May 2008 Archives

My desktop is a mess, cluttered with posts that I started, but never got around to finishing. Like the one about Jamie Oliver, who personally doesn't make me sick, but the camera work on his show definitely makes me quesy.

A lot of times a thought will hit me when I'm out and about, then I'll race home and start writing, only never to go back and follow up and finish the post.

Anyhow, these are some posts that I started and never got around to finishing up. But I have so many new things that I want to write about, it was time to let these go. So here's a look at what could've been, but never was, and never will be...

How To Look Parisian

I found a wallet on the street, and was with my partner, who's Parisian. Opening it up, there was a school ID so we stopped in the nearby school to return it to the front desk. He did all of the talking, I stood by not making a sound.

When it was time to leave, she looked at me, and said...in English, "And thank you very much, too."

I hadn't said anything. I wasn't wearing my fanny pack or puffy white sneakers. Heck, I wasn't even smiling. Yet somehow she knew.

(Ed: Then, for some reason, I went off on this tangent. Don't know what I was thinking...maybe I'd just had a bad encounter elsewhere that day?-dl)

The most important thing to remember is this:

Whenever you approach someone, realize that you're bothering them.

Whenever someone approaches you, act like they're bothering you.

It's a fine line and there's a little dance you do in shops when you need assistance. First, you have to bother them, so they have to act bothered back.

Then if they ask you a follow-up question, you need to act bothered back. Most of the time, even more so than they looked when you bothered them. You don't want them to think you're more important than they are, do you?

So then they think that you being bothered by them is more important than them being bothered by you.

Got that?

(I have no idea where this one was going, but was found it amusing that in spite of the fact I rarely wear sneakers, and try not to smile, I get pegged as an American without even moving a muscle. Then I kind of segued into a thing about Parisians that I never got back to and even confused myself by the end.

I also like the crosswalk signs, showing a notoriously impatient Parisian with his hands on his hips, waiting indignantly to cross the street. That sign says so much, and I wanted to share a photo of it with a story. But I guess I'll just have to let the sign speak for itself. -dl)

3 Sure-Fire Ways to Avoid Going Postal in Paris

The other evening I was having dinner with a group of folks from out of town, and not one of them was staying in a hotel. Each had rented an apartment and were having a great time—and saving money, while doing so.

There are scores of websites and companies that rent mid- to high-end apartments, which are great places to stay if you're looking for more plush surroundings. But while many owners will rent a short-term vacation apartment from an agency, the most economical way to stay in Paris is to find an apartment that's for rent by owner. (FRBO). These deals may require a bit of digging, as residents will often post to online bulletin boards or send out e-mails to friends to pass on rather than listing them with agencies.

A quick glance through a few of the sites I've listed below reveal many Paris apartments in the 250€-400€ per week range, especially the FRBOs. Aside from being less-expensive than a hotel, another benefit of renting an apartment is that you can save big-time by skipping hotel breakfasts and get your own freshly-baked pain au chocolat from that charming little pastry shop on the corner.

My search for the perfect, most luscious and chocolaty mousse au chocolat brought me right back home to America, to Julia Child's recipe. Although I have a few other versions in my repertoire, her recipe is a classic and has that perfect slightly-gummy texture, backed up by a wallop of pure dark chocolate flavor.

Here's a list of some restaurants in Paris that are open on Sunday. Note that some are quite basic while others may fall into the slightly touristy category. Nevertheless, I still think they're worthy of a visit. All but the most basic restaurants prefer that diners make reservations.

Another Sunday dining option is to visit one of the outdoor markets and make up a picnic. Markets open on Sunday morning (9am-2pm) include Richard Lenoir (M: Bastille), Aligre (M: Ledru-Rollin), Raspail (M: Sèvres-Babylon), and Place Monge (M: Place Monge).

Feel free to add any favorites restaurants of yours in the comments.

Breizh Café
109, rue Vieille du Temple (3rd)
01 42 72 13 77

Excellent buckwheat crêpes served in a casual, yet sparse setting. Especially busy at prime lunch hours.

Chez Paul
13, rue de Charonne (11th)
01 47 00 34 57

This traditional French bistro flies under the radar of many but is a great choice for Sunday lunch, especially after a visit to the nearby Richard Lenoir market. Hearty fare.

Join me and cookbook author Susan Loomis at her home On Rue Tatin, for a Three-Day Chocolate Indulgence, November 16-19, 2008.

You'll participate in daily hands-on cooking classes, as well as learn new techniques and discover the secrets of great French country cooking and baking. Aside from whipping up classic and modern French chocolate dessert and confections with me, we'll also have a guided chocolate tasting to learn how to evaluate chocolate, a wine tasting with expert Hervé Lestage, and focused tastings to increase your appreciation of the spectacular bounty of France, including olive and nut oils, salts, and Calvados.

And one special morning, we'll visit a country market that dates back to medieval times in a neighboring village and gather ingredients for a bountiful French feast.

