Moving!

Hey everyone!

I know I've been totally slacking on posting here, but one of my resolutions is to get better about that.

I've also decided to move my blog to (hopefully) a friendlier format. My new blog can be found HERE.

Hope to see you over there!

Where and What We Ate In Paris

I anticipated eating to the point of bursting while we were in Paris and I was not disappointed. I pretty much wanted to eat everything in sight and just didn't have the time. We also discovered early on that when you go a cafe or restaurant, they get very worried if you don't finish your plate and assume that you didn't like the food. So from that point on we really endeavored to eat everything we ordered unless we were in very real danger of bursting. The French REALLY care about their food, the ritual of eating, and bread and pastry making have been elevated to an art form. This is a listing of restaurants, bistros, brasseries, cafes, and specialty shops that stood out for us.

Le Pain Quotidien

We came here for our daily cafe creme and breakfast almost every day. Their croissants totally rocked. I had my first soft boiled egg here. I now own 2 egg cups and had soft boiled eggs and soldiers for breakfast this morning. This is technically a chain cafe and I believe they may even have locations in the US, but totally didn't feel like a chain at all. And it was a 45 second walk from our apartment, so that was neat.










La Fermette

We were fortunate to be situated extremely close to the rue Montorgueil market street. A market street is typically lined with small specialty shops and will generally include at least one boulangerie (bakery), patisserie (pastry shop), boucherie (butcher shop), poissonerie (fish shop), fromagerie (cheese shop), fruit/vegetable stand, and flower shop along with assorted cafes and brasseries. This little cheese shop was our favorite on the street. They sold plates of assorted soft cheeses for 6 euros and are able to vacuum pack most purchases.



Le Palais du Fruit

It was truly a fruit palace and just a joy to walk by every day. Beautiful melons, bright and sweet strawberries, peaches so perfectly ripe the juices dripped down my chin.









Le Maison Stohrer

Le Maison Stohrer was opened in 1730 by the pastry chef of Louis XV and is one of Paris' oldest pastry shops. The shop itself is even classified as a historical building of Paris and is rumored to be Queen Elizabeth's favorite pastry shop. I wanted to live here. Not only did they have ridiculously delicious pastries and breads, but they also had prepared dishes, salads, pates and terrines that you could take away. Even if we didn't always buy something (because it was more expensive than other pastry shops), we would generally walk in almost every day and just look at what they had to offer that day. Chunky terrine du lapin, oeufs en gelee, escargots, ham carved right off the bone, salmon and leek quiche, not to mention the pastries like the Paris-Brest, mille feuille, eclairs, fruit tarts, macarons, and the baba au rhum. Nicholas Stohrer actually invented the baba au rhum which is a basically a sponge cake soaked in rum. We tried the Baba Chantilly which is the traditional baba topped with whipped cream and strawberries. It knocked us on our ass, frankly. I can appreciate that there are people out there that are devoted to the baba au rhum, but the alcohol was a little too overpowering for us. Nevertheless, a visit to Le Maison Stohrer is a MUST for anyone visiting Paris.




Breizh Cafe

Breizh Cafe is a creperie in the 3rd arrondissement that uses organic ingredients and organic buckwheat flour for their too-delicious-for-words crepes. It's also recommended to partake in their excellent cider in lieu of wine and their cider list is just as extensive as their wine list. We came for an early dinner and managed to sneak in without a reservation. The crepes were so delicious, in fact, that I totally didn't notice we were sitting a mere 2 feet away from Famke Janssen who was also enjoying her crepes with her little Boston terrier. This was also my first experience with French salted butter caramel. Oh. My. God. I'm in love. I need to learn how to make this immediately. And then bathe in it.


L'Ecurie

This restaurant was recommended by our Bike About tour guide and specializes in meat. Steak frites, to be exact. We only visited two restaurants more than once, and this was one of them. It was such a cozy little place and the proprietor was very welcoming, serving us complimentary house sangria as an aperitif. The steak was tender, perfectly cooked and flavorful. The frites were crispy on the outside and creamy on the inside. But the star of the show was the crazy delicious blow-your-mind-its-so-garlicky aoli that arrived with the bread basket. We ended up putting it on everything and even dipped our fries in it. They also serve their house wine by the pitcher and half pitcher. The demi-pichet was perfect for two people and a steal at about 6 euros. In fact, this place is really a hidden gem of value. They also have a prix-fixe 3 course menu for 17 euros with 5-6 options for each course. Add that to the cheap wine, complimentary sangria, delicious food, and complimentary calvados at the end of the meal...what more could you want?



L'Ami Jean

It was fantastic. See previous blog post.


