French Rustic Home Fries: Pommes Persillade

This dish is most often used as a side dish. I prefer to use fresh parsley, rather than dried, especially as fresh parsley is easily available (of course, the affects of the pandemic have made the availability of many products less reliable). This is such a tasty and easy dish to make. The idea is to fry the potato pieces so that they develop a somewhat crispy outer layer that surrounds a soft and creamy inner texture. I used the term "French Rustic Home Fries" in the title, because if I used "French Fried Potatoes," readers would likely assume the potatoes to be "French fries," but these aren't really typical home fries either, because they aren't potato slices, but rather they are traditionally diced potato pieces.    

Ingredients (4 servings)

1 pound potatoes, peeled, cut into about 1 inch dice (keep the pieces close in size to cook evenly)

3 garlic cloves, minced

2 heaping tablespoons chopped parsley 

1/3 cup shredded or grated Parmesan cheese

2/3 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/2 teaspoon salt (remember, the cheese has salt)

3 tablespoons butter 

2 tablespoons olive oil 

Boil the potato pieces in lightly salted water; maintain a steady boil until the potato pieces are cooked through, but NOT mushy (this is important). Drain the potatoes VERY well, so they will get a crispy layer around them. Heat the olive oil in a skillet (cast iron is good for this, but not necessary) over medium high heat; then fry the potatoes in the hot oil, turning them to brown them on all sides (that crispy outer layer will develop). The idea is to brown the outside of the potatoes, but to keep the inside soft and creamy; so, frying the potatoes does require your close attention until the potatoes are browned. Add the butter to the skillet and as it melts, add the garlic and parsley, stirring everything around for 60 to 90 seconds. Remove the skillet from the heat and stir the potatoes to make sure they are all coated with the seasoned butter. Sprinkle on the salt and pepper and the shredded or grated cheese. I put the cheese in the hot skillet with the potatoes (remember, the skillet is off of the heat), so that it just starts to melt and/or brown a little, but you can wait to add the cheese until you serve the potatoes.  

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Sum-This word is related to "superior" and "summit," both Latin-derived words borrowed by English from Latin-based French, to "soprano," another Latin-derived word, but in this case English borrowed it from Italian, and to "summary," another Latin-derived word borrowed from that language, and it is distantly related to "over," a word from the Germanic roots of English. "Sum" goes back to the Indo European root "upo," with the notion of "from under" or "from below," "to go over/above." This then provided the base of a comparative form, "uper," and from this came the extended form adjective "sup-mos," meaning "uppermost, highest, top." This gave Latin the adjective "summus" with the same basic meaning, the feminine form of which was "summa" with those same basic meanings, as well as the figurative meanings "main" and "highest rank." This passed to Latin-based Old French as "somme," which became "summe/sume" in the French spoken by the descendants of the Normans in England, and English borrowed the word in the early 1300s as "summe," with one of its primary meanings being "an amount of money," and later the meaning "the total of numbers added together," apparently dating to the Roman math system of adding numbers from the bottom of a column upward, then listing the amount at the top; thus, "the summe," taken from the Latin "summa totalis;" that is, "the sum total," with "summe" contracted to "sum." The idea of an expression like, "the sum of the article," comes from the notion of "the main point," or "the sum of important parts" of an article (book, speech, movie). The verb came from French "sommer," meaning "to add up numbers/amounts," with the French form also from Latin "summa."         

Filet of Sole in Lemon Butter: Sole Meunière

"Meunière" means "miller's wife" in French; thus, in culinary terminology, "to cook something in the style of the miller's wife;" that is, "to prepare food in a rustic way," which developed the more specific meaning of "to coat with flour and cook in butter and lemon juice." 

"Filet" is also spelled "fillet," with "fillet" being more common in modern English, although "filet" is still used at times.* This simple dish was certainly given a boost in the United States by Julia Child, who long had a television cooking show, which started well before the Food Network and a multitude of cooking shows became a regular part of television programming. This was the first dish she ate upon arriving in France in 1948, a time before she was even interested in becoming a cook.

 

Ingredients (4 servings):

 

4 sole fillets

1 teaspoon ground pepper (white or black pepper)

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 stick of butter (1/4 pound)

1/3 to 1/2 cup flour

3 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice

2 to 3 tablespoons capers

1/4 cup chopped parsley

lemon slices or wedges for garnish 

Melt half of the butter in a skillet over medium heat. Put 1/3 cup flour on a plate or on some wax paper. Put each of the sole fillets into flour and press down a bit, then lightly rub the flour into the fish. Add some salt and pepper to both sides of the fillets and add the fillets to the skillet (you will likely only be able to do two fillets at a time). Saute the sole for about 2 to 2 1/2 minutes on each side, or until cooked through. Remove cooked fillets to a plate or platter. Add the remaining butter to the skillet over low heat, along with the lemon juice and the capers, stir and heat until the butter is totally melted and the sauce is well heated, then quickly add the chopped parsley and stir very briefly. Remove from the heat. Carefully put each sole fillet on its serving plate and put a couple of spoons full of the lemon butter and capers over the tops of the fillets (spread out the capers and parsley on the fillets). Garnish each plate with lemon slices or lemon wedges.

 

* For the history of "filet/fillet," here is the link: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2016/06/salmon-with-parsley-dill-pecorino-romano.html

Sole Meunière with sauteed mushrooms ...

