How to Make a French Family

by Samantha Vérant

  “We’re going to convert the garage into a fourth bedroom,” he said.

  “Why?”

  He pointed to my stomach. “We may need it.”

  I wasn’t so sure about trying again. It had only been a few months since I’d last miscarried. “Or maybe we won’t.”

  “Don’t be a pessimist,” said Jean-Luc.

  “I’m being a realist.”

  “How’s this for real? When your parents and sister come to visit, where will they sleep? We need a fourth bedroom.”

  He was right. And he said the right thing, one that didn’t set my hopes too high. A little part of me wanted to try again. Plus, it was the end of June, and my parents and sister were staying with us in the end of August. “Fine. You win. But who is going to do all the work?”

  I knew his answer before he uttered his response. It would be us. Hiring workers in France was tough, because the government taxed the wages paid to the contractor, up-charging sixty percent, sometimes more, to cover social security, insurance, and health care. Basically, we would become an employer. So if we hired a worker who wanted to charge us one hundred euro an hour, we’d actually be paying one hundred sixty euro an hour. Jean-Luc worked with the government on defense projects and, alas, he was against “black market” workers. I had nearly snapped putting together IKEA furniture. I couldn’t imagine the stress of building a room.

  Jean-Luc, like most Frenchmen, received more than his share of vacation days. Sadly, we were using most of them to fix up the town house prior to my American family’s arrival, and we’d do it while the kids were at their maternal grandmother’s house in Provence for six weeks. After dropping the kids off at the airport, we pulled up to Leroy Merlin, a hardware store similar to Home Depot.

  “So, where is all the stuff in the garage going to go?” I asked with a sigh.

  “That’s why we’re here. First, we need to pick out an abri de jardin.”

  “An abri?”

  “A garden cabin.”

  Three hours later, we finally decided on a pine frame, reminiscent of a little home one might find in the woods of Canada, complete with a little window and windowbox. Jean-Luc filed the necessary paperwork with the mairie (you need approvals for everything in France), cleared out a space in the back of our yard, and, since the cabin didn’t come with a floor, he set a cement foundation and built one himself.

  When the cabin arrived two weeks later, I was happy to learn that the kit we had ordered was as simple as putting a Lincoln Log cabin together—just a whole lot bigger. With the main structure completed, Jean-Luc worked on the roof while I applied a coat of weatherproofing varnish to both the outside and the inside. Jean-Luc could be a little bossy, and I almost quit.

  “Don’t forget to varnish in between every crack,” he’d say.

  Or “Don’t let the paint drip like that.”

  Or “Don’t forget to paint around the window.”

  I was tempted to hand him the brush and say, “Don’t tell me what to do,” and once or twice I threatened to walk off the job. But Jean-Luc would just laugh. And his laugh was infectious. We both had our tasks, and we got them done. Then it was time to plan the bedroom. Since we only had one and a half bathrooms, I wanted to include a shower and sink in our plans—an open Italian design of sorts. We spent the next weekend at Leroy Merlin, choosing tiles for our bathroom, fixtures, wood flooring, and paint.

  When I moved to France, I never thought I’d learn how to cut and lay tile, put up drywall, lay down a wood floor, or install a ceiling. But, on and off for a month, that’s what we did. My back hurt five million ways. My legs ached. My head felt like it was going to split open. During the work, I had to keep telling myself that the end result would be worth the frustration.

  My biggest freak-out moment came when we were working on the open bathroom. I’d picked out a large square tile with a faux mosaic pattern, which was supposed to be centered on the floor. Neither of us had taken the shower basin into account, and Jean-Luc was about to install the signature tile in a spot where the sink would completely cover it. And, considering there was only room for four large tiles, it wouldn’t be centered, the position going against all design sensibility.

  “Stop!” I said. “You can’t do that.”

  Jean-Luc shook his head and reached for the tile.

  “If you put that tile down, I’m lifting it right off.”

  “We bought it. We’re using it,” he said.

  I had to think quickly. Thankfully, we’d also had to buy a box of the plain tiles, so we had enough to finish the job. “Wait,” I said. “I have an idea. We can use it on the interior shower wall. Like a signature piece.”

  He scratched his chin. “It’s heavy, but, yes, that might work.”

