“Regarde ce que fait maman,” (Look at what mummy does) I told Lulu. She was staring at me. I could hear her giggle as her feet kicked the yellow frame hung above her head of the play mat where she was lying.

Time flies. Lulu is already a twelve week old baby, playful and smiling as often as she breathes. She’s recently discovered that she can grab toys and use her legs and feet to move things around — she loves it. I like to keep her by my side when I prepare my photo shoots, and I know she likes to observe. Her blue eyes become round, a sign that she is trying hard to understand what I am doing. It’s really precious.

After I gave her a bath Sunday morning, I told her about our day. We would take a walk in the park; P. and I would read her a few stories; we would play and talk, and we would have a nutritious lunch to brighten the day even more.

“Maman va faire des tartelettes aux légumes pour le déjeuner. Tu aimes cela ?” (Mummy is going to make vegetable tartlets for lunch. Do you like those?)

She smiled again. Of course, about something else. But I liked to imagine that she was excited about lunch.

“Tu verras comme elles sont bonnes,” (you’ll see how nice they are) I whispered in her ear while kissing it too.

The truth is that we’ve eaten many tartlets over the last week because I am simply knee deep into the testing of new recipes for the book. In fact, it’s a great excuse for me to prepare our meals while working along.

“Mmm, I am trying to figure out the taste,” P. said after the first bite. I had really let my imagination go with what I had handy in the fridge, even if I had made a point of making healthy nutritious tartlets.

“Des poireaux ? Du fromage ?” he added after taking a second taste.

“Right. What else?” I went on, curious to know if he could make a better guess.

He paused.

“They really taste better than they look“, he said. His face nevertheless showed a look of contentment.

But I had to agree there.

“I know. But can you guess the type of cheese?”

“Du comté ?”

Well, perhaps it was an easy one to find out. We’ve eaten a lot of Comté cheese lately.

First of all, breastfeeding seems to have me crave cheese to no end. Really, I seem to be eating cheese all day long. Secondly, I’ve been lucky to receive two large pieces of Comté directly from the beautiful Franche-Comté region in France, where the cheese is made. I am quite a lucky girl since as long as I can remember, Comté has always been a favorite at home.

You know the cheese, don’t you? It’s fruity, nutty, dense, rich, wonderful as a nutritious snack, perfect in cooked dishes like gratin or tarts. It’s aged for months to develop its full flavor.

To start, I cooked finely sliced red onion with leeks, thyme and a bay leaf in olive oil before adding a dash of Vermouth to enhance the flavor. Then, I whisked together eggs with crème fraiche and milk, added grated Comté, and finished with a dash of nutmeg and finely chopped walnuts (almost the consistency of coarse flour).

“Are there any more?” P. asked once he finished his plate.

“I thought they did not look good enough,” I answered with a cheeky smile.

A simple recipe, wonderful on the day the tartlets are made, and just as good the next day. Served with a tossed green salad on the side. it was simply another perfect lunch.

Even Lulu seemed to say yes to more tartlets.

Like her papa.

And by the way, thanks so much for your patience! Lulu is almost doing her nights now, hurray, so soon enough, I will (hopefully) catch on more sleep, to become more present again in this space. On verra !

“You’re like a squirrel,” P. told me when he saw that I was putting a plump orange winter squash into the large vegetable basket I keep in the kitchen, which already contained at least three or four nice looking ones.

“I know!” I replied, feeling a bit silly to have bought yet another red kuri squash. “I am just too scared that I won’t be able to find any like this one again.”

Especially as I always make sure to buy organic ones, so that I can leave the skin on while cooking, if I decide to.

On Saturday, I made a soufflé au potimarron (Hokkaido squash soufflé). It was beautifully puffed and golden, and we almost ate the whole dish between the two of us, although my recipe actually accommodates four people. “It feels like we are eating flavored snow,” I said, laughing and helping me to some more. “I cannot believe that we managed to finish the whole dish up.”

“It’s bébé who took his or her share!” P. said in a joking tone.

I know already that I have to make another one again soon, and take pictures this time, if I am quick, to show you.

“Perhaps I could make one for your parents, when they come for Thanksgiving, non?”I asked P. “Do you think that they would like a soufflé?”

“Who doesn’t like soufflé?”

Then there was this Hokkaido Squash tart that I baked one evening last week when I knew that P. and I would not be back home until late in the evening.

“It will reheat quite well,” I said in the car as we we were driving to our birth class. Preparing for the arrival of bébé is of course conducive to making sure that we are all well fed — not that we actually need an excuse, really.