WORD HISTORY:

Concoct (Concoction)-The main part of the prefixed word "concoct" is closely related to "cook" and to "kitchen," both Latin words borrowed into Germanic, and thus, English, and to "cuisine," another Latin-based word borrowed by English from French. The "con" part goes back to Indo European "kom," which meant, "beside, near, together," and this gave Latin both "con" and "com," with the idea of "together, with." The main part goes back to Indo European "pekwo," which seems to have meant "to ripen;" the notion being to prepare inedible raw food until it is 'ripe;' that is, ready to eat. This gave Old Italic "kekewo," and this gave Latin "coquere," meaning "to cook." The two parts gave Latin the verb "concoquere," meaning "to cook or boil together;" thus, "to prepare (usually of food, but also of thought; thus, ponder, to give extensive consideration to)," and further, "to digest" (food prepared for use by the body). The participle form of the verb was "concoctus," meaning "something made or prepared by combining ingredients or ideas," also, "digested." English borrowed the word from Latin in the 1500s, but the "digest" meaning has long since died out. The noun form "concoction" is from the Latin noun form "concoctio," which meant "things mixed together," but also, "digestion," and this Latin noun has the same history as the verb. As with the verb form, the noun was borrowed by English in the 1500s, but the "digestion" meaning didn't last long in English. Both the verb and the noun can be used in less than flattering ways in English (Examples: "Randy was late for the meeting, but he concocted some excuse for being late."  "The Bradleys served some concoction for dinner and I've been sick all day from it.")  

Chicken from Southern France: Chicken Provençal

The word "Provençal" tells us this dish is from the southeastern region of France, from "Provence," where the largest city is Marseille, and other well known cites are Toulon, Cannes and Nice. All of these cites are located along the Mediterranean Sea, although Provence also extends well inland. Italy is beyond the eastern border of Provence. Besides standard French, the language of Provence is Provençal, a dialect of the Latin-based Occitan languages, which include various southern French and Italian dialects and Catalan, spoken in the Catalonia region of eastern Spain. 

This is such a good dish. I used boneless/skinless chicken thighs for when I made the dish for this article, but you could certainly use chicken breast, and previously I've used chicken with the skin on. Please don't get all wound up about anchovy fillets in this dish. They will melt into the sauce and you will not experience the strong taste you recall from your first (and last) bite of anchovy pizza. Many recipes I've seen have far more garlic, like 8 to 12 cloves, so feel free to add more garlic. Serve with mashed potatoes and some good crusty bread.   

 

 

Ingredients (4 to 6 servings):

 

4 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into four pieces each

3/4 teaspoon dried thyme, rub it with the thumb of one hand in the palm of the other hand

1/4 teaspoon dried rosemary, rub it as as thyme

3/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

3/4 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoon olive oil + 2 tablespoons butter (I use extra virgin olive oil)

4 garlic cloves, chopped

4 anchovy fillets

2/3 cup white wine

1/2 cup chicken stock

1 cup crushed tomatoes and juice

1/4 cup black olives (preferably Niçoise or Kalamata)

1/4 cup green olives (preferably Castelvetrano or Manzanilla)

3 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

 

Add 2 tablespoons butter and 2 tablespoons olive oil to a skillet over medium heat. Season the chicken pieces well with salt, ground black pepper, dried thyme and dried rosemary. Put the seasoned chicken pieces into the butter/oil mixture and saute until they are lightly browned all over (be sure to turn the pieces often to prevent sticking and to prevent the chicken from developing tough and dried spots). Remove the chicken pieces to a plate temporarily. Lower the heat and add the garlic and anchovy fillets and saute for about a minute or so, then add the white wine and the chicken stock and bring the mixture to a simmer and let it cook for just 2 to 3 minutes (adjust the heat to maintain a gentle simmer). Stir in the tomatoes and juice and bring everything back to a simmer. Add the chicken pieces back to the skillet, then add the black and green olives. Let the chicken simmer for 10 to 12 minutes, basting it with the sauce a few times. Stir in the chopped parsley. After about 2 to 3 minutes, remove the skillet from the heat. Serve with mashed potatoes and some good crusty bread.  

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Paradise-This is a compound word with the first part related, at least in part, to a huge number of words in English, including: "fore," "before," "forth" and "from," all from the Germanic roots of English, and to the first part of the following: "pardon," "perfect" and "permit," all Latin words borrowed by English via French, and to "percent," a word borrowed directly from Latin. This goes back to Indo European "per," which had the notion "in front of, forward, against, near." This gave Indo Iranian^ a transliterated form "pari," meaning "near, around, about." The second part of the word "paradise" is related to the first part of "dairy," from the Germanic roots of English (the ending, however, is from French/Latin), and to "dough," also from the Germanic roots of English. It goes back to Indo European "dheigh," which had the notion, "to shape, to form;" thus also, "to build, to knead." This gave Indo Iranian "dahyah," meaning, "wall," and together the parts gave the meaning "wall around;" thus, "an enclosure, a garden, a park" (from a verb like "paridahyiz," "to build or make a wall??"). Greek borrowed the compound word as transliterated "parádeisos," meaning, "walled garden or park," but it was used in the biblical religious sense for, "the Garden of Eden," but in New Testament passages it meant "heaven, the home of the blessed in the afterlife." Latin borrowed the word as "paradisus," also meaning "garden, park, orchard," but also with the 'heaven' meaning in Christianity. This passed into Latin-based Old French as "paradis," with the same religous meaning, and this was borrowed into late Old English (circa 1000?) as "paradis," which then became "paradys" and "paradise."     

 

^ Indo Iranian is a branch of the Indo European languages; thus, with its component languages being related to English, but further down the family tree. There are many, many Indo Iranian languages, some of which are: Hindi, Urdu, Bengali and Persian. 

French Tuna Salad Sandwich: Pan Bagnat

French "Pan Bagnat" is considered one of the supreme picnic foods by many people in France, especially in its home region of southern France around Nice and vicinity. The meaning of the French name is "bathed bread," because the bread is bathed in olive oil and some vinaigrette. It is a combination of the famous French salad, "Salad Niçoise,"* although not everyone uses all of the varied salad ingredients in this sandwich; in fact, some do not even use tuna, but rather sardines and/or anchovies. The foundation of this sandwich is the bread and the olive oil. "Traditionally" small crusty loaves of bread are used, or crusty rolls, typically a day or two old, as the crust will stand up to the oil and vinaigrette and soak it in, but not fall apart. Baguettes are also used and then sliced into sections. The thing is, not everyone can bite into and chew crusty bread, including me, so I use somewhat softer bread or rolls, although I give them just a little toasting first. You also want to use tuna packed in olive oil, and then use good extra virgin olive oil for the sandwich. The small dark Niçoise olives are traditional for this sandwich (and for the salad), but they may be difficult to find, and Kalamata olives or other dark olives are fine. I'm not very fond of the common canned black olives sold in U.S., but if you like them, hey, who am I to condemn you to being chopped like a "Salad Niçoise?" While certainly not traditional, if you like some "heat," add some chopped chili pepper, or a couple of small whole chilies to the sandwich. I've actually seen this sandwich made with green beans added! One more thing, if you find these sandwiches somewhat messy, do not despair, you've likely succeeded, as they are meant to be almost dripping with olive oil and the juices from the sandwich. 