L'As du Falafel

The best falafel I've ever had. L'As du Falafel is located in the Marais which is Paris' Jewish district. The streets are almost impossibly narrow and there is generally always a line outside this place. There's a guy that takes your order while you're in line and then you just hand the slip to the guy in the window who proceeds to bang out your falafel at incredible speed, tossing and stuffing cabbage, cucumbers, eggplant, hummus and yogurt sauce along with crispy, perfectly sized falafel balls. This was actually the other place that we visited twice. It's also a great budget meal coming to a total of 14 euros for 2 falafels and 2 drinks. We took ours to the nearby Place des Voges and hunkered down on a bench with them. Lovely.




Chartier

Chartier has been around since 1896 and was a soup kitchen in the early 20th century. Today, the harried servers still turn out budget priced meals that, while not certainly not fine dining, are definitely satisfying. I had my first escargots here and they were freaking amazing. It took great willpower not to lick the parsley-garlic butter out of the little escargot plate. However, I also had the worst green beans of my life here. Most of the meals we had up to this point had been served with some sort of potato as a side, but generally no other vegetables. Pretty much every restaurant offers salads, either as an additional side dish or entree, but you just don't see vegetables accompanying a main course. At this point, I was craving a green vegetable so badly that I ordered a side of haricots verts a l'anglaise, which I understood to be blanched green beans dressed in butter, salt and pepper. What I got, I think, were green beans out of a can. They were atrocious. It is a testament to my need for green stuff that I actually managed to get several bites of them down. That being said, the beans were really the only bad thing about the meal and it was a really fun dining experience.



This isn't an exhaustive list of everything we ate, mostly just the stuff I took pictures of :) I didn't manage to get photos of the amazing Berthillon ice cream on the Ile St. Louis or of our last meal in Paris at Le Boui Boui. Or any of the jambon sandwiches from Paul. Or the moules mariniere from L'Academie de la Biere (highly recommended, though). Guess we'll just have to go back! But the main thing that struck me about the food in Paris is something that you can't photograph. And maybe this was just me and the euphoria of Paris, but the food tasted more. That's really the only way to describe it. The fruit was sweeter and brighter, the bread was flakier, the butter was richer, the cheese was creamier. The chickens in the butcher case were unlike what you see here in the US with their puckered yellow skin and bluish veins. It made me realize just how processed a lot of food here in the US actually is. And the chicken tasted better too--more earthy, more chicken-y. The French may not have realized that they're not a world superpower anymore nor are they on the cutting edge of food cookery any longer. But they care and they are serious about their food. It's about more than just getting rid of hunger. It's about community, tradition, quality and seasonality. It was love at first sight!

Paris - L'Ami Jean

What can I say about L'Ami Jean? We came to eat here halfway through our Paris adventure and it was far and away the best meal we've had yet and one I'll be thinking about for a long time to come. I had tried to make a reservation here before we left via email and never heard anything back. We happened to be in the area so I suggested we stop by and, at the very least, try and make a reservation for later next week. I had heard this place was notoriously hard to get into so I was not optimistic. However, when we arrived at the unassuming cafe, which was almost hidden under a pile of scaffolding, around 7pm, we were told that we could indeed be seated immediately provided we leave by 9pm. No problemo. We unbuttoned our pants and settled in with a lovely bottle of wine.

What followed was one of the best meals I've had in a long time. We decided to go for the 3 course

prix fixe menu which included a starter (entree), a main course (plat), and a dessert for 35 Euros. I couldn't understand much of the menu, it being in French and all, so I picked just picked some things and assumed they would be good. The waiters were very good natured about it all. Ben knew what he wanted for the main course, but asked the waiter to choose something for him for the starter and dessert and was promised a great surprise.

I still have no idea what I ate for the first course, but it was excellent. Some sort of savoury mousse with bruleed mushrooms on top, mushroom jus and a bright green parsley foam with accompanying toast. I don't even like mushrooms and I ate every single bit. Ben's first course surprise was a mushroom bisque with fresh herbs because, as the waiter said, 'tis the season. Also delicious.

For the main course I chose a filet of duck and Ben chose the "porcelet" which came three ways; a portion of roasted pork, blood sausage and a paper thin wafer of cured bacon. Both main courses came with a celeriac puree which was like mashed potatoes, only better. My duck was lovely, perfectly cooked and served in a delicious puddle of jus, but Ben's dish was definitely the better choice. The blood sausage (or pudding, we're not sure) was like nothing I've ever put in my mouth and the roasted pork literally fell apart as soon as you touched it with your fork.

Dessert, however, blew the rest of the meal out of the water. I ordered "le riz au lait", or rice pudding, hailed by the waiter as the "Best Rice Pudding In The World". I concur. It was served in a gigantic bowl (with its own wooden spoon) along side a fig compote and salted caramel beurre (butter). The rice pudding was spectacular. The salted caramel beurre was revolutionary. Putting the two together in my own little bowl with little crunchy almond bits created such an emotional experience that I almost shed tears right there in the restaurant. It was simultaneously new and familiar and so comforting I wanted to crawl inside the bowl itself and take up residence. I'm not really sure why they even have other dessert offerings, but Ben did have a refreshingly tart citrus mousse with some sort of nut brittle and homemade marshmallows. But the riz au lait really stole the show.

