Because. Paris.

I read an excellent article this week about a woman who walked out of hate. She was born into it, grew up with it, excelled at spreading it, and then learned to hate the hate. She was the granddaughter of the founder of the Westboro Baptist Church. And her journey out of the church and away from her family was told in The New Yorker.

From the deepest most intransigent place she came to understand her opponents and then be convinced of their opinions - and it all started when she decided to confront her enemies on twitter. So it's possible to grow out of hate.

I have to believe it. In the wake of the Paris attacks on Friday the 13th, which amplified the muted effects of the horrific bombings in Beirut, the attack on the Russian plane, I have to believe that it's possible for some to travel through hate and out the other side - if it doesn't kill them.

I've been struck by a number of things - the racism that leaks out of normal looking people when they think they've got their chance to spread hate, and the reaction of people now who won't stand for it, who will marshall their energies to help fund the rebuilding of a burned down mosque in Peterborough, who will march in protest of a violent attack on a Muslim woman in a Toronto neighbourhood, who will start an online social media hashtag pledging to support any Muslim transit riders who feel threatened - and who keep their wits about them as we face the biggest refugee crisis since the second world war. Of course we'll take them in. Of course we must. If we don't, then I don't know who we are anymore.

Also, I heard historian Margaret McMillan make an important point on CBC Radio yesterday. When a political leader 'declares war' on these people, he or she is giving them the legitimacy of a state. "These are criminals," she said. By 'declaring war', it gives them power.

And, as usual, in my experience with the more horrible side of our humanity - there is the good. The people who offered their houses to strangers on Friday night in Paris, the taxi drivers who turned off the meters to offer free rides home, the people who jumped on others to protect them from the crazed bullets. As Trevor Noah put it so beautifully the other night on The Daily Show, "Our prayers will be with Paris. Our prayers will be with the people. But let's not forget before we fight, to love."

Two weeks ago I made French Onion Soup - and yes it was for the first time. Not only making it, but actually eating it. Do not ask me how I made it past the half century mark, with a chunk of that time spent in Quebec, avoiding this culinary version of a fleecy blanket. It was a bitter November day - raining like global warming was coming with vengeance in its heart. So it was perfect. Last week, I mentioned it to my friends on Facebook and promised the recipe...and so, now when food can comfort so many, I am posting about onion soup. The French kind. I am, after all, one sixteenth French. Okay the only thing thinner than that blood, would be beef stock. Of which there's plenty here.

C'était delicieuse. Oh, and...Je suis humain.

French Onion Soup - from the clever cusses at Epicurious

5 tbsp unsalted butter, divided
3 lbs medium sized vidalia onions, halved lengthwise, peeled and thinly sliced
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp freshly ground pepper
1/2 tsp sugar
1 1/2 cups dry white wine
6 cups beef broth*
10 sprigs thyme
2 bay leaves
1 baguette
1 garlic clove, cut in half lengthwise
2 tsp sherry, which I did not have, so I used Madeira wine
4 oz Gruyère cheese, grated

*My dear vegetarians, you could use vegetable broth, just make sure you really cook those onions down to a deep caramelized colour - that's where you'll pull the most flavour.

Serves 4. Recipe calls for 4 - 16 oz oven-safe ramekins - I have 12 oz ones which were plenty big enough and gave us leftovers.

In your large Dutch oven, melt 3 tbsp of the butter over medium heat. Add the oil and the onions, and cook about 15 minutes, or until softened. Then add the salt, pepper and sugar and continue cooking until deep, deep golden brown. Stir occasionally. This should take about 40-45 minutes. Turn down the heat if you're getting scorched onions instead of caramelized onions. Be patient. (Biggest lesson I always have to remind myself of in cooking - patience.)

Once you've got good colour (this will be where the flavour is), add the wine and increase the heat cooking until all the liquid has evaporated.

Tie the thyme and bay leaves with string in a bundle and add to the pot along with the beef broth. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer for 20 to 30 minutes. Remove from heat and whisk in the remaining 2 tbsp of butter.

Turn on the broiler. Cut two slices of baguette per ramekin. Place on a rimmed baking sheet and place in oven until crispy, not brown - just over a minute. When they're done rub one side of the bread with the garlic and set aside.

Put the ramekins on the baking sheet. Add a 1/2 tsp of sherry, or Madeira, to the bottom of the bowls. Carefully ladle in the onion soup. Add two slices of baguette and top the bread with the grated cheese. Carefully put under the broiler until melted (which only took a couple of minutes for me, although the recipe says for 4-8 minutes).

The soup can be made up to 3 days ahead. Or it can freeze for six months. It was also delicious the next night.

