Ann Mah's Blog, page 31

Paris, Paris

I just can't resist photographing the Seine. Whenever I cross the river on one of those enchanting little footbridges, my camera comes out — it's like a Pavlovian response.

Dipping into the book Paris, Paris, I suspect that author David Downie might feel the same way about the Seine, Paris, and other hidden corners known only to le flaneur.

Except, instead of photographs, he's written short essays — vignettes on different quarters of this city.

Though I've only read a few scattered chapters, already I can tell that this is a book to dip into for a quick, satisfying hit of the City of Light: the elegant anachronisms, the hidden histories, the beauty.

Are you ever Paris-sick, mes amis? (That's like being homesick, but for Paris.) If so, I'm delighted to announce that I'm giving away four copies of this decadent little book.

If you're interested in receiving a copy, please leave a comment below. I'll choose the winners at random next Wednesday, April 13, 2011.

Good luck!

Breton bed, breakfast and bounty

I once read an article about hotel cleanliness, one of those exposés on all the bacteria (and worse) lurking in the pristine-seeming corners of guest rooms. Needless to say, I haven't had a good night's rest away from home ever since.

But on a recent trip to Brittany, I was surprised to find myself close to comfortable (trust me, this is the highest praise coming from me) at the most delightful bed and breakfast, Le Manoir de Lanroz in Quimper.

After all, how could I not be charmed when I walked into my room and saw this magnificent view of the Odet river? Add to this beautiful antique furnishings, spick-and-span cleanliness, and free wifi access, and I was even able to overcome my phobias enough to kick off my shoes and walk around barefoot.

The B&B's owners, Monsieur and Madame de Brommer, are exceedingly kind and proud of their home — which has been part of their family for decades, maybe centuries — and Breton roots. For my final breakfast, they bought me a special pastry — a Breton cake called far – because they knew I was curious about the local cuisine. It was like a sturdy flan, sweetly scented with vanilla, and studded with prunes. I liked it so much that Madame gave me a recipe for it.

In fact, I was truly touched to the core by the warm-hearted generosity that I found in Brittany. Almost every person I met gifted me with something, whether it was a half dozen eggs plucked straight from the nest, to a half a pound of salted butter, to a stack of homemade buckwheat crêpes. I managed to transport everything home safely, but I have to admit that without the sharp rush of Breton air, nothing tasted quite the same.

Do you collect recipes on your travels, mes amis? I'd love to hear!

Far Breton

3 eggs

100 grams sugar

150 grams flour

1/2 liter milk

1/2 cup pitted prunes, cut into a large dice

Butter a baking dish and scatter the prunes over the bottom. Mix the remaining ingredients well and add to the dish. Bake for 45 minutes at 180ºC.

Butter in Brittany

Wandering around Brittany this week, I made an important discovery. Butter is so ingrained in the culture of Finistère — a département in the extreme west of France — that the town of Quimper named a square after the stuff: Place au Buerre. Historically, this cobblestone square hosted the village market; today it's home to a handful of crêperies.

I ate at one of them, Au Vieux Quimper, for a lunch of crêpes and apple juice.

There was a savory buckwheat crêpe filled with a gut-busting combination of bacon, cheese, and mushrooms cooked in cream.

  

Dessert crêpes are made only with white flour, and are tender with crisp edges. Mine came filled with caramel au buerre salé — an invention created for tourists, I later learned. Still, I enjoyed every sticky, golden drop.

Au Vieux Quimper

20 rue Verdelet

Quimper, 29000

tel: 02 98 95 31 35

Printemps

 

For reasons incomprehensible even to me, I've found myself spending a lot of time recently at the Grands Magasins. Did you know that the roof deck of Printemps has a view of the whole of Paris?

Buy a cup of coffee or a cold drink in the cafeteria and take it outside to enjoy a truly expansive moment.

Paris K-Mart

Paris finally has a K-Mart, but if you're in search of Blue Light Specials, you're in the wrong spot. See, this is actually an Asian grocery store — I suspect the "K" stands for "Korean" — and it's packed with essential food staples like frozen edamame and dumplings, soba noodles, and tofu.

I stocked up on all of the above a few weeks ago and though it wasn't cheap — the crispy pork and cabbage dumplings set me back 5€, for example — the central rue Sainte-Anne location (near Japanese noodles shops and the Musée du Louvre) was certainly more convenient than trekking to the 13e or Belleville. Bonus: K-Mart is open on Sundays.

K-Mart also has a snack bar where you can pick up pre-made sushi, bibimbop, fried gyoza, and other treats; tables in the store offer a convenient spot to wolf it all down. For nearby office-workers, or Palais Royal picnickers, this is a convenient and different option for lunch.

K-Mart

6/8 rue Sainte-Anne, 1e

tel: 01 58 62 49 09

How to heal in Provence

Bonjour, mes amis! I'm so delighted to welcome Julianna Baggott – who also writes under the pen name Bridget Asher – to talk about her new novel, The Provence Cure for the Brokenhearted. Isn't the title evocative? The book is about a new widow, her young son, and a sullen teenage niece who find solace and new possibilities in a crumbling family home in Provence. I chatted with Julianna about food in fiction, Francophilia, and writing books that demands arduous research.

As a Francophile and expat, I'm especially looking forward to reading your book! What inspired you to create this story?

