Ann Mah's Blog, page 2

The best British scones

When I threw a tea party a few weeks ago, I decided to whip up a batch of scones at the last minute. From where did this unusual burst of insouciance spring? I am not sure. Nevertheless, half an hour before my guests were due to arrive, I found myself hurriedly rubbing butter into flour, and adding – as the recipe specified – “enough buttermilk to make a soft but not sticky dough.” The result was disastrous. The last time I had baked scones was some 30 years ago, and I had no idea of the desired consistency. My dough was too wet, and it stuck everywhere, forcing me to add extra flour, which made the dough too stiff. Far from the delicate, crumbly tea cakes of my dreams, my scones were tough and oddly chewy.

After this experience, I was determined to find the best British scone recipe – one that provided specific measurements. This proved bizarrely difficult. From Sophie Grigson, to Felicity Cloake, to the mother of my friend, Steve – all of them called for approximations of liquid, “enough milk to give a soft, bread-like dough,” or “enough liquid until the dough looks right.” Bollocks, British bakers! Bollocks!

Before I go any further, can we discuss the difference between British and American scones? If you’re an afternoon tea aficionado, perhaps you know that British scones are dainty and round, lightly sweet and reservedly buttery – and generally thought of as a vehicle for even more butter – or, better yet, clotted cream – and heaps of jam, preferably strawberry. American scones are, like so many things, larger, sweeter, and fattier than their old world counterparts, cut into triangles, and larded with dried fruit, nuts, or chocolate chips.

So. If you spend enough time googling “British scones” you will eventually come across all this information, as well as the best British scone recipe ever written for American cooks – and photos, too! – on the Cook’s Illustrated website. Desperate for scone redemption, I spent a morning making these most excellent Cook’s Illustrated scones, studded with currants, and exquisitely delicate.

Most scone recipes are akin to biscuits, calling for cold fat rubbed into flour. Unusually, the Cook’s Illustrated version starts with softened butter, blitzed into the dry ingredients in the food processor until the mixture resembles fine crumbs – you don’t want any visible chunks of butter. Transfer this to a large bowl and add a handful of currants, or not, depending on whether or not you think tiny raisins resemble flies. (Personally, I am faintly repulsed by them visually, but also feel they give a jolly fruity punch.) Stir in the liquid and knead gently (the recipe, admirably precise, specifies 25-30 times).

There are a few other secrets to tall scones – don’t roll the dough out too thin (an inch will suffice), make sure to use a sharp-edged cutter, and when you pierce the dough, do it with a swift and certain hand – and don’t twist! By the way, these colorful, dual-edged cutters were a gift from my mom and I love them.

The scones bake in a hot oven, puffing into delicious, delicate, feathery little cakes. They are fantastic fresh from the oven, but also reheat beautifully at 350ºF for five minutes. Load them with strawberry jam and the leftover clotted cream in the fridge (is that stuff nuclear? because its shelf life is indefinite), and don’t forget to hold out your pinky as you sip your tea.

As they say on my favorite show, “Now that’s a good bike.”

British-style scones

Adapted from Cook’s Illustrated

This Cook’s Illustrated recipe is perfect in every way but for one: As I researched scone recipes, I noticed that it doubled the quantity of flour and butter – and yet produced the same amount of scones. Mysterious! I ended up halving the recipe, and still got 14 scones, dainty and perfect for teatime, but if you desire a large quantity, follow the link to the original.

7.5 oz flour

1 oz sugar

1 tablespoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

1/3 cup Zante currants (optional)

1/2 cup milk

1 egg

Position oven rack to the upper-middle row, and preheat the oven to 500ºF. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In the work bowl of a food processor combine flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Pulse a few times.

Cut the butter into 1/2-inch chunks and add it to the flour mixture. Pulse until the butter is completely incorporated into the flour and resembles fine breadcrumbs, about 20 times.

Remove the flour to a large bowl. In a measuring cup, whisk together the egg and milk. Reserve one tablespoon of this mixture. Using a rubber spatula, stir the liquid into the flour mixture until incorporated (a few small bits of flour will remain).

Place the dough on a well-floured surface and gather it into a ball. Flour your hands and knead the dough until smooth, about 25-30 times. Press the dough into a disk and use a floured rolling pin to roll into a round, about 1-inch thick. Cut into rounds with a cutter of 2-2.5 inches. Gather any remaining scraps of dough, knead again, roll, cut, repeat as necessary. Arrange the scones on the prepared baking sheet, and brush their tops with the reserved milk-egg mixture.

