Standing alone in the 3 a.m. darkness of a petite Paris apartment that my friends and I had called home for a week, I awakened from a dream in which I was picnicking on a grassy knoll with an exploding basket of runny cheeses and potato salad a la Francaise—the silky, vinaigrette-dressed potato salad that rivals the mayo-clad counterpart we all know and love. I groggily shuffled over to our tiny fridge to find nothing but a small heap of strawberries quietly rotting from our neglect. (This wasn’t quite the Paris experience I had hoped for.)

As the sun’s rays finally flooded through our windows, Paris came alive: the collective hum of scooters and cars, the faint clack-clack-clacks of women deftly walking in heels on the patchy cobblestone streets. I wound a scarf around my neck and soon I was clack-clacking along with them, on a mission to recreate my dream picnic.

But my Paris rendezvous with potato salad a la Francaise was not to be. The city is full of distractions when you’re on a mission—all kinds of amusements that only the strong-willed can resist: the streetside crepe stands, the artsy store window displays neighboring populated cafes on almost every corner. By the time I had reached La Grande Epicerie, the mothership of gourmet shops in Paris, to purchase my ingredients, I already had inhaled a ham and cheese crepe, a slice of pear tart (washed down with un chocolat viennois, nonetheless), and two chocolate croissants (How do the French stay so thin?). Clearly, my willpower needs a little more work.

Now that I’m back in my kitchen where distractions are scarce, this potato salad dream is front and center. For French potato salad, boiled potatoes are sliced or quartered, dressed by a tangy vinaigrette studded with scallions, dill and tarragon. It’s served warm, or at room temperature, so the licorice flavors of tarragon and sharp acidity of white wine vinegar aren’t dulled by the cold. It’s a small pleasure when paired with a simple sandwich of the meat-and-cheese variety, and is especially luxurious when tucked into a picnic basket for a leisurely outdoor meal on the grass in your nearest park.

The following is a basic French potato salad that you can use as a blank canvas: add in some bacon bits for a smoky treat, or caramelize some yellow onions for a sweet note. I use baby Red Rose potatoes simply because they’re bite-sized and make for a lovely presentation, but you’ll be fine with regular-sized red potatoes, fingerlings or any other waxy variety.

FRENCH POTATO SALAD
4 to 6 side servings

• 1 1/2 pounds baby red potatoes (or any other waxy variety)
• 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
• 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
• 2 scallions, minced
• 2 teaspoons fresh dill, chopped
• 2 teaspoon fresh tarragon, minced
• 1/4 teaspoon garlic, minced
• Salt and pepper, to taste

PROCEDURE:

1. Scrub potatoes in cold water until clean. Remove any eyes or weird growth with a paring knife.
2. Fill a large pot with water over high heat and bring to a boil. Place potatoes in pot and cook, covered, until just tender, about 10 to 15 minutes. (If using larger potatoes, cook time will be a bit longer.) You’ll know they’re done when you can pierce a potato easily with a knife. Drain, and let cool while you make the vinaigrette.
3. Whisk olive oil, vinegar and Dijon mustard in a small bowl. Add in scallions, tarragon, dill and garlic. Set aside.
4. While still warm, slice potatoes into 1/4-inch discs, and place in a large serving bowl.
5. Pour vinaigrette over potatoes and toss to coat. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve immediately while warm, or cool to room temperature. Now go out and have a picnic under the sun.

The homely russet potato is not much to look at — especially when you compare it to the swirling architectural beauty of a head of Romanesco broccoli, or the seductive lipstick-red of a radish. But the russet’s allure lies beneath its skin: a creamy, unblemished flesh so versatile, it can transform into a bevy of appetizing eats using just about any cooking method invented.

Yes, these grubby little tubers clean up real nice.

