Ann Mah's Blog, page 27

Culinary quartier: Maubert-Mutualité

Maybe I'm just lazy, but I like one-stop shopping: a single trip on the métro, rewarded by a multitude of destinations. Especially when all the destinations are related to food. Today, I'm excited to share some of my favorite shops in the neighborhood at métro Maubert-Mutualité.

There is the excellent fromagerie, Laurent Dubois, a meilleur ouvrier de France, whose cheeses are impeccable.

I really love stopping here, chatting with the vendeurs, and spending my hard-earned centimes on a morsel of perfect cheese. Last time, I got a mini Epoisses that was beautifully ripened and the ideal size.

If you're in more of an Eastern mood, there is the Asian épicerie, Sou-Quan, which carries all manner of Asian sauces, fresh vegetables, tofu, canned goods, frozen pot stickers, dumpling wrappers and more. It's extremely convenient if you want to whip up a stir-fry but don't feel like schlepping all the way to the 13th to go grocery shopping.

There is the Chinese noodle house, Les Pâtes Vivantes, which may or may not be going downhill (I haven't been there for a long time), but will always be a viable cheap and cheerful eat.

And last but not least, just across the river, there is the glacier Berthillon, a veritable ice cream palace. The deep sugar nuttiness of their caramel au beurre salé ice cream can make a grown woman weep tears of joy.

I'm sure I missed lots of good addresses, mes amis! I'd love know — what are your favorites in the neighborhood?

(Photo of Berthillon from keetr.)

Fromagerie Dubois

47 bd Saint-Germain, 5e

tel: 01 43 54 50 93

Sou-Quan

35 Place Maubert, 5e

tel: 01 43 26 80 39

Les Pâtes Vivantes

22 bd Saint-Germain, 5e

tel: 01 40 46 84 33

Berthillon

29-31 rue Saint-Louis-en-île, 4e

tel: 01 43 54 31 61

Septime

'Twas a lovely lunch I had last week at Septime, lovely because of the light-diffused, farmhouse-industrial dining room, the thoughtfully prepared food, and the conversation with Amy.

An entrée of boeuf cru, smoked potatoes and tarragon cleverly balanced creamy and crunchy with a layer of toasted breadcrumbs sprinkled between the ground beef and mashed potatoes.

The merlu main course shared the same attention to texture, with raw slivers of cauliflower offering a toothsome counterpoint to the fish and purée. Dabs of anchovy paste added a bold and salty — at times overpowering — punch.

To finish, we had a dessert of cassis and basil sorbet, an unexpected but joyous marriage, bright and cleansing, faintly licorice-y. Alas, the accompanying chocolate ganache felt like an afterthought; served too cold, it tasted slightly congealed and pale next to the sorbet's sunny enthusiasm.

I enjoyed Septime tremendously. And yet…

After reading so many laudatory reviews, my expectations were at a fever pitch. In the end, I didn't find Septime as revelatory as I expected. Don't get me wrong — my meal was lovely, and the lunch menu — 26 Euros for three courses — has a rapport qualité prix that I would, without hesitation, describe as fantastic. The chef, Bertrand Grébaut, has a fine pedigree and a witty sensibility. But, in the end, this is simple, seasonal food, beautifully cooked — nothing more or less. The internet has made this restaurant the Next Big Thing, but I wonder if the lily will wilt under those extra flourishes of gilt.

The internets giveth and the internets taketh away. Blessed be the name of the internets?

Septime

80 rue de Charonne, 11e

tel: 01 43 67 38 29

Carrot cake cupcakes

I spent yesterday morning baking carrot cake cupcakes for my husband's birthday. I used this recipe (good, maybe a little too sweet) but invented my own cream cheese frosting… an eyeballed mix of cream cheese, butter, powdered sugar, lemon zest and juice and the tiniest smidge of salt to enhance the cream cheese.

Does your frosting ever seem too runny? I let mine chill in the fridge for an hour, which helped it set up and allowed me to pile it on in a big, sweet, fluffy cloud.

What's your favorite birthday treat?

Strudel show

When I went to Vienna last November, I loved eating apple strudel at the old-fashioned tearoom, Demel. At the time, I had no idea of the skill and labor involved in creating the sweet pastry.

The word strudel, which means "whirlpool" or "eddy" in German, refers to the swirl of thin dough wrapped around a soft filling. The pastry is stretched and rolled by hand into a sheet so thin you can read a newspaper through its surface (according to The Penguin Companion to Food).

