Catching up on Paris markets

And a recipe — or three — for tarte Tatin, too!

Bonjour! Bonjour!

Before I jump into life here in Paris, I want to send hugs of hope to all of you in America who are battling with the ravages of Helene and Milton. My heart is with you. And while I usually make a donation in the names of xoxo Dorie subscribers when I send out the recipe for Friendship Food, I sent a contribution this week to World Central Kitchen, whose workers are on the ground partnering with local groups to feed those left in need by the storm.

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Thankfully, not all weather has been devastating. I was awestruck by the images friends in Connecticut posted of the Northern Lights glowing brilliantly in their backyards. I was sad to miss it, but then, as though by some cosmic gift of compensation, I looked out my window and found a double rainbow.

Marché Saint Germain

We’ve moved a few times in the 25 years that we’ve lived in Paris — once the only thing our move entailed was pushing our furniture across the narrow landing from one apartment to the other — but we’ve always lived in Saint Germain des Prés, in the sixth arrondissement, and we’ve always shopped at the Marché Saint Germain, one of the few remaining permanent covered markets in the city. Over the years, the market has been bustling and great, not so bustling and not so great, and sometimes it’s been just so-so. For the past few years, the market has been in bustle-and-great mode — but through every phase that I can remember, Fromagerie Saunders has been there. My forever favorite cheese shop. Run by my forever favorite citizen of the arrondissement, Twiggy (her real name), and her terrific husband, Michel.  Even if I didn’t love cheese as much as I do, I’d buy some every day just to catch up with Twiggy. (Michael would go just to get a hug from her.) Who wouldn’t love someone who, on the spur of the moment, when I realized I’d run out of time to put together a proper apéro, made a gorgeous mini cheeseboard for us.

Also in the market these days is Poissonerie Viot, where they dry-age the fish in refrigerators, a Japanese technique that I’m seeing written about often in America. Their fish is stunning and their shellfish (not dry aged, but like all of their fish, never put on ice) is ready to be arranged and painted in a still life. I’ve never seen white sea urchins before. Have you?

If you go to the market, stop in for wine at Bacchus et Ariane and don’t miss the coffee at Café du Clown — David is truly a master. And the housemade sweets are good too — I love their caramelly madeleines and recently shared one with the fabulous Moko Hirayama, she of Mokonuts. You can’t buy bread or pastry in the market, but Maison Mulot is just across the street.

Tarte Tatin – Recipes Here, There and in Odd Places

I’m not really sure how to describe MONOPRIX, except to call it a kind of general store and to wish that it existed in America. They have clothes — there’s always a pile-up of shoppers in the section where they have baby and kid clothes (the stuff is adorable and affordable, a great combo); cosmetics and drugstore products; housewares, small electrics and cute tableware; wine, food and, in the store near me on rue des Rennes, a butcher and a fishmonger. Michael said it’s like an American supermarket with clothes, and maybe he’s right, but something about it is different.

MONOPRIX doesn’t give out samples the way some supermarkets do, but the butcher will give you advice on precisely how to cook whatever you buy and the fishmonger has his own ideas about how you should prepare his wares — one day he suggested a mustard sauce for my monkfish. The other day, as I pushed my cart into the produce section, I came upon a stand-up sign with directions for making tarte Tatin. Tarte Tatin! A recipe I struggled with for years — and one that can still make me cross my fingers when I have to turn it upside down, although I’ve come up with a trick for that (scroll down).

Here’s their recipe translated — I haven’t tried it, but …

The next day, when I was measuring out ingredients for one of the many crisps I’ve been making (more coming soon), I noticed that there’s a recipe for tarte Tatin on the back of the bag of sugar. Here’s that recipe — again, I haven’t tried it.

And then, along comes one of my favorite newsletters, Kitchen Projects, from the wildly talented Nicola Lamb, she whose new book, SIFT, will be out in America very soon. For this week, her deep dive is … tarte Tatin!

Three sightings — I’m calling it a trend.

If, like me, you’ve now got a craving for a tarte Tatin, I’ve got the recipe from Baking with Dorie for you (see below).