Reduce the oven temperature to 425ºF, and bake the scones until lightly golden and well risen, about 10 t0 12 minutes. Remove and cool on a wire rack.

The Tumbling Turner Sisters

I first read the new novel of my friend, Juliette Fay, a few months ago, and I’ve been wanting to write about it here ever since. The Tumbling Turner Sisters tells the tale of a poverty-stricken family of four girls who find an unusual solution to their financial problems – they join the world of vaudeville theater.

It’s 1919, and proper young ladies don’t wear short skirts or perform somersaults. But when their father becomes injured and the family can’t make rent, sisters Gert, Winnie, Kit, and Nell begin rehearsing an acrobatic act. After a few false starts, they find themselves traveling the country, meeting a ragtag group of performers, and becoming seduced by the stage lights. It’s an adventure that gives them unparalleled freedoms and excitement – as well as the heartbreak of a few twists of ill fate.

I absolutely loved this book, from its colorful vaudeville setting, to its four lovable and spunky sisters. If you’re looking for a wonderful escape (and, these days, who isn’t?) you’ll love this bighearted tale of adventure.

In one of my favorite scenes, Winnie, the shy and bookish sister, goes on a romantic date with Joe – the piano-playing half of a brother-sister musical act. The young couple dines at the legendary, now dearly departed,  Maramor restaurant in Columbus, Ohio, and when Joe suggests they sample a new cocktail called a Singapore Sling, Winnie can’t resist. “It was very sweet and very pink and just bubbly enough to taste like a sort of fruity Dr Pepper,” says Winnie. “These frothy, candied cocktails went down very quickly.” Of course they get sloshed.

The Singapore Sling is a gin-based cocktail invented in 1915 at the Long Bar of Singapore’s Raffles Hotel. As the legend goes, the era’s social mores meant that ladies could not consume alcohol in public – instead, they had to sip more proper libations like fruit juice and tea. The Long Bar’s bartender, Ngian Tong Boon, saw an opportunity and invented a cocktail that appeared pretty and pink – and packed a wallop. Today it’s the national drink of Singapore.

In its original version, the Singapore Sling calls for gin, cherry liqueur, Cointreau, pineapple juice, lime juice, and grenadine. But Juliette suggested a simpler, fresher version, which I’ve modified below. These drinks really are fun to sip while reading this marvelous, funny, heartwarming book (which would also make a great holiday gift!). They really do taste like frothy, bubbly fruit juice (just watch out for the wallop at the end :)

Singapore Sling

Adapted from the Food Network

Shake 2 shots of pineapple juice, 1 shot of gin, and a squeeze of lime juice in a shaker filled with ice. Strain into an ice-filled glass. Add a dash of seltzer and a generous pour of unsweetened pomegranate juice. Garnish with pineapple and lime wedge.

The Tumbling Turner Sisters comes out in paperback on January 3, and it’s wonderful for book clubs! To learn more about Juliette Fay, follow her on Facebook and Twitter.

Christmas tea party

Well! It has been a while – so long that I’ve almost forgotten how to blog! :) Since my last post in May, I’ve been to Paris twice, visited St Croix once, published a few articles (my favorites were about Picard, the French frozen food chain, and volunteering at the Champagne harvest), had my heart completely crushed, and BUM BUM BA BUM finished the manuscript for my novel! Yes, after 525 pages and a lot of angst, I finally have a first draft. It only took a year (plus, you know, five extra years of thinking about it).

I know writing a novel might sound kind of glamorous, but as any writer will tell you, the process is actually the least glamorous thing ever. I have spent the past months wearing some variation of the same outfit, working on Sundays, scribbling insane notes to myself in the middle of the night, and feeding my family on “sustenance food” (including more canned refried beans than I care to admit). Friends, it has not been pretty.

In celebration of my newfound freedom, I decided last weekend to host a Christmas tea party. I loved tea parties when I was a little girl, and now that I have a little girl (guys, she’s three!), a tea and a tree seemed like the perfect way to welcome the holiday season. I dug out the best china (#WedgwoodForLife), and our linen holiday napkins because as my wise husband said, “It’s a Christmas party – if we’re not using them now, what are we saving them for?”