One of my favorite russet makeovers is the galette, where potatoes take a cue from the Romanesco’s structural swirl. To make a galette, potatoes are cut into thin slices, then arranged in an overlapping spiral to form a circular tart. Between potato layers, you can use your imagination to add aromatics, herbs and cheese to flavor. I love the combination of onions, garlic and rosemary — it’s a fragrant classic that never disappoints in a potato dish. This combo also works well if you plan to serve the galette with meaty main courses like beef and lamb.

Now, it’s true that traditional galettes are prepared with a pastry crust, but this isn’t necessary when you’re using russet potatoes. When the galette is baked, the potato slices act as both crust and filling — the top and bottom layers crisp and brown into a crust all its own, while the galette’s center remains pillowy and light. After baking, the galette is inverted to showcase a smooth, even surface of golden potato goodness. (And I promise, inverting it is a lot easier than you may think.)

There are a few methods for making a potato galette, but the breeziest is baking with a nonstick cookie sheet. The sheet acts as a blank, wide canvas for you to create your masterpiece, and the Teflon coating keeps individual potato slices from sticking to the sheet when you eventually flip the galette over onto a serving plate.

This is also a recipe where you can brush up your knife skills. Making thin, wispy potato slices may take a bit of patience if you’re a newbie, but the end result is well worth it. And don’t worry if your slices are uneven or slivered. You can arrange slices to mask these imperfections – but only if you want. In my experience, the flawed, rustic galettes are the best ones.

ROSEMARY POTATO GALETTE
Yield: 6 to 8 servings

• 3 pounds Russet potatoes
• 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon pepper
• 1/4 cup chopped onion
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
• 1 1/2 teaspoons dried Rosemary

Procedure:
1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Scrub and peel the potatoes, then pat them dry with a paper towel. Slice the potatoes crosswise into super-thin slices, no thicker than 1/8-inch thick (the thinner, the better). Don’t worry if slices aren’t uniform – you can still use them.
2. Place potato slices into a large bowl with olive oil, salt and pepper. Toss with your hands to coat.
3. Starting in the middle of your nonstick cookie sheet, arrange potato slices into a circle, spiraling and overlapping potatoes until you have a circle about 10 inches in diameter.
4. Top this circle with half of the onion, garlic, Parmesan cheese and rosemary. Repeat Step 2, making another spiraling potato mass over the first one. Top with remaining onion, garlic, Parmesan cheese and rosemary.
5. Continue to add layers of spiraling potato slices until you have none left. Press down on the galette to help the potatoes settle into place. If you need to, you can tidy up here by removing slices or tucking some slices under others.
6. Bake galette for 45 minutes, or until the top is crispy and has a rich, golden brown color. Remove from oven and cool for 10 minutes.
7. When ready to serve, take a large plate and place it over the top of the galette. With one hand on the base of the plate and one hand on the underside of the cookie sheet, flip galette over, so that the cookie sheet is now on top. Remove the cookie sheet to reveal a uniform, golden spiral of potatoes. Cut the galette into wedges. You can serve it as-is, or as a side dish to a meaty main course.

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My apologies for the light posting today. I can barely keep my eyes open — let alone attempt to say something with wit — because of all the meds I’m on right now. All I can offer you is this salad, and if my memory serves me well, it was a good one at that.

This peppery salad is the last thing I could taste before a nasty sinus infection set in and rendered my taste buds useless. But it could have been worse. The last thing I ate could have been something awful, like Brussels sprouts or a bowl of frozen peas. I thank my lucky stars.

It’s been a few days and I still can’t taste anything, but the memory of this simple salad still lives on. I loved the crouton-sized roasted sweet potatoes, which lent a sunny vibe to an otherwise wintery salad. (Click on “Read the rest of this entry” for recipe.)

This is another one of those simple-is-best salads, where you can really taste the ingredients. Try it as a first course with a roast chicken, or as a full meal in itself. And reward yourself: don’t skimp on the cheese. You deserve it.