Ingredients:

 

2 cans (6 ounce cans) tuna in olive oil

2/3 of a sliced red bell pepper (thinly sliced into about 2 inch slices)

1/3 cup chopped red onion (small chop)

1 large garlic clove, minced

2 or 3 small tomatoes (Romas are good for this, but if you don't have them, say "Arrivederci Roma"), thinly sliced

1/3 cup halved Niçoise olives (or Kalamata olives)

5 to 6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, divided use

1 or 1+ tablespoons red wine vinegar

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon honey

6 to 8 basil leaves

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/2 teaspoon salt

baguettes, kaiser rolls or small loaves of ciabatta bread 

serve with some cornichons on the side

 

Cut each piece of bread or roll in half lengthwise. You can take out a little of the inside of both halves of the bread/rolls to make a little room for the filling. In a bowl mix together the tuna (with its olive oil), red bell pepper slices, red onion, garlic, olive halves, ground black pepper, salt and 3 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil. In a cup, mix together 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard, 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar and 1teaspoon honey (taste the mixture and you can add more vinegar if that suits your taste). Put a few of the thinly sliced tomato pieces on the bread/rolls (if you've removed some of the bottom of the bread, put the tomato slices there). Spoon some of the tuna salad onto the tomato slices and smooth it out. Drizzle on some of the dressing and then add a couple of basil leaves. Place the tops on the sandwiches and press down a bit, then wrap each sandwich in plastic wrap. Put a tray or plate on top of the sandwiches with some fairly heavy item, like a skillet, to weigh them down, and put them into the refrigerator for at least 1 hour, but 8 or 10 hours is better. 

 

* For "Salad Niçoise," here is the link:  https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2016/07/salad-nicoise-sort-of.html

 

I added a few cornichons on the side ...

WORD HISTORY:

Scald-This word is likely distantly related to "callus," a word borrowed by English from Latin, but it is related to "chowder," "cauldron," and "calorie," all Latin words borrowed via Latin-based French. "Scald" goes back to Indo European "kel(he)," which meant, "warm, hot." This gave Latin the verb "caldere," meaning, "to be warm/hot" (with other meanings over time). Latin added the prefix "ex" ("out, out from, away from") from Indo European "eghs," which had those meanings and many similar ones. This gave Latin "excaldere," meaning, "to make warm or hot by putting into warm/hot water;" thus also, "to bathe in warm/hot water." This gave Old French "eschalder" meaning, "to rinse or bathe with warm or hot water," with the northern French dialects (rendered as "escalder") meaning, "to burn with hot water or other hot liquid." This was borrowed by English in the first half of the 1200s as "scalden," with that same meaning, "seemingly" a little later adding the meaning, "to heat liquid to near boiling." As English verb conjugation changed, the "en" ending was dropped.  

French Chicken with Vinegar: Poulet au Vinaigre

"Chicken with Vinegar," or "Poulet au Vinaigre," is a specialty of the French city of Lyon, dating back to the 1500s, 1600s or 1700s; take your pick, as historical information on the dish is scant. Serve with noodles, rice or mashed potatoes and a salad. You can use other parts of the chicken, but for this article I chose whole legs. There are quite a number of recipe variations, with red wine vinegar being the major preference, over the white wine vinegar that I use. Further, fresh or canned tomaotes are one of the other variations, but I chose to just use some tomato paste, although you can substitute ketchup, as the vinegar in the ketchup will simply blend in with the dish anyway. (Note: I needn't really tell you that using tomato paste can pose the problem of what to do with the unused portion, as many recipes call for 1 or 2 tablespoons of the paste. Of course there are tubes of tomato paste which can help with the problem, but if you aren't a prolific user of tomato paste, you'll still have a problem. I choose to frequently substitute ketchup, and to my knowledge, I have yet to turn into a pillar of salt; however, I did walk through some snow the other day, and IT MELTED! Another variation in some recipes is the amount of vinegar. I've seen recipes that call for what I view as "scary" amounts of vinegar, like 1 cup or more, and I'm not one to like a lot of sour taste in foods. Other recipes use 1/2 cup, but that's still a bit much for me, so about a year or two ago I tried using 1/3 cup, and while it was better, I finally settled upon using 1/4 cup, so if you like this dish, try it with 1/4 cup of vinegar and escalate the amount from there to see what you prefer. The old food preparation rule applies; in this case, to the use of vinegar: you can always add vinegar, but once you add it, try getting it out; so, use small amounts to start.        

 

Ingredients (4 servings): 

4 whole chicken legs

1 medium onion, chopped

3 garlic cloves, chopped

2 tablespoons tomato paste (or thick ketchup)

2 tablespoon butter + 1 tablespoon olive oil

1 cup dry white wine

1/4 to 1/3 cup white wine vinegar

1/2 cup chicken broth

1 teaspoon dried thyme

1 teaspoon dried tarragon

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/2 teaspoon salt (if the broth is salty, you can leave this out)

1 cup cream

 

In a large skillet (it will need to be covered later; so preferably, a skillet with a lid, or you can cover it with foil), add the butter and oil over medium heat until the butter melts. Add the chicken and cook until it is browned ('about' 3 minutes per side). Remove the chicken to a plate, cover and set it aside temporarily. Add the onion to the skillet and to the existing oil/butter (add a little more oil if needed), then reduce the heat to low. Add the garlic and cook until the onion/garlic mixture is softened (like about 4 or 5 minutes). Add the tomato paste or thick ketchup, white wine, white wine vinegar, chicken broth, thyme, tarragon, black pepper and salt (if using). Keep the heat on low and let the mixture come to a simmer, then add the browned chicken pieces to the skillet, cover the skillet and let the chicken cook for about 50 to 60 minutes, until tender, stirring the liquid several times during the cooking process and spooning the sauce over any exposed chicken. Remove the chicken pieces to a plate and add the cream to the sauce, mix well and let the mixture just start to bubble and simmer over low heat for about 8 to 10 minutes, during which time the sauce should cook down to thicken the sauce a little. Return the chicken to the sauce to reheat it, then serve. 

