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David Lebovitz Archives: September 2007

« August 2007
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October 2007 »

Sans Beurre

Although you can get an astonishing amount of excellent food in the US, the one thing that I haven't found an equal to is French butter. In my life, I'm probably responsible for a couple of tons of butter being baked, melted, sautéed, rolled, crumbled, cubed, smeared and creamed.

When I arrived in NY late last evening, I made a beeline to Whole Foods to stock up on provisions for the week since they're open late (I love America!) But after a search that involved engaging the entire cheese department in a discussion of butter, the conclusion was that they only had regular American butter and fancy European imports.

And I didn't come all the way back to the states to eat French butter.

It wasn't until I moved to France and tasted the sunshine-yellow butter that's easily available at most fromagers and even in the supermarket, that I noticed a remarkable difference. And I've become rather picky and for eating on my morning toast or melted over vegetables—I'm at the point now where I'll only let the butter from Jean-Yves Bordier cross my lips. I know I sounds like an insufferable snob (more than I normally do), but like chocolate, if you're going to eat it, you may as well eat the best since the good stuff has the same amount of calories as the crappy stuff.

Continue reading "Sans Beurre" »

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The Man-Purse

A French friend asked me recently, "David, do I look gay?"

Without a second of hesitation, I replied, "Yes, absolutely."

"Why?" he said.

"Well, for one thing," I told him, "You're French—which makes you suspect. Another is that you're wearing a pink polo shirt. You also answer your emails quickly and you spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about your hair."

"And you have a nice butt," I added for good measure, perhaps because he's a rugby player.

So how does one tell the difference between a man who's European or one who's gay?

Continue reading "The Man-Purse" »

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Banana Bread, or Banana Cake

Can someone could explain to me what the difference between Banana Bread and Banana Cake is?

I've been wracking my brain trying to come up with an explanation, any explanation...and I just can't think of one. If you presume that because Banana 'Bread' is made in a loaf pan, whereas a cake is usually baked in a round pan—by that same logic, Pound Cake would be Pound Bread, which doesn't sound quite as inviting.

So you're going to have to try harder.

Take muffins, for example. It's funny when people eat a muffin thinking they're being so 'healthy'. The word 'muffin' is just the Latin derivative of 'deceptive baked-good'. (Go ahead...look it up.) Swapping oil for butter, which often happens in muffins is fine, but you're not fooling anyone, folks.

Continue reading "Banana Bread, or Banana Cake" »

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Salonenque Olives

Flavored with crushed branches of fennel, these avocado-green olives are harvested very early and only available for an extremely short time. I've been anticipating them ever since Jacques, my favorite olive merchant, started getting excited when he told me about their arrival a few weeks back. So I knew they'd be special.

(If someone who's been selling olives for twenty-plus years is still excited about a specific olive, believe me, I pay attention.)

Les olives Salonenques are very fresh with a firm, meaty texture and a whiff of aromatic fennel. But these Provencal olives don't last long, which is why you won't likely find them outside of France. Jacques will ladle some into a sack, weight them, then add extra liquid to guard against them discoloring, which they do quickly because of their freshness.

You'll need to eat them relatively soon after you buy them. So get 'em while you can.

And since I can get 'em, believe me, I'm eating as many as I can before they're gone.

Le Soleil Provencal
Richard Lenoir/Bastille Market
Thursday and Sunday
Jacques' stand is at the center, on the east side, near Le Préau café

(He's often at the Maubert-Mutualité market in Paris as well.)

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News Flash! Get-Together Next Weekend at City Bakery in New York!

Next week I'll be in New York City and there's going to be a get-together and booksigning at The City Bakery, home of the fabulous pretzel croissant. It'll be a chance to meet and greet. So if you live in the area, or feel like you need an excuse to visit New York next weekend, stop by for a visit!

The event will be next Sunday, September 30th, from 3-4:30pm.

The kind folks at Baileys have offered sippin' samples as well.
(While it lasts...better get there before I do...)

This will be my only US visit this fall so if you've been waiting for your chance to meet up or get your book signed, come visit me upstairs at The City Bakery next weekend.

I'm looking forward to the get-together!

The City Bakery
3 West 18th Street
Near Union Square
(Map)

(Big thanks to Maury Rubin for offering space for the event and making books available on short notice.)

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Why Think, When I Can Link?

I wonder if they do this in any Parisian cafes?

The Masters of Chocolate descend on my city...

...but I am telling you that I am not going.

What the heck is couverture?

Who said cake decorating is boring?

The 5 most expensive chocolates in the world.
(via WTTF)

Marsha, Marsha..ooh..Marshaaaaa...!!

