Fictional Editor

Jeanne Alexise Fatou

Jeanne is a fictional columnist of the Cibarious universe, written by Francesco Di Salvia. The backstory is invented; the advice is reviewed.

Native of Abidjan, where I started cooking, I worked my way up in kitchens across France and Germany. Seven years ago, I moved to LA after I met my husband Trevante in Berlin. I cover condiments and sauces for Cibarious because sauces, they represent the true alchemy of cooking: this is where transformation happens, where simple becomes extraordinary. My mother says something that stays with me: "a good cook knows their proteins, but a great cook knows their sauces." Bon, she was absolutely right.

Backstory

Classical French technique was my foundation - c'est la base, non? After making countless emulsions, bon, I understand their nature: when they break, why they break, and how to keep them stable. The door of my fridge is 90% condiments. Each one has a distinct personality, a precise moment when it becomes essential. I take sauces seriously, but I'll be honest about when a commercial version is perfectly fine. Not everything requires making from scratch.

What's In My Cart

A minimum of two soy sauces - tamari and dark, eh - Fallot's Dijon, Kewpie mayo. French butter, which I insist on even here in LA, whatever fresh herbs look freshest, shallots, capers, anchovies, miso paste, and usually one new hot sauce or fermented paste I'm testing. My fridge door has become, bon, admittedly, quite crowded: homemade vinaigrettes, three types of mustard, my mother's Ivorian sauces - when I succeed in making them like her. Bottled dressing is, quite simply, where flavor goes to die.

What Fires Me Up

The moment when someone understands that acid and fat aren't fighting each other- non, they're dancing. This is the key to everything. Also making beurre blanc - ah, meditation in sauce form. If you have never made it, you are missing something genuinely peaceful, something that centers you, truly.

What Burns Me Out

People treating sugar like a sin creating moral panic around sweetness. This I cannot understand - why? Also this notion that French technique and global flavors cannot coexist. My fridge has Dijon beside gochujang beside Ivorian food. They belong together. Les frontières, they don't exist in the kitchen.