And the season for winter squashes is far from being over, Thank God. Especially with the holiday season approaching à grands pas. Are you already preparing foods? I have a dish of red kuri lasagna to make for dinner tomorrow, a cake and an appetizer to prepare for our festive dinner on Thursday. Frankly, I cannot wait to get started. In the meantime, though, we still need to feed us on nourishing foods, to keep us going. N’est-ce pas ?

This vegetable tart is a good example of how to enjoy comfortable, light autumnal meals. Easy to prepare; bursting with flavor. Quite ideal before the numerous foods awaiting us in a few days, for those of us who live on this side of the Atlantic, and celebrate Thanksgiving.

My family in France always wonders what this holiday is like. “Vous mangerez quoi ?” (What will you eat?) I can hear my mum and sister-in-law ask with evident curiosity. Our phone conversations are always filled with food matters. It runs in the family.

“A lot of winter squash, for sure.”

I am not complaining. I love it, in fact!

Next time, I really have to bake a pumpkin pie for them. They *must* try it!

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone, if we do not speak before then!

“I don’t think you know what an apple tastes like, until you have picked one from a tree, or tasted an organic or a Heirloom one,” I recently told P.

I really believe this.

And I know that I am lucky. I grew up with the best apple trees around — eating apples after dinner while watching TV was a highlight for my brother B. and I.

So I don’t know about you but today, there will be a few apple tarts around in our house. After going to a Foliage Festival last weekend where I bought delicious Reine des Reinettes, I now have too many delicious apples that need to find a home. And what better thing but treat yourself with an apple tart?

These tarts are really simple to make, *really simple* to eat, so simple that you are allowed to taste every single ingredient, leaving you as light as a feather.

Vraiment ! So if you feel short of dessert ideas, think A. P. P. L. E.

Ideas never fail to pop out, when it is all about gorgeous authentic apples.

I really love the fall!

My dad is not much of a dessert person. He really isn’t. There is one dessert, however, that he would rave about, even asking me to make it for him on occasions — something quite extraordinary for him in fact.

My dad likes la tarte au fromage blanc.

I had almost forgotten about it. Until a few days ago, when I had a sudden urge to bake a tart, and of all, precisely une tarte au fromage blanc.

I would describe une tarte au fromage blanc as the French version of an American cheesecake. Except that, since in France cream cheese isn’t a staple product — I doubt my parents or brother ever tasted it — we use fromage blanc instead. On the other hand, fromage blanc isn’t easy to find in the US, something I quite miss in fact — most of the fromage blanc I’ve tasted here lacks flavor and texture, because they are often made fat free.

Are you wondering about this dairy product?

Fromage blanc [froh-MAHZH BLAHN] is a soft, fresh cheese originating from Belgium and the northern part of France. As its name suggests, it follows the same process used to make cheese without lactic acid fermentation. It has the consistency of plain yogurt and can be found with different percentages of fat — 0, 20 or 40%. Of course, the higher the number, the silkier the texture. In France, we enjoy this delicious dairy product like yogurt, eaten plain with sugar and fresh fruit, and mostly in the preparation of desserts (and sometimes in savory dishes too, like les pommes de terre en robe des champs, an old favorite of mine).

And then, it is widely used in the traditional French tarte au fromage blanc.

I didn’t use fromage blanc in my recipe because I did not have any. Instead I used sheep plain yogurt combined to mascarpone cheese, and obtained a really lovely result — quite similar, in fact. The lemon zest and poppyseeds added provided the tart with a subtle flavor, and despite the fact that not much lemon was used, it still tasted lemony, probably because of the acidity present in the yogurt.

A dessert difficult to make?

Not at all.

Quite on the contrary: extremely simple to make, and keeping well in the fridge for a few days. Always a good thing.

So imagine my dad’s surprise while we were chatting on Skype this morning when I said:

“Devine quel dessert j’ai préparé ?” (guess what dessert I made?)

And him responding without hesitation: “Une tarte au fromage blanc ! ”

He later told me that he had not eaten one in years — like P. and I.

It was really about time to fix this.

Let’s talk about the quiches, shall we? After all, I am from Lorraine where quiche lorraine originates from.

But that’s not the reason why I want to chat about quiches with you.

In fact, let me confide that I’ve never been a huge fan of quiche lorraine. Oh yes, really not. When I was a kid, I always found the dish too rich, too egg-y and creamy, lacking the taste of scrumptious delicate vegetables that I can never get enough of. Of course, you won’t be surprised since a quiche lorraine does not have vegetables as a component. And if it did, we would not call it a quiche lorraine.

