The Ferrandi faculty and some of their illustrious alumni and friends have contributed their savoir-faire and 143 recipes for the mega-cookbook Le Grand Cours de Cuisine Ferrandi (The Great Ferrandi Cooking Class).

Named by Le Figaro as Best Cookbook of 2014, this book digs into the nitty-gritty: deboning a pigeon, un-shelling a crab, shucking an oyster, dressing a duck, filleting a sole, roasting a peach. There are even 18 large color pictures that give the step-by-step process of de-choking an artichoke.

However, there’s no pressure to start out with Yannick Alléno’s go-for-baroque Oyster/Chorizo medley or Olivier Roellinger’s mega-complex Chocolate/Sherry Lobster, a dish that—even with pictures—looks like it requires a sous-chef armed with a sonic screwdriver from Gallifrey. Less accomplished chefs can begin by learning how to pull off a perfect hard-boiled egg before professing at their own speed to an airy omelet.

Two “simple” versions of blanquette de veau (beginner, intermediate) are explained, while black-belt chefs may head straight for the Michelin-starred version by Alsace star Olivier Nasti.

A significant part of the book’s 695 pages are devoted to recipes from restaurant celebrities like William Ledeuil, Adeline Grattard (both Ferrandi grads) and Thierry Marx.

Le Grand Cours de Cuisine Ferrandi offers no helpful tips on catching your rabbit, but once you’ve bagged your bunny, it will show-and-tell you everything else you need to know about turning it into cuisses de levreau en civet à l’échalote grise with candied apples and chanterelle ravioli on the side… a recipe contributed by Eric Briffard at the Hôtel George V.

The Ferrandi cookbook is perfect for the aspiring or confirmed chef on your gift list, whether in bicep-building hardback (the book tips the scales at 4.1 kilos) or in its e-book version. Published by Hachette, 49.95 €.

© 2014, Corinne LaBalme

For more about The Ferrandi School on France Revisited read this.

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Over the weekend of April 25-27, 2014 Vichy parties like it’s 1865 as the town celebrates its annual Napoleon III festival in honor of the emperor who raised Vichy to the rank of “Queen of Spa Towns.” Throughout the week from April 20 to 27 a group of chefs is proposing a taste of 150 years of gastronomic tradition by revisiting and reinterpreting some of culinary achievements of the Second Empire. In particular, these chefs will be taking as inspiration the culinary know-how transmitted by Jules Gouffé (1807-1877), one of the great names of French cuisine.

On the tree of culinary genealogy, Gouffé represents a hearty branch between Antonin Carème (1784-1833) and Auguste Escoffier (1846-1935). The recipe’s of Gouffé’s 1867 Livre de cuisine (translated into English as “The Royal Cookery Book” by his brother Alphonse, culinary officer for the English Court) inspired chefs for generations. A master of decorative cuisine—all those pièces montées—Jules Gouffé largely worked in Paris: his father had a shop near what is now the Pompidou Center, and Gouffé opened his own on rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, later cooking for Napoleon III and leading the charge at the Jockey Club.

His cookbook, editions of which are still available in French and in English, gives precise instructions in preparing, on the one hand, rather simple dishes for the cook at home and, on the one hand, creations for emperors, kings and their financiers, la grande cuisine. Gouffé also penned cookbook about pastries, preserves and soups and potages.

Those chefs specifically honoring Gouffé during the festival weekend and the days leading up to it are: Olivier Tajetti at La Brasserie du Casino, Jérôme Piombini and David Vendemond at Le Lutèce, Emmanuel Basset at Les Caudalies, Gilbert Beurrier at Le Napoléon (Hôtel Les Nations), Marlène Chaussemy at La Table de Marlène (La Rotonde du Lac), Antoine Souillat at La Table d’Antoine, Pierre-Yves Lorgeoux at Le PYL-PYL, Daniel Vincent at Le Piquenchagne (in Saint-Yorre), Albert Caille at La Véranda (Aletti Palace), and Gilles Bettiol (otherwise director-chef of the caterer Le Montognon ) conducting the festival’s grand Napoleon III historical dinner “A la table d’hôte de l’Empereur” (49€) in the Convention Center-Opera complex.

The Napoleon III festival also celebrates the golden age of the Second Empire with music (Offenbach, naturally), costumed parades, balls, an absinthe tasting, carriage rides, a Viennese cocktail hour in honor of this year’s imperial guest The Austro-Hungarian Empire, and a reconstruction of a Second Empire military camp.

