DEAREST CHLOE story, recipe and photography by BRENDA ATHANUS Many years ago, when we first met Chloe, we never knew much about her, or even how old she was—she was a French woman of mystery. The one thing we knew was that she was very fussy about all the food she purchased, especially her cheeses. She would arrive at the strike of nine in the morning as the first baguettes were exiting our oven. She’d order one be put aside and turned her attention to the cheese case. If we had a wild and unusual little French cheese she would grab it, turning it all around for careful inspection, while leaving the cheese case doors wide open. If she liked the cheese, she would tell us a story. If not, she’d put it back anywhere and ask for a fresh cut piece of Comté and depart with her hot baguette until next week.
Do you peel the apricots or include the skin in the jam?