Monday, 22 February 2010
American Cooking in France: Vegetarian Food
If there is one thing that one quickly comes to realise in France, it is that food here is sacrosanct. Not only do the French attach a very high importance to food, and its quality, in their lives, but this obsession works its way into nearly every facet of French life, from traditions, to employment law (hello two hour lunch breaks!), to the day to day rhythm of life.
One of the most shocking things to me about first coming here as an exchange student was the way that this also translated to a fierce opposition to vegetarianism (and kosher diets, and teetotalers, and any other deviation from the normal (i.e. "correct") way of eating food). The same sentiment that has sitcom chefs tipping over tables when an uncouth American wants to put ketchup on a steak also comes through with other deviancies from accepted practice. Sometimes this makes for a humorous anecdote, like when my mom tried to order an omelette, from a Parisian café that had them on the menu, in the morning (omelettes are only for lunch and dinner in France). Even though they had the eggs and mom was saying that that was what she wanted, she had to insist two or three times before the waiter agreed to let her order one ("mais, c'est le matin!")—and even then he made it clear that what she was doing was definitely wrong, in his opinion. This is not a country where the customer is always right, especially when there's food at stake.
At other times, though, like when a vegetarian comes to the country, the French hostility to their diet makes me cringe a bit. Gay marriage and topless women on the beach are fine here, but they draw the line at not having meat with your main course.
That is the general backdrop of the situation here, although, especially in Paris, vegetarians can thrive just fine. But they do have to put up with a hostility that, coming from a North American context, can be quite shocking. (Lest the reader think I am exagerating, when I arrived as an exchange student my "Welcome to France" orientation book had a very short rubric on vegetarianism: "Vegetarianism is not practised in France. Adapt."
I am not a vegetarian and have no desire to ever become one, but I am trying to reduce my consumption of red meat to around once a week or so, and to eat more fresh vegetables, and now during Lent I am taking the time to put some extra effort into this. So this has led me to pursue some vegetarian recipes online, and (as one who likes to cook a lot on Sunday and live off leftovers during the week), this Roasted vegetable and grain gratin provides an excellent template for vegetarian casseroles that can be modified in all sorts of simple ways to give a great variety—by switching out the grain, vegetable mix, sauce, and/or cheese selections it has almost limitless possibilities! Since French supermarkets have such a wonderful selection of interesting vegetables, I'm going to enjoy experimenting with some of the variations in the months ahead.
Sometimes coming up with a recipe is as simple as remembering that something exists. Chicken parmesan is one of my go-to dishes when eating out in the States; if nothing else on the menu screams out to be tried, I know that by ordering that I will always get a meal that I enjoy. But for whatever reason, it never even occured to me that I could make it at home. That is, until I ended up living in France and suddenly realised that I hadn't had chicken parmesan in ages.
This came about from a sudden need to use up a lot of spuds that I had bought for baked potatoes, but that had begun to sprout in the cupboard. We used to bake our au gratin potatoes with a pre-mixed canned version that we were perfectly happy with, but this was a good way to use up a lot of potatoes quickly, and was pretty easy to make. After discovering how easy it was to just make these from scratch, and at lower cost than buying the canned ones no less, from now on I think I'll always be making my au gratin potatoes myself.
Nothing was missing more from the holidays in France for me than Egg Nog. I used to drink gallons of this stuff back in America, but it's unknown here. Well I don't know what took me so long, but finally this year it occurred to me to see whether I couldn't make my own Egg Nog myself. The good news? It is a success! I now have Egg Nog in France, and it's pretty darn easy to make. 
Nothing says "gourmet cooking" like a good meatloaf. Ok, maybe not! But it is darn good food, easy to make, and makes plenty of leftovers, so I'm happy to make it anyway. Even if my French wife thinks we're just eating hamburgers without the bun :-)
Shepherd's pie is a big winner in my book because it's a complete meal in itself and you can make a lot of it at once—it's actually better as leftovers (the flavours have more time to blend). It also uses lots of Worcestershire sauce, something that French cooking, for all its many qualities, is sorely lacking. So having a good shepherd's pie from time to time is a great way to assert your Anglo-Saxon heritage as well :-)
The original recipe I used back home used Cambell's cheddar cheese soup, where you mixed in half the can in with the beef, and half with the potatoes. That really made the potatoes a lot better with this dish, but I haven't found a good substitute for it in France. Still, the recipe as given is pretty good too.
1. Rub the chicken all over with oil, salt, and pepper. 2. Drink half the beer, and plunk in the garlic cloves (the first time I made this I cut the top off the can completely, but I found that this risks getting bits of metal in your food! Instead now I cut a couple of slits across and fold the inside top of the can inward) 3. Stick the beer can in the chicken (leave the end sticking out, since you'll need to be able to get a good grip with tongs or pliers to pull it out later). 4. Put the chicken in a pan (to catch drippings), positioning it in such a way that all the beer doesn't spill out. (Most recipes will tell you to sit the chicken up vertically on the can; I've found that as it cooks it tends to fall over so I just prop it up on the edge of the drip pan, but maybe if you're well-equipped with skewers you can rig it to sit up.) 5. Cook at 175° C for 2 hours. 6. Remove the extremely hot beer can with tongs or pliers without burning yourself. 7. Serve with rice or potatoes and vegetables.
Save all the leftover meat for
Chicken pot pies are a great example of an American dish that I miss not being able to get in France. When I was in college, frozen chicken pot pies were, along with ramen and pizza, what kept me alive. With no frozen chicken pot pies here to be had, I have had to make them myself. Luckily, this is not too hard (especially if you cut corners and settle for a one-crust pie—although for this article I was feeling inspired and went with a two-crust pie), and provides an excellent use for left-over cooked chicken (which I have a lot of every time I make
This is easy to make. It's silly, but for the longest time I lamented not having Kraft macaroni and cheese in France, when in fact it's very easy to just make it yourself. A little more time consuming, granted, but if you make extra and freeze some you can make it go a long way.
When Emilie and I got engaged, one of the first presents her family gave her was a French cookbook of "American Recipes". This was a cute present, but not one that I would say she ever got much use out of. With the changes brought on by the baby, and with her and me having different standards when it came to the dinner table, the last few months have seen me gradually taking over most of the food preparation (whether out of helpfulness or exasperation!)
