The flavor of France: mirepoix

Of course you've heard of things like Italian seasoning, curry powder, adobo, and that sort of thing -- seasonings that attempt to capture the flavor of a whole cuisine in a jar. Sometimes they work, sometimes... not so much. As a general rule, I tend to treat the newest blend at Penzeys as an excuse to have grilled chicken or pork chops -- on a relatively plain canvas like that, seasoning blends can really shine in a way that they couldn't if you just stirred them into a sauce or something like that. They can be nice and they're often an example of culinary creativity in the small, sometimes even going so far as to make a statement. But at the end of the day, you usually can't sum up an entire cuisine in just a few spices. Most cuisines have a flavor base that they identify strongly with, and in this blog we're going to look at one of the most common, learned by every culinary student, and intimately identified with French cuisine in particular: mirepoix.

In its most basic form, mirepoix is a mixture of onions, carrots, and celery, all vegetables traditionally thought of as "aromatics". (Yes, even celery. Try some really green celery, just by itself, and you'll see why.) Usually it's done in a 2:1:1 ratio and cooked slowly with butter or oil until softened, then used as a flavor base for any number of items, but particularly stocks, sauces, and braises; indeed, a well-browned mirepoix (perhaps with some mushrooms added for umami) can be a base all by itself for a very serviceable vegan brown gravy. I tend to start my beef stews and pot roasts off with it, but that's by no means the only thing you can do with it; a raw mirepoix, for example, can go into a chicken or turkey instead of a bread or rice stuffing, although you probably wouldn't want to bring it out of the bird and straight to the table without giving it a sanitizing zap in the microwave first. A raw mirepoix is also a basic ingredient in most western European recipes for chicken stock.

Escoffier (it all comes back to Escoffier in classic French cooking) treats mirepoix as a separate recipe, to be used as a building block for other dishes; although this isn't his recipe (more on that below), I'll follow his lead for this cooked basic mirepoix.

• Take two parts (by weight) chopped yellow onions, one part chopped carrots, and one part chopped celery. Melt some butter or oil in a pan and add the vegetables along with a generous sprinkling of salt. Cook over medium heat until the onions are translucent and the carrots and celery are softening; if making the mirepoix for a gravy, keep cooking, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are browned to the degree you want, then proceed with roux, stock, etc. This mirepoix can be stored for a day or so in the refrigerator, but unless you're running a restaurant you probably won't want to do this.

Since very little of what I cook is meant to be strictly French or strictly classical, I usually add a couple of cloves of garlic to my mirepoix, either sliced (for stews) or crushed (for anything else), which is also the basis for some Italian soffritti (about which more in a future post). In addition, meat is often added; Escoffier's recipe called for ham or pork belly, and I seem to have this unhealthy compulsion to add applewood-smoked bacon to my beef stews. As mentioned above, the addition of mushrooms can perform a similar function in vegetarian cooking. Finally, a mirepoix that's chopped fine and used as a garnish is known as a matignon (absolutely nothing to do with the high school I graduated from).

So this is the first in what I hope will be a series of little vignettes on what makes a cuisine taste like it does. Hope it helps you...