Joanna Brady Schmida's - "Keys Cuisine"
Sunday, October 25, 2009
'Julie and Julia' Revives Interest in French Cooking

Back in the Stone Age of trendy cooking, say about 50 years ago, Americans were still eating plain food -- with the exception of immigrant homes where interesting ethnic meals were routinely served. Rich, complicated French food, with its heavy sauces, was something eaten only in tony restaurants in big cities.

Meanwhile, French housewives were whipping up gourmet food without realizing it and serving it to their oblivious families who took it for granted. That, I think, is what cookbook writer Julia Child was telling Americans: It doesn't have to be complicated; anybody can do it. It's just a way of cooking.

All she wanted to show us was how to put food together like French housewives, with ease and good taste. Sure, there's butter and wine and garlic and a splash of brandy in it, but so what? That's not hard to do. We'll deglaze the pan to make the sauce. And we'll keep the portions small but add a zesty little soup or appetizer to the mix for variety, and maybe a cheese course and a nice little dessert. Is that so difficult? And if it doesn't come out perfectly, so what? Never complain; never explain. And never, ever apologize!

Even though some of her instructions were unnecessarily verbose, what Child succeeded in doing was to demystify French cooking for us. The image of actress Amy Adams in Nora Ephron's movie "Julie & Julia," working herself to a frazzle and lying spread-eagled on the kitchen floor in desperation, was never what she had in mind. Adams' character, Julie Powell, comes across as rather a neurotic brat. It was Child who had grappled with the nuances of the French language and worked out the measurement conversions from metric in the recipes. All Julie Powell had to do was follow the directions -- in English. (And anyway, who would have tried to put 524 recipes together in 365 days? Certainly not Child!)

After her cookbook made Child a national celebrity, many Americans were attempting, quite successfully, the old French classics like boeuf bourguignon, coq au vin and cassoulet. These old chestnuts may be a bit of a yawn now, but they were certainly an improvement on the plain beef or chicken stews or pork and beans our grandmothers were making.

And while American cooks might not have tried the more complicated dishes and pastries she demonstrated, they at least became familiar with how the French cooked. This was important, because people were beginning to travel more after the 1950s and by reading and watching Julia Child, they learned to appreciate good European food. In short, she educated American taste buds as no one else had done.

I was in France this summer when the movie "Julie & Julia" opened in Paris. Since much of the movie takes place there, it was a pretty big deal, with Meryl Streep on hand, swamped with interviews by the French press.

What astonished Streep was that the French were flocking to the movie, not because of Julia Child's celebrity but to see her own performance as the kitchen diva. Streep is a very popular actress in France but very few French people had ever heard of Julia Child or her books. As Streep said to her interviewer in Le Figaro: "What surprises me is that the French don't know her at all. While for Americans, she was one of the best ambassadors of France since Lafayette!"

Since the books were primarily targeted at an American audience, they were never translated into French. Teaching French women to cook the French way is carrying coals to Newcastle. Most of the ones I've met in France don't bother with any cookbooks. Nor do they clip recipes. They just make their family specialties the way their grandmother or mother or aunts made them. It may be genetic or just imprinting from the feminine influences in their families, but a lot of them seem to cook well from a relatively young age.

Among those French chefs and restaurateurs who had heard of Julia Child in Paris, many were somewhat critical. Some said she made French cooking seem old-fashioned and stodgy, featuring those classic bourgeois dishes that are a tired cliché and not seen that often on French menus anymore.

But others, especially those who knew her, lamented the passing of those old recipes and expressed the hope that with the movie, Americans would again be led back to real French cooking. There's nothing wrong with boeuf bourguignon or cassoulet, after all.

Apart from entertainment value, what the movie may have accomplished is to tell the world what a national treasure Julia Child was and to keep alive the memory of a great lady.

Here are a couple of Julia Child's classics.

In her immortal words: Bon appétit!

Boeuf Bourguignon

6-oz piece of chunk bacon

3 1/2 tbs olive oil

3 lbs lean stewing beef, cut into 2-inch cubes

1 carrot, sliced

1 onion, sliced

salt and pepper

2 tbs flour

3 cups red wine,

2 1/2 to 3 1/2 cups brown beef stock

1 tbs tomato paste

2 cloves mashed garlic

1/2 tsp thyme

crumbled bay leaf

18 to 24 white onions, small

3 1/2 tbs butter

herb bouquet (4 parsley sprigs, 1/2 bay leaf, 1/4 tsp thyme, tied in cheesecloth)

1 lb mushrooms, fresh and quartered

Remove bacon rind and cut into sticks 1/4-inch thick and 1 1/2 inches long). Simmer rind and bacon for 10 minutes in 1 1/2 quarts water. Drain and dry.

