Pulled Pork Sandwiches, or how I refuse to let Summer end

The weather has gotten chilly in Paris. Well, mostly rainy, but you can tell the colder days are coming. People will say that it's only normal for mid-October, but I'd rather side with all the other Parisians: as long as it's not snowing, you can still have dinner and drinks at a terrasse. Sure, you'll need to wear a jacket, but people-watching even throughout the early evening hours has the scent of summer that nobody wants to get rid of.

I'm feeling the same about cooking; while I'm starting to get excited about all the fall recipes and the cinnamon, pumpkin, and nutmeg that go along with them, I secretly long for lemonade and barbecue at the beach. When I had to plan dinner for two a few weeks ago, a barbecue at the beach is exactly what came to mind, in the form of all-American pulled pork sandwiches. Unfortunately, I don't have any red plastic baskets or sticky plastic glasses to go along with them, but it didn't stop my quest for an authentic pulled pork recipe...without a barbecue.

Ugly picture, Good food.

Slow-cooker recipes abound, but as usual, a small studio apartment doesn't really allow those kinds of folies. However, I have a great crockpot-type dish from DeBuyer that can go in and out of the oven--this was to be the stage of my pulled pork experience. I searched high and low for a good recipe, finding one with 500 comments on allrecipes.com. By the way, I always wonder how it must feel to have a near-perfect rating for your recipe and over 500 comments. Probably makes you want to write a cookbook, doesn't it?

Anyway, the recipe was for slow-cooker pulled pork, so I simply adapted it to oven cooking with my faitout. I went over to Monoprix to find "palette de porc", basically Boston butt, then to the anglo food store at République to get root beer and molasses, came home with said ingredients AND a 3 Musketeers bar, and was set to go.

One thing I forgot to mention is that the pork cooks in the root beer for approximately four hours (given the amount of pork I was cooking). And unfortunately for me, I strongly dislike root beer. My apartment being the size it is, there isn't really a way to close any door except the front door to stop the root beer smell from lingering all over the place. I put up with it, and was more than happy to find that my pork was as tender as could be and came apart without any effort at all. Once my batch of barbecue sauce was ready, I added it to the drained pork and put the crockpot on the stove, at low temp, for the remaining couple of hours.

Obviously, a pulled pork sandwich is nothing without an accompaniement. Toasted buns, a creamy yogurt coleslaw, and delicious chips were all that was needed.

I debated on whether I should buy sand and cover the floor to get that true barbecue feel, but honestly, my pulled pork meal had enough Summer infused in it.

Who needs an early Fall when you can have an endless Summer?

Oven-Cooked Pulled Pork Sandwiches
adapted from allrecipes.com serves 6

800g palette de porc, or Boston Butt
1 can root beer
Barbecue Sauce (see below)
6 toasted buns--brioche-type is best, but I used hamburger in a pinch.

Preheat oven to 130°C.
Cut large pieces of fat off the pork before cooking. Set pork in an oven-proof crockpot or faitout, and cover with can of root beer. Place lid on the dish and cook for approximately four hours.

Once pork is cooked--it should have gone from a light to a semi-dark color--drain and place pork back into the faitout. Using a fork, shred meat.
Pour barbecue sauce into the dish and mix with pork, covering and placing back into the oven for another hour.
(I started a little early, so ended up placing my faitout on the stove on low for another hour or so.)

Serve immediately with toasted buns and a side of coleslaw.

Barbecue Sauce
adapted from Cook's Illustrated makes 1 1/2 cups

1 cup ketchup
5 TB molasses
2 TB red-wine vinegar
2 TB Worcestershire sauce
2 TB Dijon mustard
1 TS hot pepper sauce
1/4 TS ground black pepper
2 TB vegetable oil
1 med garlic clove, minced
1 TS chili powder
1/4 TS cayenne pepper

Whisk ketchup, molasses, vinegar, Worcestershire, mustard, hot pepper sauce and pepper together in medium bowl.

Heat oil in saucepan over medium heat until simmering. Add garlic, chili powder and cayenne, cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Whisk in ketchup mixture and bring to boil, reduce heat to med-low and simmer gently, uncovered, until sauce is thickened, about 25 minutes. Cool sauce to room temperature before using. (Sauce can be refrigerated in airtight container for up to 1 week.)

Modified Coleslaw

1 green cabbage, shredded
1 large carrot, shredded
2 ribs celery, shredded
1/2 cup greek yogurt
1/4 cup sour cream
1 TB fresh lemon juice
1 TB red-wine vinegar
1 TB sugar
1 TB mustard
1 TS salt

Mix all ingredients for the sauce together. Add to vegetables and mix. Refrigerate for at least one hour prior to serving.

