Always Add More Cheese

Whenever there’s a crisis my first instinct is to cook for people, to make sure they have something comforting to tuck into while we make a plan/commiserate/rally. This week I’ve set 20% off new paid subscriptions and all profits from will be donated to World Central Kitchen (you can find founder José Andrés’ substack Longer Tables here) who arrive swiftly to disasters around the world and are currently on the scene of the devastating wildfires in California as well as Mayotte, a small French territory in the Indian Ocean that was hit by an incredibly destructive cyclone in December with another due to hit as I type.

In Paris there are no gym related resolutions, but rather a specific cake called Galette des Rois that’s meant to be eaten all of January with a toy hidden inside and a crown for the winner who finds it. So we observed local custom and tucked into no less than 3 this week, plus the kids had some at school where they failed to adequately explain to my daughter that yes she was the queen but that with great power also comes great responsibility. The first gf version I bought unsurprisingly wasn’t amazing which was just an excuse to make one myself with a double filling, meaning there were leftovers to enjoy for days.

I took the start of 2025 as an opportunity to sage the house and rid it of any bad ju-ju that accumulated over the past year. What no-one tells you is that smouldering sage smells quite similar to another herb that’s still illegal to burn in France, and after making sure I got it into every last corner I had some explaining to do to the family and neighbours.

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In France sales run on a specific schedule that’s mandated by the state, and on the first day I just happened to be running errands in Le Bon Marché and accidentally stumbled upon la braderie (which means garage sale or flea market so doesn’t translate so well) which I’ve never seen before. It’s a big section painted bright red (recently, judging by the fumes) that was a beautiful chaos of everything and anything. All resolutions to only buy second hand went out the window as a year of no shopping swept me along to the register holding 3 beautiful items and I’m still promising myself I’ll return them but my resolve is weak. I’m not sure if they have it every year as I’ve never seen it before but it’s currently on the first floor. God’s Speed.

My mum is rather jealous of my serrated knife collection so I gave her a “knife IOU” for Christmas (there’s a reason I’m her favourite child) and we finally headed over to Landline so she could choose one. They were sadly out of their beloved tomato knives but she settled on a new baguette knife and some other bits and pieces, happy she brought luggage this trip so she can get them home safely.

My younger children are very close in age and quite inseparable but this year I’m trying to give them both a little solo time (teenager is not forgotten but has understandably zero interest in more time with us). So on Saturday my husband and I bundled our son onto an early train and after a few hours we arrived at Bourg-Saint-Maurice for the short funicular ride to Les Arcs, where we’re spending a few days on the slopes.

My ski pants were purchased in 2011 so each time they zip up is cause for celebration, and it was with great pride I got them closed again this week, after a particularly indulgent festive season. As I shuffled onto the ski lift, reminded of past injuries including a torn ACL, torn peroneal retinaculum (it’s in the ankle, thank you very much), a few screws in my elbow and assorted other niggles that make me the sort of person that can tell the weather in advance, I pondered on my mortality as only hurtling down a mountain at speed can make you do.

Riding the chairlift as the clouds cleared I witnessed the equivalent of a snow “sun shower” which had the flakes glittering in the sun like I’ve never seen before and as we rounded some trees a tiny little rainbow circle greeted us, which lasted just a minute before disappearing. I know things are tough almost everywhere right now but there is also beauty to keep us all going.

Have a great week,

- Emily

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If you’re in Paris this week my old ceramics teacher Sally Cleary (who has since moved to Sète) is having an exhibition called Dépaysement in the Marais (until 19 January). I missed the vernissage but will be popping by to say hi and gaze at her beautiful work this week. Support female living artists!

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Cheese we’re eating this week:

• Reblochon - a soft washed-rind and smear-ripened raw cow’s milk cheese from the Haute-Savoie region of France with an AOC designation. It’s often used to make tartiflette.

• Emmental - a medium-hard cheese from Switzerland that melts easily and is often used in crêpes.

• Beaufort - a firm, raw cow's milk cheese produced in the French alps, commonly used in fondue.

All 3 cheeses were eaten in the Alps.

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Tartiflette

Feel free to mess around with the proportions - I always add more cheese and bacon than any recipe says.

• 1 kilo waxy potatoes

• 1 onion (plus butter to fry it in)

• 300g bacon lardons

• 450g reblochon cheese

• 200ml thick cream

• Salt & pepper

• White wine (optional)

• Thyme (optional)

1. Preheat the oven to 200C.

2. Peel and thickly slice the potatoes, then boil in salted water until just tender and drain.

3. While they are boiling finely chop the onion and fry in a little butter for a few minutes, until translucent. Add the bacon and cook until it all begins to brown.

4. If using add in a splash of white wine and the thyme and simmer to reduce.

5. Take off the heat and stir in the cream.

6. Layer the potatoes, bacon and onion mixture and half of the cheese in an ovenproof dish/skillet. Season with salt and pepper.

7. Top with the remaining reblochon, rind facing up and place in the oven for about 15 minutes.

Bon appétit!

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Real Life Paris Photo

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What Women Want #10