I have decided that I want to learn more about our mother's recollections of the time our family spent in Paris, France in the 1070's. Each chance we speak now I bring this up and ask her to think about that time and share any memories with me that occur to her during our conversation. She had two or three for me this evening which I jotted down and which I want to share now with you all. They are pretty funny and interesting and I think that you will all enjoy at least one of them. They all revolve around food because I asked her to remember what she would make for our family ( including my two younger brothers ) when my father and I would come home from our neighborhood - arrondisement hunting as it were - foraging - searching for just the right wine(s) to enjoy that special and specific evening!
Our mother got to be a really excellent cook while we lived in the 16th arrondisement at 63 Avenue Paul Doumer across the Seine river and just a ten minute walk up the winding streets of Passy and others away from the Tour Eiffel.
I will be paraphrasing my mother as she spoke quickly and I had to find scraps of paper in our living room to jot down her words :
" Living in Paris any one could serve filet mignon. A good cook had to be able to cook something that tastes good and is cheap. Good, cheap and imaginative that looked good on the plate. I used to have a cook book full of recipes. I don't know where it is. I don't know even if I still have it. I won't be needing it much now anyway.
You and your father brought back a box of frogs' legs from Bourgogne. I put them in a big frying pan - they jumped all over the frying pan - repulsive , but they tasted good ! " and she laughed whole-heartedly at this last remark. " That's the kind of thing you can't do in America. Not fresh frogs' legs. These frogs were raised in Bourgogne, not in America. We don't raise frogs' legs! ... cooking them ... that's the kind of thing that you do in a chafing dish ".
This story about the box of Frogs' legs was my mother's second story.
The first was about cooking meatballs stuffed with blue cheese and then covered in a sauce of cranberry jelly-turned-to-thick-juice. She insisted that it was great and that both my brothers loved it as well as many of our guests. She could not remember if I loved it or not or had even had it as I lived most of this time here in the U.S. attending first prep school and then later college. I would only visit them for some holidays and for summer vacation.
The third story concerned my father and when he passed away and we all went to California in 1997 to take care of his funeral arrangements, etcetera. While there we received a call from one of my father's employees while in Paris, France at the American Embassy. Both my mother and I talked to Jim. She recollects that he was one of the first black Foreign Service officers. He was there with his wife for the very first time. It was her first visit to his boss' home and my mother assumed that his wife would be quite nervous about meeting her husband's boss and wife for the very first time. She was correct, too.To help put her at ease my mother went to the door carrying a mixing bowl straight from the kitchen to show that we were relaxed and hopefully not stuffy-pretentious people. She believes that it worked.
My mother was delighted to hear from Jim that he still remembered the dessert of baked pears filled with a mixture ( the core had been removed from the bottom ) of cheese, walnuts, brown sugar and syrup? She put them in a large pan with either some wine or some water to bake for twenty or so minutes ? She could not remember saying that it probably depended on the size of the pears to how long they should bake. She spoke about pricking them with wooden tooth picks to see if they were done or not. Sounds to me now hearing about them that they were pretty tasty, too. I'm glad Jim that you remembered them after more than twenty years. That made my mother's day I am quite sure. How thoughtful of you for sharing that with her after so many years.
With the elections just over this seems like a timely story to share. My mother says that I also spoke with Jim for quite some time over the phone but I cannot recollect our conversation and what we spoke about? I sure would like to remember. I may also have to try making this recipe sometime soon for my family.
I love hearing these stories of my mother's. My father and I served a Sauternes with this dish. I wonder if I still have the label? Did I soak this one off too like I did many of them? Would it come off? Some would not. I will have to look through my labels from this period. So far on my first look I have been unsuccessful in finding it. Oh well, I'll keep trying. I do remember really well that it was a royal pain in the ass to get many of the labels off : usually too good glue and flimsy paper for the labels.
Cheers! I've got to get some sleep now. I will put this in a draft form and save it, proof it tomorrow and then post it soon after.... All done, ready to post now ! A la prochaine, TONY
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