March 2007 archives

Just a note that there’s just one space left on my upcoming Paris Chocolate Exploration Tour with chocolate-expert, author Mort Rosenblum.

Included in this week-long adventure is a demonstration at the exclusive laboratoire of chocolatier Jacques Genin, a private chocolate tasting at La Maison du Chocolat, a shopping tour of one of the best outdoor markets in Paris, and in-depth visits to the most spectacular chocolate shops in the world.

We’ll wine-and-dine on Mort’s boat floating on the Siene, in a private wine cellar, and under the arches of the spectacular Place des Vosges. And one special day we’ll head to the countryside of Normandy to visit cookbook author Susan Loomis at her charming home On Rue Tatin to taste authentic French country cooking.

Come join us!

For more information or to register, click here.

Do you want to know…

The reason I’ll never have my own television program…
(page 109)

What a barely-there string bikini, high heels and world peace have in common with mango sorbet…
(page 108)

Why you might find me, nearly-naked, standing on your sidewalk someday…
(page 141)

The final installment of the trilogy, concluding my lifetime of disappointment…
(page 88)

Why I fear the ‘apple autocrat’…
(page 110)

What were the sordid fruits of my first online rendez-vous…
(page 186)

Why I’m not (too much) of an annoying food snob…
(page 136)

What made Adam play his amateur card (and what made his mom say “Oy!“)…
(page 73)

How I got my comeuppance for insulting the mysterious Lemon-Lady…
(page 152)

Continue Reading The Perfect Scoop…

Maybe this happens to you. Maybe it doesn’t.

You’re invited to a party and as a nice gesture, you bring something along. Being a baker you decide, naturally, to bake something.

So you get to the party, you’re wining and dining, loosening up and enjoying yourself. But when people find out you’ve brought a dessert, they all of the sudden get very interested in you, and what you’ve brought, what’s it called, how you’ve made it, what’s in it, what’s the recipe, etc..etc…

The most difficult was when I brought a Bûche de Noël to a Christmas party, which is a fairly complicated affair involving spongecake, chocolate buttercream, soaking syrup, and lots of crackly meringue mushrooms for decoration. Some nutty woman followed me around all night with a pen and note pad, prodding me for recipe details and I spent the whole night trying to avoid her.

But let’s say you’ve been working on recipes all day, or adding recipes to your blog. So you go to a party and maybe you’d rather just not talk about what you’ve made: After all, don’t they know you have a food blog and a couple of cookbooks where they can get all that information?

(And no, I don’t have a recipe for Bûche de Noël. But thanks for asking…)

So my technique for throwing ‘em off the scent is to make up names for things I’ve baked that mean nothing, something innocuous that no one can possibly question what’s inside it. I’ve brought to parties Chocolate Surprise Cake, Mystery Spice Cake and Baked Summertime Fruit Dessert. But you need to be careful since if you pick the wrong name, something like Chocolate Emergency Cake, you’ll have to explain the story behind the moniker ‘emergency’.
And we can’t have that, can we?

Then there’s Friendship Bars, which is the name I often give these Fruitcake Bars.

Continue Reading Fruitcake Bar Recipe (Friendship Bars)…

Spring in Paris is truly a glorious time.

Even though this winter was relatively mild, it’s nice to peel off the wool scarves and mittens that we’ve all been bundling ourselves up in to ward off the damp, chilly air and start packing them away.

Deep-scarlet strawberries start appearing at the market and cafés waiters across the city slide extra seats outside as all of Paris starts to stir from its winter hibernation.

Unfortunately, that includes the pigeons too.

Those wicked beasts that coo outside our windows, who wake us up at the crack of down with their incessant warbling on windowsills and ledges everywhere. They soil and permanently damage all of the magnificent churches and monuments of Paris. And like the rest of the city, I suppose, they’re celebrating spring by enjoying more time outdoors socializing with their friends.

But unlike (most) civilized Parisians, they don’t care where they let loose.

During this week and the next few, they’re poised high up in the trees, causing much fear of being the recipient of their crotté droppings. (And whatever they’re eating doesn’t seem to be agreeing with them.) It seems to be pretty well-known amongst the locals to avoid standing under trees at all costs, but I’ve seen plenty of unsuspecting tourists and a few newcomers get nailed by those feathered foul lurking above.

Consider yourself warned.

And sorry about the icky picture. But if I have to see it, then so do you.)

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8 Coping Tips for Living in Paris

Since it’s the end of the week, or depending on when you’re reading this, it’s the beginning of the week, I thought I’d finish up with some of my last images and thoughts from my time hosted by Illy coffee in Trieste.

Without a doubt the most popular person in Trieste is the barista at Illy’s coffee bar for the employees. From the moment we arrived first thing in the morning to the time we left at the end of the afternoon (with several visits in between), this woman was pumping out espressos (espressi) for the entire staff. For those who worked in the roasting plant, there were machines down there, as well as on each floor of the office building too.

