All recipes

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chicons braisésBraised endives

Belgian endive, called chicon in Wallonia and witloof in Flanders, is grown in the dark around Brussels and eaten all winter, from November to March. Braised slowly in butter with a pinch of sugar and a squeeze of lemon, the pale heads turn golden, soft and gently caramelised, with only a whisper of their raw bitterness left. Serve them beside mashed potatoes and a fried egg, or as a side for a Sunday roast. The usual mistake is crowding the pan and boiling them in their own water, which leaves them grey and bitter. Chef's tip: lay the heads in a single layer and press a round of baking paper on top, so they steam gently and then brown in the butter once the juices cook off.

45 min

Belgian Sides

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Diabolo mentheMint syrup and lemonade

Ask anyone who grew up in France about diabolo menthe and they will remember sitting on a café terrace after school, or on holiday in Brittany or the Vendée, with a tall glass of startling green fizz and a straw. It is simply sirop de menthe, the sweet mint syrup sold in every French supermarket, topped up with limonade, which in France means a clear, lightly sweet, lemony fizzy drink. Grenadine makes a diabolo grenadine, lemon syrup a diabolo citron. It tastes cool, minty and sweet, like a liquid mint sweet, with a sharp sparkle. The common mistake is pouring the syrup on top of the lemonade: it sinks in a dense layer and you drink plain fizz followed by pure syrup. Put the syrup in the glass first and pour the lemonade down the side so it mixes as it rises. It is ready when the glass is an even mint-green from bottom to top and still fizzing hard. Café ratio is about one part syrup to seven parts lemonade. Chef's tip: for a homemade syrup, steep a big handful of fresh mint in hot sugar syrup for 30 minutes and strain; it will be pale gold-green rather than emerald, and tastes fresher.

3 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tisane de tilleul (linden tea)

Carpentras, at the foot of Mont Ventoux, has been France's linden capital for over a century. In late June the flowering lime trees are harvested by hand, the blossoms and their pale papery bracts dried in the shade, and in July the town's linden market sells them by the sack. In French homes a tisane de tilleul is what you drink after dinner, at the end of a long day or before bed, often with a slice of lemon or a little honey; Proust's famous madeleine was dipped in one. It tastes softly floral and sweet, a little like honey and fresh hay, with a smooth, almost silky feel. The common mistake is using fully boiling water and steeping for fifteen minutes: the tea turns dull brown and slightly astringent. Let the kettle settle to about 90 °C and steep for 5–7 minutes, covered. It is ready when the infusion is pale gold and smells of a summer garden. It is traditionally drunk to unwind; if you take regular medication, have a heart condition, or want to give it to young children, check with a doctor first. Chef's tip: keep the pot covered while it steeps so the scented oils stay in the tea instead of the kitchen.

10 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

French 75

The French 75 took its name from the light field gun of the First World War, because Parisian bartenders of the late 1910s and 1920s said it hit you just as hard. It has stayed a celebration drink in Paris and beyond: raised at weddings, New Year's Eve and long weekend brunches. It is for adults only and stronger than it tastes, so drink responsibly. A good one is bright and lemony with gin botanicals underneath, then a fine, persistent Champagne fizz that makes it feel light and dry. The common mistake is putting the sparkling wine in the shaker, which either blows the lid off or leaves the drink completely flat. Shake only the gin, lemon and syrup with ice, strain them into the glass and top with Champagne there. It is ready when the shaker is frosted, the foam has risen and fallen once, and a steady stream of small bubbles runs up the flute. Any dry traditional-method sparkling wine such as crémant works in place of Champagne; check the label if vegan matters. Chef's tip: twist the lemon peel over the glass, not into the shaker; the oil on the surface is the first thing you smell.

5 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mandi'o chyryryFried cassava with onion and egg

Mandi'o chyryry means 'fried cassava' in Guaraní, and it is what rural Paraguayan families make from yesterday's boiled mandi'o: chunks crushed and fried in a big pan with onion until crisp in places, then scrambled with eggs. It comes out for breakfast with cocido or for a quick supper, and costs next to nothing. Use sweet cassava, the kind sold in supermarkets. The mistake is stirring constantly, which turns it to mush; let the cassava sit and brown. Chef's tip: the best chyryry starts with cold, day-old boiled cassava, which fries crisper than freshly boiled.