The other reason I wanted to throw a tea party is because I needed an excuse to make a Victoria sponge sandwich, a cake that I discovered through my most favorite television show ever, The Great British Bakeoff. Are you guys watching it, too? In a year that has felt quite dismal, this baking competition has been a balm, depicting humanity’s best qualities of generosity and open-mindedness, and reminding us that many of life’s problems can be solved with a slice of cake and cuppa. In one of my favorite episodes, the bakers are asked to create TWELVE identical Victoria sponge sandwiches. After watching (and drooling), I had to bake one, too.

The Victoria sponge is simple to make and delightful to eat. Its two layers of structured sponge feature a sturdier crumb than American cakes, which allows them to embrace a filling of whipped cream and jam – some use raspberry; I prefer strawberry. The cake is a celebration of baking powder, which became available to British home cooks in the 1840s, and is the leavening for the rich, buttery batter.

After a lot of research, I decided upon Melissa Clark’s Victoria sponge recipe, if only because it uses all-purpose flour, instead of the self-raising stuff that is inexplicably called for in so many British baking recipes. Whip together sugar and softened butter, add flour, baking powder, and salt, beat in eggs and a drop of milk and voilà! The hardest part about making this cake is dividing the batter evenly between the two tins.

Of course, no tea party is complete without sandwiches, and we had some of smoked salmon and of cucumber. For the latter, I called upon Felicity Cloake’s “How to Make the Perfect…” column, for the, well, perfect cucumber sandwiches. She calls for lightly salting the cucumber for 20 minutes, and heavily buttering the bread (I should have used more), and the result is, indeed, delicious. (They would have been perfect if my bread hadn’t been slightly stale at the corners, and that’s because I used the the leftover white bread from my Thanksgiving stuffing, I ADMIT IT.)

Scones are the final afternoon tea essential, and I even found clotted cream to heap upon them. After extensive research and deliberation, I chose Sophie Grigson’s buttermilk scone recipe. But I think I added too much liquid and they went awry. Instead of a crumbly texture, they were flat, moist, and slightly chewy. I’ve still got half a jar of clotted cream in the fridge, so send me your favorite recipe for British scones (or should I say scons?), if you have one.

Or maybe next time I’ll just serve the toy cakes?

Happy holidays! I hope to be seeing you here a lot more often.

Tuesday dinner with Kristen Beddard + giveaway!

Bonjour! I’m popping in from my blog sabbatical to feature a lovely new book, Bonjour Kale (and I’m also giving away a copy! See details at the end of this post). This is the charming memoir of my friend, Kristen Beddard — also known as the Girl Who Brought Kale to France!

When Kristen moved from New York to Paris in 2011, she missed her beloved kale, the cruciferous green she had grown up eating during her Pittsburgh childhood. But she was astounded to discover that it didn’t exist in France! And thus, The Kale Project was born, her crusade to bring this under-esteemed leaf to France. Flash forward five years — after much hard work and a profile in the New York Times — and the curly-leafed cabbage is now the trendiest green to grace French menus!

Kristen’s memoir is suffused with warmth and wit and many of her descriptions made me nostalgic for life in Paris, with all its elegance and eccentricity. This is a sweet tale of perseverance and fresh produce, sure to delight Francophiles.

Today I’m thrilled to share a glimpse of Kristen’s life in Paris, where she lives with her husband, Philip, and young daughter, Grady (14 months), along with her tips for fast meals, and a quick recipe for Mexican bowls with mango pico de gallo!

On the joy of prepped salad greens:

In the ideal “perfect” week, I like to wash, dry and store all of my lettuce and greens the day I buy them. I am always more apt to use everything if I can go into the fridge and grab a handful here and there throughout the week versus having to take out the salad spinner two times a day. I eat lunch at home a lot and normally have a salad with leftover grains, anchovies and a poached egg, so having pre-washed lettuce is a huge timesaver.

On balancing the evening meal for toddlers and grownups:

Grady has self-proclaimed herself a vegetarian (she literally will not touch meat, fish or eggs… yet), I have a large supply of canned organic beans (chick peas, kidney beans, white beans) on hand for her meals which we will use as well for soups. My husband Philip returns home around 8:30pm, so we are not able to eat dinner en famille yet. Once Grady is in bed around 7:30pm, I tidy up and start to make our dinner.

