d love to hear from you! Let’s get a conversation going. To make a comment, just click on Comments below.

I’d be delighted to add you to the growing list of blog subscribers. To subscribe: just scroll back up, fill in your email address and click on the Sign Me Up button. You’ll get an email asking you to confirm your subscription … confirm and you will automatically receive a new story and recipe every week.

Feel free to visit my other, cleverly named blog, Susan Nye’s Other Blog, or website at www.susannye.com. You can find more than 200 recipes, links to magazine articles and lots more. I hope that you will take a minute to learn about my philanthropic project Eat Well-Do Good. ©Susan W. Nye, 2010