Ascension Sunday: My Taller Half (MTH) and I had a lovely drive to church this morning. We were happy to be with our church family and to worship the King. Afterward, we did our Bigger City errands, including picking up storm supplies, then we headed back home. We still had a lot of daylight ahead of us. I had plants to tend to and Sunday dinner to make.
The day before yesterday, I found some pole beans ready for harvesting, so I picked enough for a dinner. MTH asked for some pot roast to go with the beans and potatoes. The menu was set.
Today, I made my second attempt at potatoes au gratin. This time, I took Mastering the Art of French Cooking from the shelf. Reading the recipe made me wonder if it could possibly be better than the last one. It was a simpler recipe, less rich, less cheesy. In fact, she said you don’t even need to use cheese! Inconceivable!
But au gratin doesn’t specifically mean covered with cheese. The origins are a little misty, but it seems to mean a dish that is golden brown on the top, usually from browning cheese or buttered bread crumbs or, in this case, milk. One source said that au gratin is also used to describe the “top people” in society in the same way the upper crust came to mean people of worth or high social standing.
The alleged story behind upper crust is that, in the Middle Ages, the most honored guests at a meal would be offered the top crust of the bread. If you can imagine baking in a very unreliable and potentially dirty stone oven, the bottom of the bread would be more likely to be gritty, overdone, and tough. The top would be tender. I write alleged because there apparently isn’t a lot of evidence to support this theory, though it sounds plausible. One potential bit of evidence is John Russell’s, The boke of nurture, folowyng Englondis gise, written in the mid-15th Century.
Kutt ye vpper crust for youre souerayne. (Cut youe upper crust [of bread] for your sovereign)
https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/upper-crust.html
The idea behind both phrases seems to be that the rich and powerful get the best food. I might argue that “peasant food” is some of the tastiest around, or even argue for the plausibility of the upper crust story, but I won’t argue French cooking with the Julia Child. Julia wouldn’t fail me, would she?
Julia’s recipe called for the dish of potatoes to be put on the burner to bring the milk up to a simmer before putting it in the oven. My Dutch oven would do that, but it was too big and deep for the potatoes. My pretty casserole dishes cannot be used on the stovetop. I was about to give up on the recipe when I realized that my largest cast iron skillet would be perfect. It can go from stovetop to oven, and the dimensions are just right. We fry bacon in it and make great pizza in it, so why not? Is there anything cast iron can’t do? Okay, it can’t go in the dishwasher, but we don’t own a dishwasher, so that is fine!
The kitchen was getting pretty hot by the time dinner was ready, and I was getting tired. MTH said the blessing, then we became quiet as we tested the results.
MTH smiled. Too good for anyone but us. MTH’s Auntie N— use to say that a lot.
Julia did not let us down. The potatoes were wonderfully creamy. They weren’t as rich as the first recipe, not as cheesy, but that wasn’t a negative. It was simply delicious. MTH said everything was perfect. He may have been buttering me up to encourage me to make it again, but I will take the compliment.
As I enjoyed the pleasure of a simple meal with my husband, I looked out the window at the gathering dusk. I love the play of light and dark between the last rays of the sun, the leaves of the trees, and the clouds in the sky. I silently thanked the Father for His grace, for this moment of contentment with my husband, and for Julia Child and her Gratin Dauphinois. Life is good.