But then, I love the concept of a quiche. Everything about it.

Think a flaky pastry crust that supports a deliciously nourishing topping where you can find fish, vegetables, herbs, cheese, and always eggs and cream (or milk); a dish that makes a meal in itself when it is served with a salad. Really, it’s pretty much my idea of a successful lunch, or a light dinner, especially these days, with fall and its gorgeous days settling amongst us slowly.

Over the years, I have developed a lot of recipes for quiches. Sometimes, I make a large quiche to feed a crowd, and at other times, I prefer to make individual quiches — because they are cuter too — or even bite-sized ones, perfect for a party buffet. Quiches are also somewhat different from savory tarts because they use a higher ratio of eggs and cream and/or milk, and are baked in deeper molds. They are wonderful eaten on the day when they are cooked, but also develop extra flavor when they are reheated the next day. I typically prefer to precook the pastry, but not always either. Some people like to eat their quiches cold — perhaps you — although I must say, I am more of a warm quiche kind of eater. Quiches really inspire me, and always make P. and I happy when they are the center piece of our dining table — quite often a reality.

This recipe was actually spontaneous. You know, the type of recipe that happens when you look into the fridge as you are about to make dinner with yet no clue about what you will make.

Since I had leftovers of a few things, Danish blue cheese — used before in a soup and another vegetable tart — pastry crust, organic leeks, eggs and Zebra tomatoes bought at the market a few days before, the recipe happened naturally. With an arugula salad dressed in an argan oil vinaigrette, I knew that these quiches would be simple and lovely.

And they truly were.

With no leftovers this time.

“Let’s go there later in the day,” P. told me when I mentioned I wanted to have a picnic at the beach on Sunday. “It’s going to be hot before then, I can tell.”

“Yeah, I guess you are right,” I responded, feeling somewhat a tad disappointed since my plan had been to leave early in the morning. “It will be better, we will avoid the crowd and the heat. But eh, what about having dinner at the beach then?”

“Deal!”

This idea was already making me feel better. And completely excited. We never think often enough to have dinner at the beach. Yet, how nice to look at the sun set on the ocean while eating with our feet dug into the sand. Franchement pas mal !

We checked the weather forecast to make sure that there weren’t any thunderstorms in the making that we were not aware of. On ne sait jamais (you never know) with New England weather. Chance was on our side. Thus our plan was made and the rest followed naturally.

The last few days had been really hot and humid. We’d had weather to make you sweat at even a lift of an eyebrow, or each breath of air inhaled. Even my almost daily visits to the nearby pool — quite conveniently located, I must say — were not enough to ease it up.

The thought of the beach and a dinner picnic?

Frankly, it was the perspective of a great time.

I love picnics. I love to pack picnic baskets too.

Perhaps because I like picnics so much — I am honestly as fond of picnic utensils, baskets and dinnerware as of picnic foods — ideas kept coming to my head, with too many choices and options from which to choose from. Would I bake something? Make sandwiches? Or rather prepare a few salads?

“Tu préfères des sandwichs ou des tartetettes aux légumes ?” (do you prefer sandwiches or vegetable tartlets?) I said quite busy writing down a short shopping list to prepare for the picnic.

I don’t know why I even bothered to ask.

“Des tartelettes !” P. exclaimed. No hesitation involved.

I spent Sunday morning preparing all sorts of easy-to-pack foods. I did not choose one option, I wanted them all. Leftovers of the lunch we’d enjoyed the day before came in handy: cooked red quinoa and chickpeas were combined into a salad, with fresh herbs, diced scallions and pink radishes, and I also decided to complete this piece of our meal with our salade de carottes rituelle – française oblige ! Then I started working on the tartlets.

It is really my mum’s delicious tarte au thon, the very one she used to prepare every now and then when she was looking for a quick dinner idea, that inspired my recipe. When she prepared hers, my mum would brush la pâte (the pie crust) with moutarde forte de Dijon (strong Dijon mustard) and top it with chunks of tuna marinated in olive oil, fresh slices of tomatoes and grated cheese. For dinner, we always enjoyed the tart eaten warm, accompanied by a large green salad seasoned with a vinaigrette she was the only one to have the secret of, and if there was any leftovers, we would snack on them at odd times of the day.

