On trend: cauliflower au gratin

It's all about the béchamel, baby + some archive recipes for chocolate lovers to love this Valentine's Day

Bonjour! Bonjour!

For the past week or so, I’ve felt like a conjurer — I’d mention someone’s name and they’d turn up in person or in my inbox. Something in the ether? A new power? Garden-variety coincidences? The latest, the first that had to do with food, happened over the weekend. We were eight people for dinner — I made a version of my favorite Hachis Parmentier — and down at the far end of the table I heard a friend mention cauliflower and another say, “I adore cauliflower au gratin — one made with a really nice béchamel.” Bingo! “Guess what,” I said, “next week’s newsletter’s got a recipe for that dish!” And then I texted Carrie Solomon — it’s her recipe that I’ve got for you today — and said: “Cauliflower au gratin is trending.” Yes, it’s an exaggeration, but I was so happy to see the dish having a little moment.

And while I’d happily have Carrie’s gratin at any moment — especially these days when Paris is damp and cold — for Valentine’s Day there’ll be something chocolate, too, although I’m not sure what yet. I’ll be looking through the xoxo Dorie archive for inspiration and you can too. For sure, Suzy’s Cake would be perfect for this upcoming day of love, but then, what about cookies? Or Julia Turshen’s made-in-a-flash chocolate and raspberry cake? Hmm. Scroll down for some suggestions.

Bohème Cooking

Get your copy of Bohème Cooking on Amazon, Barnes & Noble or Bookshop.org

I mentioned in last week’s cookbook round-up how I took a shine to Bohème Cooking: French Vegetarian Recipes, before I’d ever met its author, Carrie Solomon, and fell into an easy friendship with her. An American who came to Paris for school and stayed for food — and later love and a family — Carrie’s book is a treasury of recipes and the story of how she pieced together a life here, kitchen by kitchen. How she found herself working alongside Alain Passard, the chef of the Michelin-starred Paris restaurant Arpège and the man who created a sensation (it almost bordered on a scandal) when, for a while, he set aside meat and built his dishes exclusively from vegetables and fruits, many grown on his own farm. Learning from chefs, cooking with friends and for guests, being in kitchens big and small every day, Carrie wove her own lovely style and personal feel for food into a comforting way of cooking that we can all bring into our lives. That’s her spark of genius: Carrie’s food is at once sophisticated and homey, beautifully considered and as casual as a well-worn shawl. Funny, that the word “shawl” came to mind — the book, with its evocative photographs (Carrie shot them herself), tilts cozy and I love that.

Among the recipes that I’m looking forward to making while there’s still a serious chill in the air are Green Olive Tapenade (page 58, for those of you who have the book) — I love it for apéro and I’m going to use it to make Carrie’s Roast Cauliflower with Green Olive Tapenade (page 116 – and yes, we both like cauliflower); Flute Crackers with Cheese and Seeds (page 70); Parisian Mushroom Salad (page 103 — such a good play on a classic that’s often take for granted); Buckwheat Mountain Pasta (page 193 – so easy and on my list for next week); and the gorgeous Rustic Carrot Tarte with Burrata and Fennel Dukkah. See why I’m so happy to have this book!

Green Olive Tapenade // Roast Cauliflower with Green Olive Tapenade // Flute Crackers with Cheese and Seeds // Parisian Mushroom Salad // Rustic Carrot Tart with Burrata and Fennel Dukkah // Photos from BOHÈME COOKING

Au gratin: It’s all about the béchamel

Do you know what a béchamel is? Have you ever made one? Do you make it often? Do you make its American sister, “white sauce”? I feel as though you don’t hear much about béchamel these days — if it seems old fashioned, it’s because it is. It’s one of the Mother Sauces, named by Auguste Escoffier in the mid-nineteenth century. These are the classic sauces, the building blocks of French cuisine, which are used to make other sauces. Béchamel may be the easiest — it’s a mixture of roux (butter and flour) and milk. That’s it. For Carrie’s gratin, it’s seasoned with garlic, thyme and rosemary and mixed with lots of cheese, preferably Comté. Make it once and you’ll know how to make it always. And that’s a good thing, because you’ll want to make the sauce for any other au gratin dish, lasagna or even the famous French sandwich, the croque monsieur — think open-faced grilled cheese sandwich. For the cauliflower au gratin, it’s all about simple. Steam the cauliflower, make the béchamel, stir the two together, top with breadcrumbs and cheese, bake until bubbly, then dig in. If you can have this sitting in front of a fireplace, do — it’s as cozy as you imagine it to be.

