Paula Croteau conducts a cooking class at her Boisseaux Cooking...

Paula Croteau conducts a cooking class at her Boisseaux Cooking School in Southold, where the menu includes vegetable paella, wedge Barcelona salad, spanish cucumbers, chocolate-almond bark and sangria roja. Credit: Linda Rosier

The bright, airy kitchen in the 1850s Southold cottage smelled of dry-toasted cumin seeds, freshly grated lemon zest and something earthy, spicy and downright tantalizing — smoked paprika, perhaps. The large central island was anchored by an arrangement of bell peppers and bouquets of herbs in glasses. The freshly toasted cumin sat waiting for the spice grinder. Wineglasses, rimmed with spiced sugar for sangria, stood at attention on a tray.

Paula Croteau, cofounder of Boisseaux Cooking School in Southold Credit: Linda Rosier

I was one of 10 people spending a Saturday morning at Boisseaux Cooking School with Paula Croteau, cofounder and former owner of Croteaux Vineyards in Southold. Among the first arrivals was Suzanne Hooper, who hopped on one of the stools around the island and mentioned she had been one of Croteau’s first students, about 20 years ago. "We made something delicious," she confided. "I’ve been coming back ever since."

I felt like I’d made a friend and soon discovered that the camaraderie in the room — there were a few regulars as well as first-timers, including two small family groups — is a hallmark of weekend mornings with Croteau. Her classes speak to anyone who leans into new cooking experiences — a pandemic pivot for many and one that continues to flourish.

Croteau, who is the author of "Farmhouse Kitchen Favorites" (2010) and is currently working on another cookbook, had a previous career in fashion and studied cooking around the world, but she has genuine farm-to-table roots: She grew up on a Southold potato farm. "My grandmother was my day care," she said, and talked about her first job in the food world. "I started making biscuits to sell with my father’s strawberries," she explained. Her original "homemade biscuits" sign holds pride of place in her kitchen today.

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Best time to go Any time of year is good. The menus are driven by the seasons.

What I learned Roasted grapes are a terrific way to elevate a salad. This summer, they’ll be on my cheese boards, too, as well as in a bowl of vanilla ice cream or breakfast yogurt. Simply toss (washed) grapes with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper, then roast on a parchment-lined sheet pan at 425° F about 15 minutes, or until wilted and skins are caramelized.

Genius hack Paella’s signature seasoning is saffron, which can be difficult to find and is expensive to boot. (It’s highly labor-intensive to harvest and process.) If you don’t have any, don’t let that stop you; substitute Sazón Goya, a dried seasoning available at supermarkets and Latin groceries. Among its ingredients is Mexican saffron (azafrán). These dried petals of the safflower plant aren’t true saffron (derived from the saffron crocus) but still impart a nuanced floral aroma.

Working around Croteau’s island, everyone had specific tasks, from pouring a bottle of pinot noir into a pitcher for sangria to preparing a cucumber starter and spreading out molten chocolate almond bark on a parchment-lined baking sheet. It was a cool, breezy May day, and the bark would harden on the screened-in porch in time for dessert.

Croteau, who exudes calm and coastal chic, set an easy pace while covering a wealth of tips and techniques. "I like pinot for sangria but use rosé or white if that’s what you have. No rum? Add vodka instead." Some Triple Sec, fruit juice, a pinch of cinnamon, and the task was done. As far as the fruit went, grapefruit, peaches, limes, lemons, oranges and apples were chopped small by longtime student and friend (since the ninth grade) Joan Bernat.

It was a bit early for sangria, so we turned our attention to a platter of Kirby cucumbers (about the size of the small, flavorful cukes common in Spain) that had been cut into spears and covered with icy to make them even crisper. They were tossed with a simple dressing given intrigue by lime and a drizzle of honey. Croteau passed around the salt cellar and measuring spoons. "Put a half teaspoon of salt in your hand and look at it," she said. "Really look at it. Now, I don’t want you to measure anymore! When baking, yes, but not for something like this." Carol Chilton Miller piped up. "It’s a next-level crudité," she said, and Croteau concurred. "I serve these with breadsticks, olives and nuts," she added. "It’s all you need."

Threads of saffron are dissolved in rum before being added to paella. Credit: Linda Rosier

The paella, which included onion, tomatoes, and variously colored bell peppers was next. Croteau ditched the blue scarf that matched her eyes and delivered an authoritative yet unintimidating homily on knives ("I recommend any knife you feel comfortable with") and how to chop onions and bell peppers ("be up close when cutting; gripping with your pointer finger and thumb on the back of the blade unlocks the wrist"). She prefers a yellow onion for paella, but, again, use what you have, even scallions or shallots. Soon the aromatic foundation (onion, garlic, oregano, smoked paprika) for paella was working in a large, red-handled paella pan. "This is gonna smell good," whispered Debbie Gilmartin. She lives in Rocky Point and summers in a camper in Greenport, and she re-creates Croteau’s menus wherever she may be. "I took classes all winter long," she said. "I did a class menu for friends. We all cooked! It was so much fun." Spanish short-grain bomba rice (which can absorb plenty of stock without becoming mushy), saffron and other seasonings and some vegetable stock were added to the paella, and after 10 minutes or so, we all began to see and understand the transformative power of the dish.

Meanwhile, the sangria flowed, and we toasted Miller’s birthday. Croteau sliced heads of romaine into thin ribbons for a salad and fielded questions. "So, how do you get enough richness in a vegetable paella?" someone wondered. "You want to use enough olive oil," she said, "and the garlic should be intense," which is why she recommends a garlic press for paella instead of a knife. She uses a good vegetable stock, which she makes from Better Than Bouillon organic vegetable seasoning base. If you can’t imagine paella without seafood, no worries — toss in some shrimp during the last five minutes of cooking. Although Croteau has been a vegetarian "forever," she’s not averse to using meat as an accent.

A head of romaine, roasted grapes, garlic and peppers at the ready at Boisseaux Cooking School. Credit: Linda Rosier

I was especially struck by a half-sheet pan of roasted garlic cloves, a small bunch of grapes and a handful of "lunchbox" peppers. The garlic went into the salad dressing and the grapes, with their caramelized skins and concentrated, lingering finish, were tossed with the salad. The peppers, added to the paella at the last minute along with peas and blanched green beans, provided additional color and texture.

Soon folks had plates of salad and paella in hand and were talking about recipes, entertaining and what else we were doing with the rest of the day. "This class is like a vacation," said Gilmartin. "I can’t wait to make this at home." And that sums up the overall tone here. You’re exposed to new skills and rustic recipes that can be easily replicated — but you’ll also experience a little slice of the good life, North Fork style. And yes, you can take it with you.

Boisseaux Cooking School, 3150 Boisseau Ave., Southold, 917-414-5270, boisseaux.com. Classes offered 10:30 a.m.-noon Saturdays and Sundays, $85 a person. Reservations required.

 
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