They say there is nothing new under the sun, just classic ideas that are reinvented every few decades by a younger generation of innovators. This is no more true than in the world of fashion, but much the same can be said for culinary trends. And just as the miniskirt has yet again been resuscitated, so, too, has French cuisine.
Not that it ever disappeared, but in its latest sophisticated incarnation it has become light and creative with roots in both classical and robustly regional French cooking. What's happening in the kitchens and dining rooms of today's most fashionable French restaurants simply represents the latest chapter in America's on-again, off-again romance with haute cuisine.

Our historic penchant for French cuisine is shaped as much by world events and economic conditions as by diet fads and evolving tastes. This fascination dates back to our nation's infancy when Thomas Jefferson showcased France's sophisticated cuisine at White House dinners, lending validity to the newly emerging republic.

Manhattan's great French restaurant tradition began in the 19th century with Delmonico's and proliferated through the 1940s with Le Pavillon. A few decades later, Julia Child set into motion a renewed fascination with French food when her long-running PBS television series, "The French Chef," debuted in 1961; her seminal cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, followed in 1961 and became something of a bible for the home cook. And just as social mores were changing, America experienced a great awakening of taste in the 1970s with the clean, fresh flavors of nouvelle cuisine, so dubbed by the venerable Gault-Millau cuisine journal. This revolutionary style of French cuisine was most elegantly demonstrated by such luminaries as Michelin-starred chefs Paul Bocuse, Jean and Pierre Troisgros, Michel Guérard and Roger Vergé. By shrugging off the rigid structure of la grande cuisine, nouvelle cuisine paved the way for the high level of creativity that defines today's modern French cuisine.

In trend-conscious America, epicures are always hungering for the next new, new thing. And while the back-to-back emergence of popular 1980s cooking styles, such as California, Southwest, Pacific Rim and New World Cuisine, temporarily knocked upscale French off its marble pedestal, this stalwart cookery never really lost its footing.

"The more things change, the more things stay the same," says Jacques Pepin, renowned cookbook author and personal chef to three French presidents. "French technique is just as current today as it was in the past...you bone out a fish the same way, shuck an oyster the same way and make an omelet the same way. Recipes may change, the technique is the same."

Indeed, over the last few years, French cuisine has reasserted itself, and not since the nouvelle movement has it enjoyed its present cachet. Both French-born chefs and French-trained American chefs are arresting palates with sophisticated styles of modern cooking, unmistakable in manner, that share a common trait: French flair.

From elegant to unpretentious, a plethora of critically acclaimed restaurants have emerged whose notable chefs have constructed formidable, French-accented menus. "You have the bistro, the brasserie and haute cuisine, and there is room for all," says Daniel Boulud, the celebrated chef who presides over Manhattan's upscale Daniel and the more casual Café Boulud.

Whether it's Daniel or Le Bernadin (both of which received 4-star ratings in The New York Times), another New York-based French force, Fleur de Lys in San Francisco or Pascal's on Ponce in Miami, these modern French temples are serving inventive, distinctive dishes with a reliance on traditional techniques, seasonal ingredients and a commitment to elegant simplicity. Components such as these yield exquisitely complex flavors.

At San Francisco's Fleur de Lys, Chef-owner Hubert Keller takes a standard French lentil salad and gives it new life by eschewing the usual chervil for minced, fresh cilantro, using a dash of soy sauce in lieu of salt and employing fennel instead of onion and fresh fava beans for contrast. In a combination that would have once seemed heretical, he floats grouper and a fondue of endive on a pool of red wine sauce.

Keller and his contemporaries have abandoned some, but not all, of the butter and cream in favor of vegetable purées, infused oils, broths and juices. Service, too, has been simplified with a more relaxed, yet professional, approach that suits today's diner better than the more traditional formal French service. What truly distinguishes this new cuisine from classic French cookery, however, is its lively abundance of regional French influences combined with the bounty of the New World.

