Risotto. With green peas, basil and lemon.

It’s what Lulu and I will be having for lunch today. I am waiting for her to wake up from her nap to sit down at the table and eat.

“Lulu, réveille-toi, maman a vraiment faim !” (Lulu, wake up, mummy is really hungry!)

One day, she’ll understand that risotto cannot wait–although P. argues that he *loves* when I reheat risotto.

So she’d better hurry and wake up soon!

Bon weekend à tous !

I woke up craving a bowl of lentil soup.

”White lentils! How unusual!” I thought after grabbing a bag from the shelf, so that I could look more closely. The label on the package read Ivory white lentils, and that name piqued my curiosity right away. With their pale fair color, the lentils looked delicate. Will they cook like green lentils? I wondered. Or like red? I didn’t think twice. I knew that I had to try them and dropped one bag into my cart. And as I walked through the aisles of the store to finish my grocery shopping, I started to brainstorm ideas on how I would use the légumes. Perhaps a salad, or add them to a vegetable stew.

Until I thought about a hearty soup.

For the entire week that followed, however, the bag sat at the corner of the counter top. Untouched. I’d catch a glimpse of it every morning when I walked into the kitchen. It seemed that it was looking back at me, saying “c’mon, do something with me!” So I thought about my soup idea again. The hearty soup I had imagined at the store with slices of spicy Spanish chorizo and winter vegetables. The soup I eventually imagined to serve topped with a poached egg, a generous dollop of crème fraiche and a dash of paprika, so that the dish would become substantial and more nourishing.

Soups like this one are dishes I enjoy preparing during the winter a lot. Perhaps once a week. They are everything-in-a-pot kind of dishes that are really easy and quick to prepare, something that I must say, I find quite convenient while I am trying to work and look after Lulu at the same time. Once started, I can leave the soup to simmer on its own, almost unattended, and come back to it half an hour later to find a pot of delicious nutritious food.

If you decide to make the soup, you’ll find that white lentils cook quickly — just as red lentils do. They do not require any soaking, which is rather practical too, should you decide to prepare the soup spontaneously. Once the lentils are cooked, they develop a mild flavor and soft texture that blend perfectly into a thick broth when combined with small pieces of butternut squash, carrots and tomatoes. The overall flavor is spiced up with Spanish chorizo and the soup becomes truly irresistible with a generous dollop of crème fraiche dusted with paprika, and a poached egg. Who, really, could resist the thought of a soup finished with a poached egg in it? In our household, we surely can’t.

The first time I made the soup, Lulu and I ate it with pieces of whole grain bread for lunch. At first, I was unsure whether she was going to like it but was still decided to give it a try. When I saw that after the first spoonful, she was asking for more, I felt my heart leap with excitement.

“C’est bon, non?” (It’s good, isn’t it?) I told her while putting the food inside her mouth. She was banging two teaspoons on the table with her mouth wide open. Asking for more.

We left the table filled with great energy from our food, which Lulu was quite pleased to use later on the swing. And I just went along.

I was looking at my baby girl and started to feel tears in my eyes. She was playing with her music box, unaware that I was observing her. I felt thankful. And so lucky. To have her. To be sitting in the comfort of our home. To have food and everything we need. Us. Our family together.

I had just watched pictures of Haïti. Pages of them, the ones more painful to look than the others. It was hard to imagine that this natural catastrophe had happened. That it is real. And that it’s leaving a country already destituted in an even more precarious state . I don’t think that it’s possible to even start to imagine what it must be like. Awful. Once again, it shows how fragile life can be, and how one second will never look like the previous one.

So when I take food and water — and medical care — for granted, the Haitian population is struggling for their basic vital needs.

Words weigh little if there aren’t gestures. Anything we do to help can make a difference.

I personally chose to donate to Unicef so that food is sent to children who are always so much more vulnerable. Many other donation organizations exist, and other bloggers have shown wonderful support, to only name a few.

Thank you for any help you can give too.

“Everyone is in for a hot chocolate?” I asked our friends M. and A. as we all sat around the table. It was early afternoon and despite the bright sun shining outside, it felt bitterly cold. We didn’t mention it but we felt glad to be sitting inside. Home to drink hot chocolate. And eat muffins.