  “We can make it work,” I said, whispering, “but it has to be centered.”

  Day after day, we quipped, and we sighed, but always came up with a solution in the end—not one fight threatening to shake the foundation we were building. Sometimes, just like in a marriage, when dealing with home renovation projects, it was necessary to compromise. And, once everything for the bathroom was installed, it looked beautiful—especially the mosaic tile.

  “Next summer we’ll redo the kitchen,” said Jean-Luc. “I don’t like it. It’s old and needs to change.”

  I cringed. We were just finishing up the first renovation project, and he was already planning the next. While we did get severely irritated and frustrated with one another at times, we didn’t argue, yell, or fight. I’d like to think it was because of how our relationship had begun—with letters and email—and that we communicated well. Jean-Luc had another theory: we were like bonobo chimpanzees. Apparently, the bonobo strategy was to have sex to keep conflict and violence out of their lives. Make love, not war!

  And that’s all I have to say on the subject.

  Recipes for Adventure

  JEAN-LUC’S CRÊPES

  Prep time: 10 minutes

  Cook time: 30 minutes (plus 45 minutes resting time)

  Makes: 10 to 12 crêpes

  Great for: a family meal, dessert, or a snack

  Wine suggestion: Bordeaux

  •2 cups all-purpose flour

  •3½ cups whole milk*

  •¼ teaspoon salt

  •3 large eggs

  •4 tablespoons butter, melted

  •Vegetable oil, for coating pan

  Combine the flour, milk, and salt in a medium mixing bowl. In a separate bowl, whisk the eggs until foamy. Little by little, fold the eggs into the flour mixture. Add the butter, and mix well. The batter shouldn’t be thick, but fluid. Place the bowl in the refrigerator, letting the mixture set for about 45 minutes. When ready, coat the bottom of 12-inch nonstick pan lightly with vegetable oil, and heat the pan on a medium-high burner. Once the pan is hot, ladle the batter into the pan. Quickly swirl the pan so the batter spreads evenly. Once the edges are slightly browned, flip the crêpe. Cook for about 1 minute more. Place the crêpe on a plate, cover with a warm kitchen towel, and continue stacking the crêpes, one on top of the other, under the towel until all the batter is gone. Fill the crêpes with your favorite sweet ingredients like fruit, jellies, jams, or Nutella, or use one of the recipes below for savory crêpe options.

  *Jean-Luc’s recipe is more fluid than others. “Crêpes should never be thick like a pancake,” he says. Hence, more milk.

  My Mom’s Chicken and Mushrooms in a Cream Sauce

  Prep time: 15 minutes

  Cook time: 10 minutes

  •8 premade crêpes

  •2 tablespoons unsalted butter

  •1½ cups mushrooms (Portobello, porcini, cèpes, or white), sliced

  •3 chicken breasts, precooked and sliced

  •¼ teaspoon nutmeg

  •1½ cups crème fraîche or sour cream

  •¼ cup dry white wine

  •¼ cup tarragon, plus extra for garnish

  •¼ cup chives, chopped, for garnish

  •
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

  Heat the butter in a large pan over medium heat. Add the mushrooms, sprinkle with salt, and cook for 5 to 7 minutes. Add the chicken, and sprinkle in the nutmeg. Once warm, add the crème fraîche, wine, and tarragon. Season with salt and pepper. Fill each crêpe, folding like a burrito. Garnish with chives and more tarragon. Serve with a crisp green salad with balsamic vinaigrette.

  Maxence’s Ham and Cheese Crêpes

  Prep time: 5 minutes

  Cook time: 10 minutes

  •8 premade crêpes

  •4 slices deli ham, cut into ½-inch wide strips

  •2 cups gruyère (or similar), grated

  •Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

  Place a crêpe in a pan over medium heat. Sprinkle ¼ cup of the cheese in the center of the crêpe. Once the cheese begins to melt, add the ham, and season with pepper. When all the cheese is melted, fold the crêpe like a burrito with a spatula. Repeat.

  CHICKEN TAGINE WITH APRICOTS, PRUNES, AND ALMONDS

  In France, our North African neighbors influence more than a few dishes. A tagine is a beautiful clay pot with a cone-shaped cover, making meals easy to serve. Although my cooking style is not typically Algerian or Moroccan, I’ve experimented with quite a few recipes using traditional ingredients. And, you bet, I’ll be experimenting with more.

