Food for Thought

Still here, I promise!

2007-11-06T05:36:00.000-05:00

I know, I've been a bad blogger. You've all emailed me for updates, wondering when I'd post more here. I know!

Things have been busy around here. Intermediate Cuisine is coming to an end, and I haven't posted a single photo! I've been to Prague and Lisbon and Bruges, and haven't had a second to write about any of those trips; and more trips are coming up! You need to hear about the Thanksgiving I'm cooking at the corner bistro, and the rugby party at that same bistro I cooked for! And I've had some amazing visits from home, with more in a few weeks. Life's a whirlwind here in Paris. But it's fun!

But yes, I'm here; I'm happy; and I'll write more soon. Now I've got to go make bouillabaisse...

The rest of Basic Cuisine - A Photo Montage (Part IV)

2007-10-09T06:41:00.000-04:00

Alright, y'all. Time for the down and dirty catch-up blog post. I know, it's been over a month. And certain of you keep nagging me to update my public on life in Paris..... but hey, I've been busy! Living life, cooking food, traveling, and hosting visitors. And you expect me to write??

So yes, here comes the update. (And yes, I was technically supposed to come home a month ago. That's true. But I wasn't done. There was more cooking to learn, more living in Paris to do. So I'm here to finish the diploma, and I get back to the States in late December. Really. I promise.)

The last ten days of basic cuisine ... in a nutshell:

Soupe de moules legerement safranee (lightly saffroned mussel soup), cotes de veau grand-mere (Grandma's veal chops ... not my grandma, but perhaps some French grandma!), and fins sables aux pistaches, fraises a l'italienne (strawberries Italian-style with pistachio biscuits -- one of my favorite desserts of the term). This day I learned that I like veal chops when they're not overcooked (and when they're served with mushrooms, onions, and bacon), and the combination of pistachio, strawberry, basil, whipped cream, and mascarpone is amazing.

Huitres chaudes au muscadet (warm oysters with Muscadet), canette rotie aux navets (roast duckling with turnips), souffle chaud au Cointreau (warm orange and Cointreau souffle). Learned that while I love magret de canard, and Peking duck, plain old roast duck doesn't do it for me. And when Andre Cointreau is the owner of your cooking school, you make Cointreau souffles, rather than Grand Marni(er) souffles. Oh well.

Queues de langoustines grillees aux epices, sauce vierge (grillled langoustines with spices, olive oil sauce), gratin de saumon au cresson (salmon and watercress gratin), saute de boeuf Stroganoff, rix aux legumes (beef Stroganoff, rice with vegetables). As I had learned from Mark earlier in the year, langoustines have a tendency to be mealy, and in order to wind up with a couple of good ones, you have to cook lots of extras. I just don't think they're worth it. Give me a grilled jumbo shrimp over a grilled langoustine any day. (Who's from Louisiana? Geaux Tigers!) But this beef Stroganoff recipe? It's going to become a staple, I loved it! And since I've gotten decent at brunoising vegetables, might as well...

Flan de truite, sauce porto (trout flan with port sauce), medaillons des porc charcutiere, pommes Dauphine (pork medallions in charcutiere sauce, potatoes Dauphine), sabayon aux fruits frais gratines (fresh fruit gratin with sabayon). Apparently, it's not a sauce charcutiere without cornichons, as much as I tried to convince Chef it would be better that way...

Gnocchis au fromage a la Parisienne (Parisian gnocchi. I kid you not. I never knew such a thing existed. And don't tell anyone, but I prefer the Italian kind...), poulet saute a l'estragon, bouquetiere de legumes (sauteed chicken with tarragon, and turned vegetable garnish), pommes meringuees, jus de framboise (apples with meringue, raspberry sauce). So Parisian gnocchi are a mixture of pate a choux (the dough used for eclairs, but unsweetened) and potato, cooked and then placed in a gratin dish with cheese to brown. I'm just not into it. Boiled pastry dough? Blech.

I am, however, getting somewhat better at turning vegetables. Still think it's a silly skill, but turns out practice really does help.

Oeufs brouilles au saumon fume (scrambled eggs with smoked salmon), terrine de poisson chaude, beurre blanc (hot fish terrine with beurre blanc), creme bavaroise a la vanille, sauce cafe (vanilla bavarian cream with coffee sauce). I can't wait to visit my parents, and try out my new scrambled eggs techniques with Dad. His scrambled eggs are the best, but maybe I can give him a tip or two from the French chefs! And, fish terrine is shockingly better than expected.

Filets de daurade poeles au fenouil (sea bream fillets with fennel), pintadeaux de loue au chou (guinea fowl with cabbage), rezules au poires (fried pear-filled puffs). This may have been my favorite fish dish to prepare in basic, despite the fact that I don't love fennel (sorry John). I've become decent at fileting daurade, julienning fennel isn't the worst thing in the world, and the dish plates nicely. I found myself hoping I'd get this dish on the final exam (notice the foreshadowing?) Also, pear desserts are fantastic. I've known this since the days of the pear tart at Cahors in Tokyo, and it is still true.

Salade de chevre chaud a la ventreche (warm goat cheese salad with bacon), jambonnette de volaille et son jus au madere, pommes poelees caramelisees (stuffed chicken legs, madeira jus with caramelized apples), mousse au chocolat a l'orange (chocolate and orange mousse). Yum. That's pretty much all there is to say about this day. Oh, except for this -- in order to stuff a chicken leg, you remove the thigh bone, and chop off part of the leg bone, and then push it down so it remains as a handle, but does not extend too far into the meat of the chicken leg, so there's room to put the stuffing. So I did all of this, stuffed the chicken legs, and set off to cook them up. Of course, one of my chicken legs was more artfully stuffed and manchonner-ed than the other, so I had my eye on that one to serve to Chef. But when I picked up the leg to turn in the pan, I had the brilliant idea of picking it up by the bone (to avoid piercing the skin or meat!) -- and pulled the bone clear out of the leg. Apparently I was a little overzealous in my manchonner-ing. But this really was the most beautiful piece, still, so when it came time to plate, I covertly jammed the leg bone back in, and crossed my fingers that Chef wouldn't lift the leg by its bone when he was tasting. (All worked out well.)

Croustade d'escargots aux champignons des bois (snails with wild mushrooms, in a pastry case), pave de sandre, sauce aux herbes, ratatouille (pikeperch steak, herb sauce, ratatouille), magret de canard a l'orange (duck breast in orange sauce). All I'll say is this, thanks to Chef Cotte, I think I've learned the secret to an orange gastrique, and magret a l'orange is definitely on the short list for my first dinner party when I get back to DC.

Carre d'agneau roti persille, legumes printaniers et tomates farcies (rack of lamb with parsley crust, spring vegetables, and stuffed tomatoes), gratin dauphinois (potato gratin), omelette norvegienne (baked Alaska). This is also on the short list for the aforementioned dinner party. Wow. This was our last class in basic, so Chef made enough for us to each have a full meal, and we popped a few bottles of champagne. It was not a bad day.

All that was left was the written exam, and the practical exam (yes, I was nervous; and yes, I got the fennel fish; and yes, it went well). And graduation!

Next post? What we've done so far in intermediate! And travels outside of Paris! And visitors!

The rest of Basic Cuisine - A Photo Montage (Part III)

2007-08-25T14:10:00.000-04:00

Writing these blog entries has been a good refresher on all of the recipes we've learned, which was good, since our final exam was coming up! It was yesterday, and it was actually a lot of fun ... but I'll get to that in due time...

After learning the methods for making various kinds of soups, we turned to more traditional French recipes, and, in general, our demos shifted from three dishes demonstrating similar techniques, to full meals (entree, plat, dessert). This demonstrated the timing and multi-tasking necessary for preparing an entire meal in a given time period. (We're not there yet, though ... in practical we generally just prepared the plat, and occasionally the entree!)

So, lesson eighteen: beignets de gambas, sauce tartare (deep-fried jumbo shrimp, tartare sauce) and souffle au fromage (cheese souffle). You'll all be happy to know that my souffle rose beautifully (although Chef Poupard did help me out a little with getting my egg whites to consistency. I have small arm muscles!) I couldn't help think about the souffle scene in Sabrina ("A woman happy in love, she burns the souffle; a woman unhappy in love, she forgets to turn on the oven.") and wonder what this says about my lovelife ... but I digress ...

In demo, chef also made saute de veau Marengo, pommes a l'anglaise (veal Marengo with boiled potatoes), and clafoutis aux fruits de saison (seasonal fruit clafouti). We learned that veal Marengo is so named because it is the dish Napoleon had the night before the Battle of Marengo (only he had it with chicken, because veal wasn't available - I kid you not!) But did he have it with those heart-shaped croutons??

The next day, we made blanquette de veau a l'ancienne, riz pilaf (traditional veal stew, rice pilaf). Not one of my favorites. Not difficult to prepare, but I'm not much of a stew person...

As a starter, chef prepared saumon cru marine a l'aneth (salmon marinated with dill) -- a nice light accompaniment to the heavy stew -- and for dessert, tarte au sucre (sugar tart). So I didn't go hungry!

But, I was happy to move on to our next class, when we made tournedos grilles sauce bearnaise, pommes Pont Neuf (grilled tournedos with sauce Bearnaise, potatoes Pont-Neuf). Potatoes Pont Neuf are so named because, according to legend, they were fried right there on the bridge. Chef suggested we plate them in a bridge formation, to continue the theme.

A few weeks later, I was able to demonstrate my sauce know-how at dinner at Hot el Costes ... after tasting Matthew's bearnaise (and amusing him by wanting to taste the sauce unadulterated by the steak it accompanied!), I subjected him to a discussion of how I'd improve it (it was missing acidity and flavor ... so a better vinegar/wine/shallot reduction). I think he realized at that moment just how much of a food geek I am!

That same day, Chef also demonstrated how to make flamiche (leek tart), and parfait glace au cafe, sauce caramel et cognac (frozen coffee parfait with a caramel and cognac sauce). Our degustations keep getting better and better!

The rest of Basic Cuisine - A Photo Montage (Part II)

2007-08-21T04:09:00.001-04:00

Onward and upward. Les poissons, les poissons, how I love les poissons! Fileting a fish is not so easy, although I've definitely gotten better at it over the weeks. My first filets (on day TWO!) were small ... but this is definitely a skill where practice makes, well, maybe not perfect. But better.

We learned how to poach fish in a court-bouillon, making troncons de colin poche, sauce hollandaise (poached hake steaks with hollandaise sauce). (But don't be fooled by how easy that sounds ... we turned THREE different vegetables that day!) We also learned how to braise fish, making filets de barbue duglere (brill filets in white wine sauce). Brill is a flat fish, and is a beast to filet -- there are two filets on each side, and finding precisely where to cut is challenging. Also a challenge for some of my classmates? The sauce! This was the first time we didn't pass our sauce through a chinois before serving (because the sauce is supposed to have the perfectly cut tomatoes, onions, and shallots that have been cooking in it), but a few of my classmates strained their sauces out of habit ... all that hard work in the trash!

Chef also made sole meuniere (pan-fried sole with nut-brown butter), goujonnettes de sole, sauce verte (breaded strips of sole, green sauce), and escalope de saumon a l'oseille (salmon escalope with sorrel). After a couple of weeks of meats, we were all happy to be eating a little lighter! (And yes, I realize that fried fish really can't be called light ... but in comparison to some of the other dishes we've been cooking and preparing, it's downright healthy eating!)

Next up? Soups. Day one was creme dubarry (cream of cauliflower soup), potage cressoniere (watercress soup), bisque d'etrilles (crab bisque). My least favorite of the three was the bisque (Anne and I decided it's because we're used to wonderful Maryland crabs, and this is one thing that the U.S. does better than France!), and unfortunately, that was the one we made in practical. This marked my first experience in cleavering live crabs, and it was actually pretty fun. Except, of course, the fact that when your knife lands in the middle of the still living crab, its claws reflexively move up to cling to the sides of the knife. A little disconcerting. (Sadly, when I excitedly related my crab-cleavering stories to a friend from home, he responded that he has crab-cleavering duties every summer when his family makes crab sauce. There goes my unique and entertaining story!)

The next day, we learned how to make soupe de poisson facon marseillaise (fish soup Marseillaise-style) and soupe a l'oignon gratinee (French onion soup). Fish soup just isn't my thing, but the onion soup was fantastic. (Are those three bowls all for me? Don't I wish!)

Next we learned how to clarify a consomme. I had no idea how fun and rewarding this would be! Maybe it's my science-y brain, but learning how and why egg whites work to clarify bouillon, and then actually making it happen was one of the most satisfying moments I've had here so far. (And it didn't hurt that my brunoise of carrots, daikon, haricots verts, and celery to garnish the finished product was lovely! Hooray for sharp knives and sharpening knife skills!)

More to come ...

The rest of Basic Cuisine - A Photo Montage (Part I)

2007-08-20T09:56:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was our last practical class in Basic Cuisine - time has really flown. And I'm realizing I'm weeks behind in showing you all the delicious dishes we've been making. So now, a photo montage, picking up where I left off...

We learned to make forcemeats (stuffings) by making paupiettes de veau bourgeouise (stuffed veal rolls with glazed vegetables) and supremes de volaille farcis, sauce et champignons (stuffed chicken breasts, sauce and mushrooms). Much to my surprise, these were two of my favorite dishes, both to make and to eat! I liked them far more than the additional forcemeat dish Chef Clergue demonstrated, terrine de canard aux pruneaux et l'Armagnac (duck terrine with prunes and Armagnac). Turns out I just don't like Armagnac.

Next was rabbit day. Ah, rabbit day. This was the one animal I was less excited about butchering (and it's the one dish I'm hoping isn't on my practical exam at the end of the week!) Rabbits arrive with their heads (but sans floppy ears, thank goodness), frozen in what appears to be their last hop.

Good times. So after beheading my bunny, removing its entrails, and sectioning it, I wound up with lapin a la moutarde, pommes sautees a cru (rabbit with mustard, sauteed potatoes). A dish I've always enjoyed, but somehow couldn't bear to eat as leftovers that night...

That same day, Chef showed us how to make artichauts poivrade a la Grecque aux legumes printaniers (poivrade artichoke Greek style with spring vegetables) and petits pots de creme vanille, the et caramel (vanilla, tea, and caramel custards). I have to say, I found it a little weird to be prepping whole carrots the same day I was beheading a rabbit ... poor Bugs.

Next installment? Basic techniques for cooking fish and making soups.

Dinner Parties!

2007-08-15T18:48:00.000-04:00

Today was a national holiday in France, so Le Cordon Bleu was closed, and my classmates and I decided it was time to have a little dinner party! I spent the morning flipping through the cookbooks I have here, trying to come up with a recipe whose ingredients I could find at the only market open today! I decided on sweet pea gnocchi, despite the fact that I've never made gnocchi before, and certainly not in a Barbie doll-sized kitchen like those we have here in our Paris apartments!

But that idea was feeling a bit flat to me, until I remembered a phenomenal dish I had in the spring at Customshop, in Charlotte, North Carolina. It was a squid ink pasta with chilis, crab, and peas ... but the key to the dish was mint, chopped to a powder, and mixed into the pasta dough. I love the combination of fresh peas and fresh mint, so this seemed like a winning idea to me, if only I could pull it off.

The good news? I pulled off the flavor. The bad? Gnocchi texture is tough to get right, and my first venture into gnocchi-making was, although not entirely unsuccessful (everyone had seconds!), not entirely successful either. But look how pretty and green!

