Ribs, French Style

Ok.  I lied.  This recipe came not from France, but from my open, semi-perverted, so-called mind.  But, I timidly admit, it is delicious and just the thing to slap in the oven at noon, or before you go to work and yank out to cheers and salutations when you get home.

I’m a big believer in simple is good, effortless is better.  Two caveats:  the food must be tasty and it must be nutritious.  Also healthy?  Well, that’s a moving target, depending on the expert and the latest fads science.

This recipe does have a bit of a French background, somewhat resembling cassoulet, which I wrote about earlier.  How do they differ?  This rib dish is meatier and spicier.

The Recipe

6-9 Country-style ribs  (ribs with half a pork chop attached)

Salt (lightly), pepper, white pepper, smoked paprika for the ribs

6-8 Strips lean bacon, chopped (see photo)

6-8 Inch piece of smoked sausage, sliced in rounds (see photo)

1 large onion, halved and sliced thinly (see photo)

3 Gloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced

3 Small, or 1 large tomato, peeled, seeded and chopped (see note on how to peel tomatoes)

3 Tablespoons minced parsley (2 for the dish and 1 for the breadcrumb topping)

3 Cans Cannellini Beans (or sub Great Northern Beans, or use a combo)

2 Cups (or more if needed) chicken broth, plus an extra spoonful of granulated or condensed broth.  I suggest LOW sodium as this dish can get too salty in a hurry.

1 Heaping cup of breadcrumbs

4 Tablespoons softened butter

Heat the oven to 225ºF.  (This is for the casserole. You will need a grill for the ribs.  I use a gas-fired grill, for simplicity)

First step is to put the seasoned ribs on the grill.  The idea is to brown them, not cook them through.  I like a little crust on mine. When they are crusty, take them off and set them aside.

Slice the onion, garlic and the smoked sausage.  Chop the bacon and mince the parsley. Peel, seed and chop the tomato.  Note on Peeling Tomatoes:  Put the tomatoes in the sink and slowly pour boiling water over them.  The peel will come off easily.

Sauté the onions and garlic until they are translucent.  In a separate pan, fry the bacon until the fat is rendered and the bacon is beginning to crisp.   With a slotted spoon, remove the bacon and add it to the onion mixture.  Cook for 3-4 minutes longer.

Realize that nothing needs to be fully cooked.  It will stay in the oven for hours!

Add the smoked sausage and chopped tomato to the onion mixture and stir.  Now add two cans of beans, drained, and one can of beans un-drained.  Stir.  

Add the parsley and stir.

Add the chicken broth and taste.  You want a strong broth flavor and you want the broth to be slightly soupy, so the dish does not dry out.

Place the ribs in a large ovenproof pan.  Ladle the bean mixture over the ribs, then cover and place in the oven. On such a low heat you may leave the dish in the oven as long as you want.  I left mine for over six hours.

Half an hour before serving, mix a heaping cup of breadcrumbs with softened butter and a tablespoon of chopped parsley. Stir well.

Take the casserole out of the oven, remove the lid, and sprinkle the buttered breadcrumbs over the casserole.

Return the uncovered casserole to the oven, and increase the oven temp to 350ºF.

Cook until the breadcrumbs have browned.

This will feed as many people as you have ribs.

Off to the German Bakery

Making my morning trek to the bakery, I often listen to French lessons on my iPhone.  Why French?  Lots of explaining to do, but to continue:

So, this very odd American strolls down the street casting out a string of very random phrases in French. Nobody seems to be with him and no one dares approach to ask.

I don’t understand what you mean.

You don’t understand what I mean?

Do you understand what I mean?

I am excited to understand what you mean.

I didn’t understand yesterday, but will try to understand what you mean today.

Understanding what you mean is very important to me.

Does this mean you understand me?

Can you understand me when I tell you what I mean?

Some people only stare and Germans are among the world’s best starers.  Others gather their children protectively.  Those walking their dogs cross the street and readjust the leashes.  I smile.  They clutch their children closer.

The German bakery (Bäckeri), just fifteen minutes away, is my German wakeup.  I chat with random people, know most of the staff, read a book, drink a couple of coffees, and munch a redolent roll just retrieved from an industrial oven that billows out steam and fresh bread aroma when a bakery clerk cracks open the door.

D--- is a beautiful woman, in her mid twenties and pregnant with their second child.  She works swing shifts, modified to allow one parent to take their son to the kindergarten.  Yes, Germans use the same word, which in German means Children’s Garden.  Oh, that it were so in every school everywhere.