Photos: Mary Dodd

A little backstory

Here are three words you’ll never hear a French cook say in public: “Storebought is fine.” That doesn’t mean that a French home cook won’t serve something storebought — it just means she’ll never admit it. One of the windows in my first Paris apartment faced a courtyard that we all had to walk through to get to the trash bins. If I were a betting woman, I’d have put money on the odds that at least once on a Saturday night, some elegantly dressed woman would click-clack her way across the cobblestones in high heels to ditch the boxes from the frozen food and readymades that were on that evening’s dinner-party menu. Even if a guest recognized the gougères from Picard, the wildly popular French frozen food chain, no one would ever mention it. And no host would ever fess up. Not voluntarily and, as I witnessed, not even when asked point blank (by an American visitor who didn’t know the “rule”). It’s a culinary white lie that everyone gets a pass on.

I thought of this because of the story Carrie tells about how her cauliflower au gratin was inspired by one her mother-in-law had served. As Carrie writes about her MIL in her introduction to the recipe, “She was a self-declared femme moderne and took satisfaction in the fact that she did little in the kitchen, so when she would invite us to Sunday lunch, I knew she was making an effort.” It was when Carrie asked for the recipe that she discovered that her mother-in-law’s au gratin wasn’t exactly homemade …

I find the story charming and familiar — I had a similar experience with a chocolate mousse. My friend Martine had served this perfect mousse a few times and each time she did, I’d ask for the recipe. Each time she’d smile and say that she’d get to me; it never came. And then, one evening, when we were having dinner at her house and it was just family, I asked again and again got the same answer. But just as we were saying goodbye, Martine said she had something for me and handed me a bar of Nestlé’s chocolate. I was puzzled until she turned the bar over and showed me the back label. There, at the top, was the recipe for the “Famous Chocolate Mousse.”

It’s not quite a case of “storebought is fine,” but almost. And moi? Whenever I make the mousse, I tell people where I got the recipe. You can plant the American in Paris, but you can’t teach her to fib, not when it comes to recipes. Since this mousse recipe includes 6 raw eggs, you might try this one from King Arthur instead — the eggs are cooked.

Other chocolate recipes to crush on (from the archives)

Chocolate + the baker's basics = a make-it-anytime cake

Cobbling together post-Tgiving weekend meals

Say it with cookies: Cocoa Hearts for Valentine's Day

An irresistible chocolate cookie recipe from Cookie Love

The best chocolate brownies recipe from Paul Hollywood

These Broadway-inspired "opera" cakes are delicious prima donnas

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Get cozy this week. Make the cauliflower dish, make something chocolate, maybe something creamy or gooey or rich, celebrate a day of love. Celebrate love every day. Hug as many people as you can. Help as many people as you can. Be safe and keep others safe. Be happy and share your happiness.

PS: Don’t miss Carrie Solomon in conversation with the terrific Sara Lieberman at Rizzoli Bookstore in NYC on February 20 at 6 pm.

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CAULIFLOWER AU GRATIN WITH HERBED BREAD CRUMBS

• Adapted from Bohème Cooking: French Vegetarian Recipes by Carrie Solomon

• Get at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Bookshop.org

• Click here for printable recipe

Cauliflower au Gratin as pictured in BOHÈME COOKING

GOOD TO KNOW BEFORE YOU START

The béchamel sauce: If this sauce reminds you of mac ‘n’ cheese, that’s because it’s what’s used to make the best mac ‘n’ cheese. It’s also the sauce that makes great lasagna. Learn to make it — it’s an easy one — and you’ll use it again and again. The béchamel for this gratin is seasoned with herbs and garlic, and while you can strain them out of the sauce, Carrie suggests blending them in. Do it! It will up the flavor of the entire dish.

The bread crumbs: Carrie’s recipe for bread crumbs (see below) makes more than you need for this gratin, so you can tuck them away to top other dishes. You can also, if you’d like, use a bit more of the crumbs on the cauliflower.

The cauliflower: The other day, Carrie wrote to tell me that lately she’s been blanching the cauliflower’s leaves and stems and tossing them into the gratin. “Their added texture and slight bitterness are surprisingly just right,” she said, adding, “If it’s a particularly leafy cauliflower (as they can be in France), I double the sauce.”

The pan: If you don’t have an 8-by-10-inch pan, use a 9-by-9-inch pan.

Makes 4 to 6 servings

INGREDIENTS

• 1 medium cauliflower

• 2 cups (500 ml) milk

• 2 tablespoons thyme (dry or — if fresh, chop) or XL Herbes de Provence (see below)

• 1 small garlic clove, minced

• 4 tablespoons butter

• 1/4 cup (30 grams) flour

• 1 1/3 cups (151 grams) grated Comté or white Cheddar cheese

• 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg, optional

• 1 1/2 teaspoons salt

• 1/4 cup (21 grams) Herbed Bread Crumbs (see above and below)

Photo: Mary Dodd

DIRECTIONS

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C).