ARUGULA SALAD WITH SWEET POTATO CROUTONS
Yield: 4 servings

• 1 sweet potato
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 teaspoon crushed and dried rosemary
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• 4 cups packed arugula
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• Shaved Parmesan cheese

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Cut sweet potato into crouton-sized pieces and arrange on a parchment-lined baking sheet. toss with 1 tablespoon olive oil, rosemary, salt and pepper. Roast for 15 to 20 minutes, or until pieces are browned and tender. Remove from oven and set aside to cool.
2. In a large bowl, add arugula, olive oil, vinegar, salt and pepper. Toss mixture until all leaves are coated. Throw in roasted sweet potatoes, toss, and garnish with shaved Parmesan.

I have in my kitchen what one local chef tells me is “the kiss of death.”

“An electric range?” she asks. “How do you ever get anything done with one of those contraptions?”

Well, I told her, it’s getting easier. But it’s still an uphill battle.

Moving from my previous apartment meant leaving the luxury and reliable power of gas, where everything cooked evenly and the oven temperature was always spot-on. What a dream that was.

Now I’ve got this shifty nightmare with hardened coils in place of those glowing rings of blue flames.

Simple tasks, like using the broiler to brown things like garlic bread and Croque Monsieur, are super tricky. This broiler gets points for reaching temperature at the drop of a hat, yet it’s one hell of an overachiever, blackening everything in its path within a matter of seconds. How odd that the familiar scent of garlic, butter and bread turns to that other familiar odor of char and carbon the minute you turn your back to the stove. Kiss of death, indeed.

This is why I say thank goodness for blowtorches.

Though one can toast garlic bread without a broiler under normal oven settings, the drama of literally taking matters into your own hands is kind of therapeutic when your counter is lined with pans of blackened oblong shadows of the meal accompaniments they once were.

A blowtorch means angry flames shooting out of your fingertips to match the anger in your heart every time you pull a charred one from the broiler. It means victory.

So maybe I’m not skilled enough for the technology of an electric range yet, and maybe I have a bit of an inner pyro. But despite the kiss of death, I do have my garlic bread. (Click on “Read the rest of this entry” for recipe.)

Ample use of butter and cheese is what makes this accompaniment shine, so don’t be shy when using them. I like to use the French loaves over baguettes because you can cut them into generous pieces. You’ll get the best results if you use a pastry brush – butter will go on evenly and lightly, and you can add as much or as little as you like. If you don’t have one, crumble a hefty napkin or paper towel, dip it in the butter mixture and dab it on the bread. Work quickly though, so the paper towel won’t absorb too much of the butter.

SUPER GARLICKY PARMESAN BREAD
Yield: 1/2 loaf

• 1/2 loaf French loaf (5 to 6 inches diameter, 14 to 16 inches in length)
• 3/4 cup butter
• 8 cloves garlic, minced
• 3/4 cup Parmesan cheese, grated
• 1/2 teaspoon sea salt
• Fresh ground pepper, to taste

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees, preheat broiler or have a hardware-grade blowtorch at the ready. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil.
2. In a microwave-safe bowl, nuke butter until completely melted. Stir in minced garlic. With a pastry brush, brush butter and garlic mixture over bread. Sprinkle cheese over bread.
3. For oven: bake for 20 to 25 minutes, or until cheese is a light golden brown. For broiler: It should take no more than 5 minutes to achieve a golden-brown color. For blowtorch: Pass flame up slowly and down length of bread until you achieve desired toastiness. Hold flame about an inch away from bread.
4. Sprinkle sea salt and pepper over bread and serve hot.

– Cynthia Furey

Simple is just the way to go sometimes.

Like when you’ve spent the last few weeks in meetings with loan officers and real estate agents and all those other folks who are helping you realize a dream of buying a home. It’s too bad we can’t do all of this over dinner, which I’m sure would be better received than the hollow white lights of an office we should have left hours ago. Yes, we would all be happier if we met over dinner.