We also enjoyed a lovely tomato, mozzarella, and basil salad with homemade pesto, and butter chicken (courtesy of Amit's secret family recipe)! And ice cream for dessert. One of these days my pastry friends are going to step up and make a delicious dessert for a dinner party ... until then I'll just have to settle for snaring leftovers at school!

*****

This was the second dinner party we threw this week! Monday was our written exam in Basic Cuisine, and a few of us got together Sunday afternoon to study our hundreds of vocabulary terms, and dozens of recipes, sauces, and proportions. (How much roux for a liter of Sauce Supreme? How about for Blanquette de Veau? What's in a bechamel? Bearnaise? Hollandaise? Albufera? Define monder ... detrempe ... abattis.) But what kind of culinary school students would we be if we didn't bring food?!

Anne and I threw together some apero -- bruschetta with tomatoes, basil, mozzarella, and olive oil; asparagus with roasted red peppers and olive oil; and watermelon with feta, basil, and lime juice. Do you detect a theme? (No butter!!) See the excitement on the face of an LCB student when she gets to use olive oil, and not butter!

I was in charge of the chopping (as we were cooking in Anne's kitchen, so I was her sous...), so here I am (LCB hat and all) preparing a tomate concasse.

It wasn't just apero, though ... Alexandra prepared cod Duglere, atop a healthy bed of spinach. What's this? A meal in Paris without a potato to be found? Shocking!

Of course, the whole point of the evening was to study, not just to cook, so here we are, studying...

It wouldn't be studying without a glass of pink bubbly, now would it? I'm pretty sure we all passed, we were just celebrating early!

Visitors, take deux

2007-08-07T17:22:00.001-04:00

Oh, how I love having visitors.

This morning, my friends Kristen and Todd arrived, and not a day too soon, as I'd been having a little bit of a low time lately. There was some loneliness, despite a couple of amazing trips (soon, updates on London and Burgundy, I promise!), and I was in real need of some hugs from home. Enter Todd and Kris.

We had the most lovely day! First, their plane landed on time, and all of their luggage arrived with them. I've never heard of such a thing at De Gaulle!! My phone rang when they arrived at their hotel -- "breakfast?", Todd asked. "But of course," I replied. And off we went for their first cafe creme et croissant experience.

Seeing friends from home is such a wonderful thing. As much as I love being here, there are definitely times when I miss being around people who've known me for longer than a few months, people who I laugh and joke so easily around, people who run across Boulevard Saint Germain to give me a hug. And today was a day full of that laughing, joking, running, and hugging.

After breakfast and a couple of peeks at various patisseries in the neighborhood, we set off for a walk along the Seine. My job today was to keep them awake, so they could beat jetlag. So we set off on a march through Paris. Walk along the Seine, through the Tuileries, to the Champ de Mars ... we lunched at la Fontaine de Mars, recommended to me by the Michels at my regular haunt, Bistrot du Coin, in Washington. After a tasty lunch (other than the dessert, a very disappointing peach soup), we wandered off through town, eventually winding up back at Fish la Boissonerie for a drink (where we saw the owner, who we recognized from lunch at la Fontaine de Mars -- sometimes Paris can be so small!); then the original Cosi for another drink; and then a lovely little bistro just off of rue Princesse for dinner (my filet du bar with cumin cream was lovely). A nutella and banana crepe was a perfect ending to the night, and I can't wait til tomorrow!

Ratatouille!

2007-07-31T18:50:00.000-04:00

I'm sure you're all on top of this, as it came out in the States a month ago, but if not ...

Go see Ratatouille!

I went to a sneak preview tonight with some LCB classmates (it opens in Paris tomorrow), and we laughed our way through two hours of great entertainment!

I know I loved it more because I live in Paris; and I know I loved it more because I love food and cooking and food criticism ... but it's great! It captures Paris, it captures professional cooking, it captures French chefs ...

I actually can't wait to see it again, and I never see movies more than once!

Who cares what they're wearing, on Main Street or

2007-07-27T12:12:00.000-04:00

Anyone know where that comes from? I've always loved it, for obvious reasons, and when I happened by Savile Row yesterday, it brought a (fitting, isn't it, if you know the lyric I'm quoting) smile to my face.

(And no, of course that photo isn't in London. It's at Versailles. But I didn't have a picture of me smiling in London!)

So yes, I'm in London for the weekend. And it's been an interesting 24 hours so far! I have to admit that my first couple of hours here made me realize just how much I love Paris. Strolling around London felt nothing like strolling around Paris, and I was really missing my adopted European home's charm. But I went for a long walk regardless, in an attempt to familiarize myself with the city, and wound up at dinner at Maze, on Jarad's recommendation. Maze is one of Gordon Ramsay's restaurants, under Chef Jason Atherton, who completed a stage at El Bulli in Spain. I was expecting it to be good, but probably wouldn't have gone without a trusted recommendation, as I am no Gordon Ramsay devotee (and am generally skeptical of places that are receiving buzz due to popular television shows). Thank goodness I ignored my skepticism.

Because wow. All I can say is wow. I don't have an all-time favorite meal, but if I were making a list of some of my top meals, this one would definitely make the cut.

I settled in at the bar and was greeted by my perfectly friendly and attentive, yet not overbearing, bartender. "Care for an aperitif? A glass of champagne or a cocktail?" Yes, but what to have? I'm not a champagne fan, so thought I'd start with a cocktail, but wasn't really in the mood for my usual gin and tonic. So I asked for a suggestion, and the bartender came up with a Reformed Negroni - Miller's gin (reformed, apparently, because it uses Icelandic water), apricot brandy, Punt e Mes (dry red vermouth), citronge, and orange bitters. It was delicious, and I now know that I like my bitters diluted with gin (unlike a friend who won't drink negronis, because he doesn't like to dilute his gin with bitters!)

I sipped my tasty beverage as I perused the menu, comprised of two pages of small dishes meant to be ordered tapas-style, and another two pages of more traditional appetizer/entree dishes. I opted to order tapas-style, of course, so I could sample as many different dishes as possible, and immediately regretted that I was alone, because it was so difficult to narrow my choices down! After soliciting recommendations from the bartender, I made my decision.

First dish off the blocks was described on the menu as roasted Orkney sea scallops with Yorkshire ham, egg, and peas. I thought I'd never taste scallops that could rival those of Tom Power at Corduroy, but that day has come. The scallops at Maze were perfectly roasted, still barely cooked in the center, and garnished with rounds of potato cut to mimic the scallop shape, a sunny side up quail egg, pea puree, and a drizzle of a ham reduction. The dish worked well regardless of what combination of its parts you got in each bite -- I know, because I sampled all of the permutations.

Next, I turned to marinated beetroot, Sairass cheese, pine nuts, and Cabernet Sauvignon dressing. Sairass (a sort of ricotta/sheep's milk cheese) and a piece of marinated beet were sandwiched between two paper-thin slices of bright red beet, sprinkled with chopped pine nuts, garnished with microgreens, and drizzled with a Cabernet Sauvignon reduction. This was a flavor explosion -- it was sweet, creamy, and salty all at the same time -- I've had the classic beets and cheese combination a thousand times, and I always love it, but this rendition took it to a higher elevation. I couldn't help but think of my Dad at this point, because he would love this dish (and would love that I love it, since I used to wrinkle my nose in disgust when he ate borscht!)

Now it was time for another beverage selection, and my bartender brought me a glass of Alsatian Gewurztraminer, telling me it would pair well with the foie gras in my next dish. I took a sip before my dish arrived, and it was nice, but oh-so-much-better when I sipped it with ...

Honey and soy roasted quail with Landes foie gras and spiced pear chutney. This was amazing. If I ever return to Maze, I will find it hard to avoid ordering this, even though I want to try other flavors on the menu. This was like a sweet and savory duo of quail, as half of the quail was atop the pear and raisin chutney, and the other half beneath the seared foie, which was topped with a melange of chives, coarse salt, and crushed pepper (all the same size, I might add ... I notice knifework a lot more these days, and chives chopped to the size of coarse salt was a thing of beauty). But this was more than just precision knifework -- the flavors and textures were sublime.

My final savory dish was one from which my bartender tried to steer me, but I didn't listen. And while it was good, it didn't reach the heights of my other choices. I ordered Duart salmon, squid paint, micro squid, Kentish peas, and maple-roasted chicken skin -- I was intrigued by the combination of ingredients, all of which I love. This dish was good, and had I tasted it before the others, it might not have disappointed me. But after the amazing combinations I had already enjoyed, this one just didn't come together. Each part was cooked beautifully, but the combination didn't gel. (I did, of course, love that the peas had been cooked with mint. Fresh peas with fresh mint has got to be one of my favorite things about spring and summer.)

Next up? Dessert! Of course. I briefly entertained the idea of having a cheese plate and then dessert, but knew I probably couldn't make it through both, so I decided on Madagascan vanilla rice pudding, rasperry and lemon thyme jam, mascarpone and pecan ice cream. My choice met with the approval of my bartender, who enthusiastically told me that was "heaven in a dish". Really?

Really.

It's as if this dessert was made for me. A dish of rice pudding, specked with vanilla, topped tableside with a scoop of mascarpone pecan ice cream, a few candied pecans, and a light drizzle of thin caramel sauce. I momentarily wondered where my raspberry and lemon thyme jam was, but when I sunk my spoon to the bottom of the dish I found it, hiding there. I'm pretty sure I have no better words than my bartender's -- "heaven in a dish".

I knew at this point that mignardises were coming (and was unsure how exactly I was going to pop three more morsels into my mouth!), but I didn't know that before that, my bartender would scoot around the bar, pick up my purse, and ask me if I'd like to follow him back into the kitchen to see the inner workings and meet Chef Atherton. Um, of course! So we walked back and into the kitchen, where I saw a well-oiled machine at work. Twenty-five cooks on the line at any one time, with Chef Atherton in the middle, able to see everything at once. As the chef explained to me (while reviewing and okaying each dish as a cook brought it to him, before it went out to service), he redesigned the kitchen, removing all pillars and obstructions, so he would be able to see every part of it from his station. (A nice side effect is that the entire kitchen is viewable from the chef's table, where a lucky group of six was enjoying a meal.) Getting a glimpse behind the scenes, and a chance for a quick chat with the chef, was an exciting benefit to eating at the bar and befriending my bartender!

Back at the bar, I enjoyed my mignardises, a baked Alaska lollipop (pineapple sorbet topped with a lightly browned meringue), a basil-infused chocolate truffle, and a rose Turkish delight. I was full, happy, and ready to return to my hotel.

When I got back to my room, I sent a quick email: "Just had an amazing meal. Amazing." And proceeded to fall asleep, and sleep like a baby, my first good night's sleep in about a week. Absolute relaxation. That, as much as anything else, is the sign of a really good meal, no?

Catching up...

2007-07-25T18:39:00.000-04:00

Wow, I am weeks behind on updating you guys on what we've been learning to cook at LCB! I guess Jackie's prediction that I'd be too busy having fun to blog is coming true! So let's catch up...

(I'm not even really in the mood to blog today. Am fighting off a cold and feel a little foggy. But I got an email from a friend asking me to post ... and since she could really use a smile today, I'm writing. Anything to distract her and make her day a little better...)

So, let me tempt you all with the food we've been cooking here in Paris!

A few weeks ago, we manned the grill for the first time. Unfortunately, it was to make grilled salmon. I'm sure it was quite good, as far as grilled salmon goes, but I'm a "the rarer the better" girl when it comes to salmon -- wave it near the heat and onto the plate it goes. So tossing a salmon steak on the grill for a few minutes was sort of like heresy to me. But I did it, and chef even commented on how good my grill marks were! (Yes, dad, they were on the bias...) The fish was served with an emulsified butter/chive sauce (underneath, never on top of, the fish -- show off those gorgeous grill marks!) and spinach.

We also made pommes Byron that day -- shown here with the roasted herb-crusted pork the chef made in demo -- a tasty little well of potatoes filled with bechamel sauce and gruyere, and baked. These were delicious (although I think I'm still a purist and would be just as happy with pommes purees) ... and even better reheated later in the week! In fact, my first dinner guest loved them when I served them that night, along with roast chicken and turned artichokes!

Funny story about the pommes Byron ... their shape is achieved by filling a piping bag with your potato mixture and piping the potatoes into a well (to be filled with bechamel and cheese). I had never used a piping bag before, and was having a bit of a hard time getting any control over where the potatoes were going on my parchment paper! Chef came over, took one look, and asked "gauche, ou doit?" When I told him I was right-handed, he laughed, and switched my piping bag to the correct hand. Sure enough, I got more control over it when I was using my dominant hand! (Melina, you have my permission to laugh and make fun of me...)

By the way, that was a great day in demo, because not only did we get to sample the salmon, spinach, pork, and potatoes, but Chef also made dessert. My sister's favorite (and boy, would she love this recipe ... I know what I'll be making the first time I visit in San Antonio, although maybe Josh can make the ice cream)!

So much more to write, but this is a good start, right? Maybe I'll regale you all with stories from forcemeat week later tonight...

Well, it seems like the sunny days, they're back again

2007-07-19T14:09:00.000-04:00

No class today, and sunny and warm outside? This was a combination I had to take advantage of, so I woke up early this morning and went for a long walk through the city (after a quick coffee and croissant on the Seine, of course). It was a gorgeous day, and I wandered by the Musee d'Orsay, which I remember being one of my favorite museums from my last visit to Paris. I'm a little museumed-out after Amsterdam, so I decided to save that for another time.

Walked through Espace Pierre Cardin, and by the Grand Palais, built for the 1900 World's Fair (along with the Palais de la Decouverte and the Petit Palais).

Continued down Avenue Rapp, passing a building with a gorgeous art nouveau facade, and a few blocks away, passed by the restaurant we're going to tomorrow evening to celebrate a bunch of classmates' July birthdays.

By this time, I was getting hungry, so I stopped into a boulangerie to pick up a sandwich (and some caneles for dessert, I couldn't resist!). My picnic (and reading material):

My locale:

As an aside, this book is fantastic and anyone who has ever lived in Paris or wanted to should read it. I picked it up on the advice of my favorite source of book recommendations, and it was later mentioned to me by a few other trusted sources. I'm tearing through it, and loving it more with every passing page.

Interestingly enough, the section of the book I was reading over lunch referenced a culinary bookstore located just a few blocks away, so when I was done with my picnic, I headed over there to browse. Stopped into a lovely tea shop down the street, and then wandered over to Rue du Bac, a shopping street that ends at the Bon Marche and its Grande Epicerie. On my walk home, I decided I'd make dinner at home today (cobbling together some leftovers and some new stuff), so stopped along the way for groceries.

Now it's time to make dinner -- consomme with savory puff pastries, spicy burgers, and some leftover caneles from lunch. (I've been snacking on my apero of chevre on a raisin/hazelnut ficelle and a lovely glass of red wine as I wrote this.) Lesson #1: When a steak knife is the best knife you have in your flat, perhaps you should reconsider your plan to dice an onion.

Amsterdam, briefly

2007-07-16T18:36:00.000-04:00

Just got home from Amsterdam, and I have so many wonderful food experiences to write about! For now, though, all I have is this -- until this weekend, I had never been somewhere where the Holocaust is such an integral part of the place's history and identity, and it was a lot to process. Even more because it hit close to home.

The Night Before Bastille Day

2007-07-14T10:49:00.000-04:00

Twas the night before Bastille Day and all through Par-ee
LCB students were primping for their big sortie.

Reservations were made for the team dinner;
Le Boeuf sur le Toit was chosen (not really a winner!)