My recipe used her basis but I also customized it. Starting with the crust, I knew I wanted to use olive oil instead of butter and like my mum, I used tuna for the topping. My mum is the one in our family who taught me how to recycle leftovers. I remember that we used to tease her about it, even finding her a nickname when we jokingly called her Madame Tupperware. Years later, I was far from imagining that, while I was still living with parents, my dad would also find me a nickname: la Miss des petits pots au frigo.

It surely comes handy today.

For the crust, I used three types of flours: brown rice, quinoa and millet — all wonderful in flavor. I also added poppyseeds for a nice color touch and crunchiness. As to the topping, in addition to tuna and tomatoes, I also marinated zucchini slices in olive oil and thyme, and added slices of red onions and crumbled fresh goat cheese.

“What time are we leaving again?” I asked P. as I was busy taking the tartlets out of the oven. They only needed twenty-five minutes to bake.

“Three,” he said. “Mmm, ca a l’air super bon ça,”

“Don’t touch! It is our dinner!” P. always likes to steal bits and pieces of food when I cook.

“I am going to make something sweet too,” I added.

I knew well that this would please him.

Refreshing slices of melon, watermelon, or ripe peaches are always a nice touch to a picnic basket but this time, I preferred to bring a bowl of deliciously crunchy Rainier cherries picked at the market. My spontaneous purchase of red rhubarb and local strawberries, for which I had had no baking plan beside making sure to enjoy them while they are in season, inspired me to improvise a few light fruit cakes baked in small ramekins. They also used quinoa flour, and my favorite Sicilian green pistachios.

The cakes turned out so delicious that despite trying not to, we ate the first two before leaving. But since my recipe called for four, I packed the other two for our dinner picnic. I sensed that eaten by the spoon, they would really finish our meal nicely.

When we arrived at the beach, the heat had almost completely vanished. Most people had already left too, to our delight. We walked for a while to reach a completely secluded place and then, we sat down. The blanket I spread on the sand was large enough for four people to lie on it. Quite comfortable for the two of us, and our picnic.

It was quite windy. After a short dip in the water, still cold at this time of year despite the outside temperature, we took a long nap. Then, when we started to feel hungry, we arranged the food on our improvised outdoors table: we had plastic plates, forks, napkins, homemade limeade and glasses. We passed the food between the two of us without feeling any need to talk. Instead, we simply enjoying the quietness. The scenery.

A couple walked by us as they were leaving the beach. They looked beaten by the wind and hot afternoon sun.

“Mmmm, this looks good,” the tall skinny tanned man said with a large friendly smile.

“Thanks!” I said, returning his smile.

We dug our feet into the sand which felt cold and cooling as it covered our skin.

The sun was starting to set too, casting a warm light all around us. We smiled, feeling content as we listened to the noise made by the waves breaking on the sand.

“Shall we do it again next week?” P. said.

I smiled.

He didn’t need to ask me twice.

Where have I been, I wonder myself, and where did time fly by this week? I just don’t know.
Sometimes life takes its course, not asking whether you agree with it or not. And with this being said, it was really much harder for me to get back into the swing of things.

Into a normal pace of life.

In fact, I found out that it is even more real now that the weather is gorgeous outside, and the thought of spending time inside, to write or do anything that keeps me between four walls, sounds less appealing. I am really an outdoors girl, and like a dog traveling in a car and sniffing the air through the window, I cannot help but want to go to play outside. I know you would feel the same way, wouldn’t you? We agree that we have to enjoy spring, and summer, as long as they offer us wonderful days.

But I also knew that I could not let another day go by without coming here to chat with you. I have missed it too. So even if I perhaps do not have anything amazingly interesting to say, I still have a few images and one favorite recipe to share. Easy to make, easy to eat, easy to pack with you.

I had promised to talk more about my love for tartlets and this recipe is a good way to start: I make it quite often, with many variations on the crust and the topping.

Since it is a long holiday in the US this weekend, and it is so nice — and warm — outside, P. and I decided to go out for a picnic. I decided to pack a few things: most likely a carrot salad, Moroccan style; these lovely grated vegetable tartlets, an egg salad — P.’s favorite; perhaps vegetable and goat cheese sandwiches if we are still hungry; juicy dark cherries or peaches, and a few chocolate cookies. I know we will have a good time.

The mystery of these tartlets resides in a few things: first there is the crust, which is a combination of brown rice flour, quinoa and tapioca flours with olive oil and poppyseeds; grated celeriac stewed with leek and red onion; and the delightful scent of poivre long — Long pepper — to flavor the dish.

