I could hear the rain pat against the window pane. I was sitting at my desk, finishing an article I had been working on, and then I looked at the clock. 5:45. Déjà!I thought. Not much time before I feed and put Lulu to bed and start to think about dinner.

Patricia, my mother-in-law, was playing with her downstairs. I could hear them laugh; they were obviously having fun. Probably much more than moi and my article upstairs. I smiled, thinking about Lulu playing hide and seek with her grand-ma.

Well, June has just been a crazy month. But Patricia has been a doll with me. She’s come to stay with us for a few weeks, to help so that I could write and, yes, hear it, it’s happening, finish my manuscript. I am handing it to my editor on Wednesday and then I’ll wait for feedback. Oh I just cannot wait for this to happen.

I was starting to feel tired. Maybe hungry.

I need a nibble! I thought.

I walked downstairs to get a bowl of pecan nuts and a glass of water. When she saw me, Lulu’s face lit up with a smile so wide that I could see her bottom teeth; they are the cutest thing! She dropped the white bunny she was holding in one hand and started to flap her arms. “She is in good form,” I told Patricia.

We laughed.

“Do you mind making dinner?” I went on . “I have a pound of veal for stew in the fridge.”

“Of course!”

It’s been a treat to have her in my kitchen, playing with my foods and testing some of my recipes too. On my end, I’ve enjoyed having her taste recipes I cooked for the book, and others randomly made. Like these muffins.

They happened quite by accident, as a matter of fact. The truth is that I had a bunch of organic bananas that were so ripe that they needed to find a home.

“I have to bake something with these bananas,” I said to Patricia, holding a bunch of dark-looking ones. “I’d hate to toss them.” It happens, you know, when I am too busy and leave them, unattended. Am I alone to do that?

So I thought about muffins. In fact, I was in the mood for something combining coconut with bananas.

I didn’t have a recipe, but let my imagination lead me. And this is how these muffins arrived on our table.

They use quinoa, hazelnut and buckwheat flours; eggs; coconut oil; coconut milk, bananas and brown sugar. They bake in 25 minutes, are really simple to prepare and completely irresistible. And I don’t mean to be bragging. They might not be the cutest muffins you’ve seen but they are extremely moist, not too sweet, and have the texture I love in a muffin.

“Do you like them?” I asked Patricia when I handed her a plate with a muffin still warm from the oven. We were finished with dinner and were having a cup of tea, watching the Michael Jackson news on TV.

“They are divine!” she exclaimed.

I was happy.

I ate one for my mid-morning snack, one for breakfast, Philip took one to work. Then a friend stopped by and we ate a few with him, and I gave more to Patricia when she left yesterday. So in the end, ours are gone. Partis ! Pouf ! Disparus !

In only a matter of one day.

So I had to share the recipe with you. Hopefully, you’ll like them just as much as we did.

Not long ago, P. asked me whether the verb clafoutir existed in French. I smiled. I found the question so sweet that just for a day, or two, I pretended that it did indeed.

It would have read like this:

“je clafoutis, tu clafoutis, il clafoutis, nous clafoutissons, vous clafoutissez , ils clafoutissent.”

Imagine that, so funny!

Wouldn’t it make sense, though? English as a language always seems to be much more flexible than stubborn old French? Words come and go so much more easily.

Anyway, I know what you’re going to say. Yet another clafoutis!

Well, I’ll have to apologize. But then, it’s really all we’re having for dessert at the moment. It serves the purpose just fine. And we are quite all right with it. In fact, it’s pretty good this way. In view of our life right now, that we’re still able to enjoy a dessert that brings the sweet touch, you know, what we want after dinner, what we need after dinner after too many hours hunched over the computer, busy finishing up the cookbook. I am getting there!

I made this clafoutis a few times over the last few weeks, varying the fruit. In this one, I liked to combine fresh strawberries and rhubarb stewed with orange zest. It’s seasonal, and always a winning association. Then, I mixed eggs with sugar, milk and coconut milk, almond flour and cornstarch. Baked for 25 minutes and ate them lukewarm dusted with confectioner’s sugar.

A lovely every day dessert, simple and straightforward.

Lulu will have to love clafoutis as much as her papa and her maman. Sinon! (or else) But right now, she’s only all about carrots and sweet potatoes. It has to start somewhere!

On another note, I’ll be speaking this coming Sunday, at the Food Styling and Photography Conference happening at Boston University. I hope that I’ll be able to meet some of you, and that I’ll be all right! Oh boy! Wish me luck!

