Results tagged raspberries from David Lebovitz

Ballymaloe Cookery School

Darina Allen at Ballymaloe organic beetroot

When Darina Allen sat down to talk to us, a small group of food writers, it was just after her son and daughter in law, Rachel Allen. It was definitely nap time, and I put my camera in my bag along with my notepad, and contemplated having a little bit of a mental break while sit around in a kitchen, listening as Darina planned to tell us about her Ballymaloe Cookery School.

Well, that was the wrong idea. Because within seconds after Darina started talking, I scrambled around in my messenger bag for my notepad and pen because every word and phrase that came out of her mouth was note-worthy.

learn to cook squash

I’m not a reporter and can’t write very fast (thirty five years working in professional kitchens seem to be taking their toll), plus I’ll never be a journalist because I always get too involved in what I’m seeing or who I’m talking to rather than focusing on taking notes and zeroing in on facts and figures. But I tried to catch as much as I could as she spoke faster than I could jot things down.

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Rhubarb-Strawberry Jam Recipe

strawberries

Do you know what media training is? If you don’t, it’s when they teach people to behave on television and radio. They work with politicians, business executives, and, of course, in this day and age, they work with a lot people (and I mean, a lot…) that are involved in corporate and celebrity crisis control. But there’s a special group of media trainers that teach you how to cook on television, which is trickier than just sitting there getting grilled by Stephen Colbert, I’m sure of that.

Cooking on tv is much harder, because instead of just sitting there having a casual chat, you need to be fielding all sorts of goofy questions at the same time as measuring out and explaining fourteen different ingredients to the weatherman, wondering where that damn spatula is and how you’re going to fold egg whites without one, cursing yourself because you forgot to turn off your cell which is vibrating like mad in your back pocket, trying to get the name of the book you’re supposed to be promoting into the conversation when the seriously-skinny host only wants to talk about her diet, and watching out of the corner of your eye because the camera crew is impatiently waiting for you to finish so they can pounce on your brownies.

About ten years ago I had media training, a one-on-one weekend where it was just me and the media trainer—who basically yelled at me for 48 hours, non-stop.

In fact, I think he blew out my left eardrum.

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Chocolate Dipped White Chocolate-Berry Popsicles

Just dipped popsicle

Of course, I picked the hottest day of the summer to make popsicles. After the success of my Vietnamese coffee popsicles, I thought it’d be fun to try something dipped in chocolate.

In retrospect, am I insane?

chocolate enrobage

Our summer in Paris has been uneven; some cool days, and a few nice warm ones. Unfortunately the day I decided to make chocolate-dipped popsicles was the one day the temperature in my apartment shot up to 98F degrees (37C). But I’ll stop talking about the weather since there’s only one thing more boring that people talking about the weather, and that’s having to listen to someone recount their dreams for 15 minutes while you sit there and pretend to be interested.

I could never be a therapist—obviously.

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The Market in Le Neubourg

Just an hour or so from Paris is the medieval market at Le Neubourg where each wednesday locals crowd the market, choosing their fresh fruits and vegetable, regional raw-milk cheeses and just-churned golden-yellow crocks of butter, along with meats and hand-stuffed sausages from the jovial local bouchers, doling out crispy morsels of sautéed charcuterie.

It’s the kind of market where if you ask the poultry person for a quail, they’ll stick their hands in a box, there’ll be a flurry of activity within, the unsettling sound of ruffling feathers and squawking…then calm. A few seconds later, your dinner will emerge. The medieval market at Le Neubourg is the real thing and has existed for hundreds of years and some of the wares are not for the squeemish.

Nowadays you’ll find vendors selling crisp frites sprinkled liberally with crystals of sel de Guérande, cheery Arabic vendors hawking fragrant olive oil soaps, and rubber-booted fishermen presiding over piles of glistening mussels from nearby Brittany.

Being a baker, I think (and hope), has good karma. No animals have been harmed in the making of any of my desserts. So aside from the live birds and furry bunnies for sale, what wowed me of course was the abundance of berries on display. Judging from the sweet perfume of the raspberries and the plumpness of the currants (as well as the stained fingers of the farmers) they’d obviously just been picked.

sourcherries.jpg
Perky sour cherries, which they’ve dubbed for some reason ‘cerises anglaise’.
whitecherries.jpg
Unusual crispy white cherries, a variety I’ve never seen before.
gooseberries.jpg
Black currants, red gooseberries and loganberries, which I’ve never found in France. The vendor told me they were framboises américain (American raspberries).
currnats.jpg
Tiny white and black currants, called cassis. Black currants have heavy tannins when eaten raw, and but are unctuous and deeply-flavored when cooked. They’re widely used (and best known) for the syrupy crème de cassis.
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A jumble of juicy and vibrant summer melons.