But because we can’t, I’ll have to compromise with simple dinners that can be made between meetings and work. Spring and summer are the best seasons for these types of speedy dishes mainly because of all the produce at your fingertips. And because everything tastes better in the summer, you can have bruschetta three nights in a row without risking taste-bud fatigue – which is one of the worst kinds of fatigue, in my opinion.

This magic bruschetta, as I’ve been calling it lately, seemed to pave the way for other areas of my life to behave with simplicity. The meetings waned; the paperwork finally done. I found a home. We completed the first day of Escrow yesterday, just in time for my 28th birthday today (this getting older part still hasn’t hit met yet). We get a three day weekend next week, and then I take off for Hawaii. I’ll knock on wood to be safe, but I don’t think that things can get any simpler (and more exciting!) than that.

And aside from being thisclose to owning a slice of the world, the forces at work gave me the best gift of all: my sanity has returned.

Or maybe that’s the result of all the really, really good wine I’ve been drinking lately.

In any case, both reds and whites pair well with this simple bruschetta – one so laden with garlic that it seems to set your mouth on fire. It’s a simple dinner, but that doesn’t mean it’s a simplistic one. (Click on “Read the rest of this entry” for recipe.)

GARLIC LOVERS’ TOMATO BRUSCHETTA
Yield: 2 to 3 servings

• French bread, cut into 1-inch slices
• Olive oil
• 1-1/4 cups Roma tomatoes, seeded and medium diced (about 3 to 4 tomatoes)
• 1/2 cup onion, small dice
• 6 basil leaves, chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1/2 teaspoon sea salt
• 1/4 teaspoon pepper

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Brush bread slices with olive oil and place on baking sheet. Bake for 10 minutes, or until bread is crispy and edges are browned. Set aside.
2. Combine tomatoes, onion, basil and garlic in a bowl and mix well. Toss with olive oil, sea salt and pepper. Serve on toast slices as a main course or snack.

– Cynthia Furey

There’s this story of a famous journalist who started his career at a daily paper in a town so tiny, that there was no real news to write about. I mean, we’re talking daily AP photos of squirrels on skis and a whole lotta bake sale stories.

But he refused to settle for those ho-hum tales. Instead, this guy would throw a dart at a city map that was hanging on his wall, and wherever the dart landed was where he was going to find his next story. It didn’t matter if the dart pierced the middle of an intersection or the corner of an open corn field. He would find a story.

Using that method, he met all kinds of interesting people, and equally interesting stories ensued. Now, he’s a big-deal reporter in a metropolitan city. Bake sales be damned.

I never learned the name of this guy – and that detail alone makes the tale scream fiction over fact. But real or not, it reminds me to think creatively when developing recipes: Pick an ingredient and develop the flavors around it, just as he picked a place and developed a story around it.

The tale also helps when choosing one recipe over another to try. But instead of using the dart method, I close my eyes and mix up all the cookbooks on my office floor, then point a finger at a page. There. Done.

It was a similar situation when I made this Gorgonzola and leek crème brulee. It was one in a handful of recipes that we testers at Leite’s Culinaria had to choose from in order to fulfill our monthly testing duties. I closed my eyes, and with finger poised at the computer screen, I made a selection.

Only, as luck would have it, my fat, sausage-of-a-finger landed on three recipes instead of one. Of course, I thought. Just when this dart method of choosing was proving to be foolproof, this happens.

But fat finger be damned. I made them all.

(Click on “Read the rest of this entry” for more)

This recipe isn’t up on Leite’s site just yet, but I will be sure to link to it when it is. In the meantime, I found the recipe on Epicurious’ site, (score!), and it follows below.

