If your French isn’t that good, beware the French menu!  We are so used to calling the main course the Entrée in English, that we are certain its the same the world over.

Think again.  In France, L’entrée is the first course (what we call the appetizer). 

The main course, typically served second, is called ‘Le plat’, ‘Le plat principal’, or even ‘Le plat de résistance’.  Often followed by Le fromage (so disappointingly rare in the English speaking world) and Le Dessert.

So remember.  If you just order an entrée, you’ll just be getting a starter.

Pourriture Noble: noble rot, mold responsible for the honey-like quality of dessert wines such as Sauternes, Botrytis cinerea

You may find a higher percentage of wine related terms in this space as Michael works his way through the Sommelier Program.

Known in North American as Botrytis, this ‘controlled rot’ could be considered a fault in wine but because, when properly controlled, this rot actually changes the taste dimension of sweeter, white wines in a beautiful way, it is very sought after.

The grapes are left on the vine for an extended period to allow the Botrytis to invade the grapes.  Its important to harvest at exactly the right time to avoid having the grapes fully dehydrate as the skins are pierced by the rot.

If you’ve never had a chance to try one, and don’t where to find one, send us an email and we’ll send you in the right direction.

We’ve all heard of Roast Beef ‘au jus’.  As former resto servers and food worshipers, we (Lisa & Michael) have been asked for ‘some more au jus’.  It’s a minor pet peeve that this is the improper use of the phrase.  ‘Au jus’ literally means ‘with the (natural, unthickened) juice (of the meat in question)’.  So in asking for more ‘au jus’, one is asking for more ‘with juice’, not ‘more juice’.  So impress your friends and say “may I have more jus please”.

au jus French[o ʒy]

Sous Vide is the French culinary term for “under vacuum,”  a cooking method in which fresh ingredients are cooked in air tight (vacuum-sealed) plastic bags in hot water. Slow cooked for an extensive period of time (over 24 hours) at a relatively low temperature, with the water well below boiling point, commonly 60°C (140°F), the food maintains maximum flavor.

This cooking technique was first developed by French chef Georges Pralus, who discovered that cooking foie gras in this way kept the expensive ingredient from shrinking and losing fat content.  Some health experts though, believe that cooking using the method “Sous Vide” is dangerous since the food remains below the “danger zone” of 140˚F wherein bacteria can multiply.

We find food cooked “Sous Vide” is typically tender, flavorful and moist – and we’ve had no ill effects. Santé!

If you`re cooking and you`ve got your game on then you might just be making a civet—a French stew of furry game or fowl, the famous  “jugged hare” in English. Typically civet is a winter dish made with hare or rabbit and flavored with onion, chives, garlic, red wine, and peppercorns; traditionally the hare swims in a distinctive dark brown broth, thickened with the little critter’s blood. The stew can be prepared without the blood for a milder taste, but purists argue that’s the essence of the dish.
A civet is a very complex dish requiring a long list of ingredients and simmering overnight but the result is well worth the effort;  here’s a classic recipe http://honest-food.net/2008/12/30/classic-civet-of-hare/   It`s a little too labor intensive for me to attempt; Michael’s up for a go, I’m sure. (Any excuse for a big wine for Michael.) And if any of you out there decide to try the recipe, drop us a line (send pix!)—we`d love to hear all about your evening! Santé!

Blame the wonderful pot au feu Michael made Saturday for this Monday Mot, a two-fer! A pot au feu is much more than a traditional French country stew: this triumph of simple cooking cuts across class lines as the beating heart of Gallic culinary flair, a delightful mélange of (deliberately) cartilaginous meat, ham hock, sausage and/or thick bacon, garden vegetables…and the bouquet garni, the spices that take the dish to heaven.

Like home cooks and chefs all over France do, Michael started with the broth.  After the broth had gently (this is critical) simmered for a couple of hours, Michael fished out a little cheesecloth sachet from the casserole with his wooden spoon and proudly proclaimed as he showed me the tiny dripping bundle of herbs: “Look, my first bouquet garni!”

A bouquet garni is a bundle of aromatic herbs; bay leaves, garlic, thyme and parsley, simmered in the broth of soups, stews and sauces, and removed before serving.  Bouquets garnis  can be tied together into a bundle, or faggot, and then immersed, or as Michael did, tied into a sachet of cheesecloth.

