Gruyère

If anything is typical of Alsace, it is tarte flambée, a pizzalike flat bread covered with runny white and tangy cheese (a thin mixture of farmer’s cheese, crème fraîche, heavy cream, and fromage blanc or Gruyère, depending on your preference) and a sprinkling of diced onions and lardons. Dating back hundreds of years, tarte flambée is served everywhere in Alsace, with connoisseurs arguing about their favorite versions. In the old days, the farmers would take leftover bread dough, roll it out paperthin, spread some heavy cream mixed with egg over it, scatter some lardons or ham and onions on top, put it in a hot, wood-burning oven, and—voilà!—dinner was ready. The tradition still stands today, and tarte flambée is particularly enjoyed accompanied by a green salad as a simple Sunday night dinner. At the end of a late Sunday afternoon in April, I was driving Yves Alexandre, a traveling salesman who loves to cook, near fields resplendent with signs of spring—white asparagus and rhubarb, and yellow rapeseed flowers (more commonly known in the United States as the flowers that produce canola). We stopped at Le Marronnier, a charming winstub in Stutzheim, a little town about ten miles from Strasbourg. It was here that I tasted my first tarte flambée. Most of the patrons were seated at outdoor tables in the cobblestoned courtyard with wisteria climbing over the brick walls. A marronnier, a sprawling chestnut tree, stood smack in the center of the patio. “You have to eat the tart hot,” Yves told me as tarts were being rushed to tables near us. The two Mauritian tarte-flambée bakers make a few hundred every Sunday, with a topping of farmer’s cheese and crème fraîche. This Jewish version, with leftover challah dough as a base, of course omits the ham or bacon. At Passover, Yves told me, some Alsatian Jews use matzo for their Sunday night tarte flambée.

In Tunisia, where egg dishes are ubiquitous, they call this a tajin because it is cooked in a clay dish of that name. It can be eaten hot or cold.

One legend surrounding the name of the sauce, hünkâr beğendi, which means “Her Majesty’s delight,” places it in 1869 when the Sultan Abdul Aziz entertained Empress Eugénie (my Istanbul grandmother was named after her), wife of Napoleon III, in his white rococo palace of Beylerbey on the Asian side of the Bosphorus. The empress was so enchanted by the pale, creamy, eggplant purée that she asked for the recipe to be given to her cooks. The sultan’s cook explained that he could not pass on the recipe because he “cooked with his eyes and his nose.” In Turkey, they use mature kasar, a hard yellow cheese, or Gruyère in the sauce, but mature Cheddar can be used too. Serve it with rice pilaf (page 193).

The quiche originated in Alsace-Lorraine, in northeastern France. It’s a pastry shell filled with a savory custard of eggs, cream, and other ingredients. Quiche Lorraine always includes crisp bacon with optional cheese. Of course, there are many ways to vary this basic recipe and a few ideas follow. In the convection oven, the temperature is reduced by 25 to 50 degrees and the baking time is reduced as well.

My grandmother passed this recipe down to my mom and she then passed it on to me. It's a casserole of pure comfort. First, bitter endive is simmered until sweet, then wrapped in savory ham and smothered with a creamy nutmeg béchamel. Gruyère tops it off before it's baked until bubbly and golden.

The almost lemony, tart taste of sorrel is very pleasing with the sweet stewed onions. Even a small amount of sorrel will transform the character of what would otherwise be a more predictable onion pie. Though expensive to buy, sorrel is easy to grow. Plants can be bought in nurseries, put in the ground and harvested leaf-by-leaf for several years. It would be worth having a few plants to be able to make this tart in a regular basis.

