Once more, I found myself grappling with an abundance of fruit. While I relish the arrival of pears and apples heralding autumn, my heart longs to cling onto the essence of summer. The sight of luscious nectarines, succulent peaches, and juicy plums lingering at the market beckons me irresistibly. With meticulous care, I fill my market basket to its limits, ensuring the fragile fruits are nestled snugly to prevent any bruising, and then embark on the journey home, laden with nature's vibrant treasures.
Plums hold a special place among my favorite fruits. The French varieties, like the petite, golden mirabelles and the rich Reine Claudes, boast a sweetness that envelops my palate in a delightful plum nectar with each bite, leaving me eager for more even before I've finished the one I'm savoring.
While I typically reserve these plums for snacking due to their perfect sweetness, I tend to opt for the sharper, purple plums when baking tarts and crisps. There's something about the interplay of tangy and sweet in baked purple plums that I find irresistible. However, my culinary adventure led me to embrace the French essence wholeheartedly, inspiring me to craft a flaugnarde with these golden delights. Originating from Périgord and akin to clafoutis, flaugnardes often conjure images of pears (at least in my mind). Yet, within the pages of The French Menu Cookbook by Richard Olney, I stumbled upon a recipe featuring prunes and raisins, urging me to delve into the true essence of French indulgence.
This enlightening book, meticulously researched by Justin Spring, delves into a trove of letters and historical documents. I had the pleasure of meeting Justin during the nascent stages of his writing journey when he ventured to France to immerse himself in the topic and its vibrant characters. As the book neared completion, Justin hinted that I would encounter several eyebrow-raising revelations within its pages, and indeed, he was right.
The work sheds light on notable errors and imperfections within Fisher's "The Cooking of Provincial France" for the Time-Life Foods of the World series. One such flaw was the assertion that "French cooking means an elaborate and expensive way of complicating or at least masking food with sauces." Many aspects discussed in the book were meticulously footnoted in the French edition to ensure accuracy.
The dynamic between Julia Child and Richard Olney was marked by a nuanced rivalry. Julia found herself at odds not only with her friend and co-author, Simone Beck, but also with Olney, who shared Beck's concerns regarding the "Americanization" of French cuisine. Additionally, the book unveils the poignant tale of Alice B. Toklas, who endured near-poverty following the passing of her partner, Gertrude Stein. Despite residing amidst a collection of paintings by esteemed artists like Matisse and Picasso, Toklas faced a less-than-gracious treatment from Stein's brother, who inherited their possessions.
If you're eager to delve deeper into the lives of six culinary icons whose influence resonates across generations of cooks in America and beyond, "The Gourmands' Way" comes highly recommended.
Thanks to Justin's compelling book, I've found myself revisiting the pages of Olney's "The French Menu Cookbook." It's challenging to capture the sheer eloquence of his food writing; arguably the pinnacle of our era. Despite his passing in 1999, Olney's prose continues to captivate. Each recipe reads like a personal conversation, brimming with both simplicity and sophistication, offering guidance with unwavering assurance and precision. Olney's approach to cooking urges readers to engage their senses, imparting invaluable lessons about French cuisine with remarkable brevity.
Yet, alongside his brilliance, Olney's sharpness and hint of disdain occasionally surface, adding a distinctive flavor to his recipes. Consider his instructions for Roast Guinea Fowl, where he begins by cautioning, "All roasting birds, if they haven't already been mangled by the butcher..." Here, Olney subtly suggests that one's butcher might lack expertise, hinting at his own superior knowledge with a touch of wry humor.
In his prelude to the flaugnarde, Olney offers a cautionary note to both cooks and dinner hosts, advising that those accustomed to raised pastries might initially find the custardy texture and somewhat leathery skin peculiar. Yet, he assures that its unadorned sincerity seldom fails to captivate.
Within these two sentences lies a wealth of contradiction, yet they encapsulate the inherent charm of this traditional French dessert, celebrated for its distinct texture unlike that of a typical cake or torte—a testament to Olney's culinary finesse. It proved to be the ideal canvas for showcasing my plums, uncomplicated yet utterly delightful. In less than 15 minutes, I effortlessly prepared this dish, debunking the notion of French cuisine being inherently elaborate and costly. By the time we concluded our dinner, we indulged in a warm dessert, embodying the essence of simplicity and satisfaction.
Plum Flaugnarde :
Derived from The French Menu Cookbook by Richard Olney, here's a versatile recipe for a delightful flaugnarde. Feel free to customize it according to your preferences and dietary needs. If you prefer not to use alcohol, simply add a hint of almond extract for flavor. For those avoiding gluten, gluten-free flour mixes can be a suitable alternative. While the original recipe calls for whole milk, substituting heavy cream adds a luxurious touch and enhances the texture. You can also experiment with different fruits like blackberries, raspberries, cherries, apricots, or nectarines, though juicy fruits like peaches might not be ideal. Pears and prunes soaked in Cognac, as suggested by Olney, offer classic options.
Here's how to make it for 4 servings:
Ingredients:
- - 12 ounces (350g) plums, pitted and thickly sliced
- - 3 large eggs, at room temperature
- - 1/2 cup (70g) all-purpose flour
- - 1/4 cup (50g) sugar, plus 1 teaspoon for sprinkling over the finished dessert
- - 1/4 cup (60ml) heavy cream
- - Pinch of salt
- - 3/4 cup (180ml) whole milk (or 1 cup/250ml whole milk)
- - 1 1/2 tablespoons kirsch, or another eau-de-vie, Cognac, brandy, or dark rum
- - 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Instructions:
1. Preheat the oven to 400ºF (200ºC). Butter a 6 to 8 cup (1,75l) baking or gratin dish, or a large pie plate generously. Arrange the sliced plums over the bottom of the baking dish.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, flour, 1/4 cup sugar, heavy cream, salt, and about one-third of the milk until the mixture is smooth. Gradually whisk in the remaining milk, kirsch, and vanilla extract.
3. Pour the custard mixture over the plums in the baking dish. Bake on the middle rack of the oven for about 20 minutes, or until the custard is just set in the center.
4. Remove from the oven and place on a cooling rack. Sprinkle 1 teaspoon of sugar over the top and allow it to cool slightly.
5. Serve the flaugnarde warm or at room temperature on the same day it's made for the best taste. It can be enjoyed cold, but according to Olney, it may not be as flavorful.
Feel free to experiment with different fruit combinations and enjoy this delicious dessert!