No chef's whites, no aprons
No cuts, burns, or spills
Tonight we wore makeup, and dresses with frills.

We ate and we drank and we chatted and laughed
until our numbers had dwindled by half.
"There must be better places to be, let's move on," we called!
"Why don't we go to the pompiers bal?"

The firemen open their houses each year
to revelers coming, all in good cheer.
There's music and dancing and all sorts of fun,
but perhaps it would be better were we only 21.

So on we went after surveying the crowd
to a nearby bar where the music was loud.
But not music for dancing, no that would be wrong;
this was music for singing along!

A karaoke bar we found right down the street
and some of us got into it, keeping the beat.
Pierre sang a French song, Anne sang a ditty;
Claudia and I were pop stars, and Amit rocked Paradise City.

But after a few it was time to change venue
to a club with less singing, a more mellow menu.
There we stayed for one more drink
until I said "I've got to go, I think.
It's a quarter to three and it'll be a real pain
to wake up at six to catch my train!"

Thus ended my night before Bastille Day this year,
eventful enough that I won't shed a tear
to be missing the festivities -- parades, fireworks, and crowds;
instead I am thrilled to be Amsterdam-bound!

(My apologies. Poetry was never my strong suit.)

A rose by any other name ...

2007-07-13T05:26:00.000-04:00

So, I have stories ... I do! About butchering a rabbit, fileting a brill, experiencing my first snotty French service, day-tripping to Chablis and Versailles ... but for now, a photo of my breakfast this morning.

The saint-honore rose framboises at Laduree. Hey, a girl's allowed a treat every now and then, right?

Cardiovascular advice from a French chef?

2007-07-10T10:00:00.000-04:00

"It's been proven that duck fat is good for your heart," Chef Clergue told us as he tossed a nice-sized knob of it into a saute pan.

Really?

In that case, what's been proven about daily baguettes and pain au chocolat, Chef? Good to keep you slim....?

It's about the people, part V

2007-07-07T17:46:00.000-04:00

Another year passes, and it's still about the people. It always will be.

So it seems only right that yesterday would be one of the best days I've had in Paris yet. Someone's keeping an eye on me...

I woke up bright and early to finish up forcemeat week (more on that in a later post) and make supremes de volaille farcis, sauce et champignons (stuffed chicken breasts, sauce and mushrooms). Yum! I love this recipe, except for the (you guessed it) turned mushrooms. Later in the day I described it over the phone to my mom, and it seems I've been enlisted to make this upon my return stateside.

We finished class early (thanks to the helpful prodding of Chef Cotte, who likes us to feel the time pressure even when it doesn't exist!) and my classmates and I had a coffee after changing back into street clothes. Sitting with them in the Winter Garden, sipping coffee and comparing notes on the recipe, reminded me that I love being back in school ... I love the camaraderie of it, the constant learning, and the enthusiasm.

I left school and headed across the neighborhood to meet Chris and Carter for lunch at Le Banyan, as lovely the second time as it was the first. Except lovelier, because I had great company with whom to enjoy the food. A couple of new tastes that were delicious? A chicken/lemongrass/coriander sausage, lightly crispy spring rolls, and a spicy homemade ginger tea.

What next in this day-o-fun? A few errands ... a challenging quest to find index cards that, three stores later, ended in success (ever try explaining index cards in a language that's not your own?? les fiches pour ecrir des notes? s'il vous plait??) ... a ten minute review of my options in the laundry aisle of the Monoprix, in an effort to choose a bleach that is most likely to return my whites to, well, white (rather than the veal stock color they seem to have attained in spots) ... and a phone conversation with Mom.

And then it was time to head out to dinner with Adi, to celebrate her completion of the written exam in her intensive pastry course at LCB. I picked Le Timbre, based on the recommendations of a few friends, and Tom Sietsema. And I was enchanted from the moment I walked in the door. As everyone who writes about this place comments, "le timbre" means "the postage stamp", a play on words for the tiny spot that seats only 24 lucky guests. The decor is warm and inviting, with tables so snug that you almost can't help but get to know your neighbors. (More on that later.) The walls are decorated with beautiful black and white photographs, and the tiny one-man kitchen is open to the dining room. Warm decor, black and white photos, and an open kitchen? Yeah, I'm good.

As we settled in, Adi apologized to the server for seeming a bit frazzled, explaining that she had just finished an exam and was still decompressing a bit. "A good meal and wine will help that," the friendly sole server said to us. So true. She brought the menu board over to us and walked away. I began to translate the menu for Adi, since she has the patisserie know-how, but my knowledge of savory food words is better. But as I was translating the first entree, my eyes were already skimming down the menu, and I interrupted myself. "Ooh, I know what I'm getting!" I laughed and went back to describing the entrees, a terrine de campagne, a gazpacho with tomatoes and cilantro, an anchovy tart ... but we both wound up choosing the pea soup, served with lardons and a poached egg. With slices of fresh baguette alongside, this was fantastic. Of course, it's one of my favorite spring/summer dishes so I was unlikely to be unhappy, but the combination of flavors, atmosphere, and company was excellent.

On to the plats. I saw a filet of daurade served with pommes puree that looked phenomenal and almost made me regret my choice; the table next to us was raving about both the boudin noir and the sweetbreads dishes; but we chose pork with fava beans, and duck breast with caramelized shallots. I didn't get a taste of the pork, but it looked delicious, and the fava beans were slightly browned, which I'm sure gave them a great flavor. My duck came out perfectly cooked. And the shallots! I've spent a lot of time in the last four weeks caramelizing onions, and it takes patience to get them perfect. Chef Christopher Wright must be a very patient man, because these were melt-in-your-mouth delicious, and I almost wanted more to spread as a jam on an extra piece of baguette.

If I had one (minor) complaint about our meal, it would be that, for me, Wright's pepper mill might be set to a slightly too coarse grind, as I bit into pieces of pepper in a couple of bites that made the seasoning a little bit off to my taste. But would I return tonight if given the opportunity? Absolutely.

Dessert offerings at Le Timbre are light -- a millefeuille, sauteed cherries topped with creme fraiche, peach compote with shreds of puff pastry, and an English cheese plate (in tribute to the Chef's British heritage). Anyone want to guess which one I had? I do love summer fruit season...

And, in a nice touch, at the end of our meal, our server, who had been pleasantly and efficiently taking care of a room full of patrons, stopped by our table. "Are you more relaxed from your exam," she asked Adi. So kind of her to have remembered, and Adi grinned and responded "absolutely".

**********

About getting to know your neighbors ... around the time we were served our dessert, the woman sitting next to me leaned over. "How're the desserts," she asked. We told her we gave them two thumbs up, and I think she took that as license to chat. Because all of a sudden, we were her long-lost daughters. "Where are you girls from," she asked us. When she learned we were from different countries, she asked how we knew each other. And when we answered that we were both students at LCB, her eyes lit up. "I spent three months studying at Le Cordon Bleu London a hundred years ago! It was the best experience of my life!" After she got the low-down on what we intend to do with our culinary training, and gave us her two cents (probably more like a full dime) on what she thought we should do, I decided I'd turn the table a little bit. "And where are you from? What brings you to Paris," I asked. And wouldn't you know, she was from northern New Jersey, and in Europe on an annual two week bike trip with her cycling club. Mike was in town earlier in the week for an annual two week bike trip with a cycling group, but I quickly verified that they were not on the same trip. Still, what a small world.

**********

After finishing our dinner, Adi and I set out on a walk back through the 6th arrondissement -- the weather was beautiful, and we were still chatting about something or other. About fifteen minutes into our walk, Adi turned to me and asked, "what would it take to get you to agree to stop for ice cream?" So clearly a patissier, as one dessert just did not suffice! Of course I obliged (have I ever been known to pass up dessert?) and we set off to find Amorino, a gelateria located throughout France (and Shanghai). Adi had been before, and I had heard good things. After passing a Ben and Jerry's and a Haagen Dazs along the way, we saw a long line snaking out of a storefront, and knew we had found our destination, and, that on the first warm Friday night of the summer, we were not the only ones with this great idea.

But it was worth the wait -- my cone of bacio (chocolate/hazelnut) and lampone (raspberry) was delicious, and in my opinion, tastier than the Berthillon I had a couple of weeks ago! I'll definitely be back to sample some of the other flavors ...

Le Timbre
3, rue Sainte Beuve
Paris 75006
tel: 01 45 49 10 40

Amorino
multiple locations

Fourth of July, Paris-style

2007-07-05T17:05:00.000-04:00

It's kind of funny, I'm not a big Fourth of July fan generally, but it seemed only right that the LCB expats (mostly Americans, although we did have a Brazilian and a local in attendance...) celebrate in style, going to a traditionally American bar, complete with a special on Bud bottles and American music blaring on the jukebox.

Yeah, just my scene ...

But here's the evidence. Note Anne's t-shirt, expressing a sentiment I thought might be a little much, given politics of the last few years. But we all got home safely!

... enjoying by night!

2007-07-01T13:06:00.000-04:00

So, I've been somewhat remiss in sharing stories of summer fun in Paris. Life isn't all turning veggies and filleting fish, shocking as that may be...

In three weeks here, I've already had two sets of visitors from the States! And they all seem to want to see me the day they arrive -- am I some sort of miracle cure for jetlag? On their first day here a couple of weeks ago, Garrett, Laura and I enjoyed drinks and bouillabaisse in Montparnasse, and shared travel horror stories (moral: always pack a change of clothes in your carryon when flying Air France). A few days later, we met up for an amazing dinner in le Marais, but that merits its own post, to come later this week.

And on his first night in town, Mike and I shared a wonderful dinner at Fish La Boissonerie (69, rue de Seine 75006 Paris, tel: 01 43 54 34 69). This place is very foreigner-friendly, something that I usually don't love, but there was something so right about the vibe of the space, I loved our bartender, and I can see myself stopping in regularly for a snack or a drink. And the food was very good! Despite the name, we had no fruits de mer (although we did have some boissons), but we loved everything we ate, particularly the seared foie gras, pork (highly recommended by the aforementioned bartender), and thyme panna cotta. I think this was my first foie in Paris, and won't be my last!

But there's fun and games with my LCB classmates as well -- ten of us got together for drinks a couple of weeks ago, and it was a lot of fun to get to know each other outside of the kitchen, and in street clothes. We all clean up pretty well!

A few days later, Anne, Claudia and I headed out in Odeon for a bite to eat and a screening of Ocean's 13. Better than 12, not as good as 11 ... but lots of fun! We're already planning another movie outing for when Ratatouille opens here in Paris -- what could be better for us than a movie about becoming a chef in Paris?!

Existential questions

2007-06-29T09:56:00.000-04:00

You know what the difference (perhaps I should say "a" difference) is between the last institution of higher education in which I was enrolled and this one?

There, we'd spend hours, days, weeks debating philosophical questions, like which came first, the chicken or the egg.

Here, we just learn to cook 'em both on the same day.

(I thought this was really quite witty yesterday. Today I'm not so sure...)

Chef Bruno taught us how to make an amazing caramelized onion omelet that I can't wait to teach my dad. Dad has spent quite some time perfecting his omelet technique, and he's got it down to a science ... but I learned a couple of new tips that made this omelet truly delicious. (Hint: They involve butter and creme fraiche. Right. Of course they do.)

He also taught us how to make poulet roti et son jus (roast chicken au jus), served with artichokes topped with vegetables jardiniere. Now, roast chicken is one of my favorite things to eat, a real comfort food, so I was excited to get to give it a try today. My favorite thing I learned today, since roasting a chicken really isn't terribly complicated, is that with a good knife, I too can carve a chicken. It was even easier to carve than my poached chicken from week one!

I also learned that, even more than turning potatoes, I'm not a big fan of turning artichokes. I have a feeling we're going to be turning vegetables a lot from now on. Guess I'd better sharpen my knives.

Oops. An errant green bean.

Cooking chicken on a Friday morning was perfect, though, because it meant that this was my Shabbat dinner:

Almost as good as Mom's!! (Who am I kidding? Pretty much just as good as Mom's!!)

As the vegetables turn

2007-06-27T15:05:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, the devil is in the details.

Monday, in demonstration, Chef Bruno prepared aiguilette de boeuf mode, or braised beef with pearl onions and carrots. Since this is red meat week, we were all focused on the beef preparation -- and given that part of the preparation of this dish involved stitching strips of fat that had been soaked in cognac and rolled in a chiffonade of parsley into the cut of meat, there was a lot to focus on! So when Chef was preparing the garnish of pearl onions and carrots, it might have been easy to dismiss as an aside his comment that here we use "turned carrots", which we didn't need to worry about then, but would learn at a later date. But I remember raising my eyebrow, and thinking "hmmm, turned carrots ... what's that?"

Oh, Marn, you didn't want to know.

Fast forward to today, when we made boeuf bourgignon (after preparing the marinade yesterday and leaving our marinating beef overnight in the fridge) ... guess what goes with boeuf bourgignon? Yep, turned potatoes. And guess who learned how to turn potatoes today? Yep, me. And guess who despises turning potatoes? That's right.

Because I'm bad at it! B-A-D. It looks so simple, you hold the potato and carve it into an oval shape with your paring knife. Oh so pretty. But I can't do it. I can make octagons. I can make decagons. I can make any shape that doesn't involve a rounded edge. But ovals? Nope. Moi, je ne peux pas.

I hear it'll be on our final exam, so perhaps I should buy a few potatoes at the market and practice at home this weekend. Or perhaps I should start a revolution at LCB, introducing the dodecagoned potato to the world of French cooking. I'm sure it'll catch on...

**********

Also on the menu this week, cote du boeuf avec sauce bordelaise, avec tomatoes provencale. Chef Philippe made this for us in demonstration, but we didn't make it ourselves in practical. I'm actually somewhat thankful, as my fridge can hold no more meat products. But I'm definitely looking forward to trying my hand at the tomatoes -- topped with a mixture of bread crumbs, olive oil, garlic, and parsley, and browned in the oven -- they were delicious!

And my favorite by far, a dish I was excited to make in practical -- coeur de contrefilet roti au jus avec pommes mousseline. That's right, roasted sirloin filet and potato puree. Rock on. This was good, really good, and when served on a baguette has made for some amazing steak sandwiches this week. Je suis contente.

Eat your hearts out ...

2007-06-26T15:47:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I'll tell you all about the steak we cooked today later, but for now, take a look at my dinner of leftovers. My photography skills aren't so good here, but yum!

I think I'm in heaven.

Exploring by day...

2007-06-26T14:22:00.000-04:00

Last week wasn't all dough and no play! I continued exploring the city by foot last week ...

I wandered my neighborhood, finding my local market street and beginning the oh-so-scientific taste test to determine which baguette is best. My current favorite? Still the one at my old boulangerie in the 15th, although I do have a favorite boulangerie in this neighborhood, on rue de Buci. I love, by the way, that rue de Buci is my market street. I'm not sure I can describe it better than a fellow blogger ... but I love that I walk this street every day for my baguette and cheese, fruit and veggies. The market streets in Paris remind me a lot of Tokyo, as that was the city that introduced me to the concept of a market street. We need this kind of shopping and lifestyle in the United States. Or at least, I do...

I explored Ile de la Cite, seeing (but not joining the crowds inside of) Notre Dame and the Palais de Justice.

I also spent a few moments at the Memorial de la Deportation, dedicated to those who were deported during the Holocaust. Unfortunately, the memorial seemed to be closed for lunch, but I did sit for a moment in the park adjacent, and intend to return when it's open.

