Comfort Foods and Indulgences

Clafoutis. You've eaten one. You've probably baked one. You've definitely heard of one. But can you define one? What is a clafoutis?

It's not quite a cake or a custard or a flan or a pudding. It has been called lots of names, including "a baked fruit dessert," "a baked custard with fruit," "a crustless pie," "a fruit-fill flan," and my personal favorite, "a sweet frittata." Purists called it a flognarde, but that lacks the panache of clafoutis (pronounced cla- foo-tee).

Clotilde Dusouslier, the charming Parisian food blogger, calls clafoutis "the epitome of the French grandmotherly dessert: unpretentious, easy to make, and blissfully comforting."

Call it what you will, especially if you're high school French is a little rusty. Just be sure to make one.

This was our breakfast Sunday morning.  Aren't they cute?  They were very, very good.  It's the whole egg and the toast combo all together in one nice package.

These are so easy to make and wouldn't they be splendid on a brunch buffet table?  The best part, you can easily make two, ten, a hundred, whatever your needs are at the moment. 

I think there are a lot of variations you could do nicely with this recipe, such as, swap out the Parmesan cheese with grated Gruyere or crumbled blue cheese to give a different taste.  Use feta and substitute oregano for the other herbs for a Greek flavor.

I used sourdough but I think this would also be nice with onion or brioche rolls as long as they are sturdy.

Any way you put these together, they will be great.

Don't waste food. That's what my grandmother always told me. I took that simple idea to heart.

When we go out to eat, I bring home what we don't eat. Especially the bread. Why let good bread get thrown away?

And if you're in the grocery store, and you see a loaf of marked-down white bread, buy it and you'll be able to make a dessert that's as easy-to-make as it is elegant looking and delicious.

I love Austin, Texas. The people are warm, the food is amazing, and the weather – well, let's not talk about the weather. Let's stick with the people and the food. One morning while Jeff and I were eating breakfast at an Austin eatery, we started chatting with a lovely elderly couple next to us. The conversation quickly turned to food: we talked brisket, chili, Shiner bock (which they drink from the bottle), and cornbread. When I told the wife that I had never made corn bread in a skillet, she replied, in a dramatic affected Southern accent, "Well, dahlin', if it ain't made in a cast-iron skillet, then it ain't cornbread."

She shared how her skillet had been in her family for three generations and how she wouldn't dream of making cornbread in a regular metal pan or glass baking dish. I would have loved to share a sentimental tale about my family's cast-iron skillet and corn bread recipe, but the truth is, we don't have one. Sure, my mom made cornbread, but it usually came from a Jiffy box, and I wasn't gonna tell that to the Texan with the third generation cast-iron skillet.