 

With mashed potatoes and salad ... 

WORD HISTORY:

Opus (Opera)-These words are related to "operation," "copy" and "optimism," all Latin-derived words borrowed by English via French, and to "optimum," another Latin-derived word borrowed directly from that language by English. "Opus" goes back to Indo European "op," which meant "to work, to produce;" thus also, "to have ability to do (something);" thus also, "to have skill." This gave Latin the noun "opus" (perhaps via Italic "opis/opi/ope?" ^) meaning, "a work, a work of skill;" thus also, "a work of art or a composition of music or writing;" also in religious belief, "a miracle" ("a special work or deed beyond belief"). English borrowed the word from Latin circa 1810. Latin "opus" produced the verb "operari" (seemingly via the genitive case of 'opus,' which was 'operis') and meaning, "to work." This spawned the noun "opera," meaning, "a work, an effort," which carried over into Italian with the same general meaning, but also, "a composition." The specific meaning, "a dramatic work presented with orchestral music and vocals," seems to have developed in Florence (Italian: Firenze) in the latter part of the 1500s. English borrowed the word and this meaning from Italian in the mid 1600s.

 
^  Italic is a branch of the Indo European family of languages and includes Latin, Umbrian, Venetic, and others, most of which have died out. Latin's own limited use today is mainly because its dialects evolved into several modern languages: Italian, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Rumanian, Catalan, Sardinian, and several others.

French Remoulade Sauce

Remoulade sauce seems to have started in France, but exactly when it started is a difficult question to answer, as I've seen references to the 1600s, the 1700s and the 1800s. The base of remoulade sauce is mayonnaise, and the French version has spawned a variety of remoulade sauces, including two very distinctive types, one in Denmark, and one in the United States, more precisely in Louisiana,* a state that has French influences, owing to the fact that it was once a possession of France; and indeed, it was named after French King Louis XIV.

Ingredients (1 cup +):

1 cup mayonnaise

1 heaping teaspoon Dijon mustard

1 tablespoon chopped chervil or parsley

1 tablespoon chopped tarragon

1 tablespoon chopped capers

1 heaping tablespoon chopped cornichons (small pickles)

1 anchovy fillet, finely chopped

1 teaspoon lemon juice

pinch of ground black pepper

Mix all ingredients together very well in a bowl, cover and refrigerate for a minimum of 2 hours before using.

* For my recipe for Louisiana style remoulade, here is the link: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2020/08/louisiana-remoulade-sauce.html

 

WORD HISTORY:
Session-This word is related, through Indo European, to "sit," "seat" and "settle," all from the Germanic roots of English, and it is more closely related to "siege," a Latin based word borrowed by English from French. It goes back to Indo European "sed," which meant, "to sit." This gave Latin "sedere," which also meant "to sit, to calm down, to settle down in a place." Its past participle base, "sess," gave Latin the noun "sessio," meaning, "the act of sitting," "a seat;" thus also, "the act of sitting for a meeting to discuss matters." Its dative, accusative, ablative and genitive case forms, as well as it plural form in all cases had the base "session," with various endings. It passed into Latin-based Old French as "session," with the meaning, "a sitting for court, a sitting for a discussion meeting;" thus, "a sitting for an assembly or a committee." English borrowed the word in the latter part of the 1300s with much the same meanings; that is, "a sitting for a regular or periodic court or a sitting to discuss and, or, to legislate on some issue or issues." 

French Potato Gratin: Gratin Dauphinois

"Gratin Dauphinois" is a classic French potato side dish from the area of the French Alps. You can use a baking dish, a casserole dish or a pie dish or pan (or a cake pan, for that matter). You can slice the potatoes with a knife, although if you have the adapter for a food processor, or another type of slicer, it will make the potato slices uniform. Just my own opinion here (hey, this isn't called "Pontificating" for nuthin' ... ah, nothing), but "gratin" in not a very common word in American English, and many Americans might associate it more with upscale restaurants or cooking. When I was a kid potatoes fixed similar to this dish were almost always called "scalloped potatoes" (regardless of the ingredients), but then one or more of the processed food companies had boxed versions of "scalloped potatoes," and another similar boxed version with cheese to be sprinkled on top, and for which they used the term "au gratin potatoes" (this was pronounced by the average American as if, "oh graw-tin potatoes," but this led some nameless smart-ass guy to called it, "old rotten potatoes."  

Ingredients:

1 1/2 pounds starchy potatoes, peeled, thinly sliced (about 1/4 inch slices)
1 cup heavy cream
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 pepper
1 clove garlic, minced
1 to 2 tablespoons butter (for the baking dish/pan)
1/3 cup shredded Gruyère (you can substitute Swiss cheese/Emmentaler cheese)*

Heat oven to 300 F. Grease the bottom and sides of the baking dish or pan with butter. Slice the potatoes to a thickness of about two coins, like U.S. quarters. Pour a couple of tablespoons of cream into the dish and then swirl it around a little. It need not cover the bottom of the dish completely. Put about half of the potato slices into the dish, add a couple of tablespoons of cream around the tops of the potatoes, then sprinkle on half of the salt, half of the pepper, half of the nutmeg and half of the minced garlic. Add the rest of the potato slices and the remainder of the cream, then repeat the seasoning process. Add the shredded cheese over the top and bake the potatoes for about 100 minutes, or until the potatoes are tender and the top of the gratin is nice and browned. Let the potatoes sit for about 15 to 20 minutes before cutting and serving.

