It’s the story of a soup that connected us to a place and a moment. Between earth and sea.

About a month ago, Lulu, P. and his parents and I traveled to Block Island. We’d decided of the trip quickly, choosing the small island off the coast of Rhode Island as the place to meet. Together, we wanted to spend a short week to celebrate the end of summer.

We rented a lovely house on the west side of the island. On top of a hill. Overlooking the ocean. Which, as it may read, sounds like we’d found the perfect getaway.

We had. It was perfect in every meaning of the word. It was délicieusement doux et sucré.

Our days were slow in the manner time passes on a small island. Refreshing in just the right amount.

When we spent time inside, we cooked and played with Lulu. Once outside, we wandered the winding roads, admiring meadows and ponds, before eventually finding one of the many gorgeous beaches of the island where we built stone piles and drew our names in the sand with wooden sticks. Lulu liked to imagine she was Ladybug Girl at the Beach.

I really love Block Island.

We had a terrific family time and ate lovely homey dishes.

Somehow, soup was at the center of this. Somehow, these trips always inspire me to prepare soup.

This carrot soup happened there. Or at least I started thinking about it after my mother-in-law and I bought clams one night for dinner.

I remembered the curried squash and red lentil soup I had prepared with clams when our friends Pierre and Akiko visited. I wanted something just like that. But something new too. I wanted that the soup celebrated the connection I felt on the island. Between earth and sea. With the transition into the new season.

“Carrots!”

“What?”

“Carrots. It’s a carrot soup,” I told P. on the first night when I brought the soup to the table.

“It’s amazing!” he said after he tasted it. “So elegant and surprising. Yet so down-to-earth too.” I liked that he had found the words to describe what I couldn’t.

I had prepared the soup with carrots, orange and sweet potato, with aromas of ginger and coriander.

“What’s this?” Lulu asked when she saw me drizzle truffle-flavored oil on top of the steaming soup.

“Do you want some?”

“Oui s’il te plait.”

I smiled. I liked that she asked for it.

“Do you like truffle oil? I said as I watched her dip a piece of toasted baguette in the soup.

“Oui,” she said as she dipped more bread in.

Who wouldn’t like it? I am a fan of finishing my soups (like this sunchoke soup), with a drizzle of truffle oil.

Right then, I understood that this soup was becoming a favorite.

The snow melted within two days, leaving room to fall again. A gorgeously sunny one on top.

We were glad that we’d only had a tease of winter. We were not ready. I was not ready to leave some of my favorite vegetables and salads behind. In fact, despite the fact that we are between seasons and soon enough homegrown vegetables will become scarce, these days, I am really inspired to cook.

See? I’ve been really busy making things in the kitchen. Trying new things. Revisiting old ones. And loving every piece of it. Here are a few snapshots from what happened.

Today I even found Romanesco.

I could not help but let a few words of excitement escape from between my lips when I spotted them, gloriously bundled up inside a woven basket in a corner of the local farm stand. They looked so inviting that I wanted to pick one after the other until the basket was empty and I had them all.

I wanted to store them the way squirrels sneak in to put nuts aside. So that they’d stay and keep me company during the upcoming wintry months.

“Will you sell more Romanesco over the next weeks?” I asked the young girl at the cash register.

She looked surprised, with a I-don’t-know-why-do-you-ask expression on her face.

I didn’t wait for her answer. She didn’t know anyhow. And on my end, I knew I’d come back to the store to check regularly.

When I returned home, it was almost eleven thirty and I was feeling hungry. The radio was playing a Jane Birkin’s song while P. was working in the office.

“Are you hungry?” I asked him from the kitchen.

I wanted him to be, because I had a great lunch idea in my head.

I imagined a dish of pasta loaded with greens–something delicious and comfy to nourish our big appetite.

Linguine, I thought. Lulu will clap in her hands at the sight of pasta. I knew she would.

So it happened. I cooked linguine and then I blanched peas and baby lima beans and zucchini with my Romanesco florets. I sauteed scampi and prepared a light white sauce with a dash of Vermouth and lots of fresh herbs.