GORGONZOLA AND LEEK CRÈME BRULEE
Adapted from Epicurious (recipe from “Crème Brulee” by Lou Seibert Pappas)

Yield: 6 servings

• 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
• 2 medium-large leeks (about 12 ounces total), split lengthwise, washed thoroughly, and sliced crosswise
• 1 small yellow onion, chopped
• 5 large egg yolks
• 1 cup heavy (whipping) cream
• 1 cup half-and-half
• 5 ounces Gorgonzola cheese, crumbled
• 1 tablespoon minced fresh dill or tarragon, or 3/4 teaspoon dried dill or tarragon
• 3 tablespoons minced Italian parsley
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
• 24 teaspoons or 6 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese

PROCEDURE:

1. Preheat the oven to 275 degrees. In a medium saucepan, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the leeks and onion, and sauté for 7 to 10 minutes, or until soft.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk the egg yolks until they are a pale yellow. Whisk in the cream and half-and-half. Mix in the leeks, onions, Gorgonzola, dill or tarragon, parsley, salt, and pepper.
3. Place six standard-size flan dishes in a baking pan. Divide the custard mixture among the dishes. Pour warm water into the pan to come halfway up the sides of the dishes (to create a bain marie). Bake in the oven for 35 to 40 minutes, or until the center of each custard still jiggles slightly. Remove from the oven and lift the dishes from the hot water. Place the dishes on a baking sheet.
4. Evenly sprinkle 4 teaspoons grated cheese or 1 1/2 teaspoons sugar over each custard. Using a hand-held blowtorch, brown the cheese. Serve hot.

– Cynthia Furey

Hey all,

Here’s my latest Food 101 column, which appeared today in the print version of The Orange County Register. It’s not online on the paper’s site, so I’ve posted it below. Thanks for reading!

Potatoes to the rescue
The creamy, mashed dish is a smashing success with most any main course.

By CYNTHIA FUREY
Special to the Register

Stories of superheroes and sidekicks have lined the pages of comic books for ages. Though it’s true that quite of few of these superheroes perform their mighty deeds alone, many of them do have help. The same rings true for main courses and sides: Both have lined your dinner table for ages, mightily feeding your friends, family and dinner guests. But unlike superheroes, something seems amiss when a main course appears without accompaniment. Yes, that beef tenderloin is a glorious spectacle on its own, but it would benefit from an equally glorious supporting cast of characters to share the table with.

Enter mashed potatoes, one of those classic sidekicks that work with almost all protein dishes. Dress them up with Parmesan and mash them until they’re silky, and you can serve them with an elegant roast. Add cheddar with potatoes and their skins, and you’ve got a dish you can take to a picnic or barbecue. Every good cook should have at least one mashed potato recipe in their back pocket, at the ready for when you need to fill a vacant slot on your menu.

I call my own recipe Kitchen Sink Mashed Potatoes, because it seems there’s a little bit of everything in them. Now, I must warn you, these mashed potatoes aren’t for the faint of heart, or those who want to fit into their bathing suits this summer. They will stick to your like the Freshmen 15 you gained in college, like the clingy significant other you eventually managed to shake off. The red potatoes in this recipe merely act as a vehicle for butter, cheese and cream. (But in the recipe’s defense, that can also be said for many mashed potato recipes.)

What they do lack in modesty, however, they make up for in flavor. For one, there’s the aforementioned trifecta of ingredients that seem to make everything taste better, while also functioning in the recipe as texture helpers: Butter and heavy cream add creaminess and fluff, while Parmesan cheese gives them a bit of tang. There’s also enough garlic in them that there’s a chance you may still taste them next week. (If you’re not a garlic fan, by all means, scale back on the quantity called for below.) A touch of chicken stock beefs them up.

While the potatoes are cooling it helps to have a mise en place (a French phrase that literally translates to “everything in place” or “putting in place”). Grate your cheese, chop your garlic and measure all liquids and spices and place them around your work area within an arms distance. When the time comes for you to add these ingredients, you won’t have to stop what you’re doing to measure, pour or chop. It helps to have a mise en place with all recipes.

Kitchen Sink Mashed Potatoes call for grated Parmesan cheese, but you can substitute with other Italian hard cheeses like Asiago or Romano, or a blend of all of them. Mild and sharp cheddar cheese will also work well. Red rose potatoes are used because they can be boiled without breaking down (like their Russet siblings). It’s your choice to keep the potato skins on or off.

