I recently went to a fête for my birthday at a friend’s home in the Marais, whose family is renowned for making exceptional French wines. I don’t know a lot about wine, but I know that when combined with certain things, the effect is transcendental. Gougères, or cheese puffs, are one of those things. But really, who are we kidding. They’re an appetizer that goes with everything! They’re…
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,…
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…
In a country where one of the tenets is égalite, there are, believe it or not, some people who are more “equal” than others. It’s one of the less-discussed French paradoxes. No, I’m not talking about the motor scooter drivers who ride roughshod through Paris, bombarding pedestrians on the sidewalks or breaking through traffic, cutting off buses, bicyclists, and generally wreaking havoc in their noisy,…
It’s true that the French have a thing for singers in pain. But Americans aren’t really all that different. They had Jacques Brel and Edith Piaf, and Barbara and Dalida. Bonus points are given if one is so triste that they commit suicide. Which makes Britney Spears ineligible, but we Americans do have Judy Garland. Being French, naturally, Romain worships Judy Garland.
Yet another friend is moving back to the states (woosies!) and she had a going away party last night on one of the bridges over the Seine. Since I’d stashed a few clandestine bags of marshmallows, which were getting a little long in the tooth, I thought it time to use ’em or lose ’em. In fact, they were a prominent staple on my Too…
1. Sell Classeurs The most prevalent fixture in every French home isn’t the gleaming shelf of copper cookware, the bottles of medicaments crammed into every nook in the john, or their collection of books, which the French hold in the same reverence as Americans do their flat-screen televisions and their iPhones. No, it’s the shelf of classeurs, the sturdy, colorful cardboard folders to hold the…
Even though I live in a small apartment, I’m not especially good at keeping it tidy. I’m fairly neat and organized, which is essential when living and working in the same space. But I’d rather spend my time baking brownies than scrubbing sinks, if you can believe it. Jeanne is my housecleaner and she comes every other week. (Except during her eleven-week summer vacation.) The…
I recently read The Pedant in the Kitchen, which Michael Ruhlman also wrote up, and while I found it an enjoyable rant, one vexing thought that stuck in the author’s craw was recipe instructions that call for “a handful” of something. He didn’t know what that meant and wondered why recipes couldn’t be more precise. Writing a recipe that’s acceptable to absolutely everyone can be…
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