September 2009 Archives

[This policy has been updated and is valid as of October 2009.]

This blog is a personal blog written and edited by David Lebovitz. This blog does not accept any form of cash advertising, sponsorship, or paid topic insertions except in the sidebars and areas where it is clearly marked or evident. Nothing is any of the posts on the blog has been placed there because payment exchanged hands.

Newsletter

Readers who subscribe to my newsletter will only receive message generated by me. The list of subscribers is never shared or sold. Newsletters are sent out intermittently throughout the year and I do not send unsolicited e-mails or newsletters: at the end of each is an opt-out feature if readers wish to discontinue receiving it.

Products Featured

I infrequently accept products, services, travel, and event tickets from companies and organizations as long as the topic pertains to the blog, or is aligned with my personal beliefs. I sincerely believe in small businesses and food producers and will often feature them, or items that they produce, in an effort to assist them in becoming more widely known. This, to me, is an honest gesture to give these companies and establishments more exposure.

Because I live abroad, and many products aren’t easily available, I will have American products sent to me by the company, so I can evaluate them honestly and share it with readers. There is never any monetary compensation involved and I make it clear to the company that I don’t promise to mention the product, or give it a positive review, on this site or in my books.

Restaurant Reviews

In the restaurant reviews on the site, I’ve paid for my meal. In cases where the meal was complimentary, I mention in the post that I was invited by the host. I sometimes get complimentary items from restaurants because I was a pastry chef and have many friends and associates in the industry. (Which is common practice amongst people in the restaurant business.) Whether I receive anything or not has no influence on what I write about.

The restaurant “reviews” on the site are intended for informational purposes since many visitors come to Paris and want to know where to go. For that reason, I rarely mention places in a negative light, simply because I like to believe that everyone in the restaurant business is doing the best they can. Not all succeed, but those who do, I am happy to pass along my experiences when dining there.

Generally speaking, I don’t monitor when restaurants or other establishments move, change hours, and experience personnel shifts and changes. As possible, I do update posts, but I do provide phone numbers and advise calling restaurants and shops for the most recent information.

Cookbooks & Recipe Attribution

I will occasionally write about a cookbook, or adapt a recipe from one. If the book is not already in my collection, on occasion, I’ll receive a review copy from the author or publisher, which is common practice. I don’t review all the books I receive nor do I promise placement or a positive review in exchange for the book.

I follow the attribution guidelines which I wrote about at Food Blog Alliance, which are standard throughout the cookbook industry and amongst food writers.

Amazon

There is never any compensation involved from advertisers in my blog posts. As I am a cookbook author and make my income from sales of my books and will, on occasion, provide links to them, as well as other books available on Amazon.

I do receive a small commission on Amazon sales, but many of the links exist because I get inquiries about the availability of products, and Amazon and its affiliates carry a wide ranges of books, gourmet foods, and cookware that are easily available, often internationally. I personally shop at Amazon and find it to be easy-to-use and reliable. I believe in supporting local businesses as well. But because it’s not always possible to mention that in posts, I assume that readers know best the shopping options available to them in their particular geographical region.

Ad Networks

At the time of writing, I am a member of the Martha’s Circle, the Martha Stewart ad network, which I chose because I they seem to be in line with my personal philosophy about cooking and food. Because ads are automatically fed by her network, I don’t monitor the ads that appear there. I do not allow ads with sound or flash animation that exceeds to parameters of the ad space and if those appear, it’s by accident, and I contact the network to have them removed immediately. For editorial reasons, I prefer to keep a “hands off” policy with the ads, unless something is blatantly offensive.

Similarly, I use Google AdSense, a third-party ad system, which is keyword-based and reacts automatically to the content which is presented on the site. I have no say over the ads that appear and like the ad network mentioned above, for editorial reasons, I like to keep a hands-off policy with those ads.

I can’t monitor all the ads since many are regionally-based and I don’t see the same ones that you might see. So if you find an AdSense ad offensive, click on the “Ads by Google” link adjacent to the ads (not on the ads themselves), and you can register your complaint directly with Google.

Advertising

I do not accept text-link ads, or goods or services in exchange for links or content placement. Messages requesting any of those will be ignored.

