La Crique Ardéchoise...and the first potato harvest of the season

The potato pancakes as presented by various Ukrainian restaurants located close to the New York City apartment in which I lived when a young working lass were not memorable. The ones I made in my own compact kitchen at that time were not much more noteworthy, though the homemade apple sauce adorning them was fantastic. I put mountains of this 'condiment' on my serving similar to the way the little girl who I once babysat would not only smother flapjacks with maple syrup, but also would tip her plate and slurp down the syrup while asking for seconds, that is, just of the sweet, sticky liquid. But potato pancakes need not be so embarrassed as to cover their face; they can be crusty, delicious, and lovely while leaving the sour cream/apple sauce facial masque for their grey, soggy counterparts.

When living in Grenoble, we were able easily to visit the departement of Ardeche which was about an hour's drive away. Though we did not partake in its well known, dinner-plate-sized, speckled-with-parsley-and-garlic potato galette while there, I will never forget what a beautiful area it is -- a breathtaking, gorgeous landscape combination of the British Peak District and the foothills of the Alps.

In our potager, Dolwen, a primeur potato, has just started to be harvested. Uncommon for an early variety, its texture is closer to an all-purpose potato, rather than the usual firmer/moisture-rich one best used for only salads and steaming.

One of the seventy-five potato plants I managed to get in the ground this season!

Therefore it can be made into soup, au gratin, smashed or mashed potatoes, salad, not to mention steaming the smallest in their pretty jackets, then drenching them with butter, and finally sprinkling the dainty ovals with fresh, minced flat-leaf parsley and fleur de sel.

The smaller ones are reserved for steaming

If dug right from the ground, make sure you give them a good scrubbing. For one generous serving or for two smaller ones, gather two large all-purpose potatoes, several small parsley sprigs (remember to save one for garnishing), one garlic clove, one tablespoon of extra-virgin olive oil, one tablespoon of butter, black pepper mill, and salt.

All three ingredients are from our potager!

Using the proper hand/electric tool, finely grate the peeled potatoes onto a plate.

The world's greatest hand grater which stores various inserts in itself.

Squeeze out as much liquid as possible into a bowl. I use my well washed hands to do this, but the grated potatoes can be pressed against a wire-mesh sieve or wrung out in a clean tea towel. They will be much dryer, with more separate strands, and a bit fluffy. Put them in a medium-sized mixing bowl.

They will look more like a pile of grated cheese when dry enough.

Let the potato liquid sit a few minutes until it is mostly clear. Finely mince the garlic and parsley.

This is not a beaten egg!

Carefully pour off the watery top layer into the sink, reserving the white, thick starch at the bottom which will take the place of an egg for a binding ingredient.

Any grated potato that made its way into the liquid will settle to the bottom

Add the starch along with the minced parsley, garlic, salt, and freshly ground black pepper to the grated potatoes. Mix well with a wooden spoon.

Heat the oil and butter over medium-high heat in a medium-sized heavy skillet for a few minutes until very hot. The bottom should be covered lightly with the fat mixture. Using enough oil (to raise the smoking point)/butter (for taste!) is essential for developing a delectable crust.

Put the potato mixture into the pan, flattening out the pile into a pancake the size of the fry pan with the use of a large wooden spoon or a spatula.  This method of using all available skillet real estate when making one large pancake is a clever approach. Over medium-low heat, cook for about twelve minutes. Be sure to refrain from covering the pan during cooking as it will be more steamed than sauteed.

The grated potato will begin to get opaque and 'melt'

From time to time, flatten and even it out with a spatula while neatening the edges.

Check occasionally to see how the under crust is developing, adding more oil/butter if deemed necessary for pronounced crisping.

At this stage it likely will be too soft and flexible to flip over using most spatulas. Take the skillet from the heat, and while firmly holding in place the right-sized plate over it, turn the apparatus upside down. Voilà! The crique should now be on the plate, browned side up. If it has ungratefully folded itself during this procedure, try your best to unfold it as gently as possible. Put another plate of the same size on top and flip again, uncooked side is now up.

Put the skillet over the plate and flip this apparatus upside down. The crique, unbrowned side down, should now be in the pan! Cook for another twelve minutes.

Loosen with a spatula and slide the galette onto an attractive plate. Cut into fours -- I used a pizza cutter to do this. Since I forgot to reserve some parsley for garnish, some fresh dill graciously subbed for it.

