master the art of french cooking

Just watched the movie Julie and Julia. Loved it. Laughed out loud.

Yesterday I made my first cassoulet.

A cassoulet consists of white beans and a mound of meat so large it would shock any carnivore, cooked slowly and topped off with duck confit at serving time. Duck confit is a strange thing – the equivalent price of a whole duck, while at the same time being made just from the legs of that duck. Value added indeed. I always find duck to be disappointing, so I leave it out.

My beans have been soaking overnight as the alarm rings at 7am and I jump out of bed. The cassoulet will cook for at least 8 hours and I want to make sure that its ready in time for dinner. The beans have swollen startlingly and I realise that the recipe does indeed serve 6-8 people (at the conservative end). Onions are diced and sauteed, followed by garlic, carrot and celery, and a whole lot of pork and kolbassa. A glass of white wine deglazes the pan and I would have enjoyed the chef’s perogative, but for it sill being 8am (and the wine being a substandard gallo). Finely minced rosemary and enriched broth join the mix, the heat is set to low and the wait begins.

Its -7 outside and several inches of snow have blanketed the city overnight. No-one expected this, and people seem unsure of what to do. They have no work to go to and few errands to run, so they hunker down inside and wait for the salters to transform the pristine snow into a clinging brown slush. We buck the city trend and head out into the park and down into the ravine system. The flawless beauty of the snow creates the abstract shapes of a zen garden, and the fine crystals taste as fresh as the spring rain.

Eight hours later, the cassoulet is done. Topped with italian sausage from the market butcher and a dusting of celery leaves it makes a hearty meal for a beautiful winter’s day. It turned out pretty good.

Ever since I fell in love with someone I only halfway knew, my appetite has been completely off kilter. Consequently, I haven’t cooked much. But now that I’ve given love a fair try (for the moment), and now that autumn has brought cooler, more comfortable weather, I’ll try to do better. Next step: Taking out that Julia Child tome from the library again. That guy I asked out might never call me again, but I’ll be damned if I continue to let my stomach feel the pain. I plan to cook good food and eat well this season, man or no man.