One-third of my readers are from outside the United States and I appreciate their understanding when I find life outside of the borders of my home country perplexing. While I welcome diverse opinions and comments on the blog, I do not allow personal attacks in the comments and will delete anything I deem inappropriate.

Any links to commercial sites in the comments, unless related to the post, will be edited or deleted as well.

I strongly believe in honesty of relationship, personal integrity, and trust with readers. I don’t recommend products, whether given to me as gifts or that I’ve purchased, if they’re not something that I would personally purchase and use myself.

The views and opinions expressed on this blog are purely mine. I will only endorse products or services that I believe, based on my expertise, are worthy of such endorsement and not because I’ve received cash in exchange for the endorsement. Any product claim, statistic, quote or other representation about a product or service should be verified with the manufacturer or provider.

Trust with readers is my most important asset and I strive to only recommend products, restaurants, hotels, and travel experiences with my reader’s interest in mind. Maintaining a blog has many facets, including costs associated with web hosting and design, and a considerable amount of time is spent writing content and responding to readers. It’s my intention to share my stories in a humorous manner, not intended to offend, but to highlight cultural differences, entertain, and for informational purposes only.

Last week, when I spoke at the Blogher Food conference, positioned on stage between Ree and Elise, I was sure during the moments when I was going on and on, everyone was biding their time, waiting for me to shut my trap, so they could get back to listening to the other two.

Then I made an announcement that seemed to grab a bit of attention: I said that there were about forty-one blog posts started on my computer, which seemed to get quite the reaction from more than a few of the couple of hundred bloggers in the room. A good portion of those posts will never see the light of anyone else's computer screen. But inspiration strikes me at odd times, and I'll just start hammering away when I think of something to write about. I'm certain I'll get back to it a day or two later, only to never get back to it at all. And now, my desktop is littered with half-written posts and other illiterate detritus.

When I did a reading in Paris a few months back, someone asked me a good question about what are some of the things I'd miss about Paris if I moved away. Which actually made the to the finish line and became a post.

The search ended abruptly Friday night at Nopa.

It's one of my favorite restaurants in San Francisco, and my pal Matt and I decided to have a boy's night out while the planets were aligned and we were both in town at the same time. Even before I saw a menu, I knew I wanted the burger and after a plate of incredibly tasty Padrón peppers (which, if you haven't tried, you should hop on a plane to try right now—and that's coming from someone that dislikes peppers, almost across-the-board) and a couple of Sidecars (Matt's with rum, mine with Armagnac), my burger finally landed. And ho-boy, what a beauty*.

The one thing I crave almost every day is a good burger. Oddly, I rarely ate burgers when I lived in the states. But for some reason nowadays, I just can't get enough. Go figure.

So we went to Serpentine, whose burger was exalted in the virtual world, as well as in print. For some reason, as soon as we sat down, I was craving a cocktail. I haven't had a cocktail in ages since aside from Mojitos, Parisians don't drink mixed drinks.

(I once made Cosmopolitans for my friends and they barely got halfway through the first one without becoming close to falling-down drunk. And when you live in a rooftop apartment, having inebriated people milling around your place—or worse, stepping out on the roof for a smoke, is not really a good thing.)

If you're looking for a simple scoop of chocolate ice cream...or vanilla...or strawberry...you're not going to find it at Humphrey Slocombe in San Francisco.

Okay, you might see one of them nestled somewhere amongst the wacky flavors on the ever-changing list. But you'll have a better chance of finding Fumé (smoked) ice cream, Chocolate passion fruit, and cinnamon brittle. There's a decidedly non-kosher Boccalone proscuitto ice cream, as well as Ancho coffee, Jesus juice sorbet (you don't want to know...), Balsamic caramel, and Secret breakfast, a mixture of milk and sweetened breakfast cereal.

During the next couple of weeks, I'll be in the San Francisco Bay Area doing a few events at bookstores and chocolate shops.

Stop by if you're in the neighborhood(s)—!

September 24: Charles Chocolates: 6-7pm. Emeryville.

September 25: Fog City News: Noon-2pm. San Francisco.

September 26: Blogher Food Conference, San Francisco.

September 28: Omnivore Books: 6 to 7pm. San Francisco.

