For a rustic treatment of potatoes and cheese, look no farther than France. There's Tartiflette (my recipe), also Aligot (my recipe), and then there's the glorious Truffade Auvergnate. The latter two dishes come from Auvergne where la France profonde (heartland) does its thing with excellent and just a few ingredients, serving up an unforgettable taste without much fuss. Truffade is gooey and substantial like another great comfort food, Macaroni and Cheese.
Sorrel, with its lemony taste, is managing to grow in our December garden. It makes a perfect topping for Truffade and per its saucy nature, mostly melts upon contact with the potatoes and cheese served piping hot from the cast iron skillet.
The cheese used traditionally in this recipe, that is, Tomme fraîche du Cantal, may be hard to come by so the very melty Comté can be substituted. I preferred Comté aged twenty months which has deep, complex flavour and welcome any opportunity to eat it. Here's an excerpt from my post on this fabulous cheese:
Ingredients
2 ample or 4 smaller servings
adapted from Sarah's Kitchen
Cut the cheese into 1 cm/.4 inch cubes and the peeled potatoes into 2 cm/.8 inch cubes. The size is important allowing the potatoes to be cooked tender within the allotted time and for the cheese to melt quickly.
Peel and crush or mince fine one fat garlic glove.
Heat the fat or olive oil in a heavy-bottomed skillet, preferably cast iron. Toss in the potatoes. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Cook for twenty minutes over a low to medium low heat. Move the taters around with a sturdy spatula, scraping underneath them, from to time.
Add garlic and stir well, getting the tiny bits mixed throughout. Cook for another five minutes or until the largest potato cube is tender and all is golden brown.
Take the pan off the heat (don't forget to turn the burner off). Crush most of the potatoes with a fork or masher. Toss in the cheese cubes, steadily stirring until cheese is melted and has coated totally the potatoes, that is, you can hardly see any potato for the cheese. You can serve as is or you can compress and shape the cheesy mass into a thick pancake with a spatula or a potato masher. It then can be browned on both sides.
Top with chiffonade of sorrel (wash, dry, trim, stack leaves, roll into a cigar shape, and slice thinly). Perhaps because I substituted Comté for Tomme fraîche du Cantal, my version resembled the New York City street food like pizza and knishes with which I grew up, meaning warming food eaten out of hand. The tremendous amount of cheese becoming one with the potato means the melty fusion passed to a stretchy, stringy state and then one of congealment so quickly that only determined fingers can take on the challenge of pulling off a chunk at least when it's served in a bowl. A challenge I met with gusto. I have since found a local source for Tomme fraîche du Cantal, the cheese used traditionally in this dish. When I remake this I will use that cheese and report back.
Any left-overs can be shaped into a pancake, put in a covered container, refrigerated, and reheated in a skillet with no additional fat. Eventually served on a plate, it was easy to cut with a knife into small pieces.
À la prochaine!
Sorrel, with its lemony taste, is managing to grow in our December garden. It makes a perfect topping for Truffade and per its saucy nature, mostly melts upon contact with the potatoes and cheese served piping hot from the cast iron skillet.
The cheese used traditionally in this recipe, that is, Tomme fraîche du Cantal, may be hard to come by so the very melty Comté can be substituted. I preferred Comté aged twenty months which has deep, complex flavour and welcome any opportunity to eat it. Here's an excerpt from my post on this fabulous cheese:
The flavour hovers between tangy and sweet tinged with caramel, and I mean hover, you're never quite sure which of those two tastes will dominate, keeping your palate awake. The texture is similar to the richest nougat, unctuous beyond belief with a touch of gooeyness before giving way to an umami cloud pervading every nook and cranny of my very fortunate mouth.
Ingredients
2 ample or 4 smaller servings
adapted from Sarah's Kitchen
- Potatoes, all-purpose, 500 g (I used Rosabelle potatoes from our potager)
- Fat, duck or goose, 1 T (I used olive oil)
- Tomme fraîche du Cantal or Comté (which I used), 200 g
- Garlic clove, large, crushed
- Salt and freshly ground pepper
- Sorrel, fresh, a small handful
Cut the cheese into 1 cm/.4 inch cubes and the peeled potatoes into 2 cm/.8 inch cubes. The size is important allowing the potatoes to be cooked tender within the allotted time and for the cheese to melt quickly.
Peel and crush or mince fine one fat garlic glove.
Heat the fat or olive oil in a heavy-bottomed skillet, preferably cast iron. Toss in the potatoes. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Cook for twenty minutes over a low to medium low heat. Move the taters around with a sturdy spatula, scraping underneath them, from to time.
Add garlic and stir well, getting the tiny bits mixed throughout. Cook for another five minutes or until the largest potato cube is tender and all is golden brown.
Take the pan off the heat (don't forget to turn the burner off). Crush most of the potatoes with a fork or masher. Toss in the cheese cubes, steadily stirring until cheese is melted and has coated totally the potatoes, that is, you can hardly see any potato for the cheese. You can serve as is or you can compress and shape the cheesy mass into a thick pancake with a spatula or a potato masher. It then can be browned on both sides.
Top with chiffonade of sorrel (wash, dry, trim, stack leaves, roll into a cigar shape, and slice thinly). Perhaps because I substituted Comté for Tomme fraîche du Cantal, my version resembled the New York City street food like pizza and knishes with which I grew up, meaning warming food eaten out of hand. The tremendous amount of cheese becoming one with the potato means the melty fusion passed to a stretchy, stringy state and then one of congealment so quickly that only determined fingers can take on the challenge of pulling off a chunk at least when it's served in a bowl. A challenge I met with gusto. I have since found a local source for Tomme fraîche du Cantal, the cheese used traditionally in this dish. When I remake this I will use that cheese and report back.
Any left-overs can be shaped into a pancake, put in a covered container, refrigerated, and reheated in a skillet with no additional fat. Eventually served on a plate, it was easy to cut with a knife into small pieces.
À la prochaine!