45 min

Paraguayan Sides

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Citron presséFresh lemon drink

Order a citron pressé on a Paris terrace in July, or at a café in Nice after the beach, and the waiter brings a tall glass with an inch of freshly squeezed lemon juice, a carafe of iced water, a sugar bowl or a little jug of syrup and a long spoon. You build the drink yourself, as sharp or as sweet as you like, which is half the pleasure; French children learn to drink it with plenty of sugar, grown-ups often with almost none. It is bright, sour and cleansing, nothing like bottled lemonade, and best in the late afternoon heat. The common mistake is stirring granulated sugar straight into cold lemon water: it sinks and never dissolves, so the first sips are sour and the last a sludge. Dissolve the sugar in the juice first, or use a quick syrup. It is ready when the sugar has vanished, the drink tastes balanced to you and the glass is beaded with cold. Unwaxed lemons matter if you add a twist of peel. Chef's tip: pour the water over ice slowly and taste after half the carafe; most people find they need less water than they expect.

5 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Cocido quemadoBurnt sugar mate drink

Cocido is how Paraguay starts the day: in Asunción, in the villages of Guairá and Itapúa, and in school kitchens, a pot of burnt yerba is brewed and poured into cups with chipa, the cheesy cassava bread, or with a hard galleta. The old way is to drop a glowing piece of charcoal into a pot with yerba and sugar and stir until the sugar burns. On a home stove you caramelise them together in a dry pan instead, which is safer and gives the same smoky, toffee-like taste. The drink is clear amber-brown, with roasted, slightly bitter mate notes over burnt-sugar sweetness; with milk added it becomes cocido con leche, creamy and coffee-coloured. Yerba mate contains caffeine, so treat it like a cup of coffee. The common mistake is letting the sugar go black: it turns acrid and bitter. Pull it off the heat when the caramel is deep amber and the yerba smells toasted, not burnt. It is ready when the liquid is a clear dark amber and tastes of toffee and smoke. Chef's tip: the water will spit fiercely when it hits the hot caramel, so pour it in from the side, at arm's length.

14 min

Paraguayan Drinks

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Fondue de poireauxSlow-cooked leeks in butter

Fondue de poireaux is a winter side from northern France and Belgium, cooked in home kitchens from Picardy to Lille whenever leeks are cheap and sweet. Thinly sliced leeks are sweated very gently in butter with a lid on until they collapse into a soft, pale-green tangle, then finished with a spoon of cream and nutmeg. Serve it with roast fish, eggs, potatoes, or spooned onto toast as a light supper. The usual mistake is cooking over too high a heat, which browns the leeks and makes them bitter; they should never colour. Chef's tip: wash the sliced leeks in a bowl of water and lift them out with your hands, so the grit stays at the bottom.

35 min

French Sides

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Carottes VichyGlazed carrots

Carottes Vichy come from the spa town of Vichy in the Auvergne, where they were cooked in the local mineral water; today they are the classic French bistro and Sunday-lunch side, loved by children. Thin rounds of carrot simmer with butter, a little sugar and salt in just enough water, so that when the carrots are tender the water has boiled down to a shiny glaze. Serve with roast chicken, an omelette or lentils. The usual mistake is using too much water, so you must drain away the flavour; it should just cover the carrots. Chef's tip: a pinch of bicarbonate of soda in the water copies Vichy's alkaline water and helps the carrots turn sweet and bright.

30 min

French Sides

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TereréIced yerba mate

In Asunción the hottest part of the day stops for tereré: a horn or cup packed with yerba mate, topped up again and again with ice water infused with crushed herbs, and passed round the group through a metal straw. It was recognised by UNESCO as part of Paraguay's cultural heritage, and the herbs (yuyos) change with the season and the drinker's mood. Yerba mate contains caffeine, so it isn't one for small children. The common mistake is pouring water straight into loose yerba, which then clogs the straw; tilt the yerba to one side first. Chef's tip: for tereré ruso, swap the water for cold orange or grapefruit juice.