* "Gruyère" is a type of firm whitish to light yellowish cheese produced in Switzerland, more so in the French-speaking areas (about 20 to 23% of Switzerland is French speaking), but is not uncommon in France, especially in regions adjacent to Switzerland. 
 
Unbaked Gratin Dauphinois ...

Serving...

Whole baked Gratin Dauphinois ... 

WORD HISTORY:
Revenge-This is really a three part word, with "re-," a common prefix, often meaning, "again, back, go back," and at times with the extended meaning, "to do over" ("redo, retry"), but the meaning of this prefix is not always tied to these meanings, but "seemingly" is more of an intensifier in some Latin-derived words. The second part is from Indo European "weieh," with the notion, "force, power, energy." This gave Latin "vis," with those same general meanings, and the accusative form is "vim," with "vin" being a variant form. It is related to both "vim" (energy, vitality) and "virility" (manly power, manhood), and both are Latin-derived words borrowed by English. Lastly, there is Indo European "deik," which had the notion, "to point, to show," and it is the ancestor of quite a number of English words, both native and borrowed; for instance, "toe," "token" and "teach," all from the Germanic roots of English, and "digit," "dictate" and "dictum" all borrowed from Latin. The Indo European form gave Latin "dicere/dicare," meaning, "to state, to declare, to give affirmation." Latin combined "vin" and "dicere/dicare" into "vindicare," meaning, "to assert, to make a claim to, to protect;" thus also, "to punish to give affirmation to a claim or to defend a claim contested by another." This was taken by Latin-based Old French as "revenchier," which then became "revengier," meaning, "to take revenge." English borrowed the word circa 1400 (perhaps just a little before that?). The noun form was borrowed from the French noun form "revenge" in the mid 1500s and meaning, "an infliction of defeat or punishment as retaliation for some previous act by another." The French noun had developed from the verb.       

French Pizza of Nice: Pissaladière

"Pissaladière" is a type of pizza that is a part of the cuisine of the city of Nice in southern France. The name is derived from French "peis salat," meaning, "salted fish;" thus, the anchovies in the recipe. Even if you don't like anchovies, you can give this pizza a try by simply adding a couple of anchovy fillets to the cooking onions, where the salty little fish will disintegrate into the onions, but they will not have the strong taste many people associate with anchovies used on salads or on some Italian-style pizza. "Pissaladière" seems to have been borrowed from the Liguria region of Italy, which is also known to some as "the Italian Riviera." The Italians used salted fish for their pizza, but later many recipes added tomatoes. Tomatoes came from the New World and Europeans at first thought they were poisonous, but once that idea was dispelled, tomatoes became a part of various European cuisines, and a major ingredient in Italian cuisine.

The easiest way to make Pissaladière is to simply buy some prepared bread/pizza dough, but if you prefer your own bread dough, go for it! I've read where some cooks now even use pie dough for Pissaladière. I bought black olives in olive oil, then pitted them myself, but you can certainly use green olives or a mixture of both black and green olives. I made a 10 inch round Pissaladière; so, the amounts below are for that size pizza, but you can use a pizza pan or a baking sheet of any size and then adjust the other ingredients accordingly. Good served with a glass of white wine. 

Ingredients:

bread dough (or you can use pie dough)
1 1/2 large onions, halved, then thinly sliced
1/2 teaspoon sugar
black olives in olive oil, pitted (amount to your preference)
4 anchovy fillets  + more for garnish (optional)
1 to 2 tablespoons olive oil
1 sprig fresh thyme or 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme

I used a round 10 inch dish for this. If you buy frozen dough, be sure it is well thawed and brought to room temperature. I use a little olive oil to coat the dish or pan. Use enough dough to create a somewhat "thin," but not a "super thin" crust. You also don't want the dough to puff up the size of a loaf of bread (remember, pizza/bread dough will have yeast or a leavening agent and will "puff up" to some degree). In a skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Saute the onions until they soften, then add the anchovy fillets and sprinkle the sugar over the onions and mix it in. Lower the heat and let the anchovies dissolve into the onions, stirring occasionally. Let the onion mixture cook until the onions caramelize, stirring occasionally to prevent the onions from burning. During this process, add the thyme to the onions. Spread the onions over the dough, leaving a small edge around the dough. Place some olives on top of the onions and optionally, you can also add some anchovy fillets (whole or chopped). Bake at 400 F for about 30 to 40 minutes, until the crust edge is lightly browned.      

WORD HISTORY:
Jewel-The origin of this word is shaky, but it seems to be distantly related to "joke," a Latin derived word borrowed by English. It "seems" to go back to Indo European "yek," which meant, "to speak, to utter." This gave its Italic offspring "joko/ioko," meaning, "something said, an utterance," but also, "something said in jest." This gave Latin "iocus," meaning, "a joke, amusing entertainment," further, the broader, "that which brings happiness or rejoicing." This gave Latin the noun "jocale," meaning, "object that brings joy;" thus also, "decoration, adornment;" thus, "jewel, gemstone." This passed into Latin-based Old French as "jouel," meaning, "jewel, gemstone." Carried to England by the Normans as "juel," and then borrowed by English about 1300.  

Croque Monsieur/Croque Madame

Apparently invented in Paris in the years before World War One, the original sandwich was the "Croque Monsieur." "Croque" is from the French verb "croquer," which has several meanings to do with eating, like: to munch, to bite, to crunch." The idea seems to have been a "man's," or "gentleman's," crunchy bite, as the toasted sandwich is crunchy. Decades later an egg was added to make the female version, "Croque Madame," supposedly because the egg was like a lady's hat topping off the sandwich. While these are sandwiches, they are not the kind of sandwiches you make while there are commercial breaks during your favorite television show. You need to make the sauce, you then need to make the basic sandwiches, then you need to fry (toast) those sandwiches, then you need to add the sauce, then you need to brown the top under the broiler, then you need to fry or poach the eggs and to add them, if you choose to use them. Nothing here is terribly difficult to do, although it does take a little time, but the result is well worth it, as the sandwiches are great.  