I continued my walk on the Right Bank, heading up through Les Halles. The night before, a friend at home had recommended Emile Zola's book Belly of Paris, set in Les Halles a few years after it opened, as a book "no Paris food student should be without!" Well, I haven't been able to find an English-language copy yet, but I was able to wander through the neighborhood last week, and I loved it! I found a great culinary equipment shop called Dehillerin (18, rue de la Coquilliere), and I was like a kid in a candy store looking at all of the kitchenware! I also spent some time in Laguiole, a knife shop at 1, place Ste. Opportune. Even though I just got a whole knife set from LCB, I keep thinking there are other knives I need. Like cheese knives, right? Doesn't every French culinary student need a good cheese knife??

I also found the location where Henri IV was assassinated in 1610 (I owe Ms. Newman a lot for all of this European history that's coming back to me!), and enjoyed the dichotomy of this church and the sculpture in front.

I also saw the first of many boucheries chevalines (everyone know what that means?)

Continued through Beauborg, seeing the Centre Pompidou and remembering exactly how little I like it. Call me old-fashioned, but I find it an eyesore.

Not too far away, though, is place Igor Stravinsky, where, according to my guide, "a whimsical fountain full of colorful spouting scultures awaits you. Enjoy it -- French whimsy can be hard to come by." I loved it, both on its own, and along with the amusing commentary!

One day, I decided to explore the 14th arrondissement, and spent some time in Cimetiere du Montparnasse, where such folks as Baudelaire, Maupassant, Beckett, de Beauvoir, Sartre, and Man Ray are buried.

I found it interesting that there were some Jewish graves, like this one, in the main cemetery ... but most were in a small cemetery across the road, and the grave of Alfred Dreyfus was nearly impossible to locate.

But I found it.

Another day, after class, Nika and I took a walk from school to Place des Vosges, with stops along the way for coffee and to pick up fixings for a picnic lunch. Sitting outside in a gorgeous park, with homemade quiche, a baguette and ham and cheese to top it, fresh nectarines, and chocolates? What could be more fun? We called Anne to meet us, and spent the rest of the afternoon wandering through le Marais.

A few days later, Anne and I spent some time before class sitting in Jardin du Luxembourg. These parks, I really could get used to them. Dupont Circle and the Mall don't compare!

Yet another day, I decided it was time to see where Mom studied, when she was in college. So a stroll through the Latin Quarter was necessary, to see the Sorbonne. It was strange to think of Mom, younger than I am now, walking through those same streets, having her own Parisian summer. Hopefully, she's coming to visit later in the summer, and we can compare notes!

I walked along beautiful Ile St. Louis and had ice cream at my sister and brother-in-law's favorite ice cream shop (sorry, couldn't FedEx any home to you)! I sampled chocolat noir and fraises des bois (wild strawberry), and they were both delicious.

One more exciting thing I've noticed as another week passed -- my conversations in French are getting longer, and fewer and fewer people are switching to English when they hear my broken grammar. I'm thrilled. I wasn't sure how much of my high school French was going to come back, especially since I've studied two other languages since then. But apparently my brain does okay at retaining language. Mme. Grenier would be so proud. As would my very first French teacher, who I know is reading this blog.

Kneading a break from dough

2007-06-25T08:41:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, the puns, they are irresistible. I blame my father.

But anyway.

Last week was dough week in Cuisine de Base here at LCB ... and as exciting as it was to find that my doughs miraculously worked (!!!), I am glad to be back to cooking and not baking. I prefer cooking by feel, without precise measurements and with the ability to taste and correct as I go. Baking still seems like magic to me ... with cooking, I feel far more in control.

Not that I'm a control freak, or anything.

So I think for now I'll leave the baking to my friends in the pastry courses here who always let me sample their wares, and to my friend Melina back at home, of whom I remain in awe. Of course, a couple of the dishes we made last week would make a fantastic brunch, so if I am convinced to host such a brunch when I get back, perhaps I'll break out the baking skills ...

Pissaladiere
(onion tart with tomatoes, olives, anchovies, and capers)

Quiche Lorraine

Feuilletee de Poireaux et Oeuf Poche, Sauce Albufera
(puff pastry filled with leeks, topped with a poached egg and Albufera sauce)

Seriously! Homemade puff pastry! Can you believe it? (I couldn't...)

In demonstration, the chefs made a few more dishes with doughs that I'm excited to try out at home, a tarte aux abricots (apricot tart), canneloni aux epinards et sauce tomate (spinach canneloni in tomato sauce), and a quiche aux champignons (mushroom quiche). Yum!

Le Weekend

2007-06-23T15:55:00.000-04:00

The schedule at LCB is not terribly taxing for those of us in Basic Cuisine (and not also in Basic Pastry) -- we have three to six hours of class a day, four or five days a week. But because our first day was an orientation, we had class on Saturday of our first week.

So I woke up at 6:30 Saturday morning to cook chicken.

I think this may have been my favorite day so far (but, I may find myself saying that often ... it's still such a new experience that every day seems more exciting than the last). I generally walk to school -- it's about an hour walk, but the weather has been gorgeous here, and I find it a nice way to start my day -- but that morning, I decided I wanted an extra half hour of sleep, so I took the metro. When I emerged from the metro at the Vaugirard stop, I saw a couple of my classmates sitting at the corner cafe, enjoying a noisette before class. They beckoned me over, and I remember thinking how great it is that, after only one week in a new city, I feel like I'm developing a life for myself here. Paris is a big city, but it's a city of neighborhoods, and I'm constantly pleasantly surprised when I run into friendly and familiar faces.

So after a caffeine jolt, we headed into the kitchen to prepare chicken au sauce supreme, avec riz au gras. The chef in demonstration had explained to us that this is a French classic ... one that must be made just so, with little room for creativity or improvisation in plating. The chicken is dressed with sauce, placed on a bed of rice, and surrounded by a moat of sauce supreme.

So I started by blowtorching my chicken. Really. It had already been plucked, but we had to remove the remaining down by burning it off. I then finished cleaning the chicken, and trussed it. Then, into the pot it went, along with some extra chicken wings we had, to be blanched. After discarding the blanching water (filled with impurities that boiled off) and rubbing the chicken with the juice of a lemon (not for flavor, but to make the chicken stay as white as possible), the chicken went back into a pot to make stock (and to be poached).

Next, I started my rice. I sweated my shallots in butter, and then added the rice to pearl (in French, nacre). In goes some freshly made chicken stock, and tada, riz au gras.

All that's left is the sauce. "D'abord, vous faites un roux," said the chef. First, you make a roux. Now, there are only a couple of people in the world who will know why this made me laugh, out loud ... but it did. Gotta love my Louisiana upbringing for giving new meanings to classic French culinary terms.

So make a roux, I did, combined it with stock, cream, butter, salt, and pepper, and cooked my sauce until it napped (seriously, that's the word for it -- a sauce is nappant when it coats the back of a spoon, and running your finger down the back of the spoon leaves a streak).

I plated my chicken, and waited for chef's grading. "Parfait!" he said, after testing the chicken for doneness, and tasting the sauce and rice. "Really?" I thought. But then I carved my chicken so I could take it home, and tasted a bite while packing it up. And it was parfait indeed.

After a walk through my neighborhood, and a drink with Anne, I headed home to enjoy my leftovers. While eating my delicious (perfect, some might say!) chicken and rice, I turned on my television for the first time, to see what my options were. Skipping past BBC, CNN, and al Jazeera (really, I'm on vacation here), I settled on cuisine tv (the French food network). Call me a geek, but it's a really good way to reinforce the language I'm learning during the day at LCB -- the vocabulary overlaps far more than it would if I were watching any other French television channel. I love that I can have it on in the background, and be doing other things, but can generally follow what's being done -- guess I'm absorbing more vocabulary than I realized!

**********

Sunday was my first day off, and I spent it on a walk through le Marais. The last time I was in Paris, seven years ago, I had a book of neighborhood walks that I absolutely loved -- we would pick a walk, head to that neighborhood, and explore the streets with a purpose and a guide. Of course, we'd stop if we saw something that caught our eyes, but having the tour to guide us made us notice things we might otherwise have passed by.

So I was excited when, in preparation for this trip, a friend gave me City Walks Paris -- a set of cards, each one detailing a 1-2 hour neighborhood walk. And Sunday, I pulled out the three Marais walks, and set out to explore what I remembered being one of my favorite Paris neighborhoods. Wandering the streets I saw what I remembered loving about the area, but learned an important lesson -- le Marais on a Sunday afternoon is busy! I told myself I'd return on a weekday for a more leisurely experience.

But I did get to stroll down pretty rue des Barres, behind the St. Gervais church.

And see some exposed-beam houses from the 15th century along rue Francois Miron (note the Japanese sign across the way). Along the way, I stopped into Musee Carnavalet, a museum dedicated to the history of Paris.

I also saw Hotel de Sens, the oldest medieval mansion in the area, dating back to 1475.

As the afternoon wound down, I got a phone call (yes, I have a French cell phone ... I am so very Parisian) from my very first visitors from the States (the first of many, I hope!), Garrett and Laura. Although they had experienced travel woes much like mine, they were up for a drink and dinner, so I met them in Montparnasse for some bouillabaisse and wine. And headed home to get some sleep in preparation for week two -- doughs. Time to break out the electronic scale for precise measurements!

Having too much fun to write!

2007-06-23T14:58:00.000-04:00

I really thought I'd be good about blogging daily, or maybe every other day. But it turns out that between class, and exploring Paris, and hanging out with friends, I get home most nights exhausted and ready for bed! But we'll see if I can catch up...

So, ten days ago, after finalizing my apartment, I returned to LCB to prepare filets de merlan bercy. This was the toughest day of practical yet. We started with whole whiting, which we had to clean (including popping out the eyeballs -- which was shockingly easier than I expected), scale, skin, and filet. I may be from south Louisiana, but I've never skinned a fish! And it showed ... the chef took one look at my first attempt and came right over to give me a quick tutorial.

Once our fish were separated into filets, bones, and trash (those pesky eyeballs), we were ready to get our fumet (stock) started. One thing making stock has taught me is that I need to buy myself a skimmer for my home kitchen. It's the one thing I use every day here, that I don't have at home.

We poached our filets in the stock, and reduced some of the remaining stock with butter, white wine, and parsley to make sauce bercy. Et voila!

I was definitely proud of my work, and gained a new appreciation for anyone who filets fish -- not an easy job! Three of my filets were decent, but the fourth -- I somehow left most of the fish on the bone. Although I get why this dish was part of our first week -- it taught us how to make a basic stock and reduce it into a sauce -- I might have preferred to filet a fish once my knife skills had developed a little more. I'm sure I'll get another chance though!

I went home after class with leftovers for dinner that night. Along with the soup from the day before, a baguette, and the omnipresent glass of red wine, it was a lovely meal. My new friend Nika invited me to a movie premiere on the Champs-Elysees, but I had too many things to do in preparation for moving the next morning, so I passed. Maybe next time!

The next day, my friend Anne invited me over to her place in the Latin Quarter for snacks on her balcony, and then dinner out. Mmm, bread, cheese, veggies, and wine. What could be better??

After we polished that off, we headed out for a bite. After taking a photo aboard a parked motorcycle (Anne tells me this is commonly done ... she also tells me that I'm a natural at the "stolen moto" photo ...) we stopped into a seafood place halfway between her house and mine.

I appear to be *thrilled* about my salmon (don't remember it being that exciting, but perhaps that was the wine talking), and Anne enjoyed her kissing prawns.

And thus ended my first week in Paris. Not bad, eh?

Connecting the dots

2007-06-18T15:38:00.000-04:00

Time to try to catch you all up on life here on the Left Bank...

The night I finalized my apartment, I decided to take myself to dinner in my new neighborhood, and sat down at a bistro a few blocks away. Soon a mother-son pair sat next to me, and when the son got up to take a cell phone call, his mother engaged me in conversation. Apparently her son had just graduated from college, and she was taking him to Paris for a few days as a celebration. And where were they from? Cahors!

What a coincidence! Cahors is my parents' favorite wine region, in the southwest of France. It's their sentimental favorite because when they lived in Tokyo (stay with me here, the story is an intercontinental one), their favorite "nice dinner out" restaurant was a tiny little neighborhood jewel called Cahors. The proprietor/chef, Kaoru Yamamoto, grew to know us and invite us to friends-and-family dinners; Mom and Dad brought gifts for him from their trips back to the States. It was at Cahors that we learned the Japanese word "skoshi" -- a little bit. My sister and I were teenagers, and when Yamamoto-san showed us the desserts available, we were clearly torn, and having a hard time deciding on just one. Everything looked so good. Yamamoto-san explained to us that we could order "skoshi" of as many as we wanted ... and won our hearts. For the five years my family lived there, Yamamoto-san treated us as family. And when we returned on vacation a few years later, the one stop we knew we had to make was Cahors. (We even braved a typhoon to do so. Yamamoto-san couldn't believe his eyes!)

Yamamoto-san has since moved to London, to open a Japanese restaurant called So, and I fully intend to cross the Channel while I'm here if for no other reason than to visit him there.

I digress. But meeting people from Cahors, at a little bistro in St. Germain, and having a lovely remainder of my evening chatting with them, just seemed to connect all the dots -- my time in Paris, my time in Tokyo ... what a lucky coincidence that we sat next to each other. I told my new friend that my parents hoped to visit Cahors someday, and she gave me her name and contact information. And I walked away from the restaurant amused at how small the world can sometimes be.

Home Sweet Home

2007-06-16T16:02:00.000-04:00

I know, I know ... it's been four whole days since I've updated you guys. Bad blogger!

But the reason is, I've been busy! I've been cooking, and looking for a new apartment, and cooking, and finding a new apartment, and cooking, and moving into a new apartment. And, hanging out with my new friends! When I roll home at midnight or 1am and have to be in the kitchen at 8am the next morning, I'm left with little time to update things over here.

Yeah. I know you all are feeling so sorry for me ...

But that's the explanation ... now, on to the news!

So, you all remember the terribly unfortunate fa lling-through of my Parisian apartment the night before I arrived in Paris!!! Oh yes, that was tres fun. Tres fun indeed. It meant that I spent most of my free moments this first week in Paris searching for apartments, doing my best to prevent being homeless for the remainder of the summer. (Fortunately, a couple of classmates offered their floors if I couldn't find a place in time, but I was not eager to have to take them up on that offer!)

But file this one under "when life hands you lemons, make lemonade" -- on Wednesday I found a lovely little spot in St. Germain des Pres, on a pedestrian street, mere steps from a bustling boulevard with shops, restaurants, and cafes. It's fantastic! I finalized it Thursday, and moved (with the help of my classmate Sarah) yesterday! Ignoring my half-hearted attempt at making my bed, isn't it lovely??

I also overlook a cute courtyard, and hear birds singing outside my windows all the time!

Moving was a test of my language skills. Flagging down a cab on the street here in Paris is pretty much not done -- you either go to a cab stand (located throughout the city) or call a dispatcher. Since I had all of my luggage, I couldn't easily walk over to a cab stand, so I had to call to order a cab. I always find speaking in foreign languages easier in person than over the phone, as you can read (and use) body language and gestures to get your point across. But I've now had my first French-on-the-phone success, because when I got downstairs with my bags, the cab was there!

There's more, it's true ... but it'll have to wait til I have more time to write!! But, as a preview, tonight's first dinner in my new home (all homemade except the baked goods ... we learn that later in the summer):

Cutting to the chase

2007-06-12T15:11:00.000-04:00

So I'm a real live, honest-to-goodness, culinary student.

