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Sauteed Potatoes, Red Peppers Complement Main Course

Rose Levy Beranbaum Los Angeles Times Service

I once wrote a fan letter to chef Pierre Franey, telling him that if he had been writing his “60-Minute Gourmet” column when I had first started cooking, I might never have become a food professional.

The reason is that his straightforward, inspired recipes always worked, unlike some of my earliest attempts - the disasters of which prompted me to delve further and further to get to the bottom of how cooking, particularly baking, works.

My first oatmeal cookie, from the back of the oatmeal box, was just that - a cookie. During baking, all the batter merged to form one giant sheet. Conversely, my first cake - from a mix, no less - came out of the pan in three pieces. (The instructions had said to grease the pan, but hadn’t mentioned flouring it.) Puzzled and disappointed, with my little brother at my elbow asking what I was going to do, I glued it together with frosting from a can.

The filling for my first lemon meringue pie wouldn’t thicken even when, out of desperation and scientific curiosity, I added three-quarters of a box of cornstarch. As I was living in a rural area at the time, I suspected that the only possible culprit might be the water, so I had it tested. Sure enough, it was at the highest level of mineral content. The food professional in me was born.

Early on in my career, while making my first classic buttercream and having it crystallize each time, I made the astounding discovery that thermometers, which I had believed to be infallible scientific instruments, varied widely in accuracy.

Complaining to my husband, a doctor, that better thermometers were made for human temperatures than for baking, he encouraged me to design and produce ones to my own higher standards. The Cordon Rose thermometers, one for chocolate and the other for sugar/deep fat, were born.

And that is how I met Pierre Franey. He was writing a column on equipment for the New York Times, and it was my hope that he would feature the thermometers. He asked me to meet him at Le Cirque after a special luncheon in which he was participating.

I arrived to find an armed guard standing at the door. I knew Franey was a national treasure, but this seemed a bit extreme. When questioned, Franey looked at me as if I were crazy and explained that the guard was there because the guest of honor was the king of Spain. I replied, “For me, it is you who are king and worthy of protection.” He bowed his head modestly.

Then I showed him the thermometers. One side of his mouth went down in his characteristic smile, which was merely a physical quirk but seemed to indicate a dash of irony. “Just how many people do you suppose will buy a chocolate thermometer?” he queried.

Awed though I was by his presence, my playfulness and daring got the better of me. “About as many as will buy the refrigerated marble top you wrote about in last week’s column,” I countered. “You see, people who are interested in tempering chocolate are failing and blaming themselves instead of the equipment. This thermometer will make it possible for them to succeed.”

Franey made no promises but asked to try out the chocolate thermometer. A few weeks later, much to my delight, there it appeared in his column.

Perhaps he was right; my little thermometer business never made me a fortune, but it did gradually find its niche. And not only do I have reliable thermometers for my own use (my main motive in the first place), I did eventually earn enough to put a down payment on a much-needed kitchen renovation.

I saw Franey several months ago, at the 50th anniversary celebration of the renowned restaurant, La Cote Basque. I remember, at the time, reflecting on how he would always be one of the culinary cornerstones of this country. It was only weeks before he died last Oct. 15. It is sad to have lost him.

The following is one of my favorite Franey side-dish recipes. It is colorful, delicious, complements a wide variety of main courses and, therefore, makes regular appearances at our table.

Sauteed Potatoes With Sweet Red Peppers and Onions

2 pounds potatoes (preferably Yukon gold), peeled and cut into 1/2-inch dice

1/4 cup olive oil

2/3 cup thinly sliced onions

2 sweet red peppers, cored, seeded and cut into 1/2-inch dice

Salt, pepper

2 tablespoons minced parsley

Place cubed potatoes in cold water. When ready to cook, drain and place in medium saucepan with cold salted water to cover. Bring to boil. Reduce heat and simmer 1 minute. Drain well.

Heat oil in large nonstick skillet set over medium-high heat. Lower heat to medium. Add potatoes and cook, stirring occasionally, 5 minutes. Add onions, peppers and salt and pepper to taste. Cook, stirring often, until tender and golden-brown, about 7 minutes. Sprinkle with parsley and serve.

Yield: 4 servings.