Think of this as a streamlined and guilt-free version of scalloped potatoes. It's a toss-and-dump dish, in which I toss sliced potatoes with a little melted butter, dump them in a dish, then cover them with milk—healthier than heavy cream—that I've thickened slightly with a bit of flour (the flour keeps the milk from separating). The cheese topping is optional; with or without it, in less than an hour you will be rewarded with lusciously creamy potatoes along with that all-important browned crust. Editors' Note: Kemp Minifie reimagined the foil tray frozen dinner for Gourmet Live. Her updated menu includes: meatloaf made from grass-fed beef, scalloped potatoes, lemony green veggies, and your new favorite brownies for dessert.

Start breakfast by making a potato pancake, then cover it with sausage, eggs, and cheese and bake until puffed and golden.

Celery root, also known as celeriac, has a knobby exterior that is best peeled (carefully!) with a paring knife.

In winter, the section of our cupboard devoted to onions seems to grow exponentially, filled with all forms of eye-dripping lovelies: red and white onions, shallots, massive white-bulbed scallions. Grilling a sack of onions down to a cereal bowl of caramelized noodles is a rare fall pleasure. And few pillars of French cooking are as widely and voraciously loved as scalding hot onion soup cloaked in a blistering layer of melted Gruyère. But like with many epic dishes canonized by the cuisine of rural folk, vegetarians usually remain wholly uninvited. So how does one mitigate the beef stock in every single recipe of the gooiest of soups? Our "ah-ha moment" was beer. After trying small batches of all three colors of the proverbial tricolore (blue, white, and red) we settled on Chimay Blue, a dubbel style beer that's become a household name for boozers. This so-called grande réserve, or any other basic dubbel, is a super substitute for the essence of animal gore. The malts and sugars play on your tongue in a way that's strikingly similar to the flavor of liquefied fat and tendon.

These ethereal, savory puffs are easily frozen and reheated. Serve half the yield from this recipe at the party, and save the rest for another time. Feel free to mix and match any semisoft melting cheese such as Gruyère, cheddar, or Fontina with any hard cheese such as Asiago, Parmesan, or Manchego.

To speed up this classic soup without sacrificing its soulful flavor, simply caramelize the onions in a dry nonstick skillet (be sure to use one with a silicone surface designed for use over high heat, not Teflon), and use good-quality beef stock, preferably one that is low in salt.

Here's a quiche recipe that goes wheat free without skimping on flavor. We call for broccoli and Cheddar cheese, but you can trade out the broccoli for asparagus tips or halved cherry tomatoes and the Cheddar for Gruyère, Swiss, or Comté.

Smear the bread with mayo on both sides and then grill in butter for the ultimate golden-brown crunch.

This is one of my favorite burgers. The charred onions develop a deep sweetness that perfectly counterbalances the earthy, slightly sour character of the rye bread and the nutty flavor of the Swiss cheese. This is a first-class knife-and-fork burger that you will want to eat again and again.

This combination of two all-time favorites is based on our New Orleans—style egg-soaked-and-fried pain perdu, or "lost bread," a traditional method used to reclaim bread that was growing stale. I use fresh challah—thickly sliced or it will fall apart during the soak—because it has a rich sweetness but airy texture from being kneaded. The long soak creates a custard that cooks into the bread so it puffs up in the oven after getting a crisp crust in the frying pan. That's your base, topped with the saltiness and smokiness of bacon with a good cure, ripe tomato, and peppery arugula.

This is a traditional appetizer that we probably made for just about every reception. Everyone loved them, which is no surprise. After all, they are layers of smoked ham and Gruyère cheese sandwiched between heavily buttered bread and then broiled. What is not to like?

This traditional French sandwich is topped with a classic Mornay sauce (a béchamel sauce with cheese).

Peppery, uncooked mustard greens make a great base for this modern-day Caesar salad. Cook up any leftover greens and use them in an omelet.

The technique: Parboil sliced potatoes in whipping cream, then layer them with mushrooms and top with Gruyère.
The payoff: Great texture and flavor through and through—the cheese gets browned and toasty in the oven, and the layers of creamy potatoes and mushrooms are rich and satisfying.