Tartiflette

Tartiflette is a French dish I've never made. It's one of those things you eat after a day of skiing down alps, which I did once with a family of expert skiers, only to realize too late that my intermediate-level skiing couldn't compete with my friends, who pointed their skis straight down the top of the alps and took off. I tried my hardest to keep up, but despite the breathtaking scenery, I realized my skills were better in the kitchen than on the slopes, especially when compared to a French family of élite-level skiers.

If you go to street fairs, markets, or village festivals in France, you'll find it made in huge vats and sold in barquettes (containers) for people to take home and reheat, or to enjoy at communal wooden tables with glasses of crisp Savoie white wine.

Tartiflette, on the other hand, is simple to prepare at home. And when I saw a recipe in Chez Lesley, my friend Lesley Chesterman's fantastic new cookbook, I decided it was time to make it. Lesley worked as the Montreal Gazette's dining critic for many years before writing her book, which couldn't have come out at a better time, when we're all looking for solid classics. Lesley's original plan was to become a ballet dancer.

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When she realized that wasn't going to happen due to an injury, she decided to train as a pastry chef, first in her hometown of Montreal and then in France. Lesley pivoted to become a food writer and restaurant critic after experiencing a bad case of measles in France, being in a bad car accident, and working like a dog as a baker.

Lesley and I met about twenty years ago in Montreal, when she took me and a friend to a local sugar shack where the menu features maple syrup tapped from trees just outside the door. It was heaven for someone like me who loves maple syrup. There were even pitchers of maple syrup on the tables if you wanted to top off what was already served. (Which I did!) As a result, my memories of Lesley have always been fond.

Lesley spent a lot of time eating fancy food during her career as a dining critic, but after she left, she wanted to write a cookbook of recipes that anyone could make at home. Her book, Chez Lesley, written in French, reflects this, with the basics covered: crème caramel, crème brûlée, maple-pecan sablés (French butter cookies with a nod to her Canadian roots), cinnamon brioche, and a chocolate "mégamousse" served in an oversized bowl, as they do in French restaurants.

International favorites include Flammekueke (Alsatian flatbread topped with smoked bacon and cream), Soupe a l'oignon (French onion soup), and a "express" Bolognese. In other words, everything you want to eat, with simple, feasible recipes. Since winter has arrived and snow is expected this weekend, it seemed like the perfect time to make Tartiflette. While it is considered a traditional French dish, Tartiflette is based on another Savoie dish called Péla, according to the Reblochon website. Péla is made with fried potatoes, whereas Tartiflette, in an effort to be healthier, uses boiled or steamed potatoes.

You should use thicker-cut bacon batons, known as lardons in French cooking, or alumettes if they're thinner. Thick-cut bacon can be purchased and cut into batons or strips. If that isn't an option, simply cut your bacon strips into larger pieces before cooking. I had a variety of bacon types and thicknesses on hand, so I combined them for this recipe. But everything is fine. It's made of bacon.

In terms of "on hand," I'm still in "use what you've got" mode. Reblochon is a semi-soft cheese used in Tartiflette, but other semi-soft cheeses are also used. (Reblochon is apparently illegal in the United States.) In France, there are even unnamed cheeses (above) that are meant to be used for Tartiflette but lack an official appellation. Lesley uses Oka, a widely available cheese in Canada, in her recipe because Reblochon is "insanely expensive" where she lives.

Cheeses like cheddar, Emmenthal, Comté, and Gruyère are delicious, but they don't melt as well as semi-soft cheeses. I used Fromager d'Affinois, which I had stashed away in the back of my refrigerator from a cooking project I worked on about a month ago. It didn't get as melty and gooey as softer cheeses, but it tasted delicious. It wasn't a problem for me because I prefer crisp cheese to runny cheese.

Don't get too attached to a specific type of potato. If in doubt, follow the French example and go to your local market and ask the vendor which is the best. You want a potato that will be used for risollée (frying) rather than purée (mashed potatoes). Yellow potatoes, like waxy Yukon golds, are a good bet in general. Roseval, Monalisa, and Belle de Fontenay are all possible names in France. In 1881, French botanist Henry de Vilmorin cataloged 631 potato varieties in France. So there are plenty of options!

Lesley's version is heavy on the bacon (those Canadians!) and most French people dislike crisp bacon. The goal here is not to petrify the bacon, but to cook it while keeping it moist. Tartiflette is one of those deceptively simple (only a few ingredients) but deeply satisfying French dishes. It goes well with a big winter salad of sturdy, assertive greens like escarole, frisée, kale, radicchio, watercress, or Belgian endive.

Tartiflette

Reblochon is the traditional cheese to use, which can be difficult to find (and expensive) outside of France. Any semi-soft, meltable cheese with a brie or camembert texture will do. Oka was used by Lesley. Reblochon is frequently cut in half horizontally and baked with the rind side up on top of the potatoes. Leave the rind on whatever semi-soft cheese you use. Remove the bacon to make it vegetarian. To avoid pork, substitute smoked turkey bacon.

Primary Course

2 1/2 pounds (1 kg) peeled potatoes

salt

12 oz. (350 g) lardons (thick-cut bacon cut crosswise into batons)

1 large peeled and diced onion

1 garlic clove, peeled and minced

3 tbsp dry white wine (or vermouth)

black pepper, freshly ground

a quarter cup (60ml) heavy cream

1 pound (450g) Reblochon or another semi-soft cheese, thinly sliced (1/2- to 3/4-inch) (1,5-2cm)

Grease a 2-quart (2l) gratin or baking dish with butter. Warm up a large pot of lightly salted water. Cook the potatoes at a low boil for 12 to 15 minutes, or until a paring knife inserted into the center meets no resistance. You want them to be fully cooked but not overcooked. Drain and set aside the potatoes.
Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit (220 degrees Celsius). Place the bacon in a cold skillet. Increase the heat to medium-high and cook, stirring frequently, until the bacon is nearly crisp. (If your bacon doesn't have enough fat to keep it from sticking, drizzle with olive oil.) Drain the bacon onto a paper towel-lined plate.
Remove the bacon fat from the pan, reserving a few teaspoons for frying the onion. Cook, stirring frequently, until the onions are completely cooked and translucent, about 5 to 7 minutes. Turn off the heat and deglaze the pan with the wine or white wine, scraping the bottom to release any browned bits.
Place half of the potatoes and 1/2 - 3/4-inch (1,5-2cm) slices in a single layer in the baking dish. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste (the cheese and bacon will add salt). Spread half of the onion mixture and half of the bacon over the potatoes.
Place the remaining half of the potatoes in the baking dish in a single layer, season with salt and pepper, and top with the remaining onions and bacon. Drizzle the cream over the top, then layer the cheese slices in a single layer. Bake for 30 minutes on the middle rack of the oven, or until the cheese is melted and beginning to brown. Serve immediately.