On making mornings easier:

For breakfast, Grady and I eat a grain mix of steel-cut oats, millet, and quinoa, so I try to make a pot of it on Sunday that will last through most of the week. Heating up grains in the morning is a lot easier and faster than cooking from scratch each day.

On her fridge staples:

I try to always have a block of aged Parmesan and eggs. These can be added to any salad for a quick dinner. I try to cook vegetarian two or so times a week, so I like to have one packet of tofu on hand for a curry stir fry.

On trying new recipes:

One night a week I like to try a new recipe so that cooking feels exciting and less like a chore. I like to try a new technique or a different fish or cut of meat so I can learn something new. This also means we might not eat until 10pm, so the other nights I keep things simple.

On jazzing up take-out:

If I really don’t feel like cooking, I’ll buy homemade lasagna or ravioli from the neighborhood Italian épicerie and then make a bowl of steamed broccoli. We also don’t feel guilty ordering a pizza sometimes. I’ll still make a salad (seriously, massaged raw kale is really delicious on top of pizza!)

On cooking flexibly:

These Mexican Bowls with guacamole and mango pico de gallo probably don’t sound like a simple dinner but what’s great about it is that you can do what you want on any given night. As with most simple recipes there is room for substitution and adaptation, so do what works for you!

Mexican bowls with guacamole and mango pico de gallo

Adapted from a recipe by Kristen Beddard

Note from Ann: I loved this colorful and healthy Mexican bowl, which I brought to work for lunch for a week, wrapping the final small portion in a whole wheat tortilla. For ease and speed, I skipped the guacamole for cubed avocado, and prepared the rice in an an electric rice cooker. “Prepare the stir fry right before you want to eat,” says Kristen, “so the vegetables retain the ‘crisp’ stir fry crunch.”

Serves 2 hungry people

1 cup brown rice

2 cups water

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 yellow onion

1 red peppee

2 handfuls (around 10) mushrooms (button, crimini, shitake, etc. work)

1 teaspoon ground cumin

Salt and pepper

1 can of black, pinto or kidney beans, drained and rinsed

1 lime

Garnish ideas:

Guacamole (recipe follows)

Mango pico de gallo (recipe follows)

Shredded cheddar cheese

Sour cream or creme fraîche

Chopped cilantro

Hot sauce

Wash and cook the rice on the stove, or in an electric rice cooker.

While the rice is cooking, chop the onion, pepper and mushrooms into 1/2-inch pieces. Prepare the guacamole and/or mango pico de gallo.

In a large sauté pan over medium heat, heat the olive oil. Add the onions and stir for 2-3 minutes until they begin to soften. Add the peppers, mushrooms, cumin, and season with salt and pepper. Lower the heat and continue to mix the stir fry so the vegetables brown, about 15-20 minutes. Stir in the beans, and a squeeze of lime juice to taste.

“To serve, I think it’s best for people to make their own bowl or plate adding however much of each component people want,” says Kristen. “Philip likes to make a rainbow type plate where as I prefer to make a mountain of ingredients with cilantro on top.”

Kristen’s Guacamole

by Kristen Beddard

2 avocados

Juice from 1 lime

1 small red onion (or 2 spring onions or 2-3 scallions) peeled and diced

Handful cherry or cocktail tomatoes, cut into fours

2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce

Handful cilantro, finely chopped (stems too!)

Salt and pepper

Optional: A few slices of jalapeño, finely diced (cover hands while chopping)

Place the avocado flesh into a bowl and, with a fork, mash it into a chunky mix. Add the juice of  half a lime and a sprinkle of salt, and mash with the fork. Add the second avocado, the rest of the lime juice and another sprinkle of salt and mash until the mixture reaches your desired consistency. (Some people like creamy guacamole, others prefer chunky). Add the onions, tomatoes, Worcestershire sauce and cilantro and mix again. Set aside (or in my case, hide from Philip as he will eat all of this before we sit down for dinner!).

Kristen’s Mango Pico de Gallo

by Kristen Beddard

1 mango, peeled and diced

1 cup of chopped tomatoes (I find that cherry, grape or cocktail tomatoes work best since most regular tomatoes are barely red these days unless it’s August/September)

2-3 small spring onions, finely chopped

Juice from 1 lime

Handful cilantro, finely chopped (stems too!)

Salt and pepper

Optional: A few slices of jalapeño, finely diced (cover hands while chopping)

Chop the tomatoes, onions and mango into a fine dice, and combine in a bowl. Add the lime juice, cilantro, salt and pepper, and jalapeño (if using), and combine.