It’s a good thing that I am still able to make dishes like this for dinner these days. Even better when they go in the Boston Globe, and well, you can enjoy them too.

P. and I like Asian food. A lot. Anything cooked in a broth made of coconut milk, barely cooked vegetables like snap peas, lots of coriander and lime juice, and big fat shrimps to go with it. Served with rice on the side. Even better the next day, especially if you are tight for time and you are hungry for lunch — like me, every day!

Well, you can read the rest. The recipe is easy and tasty.

I hope you enjoy it as much as we did.

June.

Juin

Is it real?

Tomorrow is my older brother B.’s birthday. He will be 43 — and he will probably spend his day in his wonderful garden. A gift.

So I can’t believe it’s June! I know, you’ve heard me say this before. But really, I mean it. This time, it’s just too quick to arrive.

My apologies for not being able to respond to your emails and notes, or being more present. I don’t like it — hopefully you won’t even have noticed — but I am simply not able to follow up right now. I have the cookbook to finish in a month.

Yes, you read well.

A short month.

With our Lulu to take care of, growing by the second, by my side. She’s all about stuffing her feet into her mouth at the moment. It’s her new thing. I had forgotten how fascinating a pair of feet can be. Oh, and blowing bubbles with her lips pursed too. That’s actually quite funny! I must say, I’ve spent a fair amount observing and discovering things through her fresh eyes. And giving her kisses — at least ten at a time — every two minutes.

It’s addictive.

Needless to say that I am b.u.s.y! Too busy!

It will change over time.

Now, of course, I am not complaining. It’s all fulfilling. But frankly, I’ll be happy to get to the depth of the summer when P., Lulu and I travel to Ireland and France — oh I love it already — and we can take long walks through the fields in the countryside, à la campagne, and smell the flowers again.

I cannot wait.

So I thought I would stop by quickly today, to share a recipe I’ve enjoyed preparing for my lunches these past weeks.

It’s a dish full of vitamins, taste and color — that’s, if like me, you like the color green and spring vegetables and a vanilla-flavored vinaigrette to go with it. But it’s also all about the egg too, you know, the kind you cook on the runny side. We call them oeufs mollets in French.

I just like the name.

And it’s just the type of foods that I need at the moment to keep me to go forward.

Well, you can try and tell me what you think.

My friend Y. loves chocolate. Well in fact, more than anything else, she loves dessert.

She is quite happy that I know this distinctive trait of personality of hers. In the hope, I know well, that whenever she stops by at our house, there will be something sweet to please her taste buds.

It’s a good thing that chances of this happening are high.

Y. is also one of the sweetest and kindest persons that I know: she is funny, smart, sporty, caring, gourmande, full of energy, and a woman who absolutely loves babies. She really does!

Smart me, I remembered that characteristics of hers too.

It’s not that I was actually craving to go out since Lulu’s birth. In fact, as odd as it might sound to many, I don’t miss going out at the moment at all. Far from it. Instead, I prefer quiet nights at home, between P. Lulu and I. Our small family gathered.

“My friend K. asked if we wanted to go to a ballet next Saturday,” P. asked one evening, a few weeks ago.

“We can’t!”

“Why not?”

“What about Lulu?”

“We can sort that out.”

And so, with two ballet tickets purchased and a dinner plan with our friends made, I really could only say yes. Thus the issue of a baby sitter arose, for the first time.

Of course, it had to start gently for me.

Since I could not imagine have a stranger take care of our precious princess, I immediately thought about Y., and my other dear friend E. They would be able to dine together, watch TV5 if they wanted to. And I would make sure that the fridge was full so that they would be well fed too.

Essentiel !

“What are you making?” P. asked when he saw that I was wearing an apron, obviously busy baking. He looked puzzled, which showed he had no idea why I was cooking something on a night we were dining out.

“Chocolate mousse. For Y. and E.,” I responded. I was holding a pot in one hand and was licking the chocolate-covered spoon I had in the other.

I went on: “I know they’ll like that.”

“I bet!”

Y. and E. cooked beefsteaks and made a medley of sauteed vegetables with a salad on the side. They teased me too, and sent a picture of their meal with their Iphone, after I texted them to make sure that everything was going well.

“Uneventful, the princess is asleep, and the chefs are in the kitchen making dinner.”

And they enjoyed the chocolate mousse. Especially Y.

“Oh my goodness, these are so lovely,” Y. had exclaimed after seeing the chocolate mousse glasses lined up on the higher shelf of the fridge.”But they are tiny!”