She worked with grace under pressure, and without a tip jar, as swarms of people would come in and line up at the bar, order a quick shot, then head back to work with a quick ciao before departing. As you might imagine, after lunch is particularly busy and although the counter was stacked with used cups and saucers, she calmly worked through the rush. She is a true craftsperson and barista and my dream is to work alongside her one day, although I don’t think I could possibly keep up. Mama mia, does this woman work hard!

I loved the displays of vintage Illy memorabilia they had everywhere. Since I have a soft spot for anything from the 1950′s-70′s, these cans in particular caught my eye. With an obvious nod to Peter Max, I suggested they re-issue coffee in these cans, as well as some of the older ones. I think they’d be pretty popular today, don’t you think? I know I’d want one.

Unfortunately they didn’t take my not-so-subtle hints.

Continue Reading Ciao, Illy…

Several restaurants in America recently decided they’re going to stop serving bottled water for ecological reasons, in spite of fact that sales of pricey bottled water are perhaps a significant source of revenue, which helps them stay in business.

Some argue that water should be free of charge and shouldn’t be ‘commoditized’ while there’s an opposing arguement that water is a precious resource and is often wasted because the price we pay is too low and doesn’t reflect the actual cost.

In Italy, carafes of still or sparkling water are commonly offered to diners gratis. However it’s standard practice to often add a coperto (cover charge) to the restaurant check, around 1€-2€, presumably to cover the cost of extras, like water and bread.

(The city of Paris started a campaign trying to wean Parisians off bottled water, offering fancy carafes as incentive. I don’t think the carafes have been quite the grand success since I’ve never seen one in use—although sales of bottled water in France are indeed dropping.)

Trieste is located in the upper corner of Italy, located just at the border of Slovenia. It’s a compact port city and in addition to Slovenian influences, you might be surprised to come across a shop carrying beer steins, since there are residual Hungarian and Austrian influences in the melange as well. But unlike other Italian cities, you’ll find people drinking big glasses of beer, and dining on sauerkraut and dumplings…and I mean, big, hearty ones…not just gnocchi, although you’ll find those too. Which I certainly did.

Along with perhaps a little gelato here and there…

Since my time was limited, I wasn’t able to explore the areas far out of town, which I’ve been told were where the best food was to be found. The restaurants in the city were a bit uninspiring, although the bars filled up in the early evenings and were great places to have a Gingerino or my favorite aperitivo; an oversized wine glass (God bless the Italians…) with a shot of bitter orange aperitif, chilled prosecco, and a chunk of blood orange served with a handful of ice. I couldn’t catch the name, but it sure tasted good with all the food the Italians pile up at the bars nightly to snack on. The first time I saw an enormous spread of food on a bar a few years back in Italy, free for the taking, I expressed my surprise to an Italian friend, who replied, “Well, it’s so much nicer to have a little something to eat with your drink…don’t you think?”

Why yes, since you asked.

Although I know it’s not a trend that’s going to cross the border into France. But it’s a national custom I’m happy to partake of when in Italy.

After all, I don’t want to be rude. Do I?

Continue Reading Trieste Address Book…

When I told a friend that I was going to Italy to learn how to make coffee, she responded, “You just dump the coffee into a filter and pour water over it. What else do you need to do?”

Well, since you asked, plenty.

First of all, there’s an important distinction between ‘brewing coffee’ and ‘extracting espresso’.

Brewed coffee is steeping ground beans in hot water, which any fool like me can do, whereas making espresso involves a couple of crucial steps and the deft use of a high-pressured machine combined with several specific techniques. It’s not easy to make the perfect espresso, but anyone can make a pretty decent one, even using an inexpensive home machine.

And how do you know what a good espresso is?

It’s a very tiny cup of deep-brown liquid, just a couple of sips, not bitter-tasting, but rich, complex and lingering, which endures on your tastebuds for 10-15 minutes afterward—one singular, perfectly-extracted shot of true Italian espresso.

I was really anxious to visit Illy, since I’ve been having trouble getting just the right little shot to taste good at home. Mine was either too watery, or bitter and virtually undrinkable, even though I was using a very powerful espresso maker. But I was also curious why the espresso in Italy tastes so much better than it does anywhere else, even in the humblest caffè. So when Illy invited me to come to their roasting plant and Università del Caffè in Trieste, I cleared my calendar and jumped on a plane.

So what did I learn at Illy?
I learned that anyone, even me, can pull a great cup of espresso at home.
Here’s the 1, 2 and 3′s of it…

1. Start with good coffee.

This seems like a no-brainer. But I have a friend who said his vinaigrettes never tasted as good as he’d like them to. When I pointed out that you can’t make a good salad dressing with crappy olive oil from Trader Joe’s, neither can you make a good cup of espresso unless you start with good coffee beans correctly roasted and packed.

Continue Reading Making Perfect Espresso at Illy…