February 2009 archives

A lot of people love to travel. I am not one of them.

Sure I love wandering through exotic markets, exploring restaurants in new cities, and sitting under an umbrella on the beach. But the hard part for me to deal with is getting there. I know that travel used to be romantic and fun, but it’s not anymore. And people like the whiny woman sitting across the aisle from me who just couldn’t believe that her enormous suitcase won’t fit in the overhead bin just above her seat and was refusing to put it elsewhere, doesn’t add to the allure.

The main thing I don’t like about travel is this: I don’t like being uncomfortable. I don’t like being trapped in a plane, unable to move (even when seated), I never sleep well unless I’m in my own bed, and call me crazy, but I like the option of going to the bathroom when I need to go to the bathroom. I’d make a horrible prisoner. And after fifteen minutes trapped in my seat, one can only read about electric butter slicers, portable water washers, and the latest in nose-hair removal technology so many times in the Sky Mall catalog.

Continue Reading French Train Mix…

We’re packin’ up our Euro-skivvies and hitting the beach! I’m heading off on a much-needed vacation, a sunny escape from the mid-winter morosité. I’ll be checking in here from temps en temps and perhaps posting some photos of my fun in the sun, so don’t stray too far.

In the meanwhile, here’s a couple of things to keep you occupied…

The Times has come up with a list of the 50 of the World’s Best Food Blogs, and somewhere on that list, I’m on it.

Continue Reading Les Vacances…

I’ve hesitated about sharing this place with you, but have finally succumbed. After all, everyone has a right to find a great roast chicken place. Especially one that’s incredibly affordable. And pretty delicious.

Churrasqueira Galo is a dive, a place where there’s a always a lively cross section of residents of this transitioning quartier, including families out with the kids, drag queens, Portuguese soccer players, and assorted dubious characters (like me) looking for a good, inexpensive meal.

And beware of going during the full-blast heat of the summer: last year we had to leave mid-meal because it was so stifling hot. When I asked the sweating owner, who was manning the fiery rôtisserie, why they didn’t get a fan, he told me: “They’re so expensive! A fan cost the same as a day’s earnings in Portugal.”

I didn’t want to point out that A) We’re not in Portugal, we’re in Paris, and B) A cheap fan costs about €20. No one asked me, but I think twenty euros is a pretty good investment if your customers are leaving.

Continue Reading Churrasqueira Galo: Roast Chicken in Paris…

I’ve been a tad remiss in doing a write-up about one of the newest American chocolate-makers: Askinosie. When I heard about them, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on some bars of their bars. The only problem was that I wolfed them down too-quickly, before I could even write ‘em up.

Then I’d heard in the news (the chocolate news, which I read rabidly…is there any kind of news?) that they’ve been making a white chocolate bar that’s made from non-deodorized cocoa butter and goat’s milk, instead of the traditional cows milk. As someone who likes white chocolate, and enjoys the tang of goat milk, this sounds like heaven to me.

In my 89 Random Things About Me, #3 was that I thought small-batch chocolate makers summed up all of the best qualities of America, most notably the eagerness to do something different and improve something, making it even better than before.

Continue Reading Askinosie Chocolate…

When I moved to France from San Francisco, I worried about what every San Franciscan worries about— “What am I going to do without burritos?”

For those who aren’t familiar with San Francisco-style burritos, these bullet-shaped tummy-torpedoes are rice, beans, salsa, and meat all rolled up in a giant flour tortilla and eaten steaming hot. I don’t want to antagonize the burrito folks, but being a purist, I never, ever get cheese, sour cream, guacamole, or the worst offender—lettuce, all of which make a burrito about as appealing as a rolled-up newspaper left out for a week in the rain.

Continue Reading Le Dimanche…

When you make desserts in a restaurant, the most important thing you can do is to smell anything made of plastic before you put anything in it. I remember someone made a big batch of crème anglaise one morning…and that evening, when I went to serve it, I opened the lid and the overpowering smell of garlic blasted forth, rendering the whole batch useless.

A few years Iater I worked as a pastry chef at a southeast Asian restaurant, which was great: I never had to sniff anything since I was using the same ingredients—ginger, chiles, galengal, and spices—as the regular cooks.

I’ve raved and raved about Pierre Hermé’s macarons, and once ranted about one.

Continue Reading Pierre Hermé’s Ketchup Macarons (Ketchup Cookies)…

Everyone should gave a great recipe for Vanilla Ice Cream in their repertoire. Here’s my favorite, which you can serve with anything, from a freshly-baked fruit pie, a warm berry crisp, or simply smothered with dark chocolate sauce or caramel sauce and toasted nuts.

It’s said that vanilla is the most popular flavor of ice cream. But most people don’t know that vanilla is also the most labor-intensive of all crops. Because of that, vanilla beans and pure extract are costly. Thankfully, a little vanilla goes a long way. I use both a bean and vanilla extract in my ice cream since I find they’re slightly different flavors and each compliments the other.

Continue Reading Vanilla Ice Cream Recipe…

When I was in the states last year, I was in a coffee shop and for some reason, the conversation with the folks turned to what I was doing in their city. I’m not sure how they knew I wasn’t from around there, but I can only assume it was my startlingly-good French accent, which is always a sure give-away. I mentioned I was a cook and was taping a television segment.

Right then, stopping the conversation, the woman who owned the shop asked me, “Are you the David Lieberman?”

Okay, before you get your panties in a knot, in my defense, I’ve had my name butchered to death on more than on occasion and we both cook and write cookbooks.

So I said, “Yes, that’s me. Nice to meet you.”

The next day when I stopped in again for my coffee, the same woman ran up to me, excitedly, “Oooh David, my friends were so excited that I met David Lieberman!” While I was thrilled to have someone happy to meet me, I’d never had someone that excited.

Continue Reading Dave L’s Braised Short Ribs Recipe…