Free The World in My Kitchen by Colette Rossant Page A

pink stucco house with red Spanish roof tiles, arches, and a lovely patio with a fountain in the center. Women wore long flowing dresses, and men wore suits in iridescent dark blue or white jackets. Again I was introduced as Anne’s new French daughter-in-law. Very soon I was surrounded by several men, all talking at the same time. I heard them whisper: “You know Frenchmen are lazy; they take two hours for lunch. Also when you visit Paris and they spot you as a foreigner, they raise their prices. You cannot bargain with them. After all, they forgot that we liberated them.” Someone added, “All Frenchmen are drunks; they drink wine all the time…even for breakfast!” It was an avalanche of criticism that astonished me. I was about to respond when one man, slightly drunk, added that he was eagerly waiting for midnight to kiss me, “What a treat! A real French girl!” and everyone agreed and thought it was a great thing to do. At that point, upset and on the verge of tears, I went to look for Jimmy. “Take me home. I hate it here. Please take me home….”
    And so we left. Back at the house, we made a fire in the fireplace, and Jimmy tried to comfort me. As midnight approached, Jimmy kissed me and whispered, “Happy New Year in your new country. Let’s make love in front of the fire, and let’s make a baby…”
    The next morning I knew something in me had changed: My breasts felt rounder. I felt full and very happy—sure that I was expecting a child. Anne had been quite upset by our departure, but Jimmy explained that everything was so new for me that I had felt homesick for Paris. She accepted his explanation and forgave me.
    A few months later, I discovered that I was indeed pregnant. We decided that we needed a larger apartment so we moved to a two-bedroom apartment on Sixty-eighth Street, near Central Park West, with the same small dinette but a large living room and windows that overlooked the street. We bought some furniture, a couch, two chairs, and a dinette. The large wicker baskets were put away; we were ready to invite our new friends for dinner. We invited Gabriel Sedlis and his girlfriend; Peter Greenquist, a young man who had gone to Europe with Jimmy in 1949 and was working in a publishing house; and Michael Brill and his wife, Judy. Michael, an architect like Jimmy, was funny and very fat. He loved food, and it was amusing to cook for him. That night I went all out. I prepared a choucroute garnie, a French sauerkraut dish cooked in champagne with sausages, smoked ham, and boiled potatoes served with French mustard. With it I served hot Italian baguettes and fennel salad. The guests oohed and aahed and said they never tasted such delicious sauerkraut. I had found the sauerkraut in the Lower East Side, the sausages Uptown in the Eighties in a German neighborhood, and the fennel in Little Italy. We drank lots of wine, talked about politics, the state of architecture, the future, and what a great cook I was. I was proud and happy.
    As I was going to bed, I thought, This is my life;this is my home. I am going to have a baby. For the first time in many years, I felt I belonged somewhere. I was sure that the whole world was open to me, that in New York nothing was impossible, and that I could do anything I wanted.

    CUCUMBER SALAD WITH MINT
    Oriental cucumber is long and narrow and has fewer seeds than the regular cucumber.
    Peel and thinly slice 2 Oriental cucumbers. Place the cucumbers in a bowl. In another bowl, beat together 1½ cups of plain yogurt; add ½ teaspoon of lemon juice, and 1 tablespoon of olive oil, and 1 garlic clove, minced, and salt and pepper to taste. Mix well and pour over the cucumbers. Then chop 2 tablespoons of fresh mint leaves. Add to the salad and mix well. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
    Serves 4.
    HAMBURGERS WITH GREENPEPPER SAUCE
    Shape 1½ pounds of ground round into 4 hamburgers. In a large skillet, heat 1 tablespoon of butter with 1 tablespoon of olive oil. When the