December 2006 Archives

Although it's possible to buy citrons confits at Arab markets here in Paris, making Moroccan Preserved Lemons couldn't be easier and they taste far fresher than anything you can buy. I insist on foraging through the mounds of lemons at my market in pursuit of the smallest citrus possible (which I don't recommend doing here, by the way, unless you know the vendor pretty well.)

But you may be lucky to have a friend with a lemon tree and they're probably more than happy to let you take a few off their hands... although none of my friends in Paris seem to have lemon trees growing in their apartments, unfortunately. And if you live where Improved Meyer Lemons are available, by all means feel free to use them instead of the more common Eureka lemons.

I like to finely dice preserved lemons and mix them with sautéed vegetables, such as green beans, fava beans, or to elevate lowly rounds of carrots into something interesting and exotic, perhaps tossing in a few cumin seeds as well. They're also good mashed into butter with some fresh herbs, then smeared on top of grilled fish or a nice hunk of caramelized roasted winter squash. And I've been known to sneak some into a batch of tapenade, as well as adding some finely-chopped little pieces to a batch of lemon ice cream too!

In addition to their ability to multi-task, there's something comfortable and nice about having a jar of vivid lemons on the kitchen counter to keep tabs on their progess every morning, like a flowering Amaryllis bulb or a family of Sea Monkeys coming to life. I'm keeping a vigilant eye on my lemons daily, noticing how much juice they're giving off, how soft they're getting, and enjoying how they gently deflate and nestle themselves against each other as they settle nicely into the corners of my vintage glass canning jar (which I barely rescued from the clutches of some madame at a flea market last summer.)

One of my friends from San Francisco sent me the local paper the other day, which was dated just before the last election.

In my district, there was an election for Supervisor, the person who would represent my district in City Hall.

This year there were three candidates vying for that position.
Each was profiled and interviewed:

The first was Bevan Dufty, the current Supervisor, who describes himself as "addressing neighborhood concerns and successfully shepherding projects" that were helpful to the neighborhood, including renovating the local library and upgrading accessibility on the city-wide transit system.

The second candidate was Alix Rosenthal, who was the President of the San Francisco Elections Commission and vowed to vigilantly fight the problems plaguing the city at their root cause, including protecting neighborhood schools from closure and pledging to work tirelessly for inclusionary housing.

The third candidate described his qualifications for public service as "bisexual and vegetarian." His current occupations are "escort, masseur, and exotic dancer" and he vows to repeal leash-laws and deter violent crime by "letting people carry handguns for self-defense."
An effective Supervisor he said, should "throw fun, free office parties" as well as dress in drag occasionally, and "take the right kinds of drugs."

His name is Starchild.

I wonder who won?

If you feel the need to work off that croissant au beurre you're likely to indulge in every morning, or the daily éclair au chocolat or financier you've been treating yourself to each afternoon, for visitors to Paris that practice yoga, there's plenty of places scattered about the city with classes all day long so you can downward-dog all that buttery richness away.

You'll find most of the yoga studios in Paris tucked away in old courtyards while others are sleek and modern. In my experience, you're less-likely to find a 'power yoga'-style class which feels like a heavy-duty workout in Paris as you'll find in many US cities, but it probably best not to overexert yourself too much...after all, you're on vacation!

Most yoga classes in Paris are Vinyasa or Ashtanga-style, with lots of variations. Here's a list of a several studios that are centrally located, with some notes about their classes and styles. Most studios require regular students to pay a cotisation annuelle, an annual fee, although they waive it for short-term visitors. Please note that class prices are the current rates, and you should check the individual studios web sites for updates. If you like to have water handy, it's best to bring a small bottle along with you.

Most yoga studios in Paris don't offer showers and although classes are in French, most teachers speak a bit of English and if you regularly practice yoga you shouldn't have a problem following along. Expect to pay more than you would for an individual class in the US, although most places offers series of multiple classes, which is worthwhile if you plan to be in town for a while. Mats are available, but changing rooms in most of the places are non-existent, so be prepare to 'see-and-be-seen' (and believe me, I've seen everything)—so don't be shy!