Also echoing Vichy’s chic of yesterday is an exhibition this spring of fans (éventails) from Napoleon III’s time, “The Fan during the Second Empire, between art object and fashion accessory” at Vichy’s Opera/Convention Center. The exhibition presents exquisite examples from private collections as well as from the Palais Galliera Fashion Museum in Paris and the Fan Museum of London.

For complete details on how to party like it’s 1865 see the site of the Vichy Tourist Office, 19 rue du Parc, 03206 Vichy. Tel. 04 70 98 71 94.

By train Vichy is 2:50 from Paris, 1:45 from Lyon. Vichy is a 4-hour drive from Paris and just under an hour’s drive from the Clermont-Ferrand Airport.

For an article on France Revisited about Vichy’s architectural history, including an accompanying audio slide-show, see Vichy: Not That Vichy, This Vichy.

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I know that I’m back in Paris because:

1. Returning home from the airport on the metro during rush hour everyone looks so… French. And there’s a whole new set of posters on the wall announcing exceptional concerts and exhibitions that I’m unlikely to go to.

2. Before I can unlock the door to my apartment my neighbor greets me by saying, “Bonjour. You’re back! I’m glad because now you can turn on your heat to help warm my apartment.” Solidarity, we’re big on that in France, as long as someone else is footing the bill. But I feel the same way about her.

3. After unpacking I open my mail and find two notices from divisions of the national health system asking for information that I’ve already sent twice.

4. While the apartment warms up I go grocery shopping. Checking out, the cashier, whom I’ve greeted with a customary “Bonjour,” complains to me that the person in front of me line hadn’t been polite enough to say “Bonjour.” I respond, “Exceptionally, today I don’t give a damn,” to remind myself that I haven’t forgotten how to interact in French. The cashier then declares us all a “une bande d’impolis” (an impolite bunch) and punishes me by shoving my goods down the ramp. I’m already missing Thriftway.

5. It’s noon. I climb into bed, making sure to set the alarm for a 90-minute nap, only to wake up four hours later. There’s no better bed than one’s own.

6. At the mall in New Jersey two days before leaving I was happy to have found a sports jacket that I liked for $99. When I asked the salesman how he thought it fit, he said it fit fine, that it was normal for one of my arms to be longer than the other, and he reminded me that there was a two-for-one Presidents Day sale for that rack. Those are three things that I’m unlikely to find in France: a president being celebrated, a sale worthy of its name, and a salesperson responding kindly to serve me well even without a “bonjour.” But I rarely have a good occasion to wear a sports jacket (let alone two) in New Jersey, whereas I’ve just arrived in Paris and already I have a good occasion to get gussied up. I shower, shave, and get dressed to meet Corinne LaBalme, one of France’s top French-American travel writers and the newest contributor to France Revisited, for a drink at the Hotel Plaza-Athénée …

… after which we visit the Imperial Suite. We’re told it would cost 26 000 euros to have them turn down the beds (there are four in this suite). Breakfast, the general manager says a little too cheerfully, is extra.

7. The following day I give a tour of Pere Lachaise cemetery to some young Canadians. It’s freezing out, but we’re glad to be alive—and I’m personally happy to know that my neighbors are solidarily helping to heat my apartment for when I return.

8. I’ve been invited to serve on the jury of the Concours Général Agricole discerning prizes for French wines at the International Agricultural Show, and so on Saturday morning I find myself wearing a sports jacket and sitting at a table with four others assigned to the task of tasting, describing and judging 15 bottles of Chateauneuf-du-Pape (five 2012 white, 5 2011 red). The tired half-smile is the after-effect of a 2-hour tasting and a desire to not show my purple teeth.

9. That evening I attend the Gourmand World Cookbook Awards at the Carrousel du Louvre. Another sports jacket occasion (reminder to self: look for tux sale when next in New Jersey). The big winners are China and Scandinavia with some choice Mexican, Spanish and South American winners. The foremost prize for an American cookbook goes to Timothy Ferriss for “The Four-Hour Chef,” which wins for Best First Cookbook.

The Norwegian-American food photographer Nancy Bundt, sitting at my table, comes in second in her category. Marc Lagrange, a French doctor also sitting at the table, wins in the category “Drinks and Health” for his book “Vin et Médecine” (Wine and Medicine). We all feel healthier for it.

10. The following morning, Sunday, it’s market day in my neighborhood. Need I say more?

I love returning the U.S., but there’s no mistaking: I am now back in Paris.

© 2013, Gary Lee Kraut

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