Yet at its heart, today's modern French is still grounded in Old World tradition. According to Miami's Chef Pascal Oudin, the key reason for the latest "French renaissance" is the public's desire for old, familiar standards. The menu at Pascal's includes a simple, perfectly roasted rack of lamb that five years ago would not have been considered exciting or creative enough by diners or critics.

Faîtes simple (keep it simple), one of the guiding principles espoused by Auguste Escoffier - the notable 19th-century French chef and writer - still holds true today. Indeed, the greatest concoctions are often those whose few ingredients meld into one sublime dish made all the more elegant by its simplicity.

After a decade or so of enduring unorthodox combinations and overtly creative dishes whose wantonly paired ingredients bore no relationship to each other, it seems we have come to our senses. "People yearn for classic dishes like lobster bisque, trout amandine and chateaubriand served to them in an elegant manner," Oudin explains. "Today's French cuisine is contemporary, not as heavy as it was in the 1960s, with a greater emphasis on texture, color and presentation."

The retinue of revived classics may include garlicky frog's legs, hearty duck confit and homey pot-au-feu, but French cooking has gradually been moving into the multicultural mainstream, too, picking up new ingredients from the Asian, Italian and American market baskets. Oriental spices, pasta and even wild rice are finding places in many dishes.

"The French are doing pasta and the Italians are doing breast of duck with endive," observes Jacques Pepin.

As much as this may sound like fusion food, it is actually more subtle than that. This convergence of of ideas and ingredients is as much a glance backward as it is the next generation of fusion. "I am a French chef," says Eric Ripert, executive chef of Le Bernadin, "but I am also a New Yorker now, and I am greatly influenced by the different cultures that surround me: South American, Chinese, Italian and American."

A native of Andorra, the tiny country between France and Spain, Ripert learned his craft at La Tour d'Argent and Robuchon in Paris. "Rather than bending ingredients to fit one of the world's most rigidly codified cuisines, the modern French-American restaurant creates or adapts dishes in order to utilize an ever-growing availability of high-quality produce," he explains.

Globe-hopping contributes to the melting pot factor. After a six-year apprenticeship at Michelin 3-star Auberge de I'll in Alsace, Fleur de Lys' Keller went on to work with Roger Vergé, opening restaurants in Sao Paulo, Brazil, before settling down in San Francisco. "I was seeing things and tasting things you never find in France," he says. He incorporates the ingredients he encountered on his travels, such as passion fruit, mango and lemon grass, into his French-style Fleur de Lys preparations. He also has blended the ideas of his executive chef, American Rick Richardson, with his own. Richardson has worked for Keller for more than 20 years, so it's no surprise to find all-American Chesapeake crab cakes on the menu. "I love to take American concepts and make them with French finesse," Keller remarks.

Modern attitudes also mean greater freedom. "Before nouvelle cuisine, if I wanted to make a hollandaise sauce with coriander, the head chef would lose his mind," Ripert recalls. "Today we have that luxury."

Le Bernadin's seafood-inspired menu is defined by elegant, brightly flavored dishes that seem almost ethereal. "Ten years ago, most fish sauces were based on cream or butter," Ripert continues, "now they're lighter, built on wine, olive oil or a vinaigrette, but we still offer some with cream. You need a dollop here and there to make everyone happy."

The metamorphosis of French cuisine can also be attributed to an infusion of New World knowledge as well as ingredients. A proliferation of highly regarded American schools specializing in the culinary arts has lent credibility to the student chef who does not go abroad to study classic cooking techniques.

Enlightened attitudes in the teaching kitchen plant the seeds of experimentation and innovation in student chefs. Legendary Chef Paul Bocuse thinks highly enough of American culinary resources to send his son, Jerome, to the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, New York. "We are seeing what is going on now in the United States, and the culinary talent, creativity and the quality of ingredients compels us to be better in France," Bocuse asserts.