Ingredients (4 sandwiches):

Bechamel Sauce (actually a Mornay Sauce):

2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
1 cup milk, with a pinch of thyme and a bay leaf, well heated, but not boiled/scalded
1/2 cup shredded Swiss or Gruyère cheese
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon salt

8 slices of white bread
ham, thinly sliced, but not paper thin
4 slices Swiss cheese (Emmentaler or Gruyère cheese) + about 1/3 to 1/2 cup shredded  
"about" 3 to 4 teaspoons Dijon mustard
butter for frying the sandwiches (+ more if frying eggs)
4 eggs (if using) 

Heat the milk, pinch of thyme and the bay leaf over low heat. Remove the milk from the heat if it is heated before you finish making the roux (butter and flour). Melt the 2 tablespoons butter in a heavy bottomed pan over medium heat (do not brown the butter). Stir in the flour to form a paste and cook just about 90 seconds (do not let the roux brown), and turn down the heat if need be. Remove the bay leaf from the milk. Gradually whisk the heated milk into the roux, and let the milk come to a bare simmer, whisking constantly as the mix thickens. Season with salt and pepper and stir/whisk well again, turn off the heat. Heat a griddle or large skillet (cast iron is good for this) over medium heat. While the skillet or griddle is heating, on four slices of the bread, spread a thin layer of Dijon mustard. Top this with some thin ham slices and then some thinly sliced or shredded Swiss or Gruyère cheese. Butter one side of the other slices of bread and place them on top of the sandwiches. Place the sandwiches, buttered side down, onto to the skillet/griddle. Now lightly butter the top slice of the bread in the skillet (on the griddle). When the bottom of the sandwiches are nicely browned, turn the sandwiches over to brown the other side. Turn on your broiler, spread about 2 to 3 tablespoons of the bechamel sauce on top of each sandwich (the bechamel sauce should be nice and thick, but still fluid). Put the sandwiches on a baking sheet (bechamel side up) and let the sauce brown a bit under the broiler. Do not put the sandwiches too close to the broiler (I put my sandwiches about 10 inches below the broiler) and keep a close watch, as the bechamel sauce will likely brown pretty quickly. If you are making the "Madame" version, fry the eggs lightly in butter (they should not have crisp edges), or poach the eggs, if you'd like, and the yolks should be runny. Serve the sandwiches with the eggs on top and bon appétit! Or, as Charles Boyer would have said, "Bon appétit!" Ah... something wrong there?  

 A Croque Monsieur

A Croque Madame

WORD HISTORY: 
Bechamel-This word for the famous French white sauce comes from the Marquis Louis de Béchamel, an aide to King Louis XIV of France. While the sauce is very much associated with French cuisine, it actually "seems" to have been taken to France from Italy in the 1530s by the cooking staff of Catherine de Medici of Florence, who married Henry, who later became King Henry II of France. It was only later in the 1600s, during Louis XIV's rule, that the sauce was popularized with the Béchamel name. The term was borrowed into English circa 1770.

Visit the Riviera at Home: Socca/Farinata

"Socca," also called, "farinata" in Italian, is a flatbread made from chickpea flour and it is a specialty of the Liguria region in northwestern Italy and also across the Franco-Italian border into the city of Nice in France. "Nice" in French, and "Nizza" in Italian, the area was part of Italy (actually the Kingdom of Sardinia, the forerunner of the modern united Italian nation) after Napoleon's defeat until 1860, when a treaty allowed it to be annexed to France, then under Napoleon III. The modern Italian border lies a little less than 25 miles away. This flatbread has its roots in the Liguria region of Italy, the coastal area of northwestern Italy, also known as the "Italian Riviera," which has Genoa as its most prominent city, as well as its capital, but it is also a specialty of Nice. The outside is crisp, but the inside should be soft and kind of creamy. You can eat the bread with a little salt and olive oil, or you can use any number of toppings on it, even making it into a pizza, which if you use the Italian form of Nice, you could call, "a Nizza pizza," and you could say, "Give me a piece o' Nizza pizza."

Ingredients:

1 cup chickpea flour
1 cup barely lukewarm water
1/2 tablespoon olive oil (more for pan & topping)
1 teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary
1/4 teaspoon pepper
2/3 teaspoon salt

Mix together the ingredients (a whisk is good to use), slowly adding the water while whisking, taking care to eliminate any lumps. Cover the batter and let it stand for about 45 minutes. Turn on the broiler of your oven. Also turn on the large burner of your stove top to medium high. Add 2 tablespoons of olive oil to a 9 inch to 10 inch cast iron skillet.* Heat the skillet on the stove top until it just begins to smoke. Swirl the hot oil around in the pan, so that it coats part way up the sides of the skillet. Add the batter into the hot skillet, swirling the batter to form an even layer over the entire bottom of the skillet. Once the batter is "set" in the skillet and the edges begin to sizzle, remove the skillet from the stove top and place it on the oven rack about 6 inches from the broiler. Broil until the top is brown and it has some dark brown to even blackened spots on it. Serving: cut into wedges, sprinkle each with a little salt and pepper, then add a few drops of extra virgin olive oil onto each wedge.   

* In the Riviera region they have special pans for making socca/farinata, which are typically cast iron pizza pans. 

WORD HISTORY:
River/Riviera-These words are distantly related to "riven" and "rift," both of North Germanic origin from the Germanic form from Indo European. "River" goes back to Indo European "reip," which had the notion, "to tear, to tear through, to tear apart, to cut into." This gave Latin "ripa," meaning, "seashore, embankment/bank of a river," both from the idea of "land forms made by water 'cutting' through or into land." This then produced the Latin adjective, "riparius," meaning, "of or from a (river)bank (and also, 'a seashore?')," which then produced the noun  "riparia," meaning, "a riverbank, a seashore," but also the idea of "riverbank" began to be applied to the "flowing water that formed the banks;" thus, the meaning, "river." This passed into Latin-based Old French as "riviere," meaning, "river, riverbank." This was taken to England by the Normans as "rivere," meaning, "river," and this was borrowed into English in the first part of the 1200s. The Old French word was taken by Italian as "riviera," with the idea of "embankment/bank," taking the meaning, "shore, coast" in Italian, "seemingly" especially applied to the coast of the Genoa area by the mid 1600s, including in English, but then expanded to mean the coastline in northwestern Italy and into southern France in the 1800s, as this overall general area was a retreat many well to do Europeans used in winter.  