Steam the cauliflower: Break apart the cauliflower florets into 2-inch (5 cm) pieces. Place a steamer basket in a medium pot with a fitted lid. Fill the bottom with boiling water until it barely touches the steam basket-as you want to be careful not to boil the cauliflower. Cover and steam for 5 minutes. Remove promptly to prevent overcooking.

Prepare the béchamel: Pour the milk into a saucepan with 1 tablespoon of the thyme and the garlic and bring to a low simmer for 8 minutes. Remove from the heat. If you like, you can blend the milk with an immersion blender to deepen the flavor, or leave it as is. [ed.: see above.] Melt the butter in a medium saucepan over low heat. Sprinkle in the flour and whisk together with the butter until combined. Whisking constantly, pour in the hot milk and continue to whisk until the sauce is smooth, 2-3 minutes. Turn off the heat and add the cheese, little by little in small handfuls, whisking it in each time before adding more. Whisk in the ground nutmeg and the salt. Add the cauliflower to the saucepan and stir to coat it completely in the sauce.

Pour the cauliflower into an 8-by-10-inch (20-by-25 cm) oven dish. [ed.: a 9-by-9-inch pan will work as well; see above.] Sprinkle with the rest of the cheese, the last tablespoon of herbs, and the bread crumbs. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until bubbly and golden. Let cool 5 minutes before serving.

Photos: Mary Dodd

XL HERBES DE PROVENCE

Here’s what Carrie says in her recipe for XL Herbes de Provence:

Herbes de Provence should taste like the last whiff of countryside air as you begin your drive home to the city, slightly tinged with regret for not staying another night. Just before I leave my boyfriend's house in the west part of France, I run my fingers through the thick rosemary bushes that line the footpath to his house. When he comes to see me in Paris, he knows just what to bring: not flowers, but sprigs of fresh rosemary. This herb is the star, in my opinion, of herbes de Provence.

Unfortunately, most jars of commercially made herbes de Provence are quite uninspired, and they resemble more dust than herb, even in France. So that is why I make my own, coarse and crunchy, XL style blend. You can either make it all at once, if you have all of the herbs at hand, or make it little by little depending on what you get your hands on. If your neighbor gifts you some sage, great, dry it in the oven and stash it away in an airtight container. Do the same with a bouquet of rosemary and sprigs of thyme. There isn't an exact recipe, it depends on what you like. My herbes de Provence revolves around rosemary, thyme, sage, and oregano. I usually add smaller quantities of fennel seeds, mint, and lavender-or sometimes none of these. I suggest you don't grind your herbs, but rather gently crumble them in your fingers, leaving large or even XL pieces here and there. If you find you prefer different flavors than what I provide in this recipe, simply adjust it according to your preference.

Makes 1 to 2 cups, depending on bunch size

INGREDIENTS

• 1 bunch thyme

• 1 bunch rosemary

• 1 bunch oregano

• 1 bunch sage

• 2 teaspoons sea salt, more to taste

• 1/2 bunch lavender flowers (optional)

• 1/2 bunch mint (optional)

• 2 tablespoons fennel seeds (optional)

DIRECTIONS

Wash and pat dry all your herbs at least a couple hours before starting the recipe. Remove any tough stems from the herbs, or anything that might be unpleasant in your mouth. Preheat the oven to 325°F (160°C). Place all the herbs-including the lavender, mint, and fennel, if using-on a large baking sheet in a single layer and bake for 20 minutes. Take the herbs out of the oven, sprinkle with the sea salt, and allow them to cool.

Transfer the herbes de Provence to a large bowl and stir carefully with your hands, breaking up about one-third of the herbs as you go. Season to taste and add a little more sea salt if necessary. Store in an airtight container for 1 to 2 months.

HERBED BREAD CRUMBS

Photos: Mary Dodd

Makes 1 to 2 cups

INGREDIENTS

• 1/2 pound (227 grams) dry bread, cut into cubes (about 2 cups)

• 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil

• 3 tablespoon fresh herbs or

• 1 1/2 tablespoons dried herbs (rosemary, thyme, oregano)

• 1/4 teaspoon minced garlic

• 1 teaspoon salt

DIRECTIONS

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Place the cubed bread on a sheet pan and bake for 6 to 8 minutes, until the bread is quite dry. Transfer to a food processor and blend into coarse bread crumbs. Add the olive oil, herbs, garlic, and salt and process again for another 30 seconds, or until the herbs and garlic are combined with the bread crumbs. Spread the bread crumbs on a dry baking sheet and bake for 6 minutes. Let cool. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 5 days.

NOTE: When making bread crumbs with especially dry bread, you might encounter difficulty getting the bread to break down. If so, place your bread in the oven at 350°F (180°C) for 5 minutes, let it cool for another 10 minutes, and then grind in the food processor