December 2008 Archives

I couldn't let the year end without a little reportage about Christmas this year. You heard about my last-minute scramble to find the World's Most Expensive Pastry Bag, which is now safely stored away in my Safe Deposit Box for next year.

There's a joke that the only bad thing about Paris is that it's full of Parisians. I'm not going to comment on that, but Paris pretty much empties out, and is glorious time to stay in town. Also Christmas is taken pretty seriously around here. It's considered a close, family holiday and even though the big department stores have spectacular window displays, Christmas hasn't been overtly commercialized and kids are content when la grande-mère hands them a bag of fresh clementines, and don't throw tantrums if they don't get the latest version of the impossible-to-get video game. At least in my French famille.

The only tantrums being thrown were by me, making my Bûche de Noël, which I'll get to in a bit.

I always dreamed of writing a soup cookbook. A book of recipes where there's no need to carefully measure or weigh anything, variations are not only allowable, but encouraged, and cooking times are merely suggestions, and not cast-in-stone instructions to be followed like the ten commandments.

In addition, yes—most soup recipes can be successfully multiplied or divided, and yes—they can be made in advance and often frozen. And if someone adds an extra onion or potato to the pot, the world won't open and swallow us all up, and life as we know it won't end.

Aside from clutching our hot water bottles, Parisians keep warm during the winter by eating lots and lots of hot soup.

Today I turn fifty. Excuse my French—but holy crap!

I'm sure you've heard this a zillion times before, but I have no idea where all the time went. Believe me, when it happens to you, you'll say it too.

Did I really go to college for four years then travel around Europe for another year after that? Did I really work away in restaurant kitchens, day and night for twenty-plus years? Did I actually hunker down in my home kitchen, here and there, melting chocolate and whipping up all those cakes in cookies? And what was I thinking, moving to a foreign country, one that I spoke barely two words of the language, and one where I didn't know anyone?

There's a phrase that's used in restaurant kitchens, in the weeds, which means that basically, you're sunk. It's when the orders are coming up too fast and you're behind, or that you've taken on more work than you can chew and you can't keep up.

A few weeks ago I volunteered to make a Bûche de Noël for the Christmas dessert. At the time, it seemed like a good idea, but this morning, I'm not so sure.

....would that be a selling point.

Well, if that doesn't scare away the riff-raff, those of you who are left have a spectacular chance to win a slew of equally-spectacular prizes in Menu for Hope V. This is the home stretch of the benefit and we're up to $18k $22,445 $25,175 $52,131, last time I checked, which is terrific, but far short of last year's $92k. Which means that some of you may have passed over a chance to win one of the prizes.

So I thought I'd use something no one can resist to get your attention: S-e-x.

I mean, how about cool would it be having this vibrating Cuisinart ICE-50 Ice Cream Maker in your bedroom, like I do?

This sturdy mother-of-all home ice cream machines will satisfy you like no man or woman, or either (depending...) could ever do. I mean, you just press a button and in about forty minutes you're on your way to bliss. And seriously, you can't expect that with every Tom, Dick or Harry...or Harriet.

And ladies, there's no batteries to run out at the wrong time, either.
; )

Can one even put a price on that?

In my high school locker room, when the jocks congregated after winning a big game, they'd all jump around, yelling the word, "Sah-weet! Sah-weet!" adding a big, tight, thumbs-up for emphasis, while jumping all over each other celebrating their victory.

While not as exciting as a group of sweaty, nearly-naked high school athletes jumping all over each other, I don't know about you, but what turns me on these days is Sticky Toffee Pudding.

Ouch!

After making my last batch of Quick Mincemeat, which found it's way, then disappeared into, one of my Thanksgiving desserts, for some reason, I got a hankering to make the real-deal. I don't know what possessed me, but when I get something stuck in my craw, it can take the Jaws-of-Life to get it out of there.

Making traditional-style mincemeat requires one not just to mix up bunch of dried fruits and candied peel, but also demands one to include a generous blob of animal fat in the mix. Thus, I began my search for suet in Paris. Which you wouldn't think was all that hard. However I've learned that here, some things take a little less thinking-about, and a little more legwork than one might think the situation should really warrant.

I figured one of the many butchers at my local outdoor market would have kidney fat, no problem. But at each stand, they just solemnly shook their heads "Non." When I told them I needed it to make a dessert, you can imagine their Gallic reaction.

C'est normale for me when I'm trying to find something specific around here. With my luck, even if I'm searching for a four-legged table, I'll go to the magasin des tables, which'll have every conceivable kind of table—except for the kind with four legs.

Welcome to the Menu for Hope V auction!

Last year, we raised over $92,000 for the UN World Food Programme. This year, I'm featuring a very special prize: the lucky winner will be churning out ice cream all year round with this fabulous, professional-style Cuisinart ICE-50 Ice Cream Maker!