Country Pâté (Pâté de Campagne)

"Pâté" is simply the modern French word for "paste," and the old form of the French word was also spelled "paste." The word provided the basis for a dish of chopped or ground seasoned meat. Some pâté is spreadable, and other pâté is firmer and better suited for slicing, as in this recipe here, but whatever the texture, pâté is not a fat free food. When you get right down to it, this is actually a kind of meatloaf. It is "typically" served with some Dijon mustard, bread (sometimes toasted) and cornichons (small pickles). 

Ingredients:

1 onion, finely chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
2 pounds ground pork
1/2 pound slab bacon, chopped
1/2 pound pork liver, coarsely chopped (or chicken livers)
1/2 pound smoked ham, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup Cognac
2 tablespoons butter
1 pound sliced bacon
1 tablespoon salt
1 teaspoon white pepper
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon ground mace
2 teaspoons dried thyme
2 eggs
1/2 cup heavy cream 
1/2 cup bread crumbs (I used panko)

Melt the butter in a skillet over low heat. Add the onion and cook until softened; let cool. Mix together the ground pork, the chopped slab bacon, the chopped pork liver, the chopped ham, garlic, softened onion, white pepper, salt, cayenne pepper, cloves, mace, thyme, Cognac, eggs, cream and bread crumbs. Mix very well. Cover and refrigerate for about 12 hours.

Line a loaf pan or terrine with parchment paper or foil, then line the dish with bacon strips, leaving any length of bacon slices to be folded over the top, once the meat is smoothed out in the pan/dish. Leave up to an inch of space between the top of the meat and the top of the pan.* Cover and top the meat with the folded over bacon and finish covering the top with lengthwise slices of bacon. Cover the pan/dish with a lid (if using a terrine) or foil. Put the loaf pan or terrine into a somewhat larger pan and add warm or hot water about 2/3 of the way up the loaf pan. If you are using a metal or heavy crock ware loaf pan or terrine, you can use hot tap water, but I used a glass loaf type dish, so I used just "warm" tap water, as hot water could crack the dish filled with the cold mixture. Put this all into a 350 F oven and let bake for 2 hours. Let the pâté cool, then place the loaf pan/terrine into the refrigerator for at least 12 hours.** Because I had the glass dish, I put a couple inches of warm water into the sink and I let the dish sit in the barely warm water for about 3 minutes, just to loosen it. You want the pâté to remain cold, not only for serving, but if it warms up, you will have fat running everywhere. You should be able to grasp the parchment paper or foil to make sure the pâté is loosened. Turn it out onto a plate/platter, cover with plastic wrap or foil and put it back into the refrigerator for about 20 to 30 minutes. Slice and enjoy. 

* I had just a little of the mixture left over and I just fixed it separately. 

** Some put a piece of foil or plastic wrapped cardboard over the top of the pâté and then they put canned food or other such things on the cardboard to act as a weight to compress the pâté while it is refrigerated. This step does help to firm the pâté even more, but it's up to you, as it isn't totally necessary.          


After the wrapping was removed, I returned the meat to the loaf dish for this photo. Say "Cheese!"

Served with some Dijon mustard, slices of baguette and some cornichons (small pickles)

WORD HISTORY:
Grind-This word has a somewhat difficult history, but it is distantly related to Latin "frendere," which meant, "to rub, to gnash the teeth." It is related to "ground," the noun meaning, "the Earth's surface, the soil making up the Earth's surface." It goes back to Indo European "ghrendh," which had the notion, "to rub, to rub together to break a substance down," with the extended meaning, "to crush." This gave Old Germanic "grindanan," with the same meaning. This then gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "grindan" (as well as a couple of compounds) meaning "to crush, to mill." This then became "grinden," before the modern form. The noun form was derived from the verb (circa 1000?), originally with the meaning, "a grinding or gnashing with the teeth." Until more recent times, if water power was not available, grinding grain required animal or human power to move the stones to crush the grain. This likely gave rise to the expression "the grind;" that is, "hard and boring work." Many of the modern Germanic languages use forms of "mill" and "to mill" for their words related to "grinding grain," but Dutch has the noun "grind" for "grit;" thus also, "gravel." I found a form in West Frisian, but whether this is a borrowing from Dutch or English, or an original form, is unclear. Swedish has "grand," meaning, "particle, dust particle, atom." German once had "grint," a noun meaning "skin ailment of flaky skin," which later progressed to mean, "crusty sore or wound," and also, "skin ailment of the scalp, ringworm (Kopfgrind)." Low German once had "grint," meaning "sand, grit," and Old Norse had "grand," meaning, "particles, grains, grit, pebbles," which also might have been borrowed by Low German as "Grand," but meaning "wheat bran." As can be seen, all forms tie in with "small items, particles of something."    

Tartiflette Potato Casserole From Savoy

I came across this dish quite by accident, but it is well worth fixing. The dish from the Savoy region of France (French: Savoie, pronounced as if, "sahv-wah"). It is a mountainous area, with historical connections to Italy and to Switzerland. The dish is really pretty simple to make. I have no idea what reblochon cheese tastes like, but I checked around and found others who used either Camembert or brie as substitutes. Reblochon is banned from import into the United States, because it is made from raw milk. This is not a low fat dish, but in order to cut some of the fat, you could use low fat sour cream and omit the butter. I sent a copy of the recipe to my doctor, but he didn't answer, because they had to keep him overnight in the hospital. Hm, wonder what that's about?