Since the year is just about over, I thought I'd better conclude my thoughts and shares my notes on the now-infamous No-Knead Bread that swept around the world with such force and bravado that I starting calling it 'The Nail In The Lo-Carb Coffin'.

Although I don't really keep up on the various diets du jour, when the No-Knead Bread starting flaring up on blogs and web sites worldwide, it seemed that once again another fad diet had delightfully gone bust. And I didn't want the year to end without letting you know how my final loaf actually turned out...

So for the past few weeks, everyone out there seemed to be having the time of there life stirring up batches of carb-rich, yeasty dough, and baking the soft mounds to crunchy perfection in their brand-new Le Creuset pans. While I'll admit there's nothing like the thrill of pulling a puffy loaf from the blistering-hot oven and tipping the loaf onto a cooling rack, or the thrill of buying a new piece of Le Creuset, I discovered the bread has one fatal flaw:

It tastes like nothing.

In fact, it was so flavorless that I could barely eat it.
To get to the point where I had an edible-looking loaf, though, I'd spent weeks roaming through Parisian health food stores learning about French flours, quizzing experts and friends, making metric conversions, and immersing myself in all the interesting, and mostly kind comments that many of you left at my original post. I stirred & scraped, slapped & tapped, and dusted & draped, all in an effort to pull the best, tastiest, most bakery-perfect looking loaf of bread I'd ever imagined proudly out of my humble little home oven.

That's what I had anticipated.

I was an incredibly fortunate young man when I was starting our as a cook way back in the early 80's.
At that time, there were few celebrity chefs, there were no television networks entirely devoted to cooking. And the glossy food magazines had articles by people like Richard Olney and Paula Wolfert, instead of following Bobby Flay around Manhattan looking for babes and BBQ.

Our culinary heroes back them were people who actually wrote their own books and cooked because it was their passion. Working at Chez Panisse, I was extremely fortunate to meet a lot of those people in person, including Jane Grigson, MFK Fisher, Maida Heatter, Julie Child, James Beard, and the aforementioned Richard Olney. Most of them are now gone, but there's one person who is the last of the great, classic American cooks around: Marion Cunningham.

Our first interaction was when she came barreling in from the dining room, racing through the kitchen of Chez Panisse with her grey ponytail bobbing behind her, looking for the person who'd make ..."that divine Butterscotch Ice Cream." Fortunately that person was me, and for the next 15 years or so, I could reasonably be accused of bribing Marion whenever she came in with anything involving caramelized sugar; from salty Caramel Ice Cream (we both like it far before it was fashionable), to classic American Lemon Meringue Pie with an extra-deeply broiled topping I'd make just for her.

She loved them all.

But Marion was not a sugary-sweet person, in spite of her deep love for the stuff.

There's a style of writing, called "The Confessional", where the writer talks about their personal life, often in great detail. Sometimes the stories may include spouses or partners. Other times, there might be scenes of intimate family gatherings. Or in extreme instances, they could involve, say, drunken French sailors. And on a less-titillating note, cats for some reason frequently show up as well.

I don't write like that for several reasons: a) Because I don't have a cat, b) Because my apartment is too small for anything very exciting to happen, and c) I'm a good boy.

(That is, unless you count that weekend when I first moved here and a friend shared the secret for having beaucoup de relations internationaux.)

Oh-la-la! C'est magnifiq...

Oops. Sorry. I digress...

So I'm ready to admit who I'm sharing my apartment with right now. I thought the time was right to let you all in on it, since it's gotten to the point where I can no longer contain myself.

I've had this big, hairy hunk lying around my apartment for the past few weeks, and let me tell you, this is the best piece of meat I've ever had around here.

Jamón Ibérico is the most delicious ham in the world, cured from black-footed pigs which forage around the forests in Spain, snorting up wild acorns, which gives the meat has a distinctly nutty, earthy, yet robust flavor. The ham needs to be hand sliced, and ultra-thin, s'il vous plait, which is rather difficult since the meat is moist and for some reason (which I don't remember from high-school biology) the pig leg has a bunch of wavy bones and joints that curve in more directions than a French driver does navigating around the Arc de Triomphe.

Gale Gand is a terrific baker and her latest book, Chocolate & Vanilla, is a double-sided treat of a cookbook that'll have you flipping the book over-and-over almost as much as you'll flip over the chocolate and vanilla desserts inside!