It was a lunch quick to fix. Loaded with flavor and contrasting textures. Inviting!

We loved it.

The next day, after a walk to the botanical garden in search of pretty leaves, I decided to experiment more and baked a Romanesco gratin–and a chocolate and pear clafoutis too (you’ll want to taste this one). Which made us equally happy. Hungry for more.

I was assured that I’d want to cook these dishes again this week. And hopefully the next.

As long as I can find Romanesco.

Fingers crossed, oui?

Ah fall, I really like your colors and flavors.

A lot.

Why can I have neglected to visit Cape Cod more often? I wondered.

I didn’t expect that Cape Cod, the Cape as we Bostonians call it, would look so beautiful with its near-to empty beaches and warm September sunlight.

But it did.

I found out this last week when P., his father, Lulu and I drove to Truro near Cape Cod National Seashore where we spent five days to celebrate the end of summer. P.’s mother was supposed to come too, but an event kept her in Ireland, so eventually she could not come. For a while, we were hesitant as to whether we’d go. But in the end, we decided that the four of us would make the trip anyhow.

We didn’t regret once. As to Lulu, she was simply happy to have her grandpa all for herself.

Of course, in the thirteen years I’ve lived in Boston, I’ve visited the Cape on many occasions. But the truth is that I somehow always avoided to come, finding excuses like “It’s too hot“, “It’s too busy” or “I just cannot deal with US 93 and Route 6 traffic to get there“. Each time, I dreaded Cape Cod’s summer crowd and its touristy side, despite the fact that it was right there, at my doorstep.

But this time…how could I have guessed that it’d be different? And that the five days we spent in our rental house would charm me in such an unexpected way.

Between Wednesday and Sunday, we flew many kites on beaches near Wellfleet and Truro, trying a new one every time. Finding each one always almost empty.

We built sand castles, drew faces on the sun-warmed blond sand and wore hoodies, excited to feel cooler temperatures announcing fall. We watched small crabs in the marsh near Uncle Tim’s bridge and chatted with a friendly fisherwoman who told us interesting fishing stories about bluefish and seabass. We saw seals and watched the ocean surf. We ran on the beach and then when we were too tired to continue, we skipped stones. We made 60-piece puzzles with Lulu and told her about crickets singing loudly every night. We visited Provincetown Saturday farmer’s market and Truro vineyards.

And between every single one of our activities, we ate very well.

“It’s weird,” I told Eddie, my father-in-law, one day as we were waiting for our fish tacos at The Juice. “It almost feels as if we could be somewhere in Europe, doesn’t it?”

“So true!” he exclaimed, perhaps thinking about Ireland where he grew up. We couldn’t explain exactly what it was but the feeling was perceptible. We could all feel it.

We were hungry for seafood, and felt lucky to find it so fresh and tasty everywhere we stopped for lunch.

One day, I chose mussels and the following day, an order of fish tacos and lobster rolls were the foods that pleased our bellies. At the fish market in Wellfleet, I bought lobster and little necks clams that I cooked in a coconut milk and white wine sauce to serve with spaghetti and zucchini for dinner one evening.

“What are you making?” Eddie asked on our last night when he saw that I was busy peeling a few peaches before slicing them finely.

“Not sure,” I said. “Dessert.”

“Of course! ” he went on, smiling.

We always have dessert, no matter where we are. And how simple it is.

“Just something nice and simple to use up ingredients before we leave.”

“How do you call it?”

“Not sure either. A gratin clafoutis maybe?” I responded hesitantly, not certain which word was the right one to use.

“Glad you came?” I went on.

He smiled again.

We were all so glad to have come.

I’d fallen in love with the beauty Cape Cod offers during the low season.

I was impressed.

I was about to let you know about Heidi’s new beautiful cookbook–I know you all know of it already–and then I received two emails this morning from a Saveur‘s editor, notifying me that La Tartine Gourmande was nominated in two categories in their 2011 Best Food Blog Awards:

• Best Food Photo (Follow the link here)

  

  Poisson d’Avril
  April 1st 2011
• Best Original Baking and Desserts Recipe (Follow the link here)

  

  Spiced pumpkin pots de crème with sautéed apples and pistachios
  November 2nd 2010

I am so honored!

