Since a number of people have been asking, whenever I ask the bakers who are making flatbreads in Lebanon, specifically what their formula is for they breads they are rolling out (or tossing), I’ll get the same, vague response; “Flour and water..oh, and a little olive oil.” And that’s it, as they continue with their busywork.

While I suspect if I pressed them further, they might admit “Okay, and some yeast or leavening, and perhaps a pinch of salt.” But more than any recipe or baker’s formula, the most important ingredient that goes in to all the marvelous flatbreads I’m discovering in Lebanon: technique.

Continue Reading Saj, Flatbreads and Lebanese Pastries…

Pull up at roadside stand.

Be happy you’re with people who speak Arabic.

Continue Reading How to Eat a Falafel in Lebanon…

Unbelievably, I was able to fit in not just two breakfasts, but two lunches on my first full day in Beirut. After za’atar croissants and puffy khobz, we headed off to Ichkhanian, to watch the bakers rolling out and baking L’ahm b’ajeen.

Continue Reading Another Lebanese Breakfast..and Two Lunches…

Whenever I’m at home, all I want for breakfast is coffee, orange juice, and some bread and butter – and I’m good.

But going to the Middle East, when they start bringing out all the fresh salads, candied fruits and jams (such as eggplant and another made from unripe walnuts, just below) and all sorts of beautiful fresh cheeses and pickles, I am helpless to resist. Well, once I’ve had at least one very strong cup of coffee in me.

Continue Reading Lebanese Breakfast…

I continue to be amused by the debates about food, and who owns what. I think the Chinese might have something to say about noodles being Italian, a recent delivery of Montreal bagels prompted some followers to say that they were happy I have found the true bagel (I think a few Eastern Europeans might have something to say about that…) And coffee may have been perfected to a high art by the fine folks in Italy, but I think Africans and Arabs, who’ve had a long, rich history with the brew, were sipping the stuff before any of us.

Few cultures truly “own” dishes that we think. But I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that I think onion rings were probably born (or at least bred, because I’m sure someone wiser than I knows otherwise) in America. Another thing that is pretty unique to America is Hooters. Well, except for the fact that they have Hooters around the world, including one I saw in Berlin, as well as in Vodičkova, Interlaken (in case you don’t believe me, check out the video), and even in 上海 – although for some reason, they haven’t made it to France.

Continue Reading Hooters Onion Rings…

I was perched on the fence, whether to say yes to staying home to work, and no to Champagne. And, well, I guess I don’t need to tell you that I simply could not fight the battle of the bubbly. And so I headed out for a quick day and night in Reims, where Champagne is made.

Fortunately the city of Reims is just a quick 45 minutes from Paris and I was invited to the region to eat, drink, and, well…I won’t tell you what else I did. But it involved a long, hot, much-appreciated bath, and a rest on the adjacent canapé.

Continue Reading Champagne, Reims, and Veuve Clicquot…

I had kind of a crummy day yesterday. I was invited to a restaurant opening that didn’t go as I had hoped. It was something that was a new concept for Paris, based on something uniquely American. And while people here are very good at embracing “concepts”, I almost felt the need to remind people that having a restaurant and serving food are about: 1) Serving guests, and 2) Having good food. Get those two down first, then everything else is gravy.

My initial clue should have been the people working the door. Their first question was – Who was I writing for? And then, Where was I going to place my article about them? (They seemed pretty disinterested that I had a blog…um, #egoshrinker) So after spending close to an hour sitting there, waiting, and watching the attractive young women next to me get their table set up with bread and different spreads, I decided to split because I had other things to do – namely, eat. So I stopped at Kayser bakery, picked up a loaf of levain bread and went home to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich.

(Interestingly, as I was leaving the other place, I ran into chef/owner Gregory Marchand of Frenchie who I told about my experience and I could see he felt my pain. Then mentioned he’ll be soon making similar items, and I was happy to know that I will at some point soon, I will be able to get my fix at his place.)

Continue Reading The best 5 euros I’ve spent in Paris…

Okay, show of hands – who likes guacamole more than I do? Okay… Now that that’s settled, who was more thrilled that I was to score a batch of freshly fried tortilla chips and a big bag of just-about ripe Haas avocados this week?

I’m not asking any more questions, I promise. Because the answers were right here in my kitchen. Although what some people might not know if that the French like guacamole (and chips) as much as I do. So much so that a local Mexican restaurant named after the famed dip had to add an accent on the final é so people would pronounce the entire word (the last part of French words usually aren’t pronounced), rather than say guac-a-mole, which sounds more like a Mexican carnival game than the most delicious thing you can dip a chip into.

Continue Reading Guacamole…