I know, many of you are waiting with bated breath for the head-to-toe shot, the one with the checked pants, the apron, and yes, the hat. That too will come. The hat is required only in the practical classes, not the demonstration classes, and guess where this photo was taken...

But yes, days one and two -- so far, so good. After orientation yesterday, my French language skills were put to the test as I had to find a tailor and get my chef's pants hemmed. Apparently, my French is coming back quickly, because everyone keeps commenting on how good it is, and how good my accent is (thanks, Louisiana public schools...) -- and I managed to get my pants hemmed in just a couple of hours!

Today we received our recipe book and course materials. Interestingly, a recipe here is merely a list of ingredients ... it is up to us to pay attention in the demonstration class, and write down whatever we think we'll need to know to recreate the dish in the practical session. For me, this is a great teaching method -- because it forces you to both hear the material, and write down what's important. I've always been someone who learns by writing, so this really helps things sink in. The other great thing about pedagogy at LCB is that the demonstration course is lectured in French, and translated into English. So those of us who understand both languages get to hear instructions and explanations twice ... and, those of us whose French is merely comme ci, comme ca get daily intensive practice in comprehension! French lessons and culinary lessons for the price of one! (And practical classes are solely in French, so it's really sink or swim time!)

Lesson one was Potage Cultivateur, a rustic vegetable soup that served as a vehicle for teaching us knife skills and the four basic cuts -- paysanne, mirepoix, brunoise, julienne. The other keys -- making sure each of the ingredients was cooked for the proper amount of time, and proper seasoning.

Chef Bruno pronounced mine "tres tres bien"! Two "tres"!!

Anyway, I'm enjoying leftovers, along with a baguette and some red wine, for dinner. Things could be worse...

----------------------------

In other news, my luggage arrived Sunday night. And I think I've almost finalized an apartment for the summer. These are good things.

----------------------------

I've been doing a lot of walking around the city in my free time. I always find it's a good way to get a sense of how a city is laid out, and how neighborhoods connect to each other -- and for those of you who know my sense of direction, you know just how important that is! So the past couple of days, I've spent hours wandering ... through the 15th, 7th, 6th, and 5th arrondissements. I'm beginning to feel like I know the city, at least a little, and that's exciting. I haven't really learned a new city in nearly a decade, and it's exhilarating and fun and even confidence-building. (Also, it keeps me in shape, given all of the cheese and butter and bread and chocolate I'm eating...)

So, I wandered by Hotel des Invalides ... and nearby a building once inhabited by Antoine de Saint-Exupery (which brought a smile to my face, as a very close friend recently gave me a gorgeous copy of Le Petit Prince) ... strolled by the Musee Rodin, which I remember loving on my last trip here (and to which I intend to make a return visit), and the Jardin du Luxembourg (where I'm hoping to jog on the days I don't take multi-hour jaunts through town).

These walks have made me think about the long, long walks we used to take on family trips in Tokyo, Shanghai, Bangkok, and other cities throughout Asia. At the time, my sister and I thought of them as death marches ... never-ending treks with no goal in sight that made us miserable. But now I wonder if they were, for my dad (the trek-leader), the same thing that my walks in Paris the past couple of days are for me -- a way to explore a place that affords you a better sense of a city's culture than merely rushing from place to place, from museum to shopping area to restaurant. As an uneager participant in such walks, they seemed interminable. As the architect, I'm pleasantly surprised each day when I look up, and realize I'm halfway across the city, and hours have passed. (So dad, sorry 'bout the complaining...)

----------------------------

One more thing. After orientation yesterday, I decided I was in the mood for non-French food. So I stopped into Le Banyan (24, place Etienne Pernet 75015 Paris; tel: 01 40 60 09 31) for lunch. Le Banyan is a lovely little Thai restaurant that I'd read about in both the Michelin guide and Zagats, and their 14 euro lunch special couldn't be beat. I had marinated and grilled chicken brochettes with peanut sauce; a spicy coleslaw made with fish sauce (that was billed as Thai salad); beef sauteed with basil (one of the best renditions of this dish I've ever had); and sauteed noodles with vegetables. I wavered on whether to add dessert to this great deal, but couldn't be happier that I did -- I enjoyed what was by far the best execution of mango on sticky rice I have ever encountered. Rice cooked al dente and held together in a pudding of sorts by thick coconut milk, topped with sweet mango slices, fresh coconut, and a brunoise of strawberries (look at me using my newfound culinary knowledge already...) Wow, I may just go back for that dessert the next time I'm craving something you can't buy in a patisserie!

And it was evening, and it was morning - the first day

2007-06-10T03:08:00.001-04:00

I could really get used to the rhythm of life around here... I know, I've been here barely a day, but the verdict at the end of day one? Pas mal!

After filing my "Property Irregularity Report" with the bureau of lost luggage, I hopped onto a bus to the Arc de Triomphe (which, contrary to one Washingtonian's opinion, you can only drive around, not through!). Turned on my iPod and watched out the window as I approached the city I'll call home for the summer. That's when the realization that I'm actually here hit. For the first time since I went to Chicago for law school, I'm someplace where I know no one, but intend to develop a life. My last week in Washington, that thought was terrifying. My first day in Paris, it was exhilarating.

From the Arc de Triomphe, I took a cab to the apartment I'll call home for my first week here. My cab driver engaged me in a conversation, and I happily realized that my French is coming back. Slowly, but surely...

After dropping my stuff at home (see the view of the courtyard from my window at right), I ventured out to explore the 'hood. There's not much written in tour books about the 15th arrondissement, but it's a lovely residential area with parks (that's Square Adolph Cherioux below), shops, and a ton of different restaurants. In just a couple of hours walking around, I saw Lebanese, Korean, Japanese, Chinese, and Tunisian restaurants (in addition to bistrots and brasseries)!

I particularly liked the name of a salon de the nearby (you may have to click on the photo to read the awning)...

I found Le Cordon Bleu only a short walk away, and ventured into the grocery store to get basics (yay! I can shop in French!)

At this point, I realized I was hungry. So I began looking for a simple bistrot or brasserie -- I was still feeling the effects of flying, and being delayed, and being without luggage, and just wanted simplicity. After passing by one place where all of the patrons were speaking English, and another where the menu was translated into English, I happened upon chez moi ou chez toi (21, rue Mademoiselle 75015 Paris; tel: 01 48 56 00 87), a charming little place done in dark wood and shades of deep red, with jazz playing in the background. Fake daisies on the table and a funky red chandelier added a quirky touch. My friendly server chatted with me in French about Washington (he has a friend who went to Georgetown), and, when he dropped off the basket of bread, warned me "le pain est tres bon ... et tres chaud"! (He was right on both counts.)

Had a lovely meal of salade de crepes de chevre (bibb lettuce lightly dressed in a slightly sweet oil and vinegar, topped with chevre-filled crepes that had been quickly sauteed to warm and crisp them) and pave de boeuf avec pommes de terre (beef with a roquefort sauce, and sauteed potatoes). With a quart (that's a quarter-liter, not a quart!) of table wine, I was soon pleasantly full and sleepy, with no room for dessert.

Continued exploring the neighborhood on Sunday by wandering over to l'Ecole Militaire. I found the mask accompanying the cavalry entrance puzzling...

Wandered through the Parc du Champ de Mars, between the Eiffel Tower and l'Ecole Militaire. Not surprisingly, it reminded me of the Washington Mall. A photo of the cute carousel in the park (and the obligatory Eiffel Tower shot)...

On a friend's recommendation, I walked over to the market street of rue Cler. What a fun and bustling place! I stopped into a patisserie for a baguette (and a pain au chocolat -- I couldn't resist!), and a fromagerie (can you tell what I had for dinner tonight??) My cheese choices (for those of you who are playing along at home) were chaource (a cow's milk cheese from the Aube region) and bouca (a goat's milk cheese with a charcoal-covered rind). Both delicious, but I slightly preferred the bouca (as I knew I would, I'm a sucker for goat cheeses).

Still no luggage ...

(Get it? Suffren? Sufferin'? Oh, I crack myself up...)

I may be jetlagged, and wearing the same clothes since Friday, but that doesn't mean I can't look good!!!

Je suis arrivee

2007-06-09T09:54:00.000-04:00

The adventure begins...

After four hours of delays, and one missed flight (and far too much time in Newark airport), I've made it to Paris.

My luggage, not so much. Excellent.

So I'm off to explore my neighborhood, find the school, and maybe buy a few necessities to tide me over til the airline finds my bags. Because they will find my bags. Right??

Highs and lows on the eve of departure

2007-06-07T08:04:00.000-04:00

So, I've been getting pretty excited about this whole summer in Paris thing. Look at me, moving someplace new on my own, doing something I've long dreamed of doing, making it happen!

And everything has been falling into place during the days leading up to my departure ... spent an afternoon watching Sabrina and drinking Bordeaux with a very close friend, dreaming of the walks I'll take along the Seine, the cafes and bistros I'll stop into when the spirit moves me. Had dinner last night at a lovely French restaurant, where the friendly Parisian maitre d' invited me to return this afternoon to get tips for my trip. I am nervous, but things are coming together.

Or at least I thought they were, until I woke up this morning. To find an email from the woman whose apartment I am subletting. Or should I say, the woman whose apartment I thought I was subletting ...

Apparently her toilet broke. And her landlord says he can't fix it until July. (Does anybody else find this a bit disturbing??) And she wouldn't feel right subletting me a place without a toilet.

Um, right. I wouldn't feel right renting a place without a toilet, either!

So now I'm getting on a plane tomorrow, and don't have an apartment for the summer. Right. (Fortunately, I have another place lined up for the first week, so nobody panic. I won't be homeless til 16 June...)

When are things going to start falling into place again??

A new adventure...

2007-06-06T12:38:00.000-04:00

I know, you all thought you'd never see another post from me. (Those of you who have been guilting me, you know who you are...) I mean really, it's been nearly six months! Where have I been??

I've been working. It's amazing how, when you write (and write, and write) for work, the last thing you want to do when you get home, is write some more. Even when the subjects are so very very different.

But the big work project is done! And the next adventure is about to begin.

Adventure? Adventure, you say?

Yup.

I'm moving to Paris. For three months. To go to Le Cordon Bleu.

Seriously.

So from now til September, tune in here to read about my exploits as an expat in culinary school in Paris! And if you have any tips, places to go, people to see -- leave them in the comments!

Sushi-Ko

2006-12-18T16:33:00.000-05:00

"I'm heading over to Sushi-Ko around 6, want to join me?"

When I heard those words yesterday, I knew things were looking up. I'd been having a bad week, and few things improve my mood like Japanese food, the source of so many of my comfort dishes.

Perched on seats at the sushi bar in front of Executive Chef Koji Terano, we put ourselves in his hands. "Some sashimi, some sushi, some small dishes, some cooked food ... whatever you want to serve us," we said. Koji smiled.

We started off with a glass of plum wine to whet our appetites, and opened our bottle of champagne when Koji placed our first dish in front of us. According to him, champagne pairs well with sashimi. And it turns out, he's right. Our first course was a sashimi presentation of hirame (flounder) topped with engawa (flounder fin) and lightly sauteed ankimo (monkfish liver), topped with American caviar, micro-scallions and a sauce of ponzu and grated daikon. The combination of flavors and textures was incredible, and I probably could have gone home happy after finishing that plate.

But no, silly girl. Thankfully, the time for going home remained hours away. Koji next presented us with a sashimi plate, a selection of hata (grouper), hotate (live scallop), sawara (Spanish mackerel), and big-eye tuna, accompanied with seaweed, daikon, radish, and carrot. What was most remarkable about each of these fish was its texture ... the grouper, with a little bit of chewiness; the smooth scallop; the silkiness of the mackerel; and the melt-in-your-mouth nature of the tuna. I was also surprised at the mildness of the mackerel ... I always enjoy mackerel, but the slightly strong flavor I expected was not found in last night's dish. That explained why Koji suggested we eat the mackerel before the tuna (although he agreed it could go either way) ... neither fish would really overpower the other.

The simplest dish came next, a lightly cooked lobster tail topped with bottarga (salted dried mullet roe). This course underwhelmed both of us, but it was probably meant to transition us from raw to cooked, and that, it did well.

Next, we were presented with a cooked dish, tuna three ways - tuna jaw, tuna cheek, and fatty tuna jaw, served with four accompaniments - a salt/chili flakes/black sesame seeds combo, fresh grated wasabi (from South Carolina, who knew?), a yuzu-jalapeno dipping sauce, and lemon. By this point our champagne was gone, and we paired this dish with a burgundy - a perfect match. The jaw presentation was fatty and gelatinous, and a dip in the salt mixture followed by a touch of lemon made each bite perfect. The cheek almost reminded us of a South American pork dish, especially when enjoyed with the yuzu-jalapeno sauce. And the fatty jaw ... it was grilled, with a crisp outside and melting inside, and to my taste needed no accoutrements whatsoever. It was at this point in the meal that my dining companion made his true feelings known. "I love you," he said to Koji. "Me too," replied Koji.

The tuna dish was delicious, but to me most important for its educational value ... that such different flavors and textures can be coaxed out of different areas of the head of the same fish was phenomenally interesting to me, and gave me a whole new appreciation of the skill that goes into butchering and dish-planning.

So. Not. Done. I have to admit, at this point I was close to throwing in the towel. But I persevered, and I'm glad I did, because in terms of flavor, the next course closely rivaled the first for "favorite dish of the evening" in my book. Koji brought us what he called his "fish and chips soup" - a broth thickened with kuzu (a Japanese root starch) and filled with pieces of seafood (I seem to remember crab, but I'll admit that my memory begins to get a little hazy around this point of the meal) and seaweed. Floating on top was the fish and chips -- lightly fried pieces of flounder, and sweet potato chips. My words can't do this justice - it was just perfect, and perfect at that point in the meal. My excitement about the soup was obvious, and it spurred a conversation with Koji about one of my favorite food memories from my travels in Japan -- the yakimo trucks driving through the neighborhood, selling roasted Japanese sweet potatoes as delicious snacks. The sweet potatoes in Koji's soup were American, but they still invoked a memory from seven years ago, making the dish taste that much better to me.

"We've still got to get rolls," my friend leaned over and said to me. I smiled weakly back. "Right." So we did - a white tuna and jalapeno pepper roll, and a roll filled with fatty tuna, shiso leaf, and radish. They were delicious, the jalapeno pepper adding a great zest to the first, and the shiso leaf a nice clean flavor in the second.

I only wish I had still been hungry.

Sushi-Ko
2309 Wisconsin Avenue, NW
202-333-4187

Washington Post 2006 Dining Guide

2006-10-12T17:59:00.000-04:00

Tom Sietsema's 2006 Dining Guide hits newsstands this weekend, but eager diners can sneak a peek at it online here. Highlights? CityZen (under the stewardship of uber-talented chef Eric Ziebold) earns its fourth star, and Tom takes a look at ethnic treats, neighborhood gems, and one of my favorite sushi spots.

What do you think of the Dining Guide? Any great picks? Glaring omissions?

Should I stay or should I go?

2006-10-06T14:57:00.000-04:00

No sooner had I resigned myself to the end of summer (it being October, and pumpkin pie ice cream being back in the cases at Giffords, yippee!, and did you notice I even mentioned it in my last post?), then summer jumped up and smacked me in the face.

But it was a good smack. Tough love, perhaps. It was the smack of a softshell crab.

That's right. You heard me. Softshell crabs. In October.

And they were good.

