A Gift From the Heart

Chocolate & Zucchini

Every time Himself and I visit our dear pal John Remy, I go straight for his copy of Chocolate & Zucchini, Clotilde Dusoulier’s delightful Parisian cookbook. I’m drawn to it like a cat to a fish cart. I love browsing in it, admiring Clotilde’s evocative photos and dreaming of what I’d like to cook from it. Her pix of the markets in Montmartre in particular remind me of the week Himself and I stayed in a flat in Rue Coysevox and prowled the markets in search of ingredients for our meals, practicing our French on the shop keeps who wanted to practice their English on us. During each visit with John I scratch out a recipe from the book onto a scrap of paper and spirit it home to make the next day.

But one of the things I love most about this particular book is its state of fatigue, of loving use, evidenced by all the dried food spills and dog-eared pages. I love the look and the feel of a cookbook in this state. John spent a summer cooking his way through the entire thing, and it shows–in the best possible way. You can tell it is a muchly used and appreciated book.

lots of use, lots of love

I’ve looked in secondhand bookstores and on Amazon, not just to buy a copy, but to try to find one that has been similarly used, but to no avail. So I decided to buy a new copy and see if I could render it well used through lots of cooking and some, let’s be honest, intentional sloshing and splashing of ingredients, but…

Looks like at least a full serving on these pages...

this past weekend John handed me a present that was obviously a book. He’d been to Powell’s Books in Portland the previous weekend, so I figured it was a treasure he’d found there for me. It was Chocolate & Zucchini, but not just a copy. It was his copy that he was bestowing on me. He’d decided that, as we sometimes do, it was time to let go of something special when the right person to have it came along.

Flipping through it, I found at least a couple dozen little tabs he’d used to mark his favorite recipes. Bits and flecks of food. A piece of dried lavender leaf. And a couple of pages so firmly stuck together with a bit of pasty mango (at least I think that’s what it was!) that I may never be able to separate them. I even found my own handwriting in there, from the time I’d asked his permission to clarify the soufflé recipe so he’d be reminded to make sure the milk added to the roux blanc was hot when making the bechamel.

Not to short Clotilde any of the money she’d have made if I’d bought a brand-spanking new copy of her book. Something tells me she’d understand the sheer heart-value of having such a special tome. I treasure this book, and every time I cook from it, I’ll be reminded of John and of the sort of generosity that springs from giving such a gift. And the generosity that springs from sharing recipes from one’s own family as Clotilde has done.

Thanks, John! Merci, Clotilde!

Gâteau au Yaourt

from Chocolate & Zucchini by Clotilde Dusoulier

Two aspects of this cake make it a winner in my book–it’s quick and easy (no mixer required!), and it’s not too sweet. I guess that’s three. Okay, here’s a fourth reason–it’s amenable to all sorts of modifications. Like Clotilde, I love to tinker and substitute and experiment. For me a recipe is just the point of departure.

1/3 c. vegetable oil, plus 1 tsp. more to grease the pan

1 c. plain, unsweetened yogurt, preferably whole milk

1 cup sugar

2 large eggs

1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

1 Tbsp. light or amber rum (optional but recommended)

1  2/3 cups all-purpose flour

1  1/2 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. baking soda

a good pinch of fine sea salt

Preheat oven to 350ºF. Grease the sides of a 10-inch cake pan or springform with oil and additionally line the bottom with baking parchment if you’re not using a springform.

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together yogurt and sugar. Whisk in eggs, one by one. Add vanilla, oil and rum, and whisk again.

In another bowl sift together remaining dry ingredients. Pour dry mixture into wet mixture and whisk just until combined.

Pour batter into prepared pan and bake for 35 to 40 minutes, until the top is golden brown and a knife inserted into the center comes out clean. Transfer pan to cooling rack and let stand for 10 minutes. Loosen springform or run a knife around the pan to loosen if not using a springform, and flip the cake onto a plate, then flip it back onto the rack to cool some more. Serve slightly warm or at room temperature.

This cake has a delightfully springy quality and great body. I had only non-fat yogurt on hand, but it was Greek yogurt, so I don’t think the texture suffered at all for that (by the way, my springform is a 9-inch pan). In place of the rum, I substituted brandy infused with lemon peel, left over from making Laurie Colwin‘s gingerbread and added the zest of one lemon and 1 teaspoon of dried lavender blossoms. See what I said about tinkering?!

If you don’t fall face down on it and devour it all in one go (which could happen, it really could!), you can wrap it in foil and keep it at room temperature for several days. Top it with anything you like. Anything at all.