There's a limited number of each of my book available at each venue. If you wish to reserve or purchase one in advance, or if you have any questions regarding the events or availability, please contact the venues themselves, using the links provided.

A number of you who don't live in the area had asked me about signed copies of my books. If you wish to order one (or more!) and have it sent to you, contact the folks at Omnivore Books, who are happy to send out personalized copies.

Big thanks to Poco Dolce chocolate in San Francisco for providing treats for the event at Omnivore Books, and to Valrhona for providing chocolate samples at Fog City News.

When I was taking pastry classes at Ecole Lenôtre years ago, they had a shop at the school filled with all sorts of great professional baking equipment. Aside from the room where the croissants were freshly-baked (and handed out) every hour, it was my favorite place at the school.

PIled up on the shelf was also a stack of slender books: The A-Z of French Food. I flipped though it and was impressed by how much was in this comprehensive little guide, so I bought one. Since then, I've used it countless times, and it's the book that I inevitably reach for first when I have any questions about French dishes, ingredients, or cooking terms, from the normal, to the obscure.

In fact, I wished I'd had it the week before, when I was sitting in a restaurant and the waiter proudly presented me with a big, steaming cassolette, piled high with tripe. And there I was, thinking that I'd soon be digging into cassoulet, the classic Gascon dish of beans and duck confit. Quelle déception!*

Earlier this week, I woke up in a small town, smelling of something. It wasn't anything bad. In fact, it was pretty good: sweet, caramel-like, and roasted, with a vague, but lingering aftermath of alcohol following it. It wasn't something I was used to, but I'd tasted so many Cognacs this week in the town of Cognac, that it was literally wafting out my pores. And I'm not complaining.

Three days in the region is barely enough time to scratch the surface of this well-known brandy, which honestly, I didn't know all that much about when I was invited to the annual Cognac auction, where bottles worth thousand of euros are bid on by a few lucky (and loaded) individuals.

But the first thing I learned about Cognac, is that it all starts in the barrels at the tonnellerie, or cooperage, where the barrels are made. As I touched on in my post about fresh shelling beans, and several people left their own thoughts in the comments, we're often unaware of what actually goes in to producing the food—and beverages, that we feed ourselves.

For example, I had no idea that it takes three years, minimum, just to make each barrel that's used for aging.

When I applied for my job at Chez Panisse, I'd just left a restaurant where the chef was, what we call, a "screamer". That is, one of those chefs who flips out in the kitchen and yells indiscriminately.

Contrary to what television might lead you to think, this isn't a new, or even trendy, phenomenon. (The other type of chef that cooks dread are the "watchers", the less-telegenic chefs, who stand around and watch everyone else do all the work.)

The job I'd left was the only job that I ever dreaded going to since every day was pretty much a cauchemar (nightmare). So with a bit of trepidation, I asked Alice if she ever yelled, and she said, "Only if I see good food going bad. That makes me angry."

Fair enough—since I agreed.

Whenever I would see someone wasting something precious, like raspberries, or letting them go bad, I realized that those people likely had never navigated the thorny branches to see what goes into picking that pint of those berries. Or spent a few back-breaking hours hunched over in the scalding-hot sun, picking strawberries. So when people complain about the price of berries, I say, "Well, how much would you charge if you have to pick them?"

During my recent book event at the bouquiniste, I met up with Alain Huchet, who sells an extraordinary selection of vintage cookbooks, menus, and gravures, all relating to the pleasures of food and wine.

Naturally, the selection is heavily tilted toward French gastronomy, and I was a kid in a confiserie when I began rifling through the stacks of books. I've seen some extraordinary collections of cookbooks; including a pretty good one I left behind : (

But if I had the space to start up again (and beaucoup de euros), this is where I'd start.

Still, looking is free, and look I did. I'm a sucker for any cookbook dedicated to candymaking, baking, and the pastry arts, especially the old French ones, with their faded colored pictures of giant, dinged-up copper pots, and heavily-sugared candies lined up, glacéed and frosted within an inch (or centimeter, I should say) of their lives.

For my birthday, back in December, Romain presented me with a Kalouga bar from Bernachon, handwrapped personally for me by Denise Acabo of A l'Etoile d'Or, one the best, and wackiest, candy and chocolate shops anywhere in the world.

