Kouignettes.

Lately, the blogosphere has been abuzz with kouign amann, the famous breton butter cake. I can understand the excitement. It's sweet, salty, caramalized goodness in layers that are almost impossible to recreate at home. Brittany produces hardly any cheese to speak of, but they are master butter makers, which gives you all the more reason to indulge. Let's face it, Cookie Monster and common sense deem this dessert a "sometimes" food.

Kouignettes, are essentially little baby kouign amann that make perfect individual servings -they almost look like roses. I love the concept behind these little treats, but don't be fooled by all of the different flavors on display. Stick to plain or caramel, no need for extras like rasperries, chocolate or pistachios.

After admiring paintings by Sérusier and Gauguin at the museum in Pont Aven (don't miss it!), we walked around the quaint village and couldn't help but duck into some of the more tempting pastry shops. La maison Larnicol was the perfect stop for kouignettes. We also couldn't resist Pont Aven's chocolate shop for millefeuille and lots of drooling over the cases of petits gâteaux.

How we managed to resist all of this, I have yet to fully understand. And in case you were wondering, that's a lime tart with vanilla bean on the right. Why didn't I taste you?

Here's what makes me happy.

Everything is planned and we are officially ready for next weekend! Friends and family will be there to support us on the big day, and it's going to be a FUN weekend. I have a dress, Monsieur J has a suit and the wedding bands will be ready for pick up on Tuesday. We certainly won't go hungry this weekend, as dinner reservations have been made for Friday night-Sunday lunch. The flowers will be ready for pick up on Saturday morning and we have the official convocation form from city hall to prove that we really are supposed to get married on February 27th at 10:30 a.m. It wouldn't be a real French wedding without some sort of paperwork, right? We've even found a studio to rent in the Pyrenees for an impromptu winter honeymoon!

And to celebrate the planning of our nuptials in a mere two weeks, a special Sunday treat was in order today: macarons. The best French cookies EVER. The bakery nearest chez nous is crazy good, and these little pillows of sugary deliciousness are no exception. Choosing from their many cookie/filling combinations is anything but easy: ginger-honey, pistachio-cherry, violet-blackcurrant, chocolate-caramel, nougat-orange blossom, lavender, coconut-mango, vanilla and rose-lychee, YUM. Unfortunately these little guys are fragile and don't travel well, so you'll have to come see me in Toulouse to get your hands on some!

Snow day.

So I know all of you on the east coast have had more than enough snow to last you for years to come, but here in Toulouse an inch and a half is enough to slow down the whole city. No bus service means that Monsieur J is home for the day, an unexpected treat.

This morning we went to the covered market, Victor Hugo, for some indulgent grocery shopping. Three cheeses for a weekend raclette, charcuterie, potatoes, mushrooms, carrots and fresh sheets of LASAGNE.

True confession: I've never made homemade lasagne, probably because I rarely bother to buy fresh pasta and because I've always been too scared to boil large noodles. Cat's out of the bag.

But today I made Monsieur J inquire at one of the Italian stands, on the off-hand chance they might have sheets of lasagne behind the counter that they were not sharing in those display cases. As the daughter of James, I am a firm believer in the mantra, "it never hurts to ask."

No harm, indeed. We are now home with three sheets of fresh pasta and a fridge full of leftovers that I hope to combine into a real treat. You see, I love both varieties of lasagne. The cheesy, saucey, tomato-y kind and the lighter vegetarian-style ones. And yet, every time I sink my teeth into one or the other, something seems to be missing. I think I crave the best of both worlds: meat AND vegetable lasagne, what's a girl to do?

With an abundance of ragu sauce leftover from last night's dinner, a homemade rosemary artichoke spread, oven roasted tomatoes, arugula and goat cheese, I think today's freezing temperatures call for a culinary experiment: daring duo lasagne.

Here's the plan: a layer of meatsauce, a layer of artichoke and roasted tomatoes, a layer of arugula and goat cheese, and a final layer of meat sauce + parmesan. Doesn't that sound good? Or maybe it's just me... Then again, if I had room in the kitchen for this nifty jobber, maybe I wouldn't need to combine everything into one!

Breathing a sigh of restaurant relief.

Once we found out that 15 people would be joining us to celebrate, my biggest concern was finding a restaurant that could accommodate all of us for lunch immediately following the ceremony. All sorts of pesky what-ifs were buzzing through my head: what if it's too last minute? What if we can't find a restaurant that has private rooms? What if all of the nice ones are already booked and we end up someplace shady?