D---’s husband is a metal worker and the money is good.  Her back aches some.  Her baby is doing fine, but she sometimes has morning sickness.  I pull a trashcan over and she smiles.

The apprentice program is still a bulwark of jobs in Germany.  Electricians, carpenters, bakery clerks, plumbers, as well as office workers all serve an apprenticeship of some length. For bakery clerks it’s a couple of months, long enough to impart sufficiency in every phrase of the operation. And it’s a big operation, with not only more than half a dozen satellite outlets, but also trucks leaving for deliveries to shops and restaurants and grocery stores in a steady flow of morning traffic.

Some of the ladies here have been here for years. Pleasing smiles and welcoming attitudes are ingrained.  Every customer is respected and the customers are varied. Some workers in well-worn work clothes come in for a coffee and roll to go (to take with, in German), others want a sandwich.  One woman, whom I believe works at a nearby kindergarten, strolls out with a huge sack of rolls every early morning.  If you get there at 0730, you’ll have missed her.

Interesting how the clerks ask the questions in a different way than we do in English.

Instead of “Who’s next?”  They say, “Who comes?”

Instead of “Anything else?” or  “Is that it?” the Germans say, “Another wish?”

M--- is a longtime counter clerk and she always asks about my family.  “How’s your wife?”

“My wife?  I’m not married.”  I pat the seat beside me.  M--- gives me a reluctant smile or grimace.  Hard to tell.  With a dismissive wave, she goes back to work.  But, she does come back later and steps much closer.

Mostly it’s the people that keep me coming back, but it’s also a very nice and comfortable spot to observe the changing of the seasons based solely on what customers are wearing.  They’re in scarves and jackets now and the parade of folks is as interesting as their sartorial styles.  Open toed sandals have given way to clunkier footwear. The young mothers push one well-wrapped babe in a stroller and eye a toddler making a mess of the glass on the display counters.  Retired men and women sit at one of the three tables and chat while they sip milk coffee and pack in enough sweet rolls to supply Mrs. Betty Buns’ obesity club.  The older wives come in, dressed to the nines, the way American women used to dress before our culture gave up the ghost.

But, German youth have spent enough time immersed in American TV culture that they also sport ripped jeans, untied sneakers, an array of tattoos and hair colors formerly reserved for rodeo clowns.

From my experience, German bakeries serve as the same kind of social leveler as pubs do in England.  Everyone is welcome and everyone comes by, even if a strange American comes through the door spouting unrelated sentences in French.

La Bonne Auberge: A Jewel in the French Culinary Crown

La Bonne Auberge  (The Good Inn) sits unobtrusively in a drab suburb of Forbach, France, so close to Germany you can only tell you’ve crossed the border when the roasty smells of wurst and beer disappear.  Suddenly, it’s France and just as suddenly the food changes, and you’ve left behind the tried and true meat and potatoes. My German friends won’t like to hear this, but you haven’t just stepped up a rung, you’re on a different ladder, surrounded by ambrosial clouds.  I always say, the French can teach anyone how to eat.  At La Bonne Auberge even the French can learn a thing or two.

In this small inn, one does not eat; one dines amid the tinkle of sparkling crystal and glint of polished silverware.  Awarded a Michelin Star some time ago, it’s never lost that distinction.

A word about the Michelin star system for American readers:  One Star:  So amazing, you will insist on telling even complete strangers you happen to pass on the street.  Two Stars:  It’s here where God’s angels gather for a meal.  Three Stars: God has a permanent reservation, and the waiters call him by his first name.  That’s according to those who do the rating. 

My rating system is different, but what do I know?  FYI:  I’ve visited many Michelin starred restaurants.  And what is it I look for?

My ultimate question:  Would I return, even if my credit card were full and my bank account low?  For La Bonne Auberge, the answer is:  Three thumbs up and the next round is on me!!

Another question:  Would I invite a friend to join me and still pick up the bill?  For La Bonne Auberge the answer is:  It would have to be a friend who not only knows what Dom Perignon is, but knows how to spell it.  In other words, a close friend and congenial gourmet, with table manners worthy of a prince or princess.

Still another question:  Would I walk away thinking I could have done better?  After a meal at La Bonne Auberge, the answer is NON, NON, et NON.

Want to read some more specifics about Michelin Stars?  http://www.andyhayler.com/star-system

Isabelle (standing), a woman with a compelling sense of color and design,  and Lydia, whose bright eyes and warm smile shower you with imagination, innovation and culinary courage.

