Be daring, be different, be impractical, be anything that will assert integrity of purpose and imaginative vision against the play-it-safers, the creatures of the commonplace, the slaves of the ordinary. – Cecil Beaton
“Is your French fluent?” he asked me soon after opening the door to his elegant one-bedroom on rue Richelieu in the center of Paris, just minutes after we met. I stood there heavily pregnant and lied “yes, of course!” and that’s how, on the spot, I became Robert Noah’s assistant and only employee for his company Paris en Cuisine. I had found his name in a professional directory - a well-thumbed paperback at the local public library in the Parisian suburb I lived in way back then when I first settled in France - a book that listed the Americans who had created companies in the country’s capital. Back when that was still fairly rare enough that you could list them all in a paperback. “Ah, food! I love that!” and I wrote him a letter (also back when you used to do that) and asked if he needed an assistant. He absolutely did and he made an appointment with me to meet at his apartment.
And he hired me on the spot and that is how I became guide and interpreter for the two-person company headed by one of the first people to do high-end culinary tourism. In Paris, no less.
For 4 extraordinary years, I accompanied small groups of clients, no more than 2 to 6, to Michelin-starred restaurants, the crème de la crème of pastry shops, fromagers-affineurs (cheese shops with ripening cellars), chocolatiers, boulangeries (Poilâne, of course), caves (wine shops and restaurant cellars). I introduced them to chefs, bakers, sommeliers, and I translated during cooking demonstrations, private classes, and tastings. I walked them through dining rooms and kitchens, recounting the histories of the most iconic Parisian dining spots and the most illustrious chefs, talking with and questioning everyone from the chefs to the dishwashers about their work, chatted with bakers as they stoked their ovens and rolled out pastry or shaped baguettes, shivered as cheesemongers explained the ripening process and sliced off slivers of cheese for our tasting pleasure. I helped clients choose handmade chocolates, popped corks, sipped wines and champagnes, and related how one pairs which cheese with which bread and what wine and in what order they should be eaten, déguster. Yeah, I did all that.
I was also handed over the duty of interpreter for the anglophone section of the prestigious Parisian professional cooking school École Grégoire Ferrandi, which had been created a few years earlier by my boss. Wine classes, sausage-making classes, bread baking, and fish/seafood instruction fell into my lap and were a joy to attend. The teachers were all passionate, exuberantly passing on their knowledge along with all kinds of interesting tidbits to the students. It was truly an exciting time for me, working in such an environment as I soaked up knowledge and experience. I must admit that it was a fun challenge for me in many ways; I was learning so much about French cuisine and wine, the Parisian food scene, as well as scrambling to learn French cooking vocabulary AND learning French tout court - as I said, my French was adequate but far from fluent when I began, but being in a position where one MUST understand and be understood, well, I learned pretty fast.
And every single Monday I stood and worked alongside Chef Bourgoin, pastry chef at École Ferrandi. 6 hours once a week for 4 years I watched and interpreted, asked questions for the students, and translated the answers along with the instructions. It was both inspirational and invigorating. Students, like their instructors, lined up military-style in their chef whites, toques, and clogs, the atmosphere was electric as they rushed around the kitchen in their student quest to master the fine art of pastry making. Chef was great fun to work with. Demanding and exacting, he was, nonetheless, extremely kind and fairly patient, he never yelled or threw dish towels across the workspace as I often saw other chefs do, never getting hysterical if someone put a wooden rolling pin under running water or wiped a wet towel across the marble work surface just before smearing melted chocolate, as I had seen another pastry chef do. Once he found out that I was pregnant (second baby), he always made sure there was a stool for me to perch on and was constantly running over to me and filling my cupped hands with chocolate nibs, offering me slices of whatever was being made in class that day, and watching over me as we joined the other chefs for lunch, making sure that I wasn’t eating something that could possibly make me ill.
Even though I didn’t get hands-on experience, I saw the same recipes, heard the same instructions, watched the same maneuvers and techniques over and over again, 6 hours every single Monday for 4 years; I learned everything about French pastry vicariously, through osmosis, if you will. Some of the recipes I made at home right away, but some it took me years to finally try even though I felt like I had already made those recipes a hundred times. Puff pastry was one. How many times did I observe Chef whack a block of butter flat, fold it up envelope-style into the prepared dough, roll, fold, turn, roll, fold, turn - I close my eyes and I’m reliving it again and again - before I finally had the courage to try it myself?
Now that you have made YOUR puff pastry, here are 2 simple, classic summer French pastries you can make with the dough.
Tarte Fine aux Pêches
This is a classic French tart, most commonly made with apples but even better made with peaches or nectarines. Simply weigh out a round of puff pastry – I cut mine out with a large ring mold – and roll it out gently on a floured work surface; when rolling out puff pastry do not push the rolling pin, rather gently and lightly roll back and forth, take your time so as to neither compact the pastry or distort the circle. Turn the circle of dough around and around after each stroke of the rolling pin in order to create a circle.