Macarons au Citron

Baking a dessert or pastry is often time consuming. There's never one step, one bowl, or one ingredient. So why do some people eat dessert in haste, as if you could just swallow the whole thing down without giving a second thought to all the ingredients you're tasting at once?

Obviously, when you're hungry and a yummy looking donut / muffin / cookie--I'll stop there, though I could pretty much include anything--is at arm's length, it's pretty easy to just go ahead and eat without thinking about anything other than the buttery goodness.

A true macaron, however, should never ever be eaten with haste. When you dig your teeth into a macaron, the top should be crunchy, with the underside of the top (that sure isn't clear) conveying a smooth almond taste. The inside of the macaron, depending on the flavor, is creamy or fruity, but always complementing the tops.

The macaron au citron, or lemon macaron (but you had that figured out), is no exception. In fact, it's always been my favorite. When you bite into it, you get the subtle tang of delicious lemons paired with the intense and smooth creaminess of the crème au citron, or lemon curd. It's an explosion of flavor in a dessert so éphémère you wish you could have hundreds more so the taste lasts longer.

Now, eating macarons is one thing. But making them yourself? You watch the oven while the tops are baking, hoping the "collerette" (the little frilly thing around them) suddenly appears. The collerette is a sure sign of good things to come, and seeing them definitely put a smile on my first-timer face. Making good macarons takes time, motivation, and an empty stomach when they're finally ready. You won't eat one or two. No way, you spent all day making them, so at least have five or six as a sort of payback.



Also, make sure everyone who has a taste goes on and on about how good they are. After all that work in the kitchen, basking in some kind of praise is like taking a long bath. Or having as many macarons as you could possibly want.

Macaron Citron by Pierre Hermé
makes approx. 72 macarons

Ingredients (sorry about the ingredients in grams, but there are some great Internet converters out there!)

for macaron tops:
300g almond powder
300g confectioner's sugar
110g "liquified" egg whites (placed in a bowl and put in the fridge for at least 72 hours before use)
0,5g golden yellow food coloring
10g lemon yellow food coloring
+
300g granulated sugar
75g mineral water
110g "liquified" egg whites

for lemon curd:
225g eggs
240g granulated sugar
8g Menton lemon zest (Menton lemons are impossible to find in the US, use organic lemons instead)
160g fresh lemon juice
350g high-quality butter
100g almond powder

- A day prior to making the macarons, prepare lemon curd. Rince and dry lemons before grating them. Rub zest and granulated sugar together with both hands.

- Mix lemon juice, zest/sugar, and eggs together in a bowl. Place bowl over a pan of simmering water. Beat until mixture is up to 83-84°C. Let it come back down to 60°C, and add butter cut into pieces. Beat until curd is smooth, and beat with a stand mixer for another 10 minutes.

- Pour curd in a large, shallow dish. Cover with plastic wrap, pressing it onto the curd. Store in fridge.

-The next day, sift confectioner's sugar and almond powder together. Add food coloring to the first bowl of "liquified" egg whites and mix. Pour onto the sugar-almond mixture, without mixing them together.

- Bring water and sugar to a boil, 118°C. When the syrup reaches 115°C, start beating second batch of egg whites with a stand mixer. Pour syrup onto the whites (which should be at soft peak stage by now), continue beating and wait until mixture is down to 50°C before incorporating it into the sugar/almonds mixture.

- Pipe mixture onto a parchment paper-covered baking sheet, making round shapes approx. 3,5cm in diameter. Space them approximately 2cm apart from one another.

- Tap baking sheet on kitchen counter, and let macaron tops crust for at least 30 minutes. Preheat oven to 180°C / 350°F. Bake tops for 12 minutes, opening oven door twice. After removing them from the oven, place parchment paper on counter or table.

- Mix lemon curd with the remaining almond powder. Pipe onto half of the macaron tops, covering them with the remaining tops.

- Place macarons in the fridge for 24 hours, bringing them back to room temperature for 2 hours before eating.


I seriously recommend getting Pierre Hermé's book on macarons: it has a great step-by-step of how to make them perfect, and following all the instructions apparently pays off! You can get it here, but I couldn't find it in English--maybe it hasn't been translated yet?

Peanut Butter Cookies and a Glass of Milk

I'm slowly developing an addiction to cookbooks, which I think pretty much everyone in my family has realized. Lucky for me, they hit the spot every time they pick out a new book.

For Christmas, I got the reprint of Betty Crocker's original Cooky Book from 1963, retro images and all. Paging through it makes me feel like I'm in the sixties, trying to find a cooky (not a cookie, no no) to go along with a Jell-O ring or some other weird sixties specialty. You can find the cookbook here, and it's full of fun and easy cookie recipes. While you're on the Wiley website looking at the book, buy Water in Buildings by William B. Rose!