GIVEAWAY!

Thanks to Kristen’s publisher, I’m giving away a copy of Bonjour Kale to one lucky reader!

To enter:

1. Leave a comment below with your favorite vegetable.

2. For an extra entry, follow Kristen on Twitter (@thekaleproject) then leave a separate comment to let me know.

3. For an extra, extra entry, tweet the following and leave a comment to let me know: I’m entered to win Bonjour Kale by @thekaleproject from @AnnMahNet. More info: www.annmah.net

The contest ends June 1, 2016. A winner will be selected at random and announced here. Good luck!

(Photos three and five courtesy of Kristen Beddard. Photo four, credit Abigail LaBranche.)

Zucchini chocolate chip muffins (+ Where am I?)

I know! I know! I disappeared. A few people have even written to ask if I’m okay. In fact, I am a little embarrassed to report that all is perfectly fine. I have quite simply been a very feckless blogger. The holidays swam by in the fug of my very first sinus infection, and then, I discovered some nefarious activity on my website (hackers — shakes fist), which is still being resolved — and then we decided to seize the opportunity and redesign this site (more details tk). In between, I’ve also been juggling laundry, dishes, kid wrangling, calls to Time Warner Cable, travel articles, and, you know, life, both fun and not-so-fun. Most importantly, I have been working nose-to-grindstone on my new novel. Like all new writing projects, working on this one feels like I’ve never written anything before in my life, and the daily struggle leaves me drained — happy, but exhausted. As I recently wrote to a friend: “I am in first draft lockdown right now — therefore, no blogging, no travel (no fun) and how long is it possible to survive on pasta and soup?”

I’ve been making these zucchini chocolate chip muffins for several months adapted from this recipe. They feature wheat germ and zucchini, as well as a handful of chocolate chips. I keep them in the freezer for weekday breakfasts — a quick blast in the microwave, and they emerge lovely, moist and warm. And during this recent spate of lentil soup pots — which, though delicious and nourishing, are not exactly photogenic — they are currently the most attractive subjects produced in my kitchen :)

So, there you have it! A little update on my welfare and whereabouts. I wish I could say that I’ll be back soon… but the truth is, I’m not sure when I’ll be blogging regularly again. If you use Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter, I would love to keep in touch with you there. And of course I’ll keep you posted on my website redesign and new books as they develop. Onward, friends!

Zucchini chocolate chip muffins

Adapted from Whole Foods Market

Makes about 15 small muffins

3/4 cup whole wheat flour

1/2 cup white flour

1/4 cup wheat germ

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

1 egg

1/3 cup canola oil

1/3 cup unsweetened applesauce

2 tablespoons plain yogurt

2/3 cup sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup grated zucchini

1/3 cup chocolate chips

Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Mix together the dry ingredients. Add the wet ingredients, followed by the sugar and vanilla extract. Fold in the zucchini, then the chocolate chips. Spoon into a wrapper-lined muffin tin. Bake for 22-25 minutes.

The post Zucchini chocolate chip muffins (+ Where am I?) appeared first on Ann Mah.

My week with Simply Ancient Grains by Maria Speck

I have finally admitted that the key to my sanity easy weeknight meals is a fridge stocked with weekend leftovers. So when my lovely friend, Maria Speck, sent me a copy of her new cookbook, Simply Ancient Grains — along with a meal plan that uses a single pot of grains over a week — I ran to the kitchen.

I am a huge fan of Maria’s first book, Ancient Grains for Modern Meals, which I’ve written about here and here. Her new book is perfect for anyone trying to incorporate delicious, healthy grains into the sturm und drang of daily life — that’s all of us, right? — with recipes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

The recipes in Simply Ancient Grains are flexible and mostly interchangeable with other grains — barley, quinoa, spelt, farro/emmer, etc. When it came to selecting my grain for the week, Maria suggested millet, one of her favorites, “drought tolerant and gluten-free,” she said, adding, “there has been a fair bit of buzz lately, with some hailing it as the next super grain.” Millet is “among the oldest staples of humankind,” she writes in her book, “quick-cooking and versatile,” with a “fluffy, comforting texture.” I found a bag at my local Whole Foods and ran home to prepare a big pot of it. Here’s how my week unfolded…

Saturday

“I suggest you prepare at least 2 cups raw millet ahead on the weekend as per [the book’s] basic cooking instructions,”  Maria wrote to me. “This will give you seven to eight cups cooked (the total should be enough).”

