Good old-fashioned French cooking in VT

Quite soon after our return to the US (ahem, "quite soon" being "within 24 hours"), my family and I were hit with a familiar longing: the longing for France, her picturesque panoramas, her quizzical but ultimately amusing and endearing people, and her rich culture, but, most of all, for her superb cuisine.

Let's just face it: no matter how many French people move to the States, how many French-sounding restaurants appear in chic foodie towns, or how many DeanandDelucaCitarellaDagostino's attempt to pass off "French" baguettes and croissants, let's face it, mes enfants--French food only exists in France.

Even in a place like VT, where people flock to and produce organic and all natural products with a kind of frenzy, you cannot find the same quality of ingredients or devotion to food as you do so easily in France. Boy, they have got it good.

I noticed that our shopping cart contained products that were decidedly reminiscent of France: a French bread, a wheel of brie, heavy whipping cream, butter, a robust red wine, etc.

But no matter how hard we try, it's near-impossible to bring the buttery goodness of France to our American table.

That, however, does not prevent us from attempting to reproduce the tastes of France in our kitchen in VT; since our return home, we've made Blanquette de Veau, a veal stew; Quiche Lorraine; Gambas a l'Ail, shrimp fried in garlic and butter; and a Fricassee de Poulet a l'Ancienne, a creamy soup with full pieces of perfectly-cooked chicken.

We may not hit home runs, but we sure have fun trying.