« The cookie crumbles | Home | RIP, Gourmet magazine »
A year in a French market: Across the cour
By Ann | October 2, 2009
In my Paris apartment building, there are the neighbors who I greet in the hallway, and then there are those who I’ve never met, but who I know a lot about. I’m talking about the guy who lives across the cour, or courtyard. His kitchen window faces my kitchen window, and we often prepare dinner at the same time. He looks very pleasant, perhaps a few years older than me, quite bald, it must be said, and with a chic goatee.
Of course, I’m not the first person to notice their neighbor across the courtyard — hello, Rear Window. But I must admit that I am astonishingly uncurious about this neighbor of mine. (Astonishing, that is, for someone as preternaturally nosy as I usually am.) No, I don’t really want to know anything about Monsieur Voisin. Mainly, I think, because I don’t really want him to know anything about me.
Despite myself, here is what I’ve noticed:
–He lives alone.
–He likes to eat dinner at 8pm.
–He cooks with the window open.
–He’s often away on the weekend — possibly has house in the country?
–He goes away for the entire month of August.
Even though I’m not searching for any more details about Monsieur Voisin, I do like seeing him bustle about his kitchen as I bustle about mine. He has a big, yellow lamp with a paper shade, and it makes me happy when his windows glow. It’s sort of like we’re cooking together, two people who will never meet (I hope), connected by the minutia of our daily existence.
Here are some photos of the market’s early autumn produce, and a recipe for my new favorite autumn dessert, roasted figs. What can I say? It seems neighborly to share them with you.
Chestnuts and more grapes.
Oysters return to the market.
Figs and late peaches.
Roasted Figs
Serves 6
12 fresh Black Mission figs
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup water
2 tablespoons Cassis
2 tablespoons Grand Marnier
Greek yogurt and honey (for serving)
Preheat the oven to 300ºF. Prick the bottom of each fig and place them in a buttered baking dish. Sprinkle them with the sugar and add water. Bake the figs, basting twice with the pan juices, about 30 minutes.
When the figs are tender, carefully drain the juices and place them in a saucepan, along with Grand Marnier and Cassis. Boil over medium heat, until the juices are syrupy. Serve figs and syrup warm, with a dollop of thick, Greek yogurt drizzled with honey.
Topics: A year in a French market: Autumn |
October 2nd, 2009 at 2:48 pm
Well, as long as Miss Lonelyhearts, Miss Torso and Lars Thorwald (eek!) aren’t there, you can cook in peace! Seriously, one of the things I love about living in close quarters in densely populated cities is the aroma of dinner being prepared in neighboring apartments — but also the sounds. The clanking of pots, the flash frying, the ring of plates and bowls hitting each other in the sink during the washing up afterward. PS — love those photos!
October 2nd, 2009 at 4:16 pm
Interesting, I think as humans we are naturally nosy. It’s hard not to notice someone if they are in the same place you are in, almost everyday. Pretty interesting observations, sounds like the opening to a romance book, kinda. lold
October 3rd, 2009 at 2:05 am
Have you ever cooked the same thing?
October 3rd, 2009 at 10:41 am
FIGS. figsfigsfigs. Roughly fifty percent of my parisian diet, FIGS, oh I will be sorry when the figs are gone.
I noticed that M. Voisin-Chauve also seems to have a desk in his kitchen? Facing the window? Could he be writing a cookbook? Or maybe he just likes to work where he cooks?
October 4th, 2009 at 6:41 am
I just have to put in a vote for Ann’s roasted fig recipe. It’s utterly divine…
October 6th, 2009 at 5:18 am
Chris — I wish that made me Lisa Fremont (Grace Kelly’s character). But you’re right — close quarters are both the bane and coziness of city life. I actually (usually) like smelling other people’s food and imagining what they’re cooking.
Dina — Ever since posting about the neighbor, I can’t help but notice him more! I’m my own bad influence. Thanks for stopping by!
Dad — Interesting thought, though he’s too far for me to see what he’s making.
Devorah — I think you were the first person to ever mention Monsieur Voisin to me. I’m not sure but I think his sink faces the window. But, hey, I could understand liking to eat, cook and work in the same place. And sleeping — hmm… maybe I should set up a little cot in my kitchen for naps.
Anna — I hope you’ll make some of your own figs now that you have the recipe!
October 6th, 2009 at 7:15 am
Oh, CTB, you’re WAY better than Lisa Fremont! (Just don’t tell Prince Albert I said that.)