This heavy-duty, stainless-steel machine will have you lapping up all sorts of ice creams, sorbets, and sherbets with just the flip of a switch.

Donated by Cuisinart USA, this machine is self-refrigerating and ready when you are. No need to pre-freeze canisters—just pour your mixture in, and soon you'll be scooping out all of your favorite flavors.

Here's a round-up of some of my favorite cookbooks and recipes that I presented on the site in 2008. A few are books that I've been devouring, and others are those I've been bookmarking recipes in, to make on the site in the upcoming months. All in all, the best of the year...

When they start cloning humans, they'd better start with Flo Braker. One of my all-time favorite bakers, Flo wowed us with her previous books, including the all-encompassing The Simple Art of Perfect Baking. Her all-new book, Baking for All Occasions just arrived on my doorstep and I've been drooling over the recipes, like her Butterscotch Spiral Coffee Cake (wouldn't that be nice to wake up to?) and Chocolate-Lovers Angel Food cake, which features the best of both worlds. I'll be featuring a recipe or two on the site in the upcoming months. I can't wait.

When I was making my colorful quince tarte Tatin and writing up the post about it, I remembered my handy copy of The Flavor Bible. Even though I know everything in the world (or at least I think I do...), I leafed through it, looking for what goes with quince. And lo and behold, there's a whole world of flavors out there, outside of my head! This culinary heavyweight, by Karen Page and Andrew Dornenburg, takes every flavor imaginable and searches for each and every possible flavor pairing. It's a terrific reference and I'm happy it's on my shelf, within easy reach.

I like Pierre Hermé very much. He's a genius, and his stuff is gorgeous and the fellow deserves all the accolades that are bestowed upon him. He seems like a nice guy and his shops in Paris are swanky as all get-out.

His white truffle macaron I found very intriguing. Rather brilliant, actually. And I'm a big fan of his Arabesque, two apricot-flavored disks with a dusting of pistachio and a hint of crunchy croquante in the middle.

But this one, I couldn't eat.

This week in Paris we had our first snowfall. I was at the dentist, and when I came out, the sidewalks were damp from the wet rain that had fallen while I'd had my semi-annual detartrage.

Then, as I walked up the rue Montorgueil, the annoying rain turned to little icy bits, then to large snowflakes, dusting everything, from the brick sidewalks, then coating my arms and shoulders. It was so blinding that it drove the communists distributing leaflets back into their headquarters. (And those people are pretty tough...or so they'd like us to believe.) As for me, those snowflakes drove me right into Stohrer, Paris' oldest pastry shop, because this time of the year—and only this time of the year—they make my favorite little treat: Zimtsterne.

Quite a few of you were interested in what happened around here on Thanksgiving. Even though my internet service is on it's second week of vexing me, and I'd just assume go on strike like everyone else around here, in protest, I don't think I'd get much sympathy, so I thought I'd better get my Thanksgiving post up.

I just saw a report on CNN that of all the countries around the world, the people in Israel eat the most amount of turkey, per capita, than anyone else. There are les dindes in France, but it's almost impossible to find a whole bird, and one usually needs to be ordered in advance.

There's an inside joke amongst people who write books about baking that any recipe that begins with "Using a candy thermometer....." scares the pants off of people and is enough to ward away all but the most dedicated baker.

I'm not sure why that is. It's like when people tell me, "I can't bake." While baking is a fairly exacting affair, 1 cup of sugar is pretty clear: it's one cup of sugar. It's not like frying fish or meat, where you need to gauge doneness yourself, or making salad dressing where personal taste and the ingredients used can alter the finished result. But the thermometers does not lie.* I mean 225 degrees is pretty clear: it's 225 degrees.

To those of you who've been writing and pleading to get into the laboratory of Jacques Genin, the most elusive chocolatier in Paris, the wait is over. After years of jumps and starts, he's finally opening his boutique in Paris, which is open to the public.

(Previously, one had to call, or just show up at his workshop in the 15th arrondissement, and hope he had a moment in his frantic schedule.)

So his dream is finally a reality—and what a dream it is!

I promised a bunch of holiday-friendly recipes this month, and this one is a doozy! Peanut butter cookies, filled with salted peanut caramel—do those sound as good to you as they do to me?

The recipe is from The Art and Soul of Baking by Cindy Mushet, who is one of America's best bakers. Her name might not be on the edge of your tongue, but she's been quietly rolling doughs, mixing up batters, and baking off custards in this book, which is an encyclopedic authority on baking that tips the scales in both the breadth of recipes, and the actual weight itself.

And I thought my soul was a bit weighty.

When I was asked a few months ago to write a quote for the book jacket, I rifled through the preview pages, bookmarking a slew of recipes I plan to make.