This video from Vienna's Café Residenz in the Schonbrunn Palace shows the delicate process from start to finish. Isn't the pâtissier's quick confidence amazing?

Currypalooza!

Currypalooza: 1) A monthly celebration of Indian home cooking. 2) A virtual gathering of group of food bloggers, who prepare the same subcontinental recipe and blog about it.

I'm tickled pink to be part of this month's Currypalooza, even if my post is a week late. Croque Camille selected the recipe which comes from Mallika Basu's Miss Masala, one of my favorite cookbook's ever. (I am not exaggerating. This book has changed my life.) (!!!!)

This month's dish is called patra ni macchi, or marinated cod steamed in banana-leaf parcels. It's a lovely and simple: a piece of fish rubbed with a spicy coconut herb paste, wrapped in a banana leaf, and steamed. And don't worry if you've totally spaced out and you forget to add the coconut to the herb paste. It's easy enough to scrape it all off and rectify your error. Guess how I know?

See? It's much better with the coconut, which cuts the sharp bite from the finger chilies. And if your spaciness continues and you realize at the very last minute that you lack a key piece of equipment — that is, a steamer — well, you can always use – Mallika, if you're reading this, avert your eyes – the microwave. Three minutes at 650 Watts worked quite beautifully.

Normally, I would now share a photo of the finished product, but something happened. Do you care to guess?

A) The lighting in my kitchen sucks.

B) Chopped herbs turn khaki green, akin to baby poo, when cooked.

C) I was so overwhelmed by the fish – sweet, tart, spicy, salty and coconuty, with a delightful herbal punch — that I forgot.

D) All of the above.

Instead, I leave you with the cover of Mallika's book, Miss Masala. You could test out some of Mallika's recipes from her top-notch blog. Or, you could try making your own banana-leaf parcels of cod — the recipe is posted over at Croque Camille. But I really suggest — in fact, I urge you — to go buy this book right now. I'm not just saying this because Mallika is a friend (though she is), or because authors need to stick together (though we do). I'm saying this because I love this book so much, I feel compelled to share it. And, really, isn't that what blogging is all about?

Read this month's other Currypalooza posts:

Croque Camille

More Please by Margie

Sage Trifle

Cheese fondue canicule

Salut, mes amis! I'm excited today to share part two of our vacation photos: Annecy and the French Alps. Don't those names conjure up cool air and fresh mountain breezes?

Alas, we arrived in the midst of a canicule — that is, a heat wave — which draped the town in a swathe of stickiness. But not even 90 degree weather could detract from the charms of Annecy, a jewel-like city surrounded by astonishing natural beauty: glorious mountains and a pure Alpine lake.

It was the kind of sensational, heart-stopping, thrilling landscape that transports you away from everyday worries and makes you forget that anything else exists. I couldn't stop squealing and taking photographs.

Of course, the real reason for my trip was to research cheese and fondue. I'm saving tales of alpine cheese-making chalets and twisty mountain roads for my new book. But I did want to share this photo from the exceptional Fromagerie Gay in Annecy. The owner, Pierre Gay — a newly crowned Meilleur Ouvrier de France — showed me these wheels of mimolette cheese and told me about cirons, tiny cheese-eating mites, scarcely visible to the naked eye, which are used in the affinage process. They pierce and shape the crust, allowing the cheese to breathe and obtain its special flavor and aroma. I found the riddled cheese rinds (photo above) both fascinating and repulsive.

In the name of research, I tucked into a big pot of bubbling cheese fondue on an 85º-evening. Mmm! There's nothing as cool and refreshing as hot, melted cheese!

Just kidding. But the fondue was still very delicious despite the weather. And we were able to cool our heels in Lac d'Annecy, perching on a rock, and dipping our toes into the clear, blue water. My butt got wet, but it was worth it.

We actually chilled out — literally — in our bright and modern and spotlessly clean chambre d'hote, the Clos du Lac, which featured gorgeous views of the Lac d'Annecy, stylish rooms and air conditioning. (You can take a girl out of the States, but…)

Le Clos du Lac is located in a town called Veyrier du Lac, ten minutes from Annecy by car (also accessible by ferry boat). Some people like being in the heart of the historic center, but I actually preferred being outside of town in a charming, hilly, lakeside village.