I would recommend this place to anyone coming to Paris, whether for a full meal or just for the Riz Au Lait. You won't regret it!

Paris - Pere Lachaise Cemetery

We started getting into our rhythm today of waking up, heading down to the patisserie and grabbing some croissants and pain au chocolat then sitting and eating at a cafe with some coffee before the day's activities. Which is exactly what we did today before braving the Metro for the first time and making our way to Pere Lachaise Cemetery.

The cemetery is actually quite peaceful and extraordinarily beautiful. Shade trees line the avenues within the cemetery and many of the tombs and gravestones feature amazing sculptures. DO NOT try and navigate the cemetery without a map or guide of some kind or you may never find your way out again.

Our first stop was the Crematorium which contains about 13,000 little niches that house the ashes of the deceased. Navigating the Crematorium has its own challenges since many of the aisle and niche markings have been worn away. We did manage to find the little niche that houses the greatest opera singer of the twentieth century, Maria Callas.






















Next was the resting place of clearly one of the most beloved residents, Oscar Wilde. The modernist angel sculpture was designed by Jacob Epstein and on the other side of the tomb is a short bio of Wilde as well as his epitaph which reads, "And alien tears will fill for him Pity's long broken urn, For his mourners will be outcast men And outcasts always mourn." Flowers and candles adorn the tomb as well as hundreds of kisses.





















I took great comfort in the fact that a small golden-eyed cat, who was completely unperturbed by the cemetery crowds, was watching over the grave of France's Little Sparrow, Edith Piaf. You can see him in the foreground of the picture below.





















You just can't go through Pere Lachaise without visiting the resting place of another beloved and iconic figure, Jim Morrison. The painted bust of Morrison that used to rest on top of the headstone has since been stolen by admirers and a metal fence now surrounds the grave. This was certainly one of the more crowded locations and there were many who were just lounging around, smoking and basking in the presence of The Lizard King.




















In my opinion, one of the most beautiful gravestones was that of Frederic Chopin. The grave is said to always be adorned with fresh flowers, even in the dead of winter. Chopin's body is indeed here, but it is incomplete. Chopin had a terrible fear of being buried alive and his dying wish was that his heart be cut out and preserved in brandy. His request was honored and his heart is now sealed within a church pillar in Warsaw, Poland.


























I absolutely adore the story of Pere Lachaise residents Heloise and Abelard who were at the center of a 12th century scandal. Abelard was a scholar who shocked Paris with his critiques of the Catholic church and Heloise was the daughter of the canon of Notre-Dame. Abelard was hired to be her tutor and, of course, the two fell in love. They fled Paris and secretly married, however once Heloise gave birth to their first child word got back to her father who. was. pissed. He sent a group of thugs to find Abelard and castrate him, which they did. Abelard retired to a monastery and Heloise went to a convent and the two never lived together again. However, the couple kept their love alive over the next twenty years by writing passionate letters back and forth to each other. They are buried together in Pere Lachaise and their tomb was built from stones of both Heloise's convent and Abelard's monastery. Alas, the tomb was undergoing some kind of renovation and was covered in scaffolding, but I took pictures anyway.





















We visited other graves belonging to Gertrude Stein and Collette as well as the memorial tombs of those who resisted the Nazis and perished in the concentration camps. I would post pictures here, but my fingers are getting tired and it's time to go grab a drink at the Brasserie down the street...so maybe later. Tomorrow morning we're doing a Bike About Tour of Paris and we're really excited to see more of the city! More adventures to come!

A Lesson in Botulism

Well. That could have been very, very bad.

I had planned to make a fabulous dinner of homemade spaghetti and meatballs and, of course, take pics and write up a blog about it. Did not go as planned.



I made the meatballs first and had them all set out just waiting to get pan fried. They were so pretty! The next step was to make the sauce. I had one can of whole peeled tomatoes already in the pantry and had bought one today at the store. You have to puree the tomatoes and then put them in a large saucepot with onions and seasonings, etc. My food processor isn't big enough to handle two cans so I opened the one I had bought at the store first. Everything went smoothly and into the pot it went. When I got to the can that had been in my pantry, I noticed the top of the can was puffed up. Some of you may already know where this is going. As I started opening the can, it literally exploded! Tomato juice spurted everywhere! It was on the cabinets, floors, countertop and me. I actually giggled thinking it was great fun that I showered my kitchen in tomato juice. I went ahead and pureed the tomatoes (which smelled and looked just fine) and put them in the pot with the rest.