"Before coming to America 20 years ago," Daniel Boulud recalls, "I had always assumed that the finest cooking, using the best ingredients, could be done only in France, where the tremendous variety of excellent ingredients -- the meats and fowls, vegetables and herbs, fruits and cheeses, fish and crustaceans -- had no other equal in the world. I am now convinced, however, that the quality and variety of the American bounty is similar to that found in European markets, yet more diverse.

"In the last decade, an abundance of superior foods, such as high-quality fresh herbs, fruit, vegetables and free-range poultry, have become more generally available here. From our base in Manhattan, we're in touch with small specialty farmers across the country, as well as fishermen, all of whom will overnight their harvest or day's catch."

Boulud has responded to American influences with a culinary style that balances the best of both worlds. The cuisine at Daniel celebrates nature's bounty, taking each season's most glorious ingredients and revealing their delicious flavors.

Born on a farm near Lyon, and trained in classic French discipline and technique with Michelin chefs Georges Blanc, Roger Vergé and Michel Guérard, Boulud is now teacher to two American-born chefs, Chinese-American Alex Lee, executive chef at Daniel, and Italian-American Andrew Carmellini, executive chef at Café Boulud.

"These two young Americans are greatly inspired by their culinary heritage and combine that with respect for French tradition and classic technique in dishes prepared in harmony with the bounty of the seasons. There has to be respect for quality; there is no compromise. That is what I teach everyone who comes into my kitchen," he asserts.

Like Boulud, Pascal Oudin was born and schooled in France. He began his culinary apprenticeship at the age of 13 in Moulin, training in classic French discipline and technique. Like many of his peers who came of age in the Bocuse revolution, he got the itch to come to America seeking fame and riches. At age 21, he took a job in Williamsburg, Virginia. "Under the French system I would have had to work as a sous-chef until I was 35 years old. After only one year here, I became an executive chef," he remarks.

That open-mindedness, along with a bountiful palette of American ingredients, inspired most of these newly arrived French chefs to reinvent their own recipes.

When Keller came to California from Brazil in 1982, he landed at Sutter 500, another Vergé restaurant. He could sense the culinary scene was about to explode. "Farmers came knocking at my door with incredible produce, and soon I would see that same exotic product in the supermarket," Keller recalls.

He fell in love with San Francisco and would become a culinary force as executive chef at the wildly popular Fleur de Lys in 1986.

As sophisticated diners again flock to the newest bastions of French haute cuisine, the popularity of the classic French bistro has been enhanced.

For generations, bistros have been the culinary backbone of France - the very soul of the French dining scene. Renditions of these no-frills neighborhood spots, where regulars drop in for local gossip and a reassuringly familiar meal, are cropping up stateside at a remarkable rate. The boom is such that a new generation of French restaurateurs are eager to nail the word "bistro" over their doors.

"The whole French idea is 'in' again -- cafés, bistros, brasseries," Keller confirms. "The climate is right for bistro food. There's a new, young American clientele that have traveled to France and experienced the uncomplicated, non-intimidating flavorful foods of the French bistro, and they have responded well to authentically executed bistros here. They also know right away when the food is not authentic -- you can't do things halfway."

Back to basics is the call to arms with cassoulet and simple roasted chicken dotting bistro menus on both coasts and points between. Keller is making plans to open an as-yet-unnamed bistro in San Francisco, and on the East Coast, Daniel Boulud will open a bistro dubbed DB in May.

Just as in years past, an abiding passion for excellence and a devotion to meticulous techniques drive today's French chef, and an awakened passion for French-style cooking, be it haute cuisine or simpler bistro fare, has left diners clamoring for reservations.

The inimitable Alain Ducasse, the only Michelin 6-star chef in the world -- three for his restaurant in Paris, and three for his Monaco venture -- recently brought his version of modern French cuisine to Manhattan. But don't count on a table at the legendary chef's eponymous restaurant, tucked away in the Essex House hotel. Soon after it opened in June 2000, there was a six-month waiting list with nearly 3,000 names on it.