I wanted to write a novel about a house that had a certain hold over a family, one filled with lore. I wanted to have all of generations' love stories impact the present. "Grief is a love story told backwards," is the opening line and the final line in that first section is "Every good love story has another love hiding within it." Both of those seemed very true to me as a started to delve into these lives. I'm also a Francophile — so why not set something in the South of France? Why not write a book that demands delicious research? Why not drink wine with a great excuse?

I love Provence and have spent many happy summer vacations there. Did you spend much time in Provence researching this book? Where did you stay?

All the nuns in my school spoke French — their secret language. Every nun from this particular order spent a novitiate year in Paris. How to devote a life to God after a year in Paris? I suppose it's a divine test! One I would have failed. But I was motivated to learn the secret language. At thirteen, I went there on a trip with my parents and fell for Paris hard. I co-majored in French, did a study abroad year, fell in love with a Frenchman, fell out of love with a Frenchman — as it sometimes goes.

My husband and I decided to go back with the kids — our four (13, 11, 8 and 1 at the time) and an 11 year old niece. We rented a little house in the tiny village of Puyloubier. The actual house in the novel is an invention but it sits right next to a bed and breakfast where my parents stayed – la Bastide Richeaume. Many of the grounding events in the second half of the novel happened to us during our month in the south of France — including tending to an injured swallow, eating amazing food, and getting robbed.

I always love seeing France portrayed from an American perspective. Why do you think Americans have had such a long love affair with France (and vice versa)?

We don't allow ourselves, culturally, to be romantic. Maybe it's the cowboy in us. But the French not only allow it, they demand it. This is life — full and rich and devastating and beautiful and twisted. For some of us, that feels like a great relief.

How does food in fiction inspire you? 

I'm a terrible cook. I truly am. And day in and day out, I'm a rustic eater who looks for fuel. But when I eat — really eat — I have a French pallet. I like small exquisite portions. I believe — deeply and resolutely — in cheese and chocolate. And I believe that food is art and love and story and that it can restore not only the body but the heart and soul. When I miss my grandmother deeply, I miss being at her table — amid all of that love. Food is a story.

Reading the book's blurbs and early reviews, it sounds like food plays a big role in the story. What are your top five favorite things to eat in Provence?

I write about a few excellent meals that I had while there and they're pivotal to the emotional growth of the character. So I'm going to point you to the book where there are more than five recipes. An entire Provencal meal from a French chef; a Provencal chicken in cream sauce recipe that's been handed down for generations; and since the main character, Heidi, is a pastry chef, we also include recipes from a pastry chef who lives in my town. Bon appétit!

French hopscotch

Did you play hopscotch as a kid, mes amis? Out for a walk, I spotted this hand-chalked grid marked ciel and terre, or heaven and earth. Can any Français out there enlighten me on how this game is played? I'd love to know!

Flower therapy

Aren't these flowers pretty? My friend, Janet Skeslien Charles, gave them to me because she knows I love tulips. Sadly, after only a day, a couple of the stalks started to droop.

Luckily, I know a flower trick that I learned from my dad. Fill a basin (or the sink) with cold water and submerge your stems. Allow them to bathe and rehydrate for a half hour or so.

Et, voila! The tulips emerged from their tub revived and they lasted for another week.

Do you have any tips to make cut flowers last longer, mes amis?

Book news

Bom dia, amigos! No, I haven't started studying Portuguese (I wish!), but I am excited to share the newest edition of Kitchen Chinese, Una Americana em Pequim, which was just published in Portugal by ASA Editores. I received copies last week and they are truly gorgeous with beautiful spot-gloss, French flaps and other bells and whistles that make books special. I'm so proud to have them on my bookshelf!

In unrelated book news… Are any of you in a book club, mes amis? If so, I'm delighted to share this list of book club suggestions with you. The titles here are funny and wise, diverse and provocative — and they all have authors who love to Skype and do phone chats with book clubs.

This wonderful list was compiled by the Fiction Writer's Co-op, a dynamic group of novelists founded by the author, Cathy Marie Buchanan, to support and promote each other's books. I'm proud to be a member of this group and to help spread the word about the work of my fellow fiction writers!

My very own carciofi

I don't think it's a secret that I like love am hopelessly addicted to the artichoke pizza at Pizza Chic, with its crisp/chewy crust spread with artichoke purée and topped with arugula salad and shaved parmesan. Alas, at 19€ a pie, it's a little too, well, chic.

But then I started thinking: Arugula, parmesan, artichoke spread? Just how hard could this be to make at home? A bit of quick work with the food processor, et voila, my very own carciofi tartine was born.

I'm missing the crust, of course, but a toasted baguette ain't a bad substitution. Add a drizzle of deep and fruity olive oil and you too can call yourself chic.

Artichoke spread

1 can artichoke hearts

1/3 cup grated Parmagiano Reggiano

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil (more if necessary)

Pepper

Rinse and drain the artichoke hearts and squeeze them dry. Chop roughly and place them in the bowl of a food processor with the grated cheese, olive oil and a grind or two of black pepper. Whizz into a spread, adding more oil if necessary.

For the real version:

Pizza Chic

13 rue de Mézières, 6e

tel: 01 45 48 30 38

P.S. I can't wait to try Pizza Chic's new baby sister branch, which is opening this week!

Grazie

91 bd Beaumarchais, 3e

tel: 01 42 78 11 96