It had been simmering for about 20 minutes when I went in to tell Ben about what I called "The Great Tomato Explosion" thinking he would get a kick out of it. He did laugh at first and then, being the genius he is, said, "Isn't that a sign of botulism?"

Me: Ummmm, I dunno. Is it?
Ben: I think so.
Me: No, I think it's only cans that are dented.
Ben: Are you sure?
Me: No. Let's look it up.

And sure enough, I found this passage on the USDA website relating to canned goods:

"NEVER USE food from containers that show possible "botulism" warnings: leaking, bulging, or badly dented cans; cracked jars or jars with loose or bulging lids; canned food with a foul odor; or any container that spurts liquid when opening. DON'T TASTE SUCH FOOD! Even a minuscule amount of botulinum toxin can be deadly." --Food Safety and Inspection Service, USDA

I did not add the bold print. That is exactly how it was written. Shit.

Now I'm thinking that I think I may have gotten a little on my lip or maybe even licked some off my finger. But I don't know. Was that from the first can or the second can? Oh my God, I can't REMEMBER!!!! And why don't I know this about puffy cans and botulism?!?!? I should know better, right?!?!

After wrapping up the meatballs for another day, I proceeded to disinfect/wash any item or surface that the death liquid might have touched. My entire pot of beautiful yet now infected sauce went down the drain. We ordered pizza. And I think Ben will remind me of this day for quite some time.

Blackberry Cobbler? Yes, please!

I have fond memories from my childhood of visiting my grandmother in east Texas, picking dewberries, and then having my grandmother's friend/housekeeper/cook, Rene, turn out a so-delicious-I-can-hardly-believe-it dewberry cobbler. I had the day off from work today and had a hankering to cook up some classic Americana. So, along with burgers and potato salad, I decided to make cobbler. While dewberries are not really available in stores, blackberries are really close relatives. You can pretty much use any fruit you want, though.

Also, Rene made her cobbler with rolled out dough arranged in a lattice design. That's waaaay to artistic for me, and I actually like the aesthetic of this method better. It's more cobbley.

Anyway, let's get to it!

(I apologize in advance for the poor quality of these photos. I don't have very good light in my kitchen)

Get yourself about 1 1/2 lbs. (24 oz) of blackberries and give them a good rinse. Transfer to a large bowl.

Hello my darlings!


Pour 1/2 cup sugar, zest of 1 lemon and about 1-2 Tablespoons of lemon juice (juice of 1/2 lemon for those folks who aren't into measuring) over the blackberries. Give it a good stir...this will help the blackberries to start releasing their juices.




Next, we make the dough. Mix together 2 cups all purpose flour, about 1/4 teaspoon salt, 1 Tablespoon baking powder and 1 Tablespoon sugar.




Toss in 1/4 cup Crisco (that's right, I said Crisco) and 4 Tablespoons butter.




Using a pastry cutter, fork or two knives, start cutting the Crisco and butter into the flour mixture until it resembles coarse meal. This will take a few minutes and will require some elbow grease. Just be patient.



Once you kinda come into the home stretch, I dispense with the pastry cutter and just use my hands. That way you can really feel when it's done.

It should look something like this.




In a separate bowl, mix together 1/2 cup milk and 1 egg. Pour the egg/milk mixture, kinda slowly, into the flour mixture.




Mix in wet ingredients using a fork, your hands, or whatever mixing tool floats your boat. The end result should be a fairly sticky dough.



Back to the blackberries...pour those delicious beauties into a baking dish making sure to scrape all the sugary juiciness from the bowl into the dish as well.




Drop little clumps of dough over the berries until they're covered. It doesn't have to be fancy so don't go measuring out the clumps or anything. Irregular fingerfuls will do just fine. Shift them around and nestle in more clumps as needed and don't forget the sides and corners of the dish! If you don't use all the dough that's okay too.




Pat the clumps down just a teeny bit and sprinkle with more sugar. I used about 1 1/2 Tablespoons.



Bake in a 425 degree oven for about 30 minutes, or until golden and bubbly.

The result is a summer berry wonderland covered in a sweet biscuity topping!

Goodness, gracious. *drool*

To serve, you could just eat it straight out of the dish. I wouldn't blame you. But my recommendation is to spoon it into a bowl and add a few scoops of Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla ice cream.

*Note: If you're going with my recommendation, the Blue Bell ice cream is a MUST. Any other brand just will not do. If you happen to live in a state where Blue Bell is not available.....well...it just won't be as special.

Yes, ma'am! I can't even tell you how excited I was to eat this.

I have to tell you, I've been a little intimidated by cobblers in the past. For some reason, I thought it would be more complicated than it actually was. But it was very simple and straightforward...and only took about an hour to make from start to finish!

Enjoy!

*Cobbler recipe courtesy of The Pioneer Woman

RIP

Michael Jackson
"King of Pop"
1958-2009