“You don’t mind if my muffins have cocoa in them too, do you? I added, suddenly unsure that we should actually drink hot chocolate to go along with the muffins I’d baked.

A. was the first to look at me. His face lit up with a wide smile that made him look like a child excited to be standing in front of a piece of beautiful candy.

“Are you kidding?”

He was right. What was I thinking? It didn’t matter that we had them together because when it’s cold and snowy outside and the fireplace is going–and it feels so toasty warm that I could almost sleep inside it–I cannot help but think about Chocolate. Baking. Muffins.

These words sound so melodious when they are put side by side. Enchanting. They feel cozy.

Baking, to start, has a magic buzz. It carries this je-ne-sais-quoi that invariably makes me feel peaceful. Secure. When it happens spontaneously, I like that I don’t feel the need to be original. A list of ingredients naturally flows in my head and that’s enough to start the process. I’ve done the maths and tried the combination so often before that I am confident that nothing can go wrong. Nothing can get between me and my muffins.

And Chocolate, more precisely.

It’s something that I’ve noticed. The fact that I obviously enjoy making all kinds of dessert. From fruit tarts, clafoutis, petits pots de crème, oeufs à la neige, crumbles, charlottes. But that one way or the other, I invariably come back to anything that involves chocolate.

Chocolate. It’s a charming word that I just know oh too well will make my stomach smile in any occasion.

And these muffins were indeed just right. They used delicate unsweetened cocoa (Valrhona is a favorite), flours with character, and bananas that made them moist. The muffins felt light and nutritious.

“Anyone for a second?” I asked as we were engaged in a lively conversation.

“Of course!” A. was once again the first to respond. I watched him pick a second muffin and felt pleased. I’ve always liked that he has such an obvious enthusiasm for desserts.

I also told him to bring the muffins left home. I thought he might enjoy one on his flight back to Paris. But as I was clearing the table shortly after they’d left, I realized he’d simply forgotten.

“Ah well,” I thought. “Tant pis !” (bummer)

I didn’t tell him but in the end, I was glad that he had forgotten. I was thinking about the walk I’d have in the cold with Lulu the next day, and despite the fact that I’d have my feet frozen and my cheeks and nose turned pink red from too much wind, I’d feel quite happy to have yet another hot chocolate and muffin moment.

Deep inside, you know, I am really a winter kind of girl.

And I think that Lulu is learning to turn into one too.

Non?

I know. The title does neither sound nor look like a yummy chocolate dessert or a delicious vegetable soup.

But it’s fun! And it might surprise you as much as it did surprise moi. The truth is that the engineers at Google have been pretty nice with me. Consistently. It’s the third time that they are asking whether they can use La Tartine Gourmande inside one of their projects.

This time, we are talking about Nexus One, the new phone that they’ve just launched. So if you are curious about it, simply check their link here and click on the Browser icon to get the demo. You’ll see that my blog is featured in it. More particularly my post about Martha’s Vineyard. (Arstechnica.com, a technology site, talks about it here too)

I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t excited. I mean. It’s Google!

That was undoubtedly a highlight of my day.

Merci Google!

The day started in the kitchen with aromas of finely sliced apples sautéed in butter and brown sugar; warm oatmeal and toasted almonds; and quinoa waffles dusted with a cloud of confectioner’s sugar. There were pots of green and Roibos teas on the table, and Taken by Trees was playing on our stereo. Lulu was sitting in her high chair at the head of the table with one of us on either side, looking happy–who wouldn’t, really, after sleeping for a solid twelve hours? Breakfast to start the new year.

It looked promising.

I am not sure whether I’ve yet realized the good things that 2009 gave us. The most overwhelming one being a healthy happy daughter that is bringing an incomparable joy, allowing us to look at details of life that we wouldn’t see otherwise, were she not here. Of course, it’s been crazy and messy and challenging at times; in the early months of 2009, we missed sleep. Some days, I even cried when I felt too exhausted–especially missing to have our families living nearby. There were moments when we felt excited and slap happy. One friend once said when he spoke about this early time when a baby enters a couple’s life that “it’s as if you are divorced from reality.”

