If you recall, last year, I told you about the first cookbook I contributed to, styling and photographing the foods. Jennifer, the author, came to my house for a few days to work — we immediately became friends. Her cookbook was just published and I am so honored to have been able to work with her and the people at Chronicle Books.

It’s a book about Gingerbread and every goodie that comes with it. It’s funny to think about it. I was three months pregnant when I worked on this project last summer. It was so hot, I remember, and I was completely morning sick, but it was a marvelous experience to team with Jennifer. She’s funny and witty, and full of energy–we worked really well together.

Her book is now available in bookstores and amazon, if you are interested. And, since I baked all the recipes with pictures attached, I can tell you that they work fantastically! So if you like gingerbread, you know what to do next. It’s the season!

Note that the second picture (a gingerbread I baked from her recipes) in this post is not in Jennifer’s book, but I just liked it so wanted to put it here! Simple and tasty!

You know that I like to travel and write about the experience of my trips. I’ve always been that way in the family.

Don’t ask me why but I’ve always been extremely attracted by les pays du Nord — Scandinavia in general. Over the years, P. and I traveled twice to Iceland and once to Denmark.

And we’ve been dreaming about Norway.

I’ve not yet been to Norway but it’s a destination high on my list. So when Hanne, a journalist working for the Norwegian magazine Maison Mat & Vin, emailed to ask if she could interview me for a feature in their magazine, I felt pretty excited. It had me dream of traveling to Norway and its colors and fjords and culture again. Lulu will love it as much as we will — I know.

The article Hanne wrote is about food bloggers and was just published in the September 2009 issue — the recipe of mine they featured is my upside down olive oil apple cake. I was really happy to see fellow food bloggers like Ilva, David and Cecilie. I don’t speak Norwegian but sometimes it doesn’t matter. Pictures speak for themselves. Maison Mat & Vin is one of those delicious-to-read food magazines that make you dream of food and travel.

Thanks Hanne!

“Vous avez dû attendre pendant longtemps ?” (Did you have to wait for long?) my parents asked. We were standing at one end of terminal E in Roissy Charles de Gaulle airport, hugging and kissing. My parents were as eager to see us as we were to see them. But I knew that, in fact, they were even happier to greet and hold their little grand daughter. Lulu was snuggled cozily against my stomach in her ergo. We could only see the top of her head and hair and eyes which she had wide open. She was smiling and flapping her bare legs against mine, turning her head to the right, then to the left, not to miss anything that was happening around us. We were all tired but so happy to be home in France.

The thought of traveling back home had filled me with feelings of excitement even if I had worried about our journey to Europe. It was Lulu’s first transatlantic flight. How would she handle it? Would she be fine with the many plane rides, between Boston, Paris, Dublin and Paris again? How would she do with the jet lag? But our little Lulu didn’t mind at all any of it. In fact, she adjusted extremely quickly, much faster than P. and I did.

Summer in rural eastern France, where my parents and brother live, has left me wonderful memories. I realized that it had been years since I had traveled there during summer.

It’s the soft morning light cast on the countryside early in the morning, the colorful wild flowers illuminating the fields, the rich smell of freshly cut grass, the butterflies dancing from flower to flower and the clacking sound of the crickets late at night that I love. It’s the time of year when, I remember, as a young girl, we used to harvest hay at my grandparents’. Sometimes, I was allowed to drive the tractor back from the fields, and proudly did so. Later in the afternoon, my brother and cousins would sneak in the barn to play, jumping on bales of hay neatly stacked high.

Days in the countryside are spent at a slower pace even if summer means it’s a busy time for many who live there. In my family, we like to pick all sorts of fruit to make jams and preserves and bake tarts; we preserve French beans and beets, and make ratatouille. We walk in the grass bare foot and nap under the cherry trees, if we feel like it. We did that very well, I must say, the day after we arrived, then the next, and the day after the next too — and we never seemed to find the activity boring. Would you?

Lulu, too, made the place her own. She and I loved the daily routine we established. There were the usual morning and afternoon naps, the walks to the village to buy baguettes for lunch, and the many hours spent playing on a large blanket spread under the trees, in my parents’ garden. It was delightful to see her enjoy herself so much. She was fascinated by trees and loved to watch the wind move their leaves. She played with the flickering shadows created by the rays of sun filtering through the branches.

