my life in food. en France and back again: January 2012

So let’s move on to the Holidays and talk about three different but equally delicious types of bread that I had while I was at home. I took a three-week break and went home to Boston where I relaxed, saw family and friends, and ate. A LOT. It was wonderful.

#1
The first bread comes to us from Venezuela and is called “Pan de Jamon.” It is a traditional bread made during the holiday season and is a true crowd pleaser. I know I should do a little more reading on it, so I am unsure at the moment whether it is made only around the holidays. The information I have regarding this yummy and doughy bread comes from our next door neighbors- the matriarch of the clan Elizabeth was nice enough to share with us a loaf out of the many she was preparing for her own family’s celebration.

So here you go, feast your eyes on this:

I probably do not need to emphasize just how delicious and satisfying a slice of this bread was. The only trouble was stopping after just one slice. As you can see from the photo, the dough is rolled up with ham, olives, and raisins. It was a perfect marriage of sweet and salty without one overpowering the other. Can't wait until next Christmas. If only I could steal the recipe....

This second one is French. Pain d'épices.

The direct translation is Spice bread, and while it is sold in almost every supermarket in air-tight packaging in all its traditional variations with different types of dried fruit, the original recipe centers around one ingredient. It is the one that gives the French pain d'épices its distinct flavor and texture: Honey. In my opinion, the honey is what makes this holiday bread in France different from similar breads, namely gingerbread.

Rye flour, honey and spices is what packs a serious flavor punch! One bite of this decadent, moist, and hefty bread is like biting into a jolly and fragrant Christmas market (if that was even possible...)

Though there are different variations in France, and throughout Europe, I loved the one I bought at the Christmas market here in Nantes from a man who baked hundreds of pounds of pain d'épices in huge molds, and cut customers hefty slices, which he sells by the kilo. He added nuts, figs, and even chocolate to his artisanal pains d'épices. I brought a chunky (and heavy) slice home for everyone to try. It had flavorful dry figs in it.

I stood in line for what seemed like hours, but in reality more like 30 minutes, and ordered by gesturing with my hands the approximate width I wanted. The Pain d'épices man (I have sadly forgotten his name) asked me where I was from (clearly my accent gave me away) and when I said the United States, he asked me if I was travelling with the bread. It's as if he had a Spidey Sense, because he proceeded to give me detailed instructions about how to travel with the bread. He stared at me with a fixed gaze when he told me that under no circumstance could I unwrap the bread. I was to unwrap it only when until I was ready to eat it at my final destination. He knew he had to tell me that. It's his bread after all, and he was well aware of the inescapable temptation to want "goûter un tout petit peu" (to try just a tiny piece...)

I'm happy to report I did not cave, and unwrapped the tightly sealed hunk of break only after I had arrived in Boston.

Be proud. It was tough.

The final bread might be my mom's favorite, and definitely in my top ten breads of all time because of the fact that I make it! I like feeding people (okay, that sounds weird) but you get it. It's so rewarding to spend time making/baking something only to see that people enjoy the final product.

This is the Rosca de Reyes.

I use a recipe from a great cookbook my mom got a few years back entitled "Bread: The Breads of the World and How to Bake Them at Home" by Christine Ingram and Jennie Shapter. The recipe in here is based on a Spanish recipe, but from the first time I made it, I thought the flavor was spot on, and reminded me and my mom of course, of the Rosca in Mexico. In Mexico, the Rosca is made and served on January 6th for Epiphany, or Dia de los Reyes which translates to the Day of the Kings. Of all the recipes I have seen, this one- though not so simple- is quite straight-forward and comes out moist and quite tasty. A little plastic figurine is usually hidden inside it. The person who cuts a piece of the rosca containing the figurine gets to throw a party with tamales and atole later on for the "Día de la Candelaria" on the second of February (in France, it is known as La Chandeleur and they make lots of crêpes!) So, obviously it is not to one's best interest to find the figure. In my roscas, I substitute the figurine for a bean or even a piece of dried fruit like an apricot. Here are some photos of this year's Rosca de Reyes.

is premium cut of beef used for steaks. No grounding, no dicing. Just a nice filet.
The classic french combination of Steak Frites could not be done better than at restaurants specializing in the "contre-filet" cut of sirloin. Just a nice filet and fries (perfect for dipping in the sauce or the steak drippings.)

There is one particular restaurant that is known for producing a delicious version of the entrecote and only the entrecôte.
You guessed it, the restaurants using the name L'Entrecôte.

Here is the website for the particular group of these owned by the son of the creator/owner of original Le Relais de Venise- L'Entrecôte.
http://www.entrecote.fr/

Their concept is simple. Serve one recipe and perfect it so that every dish is served within that same high standard. Let me tell you, they have only one item on the menu, and all we had to choose was the "point de cuisson" (how you want your meat done) and drinks. They do the rest, and the secret is in the sauce. The server brought out a plate with half of our serving of the steak and fries. Then they place a silver platter on the table lit underneath by a candle to keep the rest of the meat warm for later. Genius.

Here are some photos we took of that nice meal. Oh yeah, they have sinfully good desserts too...