Get thee to David Craig Bethesda immediately, in the hope that the softshell crab special will still be on the menu, two sauteed softshells on a bed of fresh tricolor pasta, resting on a sauce that sings with shallots, tomatoes, and chilis. And if that weren't enough, the softshells are surrounded by a generous portion of PEI mussels. I was torn between this and another special (the fried chicken two ways, how could that be bad?), but chose the softshells because I know that soon enough I'll be reminiscing with fondness about the days of softshells, tomatoes, peaches, and other summer treats.

But I did steal a bite of A's hand-cut fettucine with a meat and wild mushroom ragu, and I know what I'm coming back for next time. David Craig does pasta well, really well. And the ragu was a perfect balance of meaty and creamy, making it a brilliant comfort food. This dish will keep me warm as the leaves change and the air turns brisk.

Our desserts were fine, a chocolate bread pudding that I didn't love, but A devoured, and my choice, toasted pound cake served on a trio of chocolate, caramel, and sour cream sauces. The cake was good, but I would have preferred it sliced thinner so more surface area was resting in the sop-worthy sauces, especially the sour cream sauce that countered the sweetness of the cake, creating a perfectly sweet and tangy bite.

I'm not generally a fan of Bethesda dining -- to me it's a culinary wasteland filled with lots and lots of average restaurants -- but now that David Craig has moved to the neighborhood, I think I'll have to reconsider.

So should summer stay or should it go? As far as I'm concerned, another few days of vibrant summer foods can't possibly be bad. Especially now that I have a pint of pumpkin pie ice cream in my freezer for any fall food cravings...

Giffords Ice Cream
(multiple locations)

David Craig Bethesda
4924 St. Elmo Drive
Bethesda, MD
301-657-2484

Apologies

2006-10-04T18:40:00.000-04:00

Last I checked, it was August.

Seriously.

And now it's the month of pumpkins, warm beverages, butternut squash, and soups. Summer menus are slipping away, in their place lists of tempting and warming comfort foods. Maybe it's time for me to put away the tank tops and flip flops and take out the sweaters and boots.

Guess this is what happens when things get busy at work the same month I have three vacations planned. Right. The blog writing... well, it slips through the cracks.

But stay tuned. Soon to come: reports from Charlotte, the Bay Area, and (oh yeah) restaurants in and around D.C. Plus, what's my favorite celebration of the year? Here's a hint - it happens every day, somewhere in the world.

Requiem for a city

2006-08-29T00:03:00.000-04:00

I've been trying to write this post for days. And the words won't come. How best to pay tribute to the city I love on the anniversary of the natural and political disaster that changed it forever? How best to evoke the place, its lyrical sound, its spicy flavor, its sassy people, its aura of home? Should I write with hope for the future, bitterness and anger about the failures of a year ago, or sadness for the city that will no longer be?

Photo by Thomas Neff

Maybe I should write of the innumerable meals I enjoyed in that city, some in places that are once again open for business, others in places that may never welcome another guest. Or perhaps I should write of the heartwarming outpouring of support by chefs and restaurants throughout the country a year ago, and again now.

But really, Louis Armstrong said it best:

Do you know what it means
to miss New Orleans
And miss it each night and day
I know I’m not wrong...
this feeling’s gettin’ stronger
The longer I stay away
Miss them moss covered vines...
the tall sugar pines
Where mockin’ birds used to sing
And I’d like to see that lazy Mississippi... hurryin’ into spring

Restaurants for Relief 2

2006-08-28T08:23:00.000-04:00

If you're dining out this week, you have an opportunity not only to eat well, but also to do good.

Consider dining out on Tuesday, August 29, the one-year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina's devastating tear through the Gulf region. And consider one of the many area restaurants participating in Share our Strength's Restaurants for Relief 2, including Louisiana-inspired Acadiana Restaurant and Ruth's Chris Steak House, founded in New Orleans.

Participating restaurants nationwide will contribute a portion of their proceeds from Tuesday's sales to hurricane recovery efforts throughout the Gulf region, including rebuilding school cafeterias and providing assistance to affected restaurant workers.

It's about the people, Part IV

2006-08-27T17:06:00.000-04:00

It's only fitting that I should say farewell to my friend G, as he moves across the country, in the same way we became friends five years ago -- over food.

G's not one of my "food friends" -- he and I share common roots (southerners born and bred!), went to the same law school, and have worked together for a large part of our careers. (If I didn't know better, I'd worry that I might pick up and move across the country in the next year or two, just to keep our streak of things in common going.) But what cemented our friendship wasn't any of these things, it was our very first conversation, almost exactly five years ago.

I had just moved to Lafayette, Louisiana, to spend a year clerking for a judge. I was replacing G, and he and I had a few days of overlap for him to show me the ropes. But after a few minutes of learning the ins and outs of the computer system, and how the judge runs his chambers, I had to ask the important question: where can I get good food down here?

G's quickness to answer, and the enthusiasm with which he made so many suggestions, told me I had found a friend. Did I want Thai food? Skip the locals' favorite, and go to Mae Sone Noodle House, the tiny hole-in-the-wall run by an immigrant family. Middle Eastern? Try Cedar Grocery, the carry-out/grocery within walking distance of the courthouse. Biscuits? Check. Meat and three? Check. Po-boys? Olde Tyme Grocery makes the best ones in town, if not in the whole state. Anyone who could rattle off this many varied suggestions (in a small town not known for its culinary variety) was a winner in my book.

So when G suggested I join the group heading to dinner the next night at what he termed o ne of the best restaurants in the area, I accepted without hesitation. And thus, over barbecued shrimp, crawfish cornbread, gumbo, and etouffee (not to mention a tasty slice of chocolate pecan pie), a friendship was born.

During my year in Lafayette, I'd call G for restaurant suggestions throughout southern Louisiana, as I explored the region. He'd give them, and express jealousy at the good meals he was missing. When I moved to DC, we shared our favorite food finds here... and regularly reminisced about our Lafayette favorites.

So this week, I guess it was only fitting that we bid him farewell over soju, kimchi, mandoo and bulgogi at Han Sung Oak, home of some of the best Korean food I've had outside of Korea.

And as I told G the next day, the one good thing about him moving to Phoenix is that I now have another city in which I can eat well when I visit!

Mae Sone Noodle House
4807 Johnston Street
Lafayette, LA
337-406-0850

Cedar Grocery
1115 Jefferson Street
Lafayette, LA
337-233-5460

Edie's
1895 W. Pinhook Road
Lafayette, LA
337-234-2485

Dwyer's Cafe
323 Jefferson Street
Lafayette, LA
337-235-9364

Olde Tyme Grocery
218 W. St. Mary Boulevard
Lafayette, LA
337-235-8165

Cafe des Amis
140 E. Bridge Street
Breaux Bridge, LA
337-332-5273

Han Sung Oak
6341 Columbia Pike
Falls Church, VA
703-642-0808

DC restaurants play musical chairs, Kliman reports

2006-08-08T11:07:00.000-04:00

In today's chog, Todd Kliman gave us a few more tidbits on the supposed upcoming Palena move to the Westinghouse Mansion in Dupont.

Plans for that project continue apace; I’m hearing that the new space is going to include a café and shop on the first floor, a restaurant on the second, and offices on the third.

He also gave downtown denizens the bad news that Galileo will be spending a year in Crystal City:

The latest buzz is that Galileo will be vacating its outdated, dimly-lit space in early September for a year while its building undergoes renovation …

… and setting up shop in Crystal City …

… in the space currently occupied by [restaurant I am not currrently at liberty to divulge] …

… which is apparently eyeing the space being vacated by Andale, which closed last week.

What this means to me is, I've got to be sure to get to this week's Galileo Grill -- offered Wednesday and Thursday -- because the shlep to Virginia won't be happening once they relocate.

Oh, and if intel about [restaurant Todd is not currently at liberty to divulge] is correct, Gallery Place would indeed become a mecca for a certain local chef, who would have a number of places within blocks... Keep an eye on this spot for updates.

Bistro at Restaurant Eve

2006-08-07T17:00:00.000-04:00

I think I'm in love.

And, much to my mother's chagrin, it's not with a nice young man.

But I think she'll understand, because she was with me the night I was swept off of my feet by the atmosphere, food, and service that combine to make up the Bistro at Restaurant Eve. (And I think she may have fallen a little bit in love as well. I won't tell Dad.)

We weren't celebrating anything other than being together, but from the moment we walked through the door we felt as if we were being welcomed into Meshelle and Cathal Armstrong's home for a special occasion dinner. Warmly greeted at the door, we were escorted past the bustling kitchen, peeked into the gorgeous Tasting Room, and were delivered to our table in the cozy and comforting Bistro.

And that was merely the beginning of the exquisite care we were shown throughout the night. From General Manager and Sommelier Todd Thrasher's recommendation of a bottle of 2002 Catena Alta malbec, to his identification of the greens we were curious about that accompanied Dad's escolar, to his provision of a bowl for the shells from Mom's prawn dish (and his replacement of that bowl midway through the meal, when it was full); from the care he took in ironing the tablecloth at an empty table nearby, to his enthusiastic dessert recommendation (that we didn't take) -- it was clear that he loves this place, and shares the Armstrongs' commitment to creating a welcoming and comfortable place for people to enjoy a delightful evening.

But as nice as that is, the Bistro would not have stolen my heart, were it not for the amazing food coming out of Chef Armstrong's kitchen. And oh, was it amazing. To start, we enjoyed a variety of tomatoes (including sungolds, my new absolute favorite, they scream SUMMER!, bursting with sweet juicy tomatoey flavor in our mouths) with mozzarella, and basil fresh from the garden. We also tried the crabcakes, a dish my mom makes a point of sampling during her summer visits to DC (as they are far better here than in the locales further south where she spends most of her time). We were all duly impressed with the meaty version offered here, served with a slightly spicy remoulade sauce.

And those tastes were a mere hint of the delights that were to come. Mom's prawn risotto had a depth of flavor I didn't expect, and was so good that when I leaned across the table for a second bite, I was shooed away with the words "you've already had your taste." (Huh? Who ever heard of a mother withholding food from her daughter?!) This dish is not for the squeamish, as the prawns are served head-on, but this didn't faze us one bit. (The three of us have a combined seventy years of living in Louisiana under our belts -- it'll take more than a few shrimp heads to raise our eyebrows...)

I had Chef Armstrong's take on my favorite summer combination -- duck and peaches. But the version at the Bistro was unlike any I had sampled before, because it introduced me to what I've now decided is the best kind of peach for this dish. A Muscovy duck breast was served with slightly sweet pearl onions, slightly bitter chard, and the piece de resistance, a sweeter-than-sweet, peachier-than-peachy donut peach. My only complaint? That there weren't more of these delicious peaches on the plate for me to enjoy. (The serving was perfect for normal folks, it's just that I'm a bit of a glutton for peaches.)

But the dish that really showcased Chef Armstrong's talents, and made it clear to me why he was featured as one of Food and Wine's Best New Chefs, was Dad's escolar served with beets and a lemon vinaigrette, over a bounty of greens. Although the fish was cooked perfectly and melted in our mouths, it was the greens that made the dish -- each bite was different, and delicious. In one forkful, you noticed the mint; in another, the baby cilantro; in a third the pea tendrils. The flavors not only complemented each other, but also worked well individually, so every bite was divine, a bouquet of fresh verdant flavor in our mouths. (Yes, Dad let me have more than one bite.)

By the time dessert rolled around, Mom was back in a sharing mood, and we enjoyed a warm blueberry cake with a possibly-too-precious dollop of coffee foam, and the kitchen's interpretation of a s'more -- oh-so-rich chocolate ganache, house-made chocolate ice cream, and a house-made marshmallow. Delicious, but when I return I'm trying Todd's recommended crema fritta, or the pink-iced birthday cake I saw heading to a nearby table.

Perhaps someday I'll make Mom happy by falling in love with a nice young man again. But for now, I'm delightedly looking forward to my next date with the Bistro at Restaurant Eve.

Restaurant Eve
110 South Pitt Street
Alexandria, VA
703-706-0450

It's about the people, Part III

2006-08-06T21:51:00.000-04:00

Who would've thought that food would serve to remind me that I'm smart?

I used to know I was smart. As smart as anyone else out there. Maybe smarter, even.

Then I went to law school. At a place full of really smart people. And for the first time, I questioned my smarts. Nothing was coming as easily any more. I had to work hard, really hard, just to keep up. But I did work hard, and I did keep up. And I graduated, believing even more that I was smart, as smart as anyone else out there -- because now I had faced a real challenge, and succeeded.

A few years as an associate at BigLawFirm, though, rid me of that knowledge. A combination of factors (analyzed well in this article) chased me out of BigLawFirm, and (fortunately) into a far more satisfying legal career. But they also left me feeling as if I wasn't smart enough to cut it in BigLaw. As someone else expressed it, “It affects your self-esteem. You start wondering if you are not a good lawyer. You internalize it.”

And internalize it I did. I questioned my abilities as a lawyer, and, by extension, my intellect. I grew tentative to voice my legal theories, doubting their soundness. My confidence was shaken, and the years between myself and my BigLawFirm life weren't enough to rebuild it.

But sharing a bottle of wine with some food friends this weekend was.

There I was, listening to my friends talk about wine, a subject about which they are passionate (and ridiculously knowledgeable). We engaged in what L calls the "Socratic method of learning about wine," in which I listen and try to understand everything they say, and ask questions when I don't. And I loved it. Always the student, I learn at every turn, even when enjoying a glass of wine in the warm post-midnight breeze on a roof high above the District.

And then, somehow, the conversation turned to L's theory of constitutional law. And I don't know whether it was the late hour, my comfort level with these folks, or a little too much delicious red wine, but the light bulb went off. You know, the light bulb that, if I lived in a comic strip, would pop up over my head and say in a thought bubble "A-HA! I know something about this, and what I have to say is intelligent. BigLawFirm shook my confidence, but no more! I will expound on the law!"

Or something like that.

So expound I did, and we had a fascinating and intellectually stimulating conversation about constitutional law and the role of law in organized society. And I remembered, finally, that I was smart. Thanks to people outside of my profession, who I would never know, were it not for a shared love of food.

L probably didn't give that conversation one more moment's thought after he left the roof that night. So he probably has no idea the impact it had on me. Someday, over a good bottle of wine, I'll have to thank him.

1789

2006-07-31T22:13:00.000-04:00

"Is this your first time dining with us?" asked the personable bartender as I perched on a seat at the bar to wait for my always-tardy friend S. When I answered "yes," he lit up, and after serving me a crisp glass of Albarino (and carding me, the way to this nearly 30-year-old girl's heart), he went on to tell me the history of the famed Georgetown restaurant. Founded over forty years ago, and with a new chef this year in Nathan Beauchamp, 1789 Restaurant continues to earn accolades from Gourmet magazine, and three stars from Washington Post food critic Tom Sietsema.

"So, what should I get?" I asked the bartender. "What's Chef Beauchamp's best dish?" I had heard fabulous things about the lamb chops, but wanted another opinion. Without missing a beat, my bartender broke into a grin. "The rabbit. Do you like rabbit?" Now, rabbit's one of my favorite dishes, so this was a great sign. "Love it," I said.

Next thing I knew, the bartender had disappeared, going off to make sure the rabbit was still available that night. "There's one left," he said when he returned. "It's yours if you want it." "Absolutely," I said gratefully. Never in the twenty years that I've known her have I been so glad that S was running late...

I continued to enjoy my Albarino, and watch my new friend make champagne cocktails, dirty martinis, and even a Shirley Temple for a young man who didn't pass the carding test. And eventually, in walked S.