Feel free to use more puff pastry and more peaches for a larger tart. The tart is freeform so all you need for a bigger tart is a larger baking tray.
Puff pastry, 9 to 10 ounces / 250 to 300 grams for an 8 ½ inch (22 cm) round tart
Peaches, about 3 ripe peaches for an 8 ½ inch (22 cm) round tart
Unsalted butter (½ tablespoon, 7 or 8 grams), softened
1 tablespoon granulated brown or white sugar
Powdered/confectioner’s sugar for dusting
For a tart about 8 ½ inches (22 cm) in diameter use about 9 to 10 ounces (250 - 300 grams) puff pastry. This serves 4 to 6 guests depending upon how hungry they are and if the tart is served with a scoop of ice cream or not. Use about 3 ripe peaches.
Roll the dough out to a thickness of about ⅛ inch (2 or 3 cm). You can leave the edges a bit thicker. Place the round of dough on a parchment paper-lined baking tray larger than the tart (the butter and juices may run a bit), cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F) Note: towards the end of the baking, you might need to turn the oven up to 200°C (400°F) in order to brown the edges of the pastry.
Lightly brush the puff pastry with some of the softened butter, all the way to the edge of the dough. Prick the dough all over with a fork. Slice the peaches into thin rounds and place them in a concentric circle on the dough, overlapping the slices slightly, but leaving about ½ to 1 inch free all the way around, leaving an open edge.
Dot the rest of the butter over the peach and sprinkle the granulated sugar evenly over the fruit slices and the edge of dough.
Bake in the preheated oven for about 35 – 40 minutes. If the puff pastry is not yet golden and puffed all the way around, simply turn the heat up to 200°C (400°F) and watch the tart carefully so it browns without burning.
Remove from the oven and dust with powdered/confectioner’s sugar just before serving.
Nectarine Jalousie
Named after slatted jalousie blinds that allow one to look out the window without being seen, the jalousie tart is a fairly recent invention. The first references I can find are in my 1947/48 La Pâtisserie de Marie-Claire by Jeanne Grillet and my 1950 L’Art Culinaire Français. Traditionally filled with frangipane (see Galette des Rois), apple compote, or red currant jam, I love jalousies made with fresh summer stone fruit.
½ of your batch of puff pastry, about 1 pound (450 grams)
About 4 or 5 ripe nectarines for this quantity puff pastry
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
About 2 tablespoons granulated brown sugar
1 egg, lightly beaten, for egg wash
Preheat the oven to 400°F (200°C).
Wash and pat dry your nectarines. Slice into wedges or rounds (as I did).
Remove your puff pastry from the refrigerator where it has been chilling. With a sharp knife, slice the dough in half, wrap up one half and return to the fridge for another use. Slice the half you have kept out into two equal pieces.
On a floured work surface, roll out one piece of dough into a square or rectangle about ⅛ inch (3 mm) or only slightly thicker (see above for how to roll out puff pastry). Make sure the dough is evenly flat and an even thickness. Carefully transfer the sheet of dough to a parchment-lined baking sheet. (Make sure your baking sheet is either much wider and larger than the Jalousie or has a lip all around it as there is always the risk of juice leaking out of the tart.)
Line up your nectarine slices or wedges either overlapping or close together depending on how thick they are leaving about ¾ inch (2 cm) edge all around. Dust with cinnamon and sprinkle rather liberally with the sugar. Gently brush the edge all around lightly with water.
Roll out the second piece of dough to the same thickness, width and length. Very carefully, fold it in two lengthwise, matching the edges, being careful not to press together or the dough will stick to itself – you want to be able to easily open it up again. Using a very sharp knife (dipping in flour helps) cut a series of parallel slits about ½ inch wide, leaving a ¾-inch wide edge (see photo).
Very carefully unfold and place on top of the nectarine-filled base dough. Match the edges all around and then press the top and bottom rims together to seal. Using a sharp knife or pizza cutter, trim the edge all around evenly (place all scraps back on top of the wrapped dough in the refrigerator) then press the edges again. You can press the tines of the fork gently into the dough edges.
Brush the surface of the dough – both the edges and the slats – with lightly beaten egg.
Bake for about 30 minutes or until the pastry is a deep golden brown and flaky, even the sides. (mine could have baked longer)
The juices should be bubbling through the slatted top. Serve warm with whipped cream, ice cream or simply as is.
Thank you for subscribing to Life’s a Feast by Jamie Schler where I share my recipes, mostly French traditional recipes, with their amusing origins and history. I’m so glad that you’re here. You can support my work by sharing the link to my Substack with your friends, family, and your social media followers. If you would like to see my other book projects in the making, read my other essays, and participate in the discussions, please upgrade to a paid subscription.
I love this backstory, Jamie. What a fabulous picture you painted for us all.
I love to hear your history and then to see these delicious recipes 😍