10 min

Paraguayan Drinks

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Postre MassiniCustard sponge with burnt sugar top

Montevideo's birthday cake of choice since the early twentieth century, the Massini is two thin layers of sponge sandwiching a thick filling of whipped cream folded with egg-yolk custard, crowned with a thin glassy crust of torched yolk and sugar. Bakeries across Uruguay sell it on Sundays. Traditional versions sometimes add a sweet fortified wine to the custard; this one is alcohol-free. The custard is cooked to a safe 71 °C. The common mistake is assembling with warm custard, which melts the cream into a puddle. Chef's tip: if you don't have a blowtorch, put the sugared top under a very hot grill for a minute and watch it closely.

80 min

Paraguayan Baking

by KrazyBadal 0 views

LukkenThin crisp waffle biscuits

Lukken are paper-thin, crisp waffle biscuits baked in West Flanders, around Kortrijk and Roeselare, in the days before New Year, when children go from house to house wishing neighbours a happy new year and are rewarded with them. They are made in a special iron that presses a fine pattern; a pizzelle iron or a thin-waffle (gaufrette) iron works. A common mistake is using too much batter, which makes them thick and soft. Chef's tip: use only a teaspoon of dough per biscuit and roll them while warm if you like, for 'rolled lukken'.

60 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Couque de DinantHard honey biscuit

Couques de Dinant are the famously hard honey biscuits of Dinant on the Meuse, made only of flour and honey, pressed into carved wooden moulds showing castles, animals and the town's skyline, and baked so hot that the honey caramelises into a very hard, glossy biscuit. Dinant bakers say they keep for years; locals let a piece melt slowly in the mouth rather than biting. Honey is traditional; golden syrup makes a vegan version. A common mistake is a soft dough; it must be stiff enough to hold the mould's detail. Chef's tip: dust the mould with flour, press hard and tap the dough out sharply.

60 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

CramiqueRaisin brioche

Cramique is the Sunday breakfast loaf of Brussels and Wallonia: a soft, golden brioche packed with raisins, bought from the bakery on Sunday morning and sliced thickly with salted butter. Its sister, craquelin, swaps the raisins for pearl sugar. A common mistake is adding the raisins at the start of kneading, which tears the gluten and turns the dough grey. Chef's tip: soak the raisins in warm tea for 20 minutes, then knead them in only at the end, gently.

75 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KletskoppenLacy almond biscuits

Kletskoppen are the lacy, crackly biscuits of Bruges, sold in the old city's bakeries and served with coffee in the cafés around the Markt: brown sugar, butter and chopped almonds with very little flour (this version uses none), baked until they spread into thin, see-through, toffee-flavoured lace. A common mistake is putting them too close on the tray; they spread enormously and join up. Chef's tip: let them cool for a minute on the tray before lifting, and drape them over a rolling pin while still warm if you want curved tuiles.

30 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

CougnouChristmas brioche

Cougnou, also called cougnolle or bommetje, is the Christmas bread of Wallonia, given to children on Christmas morning: a soft brioche shaped like the infant Jesus in swaddling clothes, with a little clay or sugar medallion pressed into the middle, eaten with hot chocolate. Bakeries in Namur and Charleroi make them from early December. A common mistake is shaping them too small, which dries them in the oven. Chef's tip: make three balls, one large for the body and two small for the head and feet, pressed together tightly so they bake as one.

65 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Maroilles tart

The Avesnois, the green, hedged corner of northern France near the Belgian border, makes Maroilles, a square, orange-rinded cheese with a powerful smell and a surprisingly gentle, creamy taste. Its most famous use is this tart, sold hot in slices at markets and fairs in Maubeuge and Avesnes-sur-Helpe and eaten with a salad and a cold drink. A yeasted bread-dough base is topped with slices of Maroilles and a little crème fraîche and baked until bubbling. Maroilles is made with animal rennet; a vegetarian washed-rind cheese gives the same melting richness. Chef's tip: leave the rind on; it carries much of the flavour and turns golden in the oven.

