Stand Mixer

These are the perfect dinner rolls. Light and tangy, they are delicious eaten out of hand, dragged through a bowl of sauce, or slathered with good butter. Leftover rolls can be kept in a plastic bag and reheated in the oven or they can be split and toasted for breakfast. They can be sliced for bread pudding or diced for stuffing. If you prefer, you can shape the dough into two long loaves instead of small rolls, or you can shape it into the traditional wide, flat slipper loaf that ciabatta is named for. Either way, it makes for excellent sandwiches or grilled crostini.

What would a French or any festive meal be without a little chocolate? Françoise Tenenbaum, a deputy mayor of Dijon, shared her entire recipe book with me. When she has time in her busy schedule, she rolls these chocolate truffles at home to serve for parties. They are also perfect for Passover.

This cookie was one that “Mamine”—an affectionate name for Maryse Weil, the matriarch of the Weil family from Besançon—baked as a young girl for family gatherings. Her granddaughter Martine Trèves makes it now in her kitchen. She showed me the recipe from a handwritten book that suggested adding a “grain of salt” to the batter.

When I was a student in Paris, I became hooked on intensely tart yet sweet French lemon tarts, and sampled them at every pastry shop I could find. I still love them, especially when they are bitingly tart.

This recipe, made from mashed potatoes fried in little patties, came from Poland to Metz a century ago. I have tasted different versions of Passover and Hanukkah chremslach, whose name refers to the well in the pan in which they were traditionally formed before frying. Sometimes stuffed with meat, they should be eaten piping hot, as directly from the pan as your fingers and tongue can stand.

Most Jews in France prior to the twentieth century used handwritten cookbooks passed down from mother to daughter. And since Alsace-Lorraine was under German occupation between 1871 and 1918, the majority of the Jews living there read German, using many of the dozen or so kosher cookbooks published in Germany in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Combing through these German books and her mother’s handwritten cookbook, Agar Lippmann, a caterer in Lyon, came across a recipe she had been trying to track down for years. Hutzel wecken, which literally means hat- or dome-shaped little rolls in German, is a very old Hanukkah and To B’Shevat (the new year of trees) fruitcake rarely made today. I prefer it treated more as bread, sliced very thin and served with cheese or really good butter. My guess is that the peanuts were a later addition. If you don’t have all the different dried fruits and nuts, just use what you have. The recipe is very flexible. Once, when I made it for a party, some of the guests liked it so much that, unbeknownst to me, they took home little slices hidden in paper napkins for their breakfast!

On a recent visit to the Marais, I stopped in at Florence Finkelsztajn’s Traiteur Delicatessen, as I always do. The quarter has two Finkelsztajn delicatessens, one trimmed in yellow (Florence’s ex-husband’s) and one in blue (Florence’s—now renamed Kahn). According to Gilles Pudlowski, the gastronomic critic of Polish Jewish origin who writes the popular Pudlo restaurant guides, Florence’s store is the best place to satisfy a nostalgic craving for eastern European cooking. In addition to Central European Yiddish specialties, like herring, chopped liver, and pastrami, Florence also sells Pudlo, baked in the back of the shop. I have made her recipe, which she gave me a few years ago, and I can assure you it is delicious. Pletzl, short for Bialystoker tsibele pletzl, refers to a circular eastern European flat onion bread, often studded with poppy seeds, that came from the city of Bialystok, Poland. The bread is known in America in a smaller version as the bialy. Try it as a snack hot from the oven, or make a “big pletzl sandwich,” as Florence does. Her fillings vary as much as the different ethnicities of Jews living in Paris today: Alsatian pickelfleisch (corned beef), Romanian pastrami, Russian eggplant caviar (see page 34), North African roasted peppers, and French tomato and lettuce.

When Huguette Uhry married a local butcher from the town of Ingwiller in Alsace, her sisterin-law lived with her, helping with the cooking. They usually had eighteen people for lunch and dinner, including children, friends, and workers. Today, retired and living in nearby Bollwiller, Madame Uhry is known throughout Alsace as a great cook. Some of her recipes appear on the Web site judaisme.sdv.fr. Here is her brioche, which she starts one day and bakes Rosh Hashanah morning for breakfast, before the family goes to synagogue.

