French cooking class (part II)

With two more French cooking classes under my belt, I’m feeling sassy.

(As if I needed any more sass in my kitchen.)

Like our first two classes, we covered a lot of delicious territory.

The talented Chef Michel Maloiseau had a lot more to teach us.

We learned how to make short dough (for quiche/savory crusts and pies).

This alone has changed everything for me.

For example, with it, I made a chicken pot pie entirely from scratch the other day.

You’re impressed, I can tell.

French cooking class (part I)

When I was in Paris in 2005 (like I’ve been more than the once), I was in a lovely romantic haze.

My husband (then my boyfriend of 8 months) and I met there at the end of his European study abroad for about a week and a half.

We traveled from Paris to Nice to Bordeaux and back to Paris.

It. was. heaven.

While those were my shake-and-bake days my pre-foodie days, I appreciated everything we ate, from the simple baguettes and cheese to the croque monsieurs to the mussels in white wine sauce. 

Why it pays to be a gardener’s daughter

On my most recent trip back home to North Carolina, I got to experience the summer bounty of fresh vegetables.

And, lucky for me, I had just missed green-bean canning season.

(My sisters, however, did not. Haha.)

However, I did my fair share of garden work, picking fresh veggies and clearing out the corn patch from the raccoons chomping down in the middle of the night.

Enough, maybe, to justify the enormous amount of goodness I brought back with me.

Okay, maybe not.

My ‘garden’

My very first ripe tomato

When I was growing up (in the mountains of NC), my mom and step-dad had (and still have) a decent sized garden.

And, naturally, as one of their 6 children, it was my colonial-style duty to help dig, plant, hoe, weed, pick and can.

My sister Dee and I used to wear bikinis and sneakers hoping to at least get a tan out of the deal. (My parents were usually pretty late planters, so there was plenty of sun. Nothing like Florida, but still.)

Once, I managed to plant about three rows of onions upside-down before anyone noticed.

My mom thought it was hilarious. She laughed and laughed. I, on the other hand, the person who had to go back and dig up and re-plant said onions was not laughing.

Blog overhaul

Dear all five of you faithful readers,

After much consideration, I have decided to branch out this blog into a broader niche. Many of my favorite blogs, like The Novice Chef and Can You Stay for Dinner?, conquer new and exciting recipes one at a time without an umbrella category. And I always thought that I might broaden the blog eventually – that’s partially why I chose the name “Brave New Food.”