Omelette aux Fines Herbes

A forgotten classic is what this recipe is. A dish so well known yet so rarely made these days. For me, its existence had almost faded from my memory until a discussion I was having with my brother about the whole blog thing brought it back to light. My brother, S, is the kind of person who is very knowledgeable about food and possesses a very discerning palate. A true epicure who knows the recipe of anything from crème patissière to pâte feuilletée, can explain in detailed steps how to make petits pains au chocolat yet has never really put la main à la pâte. Our little discussion brought me the insight I was looking for when I candidly asked him what I should make next for the blog and he responded even more candidly: "have you ever made omelette aux fines herbes?"

How could I have not? How could I have forgotten about such a classic favorite? What happened to my memory for so many years?

Omelette aux Fines Herbes Recipe

1 serving

2 large eggs
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper
1/2 tablespoon minced tarragon
1/2 tablespoon minced chives
1/2 tablespoon minced parsley

1 teaspoon unsalted butter

Whisk the eggs well in a medium bowl. Season with salt and pepper. Add the tarragon, chives and parsley and whisk some more.

Melt the butter in a medium non-stick frying pan over medium heat until it sizzles. Add the eggs and spread them evenly by lightly twirling the pan. Cook until the omelet is set and all (or most) liquid is gone, about 1 minute.

Bleu et Blanc

Blue waters, blue sky

White houses

Pretty girls in matching colors

And gâteaux on blue and white plates


And so have my dreams been imbued with hues of blue and white ever since...






This was in Temara, right outside of Rabat, on the Atlantic Ocean.

Salade Niçoise Recipe

My vacation is over and I am back to my routine but I still have some pictures along with adventures to share about my trip.

In our relentless effort to escape the heat, we had lunch a few kilometers outside of Marrakesh at a restaurant by the pool to get some "pool air" for lack of ocean air. For lack of any air really. It may sound far-fetched but it did really cool us off. Maybe it was all in our mind. Maybe the sight of water alone was enough to milden the canicule.

To start, we had salade niçoise; a Moroccan version of it anyway made with mayonnaise vinaigrette and added carrots and corn. Then we had a sizzling chicken tagine with olives and preserved lemons served with Berber flatbread and mint tea. My daughter swam and played on the swing and marveled at the caged peacocks on the way out.

A few days ago, I made salade niçoise for dinner. A substantial salad that I'd gladly make a meal of anyday. Complete with vegetables, protein and starch, it makes a wonderful dinner especially for the remaining days of summer ahead.



Salade Niçoise Recipe

2 servings

For the salad
2 medium red skin potatoes, peeled, halved and sliced
2 cups fresh green beans, trimmed and cut into 2-inch pieces
2 cups romaine lettuce, torn into pieces
1 can tuna, drained
1/2 cup pitted black olives
1 tomato, cut into wedges
3 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and halved or quartered


For the vinaigrette
1 teaspoon white wine vinegar
1 teaspoon mustard
1 shallot, minced (optional)
sea salt and freshly ground pepper
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

Place the sliced potatoes in a pot and cover with salted water. Cook over medium high heat until the potatoes are tender, 10 to 15 minutes. Transfer the potatoes to a colander and let drain and cool a few minutes.

Bring a small pots of salted water to a boil over high heat. Add the green beans and blanch them, 3 to 6 minutes, depending on their thickness. Shock them by putting them in ice water. Drain in a colander.

Prepare the vinaigrette by whisking the vinegar with the mustard, minced shallot, salt and pepper. Slowly add the olive oil and continue whisking to emulsify.

Arrange the lettuce on a plate and drizzle it with about 1/4 of the vinaigrette. Top the lettuce with the potatoes, green beans, tuna, olives, tomato wedges and eggs. Drizzle the whole salad with a couple of spoonfuls of vinaigrette. Serve it with extra vinaigrette on the side.

Almond and Sesame Cookies

Among the lovers of almond meal I am the most passionate. The first time I made these cookies with my mom as a child there was no such thing as almond meal in our grocery store. I believe there still isn't. We bought our almonds, blanched, peeled and ground them to a powder. The process was lengthy but well worth it. Now that I'm able to use almond meal, these cookies take me five to ten minutes to make. And I'm not the fastest person you'd ever meet.