You can make them a day ahead of time, stored in refrigerator and reheated on the stove in a pot or in the microwave in a bowl. (Click on “Read the rest of this entry” for recipe)

KITCHEN SINK MASHED POTATOES
Yield: 6 servings

• 2 pounds red potatoes
• 1 stick (1/2 cup) unsalted butter
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 1/4 cup heavy cream
• 1/2 cup chicken stock or broth
• 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese
• 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/4 teaspoon onion powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• Pinch pepper
• Optional: chopped chives or curly-leaf parsley

Procedure:
1. Scrub potatoes under running water to get rid of dirt and potato eyes.
2. Fill a large pot with water and bring to a boil. Add potatoes one at a time and cook until tender, about 25 to 30 minutes. Strain pot in sink, and cool potatoes slightly before handling.
3. If desired, peel potatoes. (If they’re too hot to handle, run them under cold water right before peeling.) Return potatoes to pot, and return pot to stove. Add butter and garlic cloves. (The heat from potatoes will melt the butter.)
4. Turn burner on low heat, (this will keep potatoes warm while you’re adding cold ingredients). With a potato masher, mash butter and garlic cloves with potatoes until desired consistency – anywhere from really chunky to almost completely smooth.
5. Using a wooden spoon or whisk, stir in heavy cream and chicken stock. Add cheese, garlic and onion powders and salt. Continue stirring until cheese is melted. Add pepper to taste. Optional: Fold in or top with chopped chives or curly-leaf parsley. Serve immediately, or cool and place in refrigerator for up to 2 days.

– Cynthia Furey

In fourth grade summer school, I met a girl named Vanessa, the first person I had ever known with a Spanish accent.

The minute she opened her mouth, her foreign accent trumped my ordinary American one: she was instantly prettier, smarter and funnier than me – and boy, was I jealous. I hated her, yet I still had this strange urge to be her friend. (The term frenemy would be coined almost 20 years later to describe this phenomenon.)

Since I knew not a word of Spanish, I practiced speaking English the Spanish way – Vanessa’s way. “S” sounding words were replaced with a “th”: “Sour Patch Kids” became “Thour Path Kidth.” “Hey Vanessa, push me on the swing” became “Hey Vane-tha, puth me on the thwing.” My heavy American tongue proved useless in producing an enviable accent, and instead, words sounded swollen and lethargic. But as usual, Vanessa would flit about, speaking in that singsong voice of hers, and I swear if we had been in a cartoon there would have been a forest, birds and Disney animals hanging onto her every syllable.

But I would learn that her accent had an Achilles Heel. There was one word she couldn’t really say: “chips.” I laughed the hardest at her expense when she asked to share my bag of potato “ships.”

“Ships?” I would ask incredulously. “You mean chips. Say it again!”
“Ships.”
“Ahahahahahahahaha!” I cackled. “Chips!”
“Ships.”
“Ahahahahahahahaha!”

I tried to make her say the word in front of boys we liked in a desperate, fourth-grade attempt to embarrass her. (In addition to frenemy behavior, the second social lesson I learned that summer was that all was fair in love and war.)

But, as life would have it, my plan backfired. Boys still thought she was charming and lovely, despite the sound of her voice mistaking a popular snack food for a massive watercraft. Soon, everyone was eating ships. It was enough for me to finally give up sabotaging her – and it would be the last lesson I learned that summer: If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

I never saw Vanessa again, but I’d like to believe she’s maintained her charming accent and is still eating ships. In fact, if Vanessa were an avid cook who wanted to make her own ships, I wouldn’t expect them to be of the Russet variety. They would be familiar yet foreign. Like these sweet potato chips. They’re familiar enough, but with fresh rosemary plucked from a backyard shrub and a sprinkle of sea salt, they become elegant and extraordinary. Like her accent was.

Click on this link for the recipe, from Leite’s Culinaria.

– Cynthia Furey