tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9156837853771711522024-02-18T20:51:21.425-08:00Sylvie Cooks in ParisAfter completing professional-level courses in Patisserie and Cuisine at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, I'm back home in Seattle, blending the lessons I learned with all that the Pacific Northwest has to offer -- fresh salmon and heirloom strawberries, organic antique roses and chive blossoms from my garden, lemon balm that sprang to life in my backyard and the Concord grapes draped along my arbor at the top of the terrace.
Voilà -- La Cuisine Pacifique!Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-6190837831060803992013-02-01T19:50:00.001-08:002013-02-01T19:50:13.153-08:00Birthday cakes for Peter H.
Some birthdays call for something special, especially when those birthdays happen to favorite people who are getting on in years. So several Saturdays ago, I made two French genoise for a gentleman whose creative life has given the world of religious music some rich and notable compositions. Each three-layer cake is infused with a cognac and coffee blend and garnished with toasted walnuts Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-75635652334148370612012-11-10T09:37:00.001-08:002012-11-10T10:55:45.014-08:00Gluten-free, French tart pastry
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font-family:"Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-32498923065855526472012-10-08T15:42:00.000-07:002012-10-17T13:30:46.011-07:00Black Japanese Rice Salad
My acupuncturist insists that darker-colored foods are best for us. More minerals, he says, in sweet potatoes instead of white potatoes, dark red beets instead of yellow beets, dark leafy greens instead of iceberg lettuce -- and dark rice instead of white rice.
Since he's helped heal me, I listen. And even though I love white rice -- it is what I was raised on, after all, I sometimes take the Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-88682599893515089862012-08-29T20:47:00.000-07:002012-08-29T20:50:32.714-07:00Fufu -- I'm told it's like crack
I may think I'm specializing in French-influenced food but life took me on a detour by way of the Middle East and Haiti this weekend. The husband of an acquaintance passed away and his widow wanted a reception menu featuring his fav foods. This was one cosmopolitan dude and his food choices reflected that. Dish number one -- Lamb Mishmisheya, is an Armenian/Turkish dish composed of lamb Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-27438225818372842092012-08-05T11:43:00.001-07:002013-08-03T16:59:27.383-07:00Tea for a summer day
Tea from the Garden
My friend, Virginia, created a lovely garden design for me. Through the years, I've followed it bit by bit and one feature, my raised bed garden in the front, pleases me no end. Except for the pesky lemon balm that keeps popping up, elbowing itself into spaces meant for better-behaved, purchased plants.
So I decided to eat it. Internauts say it's good for indigestion, Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-28629559056512902912012-02-16T22:11:00.000-08:002012-02-18T13:08:10.185-08:00And you've never heard of Aleppo?Well, neither had I, though I had heard of the pepper named after Syria's second largest city. So when I heard the name on the radio the other day, I thought of the people involved in the rebellion -- and, in an example of how the tragic relates to the mundane, I thought of the pepper I had purchased a few months ago for some forgotten recipe that was sitting in my pantry. Their pepper. Perhaps Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-38194859737657487932011-06-25T23:04:00.000-07:002011-06-25T23:04:53.550-07:00Strawberries and Roses, a Pavlova variationMy nice neighbors were clearly shocked when I told them I grew my Zepherine Drouhin roses so I could eat them. Last year I put them in lemonade; this year, they topped the Pavlova I took to a chef's gathering, eliciting many oohs and aahs from this presumably jaundiced group!
So...go back to the earlier post and make your Pavlova and Chantilly cream. Then use only the smallest (which are the Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-89711932739360129302011-06-16T10:01:00.000-07:002011-06-16T10:01:36.164-07:00Another backyard bonus -- Lemon Balm SorbetMy mother loved her lemon balm, crushing it between her arthritic fingers and sighing at the light, lemony scent it released. When I purchased my parents house and started fixing up the house and yard, I saw lemon balm as a weed, staking out a claim on one corner of the yard and using it as a base to claim the entire territory of the back yard.