  Prep time: 20 minutes

  Cook time: 60 minutes

  Serves: 6

  Great for: simple dinner party

  Wine suggestion: Beaujolais or Moroccan rosé

  FOR THE CHICKEN:

  •6 tablespoons unsalted butter

  •6 chicken breasts or thighs

  •2 tablespoons paprika

  •1 tablespoon herbes de Provence, plus extra for seasoning

  •4 cloves garlic, peeled, de-germed, and finely minced

  •1 large yellow onion, peeled and roughly diced

  •1 teaspoon ground cumin

  •1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

  •1 tablespoon fresh peeled ginger root, finely minced

  •1 teaspoon saffron

  •1 tablespoon tumeric

  •2 cups chicken stock

  •1 cup green or black olives

  •1 (12- to 15-ounce) can chickpeas, drained

  •1 red or yellow pepper, roughly diced

  •12 dried apricots, roughly chopped

  •12 dried prunes, roughly chopped

  •3 tablespoons honey

  •2 lemons, juiced

  •½ cup slivered almonds, for garnish

  •½ cup flat parsley, finely chopped, for garnish

  •¼ cup Lemon Confit à la Marocaine (p. 194), diced (optional)

  •Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

  FOR THE COUSCOUS:

  •Couscous, about ½ cup per person*

  •1 tablespoon paprika

  •1 lemon, juiced

  •Vegetable stock, about ½ cup per person

  •Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

  Heat a dash of olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Season chicken with the salt, pepper, 1 tablespoon of the paprika, and herbes de Provence. Cook for about 5 minutes on each side, until lightly browned. Transfer to a plate, and set aside. In the same pot, heat another dash of olive oil. Add the garlic and onions, cooking about 5 minutes, or until translucent. Stir in the cumin, the remaining paprika, cinnamon, ginger, saffron, and tumeric, and cook until fragrant. Return chicken to the pot. Add chicken stock, olives, chickpeas, peppers, apricots, prunes, and honey, and bring the mixture to a boil.

  Reduce heat, cover, and simmer for 30 minutes. In a small heated pan, toast the almonds. 10 minutes before serving the chicken, stir in the lemon juice.

  To prepare the couscous, place the uncooked grains in the tagine or serving dish. Sprinkle with the paprika. Add the lemon juice to the vegetable stock, and bring to a boil. Pour the stock over the couscous, and cover. After 5 minutes, fluff the grains with a fork.

  Place the chicken stew over the couscous in the tagine or serving dish. Garnish with parsley, toasted almonds, and lemon confit (optional). Pour any remaining stock into a gravy boat. Along with the stock, serve the tagine with a jar of puréed pimento peppers on the side.

  *One part couscous to one part vegetable stock.

  LEMON CONFIT À LA MAROCAINE (PRESERVES)

  Prep time: 15 minutes

  Cook time: 4 weeks rest time

  Makes: 1 jar

  Great for: tagines, salad dressings, risottos, vegetables, and seafood

  •1 Mason jar

  •Kosher or rock salt

  •4 to 5 small organic lemons (like Meyer lemons), washed well

  •¼ cup water

  Fill the bottom of 1 mason jar with the salt, just enough to coat the bottom. Trim the ends of each lemon, and then slice the lemons in half. Cut an X in the top of each half, almost quartering them, but making sure to not slice through to the bottom. Stuff each lemon half with salt and push into the bottom of the mason jar, sour face down, to release the juices. Fill the jar completely. Boil the water, and add to the jar, pouring over the lemons. Close the jar and store in a cool, dark place for 4 weeks—preserving the lemons. Then, store in a refrigerator until ready to use. When ready, discard the pulp—it’s the peel that is used. Rinse the lemon rinds in cold water to remove excess salt. Dice the rinds and add to your meal.

