Results tagged French from David Lebovitz

1. Mes 4 Croissants Poppin’ fraîche has gone global and even with over 1200 bakeries in Paris, why would anyone bother walk all the way across the street to get a fresh, buttery croissant in the morning, that only costs 90 centimes, when you can simply unroll a package of doughy crescents and never slip out of that comfy peignoir de bain? For all you…

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    Fouquet is one of my favorite shops in Paris. I’m absolutely addicted to the thin crisps of spice bread enrobed in dark chocolate as well as to the house-made pâtes de fruits and the coconut-filled rectangles cloaked in chocolate. And, of course, the caramelized almonds, too. It’s rare to find a shop still making candies the old-fashioned way and I thought it would…

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There are two things hard about living in France. The first is ….well, let’s not get into that today. The second is getting recipes from French women. It’s not because they closely guard their secrets, but it’s because they frequently use recipes as guidelines rather than making them by rote. So if you ask a question, the response is often—”Because that’s always the way I…

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I had a wee bit of a dilemma recently. In my refrigerator was a half-jar of crème fraîche, that I had to use up before I left for a recent vacation on the beach. I’d been thinking about making caramels with it, but I also knew that I would be slipping on a swimsuit within a few weeks. And being alone in my apartment with…

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I’m sure I’ve caused more than my share of near automobile accidents when I see a signpost by the edge of a road pointing towards a brocante or Depot Vente. After slamming on the brakes, I do a San Francisco-style U-turn, backing up to head into the parking lot. (The week I moved to San Francisco, my roommates, who were natives, told me; “Whenever you…

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There’s a misconception that the French don’t eat junk food. While it’s true that the drugstore shelves around here are lined with, of all things—drugs, there are some foods around that don’t quite fall into the high-fallutin’ AOC category elsewhere. It’s become commonplace to see teenagers swilling la Coca from plastic liter jugs on the sidewalks and it’s not unusual to see a Parisian toting…

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A few months ago I was having drinks at a friend’s house up by the Place des Fêtes, outdoors on their patio, and I noticed something tucked away in the corner. Me: “Hey! What’s that?” Them: “What’s what?” Me: “That! Over there…in the corner. Is that what I think it is? Oh my God!” Them: “Oh, yeah, that. We put it in about fifteen years…

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An American pal said to me the other day, “The French like carrot cake. You just can’t tell them what’s in it first.” Indeed, I remember making an all-American dinner for some friends and when I’d mentioned “carrot” cake coming afterward, the look on their faces was like, “WTF?” One mouthful, and of course, they loved it. But then again, you could slather cream cheese…

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When I was in Méribel avoiding the steep slopes waiting in line at the cheese coopérative, I wasn’t alone: the joint was seeing more action than all those gasp-inducing ski runs. And just about every person ordered a nice hunk of Beaufort. And since they were in front of me in line, being France, of course each person had to have a 5 minute conference…

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