I told her about where our food comes from. When I took her to the village, I showed her the cows and sheep and chicken and rooster and rabbits. I pointed at eggs nested at one corner of the hen house. I made her smell red currants and apples and strawberries and plums that my parents grow.

She ate the vegetables — carrots, beans, zucchini, beets and tomatoes — we prepared from my mother’s and brother’s gardens. Every day, it seemed that she was learning something new — her new discovery is to clap her hands (she does that so joyfully, really, it’s cute!) while blowing raspberries at the same time. It’s amazing, actually, how quickly she has changed over the course of these last three weeks away.

Our life is so much richer with her at the center of it.

“Tu veux que je la prenne ? “(Do you want me to take her?) my mum asked me one morning after I had just finished to nurse Lulu. She was wide awake, laughing, talking and kicking her legs above her head. It was also 6 am, the time of day when my mother gets up — it’s brave! I didn’t need to answer. She knew. I felt relieved. Si tu veux! (Sure!)

While falling asleep, I could hear them *converse* with each other in the kitchen at the breakfast table — Lulu sitting in her high chair while my mother was eating her bowl of muesli and yogurt.

It didn’t matter that we did not travel long distances or do much. We did what we had been craving for weeks: we rested.

The food was gorgeous, and I ate a ton. I even wonder where I put it all! Between the fresh vegetables and fruit from the garden, I also indulged in dairy products hungrily, eating yogurts, petits-suisses and fromage blanc as if I was discovering them for the first time again. I devoured cheese greedily, at all times of the day. Oh yes! Everything felt more tasteful and flavorful. My mother cooked — isn’t this the nicest? — and I helped, baking and making fruit tarts.

Every day, Lulu came with me to the garden where I picked more berries and seasonal fruit, carrots, salad and tomatoes for lunch. The mirabelles, prunes de cochon and quetsches were so ripe that we stewed them and made tarts.

One day, my mum and I took Lulu to the local market.

In my brother’s garden, I collected fresh herbs, different types of basil, sage, thyme, chervil, livèche (lovage) — my sister-in-law’s favorite — and mint to make a herb risotto. I’ll have to tell you about it. We enjoyed it so much that I cooked it twice.

We had family lunches and dinners at home that we ate outside and a few times, we drove the scenic winding road, just a few kilometers away, to l’Ecluse 16 — a lovely restaurant nested in the Bonne Fontaine forest, by the canal de la Sarre — where we ate scrumptious modern food.

I thought I wouldn’t find red currants, as suggested by my dad, but I was excited to discover that the bush in my parents’ back garden was still heavy with bright red berries, fully ripe. Every day, my mum used them in fruit salads while I baked them in muffins.

I also made a red currant and almond tart.

Red currants are a delicacy in the US, which always surprises me when they are so abundant and easily found where I am from in France. In the city of Bar-le-Duc near by, locals use the fruit to make a special jam. The tradition consists in removing the seeds with a goose feather and dates back to 1344. The jam is extremely delicate.

If you’ve eaten the berries before, you know that the fruit is rather acidic, and has small seeds inside. The berries are delicious in tarts when they are prepared with a sugary almond batter, which balances the tartness of the fruit.

“I told you it would be worth it,” I told my dad, with a victorious look on my face, when we all sat down at the table again to have dessert. He had jokingly asked that I stopped stealing the last red currants on the tree. It was hard to! One of his favorite thing is to pick and snack on the fruit while working outside.

“Oui, elle est très bonne ta tarte,” (Your tart is really good) he said, helping himself to a second slice.

What I didn’t tell him is that, a few days later, I grabbed another handful of the red berries to bake muffins. I just couldn’t resist.

Everyone commented on how delicious the muffins were.

And the missing red currants went unnoticed.

It’s wonderful how that works.

The expression does not make sense when translated into English, but I love it: Poisson d’avril, which literally means April’s Fish.

Well, I guess I know what we are eating tonight. And that is no joke.

Or perhaps I just wanted to post a picture of a colorful fish since I cannot imagine hanging this one on anyone’s back — we really do those things en France.

Sérieusement. I cannot remember when was the last time I played an April fools’ day trick on anyone. Lulu will have to learn the tradition. She will love it. And the fish too.

