American Pancakes



It is necessary to provide the flavor of the American Pancake to our children.  They are American after all and we live in France.  Fluffy, bready, num-num covered in fake maple syrup is not common in the Gers.  So, we do our little part to keep on keeping on.


It all started when I saw Aunt Jemima winking at me.  When did Aunt Jemima arrive in France?  I’m like, “yeah!  my kids have no idea what this tastes like!”  and then I’m like, “I’ll bet in French they pronounce “Aunt Jemima” like “Aunt Jemima”  we need to act.



For the first time ever, I managed to get the baking powder right.  In America we have “double acting baking powder.”  Here you have “Levure Chimique.”  I’ve flattened most things on most occasions.  They sell baking powder in packets here in France.  So with this guy, I chucked in one packet per egg.  I feel that maybe, somehow, I double acted it.  It goes like this for six hungry, extremely tired and crazy Curtis humans:

3 cups flour, we used local ancient

4 eggs

4 packets of French Baking Powder

3 tablespoons of sugah

3 cups of milk

4 tablespoons of melted butter

2 teaspoons of salt

A splash of Armagnac or Rhum


… mix however you like, then ladle on a hot, hot griddle




After a puff or a bubble pop, flip.



Brown is good.  Too brown and the husband complains.




They need less time after the flip.


Pile on a plate.  Butter bud.  Pour some syrup American.   Eat and thank yo’ mama.  She did this dinner on a Thursday because things can sometimes be crazy.  Sometimes, American pancakes are fast-food when fast-food n’existe pas in the country.

My Tenderoni


Along with our beef, we also do veal.  Now this is not little baby veal stuck in a pen without daylight.  This is veal along side its mum, out on the field eating grass and drinking milk.  They become fat and tender and as it turns out, incredibly tasty.  I’ve not known veal to be beefy, but our veal … is beefy.  A total surprise.  And tender. Tenderoni.

One of the cuts of veal is Tendron.  It’s basically a beef poitrine ( belly ).  I’ve cooked Tendron many times in many ways.  One of my favorites has been in stir-fry.

Cooking Tendron is fine and all were it not for this nagging Bobby Brown song that me, all by myself, is tormented with.  As I love my husband very much, I thought I should share with him the tune that dominates my brain while I cook lunch or dinner or even think about veal cuts.  Because he’s my tenderoni, he’s the only one.  I’ve been playing this song for him so he understands my plight.  So he feels pain.


It’s a lovely cut.  Quick to fry up.  Quick to eat.  Gives you that energy you need to do your job until your next meal.

And for those following along at home, I offer you “Roni”  … my tenderoni.  This Tenderoni was served with Coles’ slaw, but every Tenderoni is unique.  Only tenderonies can give a special love.  A special kind of love that makes ya feel good inside

Coconut Milk in a Soup and Our Next Porking


A lovely soup for a cold night. It’s an African, coconut soup made with a Malawi curry blend. Easy, easy to make and totally belly warming. I’m always looking for soup with fat in it. The more saturated fat I eat, the better I feel. Unlike the connotative feeling of the word “saturated,” if you eat saturated fats, you will not suddenly become saturated in fat yourself.

– two cans coconut milk
– 1 cup chook stock ( or cube )
– Malawi curry spices ( corriander, cumin, pepper, cayenne, dry mustard, cumin, turmeric, cloves, cinnamon : all blendy blendy in a cheap coffee grinder )

– let that bubble and toil for twenty minutes or when you’re ready. And taste it damn it, then add salt

Standby for tomorrow, for we shall roast a giant pork leg that requires a man hand to help butterfly and guide to a perfect Sunday lunch. We may need to invite the neighbors.


My Standing Mixer, It Broke


I don’t want to talk about it.  It was my own, damn fault.



Don’choo worry, the motor is just fine.  I sort of “cut some teeth” on my big, bad mixing friend.



He was affectionately known as the “pig fucker.”  Lovely dark pewter finish, no frills … I hope we can get him back to his happy place soon.

Your Kitchen


If your kitchen is cleaner than this by high noon, then you suck.  Okay, no, this is the kitchen of not a chef, but a person that cooks that is a lazy bastard.  Because just like a sneeze after freshly applied mascara, you need to wipe that shit while it’s wet.  Scoop your goop.  Dish your meat.  Take a second to wash that pan.  Or it gets all sticky and crusty.  No good.  The extra time you spend de-crusting, you could be doing magic with ice cream or creamy chocolaty things or sweet cream or having sex.  Get the kitchen in order.     No, seriously, come on, do it.  Do it.