“Look at that beautiful brioche,” I overheard a guest saying at a Bat Mitzvah in Geneva. The brioche was the glistening round challah made by Nicole Garai, the rabbi’s wife. During the service at the hidden Quai du Seujet Synagogue, located near the Rhône River, Nicole helps her husband by escorting assigned readers to the bima (platform). The Garais, French Jews, came to Switzerland to start this synagogue in the 1980s. Nicole told me that she bakes challah for people of whom she is fond, like her congregant, Juliette Laurent, braiding it in a round to signify the circle of life for Rosh Hodesh (the first of the month); she also makes it for the new year, and for Bar and Bat Mitzvahs. I especially liked the way she decorated the challah, by first liberally sprinkling a thick band of sesame seeds, then poppy seeds all over the top of the bread. Another trick she uses is to brush the bread twice: once at the beginning of the second rise, after the bread is braided, and again just before she pops it into a cold oven. The procedure of turning on the heat after the bread is in the oven must date back a long time, at least to the beginning of home wood ovens.

Walking through the colorful Belleville market in Paris one Friday morning, I came across a Jewish bakery. Glancing in the window, I was surprised to see a triangular Tunisian Friday night bread called bejma, made out of three balls of dough. It was similar in flavor to a good eastern European challah. A few years later, I passed by a branch of Charles Traiteur, on the Boulevard Voltaire, and there was the bejma again, this time placed right next to the eastern European challah.

Kalonymus Ben Kalonymus, a Provençal Jewish philosopher, writer, and translator who wrote in the early part of the fourteenth century, satirized the Jewish community of Arles for dreaming, while at synagogue, about the honey, milk, and flour that they would use to make their ladder breads for Shavuot. Although fougasse was and is usually made with oil, at this Jewish holiday celebrating the giving of the Torah and the abundance of dairy products at the time of the barley harvest, the Jews used milk. The fougasse was baked in the shape of a so- called ladder, with holes, and candied cherries or candied orange peel hung or embedded in the dough. Ladders to heaven are a common metaphor for holiday breads in Judaism. The fougasse, kneaded and shaped by hand at home for the Sabbath and holidays, was then carried on a board to the baker, sometimes Jewish and sometimes Christian, depending on the size of the Jewish community in the town.

This classic dessert is a “soft-hard” meringue that needs to dry in the oven rather than actually bake. If it is at all browned, the result is a chewy, not delicate base for fresh strawberries or other soft fruits and berries. The convection oven produces an ideally tender meringue that can be made ahead and stored in an airtight container in a cool place for at least 2 weeks.

These cookies are a little less sweet than most. Preheat the convection oven while you quickly mix up the dough. Space the oven racks evenly in the oven and bake three panfuls at one time.

You can use these directions to adapt your favorite biscotti recipe to bake in the convection oven. Both temperature and baking time are reduced, plus you can bake on multiple racks with even results.

In the convection oven, the baking temperature is reduced from 375°F to 350°F, and the baking time from 12 to 9 minutes. If that alone isn’t enough to convince you to turn on the convection bake mode, I bake three sheets of cookies at one time, which is what the recipe yields, reducing the total baking time from 36 to 9 minutes.

Using a convection oven lets you bake multiple sheets of cookies at one time. Just be sure to use dark, rimless, noninsulated cookie sheets.

Chewy with nuts, coconut, dried fruit, and chocolate chips. Using my quick one-bowl method, you can stir up the cookie dough in the same time it takes for the oven to preheat.

Long, slow baking in the convection oven produces a beautiful cake, one that has a silky texture. A bit of flour in the mixture makes the cake easier to cut. This makes a large cheesecake, ideal for a party. Top it with fresh berries in season or use one of the variations below.

This is the simplest of doughs for cut-out cookies, but the best! Bake three sheets of cookies at a time and reduce the oven temperature to 300°F for the most even baking.

Eggs, sugar, and flour in equal measure are the basis of this simple cake, which bakes in just 20 minutes and can be filled with fruit or berries in season.