Especially given the lake view (!) from the balcony (!) of our room! On our last evening, Chris and I drank glasses of local wine, a crisp and refreshing white called Apremont, ate Beaufort cheese, and watched the sun set. It was a fitting end to a splendid vacation/research trip.

Fromagerie Gay

47 rue Carnot

74000 Annecy

tel:  04 50 45 07 29

Le Clos du Lac

50 route de la Corniche

Veyrier du Lac 74290

tel: 06 20 60 04 58

Food and passion (and a giveaway)

Are you as fascinated as I am by the heat, drama and pressure of a professional kitchen? Today I'm delighted to welcome Meredith Mileti, author of the debut novel, Aftertaste. The book tells the story of Mira: wife, mother and passionate chef/owner of a chic New York City trattoria. When Mira's fiery nature lands her in a tangle of legal and personal predicaments, she falls back on family and friends in Pittsburgh as she battles to save her restaurant. But will she be able to find the right ingredients to create a recipe for happiness? I chatted with Meredith about food and emotions, and the differences between cooking and writing.

As a lover of food and food writing, I enjoyed your book so much! What inspired you to write the story?

I've long been interested in how food, and by extension, cooking, represents emotion. What an intense and complicated relationship it is! Writing about a chef seemed an interesting way to explore this relationship further. The idea for the story came to me several years ago when I was writing my doctoral dissertation in Developmental Psychology. It was a heavy statistical analysis and I was totally consumed by it. I'd accepted an academic position that was dependent upon my finishing it, so I had a major, looming deadline. We had three young kids at home at the time and my husband, champ that he is, told me I could have the summer off from cooking—he would handle feeding the family so I could finish. I was grouchy and miserable and not just because I was subsisting on a diet of take-out food and hamburger helper. I was missing the only creative outlet I had at the time—cooking. Mira interrupted me one day and wouldn't leave me alone, so I wrote the first chapter of her story. Then I stuck it in a drawer and it sat there for a couple of years while I was busy doing other things, but I never stopped thinking about her. Eventually, I picked it back up and Aftertaste is the result!

You really capture the intense pace and long hours of working as a professional chef in a restaurant. How did you research the book?

I am not a professionally trained chef—just an incredibly enthusiastic home cook and all-around good eater. By interviewing several professional chefs and reading several non-fiction books—including Heat by Bill Buford and Michael Rhulman's wonderful series of books The Making of a Chef, The Soul of a Chef, etc.)— I gained some understanding about what kind of person is driven to become a chef, and what kinds of demands—physical, as well as emotional and intellectual–the work entails. And the demands are many.

I took a cooking class with my father in Florence. The teacher, Sharon Oddson, was very helpful in teaching me about what in particular in takes to be a successful woman chef. I also visited some restaurant kitchens and had the good fortune to have some friends who have business experience with restaurants read and comment on the book. And I cooked—even more than usual. In fact, I found that cooking helped get me in the mood to write. It became a very reflective and creative process. My husband jokes that he gained twenty pounds during the writing of this book!

Anger plays a large role in the life of your main character, Mira; passion, too. Do you think emotions can be expressed via food?

Absolutely! Most of us have a complicated and emotional relationship with food. We often act out our internal struggles with food. We celebrate with food; we often eat (or sometimes don't eat) when we are angry or sad. We use food to soothe or punish ourselves. Similarly, the cook has the power to nurture, or placate, or punish. Cooking is also a way to for me share something of myself with others. I learned this from my dad, to whom I've dedicated Aftertaste. He's a fairly reticent man, but his cooking speaks volumes about love.

I loved reading the descriptions of "cucina poverta," or Italian peasant cuisine. Why did you choose this cuisine for Mira's specialty?

It is a cuisine I thoroughly enjoy and am intimately familiar with, but it also seemed a fitting metaphor for telling Mira's story. One of the hallmarks of cucina poverta is the notion that you make something delicious out of what you have. Take bread for example. Two of Italy's greatest soups, ribollita and pappa al pomodoro make spectacular use of stale bread. Nothing is wasted in peasant cooking. That is really what Mira has to deal with—not just salvaging what has turned stale or is left over, but turning it into something wonderful.

How does cooking differ from writing?

For me, both cooking and writing are creative processes. Both are big jobs with lots of moving parts and in order to keep things flowing in the kitchen and on the page you have to be organized. That said, I think there can also be a lot of spontaneity in both writing and cooking. Give it a taste and see what it needs. Throw in something unexpected.

