Gratin Dauphinois – Creamy and Comforting Roasted Potatoes

potatoes daphaunoise

Cool weather continues to reign here in NYC, even though it’s almost mid-April.  It’s also feels kind of damp to me, which makes it seem even chillier.  Some of you might laugh when I say that temperatures in the low-60s make for chilly times, but I (like to joke that I) have thin California blood and have always found that this kind of weather produces in me an intense longing for 80-degree days.

naked potatoes

However, weather like this is perfect for roasted root vegetables – they are so comforting, plus it’s not hot enough yet to eschew your oven.  Sweet potatoes with rosemary and garlic are nice; butternut squash with thyme is also delicious; carrots, onions, and parsnips underneath a roasting chicken is truly fantastic.  However, what’s really calling me these days is gratin dauphiois – a simple dish of roasted potatoes in milk.

potatoes simmering

Contrary to popular belief, there is no cheese in this dish (though I’ve seen some recipes that ask for it).  You wouldn’t know it by just looking at it – to me, it really looks like there must be cheese in there.  What else would produce such a glorious and tasty crust? Well, it’s the starch in the potatoes that encourage this, actually.  Whoever figured this out was brilliant.

in the dish

The potatoes come out perfectly cooked – warm and creamy and smooth.  The milk/half-and-half/cream thickens from the starch.  The garlic and nutmeg add a nice hint of flavor, too.  Be sure to use a good quality milk/half-and-half/cream – preferably from grass-fed cows, which provides so much more nutrition, not to mention superior taste.  Organic potatoes are preferred because of the pesticide residue that can remain with conventionally grown potatoes; Yukon Golds would be nice.

potatoes again

As an aside, whenever I read the name of this dish, I think of the piece by the great French theorist and composer Jean-Philippe Rameau, La Dauphine.  Of course, gratin dauphinois is named after Dauphiné, a former province in southeastern France, where the dish is a specialty of that region. In any case, La Dauphine is the first piece of Rameau’s that I ever played, and it is the only solo harpsichord piece he wrote after spending his time writing operas.  It was written in the style of an improvisation, to honor the marriage between Marie-Josèphe of Saxony and Louis XV.

Gratin Dauphinois
Clotilde’s recipe from Chocolate & Zucchini

2 pounds potatoes, a mix of waxy and baking potatoes (if you prefer to use only one type, pick waxy potatoes, not too firm), preferably organic
2 cups half-and-half or whole milk (absolutely not skim milk), preferably grass-fed
1 1/2 teaspoons sea salt
freshly grated nutmeg
1 clove garlic, sliced lengthwise
3 tablespoons finely chopped chives (optional)
1/4 cup heavy cream, preferably grass-fed

Peel the potatoes, rinse them briefly, and slice them thinly (about 1/10th of an inch) and evenly.  Do not rinse after slicing, or you will lose all that precious starch.

Combine the sliced potatoes, milk, salt and a good grating of nutmeg in a saucepan. Bring to a simmer over medium-low heat, and keep simmering for 8 minutes, stirring the potatoes and scraping the bottom of the pan regularly to prevent sticking/scorching. The milk will gradually thicken to a creamy consistency.

While the potatoes are simmering, preheat the oven to 430F and rub the bottom and sides of a medium earthenware or glass baking dish with the cut sides of the garlic clove.

Transfer half of the potatoes into the baking dish, sprinkle with the chives if using, and drizzle with half of the cream. Add the rest of the potatoes, pour the cooking milk over them, and drizzle with the remaining cream.

Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, until bubbly on the edges and nicely browned at the top. Let stand for 5 minutes before serving.

Serves 6 as a side dish.

This post is participating in Real Food Wednesday, hosted by Kelly the Kitchen Kop.

Socca

socca round

Socca, too me, has always had an exotic aura about it.   From time to time I’d imagine what it might be like to eat it while lingering on vacation in the south of France, enjoying this chickpea crepe on a lazy afternoon in sea-salted air.

I wondered if it needed special ingredients that you could only get abroad.  Well, the answer is… no.  Turns out it’s simple, unpretentious food, made with only a handful of ingredients. My favorite!

I was inspired most recently to make socca after going through the little bags of flours in my pantry, and putting some of them in glass jars that I bought on the weekend. I had the majority of a bag of chickpea flour sitting on the shelf, left over from making baked sweet potato falafel a while back.  The flour didn’t all fit in my glass jar, so I thought why not use some of it up. Socca came to mind immediately.

socca batter in the pan

socca slice new

I first checked for the recipe in one of my favorite cookbooks, but turns out that particular recipe called for an addition of a cup of white flour, something I wasn’t too keen on. So, I turned to the interwebs for guidance. I came across David Lebowitz’s recipe, which was simple and straightforward in its ingredients, and was exactly what I was looking for (and no white flour).

It was delicious!  Very easy to make, consisting of five ingredients that come together effortlessly.  It was well-received in my household, so much so that I plan to make it regularly.  This summer I’ll be eating it with an ice cold glass of rosé.

Socca
from David Lebowitz’s The Sweet Life in Paris

I found it to be easier to heat up the initial pan of olive oil on top of the stove instead of in the oven with the broiler. This also means there is one less scary grab of a hot hot hot pan handle.  Socca is also naturally gluten free.

1 cup (130g) chickpea flour
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons (280ml) water
3/4 teaspoon sea salt
1/8 teaspoon ground cumin
2 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
freshly-ground black pepper, plus additional sea salt and olive oil for serving

Mix together the flour, water, salt, cumin, and 1 1/2 tablespoons of the olive oil. Let batter rest at least 2 hours, covered, at room temperature.

To cook, heat the broiler in your oven. Oil a 9- or 10-inch (23cm) pan (I use a well-seasoned cast iron skillet) with the remaining olive oil and heat the pan on top of the stove (you can heat it in your oven if you prefer).

Once the pan and the oven are blazing-hot, pour enough batter into the pan to cover the bottom, swirl it around, then pop it back in the oven.

Bake until the socca is firm and beginning to blister and burn. The exact time will depend on your broiler.

Slide the socca out of the pan onto a cutting board, slice into pieces, then shower it with coarse salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil.

Cook the remaining socca batter the same way, adding a touch more oil to the pan between each one.

Makes about three 9 10-inch (23cm) pancakes