One of the things I love the most about living (and eating) in France is how easy and second-nature it is to eat with the seasons.
The Shoe Fiend, one of my new friends this year by way of my absolutely fabulous internship that I must remember to tell you about one of these days, made the comment within hours of our first meeting that one of her least favorite things about France was the impossibility of locating asparagus. While we have since made a list detailing all our favorite and least favorite things about the country we have both adopted (highlights include: our job, wine, and cute dogs… low points include: sketchy men, lack of personal space and La Poste), I have also since explained to her that asparagus do, in fact, exist in France. Come April, they’ll be everywhere: skinny green ones, fat white ones… you won’t be able to get enough.
But for now, asparagus are nowhere to be seen… because they’re not in season.
While this means that when asparagus do appear, I pounce on them and gorge myself on roasted asparagus and asparagus pasta and asparagus with pesto until I think I may burst… and by the time berries are in season, I’m happy to be rid of the slightly bitter green spears… until the following April. It’s a perfect cycle.
Right now, my in-season produce of choice are black grapes. I can’t get enough–I regularly eat a pound of them for lunch. They’ll soon be out of season, and I’ll have to move on to something else… and that’s OK with me. More than OK, actually; whereas in America we had cantaloupe and strawberries on our table pretty much every day, here, when the first season’s melons are out in the markets, I pounce.
One thing I’ll never understand, however, is the fact that even at Picard–our chain frozen-food store, stocking everything from frozen meats to ice cream to frozen sushi (???), the idea of seasonal produce remains. Just last week, I went with the American Proust Fan and finally found what I’ve been looking for ever since I moved to France three years ago: pumpkin purée. While it’s in frozen form instead of the canned form I recognize from the States, I threw it in my basket and immediately started concocting this recipe for pumpkin-carrot-chili… which the Roommate and I have been gorging on ever since.
Soon, pumpkin will move and give way to chestnuts or beets or Brussels sprouts, for right now, we’re eating it up by the bucketload. We’ll get tired of it soon… but it’s only a matter of time until next fall.
Pumpkin Chicken Chili
250 g. dried white beans, soaked overnight
1 tsp. vegetable oil
450 g. boneless skinless chicken breast
1/2 large onion or 1 small onion
3 chipotle peppers in adobo sauce
1 tbsp. tomato paste
250 g. frozen carrot purée (sub canned if frozen is not available)
225 g. frozen pumpkin purée (sub canned if frozen is not available)
1 tbsp. dried thyme
salt to taste
Soak the white beans overnight in double their volume of water. Drain.
Heat the oil over high heat in a heavy bottomed stock pot. Add the chicken and brown on both sides, about 2 minutes per side. Set aside.
Reduce heat to medium and sauté the onion until soft and slightly browned, 5-7 minutes. Add the chipotle peppers and tomato paste and cook until fragrant. Add the beans and 3 cups of water. Add the frozen purée. Reduce heat to low and allow to simmer, stirring occasionally, until the beans are cooked through, about 40 minutes to an hour.
When the beans are nearly done but still have a bit of bite left to them, add the chicken back into the pot along with the thyme and salt. Cook 20 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through. Remove the chicken and shred with two forks, then add back to the pot.
This is best served the next day after a rest in the fridge. It’s also the perfect thing to have on hand when the afternoons get cold and you want to come home to a hot dinner.
Dude, sauteed asparagus and sugar snap peas. Ina Garten. It’s pretty much off the hook and if you haven’t had it, you need to try it next spring. Also, I’m so excited for butternut squash risotto when I get home. Happy Happy. 🙂