Honest, hearty and as deeply satisfying as Italian peasant fare, Aftertaste is about the important things in life: food, family, and love. Curious? Thanks to Meredith's publisher, Kensington, I'm giving away two signed copies! To win a book, leave a comment by Thursday, September 8, 2011, answering these two questions…

1) Can you find shell beans like the ones pictured above? 2) Where do you live? (I'm trying to write a recipe and need your help!)

Provence and the Basses-Alpes

  

Bonjour, mes amis! We got back from our vacation a few days ago and I'm still glowing from the Provence sun and scratching my mosquito bites. It was a bright and busy two weeks, filled with lovely friends, delicious food (including homemade melon ice cream — yum!), and a couple of road trips in our rented Smart car. I'm so excited to share these photos from the first part of our summer holiday in Provence and the Basses-Alpes.

In Provence, we stayed again in Bonnieux, an adorable village in the Luberon, and revisited all our favorite spots.

I sank my teeth in a fluffy mushroom omelette and herb-flecked frites at one of my favorite restaurants, Etape du Promeneur in Buoux.

 

One morning, I rose before the sun to help prepare soupe au pistou for 200 people. I'm saving the full report on my cooking adventures for my new book, but I will say that peeling and chopping over 50 kg of vegetables at the crack of dawn with a group of formidable Provençale women was an unforgettable, wonderful, and only marginally terrifying, experience.

We bought rosé at Château de Canorgue, and drank it chilled with olive tapenade.

Leaving the Luberon, we drove northeast to the Basses-Alpes, or the Alpes de Haute Provence.

It's a mountainous region that's ruggedly beautiful, sparsely populated and almost half wild.

I loved the herbs that grow here in rocky crevices, including thyme, sarriette (used by shepherds to perfume goat cheese), and, most precious of all, génépi, or mountain wormwood, which is used to make a liqueur similar to absinthe.

We left Provence and her Alps clutching crumbling bouquets of lavender, thyme, sarriette, génépi – and a recipe for the liqueur, which I'm delighted to share with you below.

It was a beautiful, sunny  trip — sauvage in the best sense of the word. Thank you for letting me share my vacation photos with you, mes amis. What have you been up to this month? Summer holidays? Preparing for Irene? I'd love to hear — and I hope you're all safe and warm as a buttermilk biscuit.

P.S. Coming soon: Part two of my vacation photos — Annecy, the French Alps, and cheese fondue in a heat wave!

P.P.S. My génépi is brewing!

Génépi

20 sprigs (approx) génépi

1 liter grain alcohol, 90º proof

Simple sugar syrup (made by heating 35-40 sugar cubes with 1 liter of water)

Soak the branches of génépi in the alcohol for at least 40 days. Filter the herbs from the alcohol and mix with the sugar syrup.

Summer holidays

It has been my favorite kind of summer this year in Paris — cool and grey and drizzly with flashes of warmth and bright sun. Even though I love it (I know, I'm weird) I'm ready for a blast of dry heat, lazy afternoons by the pool, and the juice of a nectarine trickling down my chin.

For the next couple of weeks, I'll be away in Provence and Haute-Savoie. I'm so excited to explore and do a bit of research for my new book (that's code for eating). This blog will be on hiatus, but I'll be back at the end of August to tell you all about my adventures and to hear all about yours. I can't wait!

Happy vacation!

Tiny houses

 

Reading the New Yorker last week, I became fascinated by the idea of tiny houses. Have you heard of this phenomenon, mes amis? Only about 120 square feet, these small structures look like playhouses — but they're actually full-functioning dwellings complete with running water, bathrooms and kitchens.

Tiny houses are built on trailer platforms, so they're completely mobile. But because their small size usually violates building codes, it's often illegal to live in one. This doesn't seem to detract "clausterphiles," as one tiny house aficionado described himself in the article. In recent years, perhaps because of the economic downtown, tiny houses have become extremely popular — spawning fascinating websites like the Tiny House Blog or the Tumbleweed Tiny House Company. (The two photos above picture a Tumbleweed tiny house.)

As much as I love airy rooms and gigantic kitchens, I have to admit there's something appealing about the idea of a tiny, cozy, portable house. What do you think, mes amis? Would you live in one?

The fascinating New Yorker article is available here for subscribers (with an abstract for non-subscribers, who could also check out the issue at the library.)

(Top photos from lisajerrilyn, bottom photo from the lulubird.)