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INTRODUCTION
I never thought i would write a cookbook. In fact, my family dissolves into hysterics every time I mention this fact. Then again, I never thought I would speak fluent French, marry a Frenchman, own vacation rentals in the vineyards of Burgundy, or become a full-time writer.
I never cease to be amazed by life and those instants that turn your entire world on its axis in a matter of seconds. Such a moment happened for me when my local Rotary Club decided on the spur of the moment to send me to France instead of Belgium for my exchange year after high school.
That single decision defined the entire course of my existence. Over the course of a year in Burgundy I learned French, became enamored with the local food and wine, and most importantly, fell in love with my future husband, a Frenchman named, appropriately, Franck.
For those of you who haven’t yet discovered my memoirs, the short version is that oui, Franck and I soon realized in classic romance fashion we wanted to be together forever. Not everyone, however, was as enthused about this idea as we were. My parents were horrified I was moving in with an unknown Frenchman several years older than me, and Franck’s parents didn’t understand why he couldn’t just settle down with a nice village lass instead of leaving them to be with a girl who came from a vast, untamed country where wild beasts roamed.
Neverthless, we fought to be together, despite everyone’s belief that we could never make it work. Besides family opposition, we had to run the gauntlet of mafia landlords, real estate crooks, seemingly impossible immigration hurdles, and perilous jobs—which involved getting lost on the Pacific Ocean in the fog—as well as near-death experiences and disappearing priests, among countless other obstacles, in order to stay together.
Our romance spanned Burgundy, Montreal, Victoria, Alaska, Paris, Nepal, and Oxford. Luckily, we were both in it for the long run and went on to restore four old houses (plus a 13th-century wine cellar under the streets of Beaune) in the Burgundian vineyards and convert them to vacation rentals. After we finished that, I began to record our story in my Grape Series memoirs. In between, we managed to have three daughters and adopt a rescue dog. My family came to be because the Rotary decided on a whim to send me to France, and it is this very same family who laugh at the notion I’m co-authoring a cookbook.
It’s not that I’m terrible in the kitchen, although I do have some cooking disasters (some unfortunately involving fire extinguishers) to my name that form part of our family lore. I would classify myself as an intimidated cook, especially among the legendary chefs in Franck’s family who can all whip up a gourmet French meal at a moment’s notice. My cooking skills are not rated particularly high by Franck and our family and friends in France, so the news that I was co-authoring a cookbook struck them as hilarious. I have to admit that it even feels a bit absurd to me. I am a storyteller first and foremost. I never set out to be a cookbook writer. I do, however, believe that cooking is yet another (very delicious) form of storytelling.
I am perfectly positioned to relate to other intimidated cooks—and to share some of my secrets for feeling more confident in the kitchen. Over time, I slowly collected a quiverful of French recipes that I could consistently knock out of the park and that always earned accolades from even the staunchest of my French critics (and the French are not shy about offering criticism). These recipes came from friends and family, and sometimes even a ripped-out magazine article I adapted for my purposes. I committed most of these recipes to memory so that I had a respectable repertoire at my fingertips. This is my main tip for anyone who feels anxious about cooking: build a recipe bank, no matter how small, of dishes that you can master. This was the single most helpful thing that allowed me, as an intimidated cook, to become more confident. You’ll find my recipe bank (plus a few extras) within the pages of this book.
Unlike cooking, I’ve always been a natural-born genius at eating. As my dear French friend Marie declared at a recent dinner together, “Maybe Laura isn’t the best at cooking, but she is certainly the best at eating!”
Indeed, I am known among our friends and family in France as a gourmande, meaning a person who has a marked enthusiasm and appreciation for good food. Bien sûr, as I mentioned earlier, I am principally a storyteller, but because I am a gourmande storyteller, my memoirs are packed full of descriptions of the meals I have been privileged to enjoy in my many years in France. My readers tell me these descriptions make their mouths water and inspire them to cook up a storm.
As my Grape Series attracted more and more readers, the chorus of demands for a cookbook grew louder. My readers wanted to recreate the French dishes I wrote so lovingly about in my memoirs. There was only one problem: with all the will in the world, I was neither a confident cook nor a food photographer. . . . I had no idea where to begin such a project.
Luckily, Rebecca came to the rescue. I had known her for several years through the foodie community of Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, which is where I live when I’m not in Burgundy, and greatly admired her photography in local publications. She also published a wonderful brunch cookbook titled First, We Brunch a few years ago through TouchWood Editions. It began to dawn on me that I had perhaps found the perfect person to collaborate with.
Rebecca and I shared a vision of a cookbook based on my memoirs that was both visually stunning and accessible—a cookbook that felt friendly and fun for the home cook, even those with a few kitchen disasters to their name like moi. French recipes are perceived to be complicated and time-consuming. Some of them are, but the arsenal of dishes inside this book is proof that you can master French cooking without shedding a year’s worth of tears or spending hours in the kitchen (although there are a few exceptions, such as cannelés, but they’re so delicious they’re worth the extra work).
We set out to create a cookbook that feels just as welcoming as a family meal in Burgundy. Rebecca and I started with my own collection of French recipes as the skeleton of Bisous & Brioche, then we branched out into recipes I had tasted in France and dreamed of adding to my kitchen repertoire. She adapted and perfected them, and even created many wonderful new ones that I have already incorporated into my life. She developed, cooked, styled, and photographed all the recipes in this book.
We struggled for months to find a title for our cookbook that encapsulated the warmth of a home-cooked French meal enjoyed with loved ones. The word bisous may not be well known in North America, but in France it covered all our bases and more. Bisous are the welcome and farewell kisses that are part of life all over France, but the word is also what you would call out to a friend or use to sign off a letter or phone call to a loved one to express your affection and appreciation for having that person in your life. Bisous conveys warmth, welcome, and love.
As for the brioche part, Rebecca took my idea of a brioche recipe for the cookbook and ran with it, creating the most stunning and delicious honey-glazed brioche. That brioche is one of our star recipes and illustrates the magical synergy of the collaboration between the two of us. Besides, the writer in me loves the alliteration.
You’ll notice most of the recipe titles in this cookbook are in English rather than their original French. This is because this is a book about good food, not about learning all the French terms for that food. You don’t need to speak French to immerse yourself in France’s culinary culture. Our goal with Bisous & Brioche is always to reduce the intimidation factor. There is plenty of inspiration within these pages to provide you with the warm embrace of countless pleasurable hours around a table with gourmands you would give a bisou to. After all, that’s what life is for, n’est-ce pas?