When I saw these cookies in Nadji's blog, saveurs et gourmandises, in their original cornes de gazelle shape, I was inspired. I felt a need, a necessity, an imminent life or death urgency to make them. So I made them, completely changing the shape but only slightly the ingredients. They were as good as those I had in my childhood, those I shaped with my mother a million different ways.


Gluten-Free Almond and Sesame Cookies Recipe

Makes 16 cookies

2 cups almond meal (available at WF)
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Pinch salt
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted (or coconut oil)
1/4 cup honey
2 teaspoons orange blossom water
1/2 cup white sesame seeds, lightly toasted

In a large bowl, combine the almond meal, cinnamon and salt together. Stir in the butter, honey and orange blossom water. The mixture should be moist enough to shape between your hands. Form into small balls, the size of a walnut. Roll each almond ball into sesame seeds.

Serve with hot mint tea or spiced coffee.

Refrigerate leftovers.

Harira Recipe

This is one of the very first recipes I posted on this blog back in October. The reason is that it's a soup that I've always loved. Chunky, rich and delicious, it is the quintessential Moroccan soup. I couldn't wait long to post it.

With millions of people celebrating Ramadan this month and through mid-September, I thought I'd post it again. Consuming it during this season is customary in Morocco but hey, who needs a reason or a season to make a hearty soup.

Chickpeas, lentils, eggs, celery, tender cubes of beef make up this flavorful soup. Finish it up with a generous squeeze of lemon juice and serve it with mellifluous dates for a most authentic Moroccan meal.

To all who are celebrating, happy fasting! To all who are not, happy feasting!

Bessaha!

Click here for the recipe.

Marrakesh After Dark

I've always discouraged friends to go to Marrakesh in the summer yet I did. It was hot, a furnace of dry heat. The kind of heat that strips you of your energy and makes you think of Siberia as paradise on earth. Besides a few trips to the pool, I mostly stayed indoors, reading. And waiting for the sun to set so I can set foot outside.



Along the main boulevard we walked

Past the mosque

Heard live music

And the sound of splashing water

Found a table nearby

Under the sunset and an olive tree

Refreshed at last

Dusseldorf: More Than Beer and Pretzels

It is true that its altstadt is considered the longest bar in the world and its beers are some of the finest.

It is true that people were drinking ginormous mugs of beer glistening like gold in the early morning sun for breakfast.

But it is more, much more than that.

Heinrich Heine, the German poet who once described his love for his lover as more precious than the treasures of the sea and the lights that spatter the heavens above, lends his name to the old part of town. As I walked the still sleepy allees cafes were preparing to open. A couple of bars were serving a group of musicians in uniform practicing for the afternoon fun fair and procession in celebration of the patron saint St. Apollinaris. Everything else was closed. I stopped at the St. Lambertus church and peeked at its impressive ceilings through the half-opened door, slowly daring to push it open, my chin ahead of me, my head leaning forward to sniff the presence of another soul. I was alone. I could have felt like it was all mine. Instead I felt like it owned me. It was majestic. It was awe-strikingly beautiful.

Past a statue of a mother carrying her child I continued, briskly walking the quiet streets, my eyes moving back and forth between the map in my hands and the street names trying to locate the museum of modern art. A very friendly bunch at an outdoor bar graciously showed the way then continued its jovial chatter.

Bratwursts, kochwursts, blutwursts, liverwursts, stuffed pretzels, pretzel sandwiches, pretzel pizzas, spaghetti ice cream. The food at the street fair smelled of baked bread and grilled meat. I grabbed chicken skewers and made it just in time for the one o'clock boat ride on the Rhine. I struggled to stay attentive to the voice explaining the tour. Between the German accent and the poor sound system, all I managed to understand was that Dusseldorf had the largest Japanese community in the world outside of Japan and was called Japan's capital in Europe. Even that I might have gotten wrong. I gave up. I fell asleep to the sound of the water.