However, I am sneaky and had been eyeing a restaurant called Les Copains d'Abord for a while now. Private rooms [check], tantalizing menu [check], not too far from the city center [check].

Monsieur J called on Tuesday because I loathe the telephone here. I know, it's been almost 3 years, but guess what? I still hate talking on the phone in French, especially with strangers. So there. But I digress. The owner confirmed that they had plenty of space and sent a menu for us to review. Well folks, the menu has just arrived and since I can't contain myself, I have to share:

cocktail

sparkling white wine with wild blackberry liqueur

appetizer

foie gras with Guerande salt and toasts

crawfish ravioli in foie gras sauce

sweetbreads with parsley, endive and pine nuts

main course

oven roasted sea bream with hazlenut pesto and rice

cassoulet with duck confit

lamb shank with seasonal vegetables

filet of beef topped with seared foie gras

dessert

candied chestnut soufflé

lemon meringue pie

custard with raspberries

coffee

I'd say it's a pretty traditional French menu with a solid dose of southwest flair, hence all of the duck products. And with three or four choices per course, everyone should be able to pick something that strikes their fancy. Of course no meal in France would be complete without wine, so there will be red and white available to pair with everyone's menu selections, à discrétion.

Who knew? I really can plan a wedding in 3 weeks!

Comfort.

When the Préfecture gives you lemons and you're not in the mood for lemonade, it is perfectly acceptable to seek comfort elsewhere. Some may be in need of retail therapy but my wallet and I opt for comfort food instead. I found mine in paupiettes de veau and a few other non-edible moments this weekend. The solution was three-part, actually: devise a plan of attack with the boss; forget about all things préfecture-related on the slopes; and comfort myself with a traditional Sunday lunch. As my sister likes to say, "do what works." This, my friends, did the trick.

Meeting with the boss on Friday was a step in the right direction. She still wants me to work for the company [yay!], and that alone is pretty incredible when you stop to think just how complicated this entire hiring process has been for all involved. [sigh]

Saturday I left my cares and worries in Toulouse and spent the day skiing at Piau-Engaly in the Pyrénées. Monsieur J's company had organized the excursion, and it was a fun day of snow and skiing for all involved, even if I don't have any pictures to prove it. Using the camera would've meant taking off my mittens and that wasn't going to happen!

Which brings us to Sunday. Sundays in France are unlike any other day of the week. They're designed for family, friends, a good meal, walks, cultural outings, parks, and other leisure activities. Sundays are not made for frantically running about in an effort to get a jump start on the week. Even if you wanted to cram your Sunday full of errands you'd be hard pressed to find a store that's open, though you can always do a load of laundry at home if that makes you feel better. But while Sundays may not be made for productivity as normally definied, Sunday mornings are a great time to go to the market and prepare for Sunday lunch. Mmmm, Sunday lunch!

At summer camp, we always ate the same thing for Sunday lunch: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, dinner rolls and dessert. So predictable, and yet so good. In the winter months here in France, one of my absolute favorite Sunday lunch options is paupiettes de veau.

I didn't know about these little treasures until a few months ago when Monsieur J and I were at the market and saw an unbelievably long line at the butcher shop. Certainly it must be good, otherwise all of these people would not be waiting in line for 30 minutes. We joined the queue, waited and watched the butcher deftly cutting slices of beef and veal, his wife ringing up the orders and giving tips on how to cook each item. When it was our turn, Monsieur J ordered two paupiettes, and Madame explained how to cook them. My "I'm-listening-to-you-very-intently-so-as-not-to-screw-this-up" face must've worried Madame on some level, and so she fished out a photocopy of the recipe just in case. Merci!

Paupiettes may take a little time to cook, but since the butcher prepares the meat, all you have to do is chop and partially cook the vegetables before adding the veal to the pot. A paupiette de veau is essentially a thin veal cutlet, filled with a ground veal and herb stuffing. The butcher places a lump of stuffing on the veal cutlet, then uses strips of fat and a length of butcher's twine to carefully wrap and bind each little parcel so it won't fall apart during the cooking process. Once you've finished cooking them, you simply remove the string and fat and serve the paupiettes with the chopped vegetables: potatoes, carrots, mushrooms, leeks and fennel in this case, though you can adapt the choice of vegetables as you'd like -it's fun to experiment. When cooked slowly on low heat for 35 minutes and finished for 10 minutes over medium, the paupiettes are slightly golden on the outside, tender, juicy and seasoned to perfection on the inside. What's not to like about that?