“I know,” I answered, smiling. “But I am sure you’ll be eating more than one!”

She did.

And we ate the rest the next day.

Lulu’s mamie left tonight. We are all sad.

Lulu and I decided to bake a carrot and hazelnut cake for her, one that she could easily pack and take with her on the plane.

Tomorrow, she will be back in France.

We are already missing her, everywhere in the house.

And in the kitchen — spotless for two weeks thanks to her tidy-everything hands.

We have to love our mums!

It was 4 am and Lulu was hungry. The soft chirruping noises she was making sounded like “hello, anyone here? I am hungry, pick me up!“; they were also becoming louder and more frequent. Her legs were stretched out into the air above the bassinet, pedaling like someone going up a hill. I stood up to look at her. Her face lit with an enormous smile; I smiled too. I lifted her and sat back comfortably in bed to nurse her.

The room was quiet.

She was done quickly — a matter of only ten minutes — and fell asleep on my breast. I carefully rolled her close between P. and me, so that she would finish the night with us — a treat we love to share.

And then it’s when I found out.

Half asleep, I walked to the bathroom, and on my way out, I stopped by my desk to check my mail. There wasn’t any particular reason, really. It was just out of habit. I checked the weather forecast and opened a new window on my screen to load my blog. And, I stared.

“Hein ? What’s that?”

Had I made a mistake? What was that page, with pictures of me all over? My sleepy eyes tried to read quickly, quicker than my brain could understand at that late hour of the night. But then, just like pieces of a puzzle put together, I started to understand.

And felt overwhelmed.

By such a note, so wonderfully written by my love P. — he is quite someone indeed — and by all the words you’ve all generously left in that space since then.

There is one word, un mot, in French: merci.

Thank you!

You’ve been *so* kind.

What can I say? This birthday will leave me with an amazingly good memory because of this gesture. Because of P.

And because of your words.

It’s true that life is hectic at our house these days, between work commitments, a cookbook to write, and a darling daughter to take care of. But oh it tastes just *so* delicious.

I am really spoiled.

And so, would you believe me if I told you that it even became better?

Seriously, it did.

A few days later, not only my mum arrived for a planned two-week visit, but I also received another wonderful surprise: a new dining table that, it’s silly to say, I like so much that I want to kiss it every time I sit at it. And you know, that happens quite often.

Then, this past weekend, P. organized the best surprise birthday party I’ve ever had. I am still not sure how he managed to not leave any sign, anywhere in the house — beside a sudden gardening spree — but he did. Quite well, in fact.

I was, once again, completely surprised.

And feeling so happy to be in such good company. Between him, our beautiful cheeky daughter, my friends, and you.

So, once again, merci. Hopefully I will soon be done with my manuscript so that I am more available again, to write, and to respond to your notes and emails.

Worth turning forty, n’est-ce pas ?

A special note from P:

This is the first time that I have hijacked my wife’s blog, but if there was ever a good occasion to do so, this is it. For those of you who read regularly, you will know that we have a lot going on in our lives: our beautiful new baby, for starters. And Béa is working feverishly on her book, which means that she’s writing, shooting, styling and changing diapers non-stop. Yes, a baby and a book at the same time. It’s quite a sight.

But today is a day to put all that aside and have some fun.

Béa is a force of nature whose determination and passion is a model for many of us, but certainly me (one has to wonder what our daughter will turn out like with a mother like this!). We have traveled the world together, seen each other at our best and worst and still, there’s absolutely nobody I’d rather be spending my life with than her. Yes, the food is pretty amazing. But I think that it’s her good nature or general joie de vivre that is her most remarkable characteristic. Those of you who know her in real life will understand what I’m referring to. Those of you who visit La Tartine Gourmande often definitely get an authentic flavor of what she’s like and how she sees the world. And when I watch her share that with our little daughter, it doesn’t get any better.

So it’s with this in mind that I want you all to join in and wish my dear Béa a happy 40th birthday!

-P.

We love soft fresh goat cheese.

Everyone in my family, in fact, except my dad. One of the best memories I keep from the yearly summer trips my family took to southwest France was the weekly expédition to the marché where, invariably, we would return with a few fromages de chèvre frais (soft fresh goat cheese) in our basket. These types of goat cheese were made by local artisans and had me dream of owning goats, so that one day, I would too be able to make that delicious type of goat cheese. I really loved the idea.

But of course, that never happened.

I don’t own goats — although I am still in the love with the idea — but I am a huge fan of fromage de chèvre frais.