Millet is quick-cooking and easy to prepare as it requires no soaking time. I’m not sure if it was necessary, but I first toasted the dry grains, and then cooked them like rice, with 3.5 times more liquid than grain.

As it was Saturday — the only day of the week that I prepare an elaborate family lunch — I made the book’s Roasted One-Pan Chicken with Leeks and Barley —  a sumptuous crisp-skinned poule served over a bed of wine-infused grains. I used millet instead of barley, of course, and because I could only find a single leek (!!!) at the grocery store, I also threw in some butternut squash. I loved Maria’s aggressive, high-heat method of roasting the bird, which produced the most succulent chicken I’ve had in a long time. (I ate the best bits of blistered skin while carving — cook’s privilege!)

Bonus: The leftover chicken breast was delicious in brown bag lunch salads.

Sunday

Maria suggested the book’s cumin-scented cauliflower soup, which is enriched with millet and bits of salmon. But since I had all that leftover chicken on hand, I combined her recipe with this one for mulligatawny. Instead of red lentils, I used a base of pureed cauliflower cooked in homemade chicken stock, and I stirred in the millet and bits of cooked chicken at the end. No photos — it was delicious, but rather, er, rustic.

Monday

For a comforting winter breakfast, Maria offers a substitute for oatmeal: “Warm some millet with milk of your choice, chopped dried fruit, and a bit of honey if you like,” she suggested. “Top with chopped walnuts, a dash of cinnamon, and a bit more honey, as desired.” I took it five steps simpler, and simply heated millet with milk, brown sugar, and a dash of nutmeg, topping the bowl with toasted almonds. It was soothing and satisfying  — unlike my usual breakfast of avocado toast, I remained full until lunch.

Tuesday

Leftover soup (see above).

Wednesday

Maria has a wonderful recipe for “Frittata Muffins for Any Grain” but at this point, midweek and frazzled, I opted instead to create my own ad hoc frittata. I combined the leftover millet/leek/butternut mixture from Saturday with a few eggs, a handful of grated cheese, and quite a bit more millet. Whisked it all with a fork, poured it into a heated pan, and finished it off in the oven. Voilà, dinner!

Thursday

We got take out. (Ducks head in shame.)

Friday

By the end of the week, I still had quite bit of cooked millet left — but how to use it? Maria’s book has a hundred suggestions, but I decided to make these little patties from another cookbook, Super Natural Every Day by Heidi Swanson, substituting millet. They came together remarkably quickly, with enough leftovers for lunch. And so another week begins… !

The post My week with Simply Ancient Grains by Maria Speck appeared first on Ann Mah.

Paris

Yesterday, the Tricolore flew in New York’s Washington Square Park and we stood for a while watching it flutter. I wish I had some words of wisdom to add about the recent events in Paris, but the truth is, words have felt empty these past few days.

Like the rest of the world — my friends, and neighbors in Paris — perhaps, like you — I’m in shock. I’ve been asking myself what I can do — me, just a regular person, an ordinary Francophile — and then I read a blog post by my friend Elizabeth Minchilli. She writes: “While I can’t give comfort or advice to friends who live in Paris to go on about their daily life fearlessly, I can give you a push to not give up on Paris if you were planning a trip there. Or, if you weren’t planning a trip there, maybe you should?”

So, yes. That is what I will do. Remember why I love Paris. Encourage you to remember why you love Paris. Is it the shatter of that first buttery croissant you eat upon your return? Standing on the Pont d’Alma and watching the boats float beneath you? The array of oozing cheese at the fromagerie?

Yes, yes, it’s all of it.

Paris, à bientôt.

The post Paris appeared first on Ann Mah.