Merci !

The selection of blogs nominated is just delicious. I was so pleased to hear about new names, and rediscover old ones.

You can cast your votes by visiting Saveur.com. You will need to create an account if you don’t already have one. Voting is open until May 12, with the winners revealed on May 17.

An editor at Saveur also mentioned this morning that if you are a Non-US resident, you can still vote. Right now, there’s an unfortunate glitch in their system but they are working on fixing it. All you have to do is select USA or Canada as your country, and proceed from there. Once the system is updated, you may go in and modify your profile if you wish.

Thank you for your support if you end up deciding to vote for my blog.

It’s not a joke.

We woke up this morning to three inches of snow. And despite the fact that snow is not going to be welcomed in April, especially as I had starting gardening, I found this white coat covering the hill, garden and roofs of the houses around us beautiful to look at. It was quiet.

Peaceful.

“We had more than one foot of snow on April 1st when I moved to Boston in 97″, P. reminded me, as he was looking though the window. New England is a region where the seasons are full of surprises. And that’s also what makes the place so special.

In the meantime, what I had kept for you was a red snapper recipe. The kind of recipe you like to have handy when you are short with time. Very simple. Fresh and delicious. I cooked it en papillote with herbs, lemon, olive oil and fennel. We enjoyed it with riz pilaf and salad on the side.

And vanilla custard to finish.

Our everyday food, at its best.

Poisson d’avril, or not, I wish you a bon weekend. I hope for the rebirth of Spring next week.

I cook risotto every week. Sometimes the dish is hearty. Sometimes I prefer to turn it into an elegant and dressed-up meal. But always, risotto flows naturally, like a play well rehearsed.

It’s a good thing.

It’s also very convenient at the moment for various life events. One, I am completely absorbed by the revisions of my cookbook. Two, when I draw, play legos or read books with Lulu, I make simpler foods. And three, I am cooking in a tiny kitchen at the moment while our kitchen–in the new bigger home–is being completely remodeled. And oh! let me add how excited I am to see the final result soon. A new kitchen, imagine that! There’s still a lot of work, and a good number of weeks ahead, but when the project is done, it will be the promise of a beautiful serene place where I’ll be able to cook even more.

Better. I have the hope.

I cooked this risotto once when we were in Belle-Île en mer. I had purchased outstanding langoustines and coquilles St Jacques (with the coral, you know, that pretty deep orange piece that is part of a scallop) that were so pretty that I wanted them to stand out on our plate inside a dish of warm pearls of goodness.

Risotto allowed for that to happen.

So here you are. I am sharing the recipe with you tonight. I won’t chat for too long either. I hope you don’t mind. Because as rare as it happens, I am sick with a bad cold and I need to get some more rest.

You know, too, that risotto helps in situation of that nature. Right?

Comfy food that soothes the aching body and takes the headache away.

Really.

La recette en français suivra…merci de votre patience.

I’ve been meaning to tell you about my weakness for anything involving potatoes.

Growing up, my mother prepared râpés de pommes de terre (grated potatoes cooked like small galettes, close to latkes) perhaps once a week, which invariably made my brother and me extremely happy. Because it was food that involved potatoes, and because hers were deliciously crispy, always cooked to perfection. She liked to serve them with a dollop of silky fromage blanc, a sprinkle of sea salt and freshly chopped chives, and a side lettuce tossed in a vinaigrette with piquant. That was dinner during a wintry week day: simple and gorgeous in every way.

I’ve been a lover of that type of comforting food since then. During the winter, that’s what we have for dinner at least once a week.

Sometimes my râpés will make a casual meal, just as we used to eat them at home, and at other times, they’ll dress up our meal, as I prefer to serve them as an appetizer, topped with crème fraiche or mascarpone, a slice of tasty smoked salmon and pear.

While my mother never uses eggs to prepare hers, I use a few — like in this recipe. I also find root vegetables delicious in this dish, and often make new variants following the produce seasonality and my fancy. Here, you’ll see that I used white sweet potato, parsnip and carrot. You’ll thank me for it! It’s a real boost of flavors and vitamins in your plate.

