2016年03月05日
else could get a crack at them.
For those who like to entertain, or feel themselves overwhelmed around the holidays, especially if you plan to have large gatherings, le cake is a terrific savory appetizer to go with pre dinner drinks or a glass of Calvados.
cake batter in pan cake batter in pan1
I’ve made Clotilde’s Pistachio-Chorizo Cake, and my go-to recipe for goat cheese and bacon cake is in my book, The Sweet Life in Paris. So as you can see, there’s plenty of variations and options for these savory “cakes”.
This recipe is from Susan’s book Nuts in the Kitchen, a compendium of recipes that span the globe, from Thailand to Spain, although after living here for over two decades, France is closest to her heart. And while we were cooking, we lunched on quesadillas made with tortillas brought back from Arizona Dream Beauty Pro.
(I stopped sharing precious corn tortillas that I bring back to France with French friends since they don’t get as wildly excited as the same things we Americans do, including topping sweet potatoes with marshmallows, and so forth. So we, the kitchen crew, ate pretty well that day.)
But before dinner, we’d started off with copious nibbles, which included slices of apricot, almond and lemon bread as well as toasted nuts, and crudités (raw vegetables) with a nutty dukkah. While everyone was busying themselves with snacks and glasses of bubbly cremant, I was secretly ripping away at the best bits of crispy skin on the turkey carcass before anyone else could get a crack at them .
Dinner finally ended with everyone leaving well after midnight and we sipped Calvados by the fire until the warmth of the fire lulled us to sleep, no doubt aided by the powerful apple brandy. The next morning, I was the first one up and, of course, made a nosedive into the leftover stuffing. There wasn’t much turkey skin left, the gravy had formed a solid mass in the pitcher, and I wasn’t really interested in picking at ice-cold brussels sprouts.
And there were a few slices of the apricot bread—or le cake, that I also managed to nab before anyone else woke up. It was le jour après Thanksgiving and aside from a bout of sadness earlier in the week, I was quite happy that morning to be in the toasty kitchen by the fire that was still warmly glowing in the hearth. I’m pretty sure the no one in France eats cake for breakfast, or even in America. Except for me reenex.