For my first recipe from the book, I decided to try my hand at a classic that I hadn't had in years--the peanut butter cookie. Ahhh, the peanut butter cookie. The American classic, made to be scarfed down with a cold glass of milk. The thing is, I don't really like milk unless it's chocolate milk. I take that back--I like a cold glass of milk (the cliché that never dies), but only if it's American, bad-for-you milk. Oh I know, I should be happy I have delicious hormone-free French milk to indulge in. Which I do, with a good dose of Van Houten chocolate powder and sugar. But the cold glass of milk is never going to happen in France. I'll admit it: I do not like the taste of real milk.

Now that I've gotten that taboo out of the way, I will add that a true PB cookie has not only a glass of milk by its side, but the signature crosshatch pattern everyone had fun doing when they were children. Alright, I might have spent more time eating the cookies than crosshatching them when I was little, but I'm just adding to the story here.

All this to say that the Peanut Butter Cooky--or Cookie, as you wish--is quite probably the madeleine de Proust of many Americans. It may remind you of coming home from school to a warm batch of cookies, grabbing one and feeling it melt in your mouth, or licking the spoon from the peanut butter jar.

Yes, I added chocolate to the milk after the picture.

To put it in the words of Betty Crocker:

"Think back...how many happy family memories are bound up with the tradition of the cooky jar? (...) the traveling businessman discovering a packet of favorite cookies tucked in his luggage..."

Does anyone else just felt like they were just thrown into a pistachio green Formica kitchen with ladies in pastel colors? Oh, Betty Crocker...


The cookies were, pretty unsurprisingly considering the lengthy success of this book, really good. I baked them a little less longer than the recipe indicated for my second batch, and they were perfect. With or without milk.

Peanut Butter Cookies
"a favorite with men and children"
makes about 36 cookies

1/2 cup shortening (I used butter)
1/2 cup peanut butter
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 egg
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 TS baking powder
3/4 TS soda
1/4 TS salt

- Mix shortening (butter), peanut butter, sugars, and egg thoroughly. Measure flour by dipping method or sifting. Blend all dry ingredients; stir into shortening (butter) mixture. Chill dough.

- Heat oven to 375°F. Roll dough in 1 1/4" balls. Place 3" apart on lightly greased baking sheet. Flatten crisscross style with fork dipped in flour.

- Bake 10 to 12 minutes (might be because of the butter, but I'd recommend 8 to 9 minutes for them to be chewy).

Maman's Almond French Toast

I've always been a pancake kind of girl.

Hardly cooked--with the runny center--and drenched in maple syrup is the way I like them best. There was a point in my life where I wished I could eat pancakes for breakfast every weekend. That is, until I went home to Urbana this summer.

I always liked French toast, but it was never really a love story. French toast never left me with that feeling I get after eating one too many pancakes, because I always end up eating one too many, where I lean back and sigh happily about my sticky fingers and empty plate.

Back in Urbana, I woke up on a sunny morning and made my way downstairs. There's nothing I like quite as much as waking up for breakfast at home. For some reason, it feels just right and makes me want to stay there, seated at our counter, until the end of the year. This time, I'd have to add "until the end of the year with a plate of almond French toast". This French toast is like no other: you know that feeling you get where you wish it was just a little juicier? Well, this one is drenched in a decadent mix of milk and cream, and the slivered almonds and almond extract bring the taste up to something totally crazy.



The good thing about Maman's French toast is that it's rich--and I've never really liked a breakfast/brunch dish that left me pining for more. Rich enough, however, that you could even serve it as dessert after a light meal. Basically, if you count the goûter or four o'clock snack, this French toast can be eaten four different times during the day. And that, in my opinion, means four different moments of pure happiness.

Maman's Almond French Toast
serves 4

- 8 slices of brioche
- 3 eggs
- 2 pinches salt
- 3 TB sugar
- 1/4 TS vanilla extract
- 1/4 TS almond extract
- 1 1/4 c. whole milk
- 1/4 c. heavy cream
- unsalted butter, for cooking
- 1 c. sliced almonds

Heat griddle. In a medium bowl, whisk eggs.

Add salt, sugar, vanilla and almond extracts.

Gradually whisk in milk and cream, and pour mixture into a shallow baking dish.

Place bread in the dish and let soak 3 minutes on one side, turn it over and let the other side soak for about a minute.

Butter the griddle, and let the butter bubble.

Just before placing the bread on the griddle, place almonds in a single layer in the shape of brioche slices.

Press one side of bread into the almonds and cook until golden brown, about 4 minutes.

Flip bread to other side and cook another 3 to 4 minutes.

Serve hot with maple syrup.