Chocolate x 4

Meet The Meat We Eat.

Holy bikeshorts, Laura!

Step-by-step guide to mastering gorgeous, buttery French tart dough.

My dinner with Heather.
(And what happens when you send food back around here...)

A new museum in Paris to add to my (huge) list.

Sounds like Café Attitude to me.
(Update: A nice apology!)

Good move, Darrell.

As if we need another reason to love Barry Manilow.

Error message request...granted!

Best bakeries in Paris?

Somehow I don't think this is gonna catch on in France

Life in Iran, from an American woman's perspective.

Lorenzo's yet another reason to buy top-quality Umbrian olive oil.

Fine French butter, available stateside.

The unhappier you are...the more ice cream you get.
(Via AG)

Sounds good to me!

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Paris x 3

Parisian Etiquette

When I go back to the states, one of the questions I'm most-commonly asked is—"Aren't Parisians rude?"

I recently got in my elevator and this was posted:

It's a notice that my neighbor is having her birthday party and to please excuse her in advance of any noise that may be a nuisance. I've been told some newcomers see these posted and incorrectly assume that it's an invitation to all in the building to stop by. So read carefully.

If you've ever been on the receiving end of the French 'stare' you know that's because French people talk rather softly in public places and it's considered rude to impose your conversation on others. Unfortunately that politesse don't carry over to cigarette smoke. Yet.

But I think letting your neighbors know your having a fête is a nice, not very rude gesture, so you can plan accordingly with an Ambien or whatever.

Continue reading "Paris x 3" »

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And Here's To You, Mrs. Roberts Son

When Adam asked me to host him on his book tour through cyberspace, the first thing that went through my mind was—"Adam Roberts? Who cares about him?"

Especially when his mom pals around with the big boys...

My goodness, if Adam pops up one more time in my RSS feeder, I'm going to bop him in that big old schnozola of his. Well, that's not true. One of the highlights of my days (and nights) is when Adam posts to his fabulous blog, The Amateur Gourmet.

And for those of us who can't get enough of him popping up in our In boxes and blog feeders, he just released his first book: The Amateur Gourmet: How to Shop, Chop, and Table Hop like a Pro (Almost), so you can keep Adam in your kitchen, bring him into your bedroom and even take him in the loo with you.

But until I get a restraining order, I'm going to remain his mom, Mrs. Roberts, biggest fan. And I'm so in awe of her that she was featured in The Perfect Scoop (page 73).

Ben had to go shave before leaving to meet his pal Matt, but Mrs. Roberts agreed to stick around and answer my questions. Believe me, even without Ben around, I felt like I'd died and gone to nice-Jewish boy heaven...oy gevalt!

Q: When Adam tossed aside his promising career as a lawyer and came out to you, as a budding gourmand, what was your first reaction?

Mrs. Roberts: "WHAT?!"

That as my first reaction. But then my reaction was that I thought it was great. He's very creative, a very creative person, and he likes to write. He found an avenue to write and be creative so I was happy.

Q: Boy, my mother was ready to brain me when I tossed aside my promising career as a neurosurgeon to bake cookies. No wonder all those celebrities want to be seen with you.

Continue reading "And Here's To You, Mrs. Roberts Son" »

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Mon Pain de Sucre

Does anyone know what this is used for?...

This solid cone of sugar was given to me by a friend. It weights about 2 kilos (4½ pounds) and is from Morocco.

Can't figure out what to do with it, or what it's used for. But I don't think I need to buy sugar for a while, although I can't really use it for baking. It's too big to crush in my mortar and pestle.

So what does one do with a Pain de sucre?

Use it for sweetening a big pot of tea?
Is it an edible weapon?

(Easily dissolvable evidence...)

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My Mortar & Pestle

A long, long time ago, I remember an article in a food magazine where they asked a bunch of chefs and cookbook authors what their favorite piece of cookware was. But no one asked me.

There were all these smiling faces of happy cooks and writers, presumably whisking things up in their kitchens, chopping away at chocolate and toasted nuts, and spinning salads around and around and around. And talking about it!

Why no one bothered to ask me is anyone's guess.

Continue reading "My Mortar & Pestle" »

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Cafe des Musees

Located a few blocks north of the Place des Vosges, steps away from the hubbub of tourists clogging the sidewalks, is Café des Musées, which is a great new dining address in Paris.

Chef François Chenel makes his own pâtes and smokes his own organic salmon, which arrives with a spoonful of crème fraîche, chives, and toasted levain bread. Both are also available, plus pre-cooked lobes of foie gras to take home even if you're not dining there. (Menu here.)