Crunchy and succulent with each bite, a savoury crique is traditionally served with a salad or as a side for meat. If a heftier pancake is desired with a greater proportion of succulence to crunch, then use a smaller skillet or increase the amount of potato along with the parsley and garlic. More time will be required. But don't forget to nurture the crust regardless.

À la prochaine!

Linguine with Olive Oil, Green Onions, Fresh Dill & Tuna...and cherries galore

Thank goodness for canned tuna! Both The Calm One and I have been fighting nasty colds. Our valiant battle has put us in a state of suspended animation though still capable of being hungry. That's when the shiny, little tin of tasty fish, gleaming its presence from a cupboard which is looking less stocked as time goes on and the crumpled Kleenex pile up, said in that influential tone tuna is known to have, choose ME to put in your pasta! 

This past February, I planted onion sets close together, one or two inches apart, so I could harvest scallions (green/spring onions) starting around April which I have being doing with a marked air of delight. Pulling them this young not only gives us some greens but also allows the others to mature into fat onions. Happily a few dill seedlings volunteered from last year's planting, so some of their tiny, feathery fronds were also picked. While the linguine is cooking, lightly saute chopped scallions and fresh dill in some olive oil for a minute.

Add the drained tuna and some of the pasta cooking water. Break up the fish with a wooden spoon. Simmer for a minute or two, while stirring here and there.

Toss in the slightly underdone pasta, letting it finish cooking while the sauce thickens, about a minute or two.

Serve immediately and season to taste with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Nourishing and tasty fare for sure, but also its fresh greenness cheered this mostly house-bound gardener, reminding me of the bounty waiting outdoors.

Le ceresier chez Monsieur and Madame M is gloriously burdened with so much fruit that generous donations of its plenty have been made to nearby households, including chez nous.

Make a wish for a vie en rose!

Our capacious yellowware batter bowl was perfect to accommodate the juicy, sweet abundance.

In addition, The Calm One and I were recently invited to have our way with this laden-down tree.

Left side of bowl!

On the allotted day, The Calm One ventured forth on his own as I was still cloué au lit (nailed to the bed). So far what he has picked we are enjoying just as is, but who knows, a claufoutis may be in our future.

Right side of bowl!

My cold being the tenacious kind that occurs in the spring has allowed me the energy to get just the peppers transplanted. The melons, cucumbers, winter squash, among the remaining re-potted seedlings, are suffering the most despite being in larger containers. I apologise each time I hobble onto the patio, saying in a soothing voice, my little ones, you will soon spread your roots.

The garden about a week ago when it still had a full-time gardener!

À la prochaine!

Another Quick Pasta Recipe...and an unexpected pokeweed eradication method

Tagliatelle sauced with some cream, tomato paste, thyme, and garlic is quite delicious especially topped with freshly grated Parmesan cheese.

While the pasta is cooking, prepare the sauce. For one large serving, I lightly covered the bottom of a medium fry pan with cream, adding a minced garlic clove, a large pinch of fresh thyme, and two tablespoons of tomato paste.

Add several tablespoons of pasta cooking water and stir well.

Drain slightly underdone pasta and put in the pan. Gently cook and stir until sauce is thick and the tagliatelle is thoroughly coated which will take a minute or two. Season with salt and freshly milled black pepper.

The pasta finishes its cooking in the sauce

Serve immediately, layer on the Parmesan cheese, and garnish with a thyme sprig.

The subtitle of this post easily could have been how the tree of heaven has become the tree of hell or perhaps even hounded by a foul-smelling weed tree from America to France.  This tree was the only spot of green in the concrete yard of my childhood New York City home. A born gardener without any plot to garden, I would hang out by that impossible tree, impossible because its ten-feet length grew out of an inch-wide cement crack. Therefore, its unusual 'fragrance' of rotting cashews was locked into my olfactory memory and was the reason why I was able to identify it finally after all these decades. This species is the one featured in the novel A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Looking on the bright side, they have laid to rest the poisonous and equally nearly impossible-to-eradicate pokeweed.

This one is about twelve feet tall

The two trees, both males as shown by their flat, white flower caps, are growing in our garden's wild area -- they have grown about four feet in a couple of months, a growth rate allowing them to reach forest canopies which leaves their competitors in the dust. How to get rid of them? I am going to lower their height so they get hardly any light which means I will need to trespass into the starling sanctuary, that is, the mass of brambles, to chop down the usurpers to suitable stumps or else we soon will be looking at a ninety-foot-tall grove which smells like a ripe compost pile. Since they not only spread by seed but also by re-sprouting roots when they are cut, this may happen anyway!

