French home cooking

Cookbooks We Love: James Oseland's new 'World Food' title celebrates the iconic dishes of Paris

By Leslie Brenner

World Food: Paris by James Oseland with Jenna Leigh Evans; photographs by James Roper, 2021, Ten Speed Press, $26.

Backgrounder

This is the second installment of World Food, in which James Oseland covers the heritage recipes of great food cities around the globe. The series is inspired by Time-Life’s beloved “Foods of the World” cookbooks published in the 1970s. (World Food: Mexico City was published last year.) Oseland is the former long-time editor in chief of Saveur magazine.

The timing of this volume is particularly noteworthy, as interest in this style of French cooking — decidedly un-modern and informal, with a focus on iconic bistro dishes — is on the rise, both in France, where Hachette published a mammoth 1,000-plus-page cookbook from well known chef Jean-François Piège last December, and stateside, where restaurants like Bicyclette in Los Angeles and Frenchette in New York are hotter than ever. (Watch these pages, as more stories are on the way!) For those seeking entrée into the genre — or in the mood for a vicarious trip to Paris — Oseland’s book is a great place to start.

Why we love it

The slim, smallish, beautifully photographed volume conveys the current food mood of the City of Light. Flipping through its pages transports us — into the bistros, the kitchens of the city’s best home cooks, the marchés, the boulangeries. The Time-Life influence is expressed in approach and voice, making it feel familiar and nostalgic, while we delight in discovering dishes we know or have heard of (and suddenly crave) and others less familiar but no less enticing.

Some of the most successful recipes are the simplest, such as Carottes Râpées — the grated carrot salad that’s ubiquitous not just in Paris, but all over France. Here it gets an upgrade: Instead of grating the carrots (which most home cooks would do), these are cut into fine julienne. It’s labor-intensive, to be sure, but it results in a more elegant version of the homey dish, dressed with a lemony vinaigrette. Bonus: The carrots miraculously stay fresh and crunchy even after a couple days in the fridge. Not up for julienning? Go ahead — grate ‘em. (My permission, not Oseland’s.)

The Tartare Aller-Retour a l’Echalote shown above — Veal Burgers with Shallots — comes together in short order on a busy weeknight. Oseland’s headnote tells us that a tartare turned into a cooked patty is called tartare aller-retour — news to me, and how delightful, as aller-retour means “round trip.” The recipe serves two, so it was perfect for Thierry and me, but you could double or triple it for four or six.

I’m not supplying the recipe here just yet, as we’d have liked it even better with a little sauce made by deglazing the pan, so I’ll adapt it that way and revisit. (I’m ideologically opposed to browning meat and leaving the browned bits in the pan, when it’s so easy to turn up the heat, pour in a splash of wine and deglaze the pan for a voilà la sauce moment.)

You gotta try this

On the other hand, Oseland’s Gratin Dauphinois needs no enhancement. If you’re looking for a foolproof potato gratin, this one will take you heartwarmingly through through the season of indulgences. Entertaining soon? Plan your holiday meal around this beauty.

Easy to see why it made the cover of the book, with that gorgeous browned and crisp, beautifully textured top. Inside it’s creamy and luscious.

There’s no cheese involved (if it’s a cheesy gratin you’re after, this ain’t it), and Oseland departs from Gratin Dauphinois tradition in several ways: He has us use new potatoes or waxy potatoes rather than starchy ones, cut thicker than the usual thin-as-a-coin slices, and he boils them in milk and water first rather than baking them raw. I suddenly feel a Gratin Dauphinois story taking shape in my head, so do stay tuned on our French channel. (Or sign up for our free newsletter, if you haven’t already, so you don’t miss it.)

Small quibble

This book will probably be more useful to experienced cooks than neophytes, as the recipes sometimes need adjustments that should have been picked up in testing or editing. If, for instance, we were to layer the Hachis Parmentier (France’s answer to shepherd’s pie) in the 13 by 9 inch baking dish called for, that would have made quite the shallow dish, probably not more than half an inch deep. Suspecting that a pound of ground beef and a pound of potatoes would be more comfy in a much smaller pan, I used a 9-inch square, and even so, mine was barely deep enough to cover the tines of a fork. Fortunately, I knew better than to think that amount of meat and potatoes would serve 4 to 6 people; more like 3. But I was thrilled to be reminded of the French home-cooking classic, and Oseland’s, based on one by home cook Diane Reungsorn, gets the flavor just right.

Hurray for Almond Tuiles!

Oseland’s recipe for Almond Tuiles is right up my alley — its simple batter comes together in no time flat, with staple ingredients I always have on hand. (I keep a bag of sliced almonds in the freezer.) No electric appliances are required; just a whisk. You form the cookies by dropping spoonfuls onto a parchment- or silicone-mat-lined baking sheet (no, you cannot use waxed paper to make cookies, as the book suggests — the wax will likely melt!), then using the back of a spoon to spread them into thin circles.

Tested exactly as written, the tuiles — which are supposed to be very thin and crisp — were almost right, but soft in the middle, and leaving three inches between cookies on the baking sheet made it impossible to bake more than five or six on each sheet. That’s appropriate if you’re making classic tuiles you want to shape into cones (the classic roof tile shape for which they’re named) or cylinders, and don’t want them coming out of the oven too many at a time. But that’s not the idea here, so why not go for lots of fabulous crisp cookies in a snap?

Using Oseland’s excellent batter, I reduced the amount for each cookie and ask you to spread them thinner than he does — as thin as possible. Baking time drops by two minutes, and I halved the amounts of ingredients (except the almonds, which I upped) to keep a similar yield, and not keep you in the kitchen baking batch after batch.

Because they’re much thinner, they come out beautifully crisp throughout, absolutely delightful.

Still Wanna Make

A bunch of things! Country-Style Pork Terrine, for starters (if we can summon the nerve to buy that much fat). Quick-Cured Sardine Fillets (once I can find fresh sardines). Herb-Poached Fish with Beurre Blanc Sauce (this looks so luxurious!). Blanquette de Veau. North African Lamb and Vegetable Tagine. Crème Brûlée (need to replace Wylie’s broken blowtorch for that).

OK, your turn: What do you want to make?