Preheat oven to 450°. Sauté bacon sticks in one tablespoon of olive oil in a flameproof casserole over moderate heat for two to three minutes to brown lightly. Remove to a side dish with a slotted spoon. Dry beef in paper towels. Heat fat in casserole until almost smoking. Add beef, a few pieces at a time, and sauté until browned on all sides. Add it to the bacon. In the same fat, brown sliced vegetables. Pour out excess fat. Return beef and bacon to casserole and toss with 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Then sprinkle on the flour and toss again to coat the beef lightly. Set casserole uncovered in middle position of preheated oven for four minutes.

Toss the meat again and return to oven for four minutes to brown flour and cover meat with a light crust. Remove casserole and turn oven down to 325°. Stir in wine and two to three cups stock, just enough so that the meat is barely covered. Add tomato paste, garlic, herbs and bacon rind. Bring to a simmer on top of the stove.

Cover casserole and set in lower third of oven. Regulate heat so that liquid simmers very slowly for three to four hours. The meat is done when a fork pierces it easily. While beef is cooking, prepare onions and mushrooms. Heat 1 1/2 tablespoons butter with one and one-half tablespoons of the oil until bubbling in a skillet. Add onions and sauté for about 10 minutes, rolling them so they will brown as evenly as possible. Add 1/2 cup of the stock, salt and pepper to taste and the herb bouquet. Cover and simmer slowly for 40 to 50 minutes until the onions are perfectly tender but hold their shape, and liquid has evaporated. Remove herb bouquet and set onions aside.

Wipe out skillet; heat remaining oil and butter over high heat. Add mushrooms. Toss and shake pan for four to five minutes. As soon as they brown lightly, remove from heat. When meat is tender, pour contents of casserole into a sieve set over a saucepan.

Wash out casserole and return beef and bacon to it. Distribute cooked onions and mushrooms on top. Skim fat off sauce in saucepan. Simmer sauce for a minute or two, skimming off additional fat as it rises. You should have about 2 1/2 cups of sauce, thick enough to coat a spoon lightly. Correct seasonings.

Pour sauce over meat and vegetables. Cover and simmer two to three minutes, basting meat and vegetables with the sauce. Serve in casserole, or arrange stew on a platter surrounded with potatoes, noodles or rice, and decorated with parsley.

Poulet Poêlé à l'Estragon

(Casserole-roasted chicken with tarragon)

3 lbs roasting chicken

1/4 tsp salt

pepper

2 tbs butter

3 or 4 sprigs of fresh tarragon (or 1/2 tsp dried)

2 tbs butter

1 tbs oil

1/2 cup sliced onions

1/4 cup sliced carrots

1/4 tsp salt

Preheat oven to 325°. Season the cavity of the chicken with salt, pepper and one tablespoon of the butter. Insert the tarragon leaves, or sprinkle in dried tarragon. Truss the chicken. Dry it thoroughly and rub the skin with the rest of the butter.

In a heavy fireproof casserole just large enough to hold the chicken, heat the butter and oil. Lay in the chicken, breast down. Brown for two to three minutes, regulating heat so butter is always very hot but not burning. Continue to brown on all sides for 10 to 15 minutes. Don't break the skin. Add more oil and butter if necessary. Remove chicken. Pour out the browning fat if it has burned and add fresh butter.

Cook the carrots and onions slowly in the casserole for five minutes without browning. Add the salt and tarragon.

Salt the chicken. Set it breast up over the vegetables and baste it with the butter in the casserole. Lay a piece of aluminum foil over the chicken, cover the casserole, and reheat it on top of the stove until you hear the chicken sizzling. Then place the casserole on a rack in the preheated oven.

Roast for one hour and 10 to 20 minutes. Baste once or twice with the butter and juices in the casserole. Chicken is done when drumsticks move in their sockets. Remove the chicken to a serving platter and discard trussing strings.

Brown Tarragon Sauce

2 cups brown chicken stock

1 tbs cornstarch blended with 2 tbs Madeira or port

2 tbs fresh minced tarragon or parsley

1 tbs softened butter

Add stock to the casserole and simmer for two minutes, scraping up juices. Skim off all but a tablespoon of fat. Blend in the cornstarch mixture, simmer a minute, then raise heat and boil rapidly until sauce is lightly thickened. Correct seasonings. Strain into a warmed sauce boat. Stir in the herbs and butter. Serve decorated with 10 to 12 blanched fresh tarragon leaves, if desired. Sautéed potatoes and broiled tomatoes are good with this.