David Lebovitz

If you're thinking that you've been 'set up' by the previous post for Chocolate Sherbet, je suis coupable. (I am guilty.) You likely know Adam Ried as the man who obsessively tests equipment and recipes on American's Test Kitchen. He was also an editor at Cook's Illustrated for ten years. So when I saw his new book devoted to milkshakes, because I always have a freezer full of ice creams, sherbets, and sorbets, I was delighted to have a fool-proof collection of well-tested recipes—and my blender has been begging for mercy ever since.

So get out those blenders, and welcome Adam Ried!... dl

Shake de l'Opéra

"Opera."

Quick..... what leapt to your mind when you read that word? For the culture vultures among us, maybe it was Monteverdi. Or Mozart. Or Wagner.

For me, it would be chocolate (which, admittedly, often comes to mind no matter what words I'm reading), followed immediately by coffee, and then almond.

This winning flavor trifecta defines gâteau de l'Opéra, an ever-present stalwart of pâtisseries from one end of Paris to the other. Most gâteaux de l'Opéra hew pretty close to this alluring formula: thin layers of almond cake, soaked in coffee syrup, alternated with layers of coffee buttercream and chocolate ganache, all hidden under a cloak of glistening chocolate glaze.

For those of you wondering what the difference between 'sorbet' and 'sherbet' is, a sorbet has no dairy or eggs in it, and sherbet is usually made with milk or egg whites. Of course, there's those rogues out there adding a bit of cream or whatever, but that's the story on that and any variations aren't authorized by me. And as you know, the ice cream (and sherbet) buck stops here.

(I can just hear all the fingers Googling madly out there, looking for examples to prove me wrong...Talk about setting myself up!)

This Chocolate Sherbet has, you guessed it...a bit of milk added.

Over the years, a number of people have asked if it was possible to bring a KitchenAid mixer from the United States to Europe, and use it here. I certainly couldn't live without my 5-quart mixer, and since they're less-expensive in America than they are abroad (because of the electrical modifications and shipping), many folks, naturally, want to know if they can bring their mixer with them.

Several readers kindly chimed in with comments and suggestions (thanks, Sunny!), noting that theirs worked fine with a voltage transformer.

La Cocotte Booksigning and Get-Together

This Saturday, June 27th, from 4pm to 5:30pm, I'll be signing books and meeting folks at La Cocotte bookshop in Paris, located at 5, rue Paul Bert. (Métro: Faidherbe-Chaligny)

There's going to be wine, women (and men), and if you get there early enough, Dulce de Leche Brownies for all.

When I heard there was going to be an inaugural voyage for the recently refubished Club Med 2 sailboat, I was so excited to go, that I actually invited myself to come along. Since the trip was a press preview, with a sprinkling of the rich and perhaps famous to rub elbows with, and since I lived so close, I saw no reason why I shouldn't be able to easily race down to catch some sunshine, and participate in the buzz—cruising past St. Tropez, Cannes, Nice, and Portofino.

So after spending a few days on land in Provence, I was ready to set sail and meet my travel mates. Having not gone on many press trips, I wasn't sure what to expect and happily, our rag-tag group was from all over the map: Japan, the United States, Switzerland, Canada, Australia, Italy, and, of course, France. We boarded boat and set sail eastward.

I'd been on one boat before, a medium-sized cruise liner, and was less-than-impressed with that one. It was freezing cold from the boat being severely overly air-conditioned, so I was wearing sweaters indoors, while sunny Mexico was right outside. Not only was it cold physically, it was also uninspiring and I felt like I was on a floating hotel, it was so big and impersonal.

But this was a small vessel, a 5-masted sailboat, with less than two hundred rooms and sure enough, it was just the right size and pace for cruising the Côte d'Azur.

This always happens. You go away, then come back, and something hits you like a ton of bricks. This morning, after being away for a little more than a week, Romain looked at me, and said, "Daveed...je veux te dire quelque chose..." And before he could finish la phrase, I knew exactly what he was going to say, and I finished the sentence for him.

He was stunned that I knew what he was about to say, before he even told me. But I could tell by the look on his face exactly what was wrong: the boulangerie that makes My Crack Baguette is closing for good—Fermeture Définitive.

I've been trying to organize a manifestation (demonstration) to keep the doors, and ovens, open. But I'm not having much success. Which is kind of odd in a country of people that seem all-too happy to go en grêve, but I forgot that the all-important summer vacation season is beginning, which takes precedence over everything else.

So far I've enlisted me, Romain, and his neighbor, the one who buys three at a time.

Just announced—an all-new tour this fall! For one delicious week we'll be feasting and tasting the best of France.

From extraordinary chocolate shops, to magnificent fromageries and bustling bouchons, this one-week adventure will be unforgettable! The itinerary is different than my Paris Chocolate Tours, so those of you who've traveled with me before, if you're interested in coming along, we'd love to have you.

For this trip, we'll be focusing on some of the other tasty aspects of Paris, including...

...visiting the best candy and pastry kitchens, and watch them dipping chocolates, piping macarons, and swirling sugar into edible confections.

When people come to Paris, they often ask me where they can find good bouillabaisse. And when I tell them, "You can't", they're always very surprised.

"Well, isn't it French?" they'll reply.

Yes, it is. But to get many of the regional specialties in France, you need to go to the region. Hence my frequent visits to Nice, to get socca at the fiery source.

And although you can make it at home, making it in a home oven is like baking off a batch of S'Mores in there: it's close, but not exactly the real thing. You really do need a wood-fire to get that blistered crust. Still, after much experimentation, I got it close in my home oven and I now make it all the time to serve with an apéritif before dinner.

Socca is basically street food, intended to be eaten off napkins to blot up all the excess olive oil, with plastic cups of frosty-cool rosé.