We split an order of grouse. One of the great things about living in France is in the winter (which this summer felt like), restaurants often feature game like partridge, wild pigeon, and other fowl. The grouse was dark meaty-red, just as ordered. Alongside were triangles of braised celery root, a pile of dressed watercress and quetsches, Italian prune plums that were cooked until jam-like but as unctuous and sweet as I would have liked: I would've added a shot of port in the deglazing.

Continue reading "Cafe des Musees" »

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¡Carnitas!

Why do people call you thirty minutes before you've invited them for dinner?

It's something I don't understand. Usually if you're having folks for dinner, if you're anything like me, during those precious few minutes before everyone arrives you're racing around in your undies trying to get everything together so you can look relaxed when they arrive.

But people can't resist calling—"We're on our way!" "Can we bring anything?" "What time did you say to come?" "Can I bring two friends?"

There's a couple of rules in Paris about dinner parties:

The first is that you never, ever show up on time. Thirty minutes late is normale, and if you show up earlier you just may catch your host in their undies too (which may or may not be such a bad thing.) Another is that you need to get people's digicode in advance. Most buildings in Paris have a complex series of numbers and letters that you need to press on a pad by the entry to get into the building.

Sadly, people have a way of forgetting them and having to frantically call you from the sidewalk since they can't get in. And lastly, no one in France has food allergies so if you're invited for dinner, if you have an food issues, you'd better pipe up in advance or be prepared to eat Tête de veau...which, believe me, you don't want to eat.

So when they call, while they're blabbing on and on and on, you're hyperventilating and all those thoughts are running through you mind—"Darn it. Why didn't I trim my fingernails when I had time on Wednesday?" "Will they notice the pots and pans piled up in the bathtub?" (which is a whole 'nother blog entry...) "Do I need to make more chips since I think I ate about half of them after I made them?"

Continue reading "¡Carnitas!" »

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Not Very Appetizing

There something about this restaurant...

...that makes me rather nervous about eating there.

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Clotilde's Very Chocolate Cookies

I'm glad I'm not the only one around here who experiences what I call "Only in France" moments.

Recently I met up with Clotilde, who writes the popular Chocolate & Zucchini blog, for a drink one afternoon. I ordered a glass of wine and she, a mineral water. Although there was a large, unopened bottle of Badoit sparkling water standing prominently behind the bar, ripe for the taking, the serveuse told us they didn't have any bottled water.

Of course, neither one of us questioned that. But when she left to fetch our drinks, we both looked at each other, wrinkled up our perplexed faces, then shrugged it off. It's nice to know the locals find things as curious around here as I do.

Speaking of curious French things, if you're a regular reader of Chocolate & Zucchini, you're privy to her charming stories about her life in Paris accompanied by recipes. And you unless you've been hiding like a bottle of Badoit behind the bar, you've likely heard of her new book: Chocolate & Zucchini: Daily Adventures in a Parisian Kitchen.

Turning the pages and reading about her life in Montmarte is like spending the day with une vraie Parisienne, which seem to be an endless quest of finding the best markets and sourcing ingredients then taking them home and making them into fabulous dinners to share with friends and her lucky neighbors.

Before I met Clotilde, I was certain she was some burly truck-driver from Wisconsin pulling a fast one over on us all.

Continue reading "Clotilde's Very Chocolate Cookies" »

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Recipes To Use Up Leftover Egg Whites

Often bakers and ice cream-lovers have egg whites leftover.
But what to do with all those slippery little devils?

It seems I always have a container in the refrigerator and more often than not, I make a big batch of Chocolate-Coconut Macaroons. One batch gets baked (and eaten) right away and I freeze the other half in a freezer bag, which has saved my cul on more than one last-minute, dessert frenzied evening.

A bowl of chewy macaroons dipped in bittersweet chocolate, some fruit, and homemade ice cream. What could be easier...or better?

Liquid egg whites can be frozen just as they are. I usually do it in a specific quantity, and label it as such, since there's nothing more infuriating than needing 1 cup of egg whites and trying to chip that away from a frozen-solid block in the freezer. Some folks devote an ice cube tray to egg whites, slipping one in each indentation so they know exactly how many they have. Just so you know, one large egg white is about 2 tablespoons and weighs 25 grams.

Here's some recipes of mine and from others that are great ways to use up leftover egg whites:

Pecan Meringue Cookies (Simply Recipes)

Homemade Marshmallows

Continue reading "Recipes To Use Up Leftover Egg Whites" »

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L-i-n-k-s

September 8, 2007 | Comments (10)

Since I can't hack Ikea, it's nice to know others can.

