Now that you’ve all seen everything I have in my kitchen, I thought I’d show you a place I just discovered this week not far from where all that pastry magic happens.
(And I’m sure a few of you remember where all the magic that doesn’t happen around here ends up.)
Someone chided me for having French Wine For Dummies on my bookshelf, but gave me a pass for having Rocco’s book. Hey, it was a gift from him.
What was I going to say?—No?
Who doesn’t like bacon and eggs?
Ok, maybe vegans. And folks who are kosher. And people who don’t eat eggs. Or those who don’t like bacon. But I’m not sure that’s possible. (I have a great bacon joke, but it’s not ‘pc’, so I’d better keep it to myself.)
I’m a big fan of both bacon and the beautiful, bright-orange yolked eggs we get in France, so why confine them to breakfast? I was pretty sure Candied Bacon Ice Cream would work. I mean, it’s got salt. It’s got smoke. So why not candy it? Inspired by Michael Ruhlman, l wanted to see what would happened when they all got together.
Candying the bacon was a hoot. Being in an experimental mood, I tried everything from agave nectar to maple syrup to dark raw cassonade sugar.
I don’t get it. Why are these called wine gums?
According to Wikipedia, it’s because the flavors are “similar to the experience of savoring a fine wine”.
You know, I like gummy candies. A lot. And I like wine too. But I see zero connection between the two. Zilch. I bought these a while back in London, intrigued by the little words on each one: port, claret, chablis, rioja, and gin…with apologies to my British friends, I don’t think qualifies as wine.
And what is ‘hook’?
So there I was, this afternoon, scavenging for something sweet and finally ripped open the bag. After picking through and tossing the black (licorice…ick!) and green ones (medicinal…ick!), I did a little searching and found they have quite a cult following. But to me, they don’t compare to the world’s great gummy candies—Chuckles, orange slices, Boston Fruit Slices—or my favorite filling-yankers; Jujubes.
(Ok, and can’t forget Dots, which I used to hold up in front of the screen at the movies before I ate it to make sure I didn’t eat a green one.)
Seriously, what is up with these little fellas?
If it seems to you like I’ve stopped hanging out the chocolate shops of Paris and now spend my days in Korean épiceries, stocking up on gochujang, cochutgaru, and gokchu garu, you’re right. The odd thing is that the Koreans understand me better than the French. They’re always surprised when I speak a few words of Korean and last week, I met some wonderful Korean gals that were pretty shocked to see me filling my basket with chile peppers, fermented shrimp, and garlic-chili paste.
Since the state of recipes—like my French—are always in a state of flux, after my first batch of cabbage kimchi (which came out pretty darn good), I kept thinking of ways to improve it. That, coupled with a newfound addiction to fried rice with kimchi, meant I was going through it at an alarming rate. Plus in my first batch, the color wasn’t as brilliant as I liked—although it made a pretty good bowl of kimchi soondobu jjigae…if I do say so myself.
So I headed over to Ace Mart, loaded up my (reusable) shopping bag, and armed with The World’s Most Expensive Scallions (3.8€, or $5.50 a bunch), I set out to make the penultimate batch of kimchi.
I also bought some very, very thinly-sliced, threadlike dried red peppers since they were too beautiful to pass up.
Registration is now open for my upcoming classes at Central Market in Texas next month and some of the classes are almost full.
These are my only US dates this spring (unless someone has a spare ticket for a sidetrip to Hawaii) so come join me for a fun-filled class where I’ll be teaching Parisian Chocolate Desserts.
You can check out the menu and register here.
I’ll also be at the Lake Austin Spa as part of their Culinary Experience on April 15th as well.
Come hang at the spa with me, too!
I can’t remember the last time I saw a real, live squirrel.
Yes, yes, I know. I live a city. But when I go out into the French countryside I just don’t see them there either. I never realized how much I missed the little rascals until I was back for a visit to the states and there were hoards of squirrels going about their business everywhere, from the wilds of Central Park to the streets of San Francisco.
French people when they go to the states, on the other hand, don’t miss squirrels. They miss bread.
Fresh bread is a given, an integral part of life in France and lining up daily at your local boulangerie is just another task one does during the course of your day. For me though, it’s a little more complicated. I’m no longer content to get the bread from the bakery just across the street from me and I’ll spend half a day hunting down grainy breads near and far, a type of bread I’m hopelessly partial to.
Whether you’re coming here to live, or even on vacation, there’s plenty of classes for everyone from débutants to those looking to master the elusive French verbs.
While I don’t personally make any recommendations, you can visit their sites to check for class times, size, and prices. Some schools do offer housing for longer programs and you can even get student visas if you sign up for longer sessions, helpful if you’d like to stay in Paris for a while.
Another plus about enrolling in a school is with your student ID, you can get discounts in museums and at the movies. Plus many gyms and sporting facilities give substantial student discounts and there’s student travel deals to be had as well.
A few tips:
Recent Comments