Then I realized I could eat it. It could be used as Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-19759420916572465602011-05-26T22:11:00.000-07:002012-10-03T23:18:16.505-07:00A nearly free meal in the yard
Dandelions, growing in the front lawn. Spreading all over the back garden. It looked like like this year, they won. But I counterattacked -- I decided to eat them! Clipped the smaller, more tender leaves. Washed them, three times. Chopped out the middle vein. Sauteed them a minute or two in just a bit of bacon fat, garnished with white pepper, black pepper and just a touch of allspice. Placed onSylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-21298660100105928092010-10-08T16:14:00.000-07:002010-10-08T16:14:33.851-07:00French dinner for SixCatered a dinner for six people last night, something I sold at a charity auction to benefit a favorite group.
Here's what my clients enjoyed:
Quail eggs with flying fish caviar; Little Toasts with wild salmon and chevre; Sweet corn soup with creme fraiche and chive blossoms, accompanied by a savory rosemary shortbread; Beef Bourguignon with Jasmine Rice and Haricots Verts; Salad of curly endiveSylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-44109725260517583032010-07-27T19:30:00.000-07:002010-07-27T19:30:41.222-07:00Chinese Feast...if you want it!I'd like some feedback. It's a little hard sending all this effort into the ether and nary a comment back. So...if you ask, I'll post recipes for the rest of Chef Tony's Chinese Feast (besides the roast pork, which was already posted). The recipes are: Fresh Stir-fried Baby Bok Choy; Chinese Eggplant stir fry and Fabulous Shrimp and Tomato with Bell Peppers.
Want it? Ask for it!Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-50663866957888692262010-07-17T19:11:00.000-07:002010-07-17T19:11:25.345-07:00Coming Up! Authentic Chinese Roast Pork!Chef Tony is the guest chef in my house tonight, and he gave me directions for starting the marination on a piece of side pork I'm serving him and his charming wife, my friend Becky, tonight. Both of them grew up in Chinese restaurant families, and Chef Tony made his living cooking Chinese food for about 40 years.
"Your house will smell of this for the next five days," he promised. Great, I saidSylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-57019504770530661162010-07-14T22:59:00.000-07:002010-07-15T00:10:49.786-07:00A dessert for Bastille DayThe Bastille Day potluck of my French conversation group demanded something patriotic. What could be more appropriate than something in the colors of the French flag -- blue, white and red -- le bleu, blanc, rouge, as they call it.
And what could be easier than a Pavlova, a dessert created in honor of the great Russian ballet dancer. And, while the origins of this dessert are not French, but Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-18789591973690420732010-07-11T11:18:00.000-07:002010-07-11T12:10:32.736-07:00Sunny Summer Breakfast for a Gray July morningWell, I wasn't planning to post again so soon. But the leftover Créme Chantilly with orange Curaçao from my Friday dinner was whispering seductively from the fridge, so I had to figure out how to use it.
That's very French, by the way. Use everything -- the bones from the chicken go into stock (or into your freezer until you collect enough for stock), your stale bread crumbs are mixed up with Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-61728237401480340752010-07-10T08:23:00.000-07:002010-07-10T08:23:37.378-07:00Tasting Menu for a Summer DayMorning was breaking, and the sun was still low in the sky. But when I went out to the deck yesterday, the warmth that pierced me to my bones told me that the day would be a scorcher. The night before, forewarned by weather forecasts, I'd roasted a chicken and boiled some eggs. My friends were coming over for dinner, but the fridge was filled with snippets of this and that, hardly enough of any Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-58635803899523721592010-05-29T07:59:00.000-07:002010-05-29T07:59:17.767-07:00Sylvie Cooks in Rainy SeattleWhen I exclaimed to Parisians that I loved their weather, I was always greeted with blank looks or worse, regarded as if I were mentally deficient. But I was sincere. My hometown's weather generally consists of about six months of gray skies and scattered showers, a few months of gray skies mixed with occasional patches of sun, two months of generally sunny weather that quickly fades into a Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-89853995480447567442009-11-28T14:05:00.000-08:002009-11-28T14:05:50.175-08:00Turkey Day in ParisThere's a word for it in French: le mal du pays. Homesickness. It's a word I didn't have to look up until Thanksgiving, that very American holiday, arrived.