Because. Parce que...Paris.

photo credit: http://greatermalaysia.com/2015/11/14/she-made-a-distasteful-comment-on-the-paris-attacks-his-response-deserves-a-standing-ovation/

fries don't have calories if you eat them with mussels and family in Paris

July in Paris.
It meant rain and sun, moules et frites, baguettes et croissants, cafe creme et wine in small jugs.










I was with my aunt, uncle and my Mum. And you know the expression - an army travels on its stomach? I come by it honestly. Here my aunt muscles a mussel.

This was moments before the clouds rolled in and trapped us under the awnings in Place du Tetre, near Sacre Coeur






And this is how much my Mum hates thunderstorms, especially outside, under a tent, on the highest point in Paris.










Look at how they display their local produce - they're just so French. This was at a supermarket in Normandy, on our way back to England.

Zap

I have a memory of tagine. It’s from Paris. I was a tagine virgin. I had just climbed the ramparts of Notre Dame cathedral. I walked among the weird-headed gargoyles – at the ready to spit rain down on the poor mortals on the ground.

Suddenly the bells clanged to life, and I found myself walking with a limp, all hunched over. It was glorious.

And when my imagination and my body came back to the ground, I was hungry.

I found a restaurant on the Left Bank (well it was left from where I was standing) – a little North African place and thought I’d treat myself to a little tagine. When you’re sitting in a restaurant on your own, with no one to eavesdrop on, you look around with all your senses – and I wanted time to stand still for just a moment while I let it sink in that I was in Paris, sipping wine, and waiting for my tagine to head out of the kitchen.

It was one of my best meals there - I found Paris difficult to eat in on a backpacker's budget. My absolutely favourite meal, was a loaf of rustic bread, some raw cheese and a tomato that I picked up on my way to the Louvre and ate on the grass before going in to see Napoleon's tomb. 

Anyway, tagine is one of those dishes that grabs your nose and won’t let go…and it ain’t as difficult as it may look – believe me, I’d know.

A couple of weeks ago I was leafing through a Canadian magazine that had a recipe for tagine. And it was one of those rare moments I had almost everything at hand or in the cupboard. I had just bought a piece of fresh lamb from our favourite place: Fresh from the Farm – and now I knew what I had to do with it.

Here’s a strong recipe from what I thought would be a bland source…I was wrong. It will zap your home with beautiful, exotic scents - it actually drew our dear landlady Diana, an adventurous eater herself, downstairs to see what was up in the stewpot. (She's off in Turkey right now having her own food adventures which she promised to remember for me.)

Moroccan Lamb Tagine with Apricots and Golden Raisins
Adapted from Canadian Living, September 2006 issue:

3 lb boneless lamb shoulder
2tsp ground cumin
1 ½ tsp cinnamon
1 tsp each salt and ground ginger
½ tsp each turmeric and pepper (I overdid it on the turmeric, still worked out)
2 cups chicken stock (if you have any homemade…oh my…what a difference)
1 tsp saffron threads
¼ cup slivered almonds
3 tbsp vegetable oil
2 onions, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
4 carrots, sliced diagonally (I would steam these a little ahead, I was standing around waiting for them to cook through)
1 cup sliced dried apricots
½ cup golden raisins (I only had Thomson raisins, which worked fine)
1 tbsp liquid honey
1 tbsp fresh mint (actually does make a difference even though it’s a garnish)

Trim the fat from the lamb and cut into 1 ¼” cubes. Set aside.
In a large bowl, combine cumin, cinnamon, salt, ginger, turmeric and pepper; remove 1tsp and set aside. Add lamb to bowl and toss. Set aside.
In sauce pan, heat stock until hot; add saffron and let stand for 10 minutes.
Meanwhile in large shallow Dutch oven, toast almonds over medium heat until golden. Remove and set aside.
Add 1 tsp of oil to the pan, heat over medium high heat and brown the lamb in batches, adding more oil as necessary. (I found this went very quickly – so keep an eye on it). Transfer to a plate.
Add remaining oil to the pan; fry onions, garlic and reserved spice mixture over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until garlic is golden, about 5 minutes. Return lamb and any juices to pan. Add stock mixture and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low; cover and simmer, stirring occasionally, until lamb is tender, about 1 hour.
Add carrots, apricots, raisins and honey; cover and simmer, until carrots are tender about 30 mins. (I would steam the carrots a bit to get them started)
Uncover and boil over medium heat until thickened to consistency of gravy, about 5 mins.

The recipe says this can be made ahead – just let it cool for 30 mins. Then put in an airtight container and refrigerate. Keep for no more than two days.

Then sprinkle with almonds and mint. And enjoy…I served this with rice…and not a drop was left - and I wanted to know if it tasted better the next day...I have a feeling it would. Bon Appetit.