We moved on to our table, where our extremely friendly and witty server greeted us. She read us as a table that might spend some time chatting before we settled on our dinner choices, and made us feel entirely comfortable taking our time -- talking about our weekends, showing each other our manicures, and laughing about our inability to master yoga. It felt a little weird to be chattering away about such silliness, in a solemn and historically-inspired room. But somehow, it worked.

Unfortunately, I wasn't as blown away by our meals. My chilled tomato soup with fresh shrimp had vibrant cilantro flavor, but the tomato didn't sing. And in July, when I've had bright, summery tomatoes at every turn, that left me disappointed. S enjoyed her crabcakes, and the bite I stole from her plate was tasty, although no better than those I've had elsewhere in the city. But the real disappointment was the rabbit, slightly overcooked, and served with pasta that stuck to itself in an unsatisfying way. Our meal ended on a good note, as the lemon miroir, served with raspberries, was one of the best lemon desserts I've ever enjoyed. It was perfectly light and fresh, with just the right amount of tart lemon flavor.

We had a beautiful evening, and enjoyed a fun setting in which old friends can catch up and be taken care of by perfectly attentive service from start to finish. And the summer special 3-course dinner for $35 is hard to beat. But purely for the taste and quality of the food, I'd probably choose to go elsewhere.

1789 Restaurant
1226 36th Street, NW
202-965-1789

So you think you can cook

2006-07-27T20:54:00.000-04:00

"It cracks me up that you're so into food and cooking now," G said to me when I was visiting her and her husband in Texas earlier this summer. "I remember when you didn't know how to chop a green pepper!"

It's true. As a kid, I was unsure in the kitchen. And even as a young adult, I picked up knives with trepidation, sure I'd chop off a finger; and only rarely experimented with recipes, certain that I'd mess something up and wind up having to order a pizza. (G, on the other hand, is a natural in the kitchen -- I think she was born knowing how to whip up her dad's red sauce, her mom's jambalaya...)

But somehow, over the last couple of years, I've picked up some confidence in the kitchen. Maybe it's because what I've learned is, there's no better way to become more proficient in the kitchen, than to just get in there and cook. Helping me along with that are cooking classes at L'Academie de Cuisine's recreational school in Bethesda. There, aspiring home cooks learn everything from basic knife skills, to Asian appetizers, to risotto. The combination of a great instructor, tasty recipes, and the camaraderie of classmates makes the evening fly by.

Take enough classes, and you may just find yourself comfortable enough to jump into your kitchen one summer Thursday night, and throw together a dinner of salmon with fresh basil, and a summery tomato-corn-mozzarella-basil salad. And peach sorbet for dessert. Mmmm.

L'Academie de Cuisine
5021 Wilson Lane
Bethesda, MD
301-986-9490

Zaytinya

2006-07-21T12:19:00.000-04:00

Entertaining the parents on a hot and sticky DC summer afternoon can be tricky. When they visit we usually pick a neighborhood or two and wander somewhat aimlessly, poking our heads into interesting-looking places and just exploring... but last week's oppressive heat wave shrunk our tolerance for being outdoors. So we settled on visiting a few museums in the morning, and catching a movie in the afternoon. And in between, we stopped into Zayt inya for lunch.

This was an interesting choice, because I'm normally not a fan. I don't love their somewhat pretentious scene in the evenings. I don't love that I've been overcharged there more than once. I don't love that a request for (admittedly excellent) bread is always turned down until after we've placed a food order, even when we've ordered $100 worth of drinks, and even when we're clearly in the process of ordering food.

And I generally don't love their food, finding it decent but nothing special.

So I was shocked to find that I enjoyed, I mean really enjoyed, our lunch there last weekend. It may have had something to do with the air conditioning and large glasses of water, both of which were much appreciated after our overheated morning. But it was more. It was the horiatiki salata, summery sweet tomatoes tossed together with cucumbers, red onions, and green peppers. The saltiness of the kalamata olives and the tang of the feta, mixed with the fresh herbs in the vinaigrette, made this a salad we couldn't get enough of. It was the seared salmon, served with sundried tomato Israeli couscous and a yogurt dill sauce. The fish was prepared with an easy touch (lightly seasoned and lightly cooked), which surprised and gladdened me. It was the baba ghannouge, to my palate the best version of this standard in the city, not meek or merely a hommus substitute, but exploding with smokey eggplant flavor.

There were still some misses. The arayes, billed as grilled pita stuffed with ground lamb and tahini, had only a smattering of the filling, which may have been a good thing, since it tasted sour and unappetizing. And as much as the baba ghannouge bursts with eggplant flavor, the imam bayildi does not, its eggplant base completely lost beneath heavy tomatoes and onions.

Zaytinya
701 Ninth Street, NW
202-638-0800

ISO: Southern Victuals

2006-07-18T00:11:00.000-04:00

Many people in DC like to tell me that our fair city is the South. As we all know, JFK famously called Washington a "city of Southern efficiency and Northern charm." "And it's below the Mason-Dixon line," folks say. "And have you noticed how hot and humid it gets?" (Note to complainers about heat and humidity: Try a summer in Louisiana. Hell, try twenty of them. Then come back and talk to me about "hot and humid". Although I'll admit that today's hundred-degree sauna was pretty miserable...)

But please. The South? Washington? Where's the accent? The bless-your-heart "politeness"? The real down-home, honest-to-goodness, stick-to-your-ribs Southern food? By and large, it's not here.

There are some exceptions. The shrimp and grits at Colorado Kitchen? Tastes like home, Creole-style (with tomatoes) with a mildly sweet biscuit on the side. And I enjoyed a plate of fried catfish with corn cakes and collard greens at Busboys and Poets last week -- although served a little fancier than fried catfish should ever be (it's a fish with whiskers, a bottom-feeder, for goodness' sake! I'm used to enjoying it at a Friday fish fry, wiping my hands and mouth on paper towels and pulling a beer out of the cooler...), the fish was delightfully crispy and I devoured it. But the greens couldn't have been cooked by a southerner, as I don't think a pork product came anywhere near them at any time. And as I've said before, collard greens aren't collard greens without pork.

And corn cakes? What I wanted was hushpuppies, those delectable balls of fried cornmeal laced with peppers and onions (if savory) or a touch of honey (if sweet)! As the story goes, they got their name from the cooks' practice of tossing them to the dogs in the kitchen to quiet them down, but I think they could be called hush-children, or just plain delicious! Back home, no seafood feast was complete without an order of hushpuppies (my favorites, at Drusilla Seafood in Baton Rouge, are still only twelve for a dollar!), but here, I can't seem to satisfy my craving. According to Tom Sietsema:

Kitchens that know their hush puppies: Majestic Cafe in Old Town, which serves 'em with remoulade; Jackie's in Silver Spring, where the snack is on the brunch menu; and Vidalia downtown Washington. Indigo Landing in Alexandria, which I'm reviewing in this week's Sunday Magazine, serves hush puppies made with ... foie gras!

Foie gras hushpuppies? This southern girl's not buying it. They may be very tasty, but hushpuppies, they're not.

And one more piece of evidence for the "DC's not the South" file -- no self-respecting Southern city would fail as miserably at sweet tea as our nation's capital does. But here, at least, there's an easy solution. If preparing a separate pitcher of sweet tea is too much to ask, please don't suggest that I just add sugar to a glass of iced tea. No! Anyone who's ever taken a chemistry class can tell you that sugar crystals don't easily dissolve in cold liquid! I could sit there for a half-hour, diligently stirring sugar into my tea, only to find a layer of sugar sediment laying at the bottom of my glass when I rest my spoon. Instead, follow Firefly's example, and offer simple syrup to sweeten iced tea. It's an idea brilliant in its simplicity...

Colorado Kitchen
5515 Colorado Avenue, NW
202-545-8280

Busboys and Poets
2021 14th Street, NW
202-387-POET (7638)

Drusilla Seafood
3482 Drusilla Lane
Baton Rouge, LA
225-927-8844

Firefly
1310 New Hampshire Avenue, NW
202-861-1310

About Books: The Ruhlman Trilogy

2006-07-16T00:09:00.000-04:00

I'm a sucker for food writing. I read the blogs, I read the online reviewers, I subscribe to more than one culinary magazine. And amazon.com emails me every time a new book about food, cooking, or restaurants is published. (Sometimes I think I single-handedly keep them in business.)

So it should be no surprise that I recently read my way through Michael Ruhlman's "chef trilogy" -- The Making of a Chef, The Soul of a Chef, and The Reach of a Chef. Ruhlman is a journalist and self-professed "hobby cook" who peeked inside the world of professional cooking in America and invited us along for the ride.

In The Making of a Chef, Ruhlman takes his reader to the Culinary Institute of America, and gives her a taste of what it might be like to be a student there. (Maybe not "might be like" -- my CIA-trained friend tells me Ruhlman's account is spot on.) And that taste is at the same time exhilirating, exciting, and scary. Could I hack it? Unclear. Do I want to find out? The book leaves me unclear on that too, at moments sending me to download the application and hone my knife skills, at others leaving me feeling old and tired and lacking the ability to do much more than my desk job.

The reader's next journey, in The Soul of a Chef, is behind the scenes at the Certified Master Chef exam (seven chefs begin, how many will pass?), and in the kitchens of two top American chefs, Michael Symon (of, most famously, Lola, in Cleveland, OH) and Thomas Keller (of, among other places, French Laundry, in Yountville, CA). The best passages? Those telling us Keller's story, his passion for food and restaurants that leaps off the pages and makes the reader want to sign up to be a part of whatever Keller does next. (Of local interest, we also get a glimpse into Eric Ziebold's time as a sous chef at French Laundry. He's now chef de cuisine at CityZen here in Washington, a restaurant high on my list of places to try.)

Two books completed, I could hardly wait to pick up The Reach of a Chef. But unfortunately, Ruhlman's luster seemed to be wearing off. I noticed repeated stories. "Yeah, yeah," I found myself thinking. "I remember this one. Move on. Tell me something new." Perhaps it's an unfair criticism, as new readers will enjoy the background stories, and the books are not necessarily designed to build one off of the other like the Harry Potter books or the Star Wars movies. But doesn't it seem logical that much of the audience for Ruhlman's third "chef" book would overlap with the audience for the first two? There must be more graceful ways to bring newbies up to speed without alienating faithful readers of the two earlier books. The final book in the trilogy was worth reading -- I came away with new thoughts on the role of a chef, as artist, scientist, and businessperson -- but it didn't transport me into another world as the first two did.

I couldn't help but compare these books to a book about another passion (fantasy baseball) written by another journalist (Wall Street Journal writer Sam Walker) I read around the same time -- Fantasyland. Suprisingly (because food and cooking are my passions, and going to culinary school my daydream... and fantasy baseball, well, not so much), Fantasyland came out on top. It was compelling and well-written, and I couldn't put it down. (And I don't care about baseball. Really. Not at all. Talk to me again in basketball season.) It's the sign of a truly gifted writer when a reader who couldn't care less about the subject of a book cannot put it down -- and I'm not entirely sure Ruhlman's "chef" trilogy would pass that test.

Palena on the Move?

2006-07-12T11:13:00.000-04:00

Conflicting reports abound...

As reported by Todd Kliman in yesterday's chog...

Frank Ruta and Ann Amernick, Palena's owners, are preparing to sign a lease to take over the Westinghouse Mansion (2000 Massachusetts Avenue, NW) in Dupont Circle within the next year.

As Kliman reported, "the move to new digs spells the demise of the restaurant and cafe 'as we know it.'"

But Tom Sietsema, in today's chat, dispelled that as rumor...

Washington, D.C.: Hi Tom!

What have you heard about the probable Palena move in the near future?

Tom Sietsema: "News to me," says Frank Ruta, who, as Palena's chef, should know.

Palena still has five years to go on its current lease, Ruta tells me, and even if it didn't, there are several obstacles in the way of any imminent move.

One of them is a liquor license: Good luck trying to secure one in Dupont Circle, which is where an investor in Palena recently bought a building, Blaine Mansion, setting off the "Palena is moving" rumors. Another is the property's historic status; and still a third reason Palena won't be relocating anytime soon is the chef's commitment to doing things the right way -- slowly and deliberately, never rashly.

We'll have to keep digging to find the truth of the matter. But one thing's for sure -- those of us who live closer to Dupont than Cleveland Park are rooting for a move, so we can enjoy the wonders of Palena far more often!

It's about the people, Part II

2006-07-07T19:30:00.000-04:00

"It's amazing what a difference service makes," my friend said. "Bad service can ruin good food, good food can't save bad service."

I think he may be on to something.

My favorite and most memorable dining experiences are not comprised merely of good food. Nope, it's more complicated than that -- they are a combination of fantastic food, welcoming service, and those intangibles that delight my senses and leave me yearning to return. They are an escape from the niggling stresses of my day-to-day world, almost a vacation of sorts. Good food is certainly necessary, but it is far from sufficient.

And this is why the same restaurant can be the site of wide-eyed delight on one visit, and mere adequacy on another. The evening my server answered my request for a suggestion with a smile, the comment that it's easy to work there because he truly loves every dish on the menu, and a specific recommendation (accompanied by a promise to quit his job on the spot if I wasn't happy -- oh! the pressure!) -- I had a delectable cut of lamb served with mouth-wateringly tantalizing potatoes. The night my server (different server, same restaurant) badgered us about taking too long to order, and answered my friend's request for a not-too-dry red wine with the suggestion of a chardonnay (a red chardonnay?!) -- I noticed my friend's slightly overcooked steak, and my must-have-been-plated-too-soon side dish.

Is it possible that the kitchen was having an off night the night of the fateful chardonnay recommendation? Perhaps. But I think it's also possible that once the tone had been set, I couldn't escape and fully enjoy the chef's cooking.

And setting the tone can start long before I even step across the restaurant's threshold. The pleasant chat and laughter I shared with the woman calling this afternoon to confirm my reservation left me counting the minutes until dinner tomorrow night. All this, before I even walk in the door, because of the exchange of a few pleasantries!

What do you think? Is it all about the food, or do the extra touches make all the difference?

It's about the people

2006-07-06T10:20:00.000-04:00

Food's about the people.

True, food's good for keeping us going, giving us the physical sustenance to live. And it brings us some of the finest fleeting sensory pleasures, through decadent tastes on our tongues and enticing smells tickling our nostrils.

But I love food because it binds us together as communities, big and small, and creates indelible memories that can be triggered by the slightest taste, smell, sight, or thought. Gathering in a St. Louis kitchen with an old friend, trying time after time with only limited success to get the bread dough from Mom's recipe to rise, but then remembering that recipe, the one for those peanut butter treats from third grade, and making those instead! Picking peaches in the Virginia countryside, and returning home to make pie after pie, and gallons of peach ice cream, because we may have gotten a little overzealous and picked a few too many ('cause they're so good!). Joining the crowd in the kitchen to make sandwiches and bake brownies for the annual fundraiser that introduces Louisianians to New York deli. Going back time and again to that French restaurant in Tokyo, the one where the chef knows us, and gives us little tastes of everything (oh, that pear tart) (and teaches us some Japanese -- skoshi -- along the way)! And picking oranges in the Florida sun, the sticky sweetness as I sample each kind dripping down my arms, but the next morning declining the fresh-squeezed OJ made special for me because I don't like all that pulp.

Food's about the people. And the memories. Happy birthday, Grandpa. I miss you.

Happy Independence Day

2006-07-04T16:53:00.000-04:00

There are few things better than a day off of work in the middle of the week. Especially one with bright sunshine above, fewer tourists than expected around, and the company of two good friends.

