1,000 Foods To Eat Before You Die: A Food Lover's Life List (28 page)

This dish is reason enough for the graceful Auberge’s three Michelin stars, which it has impressively held since 1967.

If you’re lucky enough to visit the restaurant, also be prepared to try the typically
Alsatian frogs’ legs in a cream soup, the quail stuffed with sweetbreads, and the light and mouthwatering local
knepfle
dumplings.

To make the experience complete, it’s a good idea to spend at least one night on the same beautifully planted grounds in the charming Hôtel des Berges, the Haeberlins’ guest house … and to have the whole meal over again the next day.

Where:
In Illhaeusern, France
, L’Auberge de L’Ill, tel 39/3-89-71-89-00,
auberge-de-l-ill.com
;
in New York
, La Grenouille, 212-752-1495,
lagrenouille.com
.
Further information and recipe:
latabledeschefs.fr
(click Marc Haeberlin).

Bees gathering nectar in a field of thyme.

The bees of France’s southwestern Languedoc province produce one of the world’s most highly prized and long-sought-after honeys. The delicacy was historically prized by ancient Greeks and Egyptians, who traveled far and paid dearly for it.

Collected at the time of the summer solstice—between June 21 and June 24—before blossoms dry and wither, Narbonne honey is valued for a piney, burnished, salty-sweet flavor imparted by nectar drawn from rosemary blossoms, thyme, and a few other wild herbs. Its most distinguishing feature is a crystal-clear sparkle described as “water white,” considered the premium color (or absence thereof) for honey.

Its intriguing flavor and lack of color grant the honey a place of pride in many of the region’s confections, among them a chewy, snowy nougat studded with almonds, and Languedoc biscuits crunchy with almonds and pine nuts.

As with all honeys, this one should be stored in a tightly closed jar or crock in a very warm, dry area to prevent it from absorbing moisture and expanding. If it crystallizes over time, reconstitute it by placing the jar in a bowl of hot water. (Although still completely edible, honey older than a few years is best used as an ingredient in candies, cakes, cookies, and spice breads; its flavor will be riper and less airy.)

Where:
In Narbonne
, confections made with that honey are at Pâtisserie Combot, tel 33/4-68-65-00-89.
Further information:
cooksinfo.com
(search narbonne honey).
See also:
Tasmanian Leatherwood Honey
;
Heather Honey
.

Dress up Île Flottante with a caramel lattice.

Snowy cloudlets of sweet egg-white meringue drift across sunny seas of the vanilla-scented custard sauce crème anglaise in two different versions of this fanciful, irresistible dessert. For the snow eggs—
oeufs à la neige
—high oval spoonfuls of poached, beaten whites are placed around the crème anglaise, each topped with a crackling, diaphanous net of caramelized sugar. One or two of these oval mounds becomes an individual serving.

For the more plebeian version better known in American households, Floating Island—
Île Flottante
—the meringue is baked in a soufflé mold, then turned out onto the custard sauce. A standard in American kitchens during the Fanny Farmer era, this method results in a slightly chewier, less fragile, but no less delicious alternative to its snowy relative. Austrians have their own take on this combination of meringues and custard sauce; see
Salzburger nöckerln
.

Where:
In New York
, La Grenouille, tel 212-752-1495,
la-grenouille.com
.
Further information and recipes:
The New Making of a Cook
by Madeleine Kamman (1997);
cookstr.com
(search floating islands).

A cool and elegant addition to a summer picnic.

They may be pretty enough to be used as decorative paperweights, but these shimmering eggs caught in clear golden aspic are of course far too fragile for such a purpose. Instead, adorned with tarragon leaves and dots of tomato or
pimiento, the eggs become a classy and palate-enticing first course.

As is so typical of French cuisine, the intricate preparation involved in making them requires more time than skill, along with a large helping of patience. In the beginning, there is a cooked egg. That egg must have a completely set white and a completely runny yolk. That trick can be best accomplished by simmering an egg in the shell to the
mollet
, or soft, stage. This method requires careful timing and handling so that the white does not break as the egg is peeled.

For a rich amber aspic, a strong and savory clarified beef or veal stock should be simmered with a calf or pig foot or some powdered gelatin. A little stock is poured into each egg-shaped mold, slightly chilled to set soft, and then topped with tarragon leaves and whatever other decoration will be used. The cooled egg is laid in and more stock is poured over it until the mold is filled, and then the dish is chilled until set.

Unmolded tarragon side down just before serving, the pretty combination looks its best nested on a bed of crinkly frisée lettuce.