Last weekend I was invited to a birthday party, and as I flipped through the pages of her book, I was intrigued by the delicious-looking recipe for White Chocolate Sorbet, which seemed a snap to make (which held a certain attraction too, I'll admit, during this busy holiday season.)

I had a hunch this would go perfectly well with my Buckwheat Cake, which has the earthy taste of blé noir, but with a surprisingly light, delicate crumb.

Last time I checked, we were so close to the $30,000 mark, I couldn't stand it anymore, here at Menu For Hope III European-central. Frankly, the thought that there are some of you out there that haven't bid on anything was driving me nuts. So what are you waiting for? But even if you have already bid on something, let's double the amount we made last year, shall we?

Here's some of the European prizes, with some new additions...

Choice of Italian Artigianale Products or Italian Cookbooks from Ms. Adventures in Italy

The basket is full of products you can't get outside of Italy, and when Sara at Ms. Adventures in Italy added 2 more jars to the package, I just had to tell you about them! One is Salsa Tartufata Estiva, Summer Truffle Sauce from Campania, and Condimento Cime di Rapa a traditional Pugliese pasta sauce be served with orecchiette, made from turnip greens. Included is also a jar of the world-famous Bronte Pistachio Paste, which I could spoon right from the jar into my mug.
If you miss out on this one, you're a knucklehead. (Prize EU15)

Professional Logo or Header Design & Complete Blog Makeover from Lobstersquad and Bluebird Blogs

Does your blog look like crap?
Well, does it? If so, this prize is for you.

That's the new one meter box of chocolates from Patrick Roger, over three feet of pralines, caramels, nougats, and creamy-smooth ganache-filled bonbons, all enrobed in ultra-dark bittersweet chocolate.

I don't know how someone would brave getting one of those home on the métro, but I'd surely appreciate their efforts if I found one under my tree!

Patrick Roger
108, Boulevard St. Germain (6th)
Tel: 01 43 29 38 42

This is one of my 'Greatest-Hits' recipes, and in the spirit of holiday sharing, I thought it was time to share it with everyone.

I made it for a cocktail get-together the other night and my guests dove in so fast that I had to pull the bowl away just to get some for myself!

Although I confess, I ate my fair share before my guests arrived...but what's a holiday party without at least one of your guests feeling guilty about doing something they might later regret?

This is is a real "keeper"—not just because it tastes so good, but also because it's quickly made from ingredients that most of us have on hand. So it can be made at the last-minute while you race around showering, shaving, and freshening-up anything around the house that needs freshening-up for your arriving guests.

When I moved to France, I had a bit of a time finding the small twisted pretzels that I prefer in this mix, so I've made it with pretzels sticks too, which are called 'sticks d'Alsace'. But use any mix of nuts you want. Pecan halves are particularly appealing...at least to me, since those are the nuts I catch myself mostly plucking out before my guests arrive.

But whole almonds, cashews, peanuts, and hazelnuts are all very good as well in the mix.

Several of you had asked about how to avoid cookies from spreading out during baking, which can be rather vexing...especially when you've gone through all that trouble of getting the counter all covered with flour, then rolling 'em out, and cutting them into all those nifty shapes.

So here are some tips...

Did you see?

Today, we've reached the $15,000 mark and the auction's just begun! To sweeten the pot, there may be a special surprise from me I'll be adding in the future, so keep an eye on things around here...

In case you missed them, a few brand-new prizes were added to the European prize list:

One is a Country Lunch at the home of cookbook author Susan Loomis, at her home On Rue Tatin. The other is a special gift from pal Gale Gand, host of Sweet Dreams on the Food Network.

But wait, there's more!...How about a full-day gastronomic tour of Barcelona, one of the hottest culinary destinations in the world?

You can find more information just after the jump. Be sure to check some other new prizes that've been added at other auction hosts as well.

Big thanks for all of you who've donated and participated in this important auction. It's very gratifying to see such an outpouring of support for all our hard work. And speaking of hard work, I'll shortly be writing up a report here about my No-Knead mis-adventures, for those of you following my flour-driven drama.