At home, I always host Thanksgiving. And, while I have come to accept the restrictions that tradition imposes upon the menu, I have always enjoyed the food, the company and the time to reflect on my many blessings. While my stateside family Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-83995043071990737182009-11-16T04:07:00.000-08:002009-11-16T04:45:17.334-08:00Amelie's NeighborA much overdue update. Yes, I ended up in Montmartre, in the outskirts of Paris where Utrillo, Toulouse-Lautrec, Picasso, Seurat and others once painted! (And where the film "Amelie" was shot. We share the same Metro stop!)
Once I put the call out for a wonderful landlord, I found one. R., the landlord's manager, adores cats and is clearly one of Samantha's favorite visitors. She will be thrilledSylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-76256675313983643932009-08-24T14:10:00.000-07:002009-08-24T14:10:33.993-07:00Calling all reasonable, kind landlords!Paris, Somewhere in the 15th arrondissement.
She looks up at me with huge, troubled eyes. She knows there's a problem somehow...and she knows that it involves her.
Samantha is only a cat, a little cat at that. Barely six pounds of sweetnesa and spunk and a cat who is more refined than most people. She is a delicate soul who follows commands issued in English and French and sits primly erect at Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-51419892397565374522009-08-06T08:27:00.000-07:002009-08-06T08:53:16.345-07:00Almost gone...with a place to go to. Sort ofThe call came at 6 a.m. this morning. S, the friend of a friend, had found a "little jewel" of an apartment for me in Paris! I had to let her know on the spot if I wanted it, sight unseen. Not even pictures. Close to Cordon Bleu. With a balcony. Clean. Good kitchen. Good price. I told her yes, if I could cancel the contract after I got there. She checked and phoned back. Yes, I could. I plunged Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-54974881877973108922009-07-26T08:05:00.000-07:002010-07-15T00:15:22.231-07:00Quick Dessert ooh-la-laThe days just prior to my departure scoot by so quickly and haphazardly that I couldn't grab onto one if I ran in circles. On the Paris end, it appears I may have an apartment; on this end, I work at a snail's pace against my four-page, single-spaced list of things to do.
Get fire insurance for the house, as my homeowners insurance will not cover a dwelling with a renter. Cancel my auto insuranceSylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-57931339780345607772009-06-25T08:25:00.000-07:002009-06-25T09:11:45.448-07:00Yummy crackers, French styleThis is the hardest time, I'm told: Before you go, before you know where you'll stay, what you'll take or what awaits you. Thank goodness I practice qi gong! Its quieting movements and meditations help guide me through the chaos to a place, if not of calm, of more calm than I'd otherwise have. Prayer helps, too, of course. And my brother has been my angel, helping at every step of the way. Thank Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-30106730873300445992009-05-17T13:45:00.000-07:002009-05-17T21:57:32.535-07:00Au revoir, CostcoAnyone who is looking for haute cuisine in this blog is to be pitied. The way I cook now is definitely not haute, except when I’ve got the cookbook open to someone else’s recipes. But if you’re looking for something quick, cheap and better tasting than a McDonald’s burger, you’ve found the spot!Preparations for Le Grand Voyage – which should result in my cooking rising at least to the level of Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-43464763703583722602009-05-10T21:56:00.000-07:002009-05-10T22:59:55.440-07:00TrepidationI remember the first time I saw Paris. It was sometime in the 1970s, when, as a flight attendant with the now-defunct airline, Pan Am, I dragged my weary self onto the tiniest elevator I had ever seen, in the lobby of a rundown Montmartre hotel. So small was this ancient contraption -- whose door was a see-through metal grate whose permeability was disconcerting -- that I could barely squeeze Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915683785377171152.post-37288967593957145002009-03-20T10:41:00.000-07:002009-03-23T09:03:41.794-07:00French Luxury on a Hamburger BudgetYes, I'm on a starving, soon-to-be-student budget, but I've decided that's no reason not to feel like I'm living well! So...dinner last night with Joan and Herman was an attempt to eat well and somewhat luxuriously, on a bare-bones budget. Here's our menu: Green Olive Pesto Cream on CroutonsPureed Lentil Soup (sorry I forgot to serve that, Joan and Herman!), garnished with chopped Italian Sylviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14781814419980077397noreply@blogger.com1