When I prepared these a few days ago, I remember looking at Lulu when she and I sat at the table for lunch. “Je suis sûre qu’elle va aimer,” (I’m sure she’ll love that) I couldn’t help but think.

That didn’t fail.

She took a small piece in one hand and looked at it cautiously at first, as she always does. Then she grabbed another piece delicately with the other hand, before bringing the food to her mouth and looking at me with a smile in her eyes.

It’s a funny thing to admit but the fact that she ate the râpé enthusiastically really made me happy. Enjoying these just like her papa and her maman.

Tomorrow is Christmas. It’s the day when many of you, and us too, will celebrate with family and friends. For us, it’s also the day when last year, our little Lulu was born. The meaning of Christmas has completely changed since then; life has never tasted as sweet since our daughter has been with us.

She is truly the best Christmas gift that we will ever have. What an amazingly rich journey this year will have been! I wonder what 2010 will keep ahead…

Have a wonderful celebration! My best wishes for this end of year and for the next.

And many thanks for being such a fantastic crowd on the other side of the screen! Between the writing of my book and taking care of Lulu, I might not have been as present, but know that every email and comment you wrote was special and meant a lot. Merci !

Joyeux Noël et bonne année à tous !

On Sundays, we like to find a nice spot for a walk. A special one that allows us to appreciate the beauty of the season that is passing. Yesterday, this is where it took us. We saw cows and sheep and goats and chicken and pigs, and when we returned home, I baked and made a salmon poached in olive oil dinner while Lulu took a long nap.

And while Perry Blake was playing on the stereo, I peeled and diced a butternut squash to yet make another large pot of steaming wintry soup.

For lunch today. And probably the next.

That’s one of the many reasons why I love the fall. You too?

And by the way, a few days ago, exactly on November 26th, this blog turned 4. Isn’t it also ironical that my very first post talked about food photography? I had no idea….It’s been four amazing and fulfilling years, with so many joys–the best thing I’ve ever *baked*–and foods cooked, styled and photographed. Needless to say that I am very thankful for you, my dear readers, to be coming back to say hello. This place would obviously be very different without you.

Encore merci!

It’s wonderful the things we do for the people we love.

Prepare food, for example.

With Lulu, it started when she was still cozily nestled inside my belly. I remember thinking, every time I was putting food into my mouth, how much she would benefit from those foods. Comté, sole, rice pudding, carrots, zucchini, gratin, sweet potatoes, sweet and savory tarts, kale, peach, watermelon, apple, pear, blueberries, granola, veal, beef and milk — Oh the foods that I ate and enjoyed!

Then when Lulu was born, I started to nurse her, and then, when she was interested and had teeth too — did I tell you she has 8? — came the time to prepare foods for her.

It was somewhat intimidating, at first, knowing what foods to prepare for my baby. Trying to guess what she would like. What she would dislike. How would I know that she would love peaches and doesn’t care too much for bananas? That she’d love sheep milk yogurt and turns her head away from a piece of tofu? It’s a process I’ve learned. A world that I continue to explore, every day. Something that keeps changing too, with her. A life that I truly enjoy.

And somehow, along the way, I started to improvise fabulous food associations, combining vegetables with meats or fish, herbs and spices. Making the food nutritious and taste delicious. In fact, my rule is simple: if I like what I’ve prepared and want it for my lunch, then Lulu will have it! And hopefully she’ll enjoy it as much as I do.

Lulu is almost 10 months now — does time fly by for you too? She’s been eating many things. She loves quinoa buttermilk pancakes and anything that tastes like sweet potato — especially the Japanese white ones — and winter and summer squashes, cauliflower, broccoli and fennel. Yesterday, for example, she ate sole with Japanese white sweet potato, cauliflower and zucchini flavored with thyme and olive oil while dancing in her high chair to the tune of Charlie Winston playing in the background. And tonight, she had red quinoa to start, then winter squash steamed with fennel, chicken, sage and cumin. Not a single spoonful was left on her plate.

That alone never fails to make me feel warm inside. Happy.