When
I lived in San Francisco, we used to joke (lovingly) that whenever we
went to Zuni Café,
that there would be at least three things on the menu that you had to ask
the server what they were. On the other hand, I think if you asked ten
people in Paris what aillade
is, ten out of ten wouldn’t know either. Unless they were from the
Languedoc, where aillade
is from.
I
had made plans to cook up a simple pot of beans when I noticed a few
knobby jarrets de
porc demi-sel, salted-cured pork knuckles, at the charcuterie
stand at the market, so I picked up a trio to make pork and beans. I’ll
get to that recipe in a few days or so, but for now, I want to share this
lovely aillade
before another minute passes, which has a distinctive nuttiness of
pistachios with a persuasive hit of garlic, suspended in a generous pool
of good olive oil.
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