We'll dine by the fire in Susan's beautifully-restored country home, and spend our days cooking and baking, sharing techniques and recipes. This culinary adventure is three fun-filled days, which is perfect if you'd like to combine it with a trip to Paris.

To register, or for more information, visit: On Rue Tatin.

Paris chocolatier...

Michel Chaudun
149, rue de l'Université (map)
01 47 53 74 40

Michel Chaudun (in Japan)

Alain Ducasse recently took over la direction of Le Jules Verne, the high-end restaurant in the Eiffel Tower that had lost its reputation and luster as a fine dining destination during the past several years. I hadn't ever eaten there, since its reputation had preceded it. But this week, I finally got my chance to dine there.

We waited patiently for the private elevator of the Tour Eiffel to lift us up to mid-tower, over four hundred feet in the air, above Paris.

A couple of years ago, I was invited to do a demonstration at the Greenmarket in New York City. I jumped on the chance, since I love that market, but as the date closed in, I got a message informing me that they didn't have a kitchen...although they did have a single-burner hot plate.

It's nice to know I'm not the only one having wrestling with foreign languages around here. A couple of weeks ago I was buying some olives at an épicerie, and the woman, who wanted to practice her English, as she spooned olives in to a sack, reassured me; "Don't worry. I will give you some brain with that."

Thinking maybe it was some odd French thing, but I wasn't really keen on having someone add a few brains to my bag of olives. After a bit of mental maneuvering, I realized she was letting me know she would be adding some "brine" to my olives—not "brain".

Which was such a relief.

Ok, so fast-forward back to last Sunday. Noting that Monday was a holiday, since I'd already bought the cukes, it dawned on me that the giant Tang Frères, Paris' Asian supermarket, was open on Sunday. So I rushed right down there.

Of course, they'd have coarse salt.

Navigating the mobs of people, working my way through the aisles, I bought a whole bunch of things.

Pardon, Monsieur Linxe, but I disagree.

At a recent tasting at La Maison du Chocolat, I sampled at least eight chocolates—not to mention passion fruit ganache, chocolat chaud, plus two of their newest summer flavors: melon and star anise.

It was a lot to get through, let me tell you. I normally avoid any hot chocolate that's offered in those kinds of situations, because I find that's the tummy-buster, the stuff that puts you over the edge. And when faced with a plate of such fine chocolates, I want to enjoy and savor every chocolate-dipped bite. A warm cup of silky-rich chocolat chaud alongside? That's just dorer le lys. (Gilding the lily.)

My favorite chocolate at La Maison du Chocolat is Rigoletto Noir.

Pajeon, p'ajon, pajon, pa jun, pageon, jeon...I've seen so many variations on the name that I just decided to go with calling mine—Korean Pancake.

Like the various spellings, recipes vary as well. Some have the egg beaten into the batter, but I prefer it spread on top (or on the bottom), giving me crispy, eggy edges. Other recipes load up on vegetables and other stuff, yet I tend to keep it simple.

This Korean pancake is one of my go-to recipes, especially good when I don't know what to make for dinner. Sure, you can add prawns, chicken, corn, bits of seaweed, tofu, mushroom slices, kimchi, asparagus slices, or some other cooked or shredded vegetables that you have on hand.

I even have a sweet potato that I've lost interest in that I'm eyeballing with great interest. When I bought it at the market, it seemed like a good idea at the time, but if I oven-roast pieces until nicely browned, why not?

There are two rules that seem to be constant in my life.

One is that I, like most bakers, crave anything with salt and vinegar. I'm sure it's working around sugar and chocolate all the time that does it to me, but nine times out of ten, if it's salty and if it's sour, I want it.

The second constant of my life in Paris, is that whatever I'm looking for, they're sure to have everything around what I'm looking for. And I mean, absolutely everything—but the one and only thing that I'm specifically in dire need of.

At the end of last week's Paris chocolate tour, I was craving pickles. Specifically the half-sour spears offered in New York delis. You know, the kind that aren't the least bit soggy, and have that salty, sprightly refreshing crispness. So I turned to Arthur Schwartz, who's pretty much the guy that everyone turns to nowadays for all-things Jewish. And New York-ish.

Last night was the second-to-last night of the chocolate tour, and we spent it on Mort's boat, which is anchored in the Seine, just off the place de la Concorde.

Like so many things, the evening began with the best of intentions.

On the next boat over, la mère and le père went away for the holiday weekend, leaving the teenage son alone to have a party. In an odd twist, the (French) neighbor's dining table was stocked with jugs of Coke, bags of le chips, pre-fabricated chicken wings (sold in foil pouches), and their host was grilling off some hot dogs. He also knocked over the grill of burning-hot coals—twice—on the deck, forcing a mad dash to hose it down.

We Americans started with cold Sancerre, bowls of Lucques olives, crisp Iranian pistachios, jambon de Bayonne, before peeling cold shrimp, with a big platter of cheese before we ended with dessert: fresh mint ice cream and chocolates. In between there was also pâté and terrine Gascogne and wild asparagus.