You do not need to use much long pepper, and perhaps if you are new to this subtle spice, you will want to try just a tiny touch. Me? I love its smell: a little sweet, delicious in sweet and savory preparations. Try it with lamb, osso bucco, in soups, with goat cheese and even in a crème brûlée.

Variations on these tartlets abound, of course. For the topping, I don’t like to add a lot of egg/milk batter because I prefer to taste the vegetables more. I like to vary the vegetables too: I sometimes use grated carrots and parsnip, zucchinis and sometimes beets too. A slice of prosciutto added on top will enhance the tartlet, and a green salad — arugula, frisée or mâche — will always accompany the meal Ca, c’est obligé ! Note that because the crust is using brown rice flour – making the recipe gluten free — the consistency of the crust is much crumblier, hence a little more delicate to work with. But as you can assess, not impossible since at each time, the tartlets are a success. Of course, you can always substitute regular flour for the ones I suggest: a matter of choice and preference.

So off we go before the day is over and the sun is down. I want to feel the breeze on my face, feel the sun warm my skin and walk bare feet in the grass. The birds will keep us company. They have much to say these days too.

And in any case, be inspired by your mood to create a tartlet of your own choice. They can never disappoint.

Let me tell me you a little more about today, and Rome.

If you had told me a few months ago that I would be in Rome for my birthday, I would not have believed you. I mean, how spoiled am I? It feels like a real dream to be in such a city today. I will have so much to tell you about Rome and the romans.

So I guess today is my birthday, the day when I count a few more wrinkles, but so much more wisdom! N’est-ce pas ?

I won’t have the time to share a recipe with you I am afraid, even if I am dying to tell you about this scrumptious dessert — I made it before I left. As you can imagine, a birthday girl in Rome has plenty on her plate to do before the day is gone!

But I thought to celebrate a piece of this special day with you anyway, especially since it celebrates a few of my dear friends too: lovely Anita from Dessert First in San Francisco — she and I decided to both prepare a strawberry rhubarb tart today — my dear Tina in Melbourne, and Melissa in New Zealand. How cool is that to have the same birthday as them?

So what about the tart, you will ask?

You know my love for strawberries, and rhubarb too. So I decided to treat myself with two of my favorite things in a dessert, and made sweet tartlets with fresh strawberries, a vanilla flavored rhubarb compote with a light vanilla custard , everything on top of a sweet crust made with rice and quinoa flours. When I come back, I will have to take the time to write it down for you.

Today in Rome?

It was hot; it was fun.

We walked until our legs felt heavy and sore.

We ate; we shopped; and we even had a drink with the lovely Sigrid and her husband.

I wish that every day was like today. But then, that would make me very very old indeed, so let’s forget about that part, shall we?

The week has been long. Has it been for you too? I am just wrecked. And while some people prefer a glass of wine — perhaps you — others like dessert.

Moi ?

Both. Preferably in the open air. Let’s say, it would be nice at the top of a mountain in the snow.

Really! I mean it.

Perhaps you are amongst those who celebrate Valentine’s day. If so, have a wonderful day.

P. and I?

We typically prefer to keep it low key at home, entre-nous sans la foule, with a homemade meal and nice music to listen to — and I am still not sure what we will eat. In fact, it is as simple as this: our celebration is to do as we please, without making a big fuss. No plan is good, giving us a break from planning too much, too often. So you know, we might even end up only nibbling on a variety of goodies. Who knows? Beside, we celebrated today two sweet life moments: P.’s move to Boston ten years ago and my fête (mon fête as he says, making me smile when he does): la Saint Béatrice.

But this does not mean that there will be no sparkle and fun. Dessert, I hear you say? Mais bien sûr, a dessert. Something simple, but special all the same. Chocolate and passion fruit. I thought of an inviting dessert to combine both flavors, with a chocolate sweet crust and a passion fruit filling. The crust is incidentally gluten-free — made of white rice flour, cornstarch and quinoa flours – because this is the way I prefer to bake these days. It can well be made using all-purpose flour, up to you to choose what you like best. And what more, should you have problems finding passion fruits for the filling (they sell for near $3 the piece here, so this is a real treat), use lime juice instead. It just works as well, giving a refreshing zesty taste to the tartlets. Perhaps you prefer not to have chocolate? Just omit the cocoa powder then. You see, the options are wide open for you to do as you please, and preferably in good company and relaxed, as I wish everyone will have the chance to be.

With plenty of love, whether it is Valentine’s day or not. We surely do not need a special day for that, do we?