Well, it’s April.

Wow. Incroyable !

And there’s so much activity in our house. A daughter who is growing like une mauvaise herbe (a weed), says le papa. She is happy and *so* curious about everything. About every single detail of life. That’s what babies do.

And there is my cookbook that requires so much of my energy. It will be another full month. Hopefully less fast. But as full.

Well, I hope that you are also starting April on the right foot.

Well fed. Happy and jolly.

I just needed to stop by, to wish you a happy April Fools’ Day. And share with you a simple fish recipe.

Take a whole fish of your liking, thyme and sea salt, add a splash of olive oil, a few steamed potatoes on the side, and a tossed salad, and turn dinner into a simple fare.

You’ve had something like this before, haven’t you?

You are not going to be mad, are you? I mean, I am not coming to talk about soup or dessert, two things I actually love to prepare. But instead, let me tell you about a special event you might like. It is still very tasty, I promise.

Do you remember two years ago, when I was lucky to attend the International Food Styling and Photography Conference in Boston? It was so much fun — creative and rich in information. I remember how shy it felt for me to be there, amongst all the professional stylists and photographers — and how I felt so glad that my friend L. attended with me! I remember keeping my eyes and ears wide open in order to grab as much information as I could.

And I did.

They had already talked about another conference back then.

“In two years,” Lisa had told me when I asked. Deep inside, I was already looking forward to 2009.

Then, of course, I was also far from imagining that 2009 would bring me two other wonderful events: a beautiful baby daughter and a cookbook deal. Needless to say that je n’ai pas le temps de m’ennuyer, as we say in French. (I do not have time to get bored!)

But here it is. Two years later, the conference is about to take place again for the second time in Boston.

Exciting!

What I was far from imagining though is that I would be speaking this time. Another new reason for me to feel shy and nervous.

Seriously!

I will be part of a general discussion:

You can find the detailed program by following this link, and if you are interested in joining, check the full details here.

Fun, non?

I am spoiled.

A few months ago, contributing editor Anne Ditmeyer who writes for inspiring Design Sponge (“a daily website dedicated to home and product design”; see the feature of In the Kitchen column too from February) asked me if I would like to give a tour of our house, for their Sneak Peek column. No need to add that I felt really honored. It took me some time to finally take pictures of our house — there seemed to always be food projects and a baby’s room to renovate in the way — but here it is now, finally.

You can check the full article with more pictures by following this link here.

Many thanks again to Anne and Grace at Design Sponge for giving me this honor. I hope you will enjoy the short tour inside our little house.

Incidentally, I wanted to add a note about my lack of response to emails some of you have sent, with questions about camera, food styling and photography. So sorry I have not yet managed to answer them all. If you do not hear from me, feel free to send another note!

For some reason, since I was a kid, the days after August 15th always felt like already the end of summer — after my grand-mother’s regular family reunion meal of August 15th, date of her fête since her first name was Marie. She always started the meal with melon au porto and jambon du pays. And we invariably had a salade de fruits du jardin (garden fruit salad), amongst other things, to finish the meal. Red and White currants were a must in her fruit salad, as well as preserved cherries. After all, we were no less than twenty-eight mouths to feed.

I am already dreading when these lovely beauties, les fruits rouges de l’été, will be gone! I’d better get some recipes done before this happens.

You too ?

When I arrived at my local farmer’s market last week, I was on a really important mission: finding round zucchini, my favorites by far. They are simply too lovely to resist, always looking pretty on your dinner table.

Delight! I was successful. One farmer tucked in a corner had some.

Upon my return home, I set myself to work immediately and prepared des petits farcis, a favorite summer dish in my kitchen.

I wrote this summer Squash recipe for this week’s Seasons column of the Boston Globe’s Food section, and prepared the dish a few times. The first time I tested the recipe, I used regular long yellow summer squashes and green zucchini, the second time I used my newly purchased round zucchini beauties from the market.

So perhaps if you are as hooked as I am, you will go back to the market every week to buy a batch of round zucchini — making sure to arrive there first to put all chances on your side — and you will indulge in these delicious vegetables as long as their season lasts! Frankly, I am always sad to see the end of it.