Three new Paris restaurants

Creature of habit that I am, when I’m in Paris, I usually stick to my favorite places. Visiting the same spots is comforting, the owners know me (or I recognize them), and that makes me feel like a local. But when I was recently gifted with almost six weeks in the City of Light, I knew I had to “profiter” (as they say in French), or seize the opportunity (as we say in English) and try a few new Paris restaurants. Here are three of my favorites:

Clamato

Opened by critic’s darling, Bertrand Grébaut of Septime, this is a seafood-centric spot, with a lot of counter seating and a no-reservations policy. Consider yourself forewarned — the voices you hear here will not be French, neither the customers, nor the staff. If this doesn’t bother you — and why would it? Paris is an international city, after all — you’ll be charmed by the pretty plates and their fresh combinations. A friend and I popped in here for a late Sunday lunch, lingering over the paper menu of small shared dishes. I won’t bury the lede — my favorite was the fried “merlan colbert,” a whole whiting, butterfly fileted, breaded, and deep fried, served with its teeth bared (€21). The flesh, flaky and fine underneath crisp coating, was lifted by the bright punch of a cornichon-studded tartar sauce. I also liked a first course of raw tuna slices, elegantly entwined with roasted red peppers, basil, dill, and soft nuggets of faisselle, or fresh, milky cheese (€14). The marinated mackerel with mirabelle plums, pumpkin seeds, and sarriette, or summer savory, was less successful for my palate, with the oily power of the fish overwhelming the delicate fruit (€12). But if (like my friend, Anna), you like mackerel, you may love this dish (she did!). The bread here deserves special mention — crusty, with a satisfying crumb, and earthy buckwheat chew.

Clamato is a fresh, festive spot, perfect for a date à deux — preferably with someone who likes to share plates and trade tastes.

Salt Restaurant

My friend, Erin, discovered this new restaurant on her way to work and though we have a tradition of crêperie dates (or maybe I made that up?), she convinced me to meet her here for lunch. Salt opened this summer, with the kitchen run by Daniel Morgon, a British chef who has spent time in Japan, Sweden, Denmark, and Italy. The €19 lunch formule (entrée + plat, or plat + dessert) allowed us to sample most of the menu. For a first course, we ordered pigeon, speared with a bay leaf stem, grilled rare, and draped over a giblet sauce, the type of rich, deeply flavored emulsion that reaches into your heart and tugs a little. The other first course (no photo) was a light and sparkly hand-cut mackerel tartar mixed with avocado and ginger vinaigrette. Main courses also bridged late summer and early fall. Autumn beckoned from a dish of tender pork shoulder, poached and then roasted succulent, paired with celery root puree and girolle mushrooms. Meanwhile, summer lingered in the lightly smoked filet of haddock, floating in a verdant pool of chive dashi broth, delicate and deceptively deep flavored.

Bright flavors, clever combinations, beautiful plates, an honest expression of craftsmanship and care. What a lovely, unexpected discovery!

Le Triangle

Before the photo above was taken, I — along with friends Camille and Nick — had consumed one bottle of red wine, one bottle of Champagne, and one small jar of goose pâté. So, yes, the photo is blurry and our spirits were high at this jolly microbrasserie/gastropub, one of Camille and Nick’s favorite spots in Paris. The team behind this spot has roots in Québec, Vietnam, and a few haute kitchens of Paris. They brew their own beers in this very spot (!) — I liked the IPA, as well as the Stout — and have created a menu of small plates with attitude (in a good way). We shared housemade thick-cut potato chips dipped in chive crème fraîche, and then tucked into a plate of teriyaki pork, sautéed at high heat until the edges caramelized. We also shared pigeon, some other savory dishes, and — at some point — tiramisu… but, folks, it was, er, late, and my memory is weak. We had fun, though!

Details of this evening are hazy but the feelings surrounding them gleam with crystal clear positivity. This is a jolly spot with terrific beer and good food that hits the magic balance of bon rapport qualité prix.

Clamato

80 rue de Charonne

75011 Paris

01 43 72 74 53

Salt Restaurant

6 rue Rochebrune

75011 Paris

01 73 71 56 98

Le Triangle

13 rue Jacques Louvel Tessier

75010 Paris

01 71 39 58 02

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All about Brie de Meaux and Brie de Melun cheese

A few weeks ago, driving from Epernay to Paris in the middle of a typhoon (well, that’s what it felt like anyway), I saw the signs for Meaux and made the impromptu decision to stop. I told myself it was for Road Safety — but as the town of Meaux is synonymous with cheese, I was gleeful to have the excuse to learn more about one of my favorites.

In the town center, I parked and popped into the local Office du Tourisme. I love these places — they’re almost always a friendly source of maps, tips, and other information. They directed me to the Fromagerie de Meaux Saint-Faron, a cheese producer on the outskirts of town.

