Frankie Fights Food

After traveling 5,000 miles over two days, with one unexpected, expensive and exhausting layover in Paris, and then quitting smoking upon my return to the States, nothing sounded like a better idea than hitting the kitchen and churning out coquilles St. Jacques for my mother: a dish I have never made, with ingredients I’ve never worked with, in a kitchen I’m not used to, and running on zero endorphins, mild jet-lag and one bad temper. Clearly, I’m a glutton for punishment. My mom, however, was a genius, carefully tip-toeing around me as I frantically stirred and poached and pureed. She learned quickly after I nearly bit her head off for suggesting onions in place of the shallots the recipe called for, which were inconveniently (and inconsiderately, I might add) still growing in the garden.

After a few deep breaths and having to step away from the stovetop a couple times, I started to find my zen-like swing and realized that this seemingly complicated recipe is actually, like most French food, rather simple. It just seemed complicated to the amateur chef (me) or to your everyday American gourmand who thinks everything in French cuisine is complicated (mom). That’s one thing I’ve learned: the French are surprisingly good at convincing everyone else in the world of their elite status: in fashion, in food and wine, in language, etc. And we believe them because, well, it all just looks so amazing! Their clothes are cool. Their wine has names we can’t pronounce and goes with cheeses we’ve never heard of. And every photo you see of French food is always a piece of art, so pretty you’re almost remise to eat it.

Often it would appear that we take them way more seriously than they take themselves. This might not be entirely true, but in the case of the cuisine, I would dare to say it. All of the French food we know and love, everything we drool over, all those tender morsels that we pay an arm and a leg for in ritzy restaurants here, it all comes from the daily French life. In other words: the cuisine is the rustic, simple, delicious heart of France. Sure, the recipes have been given a haute cuisine flair by many famous chefs, but at its core, any truly great French recipe is something someone’s grandmother learned from her grandmother and on and on. If the home is the protective shell of the family life, the kitchen is its heart pumping out warm, rich waves of health and comfort.

Alright, I’m off my “cook up love” soapbox. For all my anxiety as I got started, this ended up being a really simple, super elegant recipe and a positively scrumptious lunch, served over a simple couscous. The nutmeg in the potatoes put me off at first, but mixed with the white wine sauce, it does a great job of mellowing out the tartness. And don’t worry too much about the scallops. I had never poached them before and having to do so seemed the perfect way to ruin the dish, but luckily you just start to poach them in this recipe and then let them finish cooking in the sauce and in the oven.

Now get in that kitchen and be fearless!

Recipe source: Coquilles St. Jacques @ BBCGoodFood.com