  SAM’S TOULOUSIAN FRENCH CREOLE GUMBO

  Prep time: 40 minutes

  Cook time: 2 hours

  Serves: 8 to 10

  Great for: dinner party or family meal with leftovers

  Wine suggestion: Cahors or Fronton

  •3 boneless, skinless chicken breasts

  •3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

  •1 pound andouille (or other pork sausage), sliced in rounds

  •½ cup vegetable oil

  •¼ cup all-purpose flour

  •5 to 6 tablespoons butter

  •1 large onion, peeled and diced

  •4 cloves garlic, peeled, de-germed, and finely minced

  •4 celery stalks, diced

  •1 green pepper, seeded and diced

  •1 red pepper, seeded and diced

  •3 to 4 tablespoons Cajun seasoning, premade or DIY*

  •½ cup flat parsley, coarsely chopped, plus extra for garnish

  •4 cups beef stock, homemade or from bouillon cubes

  •1 (14-ounce) can tomatoes, with juice

  •2 tablespoons tomato paste

  •2 to 3 bay leaves

  •3½ cups okra, fresh or frozen, sliced in ½-inch-thick rounds

  •32 to 40 pieces uncooked shrimp, peeled and deveined

  •Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

  Poach the chicken for 8 to 10 minutes in a pot of lightly salted boiling water. Remove with a slotted spoon, and set aside.

  Heat the oil in a Dutch oven (or a large heavy pot with lid) over medium heat. Add the sausage, cooking until browned on all sides, and remove, also setting it to the side. To make the roux, add the vegetable oil to the same pot, using the grease of the sausage for flavor. Sprinkle the flour over the oil, add 2 tablespoons of the butter, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, about 15 minutes, until the mixture turns a dark, golden color.

  Add 2 more tablespoons of the butter, the onion, garlic, celery, and peppers to the pot. Stir, and reduce the heat to low. Season with the Cajun seasoning, salt, pepper, and ¼ cup of the parsley. Cook for another 10 minutes, until fragrant. While this cooks, shred the poached chicken with your fingers.

  Add beef stock into the pot, along with the canned tomatoes, tomato paste, bay leaves, and cooked chicken and sausage. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and cover. Simmer for 35 to 45 minutes. Add in 2 cups of the okra. Cover again, and simmer for another 45 minutes.

  Add the shrimp and remaining okra 15 minutes before serving. Cover and cook for 15 minutes until ready to serve. Remove
the bay leaves, serve over rice (along with a few bottles of hot sauce!), and garnish with parsley.

  *This seasoning is something I make myself, and you can too! Just mix equal parts (about 1 tablespoon of each) garlic powder, paprika, onion powder, oregano, thyme, and cocoa powder. Then add about ½ tablespoon red pepper flakes and a dash of cayenne pepper. You can store this in a plastic container.

  ISABELLE’S GTEAU FONDANT À L’ORANGE

  Prep time: 15 minutes

  Cook time: 35 to 40 minutes

  Serves: 8 to 10

  Great for: This cake is fresh, moist, and delightful—it’s great any time!

  Wine suggestion: Champagne!

  FOR THE CAKE:

  •¾ cup unsalted butter, softened

  •2/3 cup granulated sugar

  •1 cup all-purpose flour

  •1½ teaspoons baking powder

  •3 eggs

  •Zest from 2 oranges, finely chopped

  •6 oranges, juiced (separate into juice from 2 oranges, and juice from 4 oranges)

  •⅛ cup confectioners’ sugar

  FOR THE PINEAPPLES:

  •1 tablespoon unsalted butter

  •6 to 8 pineapple slices, canned or fresh

  •2 to 3 tablespoons brown sugar

  Preheat oven to 325°F. In a large mixing bowl, combine the butter with the granulated sugar using a handheld blender. Add the flour, baking powder, and eggs, and mix well. Add the orange zest and juice from 2 oranges, and mix well. Pour into a lightly buttered springform baking pan, and bake for 35 to 40 minutes.

  In a separate bowl, pour in the remaining orange juice. Add in the confectioners’ sugar, whisking lightly. Take the cake out of the oven. Pour the juice mixture over it, and let the cake cool.

  In a separate pan, melt the butter until it foams. Sprinkle both sides of the pineapple slices with the brown sugar. Place the pineapple slices in the pan and cook, about 2 to 3 minutes on each side, until golden brown. When the cake is cool, place the pineapple slices on top. Cover the cake in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least an hour before serving.