In the meantime, consider making one or more of the modern French dishes that appear on these pages. Some are simple, some complex, but each is grounded in French tradition, the very essence of fine cuisine.

Mustard- and Herb-Crusted Rack of Lamb
adapted from the kitchen of Chef Pascal Oudin


2 trimmed racks of lamb (about 6 ribs each); reserve scraps
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Season racks with salt and pepper to taste. Heat olive oil in a small, shallow roasting pan (a 9" cast-iron skillet works well) over medium heat.

Place the racks of lamb fat-side down in the pan and sear for about 3 minutes, or until nicely browned. Place the pan in the center of the oven, and roast the lamb for 12 minutes for rare. Place lamb on a rack to rest for 5 minutes. Brush the mustard evenly over the racks. Sprinkle the herb crust mixture over the two racks and pat it firmly with your hands to make sure the mixture adheres to the meat.

Return lamb to the oven. (If you need a little extra time - guests are late or you're not quite ready - you could wait 20 minutes, but no more.) Roast the meat for about 7 minutes. It's done when it feels springy to the touch, and registers 125 to 130 degrees on an instant-read thermometer for medium-rare. (The lamb will dry and toughen if cooked beyond that point.)

Let the meat rest on the counter for 5 minutes before serving. Meanwhile, warm four dinner plates in the turned-off oven. Carve each rack into 4 rib portions. Arrange 2 or 3 on each warmed plate in an overlapping pattern. Spoon the sauce over and serve immediately.

For the Herb Crust Mixture:

6 tablespoons homemade bread crumbs
1 tablespoon rosemary
2 large garlic cloves
1 tablespoon minced thyme
4 tablespoons minced parsley
2 tablespoons olive oil
Salt and freshly ground back pepper
In the bowl of a food processor fitted with a steel blade, process all the ingredients until bread is completely green and add olive oil to form a paste-like consistency. Season to taste and set aside.

For the Sauce:

1 1/2 pound lamb bones and reserved scraps
1 large carrot, diced
1/2 medium red onion, diced
1 stalk celery, diced
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
4 sprigs fresh thyme
2 bay leaves
12 whole garlic cloves
2 cups veal stock (or homemade or low-sodium canned chicken broth)
1 cup dry white wine
Kosher salt
Freshly ground white pepper
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Combine vegetables and herbs with the lamb bones and scraps in a large roasting pan. Place in preheated oven and roast, stirring occasionally for 30 minutes, or until golden brown. Remove from the oven and place over medium high heat. Deglaze the pan with 1 cup of white wine and reduce by half. Add 6 cups of water and the veal or chicken broth and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer for 45 minutes. Remove from heat. Strain liquid into a medium saucepan and discard the solids. Skim fat from the top of liquid. Place over medium heat and simmer for about 20 minutes, or until reduced to 11/2 cups. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper. Set aside.

Techniques: To simplify carving, ask the butcher to remove the shin bone from the rack of lamb and make 1/2" cuts between the ribs.

For the most attractive presentation, "French" the racks of lamb: Trim all but a thin coating of fat from the meaty side of the racks. Turn them fat-side down, and score each rib about 21/2" below the tip. Remove the fat and meat (there won't be much) above the cut, and scrape the bones clean. (An accommodating butcher will do this for you.)

Serves 4


Courtesy of The Wine News

 

Food Editor Carole Kotkin is a Miami-based cooking instructor and consultant who co-authored Mmmmiami - Tempting Tropical Tastes for Home Cooks Everywhere. It provides clear, simple directions for 150 dishes, from the simple (good old Key Lime Pie) to the sublime (Coconut Mahi-Mahi with Passion Fruit Sauce). The wide array of flavors is especially wonderful and startling to those used to monocultural cooking; Miami cuisine is the product of many generations of interbreeding and hybrid vigor. Click on the link below for more details or to order.

Mmmmiami : Tempting Tropical Tastes for Cooks Everywhere