Michael used black peppercorns, bay leaves, garlic, flat-leaf parsley, and thyme in his bouquet garni. We served Michael’s pot au feu for dinner that evening to eight of our friends.  The reviews were great. It was a delicious dish for a cold winter’s eve…and the company of our friends made it a truly wonderful night.

I’d never heard of the word “affinage” until I started to learn about the world of cheese. Obviously the French would invent this term and elevate this process to an art form because no country in the world can surpass them in not only the sheer volume of cheese they produce, but the care and finesse they put into creating it. You’ve probably heard the famous quote by Charles de Gualle, a former President of France asking “How can you govern a country that has over 200 kinds of cheese?”  He wasn’t exaggerating. France produces 1/3 of the world’s cheese in a country not much bigger than the size of Texas.

So what is “affinage” you may ask? It is the process of ripening, curing and aging of cheese. This doesn’t mean that you just let the cheese sit there for a few days, no. Cheese can take weeks, months or even years to reach its maturity. Often a great deal of work and care is put into the “affinage”. Next to the actual making of the cheese, the “affinage” can drastically affect how your cheese will taste. It is similar to the aging of wine.
The person who does this process or “affineur” will manage the temperature, humidity, turn over the cheese at intervals, and sometimes wash, smoke, brush off, roll, or wrap the cheese in cloth. All of these variables are constantly checked and controlled by the “affineur” and their management of these variables can make a good cheese great.

I’ve heard a lot of amusing stories about this one and as I explain more about this word you’ll see why.

Préservatif is similar to the word preservative in English. Generally, when we ask if food has preservatives we’re referring to a chemical-based ingredient added to food to prolong its freshness. Préservatif is one of those “faux-amis”, (words that are the same in both languages but have very different meanings).  I will elaborate with this little anecdote: One of our friends was in a restaurant one day and ordered some soup. She asked the waiter in French if the soup had “préservatifs” in it, thinking that she was saying ‘preservatives’.  The waiter grinned from ear to ear and assured her there were no “préservatifs” in her soup. In fact, what she asked was if there were any condoms in her soup. Préservatif is the French word for condom. The word she should have used was conservateurs.

I actually saw this in reverse one day while visiting a winery near Bordeaux. In the little shop there on-site, in addition to the wonderful bottles of wine that were for sale, they had a display of jams. The little sign posted above the display said “Sans conservateurs/No conservatives”.  Maybe they were fooled by the “faux-ami” thing too.  I reckon they reasoned that conservateurs translated to conservatives in English, rather than “preservatives” which sounded a little too close to ‘condoms’, or maybe they just thought that it wasn’t necessary to warn people that there weren’t any condoms in their jams.

The word dosage exists both in French and English. However, it’s one of those words that is a “faux ami”; a word that does not mean the same thing in both languages.

In English, dosage : dō-sij (hard j) typically refers to the taking of medicine in prescribed amounts, or dosages.

In French, dosage : dō-saj (soft j) it actually has a few meanings. It can mean a determined amount of a substance, which is similar to the English meaning. Among its other meanings, it relates to the production of wine, specifically sparkling wine. Depending on the method of making sparkling wine, sometimes a dosage is added. It’s a sweetened liqueur added to the sparkling wine before the bottle is sealed.

I don’t know about you, but I think we should let our pharmacists know about this type of dosage so they can start prescribing it “tout de suite”!

Sometimes, when you are not fluent in a language, you will translate something literally when you are trying to say something. This was the case when I ordered some food at a little take-out sandwich shop Paris one day.

The French word “emporter” means to take away, and this is exactly the word that the French use for food to take out. Simple enough.

In North America we usually say “Is that for here or to go?” so I translated the phrase in my head word for word when the clerk behind the counter in the sandwich shop asked if I wanted it to take away, or “emporter”. I said, no, I wanted it “pour ici”, meaning literally “for here”.

She looked at me like I had a horn growing out of my forehead. After this incident in which I did manage to get my food to eat in, I learned that I should have replied with “sur place” meaning to eat it on the premises, or “in place”.