One of the two can be seen on the right, sticking up from the brambles

The peonies which I cut when they were nice fat buds are now fully opened.

That green blur in the lower right is a bit of fennel

The fennel makes a lovely flower arranging ingredient, not only because of its feathery form but also because of its pleasing, fresh scent. If I don't keep trimming it back it will grow to a towering eight feet.

The early season tomatoes are beautiful, husky plants that are giving out their first flower trusses.

There's a tiny, green tomato hidden by the yellow flower

These plants are now staked

The twenty-five late season seed potatoes are finally planted! I just barely got them done in time. These are storage potatoes and need about five months to develop which means a harvest is possible about mid-October, hopefully before any frost arrives.

The twenty five bring the grand total of all potatoes planted to seventy-five!

Perennial geraniums are lovely ground covers.

These pink ones are giving sedum, red dianthus, and abelia some serious space competition. They are about two years old and looking ready for division. Good news! There are pronounced weedy areas that need to be overrun with these beauties.

I have just a couple of days to get the remaining transplants -- melon, cucumbers, butternut squash, peppers, lovage, zinnas -- in the ground. The Calm One though only seen in the garden by appointment will help out in other ways like making lunch. His culinary repertoire may be limited to a few items, but he makes those dishes very well. The best cheese omelettes I have ever had are his as they are always tender and never rubbery since he patiently cooks it for nearly ten minutes over low heat, all the while gently lifting up the edges to let the still liquid bits spill underneath while the grated cheese melts. He then easily folds the omelette in thirds as he is flipping it onto a plate. I suspect bicep power is behind such skillful manipulation of the very heavy, cast-iron skillet.

He also does not spare the cheese!

When I am particularly frazzled by a demanding gardening schedule, The Calm One is wont to surprise me with a pain au chocolat noisette from a nearby boulanger. I feel immensely energised after eating one of those puffy, dusted-with-icing-sugar, filled-with-dark-chocolate-and-hazelnut-butter wonders. Who wouldn't?

À la prochaine!

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How to plant potatoes

The First Strawberries of the Season...and peonies & more roses!

It's looking like the strawberry harvest will not be as abundant as last year's, but still what a treat to have gariguettes straight from the garden and crowned with freshly whipped, sugared cream or as it's called here, crème chantilly.

To prevent the berries from getting waterlogged when washing them, rinse them before you remove the stem.

Gariquettes have the most fantastic taste and gorgeous fragrance. In addition, their 'belly button' is an outie so slicing off that end is an easy task.

The Calm One who is the official whipper of cream chez nous saved me some for topping my hot cocoa later on in the day. Though the seventy-five seed potatoes and twenty-eight tomatoes are in the ground, the melon, pepper, winter squash, cucumber, zinnia, and black-eyed Susan vine transplants not only still need to be done but done within the next week along with outdoor sowing of green beans, carrots, and beets. So I have been hitting the hot cocoa hard. You know, for stamina. Those spring winds can be quite nippy.

Peonies usually don't do that well in our garden because of the heat and lack of rain, but with this constant moisture they are luxuriant.

This variety has a fragrance reminiscent of both lilacs and roses.

The lavender in the foreground is showing a hint of colour

For cut flowers, I choose buds just beginning to open.

These were picked during a rainy twilight

The next morning, they were put into a vase and accented with fennel. Though I use this herb for pickling, I am beginning to think that its best application is in flower arranging.

They eventually will unfold their petals in the captivating way that peonies have.

The only yellow rose in our garden is Golden Showers, a climber that puts out tremendous clusters of blooms.

The purple-pink background is a mass of soapwort

The Queen Elizabeth hedge rose is reaching for the sky...

...while the calla lilies are increasing in number at its base.

A bourbon rose, Ferdinand Pichard, is just starting its first flush of blooming.

A single petaled white rose, though not a repeat bloomer, is stunning in simplicity of flower form and graceful, arching branches.

White roses amply sandwiched between glads and red roses.

A rugosa, semi-double rose, which is also not a repeat bloomer, is gorgeous because of colour changes -- the deep orange buds open into coral flowers which than fade to pink.  All the while, yellow warms the centre.

Falstaff, a David Austin climber, is finishing up its first blossoming session.

Crossroad: purple culinary sage, sweet violets, ivy, Falstaff rose, pink and white Dianthus

À la prochaine!