I've been afraid to open it since I know what'll happen once I do. So I've been saving it for a special occasion, or a WTF moment. And yes, I'm aware that it's a long time, but I guess things have been going pretty well lately.

Well, that is until a recent trip to my bank to simply change the status of my account since I found out I was being overcharged up the wazoo for services I didn't understand or use. (Like, even though she insisted I did, do I really need two free money orders a month? I think the last time I used a money order was in 1998. But I've learned that not speaking picture-perfect French can easily tack on 20-30% to the cost of things.)

The banquière hefted a thick dossier of paperwork so voluminous, it made the Sunday New York Times look like a pin-up flyer for a lost cat. It took my breath away, and I spent an hour and a half going through it and just to get out of there, I signed away whatever it was they wanted me to sign away.

When I got home, that bar was certainly tempting me. And I held off.

But I don't need to hold off any further.

Do you dream of idling away on a sunny beach in the middle of the winter?

Do you want to meet other food bloggers from all over the world?

Do you want to spend your vacation with me?

Ok, you don't have to answer that last one. But if you do, I'm going to be a featured participant at Food Blogger Camp, taking place January 9-16th, 2010.

While camp is in session, each day there will be a seminar by my favorite food bloggers, food stylist, and photographers.

Should you happen to see a ray of sunshine in Paris, if you follow it, chances are pretty good you'll find someone sitting in a café, face-forward, basking in its warming rays. And although unofficial in most of the parks and public places, folks here also like to celebrate the arrival of any good weather with un picque-nique.

Picnicking in Paris can be a dicey proposition, and you must navigate where and when it's okay—and where and when it isn't. Nature is meant to be admired, yes, but only from afar. Like those gorgeous pastries lined up in the shop, you're not supposed to touch, unless permission is expressly granted.

However in the past few years, the rules have become more relaxed and often park guards will look the other way if you whip out a sandwich en plein aire, although I recently saw a team of whistle-blowing guards rousting a group in the place des Vosges that had the audacity to start unpacking their fare on the grass.

This weekend, I'll be having an informal booksigning in Paris.

The event will take place on Saturday, September 12 from 2-3:30pm at A la Boîte bouquiniste, 31 quai de Conti. (Map)

There will be copies of all three of my books; The Sweet Life in Paris, The Perfect Scoop, and The Great Book of Chocolate available.

All I can say is—I hope they work...

Les Chocolats Bernard Dufoux
32, rue Centrale
La Clayette
Tél: 03 85 28 08 10

Also available at:

A l'Etoile d'Or
30, rue Fontaine (9th)
Paris
Tél: 01 48 74 59 55

There is a French term, un glaneur, which describes a person who who glanes. If you don't have any idea what that means, you're not alone. I had to look it up in my French dictionary and there it was, just above the word glander, which they translated as, "to fart around."

There's a heckuva lot of French verbs out there, and I've been trying to learn them as fast as my little brain can absorb them, but that was a new one on me. Would one say, "Je vous glande", or "I fart around you?" I hope not. (At least not around me.)

A glaneur (or glaneuse), is someone who picks or forages for fruits and vegetables. And in fact, there was a well-known film called Les glaneurs et la glaneuse about French people who hunt for food.

When we were recently driving around the Seine-et-Marne, a bucolic region just an hour or so outside of Paris, where we were spending the waning days of summer, we rang the bell of a friend of ours, who unfortunately wasn't in. Yet being the eagle-eyed forager that I am, I fortunately noticed a whole bank of trees across the street, each heavy with branches bearing a multicolored line-up of itty-bitty wild plums that were ripe 'n ready.

You might come across a recipe which calls for the use of sweet apricot kernels, that differ from bitter apricot kernels, which are used as a flavoring agent in jams, candies, pastes, custards, and other baking applications. Europeans and others often use them to enhance jams and jellies, putting a kernel is each jar, which isn't normally consumed. Italians crush them to make the famous Amaretti di Saronno cookies, and Asian markets stock them in their spice aisles.

Anything can be dangerous if used incorrectly; Vitamin A, eaten in very large quantities, can be toxic, some people consider MSG dangerous (others wonder why doesn't everyone in Asia have a headache?), and parsley and chives contain small quantities of oxalic acid, the same thing that makes rhubarb leaves inedible.