Oh yes!

I know we are extremely lucky, though. We’ve come out of the first year of Lulu’s life feeling stronger and happier.

Closer.

In 2009, one of my biggest challenges, too, was to balance raising our baby and writing my cookbook. Despite days that always seemed too short, naps that were too scarce, I don’t know how I managed but I’ve never lost my appetite to cook. I’ve never stopped to want to cook. I don’t think there was a single day passing without something being made in the kitchen. Without my hands touching and preparing food. Whether it being a hard boiled egg, a grilled sandwich — P. who is mastering the art beautifully taught me how — or a more time-involved meal with Osso Buco and Milanese risotto. Always baking a cake. Or having friends coming over for dinner. Despite the house looking untidy. And baskets of laundry waiting in the corner of the bedroom.

Life’s been full. Rewarding. Without any doubt, 2009 has been the most intense and fulfilling year of my life. Turning forty has felt enriching. I feel blessed to be able to continue to feed my passion to create foods that I believe in–that we love.

Like these rose-shaped teacakes.

I made them yesterday after we returned from an early walk to the park, to enjoy the freshly fallen snow. They made the house smell delicious and sweet. Homey. They were moist with a subtle taste of almond, quinoa and vanilla combined, enhanced with delicate Fleur de sel. We ate them while sitting on the wooden floor to build tall Lego towers with Lulu–who joyfully and swiftly knocked them down as soon as they were up–, hoping to continue the journey we’ve now started.

Better and fuller.

Healthy and happy.

A toast to all of you for a wonderful New Year ahead, with delicious foods!

I never want to forget that life is beautiful.

Bonne année!

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 !

And testing recipe ideas for our Christmas appetizer.

Are you too?

I still have to decide what we’ll eat. So I better get my act together I am curious to know what you’ll be doing.

When I was a young girl growing up in France, Sundays were often the days when my mother cooked a boeuf aux carottes (beef stew with carrots) during the winter. She’d start cooking hers early in the morning, leaving it to simmer on the stove for a few hours. The aromas of onion, sauteed meat, wine and spices made the house smell like lazy mornings and Sundays and hachis parmentier. Oh yes! She’d always make sure to prepare a large pot of stew so that she could use what was left the next day, to prepare stuffed squashes or hachis parmentier.

That thought inspired these two recipes (check the boeuf aux carottes recipe here, and the winter squashes here), which I wrote for Sunday Supper, the new food column in the Boston Globe.

I hope you’ll enjoy them as much as we did. They’re lovely meal ideas of honest traditional French food.

What my mother knows how to make so well.

I know. I am not writing a lot in this space these days, but I promise that there’s a lot of food prepared in my kitchen. I sometimes wonder how comes it disappears so quickly!

Anyway, while I am trying to find time to write something that will sound cohesive — yes, well, let’s just add that I sent my book manuscript to my editor last week, so I am feeling deflated for words — at least I can show you what we enjoyed today for dessert.

Our Sunday treat.

It’s the sweetest thing: I woke up thinking chocolate! I wanted a chocolate dessert.

The dessert was going to have a dark chocolate with character, coconut milk, and lightly sweetened meringues baked on top. I had already made chocolate creams last week and thought to bake another batch, adding a meringue on top — a lovely idea that I was inspired to try from a recipe found in a recent copy of the French food magazine Saveurs.

Swoon.

The creams were delicate and deliciously smooth. They tasted like December and snow and winter and I-want-to-make-a nest-inside. That alone made me suddenly realize that Christmas is just at the corner.

It made me think about that exact same day last year, when our beautiful bébé Lulu was born. Can it be one year ago already?

Somehow, the memory of that magical, powerful and incredible time of our life came back, leaving us emotional. I remember the pavlova I baked the day we left quietly for the hospital, and the cakes I had baked one day before.

My head is filled with those vivid images. They make us feel cozy.

Ready to enjoy this upcoming family time. In our small nest.

With chocolate.

For Lulu’s birthday.