50 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Flamiche aux poireauxLeek and cream tart

Flamiche means 'cake' in old Flemish, and in Picardy, around Amiens and Abbeville, it is a tart of leeks melted slowly in butter and set in eggs and cream, baked in a crisp pastry case and sometimes covered with a pastry lid. The leeks from the market gardens (hortillonnages) of Amiens are famous, and flamiche is served warm as a starter or as a supper with green salad, especially from autumn to spring. The leeks must be cooked until soft and sweet, never browned. Chef's tip: squeeze the cooked leeks in a sieve before adding the custard; any water left in them stops the filling from setting and soaks the pastry.

90 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mirabelle plum tart

Lorraine grows most of the world's mirabelles, small golden plums with a blush of red that ripen for only a few weeks from mid-August, when Metz holds its Mirabelle festival and every pâtisserie in Nancy fills its window with this tart. The plums are halved and packed tightly into a crisp shortcrust, sometimes over a thin layer of almond or semolina to soak up the juice, and they bake into a jammy, honey-sweet layer. Families eat it warm or cold for Sunday dessert or at four-o'clock goûter. Out of season, use small yellow plums or halved apricots. Chef's tip: stand the halves upright and overlapping, cut side up; they shrink as they bake, and a tight layer stops the tart looking bare.

75 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Macarons parisiensChocolate ganache macarons

The smooth, round macaron with its ruffled 'foot', sandwiched around a ganache, is a Paris creation of the early 1900s, and the city's tearooms still sell them in pastel rows for gifts, weddings and afternoon tea. They are made from just ground almonds, icing sugar and egg whites, but they reward care: weigh everything, age the whites if you can, and rest the piped shells until a skin forms. This recipe uses a simple dark chocolate ganache; once you have the method, change the filling to raspberry jam or lemon curd. Chef's tip: bang the tray firmly on the worktop three times after piping; it knocks out air bubbles that would crack the tops.

90 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

AligotCheesy garlic mashed potato

High on the Aubrac plateau, where Aveyron, Cantal and Lozère meet, aligot was once the meal monks gave to pilgrims on the road to Santiago. Today it is beaten in huge copper pans at village fêtes and buron farm restaurants around Laguiole, then lifted high on a wooden spoon in long, glossy ribbons before it is served beside sausages or, for a vegetarian table, a big green salad and roasted mushrooms. It is a mash of floury potato, butter, cream and garlic, worked with young tomme fraîche until it stretches like mozzarella. Tomme fraîche is made with animal rennet; a mix of vegetarian mozzarella and a vegetarian mild cheddar gives a similar stretch. Chef's tip: keep beating in a figure of eight once the cheese goes in; the stretch only comes with steady work.

50 min

French Sides

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Opéra cakeAlmond coffee chocolate layer cake

Named after the Palais Garnier opera house, the opéra is the elegant rectangle in the window of every grand Paris pâtisserie: thin layers of almond joconde sponge soaked in coffee syrup, coffee buttercream and dark chocolate ganache, finished with a mirror-smooth chocolate glaze. Parisians buy it for birthdays and dinner parties, cut into neat slices. It takes an afternoon but each part is simple, and it is easier made a day ahead. You need a 30 × 40 cm baking tray. The coffee gives a grown-up flavour, so use decaf for children. Chef's tip: trim the sides with a hot, dry knife after chilling; wiping the blade between cuts gives the clean stripes that make an opéra.

110 min

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Gâteau de SavoieAiry sponge cake

Legend says a cook at the court of the Counts of Savoy, in Chambéry, invented this sponge in the fourteenth century to impress a visiting emperor, and Savoyard families still bake it in a tall fluted mould for birthdays and Sunday tea. It has no butter and very little flour, using potato starch for a crumb so light it almost dissolves, and it is eaten plain with a dusting of icing sugar, or with jam, fruit compote or a cup of hot chocolate. Chef's tip: fold the whites in three goes with a large metal spoon, cutting down through the middle; you are keeping in the air that makes it rise.

60 min