I met my pals this morning, bottles of water in hand, in an attempt to fend off the dehydration that is likely to come on a 99 degree day. We made our way down to the Mall to check out the Smithsonian Folklife Festival (which last year was devoted in part to cu linary America -- I was so happy!). As we dashed across the Independence Day parade route, M said she was hungry. "Of course," said our other friend. "Isn't food the whole reason to come to these festivals?"

I knew I liked him for a reason.

So we took a look around to see what we could sample. Did we want bison burgers, courtesy of the Alberta exhibit? Or maybe fry bread from the Native American kitchen. And we shouldn't neglect the New Orleans delicacies, or the Cantina Latina. The Big Easy chicken wings were delectable (how can fried chicken wings not be?), although the collard greens didn't seem to be cooked with pork (and they call themselves New Orleanians?) and the red beans and rice needed some more heat. We also tried the Native American fry bread, which was a tasty treat, and left me planning a trip to Mitsitam, the cafe in the National Museu m of the American Indian, soon.

No sooner had we finished this bite, than M noticed some folks wandering around with watermelon. Not small slices of watermelon, no way. But larger-than-life hunks of sweet, fresh, juicy goodness.

So we had some.

Sitting under the shade of a tree perfect for a pinata, watching the kids go round and round on the carousel, listening to a bluegrass band, munching on the watermelon, and slurping down the mixed berry smoothie and mango lassi (courtesy of Indique)... a summer afternoon just doesn't get much better.

Happy Independence Day!

Smithsonian Folklife Festival
National Mall
June 30-July 4 and July 7-11

Dupont Circle FreshFarm Market... or, how I discovered that I love fresh veggies

2006-07-02T16:34:00.000-04:00

Mom would be amused.

When I was a kid, I hated vegetables. Salad was some iceberg lettuce, maybe a carrot stick or two if I was feeling particularly adventurous. I'd eat veggies if they were of the corn or potato variety (that low-carb craze was never gonna catch on with me). But green things? You must be kidding.

Until I discovered the Dupont Circle FreshFarm market. There's something exciting and fun about spending a Sunday morning wandering through the stands, seeing what's fresh and in season, discovering new vegetables I never knew existed (purple cauliflower?), maybe sampling a taste of a bright yellow pepper or a deep ruby cherry, chatting with the farmers, and crafting a menu for Sunday dinner based on what looks best.

Like a couple of weekends ago... when I snagged some sweet sugar snap peas, fresh mint and cilantro, a baguette, and mango sorbet. Dinner that night? I snacked on cheese, olives, that baguette, and Provencal olive oil, while cooking up sugar snap peas with mint, couscous with cranberries, cilantro and walnuts, and salmon with mint and cilantro. And some of that sorbet for dessert. With a glass of a crisp riesling, a fantastic summer dinner.

Or last week, when I grabbed some white peaches, raspberries, and blueberries... and had homemade smoothies for breakfast every morning.

Mom's coming to visit in a few weeks, and I'm hoping to find lots of fresh green things to cook. But I don't want to shock her too much -- I might have to pick up some corn and potatoes so she doesn't wonder who this veggie-loving imposter is, pretending to be her daughter.

Dupont Circle FreshFarm Market
20th Street, between Massachusetts and Q
202-362-8889

Cowgirl Creamery

2006-06-29T14:32:00.000-04:00

Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.

That's what I want to shout each time I walk into Cowgirl Creamery, the brand-new cheese shop only three blocks from my office. Incredibly nice, friendly, and informative service? Check. Offers to taste as many delicious cheeses as you like? Check. Cartons of chocolate milk for sale? Check. (Not sure why this last one makes me so happy, but it does.)

On my first visit, I exhibited restraint. I tasted five or six different cheeses, but limited myself to the Mt. Tam (an amazingly decadent triple-cream), the Pug's Leap goat cheese (which was perfect atop a summer salad), and the Ticklemore (can't remember its description... I fell for this one on tasting it, and kinda like the name too).

But I walked in today, and threw caution to the wind. First I tasted their McEvoy olive oil - delicious! If I didn't already have a bottle of French olive oil from my friend's recent trip to Europe in the house, this would have been the first addition to my empty shopping basket. But not to worry, the basket wasn't empty for long. A taste of the fig and nut bread compelled me to pick some up to go with my leftover Mt. Tam and Ticklemore. But not just the leftover cheeses -- I picked up the St. Pat (Cowgirl's seasonal springtime cheese wrapped in stinging nettle leaves that has an almost artichoky taste -- go! now! before they run out of this spring's batch!) and the Oregonzola (silly name, but creamy delicious blue cheesiness that will be wonderful on the burgers we're grilling tonight). And oh! I hadn't had lunch yet, and the goat cheese, sundried tomato, and olive sandwich on a fresh baguette was tempting.

And did I mention that carton of chocolate milk? Yum.

Cowgirl Creamery
919 F Street, NW
202-393-6880

Stoney's

2006-06-28T12:07:00.000-04:00

This just in, from Tom Sietsema's chat...

Washington, D.C.: Has Stoney's ever reopened? My grilled cheese patience is running thin!!

Tom Sietsema: News flash: Stoney's is re-opening, across from Whole Foods on P St. in Logan Circle, in the P St. Bistro space. Look for an end-of-July launch date.

Whoo-hoo!

Buck's Fishing and Camping

2006-06-28T11:27:00.000-04:00

So I'm waiting for the bus to head up Connecticut to Buck's. In the rain. Leaving behind my condo with its leaky ceiling, my workday with its conflict and confusion, my poor cat who really would've liked an escape from the rainforest conditions of our living space. And for a second, I wonder if it really makes sense to shlep all the way up to Buck's on a night like tonight. "Wouldn't it be easier to stay home and watch a DVD," I think to myself. "M would understand if I canceled... what with the leaky ceiling and all... wouldn't he?"

And then the bus comes, and I clamber aboard, deciding I deserve a night out after the sleepless nights of flood watch I've been on of late. (Presumably, the roofers did something about the leak problem today. Presumably.)

I arrive at Buck's and take a seat at the bar. (M has already called with a delay of his own. Apparently cabs are hard to flag down during the Deluge of '06...) The friendly bartender and I strike up a conversation, and I select a glass of Kir Yianni rose. It's summer, goddamit, and I want a summer wine. Even if it is a nightmare outside. We continue chatting as M texts his whereabouts. "Hitting traffic around Dupont." "Fifteen minutes away, I promise." My bartender friend offers suggestions about the menu ("it's all good") as the friendly gentleman next to me lectures me on fascism in America today. M arrives.

And if the generous glass plus of rose didn't already melt away the stress of the week (it did), our meal certainly gave me the jump-start I needed in the middle of a week that started out on the wrong foot. We shared a starter of mozzarella and tomatoes, with greens, local beans, and a pistachio pesto that was fresh and light and delicious and summery (and yes, I'm a sucker for anything with pistachios), as well as the fried green tomatoes, which were not quite as tender or flavorful as I would have hoped. And then our mains. The softshell crab -- two perfectly juicy and crispy crabs, resting on mounds of potato salad and coleslaw. I don't think I ceded a bite, which is okay, because I barely got a taste of the perfectly cooked to medium rare steak. And although we didn't really need it, a slice of the chocolate icebox cake was a decadent and perfect ending to the night.

No. The perfect ending to the night was returning home to find no leaky ceiling. Maybe... just maybe... the roofers did their job. Or maybe I'll wake up in the morning to find it was just a dream, a mozzarella and softshell and chocolate cake-inspired dream. Either way, it was a good night.

Buck's Fishing and Camping
5031 Connecticut Avenue, NW
202-364-0777

Colorado Kitchen

2006-06-26T11:25:00.000-04:00

So I've gotta say... I'm a Colorado Kitchen brunch lover, but my experience a few weeks ago was disappointingly so-so. For the first time, I branched out from my standard shrimp and grits (my favorite rendition of that old favorite in the DC area), and went the crabcake benedict route. And the branching out was a mistake. Next time I go, I'll have to return to the tried and true.

First, the good. Really, the extraordinary. Those donuts. I love those donuts. I dream about those donuts. I can't decide whether I like the powdered sugar ones or the nuts and honey ones best, it probably isn't even a decision I need to make. It always surprises me that my least favorite is the chocolate -- but maybe it's that the milk chocolate doesn't stand up to the deliciousness of the donut as well as rich dark chocolate might. Hmmm...

But the benedict. You know, the crabcakes were nicely spiced, full of chunks of crab, resting on top of a thin slice of tomato, and a crunchy English muffin. But they were covered with a liberal helping of a hollandaise sauce that reminded me of... well... concentrated melted butter. It was so heavy and buttery that I found it impossible to finish, and the dish was overwhelmed.

I did snag a bite of my +1's fried catfish, though, and it was fabulous. Chef works wonders with all things (donuts, catfish...) fried.

Colorado Kitchen
5515 Colorado Avenue, NW
202-545-8280

Father's Day in China

2006-06-22T11:27:00.000-04:00

This year, my Dad was in China on Father's Day. Always the good daughter, I called him up my Saturday night, his Sunday morning, to wish him a happy Father's Day. When we hung up, he was on his way to breakfast, I'm sure to enjoy congee and that sticky rice and pork dish that comes wrapped in a lotus leaf. (At least, those are always my breakfast favorites, and I'm assuming like daughter, like father!) And I was left craving those dishes.

So this week, my mission was to find them. And it was half-accomplished yesterday. I had the congee with minced beef at Full Kee and, although it didn't quite live up to my memories of the dish (Dad says add a dash of chili or brown vinegar), it certainly satisfied the craving. (I also had the soup with shrimp dumplings, which I can never pass up there...)

I still haven't tracked down my other favorite, that sticky rice and pork wrapped in a lotus leaf. But I'm working on it...

Full Kee
509 H Street, NW
202-371-2233

Citronelle Lounge

2006-06-19T11:26:00.000-04:00

So it's a lovely evening when my friends and I step out of a movie in Georgetown around 9 o'clock the other night, and we begin the age-old "dinner debate". These are somewhat new friends, and don't yet know of my food obsession, so I begin by listening ... "It's a beautiful night," says one. "Let's go get drinks and appetizers on the waterfront." My heart sinks. But in the spirit of not imposing my will on all, I quietly agree. We make our way through the throngs of revelers, including a number of prom groups, me silently cursing my decision to be deferential tonight. But apparently the gods are smiling on me because, shock of shocks, there is an hour wait at the fine waterside dining establishment selected by my friend. "An hour," says my other friend. "That's ridiculous. Let's go to plan B. Isn't Citronelle not too far? And don't they have a bar menu?"

And there was joy in Mudville.

After a delicious cosmopolitan with drunken raspberries that made for a drunken me, I found myself relaxed from my harried day at work and even more harried few minutes on the waterfront. Friendly service steered us to the Cobia with Crab Risotto and Saffron Potato Puree and the Chateaubriand with Wild Mushrooms, Porcini Flavored Diced Yukon Gold Potatoes, and a Syrah Sauce. And neither disappointed. What a beautiful way to begin the weekend, and try one of DC's finest dining establishments on a whim!

Citronelle
3000 M Street, NW
202-625-2150

Asia Nora

2006-06-15T11:25:00.000-04:00

Ate at Asia Nora the other night... N and I shared two appetizers, the Ahi Tuna Tartare with Crispy Nori Tempura and the Thai Style Beef Carpaccio with Lime, Chilis & Fragrant Herbs. We agreed that the tartare was the clear winner (but also agreed that if stranded on a desert island, if we had tuna tartare and a bunch of books, we'd both be happy for quite a while, so tartare might always be a clear winner). What made this tartare even better was the sheets of nori tempura on which it was nestled. Others have written about the chef's abilities with tempura, and they're right -- this treatment of the nori brought out the subtleties of nori's flavor, with the crisp lightness of perfectly-done tempura. The carpaccio, on the other hand, was forgettable. The flavor of the lime and chilis got lost someplace between the kitchen and our table.

For mains, we shared the Pan Seared Wild Sablefish with Tamarind Rice Noodles and Green Curry and the Seared Day Boat Scallops with Baby Bok Choy & Yuzu-Sake Butter. I thought both were great, if not quite excellent. The sablefish was moist, and perfectly seared to have a light, crispy, airy crust. The accompanying noodles were, to my taste, a bit salty (but N didn't seem to mind them one bit). The scallops had that texture that only a perfect scallop has -- plump and soft, with a slightly seared outside. They sopped up the delicious yuzu-sake sauce well, and were nicely accompanied by a turnip mash. And I don't know what it is about bok choy, but I love it, and last night was no exception, and I definitely ate more than my half.

On our waiter's recommendation, we had a bottle of the Wittman 2004 Spatlese Riesling. It was sweeter than we wanted, and I regretted not sticking with my original idea of a Gruner Veltliner.

The space attempts to evoke Asia, but to my mind is a little too cluttered to do so cleanly. I felt cramped, and I'm unsure whether it was the low ceilings, the proximity of other tables, or the sheer number of decorative touches. I thought fewer wall-hangings would have given the eye comfortable resting-places; as it is, I found my eyes darting from piece to piece, unsure of where to pause. (N pointed out that he found the restaurant open and spacious, because his seat faced into the open center area. So it may be that I just got the unlucky seat!)

All in all, a pleasant and tasty meal, although I'm not sure the experience as a whole lived up to what I wanted it to be. (Perhaps a problem of unreasonable expectations.) I'd go back, but it doesn't join my list of favorites.

Asia Nora
2213 M Street, NW
202-797-4860

Heritage India

2006-06-14T11:24:00.000-04:00

Last week, my dinner companion and I went to Heritage India and ordered enough food for four (leaving me with leftovers for the rest of the week!) One highlight (because I can't remember every dish we had) was the stuffed bell peppers, which were a fantastic combination of slightly spicy filling, stuffed inside a barely grilled and still crisp and fresh-tasting green pepper. The textures and flavors complemented each other superbly, and the dish easily became a favorite for when I return. I was also introduced to the wonders that are Indian pickles. I'd always avoided them in the past (generally not liking the flavor of pickled things), but they added a great zest to the flavors of our lamb and prawn dishes.

And service, although a problem in the past, was actually quite good. Attentive without being overbearing, we were checked on enough to satisfy any need we had, but left alone enough to enjoy our feast.

The only downside to the evening was that I was too full to stop by Max's Best Ice Cream for a scoop before heading home...

Heritage India
2400 Wisconsin Avenue, NW
202-333-3120

Max's Best Ice Cream
2416 Wisconsin Avenue, NW
202-333-3111

Komi

2006-06-12T11:23:00.000-04:00

Before last week, I had never enjoyed a five hour dinner that felt like two. How were we there for five hours? The food kept coming, our wine glasses kept being refilled. We saw a family celebrating the son's acceptance into law school, a couple celebrating their upcoming move to Tunisia -- both tables came and went, and still we ate... drank... enjoyed.

Before last week, I didn't know that simple olives could taste so good; that house-made crackers could have such subtle and deep flavors. That mascarpone stuffed dates -- I don't have the words. That pappardelle with goat ragu with a hint of cinnamon could be a new favorite (and accompanied by that Greek red wine, the one whose name I can't remember, but that our server said was an ancestor of pinot noir, and that I said was delicious). That the flavors and textures of baklava could be expressed so beautifully in gelato. That beignets sometimes go better with chocolate mascarpone cream.

Before last week, I had never experienced Komi. And after last week, I know I need to experience it again, and soon.

Komi
1509 17th Street, NW
202-332-9200