Welcome to Menu For Hope III, an online auction to raise funds for the United Nations Food Programme, which provides hunger relief to needy people worldwide. Last year we raised over $17,000 during this auction, and this year it's bigger and even better!

The following donations are from the European food blogging community and related sites. There's over 30 great prizes, including food baskets, gastronomic tours, language and cooking classes, professional web design, wine tastings, cookbooks, and meals in private homes, restaurants, and culinary schools.

In each entry you'll find links that you can follow to the individual web sites and blogs to learn more about the prizes from the donors. Should you have any questions, please ask the donor prior to bidding.
For more information and to view the other prizes from around the world, visit Chez Pim.

So How Can You Bid?

• 1. Go to the donation page on First Giving.
  
• 2. Make a donation!
  Each $10 you donate will give you one raffle ticket toward a prize of your choice. Please specify which prize you'd like in the 'Personal Message' section in the donation form when confirming your donation. You must write-in how many tickets per prize, and please use the prize code—for example, a donation of $50 can be 2 tickets for EU01 and 3 for EU02. (Please use the double-digits, not EU1, but EU01.)
  
• 3. If your company matches your charity donation, please remember to check the box and fill in the information so we could claim the corporate match.
  
• 4. Please also check the box to allow us to see your email address so that we could contact you in case you win. Your email address will not be shared.
  
• 5. Check back at Chez Pim on January 15 when results are announced.
  

Some of the prizes, such as tours, have expiration dates. Other events are based on the donor availability; contact donor well in advance if you win a tour or tasting to make sure of their availability before you confirm travel plans.

Culinary tours don't include transit to and from the city offered, nor do they include hotels or meals, other than what is specifically mentioned.

Prizes will be shipped at the expense of the donor.

Whew!
Okay. Now that the boring stuff is out of the way, let the fun begin!...

So I've decided to jump on the bandwagon and make the No-Knead Bread.
Except French flour is different than American flour.

Dramatically.

Consequently my first batch turned into No-Knead Flatbread....

But I'm not quitting yet...

To be continued...

(Continued 12/11/06: Batch #2 came out like #1. You can see Batch #3 of No-Knead Bread here, made with lots of grains and seeds. It tasted great, but didn't rise much. Will try again with stronger flour...and more of it!)

Here's a list of 10 books, in no particular order, that I've enjoyed this year.

Since I don't have easy access to English-language books, I chose mine carefully. Although I usually like to read books about food, I got a bit literate and discovered few books about Paris that were truly enlightening...which is really saying something for someone that hasn't lifted the lid on a history book since high school.

In addition to the books I've listed below, I've also enjoyed La Bonne Cuisine de Madame St-Ange, the updated On Food and Cooking by Harold McGee, and Rememberence of Things Paris, some of the greatest food writing from Gourmet magazine from the past sixty years that is still some of the freshest and liveliest food prose happily back in print.

And on a sad note, I've finally given up on La Poste and assumed the two cases of cookbooks I shipped three years ago probably aren't going to ever show up (hope is no longer springing eternal...), so I ordered a fresh, brand-new copy of Julia Child's classic, Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

A few books I'm looking forward to reading in 2007 are The Sweet Life: The Desserts from Chanterelle by pastry chef Kate Zuckerman, and books from my favorite bloggers, including Shauna, Adam's untitled masterwork, Chocolate & Zucchini by Clotilde Dusoulier, and Super Natural Cooking by Heidi Swanson of 101 Cookbooks.

The most talked-about food book of the year, New Yorker writer Bill Buford starts from scratch in the kitchen of Mario Batali, then learns to make pasta by hand from an Italian master, and ends up butchering in Tuscany.

Although most of the comments and messages I get are friendly and kind, a few do slip through that are less-than-complimentary. A majority of them illuminate the errors of my ways by pointing out the faults in my cross-cultural observations. So I was delighted when I found Socio-Site Scan v1.01, some brand-new software which allows me to simply input all my blog entries, and tells me what percentage of my posts are which are complimentary to one culture, and what percentage isn't.

So what did I find?

Roughly 67.8% are complimentary to the French, while only 65.3% of what I write was pro-American.
But a whopping 47% were anti-French, followed closely by 45.2% of swipes at my compatriots in the states.