La Cuisine / The French Ingredient

A quick shout-out to my friend Jane Bertch, who founded La Cuisine, the most popular English-speaking cooking program in Paris! So many of you have told me you’ve been there - the Greenspan family’s been there, too. It’s a wonderful program and it’s marking a milestone anniversary: 15 years! Fifteen years is a triumph for any small business, but it’s an even bigger accomplishment in Paris, where it’s always been hard to keep a business going and where it was harder still during and after the pandemic. But to the delight of all of La Cuisine’s guests over the years, cooks who think of the school as their Paris kitchen, La Cuisine remained strong, so strong that there’s a sister school on the way. When I saw Jane last week, she showed me the space that will soon be transformed into more kitchens for more visiting cooks and bakers. That it’s right next door to the current school and that it has the same remarkable view over the Seine, seems miraculous. To read about how Jane, an American from Chicago, built La Cuisine in Paris — and how Paris (re)built Jane — grab a copy of The French Ingredient. And don’t miss the recent, wonderful segment about Jane and her school that aired on CBS Mornings. I loved it! I love Jane!

Figs and Bay Leaves

For a big chunk of my cooking life, I didn’t know that bay leaves were remarkable. I’d buy them in a jar from the supermarket and dutifully add them to soups and braises whenever a recipe told me to. And then I had a fresh bay leaf and “I got it!” They’re fragrant and they have a slight sharpness reminiscent of eucalyptus. (I’m laughing as I’m writing this because I don’t think I’ve ever tasted eucalyptus, but it came to mind immediately. I just Googled, “What does a fresh bay leaf taste like?” and eucalyptus was one of the answers. Ha!)

They’re herbal, of course, but bright. They’re also beautiful and perhaps elusive – it’s hard to find them fresh unless you grow them yourself or have a produce vendor who does. Me? I’m a lucky one — my friend, the cookbook author, Jennifer McLagan, has a bay tree in her Paris garden, and she’s been bringing me small bouquets every week (if I don’t use them all, I stand them up in a little jar, so they can be at hand as they dry - the ones in the picture are “in process”). So far, I’ve used them in Chicken in a Pot — I made the fennel and lemon version from Everyday Dorie and the bay was a perfect complement (I used 3 leaves); I used them in the chicken recipe that’s on the cover of Hot Sheet — I love that book; and used them three times in a slightly sweet-savory starter that I made with figs — figs are everywhere in the market now and so reasonably priced that I’ve been buying them daily; mostly I eat them out of hand, but I’ve made a fig crisp, a fig jam to serve with cheese (I added a bay leaf to that too) and this starter of warm figs (I made that dish three times!).

Here's what I did for the warm fig dish: I washed and dried the figs and then, with scissors, snipped a cross in the top of each one — I snipped just deep enough to open the figs a bit, but not to cut through them. I dotted the bottom of a pan with a little butter, drizzled over a little honey (very little) and seasoned that with cracked black pepper. I put the figs in the pan, tucked a bunch of bay leaves around the figs and stuffed a sliver of butter in each piece of fruit. I drizzled over a tiny bit more honey and cracked over some more pepper. One time I added a splash of white wine that was open and on the counter. I had the oven at 400 degrees F and slid the pan in for just 10 minutes — long enough to warm the figs and melt everything that was meltable, but not long enough to cook them. I served them on a cushion of Ricotta Spoonable and alongside a pouf of salad (I used mâche because I love it and can always get it here — a treat!). Oh, and I spooned a little of the pan juices over the figs, too. Did I finish the figs with olive oil? Hmmm - the hazards of playing around include not remembering what I do on a whim.

I’ll be cooking and baking and going out in Paris for a while longer and I’ve got lots more catching up to do. So much I want to share with you/So little time to get it all in. Bet you’re familiar with the problem. Keep in touch and let me know what you’re up to — I always love hearing from you.

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TARTE TATIN

• Adapted from Baking with Dorie [Amazon | Bookshop.org]

Photo: Mark Weinberg