Let’s get to the meat of the matter.  Two sisters, Isabelle and Lydia both own and run La Auberge, with help from significant others.  They began circa 1980 or 81, when Isabelle was 19 and Lydia 21.  To clean things up in your mind, Isabelle is the sommelier, and maître d’, and interior decorator.  Lydia is the innovative magician in the kitchen. 

In Lydia’s case, Chef is far too bland a word.  What she brings to the kitchen is ingenuity, imagination, and sensuality that take your breath away with each glance and each bite.

La Bonne Auberge is more than a restaurant, much more.  Part artist’s atelier, part elegance, part design studio, and above all a dining experience that leaves you speechless, as you eat and sip your way from one part of paradise to another, each step of which is narrated by Isabelle’s lyrical voice.

You think this is just a restaurant?  Are you mad?  Insane?  This is culinary heaven, a lifetime event.   Ok, now you’re sure I’m exaggerating.  Point of fact, the two old friends who took me to luncheon at La Bonne Auberge last visited the inn some 25-30 years prior.  We were greeted at the door as visiting royalty.  Yes, everyone remembered my friends’ names!  Of course, we got kisses on both cheeks and warm embraces on the way in.

As we were seated, our eyes swiveled at the wonder of the interior.  Aperitifs appeared.  Lightly flavored Crémant, Alsace’s delightful rendition of sparkling wine.

“My how the place has changed,” one friend remarked.  Yes, it has.  Old photo albums quickly appeared at our table.  Thirty years ago, the restaurant was beautiful and pleasant, but ordinary.  Now, Cinderella has turned into a princess.  Now La Auberge is an elegant gallery of art in all its many forms.  In addition to the incomparable foods and dishes, huge canvases, alive with color, fill every wall.  Statues and ceramics.  But, rather than go on raving like a man who’s just won the culinary lottery, I’ll let the accompanying photos speak for the artistry that is La Bonne Auberge.

New York, with skyline and Central Park

Every detail, even the chair covering is exquisite

I'll come back in the Spring and enjoy the garden.

No detail is too small for Isabelle's practiced eye.

An olive tree grows in the central atrium.

I dare not attempt to name all the dishes or ingredients from Séduction, the six-course chef’s selection on the extensive menu.  The six courses include at least three or four individual tidbits in individual sauces.  Sacre bleu! In the French manner, portions, small and dainty, politely graced our china plates. 

The American appetite always growls for more … and faster.  The American appetite is indescribably foolish.  Relax. Sip the wine.  Enjoy Lydia’s artistry, as she fills your eyes with wonder and treats your taste buds divinely.  Listen attentively to the elegant descriptions provided by Isabelle.  Savor the silky blends of flavors you had never even considered before today.

Too vague?  Ok, let’s look at the mushroom plate, which the French call Cep, the Italians call porcini, the Germans Steinpilzen, and Americans call, ‘them brown mushrooms with big caps.’  Even this simple fare is graced with aromatic sauces that bring alive the woodland wonder of freshness and flavor.

Or the shrimp plate.  Only three shrimp, but you cut them time and again, relishing the small bites that capture the flavors of fig and mint and others whose names are forever lost to my mental acuity, but forever remembered by my palate.

From left to right:  Foie Gras wrapped in pasta, minced beef with beef liver, chicken gizzards

Oh, hell yeah!  1995 come alive once more!

Sorbet, accompanied by desiccated eggplant (aubergine) skin, encrusted with sugar.

Smoked trout in a melange of diced fruit and vegetable.

How dare I so rudely cut into these works of art???  I dared.

When the meal ended, both Isabelle and Lydia and company joined us for a few minor miracles of sweetness to accompany tiny cups of espresso.  We lingered for another hour or more amid laughter and conversation.  Believe me, you will too! Push aside the Michelin ratings.  Banish them.  This is dining at it’s very finest, an enjoyment of food and friendship that will last a few hours, but cling to your memory forever.  La Bonne Auberge.  

After lunch sweets.

No, there is no Internet site.  Isabelle does not accept that a wonderful dining experience rests on the click of a mouse.  Call her.  Listen to her voice.  Let her listen to yours.  Start with the human contact that will lead you back to La Bonne Auberge again and fill your dreams in between.

‪15 Rue Nationale, 57350 Stiring-Wendel, France

‪+33 3 87 87 52 78

Even the color and design of the small rugs capture your attention.

An Inn you will never forget!