But until this happens, I will make a point of preparing petits farcis (small stuffed vegetables) as often as I can, sometimes as a vegetarian dish with all types of rice or quinoa, and at other times prepared with ground meat.

And in all cases, simply too cute and too good to resist.

Where was I again? Oh yes, desserts, I promised you one.

Its story is simple. Neither fuss nor complication, but a delicious outcome that I am never becoming tired of.

I was a young carefree girl growing up in the eastern part of France. Most days after school or during the grandes vacances, my brother and I used to ride our bikes to the place du village to meet our friends under the tall majestic marronniers (chestnut trees) that seemed to have been there for ever. They provided a lot of shade for us to hide from the sun during summer, and in the fall, their leaves scattered on the ground made a colorful bed for us to play on. We loved these trees; they had become our secret meeting place if we needed to have one.

Once or twice a week, on the way back home, I would stop to get fresh milk at Monsieur S.’s, one of the few farmers in the village. I was quite delighted that my brother did not care for it, hence I did not have to take turns with him.

I was proud to be the one in the family to fetch the milk.

I liked the short walk home carrying my bidon (pail) full of milk in one hand, pushing my bike with the other. The milk felt warm when it brushed my leg, and I imagined all the good things my mother was going to prepare with it. A bol de chocolat chaud was the first thing I was looking forward to.

“Tu vas faire des crèmes vanille chocolat en dessert ?” (Will you make vanilla and chocolate creams for dessert) I often asked my mum once I was back home.

She would look back and smile. She knew it was one of my weaknesses. Hence it is perhaps the first dessert that she taught me to make: simple and comforting. Since then, I have not grown tired of it.

On the contrary.

“What is the most distinctive thing you notice in a French supermarket, that tells you that you are in France?” I asked P. one of the many days when I was pondering and reflecting on cultural differences. I imagined that he was going to tell me “the cheese section“, or perhaps the “boucherie display ” but instead, he exclaimed “les crèmes desserts et les yaourts !”

Indeed, dairy products stand out as different, as I am reminded every single time I go back.

The French really love their dairy products, yogurts and crèmes desserts, including petits pots de crèmes. And they know how to market them well too. Walk into any French supermarket and visit the refrigerated dairy section, and you will understand what I mean. Lines of dairy products — fruit yogurts with beautiful flavors like rhubarb , lemon or apple (a few of my favorites), flans of all kinds, silky fromage blanc, creamy petit suisse, flavored mousses, delicious soy products too — are nicely packaged, cleverly marketed for easy customers victims, like me. Some look modern and new while others have an old-fashioned (à l’ancienne) flavor, as if they had been made in the old days. How could I resist yogurts made by companies like La laitière or La Fermière coming in glass or pottery jars? Every time I return from a trip to France, my collection of glass jars keeps increasing.

So naturally, I make petits pots de crème often since I am somewhat frustrated with the selection of yogurts and crèmes desserts I find in American supermarkets.

In this recipe, I use what I’ve been taught when I started to prepare this dessert as a child, but I also add a twist, varying the quantities and ingredients. And since I could not decide between chocolate and vanilla, I made both in the same batch, solving my common indecisiveness issue.

When I want to stick to the classic French recipe the way I’ve learned, I use milk. Some people will tell you that they also like to combine cream to milk but in my case, I prefer to keep the dessert on the lighter side, hence I only use milk.

In more recent years, I have also enjoyed using coconut milk combined to soy milk. Either way, the outcome is delicious and tastes as I fondly remember.

Then, there is also the recipe for the chocolate coconut pots de crème I’ve made a few times, one that has become a favorite too. But we should start with the beginning, and talk about the first recipe first.

Shall we?

Not only was I delighted to be working for Cuisine Light Magazine once more for their July/August issue (numéro 5), but what a lovely surprise to find out that one of my pictures was chosen as the cover of the magazine.

Now this is a first and I have to say, that made my day!

Many thanks again to the team for including my work in the magazine. You will find recipes like veal roulades with sage, cherry tomatoes stuffed with red quinoa salad, fresh muesli with apple, spring rolls, a summer sandwich ideal for a picnic, a refreshing salad and many more goodies to keep you company during summer.

I hope that this makes you hungry.

Well, I am now. I’d better get some lunch before I become grumpy.

And oh yes, dessert is on its way.