Unbaffling those French cooking terms.
(Merci, Kate)

What? No camera?

Oy!

Ugh!

Learn French—plus vite.

She's ticklin' my ribs.

Do I have to get blamed for everything around here?

The French smoking ban ain't gonna be such a killer after all.

I am not a stalker.

Too beautiful to eat.

Play-by-play at The Fat Duck.

Teddy-Bear Tiramisù!

They don't sound so good to me, either.

Breakfast Ice Cream?

Middle Eastern Ice Cream?

BlUBEbrries do exist.

A perfectly divine way to use up my leftover mascarpone.

Brett's Big Rig Jig

Why we go. And why we come back.

Some say the best chocolat chaud in Paris.

Ruhlman's Smack-Down.

And those rugby players are sure heating things up around here...
(Note: PG-13)

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La Boulangerie par Veronique Mauclerc

September 6, 2007 | Comments (21)

I'd like to introduce you to someone you may not have heard of: Véronique Mauclerc. But I hope on your next visit to Paris, or if you live here, you'll make the trip to see her gorgeous and very special bakery.

Early each morning at Véronique's boulangerie in the 19th arrondissement, the bleary bakers start mixing the organic flour at 2am after torching-up the wood-fired oven, only one of four in Paris (and there's only two people that know how to fix it in the city.) So if you're wondering what you're doing in the middle of nowhere, it's because an oven this special just can't be moved.

And what a magnificent oven it is! As the morning continues, and perhaps the coffee kicks in, the bakers start adding wood until the temperature of the oven's just right for baking bread, 275C (about 530F). Then each hand-shaped loaf is baked off to crackly-crusty perfection.

Her incredibly beautiful oven can hold up to 100 loaves at a time, but you'd never know she could reach such capacity when you see the small, carefully-crafted loaves of bread on display in the bakery, which is listed as a historic monument in Paris.

Continue reading "La Boulangerie par Veronique Mauclerc" »

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Don't Pipi Here

September 5, 2007 | Comments (17)

Yes, really.

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Pistachio Gelato Recipe

September 3, 2007 | Comments (56)

Although each year it's getting harder and harder to remember that far back, I still recall when I was younger, during the summer in New England, we'd head to the dairy store for ice cream. Often I'd order pistachio; the vivid green color and the crunchy bits of pistachio were somewhat exotic to a timid little David growing up in pre-Martha Connecticut.

As I grew up, I learned the truth about pistachio ice cream (amongst other things). Mainly that it was usually made with artificial colors and flavors—not the real thing. So when I wrote Le Perfect Scoop, I thought long and hard about including a pistachio ice cream recipe. But I couldn't in good conscience include a recipe that costs 20 bucks to make, which is similar to what I call the 'Quarter-Cup of Squab Stock Syndrome'.

Continue reading "Pistachio Gelato Recipe" »

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8 Tips For Using Olive Oil

September 1, 2007 | Comments (34)

A recent post on Marinated Feta elicited some interesting comments and questions about olive oil. Here's a few tips that I follow when buying, using, and storing oil:

1. Keep olive oil out of the light.

I know you've spent a lot of money on your oil and you want to look at all those pretty labels lined up on your countertop. But too bad; it's one of the absolute worst things you can do to oil. Light destroys olive oil, and other specialty oils as well, so stow it away. Nothing destroys olive oil faster than light. Except heat.

2. Keep olive oil away from heat.

That means don't store your olive oil on that shelf above your stove, even though that's where it's handy. Keep it away from sunlight as well. It's best not to store olive oil in the refrigerator. If you do, when you take it out the condensation can dilute the oil and cause it to spoil quicker.

Continue reading "8 Tips For Using Olive Oil" »

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Latest Links

September 1, 2007 | Comments (10)

It's bacon and it's vegetarian?
(Thanks Melissa!)

I just knew those hand sanitizers were evil.
You can take them off your belts now, folks.
(via Derrick)

Deb's not as smitten as the French are about McDo's.

Why rugby rocks (See what you Americans are missing?)

Are we sure he's talking about the New England?

How great French butter is made.

Adam's out!

Work on an organic farm in France.

It would be a crime to miss this.

v2.0 is here.

Faith and 254 friends.

Let me know when there's an iPee for Paris.

Steve isn't the only one who shouldn't be eating these...
(Thanks Bruce!)

He wouldn't do that if he realized how valuable those things are around here—expired or not.

Some wiggly reasons why you shouldn't buy counterfeit chocolate. (Watch ayor.)

End of tomato season?
Make white gazpacho.

Sugar High Friday goes local!

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Photo courtesy of
Christopher Hirsheimer

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