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Zusatztext 43063665 Informationen zum Autor Susan Herrmann Loomis Klappentext A delightful celebration of everyday life in France through the lens of the kitchens and cooking of the author's neighbors! who! while busy and accomplished! still manage to make every meal a sumptuous occasion. Even before Susan Herrmann Loomis wrote her now-classic memoir! On Rue Tatin! American readers have been compelled by books about the French's ease with cooking. With In a French Kitchen! Loomis-an expat who long ago traded her American grocery store for a bustling French farmer's market-demystifies in lively prose the seemingly effortless je ne sais quoi behind a simple French meal. French cooks have the savoir faire to get out of a low-ingredient bind. They are deeply knowledgeable about seasonal produce and what mélange of simple ingredients will bring out the best of their garden or local market. They are perfectly at ease with cracked bowls and little counter space. In a French Kitchen proves that delicious! decadent meals aren't complicated. Loomis takes lessons from busy! everyday people and offers tricks and recipes to create a meal more focused on quality ingredients and time at the table than on time in the kitchen. Leseprobe The French love Food. I know, that’s like saying “The sky is blue.” But the French love of food isn’t just carnal. The French love of food is primordial. They love food the way we love our Grand Canyon, our freedom, and our waves of grain—primitively, instinctively, fundamentally. Their love for food is overwhelmingly universal—it permeates the air, the life, the lifestyle, and the habits of all in this country. This love of food resonated from the day I set foot in France and smelled butter in the air. It was a chilly day in March, and I had just arrived on an early flight. nothing was open in Paris that morning, and I walked to stay warm, inhaling that buttery smell that would balloon into intensity each time I passed a boulangerie. When one finally opened its doors, I stepped inside and bought my first French croissant. It shattered all over me when I bit into it, and I’ve never been the same since. This buttery, shattery moment led me to a French life. There was, of course, a lot more involved. But that croissant was like a perfect first kiss at the start of a lifelong romance. Since then, I’ve discovered just how much the French love food, which has allowed me to openly love it, too. I always loved it, which made me something of an extra-terrestre when I was in college and after. Then, friends and colleagues greeted my love of cooking with skepticism and friendly derision, as if to say, “Who on earth would want to spend time cooking?” The minute I came to France I was surrounded by like minds, and my somewhat suppressed passion came fully out of the closet. Fast-forward to a life in France raising children, writing books, teaching cooking classes, settling myself into a culture where food is the linchpin, the gathering point, the warmth in a cold world of politics, social upheaval, complex religious persuasions, and every- thing else that composes our contemporary French world. Here, I’m surrounded by people who love food. Take Edith, my friend and cohort in many an exploit for thirty years. She is the antithesis of the stay-at-home mom, though that’s what she’s been for nearly thirty years. The thing is, she coddles no one, believes that a harsh life is better than a soft one, wears Birkenstock sandals every day of the year regardless of the temperature, and is always dressed in items of designer clothing that she assembles with the flair of a diva. As for her four kids, they were born, they were fed, they were schooled, and now they’re out of the house, all of them strong individuals with passions of their own. What did Edith do with her time? She painted, landscapes and port...