Since this is the beginning of the holiday season, one full of global good cheer (real or imagined), I decided that since our politicians have been messing it up a bit too long, at least 6 years too long (oops...gonna have to give the site a second run-through), I decided that today I'm calling a holiday truce.

Since there's no time like the present, I'm happy to start right now promoting international understanding by sharing these divinely delicious dates from Iran, which are perhaps the best dates I've ever had. (Insert your own joke here.) They certainly rival the Medjool dates from California, which are excellent as well, although they're far pricier. Hmm, perhaps I might suggest America trade dates for oil? It certainly would be a tasty trade-off that might make everyone a little less combative.

At last count, there are 1263 bakeries in Paris.

On just about every street, there's at least one, if not two, or even three bakeries. Some of them are very good, a few are perhaps not so fabulous, and several are excellent. Parisians eat a lot of bread, far more than their American counterparts.

Visitors often wonder, "How come we don't have bakeries like this is America?"

"Because people won't eat bread in America anymore. Everyone's afraid of it." I respond

Tragically, most nod in agreement.

Luckily there's not too much of that nonsense here in Paris. From early in the morning, until the last baguette de levain is handed across the counter for dinner, you'll find folks en queue, lined up impatiently waiting to get their daily bread.

And for some reason, I'm always in front of the most impatient one, who firmly keeps nudging me forward. My strategy against those Parisian pests is to gently innocently start backing up, which kinda freaks them out and invariably causes a chain reaction, since the person behind them is usually pressed up against them as well, nudging them forward too.

It causes a certain amount of shuffling and mild hysteria, but tant pis.
Anyone who wants to get that close to me better buy me a drink first.

Or at least a loaf of bread.

But when there's a bakery as good as 140 in town, Parisians have good reason to get pushy about their bread. And neighborhood residents buy stop here once, or even twice daily to get theirs. And like many of them, I'm happy to stand my ground for a crisp, golden baguette de campagne that feels crisp and warm when it's handed over the counter to me. Or for the buttery-mouthful of a flaky croissant that shatters into a gazillion crackly shards when you bite into it.

These are some of the daily rituals that go on around here, of which I'm frequently guilty of taking part.

(The pushing part I'm still getting used to.)

Although I don't live close enough to 140 to go two or three times a day, it's one of the handful of bakeries here that I'll happily scamper across the city to visit. Aside from their numeric name, which always gives me a chuckle, they bake some of the best breads in Paris. And recently, I was lucky enough to go behind the scenes of this top-notch boulangerie.

Last night, celebrating my good health, I took advantage of an invitation I received to meet the Paris Bloggers.

Unlike the Paris Food Bloggers, my friends who are a fine, upstanding bunch of citizens, the Paris Bloggers are a wanton, hedonistic tribe who didn't have a clue who I was. So they tried to ply me with Cosmopolitans anyways in hopes of getting a picture of the newbie in some sort of Cosmopolitany altered state.
Since they don't know me all that well, they thought they could tempt me with vodka and raw vegetables with dip. But they were wrong.

At least I hope so. I don't recall much near the end of the party...

And here's the bloggers who attended. Don't let any degenerate pictures on their sites fool you; many of their blogs have great inside tips on Paris, and make good reading.

Hillary Keegin & Aaron Ross of 13

Eric of Paris Daily Photo

Seth from The Paris Times

Pascal Fonquernie of ParisMarais.com

Polly of Polly Vous Français

Amy Alkon of Advice Goddess

Susie & Cesar of Ivy Paris

Richard of Eye Prefer Paris

Elliott Hester, guest blogger of Postcards from Paris/LA Times
(who they should keep, please!)

Heidi of The Paris Update

Catherine, the Petite Anglaise

Jennifer of No Place Like it

Le Meg of Leblageur

Laurie of The Paris Blog

Just to let you know in advance that this isn't going to be one of those posts that tells you what to do with those Thanksgiving leftovers, like how to make a delicious Turkey Tetrazzini. And by now it's too late anyways. If you have any leftovers, they're probably toxic and I would toss them away right now.

I don't want you ending up in the hospital around Thanksgiving.

Like I did.