Pardon my French

I’m suspicious of anything that calls itself  “French”.  French fries are, as everybody knows, Belgian.  A salad in France would spontaneously wilt if adorned with what we call French dressing.  I have seen more French doors in homes in the U.S. than in France.  When a person says, “Pardon my French,” well, let’s just say that nothing that follows sounds like French to me.  And the kisses one experiences most often in France—on both cheeks—are definitely not French kisses.  When bread is toasted in France, it doesn’t magically become French toast.  What we think of as French toast is known as le pain perdu, “lost bread”, or more aptly, bread that is past its prime.

Whenever I think of "French" anything, I'm reminded from this scene from "Better Off Dead...."

So it was with much hesitation that I chose a recipe for potato salad called “French potato salad” in my America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook.  I skimmed through the ingredients, though, and was cheered by finally finding something that actually could have come from a kitchen in France.  The alternate recipe version includes some of my favorites:  radishes, cornichons, and capers.

French potato salad 

The recipe starts with three pounds of red potatoes, sliced into ¼ inch rounds, but not peeled.  The cooked potatoes are tossed in white wine vinegar, salt, and pepper, then chilled.  When at room temperature, they are tossed again with a vinaigrette (Dijon mustard, white wine vinegar, olive oil), a small red onion, sliced radishes, sliced cornichons (no dill  or sweet pickles!  The little French cornichons are required in this recipe), and drained capers.  The potato salad is served at room temperature.

The potato salad came together really quickly. Triple S pork steaks, sprinkled with sea salt and white pepper, went under the broiler, and I quickly sautéed a shredded head of cabbage in a bit of butter, and served it with a dollop of sour cream, to round out this lovely meal.  This is a meal that could actually be served at a country table in France.  A French dinner, if you will.

The finished product

Now, what do the French call “French green beans”, you might ask?

They call them haricots verts, I’d respond.  

Green beans.