I had visions of farmhouse cheesemaking, complete with checked cloths, wooden buckets, and straw mats, but let’s be honest — those days are long gone. The Fromagerie Saint-Faron is a medium-sized producer, adhering faithfully to French hygiene regulations, which means the ambiance is a little industrial and sterile. The self-guided tour features windows that peer onto the factory floor, and signs in French and English.

The factory produces Brie de Meaux and Brie de Melun, which are soft cheeses, made from raw cow’s milk, and originating from the general Seine-et-Marne area. They differ in subtle ways of production (which I’ll discuss below) but one of the most obvious is their particular home area. As dictated by the Appelation d’Origine Controlée, Brie de Meaux can be produced in a larger region than Brie de Melun.

At the fromagerie, the process starts when the milk arrives and is divided by region. The AOC requires Brie de Melun’s milk to be separated from the milk of the greater Brie de Melun territory. The milk is “ripened,” or fermented, for fifteen hours; both Meaux and Melun have their own specific cultures, “part of the cheese plant’s secret recipes,” said the sign.

The ripened milk is then heated and coagulated with animal rennet. And this is where the differences begin:

Brie de Meaux coagulates for 30 minutes. The curds are then cut into cubes and scooped (along with the whey) into molds with an instrument called a “pelle à brie,” or Brie shovel. A skillful scooper is essential to achieving a fine, uniform texture.

Brie de Melun coagulates for 18 hours. The curds and whey are stirred together until smooth and homogenous, and then scooped into molds.

The cheese remains in the molds for 20 hours, which allows the whey to drain from the curds. The drained curds are then salted and sprayed with Penicillium, which forms a white bloom on the surface of the cheese. The cheeses then proceed to the cave d’affinage (cheese cellar).

In the cave (where it was too dark for photos), Brie de Meaux ages in two stages. The first stage lasts a week and ensures that the white bloom develops evenly; the young cheeses are called “blanc de sel,” and are turned twice. The second stage lasts four to seven weeks. As the cheese ripens, it’s turned twice a week — until the end, when it becomes too delicate.

Brie de Melun is also ripened in two stages, albeit more slowly. The first stage lasts two weeks; the second ripening stage occurs over five to eight weeks.

The final step of the process is perhaps the most distinctive for the two Bries.

Brie de Meaux is sold at three stages of maturity. 1) Half matured (four to five weeks); 2) Three-quarters matured (six weeks); 3) Fully matured (eight weeks). As the cheese ages, the white rind develops faint red streaks, while the interior turns increasingly creamy, thanks to a process called proteolysis.

Brie de Melun is also sold at two stages. 1) Three-quarters matured (eight weeks); 2) Fully matured (nine to ten weeks). When fully ripe, it also develops red streaks on its rind, and the cheese has a stronger flavor.

In the factory shop, I picked up a wedge of each cheese, as well as a couple of triple-cream Bries. Back in Paris, four friends and I enjoyed a decadent evening of cheese, bread, and salad. After extensive tastings, we found the Brie de Melun stronger and saltier than that of Meaux, with a crust that stung a bit on the tongue: “Ca pique,” said my friend, Alexis. The Brie de Meaux was creamy and milder, while the triple crème were almost too creamy (if such a thing is possible :)

Fromagerie de Meaux Saint-Faron (no website)

Rue Jehan de Brie / Zone Industrielle Nord

77100 Meaux

tel: 01 64 36 69 44

Independent visits €4, with dégustation

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Thai green curry

On Friday, my friend, Lee, and I visited a Thai grocery store in New York’s Chinatown. It’s called Bangkok Center Grocery and I’ve been wanting to go there for ages, after reading this article.

The friendly woman behind the cash register advised us on the ingredients — the place has an entire WALL devoted to curry pastes; it’s mind-boggling — and I came home with green curry paste, lime leaves, Thai chiles, basil, and those adorable little golf-ball-sized eggplants.

I’d been putting off a trip to Chinatown because I never have enough time, but I have to admit that it’s such a treat to have Thai ingredients in my pantry again! This afternoon, I made one of my favorite recipes — Thai green curry with chicken and loads of vegetables, laced with coconut milk and enough chiles to perk up a Sunday evening. I found this dish via my friend, Jennifer, and it’s everything you want in a home-cooked meal — spicy, quick, nutritious, and so delicious you’ll be licking your bowl.

Find the recipe here!

Bangkok Center Grocery

104 Mosco Street

New York, NY 10013

212-732-8916

 

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