As I type these words—ouch!—I now accept that it's probably not a good idea to drink white wine, red wine, rosé, Champagne, absinthe, and water with all that. (Ok, I was just kidding about the water...) but I did get an invited to join the party next door, when the music started and I passed the bottle of absinthe in their direction. Hey, after all the damage done to int'l relations over the past few years, someone's gotta repair the damage, right?

I don't recall too much, and most of my photos are fuzzy, for some bizarre reason. I do recall that the evening began by me losing my skivvies but I did find them before heading out. (That's the kind of week it's been.) Apart from Mort dropping his cell phone into the surging waters of the Seine and me making a new group of friends, we were fortunate to have Michael Recchiuti crash the party, ensuring that there was plenty of chocolate.

I'd hope to post some better shots of yesterday, but had to rely on one of North African pastries from earlier in the week. And this morning I'm nursing a tepid café au lait, slipping on a fresh pair of unmentionables along with a neatly-pressed shirt, and heading to a chocolate-tasting with the experts at La Maison du Chocolat.

And if that's not worthy of a spanking-clean, fresh pair of undershorts, I don't know what is.

We're mid-week into our Paris Chocolate Tour here and we're having a great time. Everyone's enjoying the unusually fine weather, and of course, the chocolate.

I wanted to post a few shots and notes in my spare seven minutes—it's 5:34am so forgive any typos or missed links. I'll catch 'em later...in my free time ; )

Cheerful, and the amazingly-talented, Jean-Charles Rochoux shows us a chocolate replica of his arm in his laboratory. He made it for a Halloween display at a Parisian department store. The scoop of passionfruit sorbet is from Le Bac à Glaces, an ice cream shop just a few blocks away, where we stopped to cool down.

At M. Rochoux's swanky boutique, his assistant Murielle, packs up a box of chocolate. Check out the sexy glove. Oh la la! I may need even more sorbet to cool down...

If you do stop in, be sure to get a tablet of his chocolate from Peru. This is one of my favorite chocolates in his shop, along with the tablets of caramelized hazelnuts from Piedmont enrobed in chocolate as well as his latest; a bar of chocolate with a unctuous layer of creamy caramel oozing out.

A light French salad: la salade parisienne. Yes, there is some lettuce tucked under that mountain of ham, but I was more focused on the yummy house-made fries at Le Nemrod that I dove on as soon as they landed. Unfortunately, being the consummate host, I did share a few with my table mates. But not before grabbing all the crispiest specimens. Since my salad was so light, my guests knew I needed the extra nourishment to make it through the afternoon.

Did I mention how light it was? Just checking...

Of course, it's not lunch in Paris without un peu de rosé. I had a little pitcher, which was just enough to carry me through the afternoon. Well, at least until dinner.

If the above salad looked too light for you, the salad with soft-cooked egg melting over a huge mound of crispy bacon and studly croutons, may be more suitable to carry someone through a week of tasting chocolates. They also make a letter-perfect croque monsieur (and madame), if you're in the neighborhood.

New chocolate-makers are springing up across America, in the most unlikeliest of places. Like Missouri.

Who'd a thunk it?

Using good 'ol American ingenuity, a little over a year ago, Alan McClure started grinding up beans and molding them into lithe bars of very dark, and very sleek, bittersweet chocolate.

His company, Patric chocolate, makes bars that are "micro-produced," and he's got two in his line-up, both using cacao from Madagascar.

When I asked Alan what attracted him to the cacao from that region, he said "Since the bars are made from cacao that come from one single estate, and since the family there has owned it for quite some time, they really have been able to exert an extremely high level of control on the quality and consistency of the fermentation and drying, which is actually quite rare in the cacao world."

Alan proclaims that this isn't pure "criollo" chocolate, a much-touted term for a varietal that almost all chocolate experts say no longer exists in its pure form. (Some chocolate-makers are claiming to the contrary.) Right now, the all the beans for Patric's bars are from a plantation in the Sambirano Valley.

I just noticed that Amazon is selling Cuisinart Ice Cream Makers for only $19.99! These machines are reconditioned, which means they were re-built at the factory and may have cosmetic blemishes. It's an amazing deal and an inexpensive way to chill-out this summer.

This kind of machine has a canister that gets pre-frozen in advance, twenty four hours prior to churning—some people simply store theirs in the freezer all the time. The upside is that they're inexpensive and they don't churn a lot of air into the custard.

They also chill up a pretty mean margarita, too.

Don't know how long they plan to feature these machines, but since they're at the top of their best-selling kitchen items, they'll probably go fast...

For more advice on ice cream makers: Meet Your Maker

*Update: Amazon is currently sold out of the very low-priced reconditioned ice cream makers, but it's worth keeping an eye on their site as these kind of deals come and go frequently. To those who got machines—happy churning!

When I moved to Paris, I moved a whole ton of stuff with me. Plus one yellowed scrap of paper. It was a recipe that I tore out of some newspaper eons ago, for Goat Cheese Custard.

I had high hopes for the recipe, enough to schlep it with me across the Atlantic and look at it wistfully every once in a while, guarding it for almost a decade, until I finally got around to making it this week.