Much to my regret, that type of cheese is hard to find where I live. Or at least this is what I thought before I recently visited Formaggio, in the hope of buying goat cheese for a recipe I was writing for the Boston Globe.

“What fresh goat cheese would you recommend?” I asked the young girl at the cheese section of the small Cantabrigian delicacy store. Lulu was staring at the glass window behind which various attractive goat cheese were on display.

“You’ll love this one,” she answered without hesitation. She was pointing at a small table hidden in a corner, where two types of cheese were arranged for sampling. “It’s Belgian and really tasty. Would you like to try some?”

She was right.

The cheese was perhaps not looking like those I remembered from my vacations, but it was still excellent: extremely light and balanced, and with great texture.

“It’s a St Maure? I’ve never heard about this one,” I said, feeling content to have discovered something new.

“You know what Lulu? We’ll come back soon to buy more,” I told her as we returned to the car.

I used the cheese for the Herb and Red Peppercorn Goat cheese recipe I wrote this week for the Seasons Column of the Boston Globe.

It’s always nice to have this kind of recipe handy, should you feel like enjoying an easy-to-make, yet dressed-up snack. We ate ours with crusty baguette and red wine a few weekends ago, when our friend J. came to visit.

The whole thing disappeared within minutes.

It happens that quickly, with tasty fromage de chèvre.

Carrots.

It’s funny, really, to get excited about carrots. I have friends who think that I am crazy to find carrots sexy, but I secretly know that they’ve probably not been as lucky as me, to have grown up near the best carrots one can imagine. I swear it’s true.

I was that lucky young French girl who, each summer, was waiting for the premières carottes de la saison (the first carrots of the season). They were always planted in rows of three in my mum’s garden, between the French beans and beets, with the young ones as the best in taste, those not yet fully grown that I liked to “steal” and eat as a midday snack. Of course, they were never straight in shape, and were always full of dirt. I know well that they would never have won aesthetics awards, but as to their goût (taste), it was simply incomparable.

The best.

The other day, I had a craving for carrot mash. Again.

It happens quite often.

It’s not even because spring is finally here — or I should say summer, in view of the thermometer today! The air outside reached 90 degrees Fahrenheit. 32 degrés celsius ! Crazy, non ? I keep thinking that no later than last Sunday, when we went for a walk to the park, we were still wearing hats and gloves. I am actually already missing my hat and gloves. And it’s not even because my sister-in-law gave me the best hat that I’ve ever owned.

But the trees exploding into colorful blooming flower buds everywhere I looked made me feel quite cheery. Despite the heat I dislike.

Oh yes, the carrots.

So, I had this craving for carrots. A dish of carrot mash, more precisely. Now that Lulu is four months old — last Saturday, in fact — I think more and more about simple dishes like mashed vegetables. I am excited at the prospect that she will soon experience the taste of food for the first time, beside le lait de sa maman (ie my milk). How fascinating to witness her going through this wonderful phase of life! It’s all magical, really.

She already likes to hang out with us at the dining table, and sits proudly — she really has this look on her face — in her green high chair. She likes to be part of the family table, smiling as she looks at us to her right and left, before she starts it all over again. I love that she is happy there.

“Avec toi, j’ai commencé avec des purées de légumes, comme les carottes, (I started with mashed vegetables like carrots)” my mum tells me when I curiously ask about the foods she introduced to us first — I have to learn too. She has pride in adding that my brother B. and I never ate a petit pot de bébé acheté (store-bought baby food); she always cooked what we ate.

Maybe this is the reason why I love carrots so much.

It must be it.

This carrot mash version is, of course, for times when Lulu will be a little older. I made it thinking about the new season, and the flavors P. and I were in the mood for. It’s very simple and surprising.

It uses fresh coriander, the smell of which diffusing in the kitchen inspires me about spring produce; coconut milk for an exotic touch, and cracked red peppercorns for enhanced flavor and color. It’s always prepared with a food mill, because I am convinced that the best mashed vegetables are made this way. No exception.

It’s a wonderful side dish that you can prepare to accompany grilled fish or meat, or eat just as it is in the bowl. And, if you have leftovers, you can also feel creative with other recipes.

But I will have to tell you about that next, when I have a moment again for myself.

In the meantime, let’s enjoy this simple food.

And the feeling of the new season.

Spring.

Note: the textiles used in the top picture and above come from Harmony Art, a talented designer I was lucky to come across. Oh the surprises of the web and the wonderful things we can find while browsing here and there. A big thank you to Harmony. I cannot wait to get more of her organic patterns to cheer up my pictures. They work so naturally.