Ingredients:

2 1/2 pounds potatoes, in their jackets (skins)
2/3 pound slab bacon, cut into 1 inch x 1/2 inch strips 
1 large onion, chopped
1/3 cup dry white wine
1 pound reblochon cheese (substitute Camembert or Brie), cut into bite sized pieces, rind on
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 to 1/3 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons butter
butter or oil to grease dish

Simmer the potatoes in lightly salted water until fork/knife tender, but not mushy (about 15 to 20 minutes, but remember, the potatoes will be in the oven, so if they are a little firm, that's okay, and likely even better). Drain and let cool a bit, then peel and cut into 1/4 inch slices. In a skillet over medium heat, add the bacon strips. Cook until just starting to brown. Pour off all but about 1 1/2 tablespoons bacon fat. Add chopped onion, the salt and the pepper. Cook until onion begins to brown; this will take a few minutes. Add the wine and scrape up any brown bits from the bottom of the skillet. Cook until much of the liquid cooks off. Butter a baking dish and then cover the bottom with potato slices. Put the onion mixture over the layer of potatoes and spread it around to even it out. Place the remaining potato slices over the onion mixture, then spoon on the sour cream and spread it over the top potato layer. Now place the cheese pieces on top and spread some pieces of butter around on top also. Bake in a 350 F degree oven for 30 minutes, then turn the heat up to 450 F and bake for 15 more minutes. This should give the dish a little browning. 

With some asparagus ....

-

WORD HISTORY:
Slow-While certainly a common word, the ultimate origin of "slow" is unknown, and tracking down its relatives is a task. It goes back to Old Germanic "slaiwaz/slæwaz," which meant, "dull;" thus also, "blunt;" thus also, "sluggish." Perhaps too, the secondary meaning of, "mentally sluggish, not alert or sharp." This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "slaw" (long 'a'), meaning, "sluggish, lazy (obviously connected to "dull")." A verb form, "sláwian," meant, "to be sluggish;" thus, "slow." Another verb form, "asláwian," meant, "to become dull, sluggish." The adjective form then became "slow" circa 1200, and the meaning of, "sluggish, lateness;" thus, "being slow" moved to the fore, where it has been ever since. Some other forms in Germanic languages: Low German Saxon has "slee," meaning, "dull;" Danish "sløv," meaning, "blunt, dull;" Swedish "slö," meaning, "dull, sluggish, lazy;" Icelandic "sljór," meaning, "dimwitted, dull." German once had "sleo/sle," meaning, "dull, blunt, worn out." 

Salad Niçoise, Sort Of

The word "niçoise" (pronounced: nee-swaz) simply refers to olives cured in the French city of Nice, which is located in the well known resort region of the French Riviera in southeastern France, along the Mediterranean coast.* So "niçoise" essentially means "from Nice, of Nice." The small dark olives are commonly grown in that general area of France. There are many variations on this common French salad, but I'm using my own "no cook" recipe. Often in France, fresh green beans are briefly cooked, keeping some crispness, for this salad, and boiled potato slices or chunks may also be added. Further, the dressing used is a vinaigrette, which includes Dijon mustard, but I used a little different homemade dressing. (Note: The mark under the letter 'c' in the French rendering of "niçoise" is called a 'cedilla,' and it indicates that the 'c' is pronounced as an 's.' Besides French, it is most notably used in Portuguese and Catalan, a language of eastern Spain and a part of southern France.)  

INGREDIENTS:

Niçoise olives (or other black olives in olive oil, or Kalamata olives)
3 Roma tomatoes, quartered (or about 12 to 15 grape tomatoes, halved lengthwise)
1 small can chunk tuna in olive oil
5 anchovy fillets in oil, rinsed, left whole or chopped
3 hard-boiled eggs, quartered
1/2 medium red bell pepper, cut into strips
1/2 medium red onion, sliced thinly
salt & pepper to taste
a few basil leaves, torn into thirds or quarters
lettuce to line the serving plate
dressing (see recipe link below **)

Line a plate or platter with lettuce leaves (you can use any type: head lettuce, butter lettuce, Boston lettuce). Place the tuna in the center, then arrange the tomatoes, onions, red bell pepper, and olives around the tuna. Top the arrangement with the egg quarters and anchovies, then add the torn basil leaves, finish with salt and pepper, or leave this to the individuals to add per their own taste. I used no salt, as the anchovy fillets and dressing add salt, so I would be careful how much salt you add, if any. The salad dressing can be placed on the table in a dish with serving spoon, and the individual servings can be topped with the dressing per the person's own taste.
 
* On the Italian side of the border is the Italian Riviera, located in the Liguria region of Italy, but within the French Riviera is one of the world's smallest countries, Monaco.

** This is the link to the recipe article I did for French salad dressing: http://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2016/07/homemade-creamy-country-french-dressing.html

I used some whole black olives in oil, but the store was out of the other cured black olives they carry in their olive bar. I also added some Kalamata olives (the smaller brown colored olives), but they are in a brine. Niçoise olives might be difficult to find, so you may have to substitute other types. I kept the anchovies whole, so they could be seen in the photo, but you can chop them.

WORD HISTORY:
Sumptuous-This word, related to "consume," is a compound meaning, "splendid, seemingly expensive;" thus, "luxurious."  I will do its history from more recent to ancient. English borrowed the word from French "somptueux" in the second half of the 1400s. French, a Latin-based language, had the word from Latin "sumptuosus" (expensive), itself from Latin "sumptus," which meant "expense." This came from the Latin verb "sumere," meaning "to take, to acquire;" thus, "to buy." This came from the prefix "sub" (under, from below), the origins of which are unclear,^ and from "emere" (to take), "likely" from Italic^^ "emer/emo," derived from Indo European "em/um," with the notion of "take, acquire."

^ I "may" do a separate history of the prefix "sub," which "may" be an Italic form related to the Old Germanic word which gave English the modern word "up."

^^ Italic is a branch of the Indo European family of languages and includes Latin, Umbrian, Venetic, and others, most of which have died out. Latin's limited use today is mainly because its dialects evolved into several modern languages: Italian, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Rumanian, Catalan, Sardinian, and several others.