Further information and recipes:
Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume 1
, by Julia Child, Louisette Bertholle, and Simone Beck (1961);
saveur.com
(search eggs in aspic).

They are basically poached eggs, but with a twist one might expect not only of the French but also of the wine-informed chefs of Burgundy: a poaching liquid of beef stock and red Burgundy wine. Enriched with matchsticks of bacon, wilted shallots, thyme, garlic, bay leaf, and black and cayenne pepper, the stock is reduced to a satiny shimmer after the eggs have been poached. Placed on freshly browned-in-butter toast, the eggs are mantled with their sublime sauce, after which they may be garnished with sautéed onions or mushrooms. The result is a seductive, multiflavored dish that is generally served as an appetizer, although with two eggs per portion, it’s substantial enough to be a lunch main course, perhaps with a green salad and some crisp-crusted bread. Enjoy it with a red Burgundy or lighter Beaujolais wine.

Further information and recipes:
Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume 1
, by Julia Child, Louisette Bertholle, and Simone Beck (1961);
foodnetwork.com
(search oeufs en meurette).

Although Lawrence Durrell was romantically describing Mediterranean black olives in general, had he thought about it a bit more carefully—and gastronomically—he might have singled out the tiny, mildly saline black-brown olive Niçoise. Named for the method of curing typical of the region of Nice, the tiny oval black olives offer a rich and intense ripe flavor and are pressed to make what is arguably the world’s best olive oil. Like all olives, green or black, large or small, they must be cured to be palatable, which means leaching out the mouth-puckering bitterness present in their natural state. That leaching can be done by drying the freshly picked fruit in the sun, by salting, or by marinating them in plain water, olive oil, or, as, is the case with these, in a salt brine, until they achieve a dewy, silky texture that remains reassuringly meaty.

True, the petite ovals are difficult to pit, an issue should one want to add their pungent gleam to a
salade Niçoise
, ratatouille (see
listing
), or tapenade relish without having guests choke or break their teeth. Purists wishing to preserve a firm texture skip the pitting and warn guests of those risks.

To fully understand these olives’ charms, eat them au naturel, nibbling around the pits and now and then biting into a piece of bread or a slightly dry cheese.

Mail order:
delallo.com
(search nicoise olives).
Further information and recipes:
cooksinfo.com
(search nicoise olives).

Of all the possible garnishes for an authentic French
omelette
—cheese, mushrooms, caviar, tomato, bacon, ham, spinach, potatoes—none shows off this delicate egg classic better than a verdant blend of minced fines herbes, that classic combination of parsley, chives, tarragon, and chervil. The fresh herbs lend the sprightly flavors of springtime and a lovely emerald speckling to the sun-golden pancake that is a test for so many young chefs.

If they had to pick just one dish, many haute cuisine chefs would judge their young charges by their ability to prepare an omelet. This simple dish—whose name derives from the Latin
lamella
, meaning a thin, round plate—is a perennial reminder that the pursuit of perfection involves more than meets the eye (and palate).

Making a perfect French
omelette
requires just the right number of eggs (usually three large eggs per portion) of consummate freshness. The unbroken egg should feel heavy relative to its volume, and when the egg is cracked onto a plate, its yolk should stand high and round amid a thick ring of white. Although many recipes call for a vigorous beating of the eggs, in fact they should be stirred gently and lightly broken up with a fork. Half of the fines herbes, along with salt and freshly ground black pepper, are stirred into the broken eggs. Then, the mixture is poured into a 10-inch omelet pan already glossed with hot, but not sizzling, butter. The remaining herbs are sprinkled over the top as the cook begins to pull the edges in toward the center, simultaneously tipping the pan so the uncooked portions run to its bottom.

When only a little liquid shimmer remains on its surface, the omelet is ready to be folded in thirds with a fork or a spatula and turned out onto a slightly warmed plate. The final result gives evidence of a craftsmanship that involves the hand, the eye, and even the nose in assessing the freshness of the herbs and the readiness of the melted butter just as it begins to smell nutty.

As one might guess, the technique’s apparent simplicity provokes a great deal of argument: Should the eggs be gently stirred or rapidly beaten to take in air and volume? Is a touch of cream or water desirable in the egg mixture, or is a purer result more appropriate? Should the finished omelet have a slight lacy browning on the bottom, or should it be completely yellow? And perhaps most of all in these modern times, can one prepare a proper omelet in a nonstick pan? As convenient as that may be, and as much as it decreases the need for butter, purists contend that the outsides of such omelets are slickly smooth and slightly tough. Better, they feel, to rely on the classic never-to-be-washed omelet pan, and to master the technique that makes for a more tender, slightly porous, bubbly texture.