Joyeuses Fêtes!
By Ann | December 23, 2011
Chers amis, happy holidays!
And greetings from Southern California where I’ve hopped to spend a white (if by white, you mean the color of my skin) Christmas with my family.
May 2012 bring you much happiness, good health, absorbing books and delicious meals shared with all the people you love. And, as always, thank you for reading my blog — I love sharing my adventures with you. I’ll see you again soon, in the new year!
Gros bisous,
Ann
P.S. Don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter for more photos, recipes and food stories! Subscribe here by December 31 and enter to win a special giveaway!
Topics: Uncategorized | 8 Comments »
Artichokes of Rome
By Ann | December 19, 2011
Wandering around Rome recently, I noticed a few things:
1) Winter in Rome makes Paris seem like a gulag. The sun shines bright and strong (except when it rains), and the temperatures are mild enough for year-round gelato consumption.
2) Romans seem to have infinite reserves of patience for children and non-Italian-speaking tourists (i.e. me).
3) It’s artichoke season.
I ate them on pizza…
I ate them alla giudia, that is, twice-fried in olive oil…
And I ate them in pasta with guanciale, a type of salt-cured bacon made from pork cheeks.
In Paris, we have to wait until spring to see these spiky globes in the market. In Rome, they’re already ready for the eating (and eating, and eating).
Pizzarium (pizza)
Via della Meloria, 43
tel: 39 06 3974 5416
Piperno (alla giudia)
Monte di Cenci, 9
tel: 39 06 6880 6629
Flavio al Velavevodetto (pasta)
Via di Monte Testaccio, 97
tel: 39 06 574 4194
P.S. I’ll share more Rome photos and addresses in my new newsletter. Click here to subscribe!
Topics: A year in a French market: Winter, Voyages | 4 Comments »
Rome, actually
By Ann | December 14, 2011
I’ll never forget my first visit to Rome, during a sultry summer weekend almost seven years ago. I’m not sure what disappointed me most: the masses of tourists crowding the monuments, or the horrible food I ate at almost every turn. I hadn’t done my homework , you see, hadn’t researched any good addresses. And I paid the price with soggy pizza and carbonara studded with chunks of scrambled egg.
Over the years, I made a few other trips to the Eternal City — non-eating trips, if you can believe it — which left me pining for Rome’s storied cuisine. Well, I’m pleased to report that during my visit last week, I finally ended my bad luck dining streak. Fourth time’s the charm? Actually, it turns out Elizabeth Minchilli’s fantastic Eat Rome app, stuffed full of all the tips and addresses that a food lover could ever want, was the charm.
My publisher, 66thand2nd, invited me to Rome to promote the Italian edition of Kitchen Chinese. In between book presentations with a series of articulate and beautiful food writers (all of whom had me quaking in my ballet flats) my editor promised me food. Lots and lots of food.
There were deep fried snacks at Remo, reputedly Rome’s finest pizzeria: suppli, which are balls of risotto stuffed with a stretchy cord of melted mozzarella, anchovy-stuffed courgette blossoms, and bruschetta. The pizza was whisper thin with a lightly charred crust, and everyone around me — Italians, all of them — ate it with their hands. I could feel the entire republic of France reeling in horror as I did the same.
Then there was the stuff I ate (or drank) on the run, like this perfectly chewy-crunchy pizza bianca from the Forno at Campo de’ Fiori, still warm from the oven.
Or gelato from Fata Morgana, which offered unusual flavors like cinnamon stick and apple, and banana and black sesame (both a touch too sweet).
Coffee from Sant’ Eustachio — even their decaf is delicious, pure, with a creamy froth (of coffee) and not even a hint of acidity. How do they do it?
Even more pizza, this time from Pizzarium, whose exotic combinations of toppings made me regret being a single eater.
And wine — a light, fruity Tyrolean red — at Il Vinaietto, a plain-Jane, neighborhood enoteca.
Then there was the meal I ate at Piperno, simple and perfect with its fried artichokes, salad of bitter puntarelle and anchovies, and soupy pasta e ceci (photo above) that featured velvety chick peas against the toothy bite of thin, homemade noodles. It was drizzled with olive oil so fragrantly sharp and delicious that I wanted to bathe in it.
Perilli’s renowned carbonara (photo left) achieved textbook textures: al dente rigatoni and crisped, browned guanciale like I’ve never seen before. Alas, an overzealous hand with the salt made the dish almost inedible. The vaccinara, oxtail cooked in tomato sauce (photo right), was superb, however, with a rich, haunting meatiness achieved by slow braising.
My favorite meal of the trip has the worst photographs — isn’t that always the case? It doesn’t look like much, but sharp, peppery, pecorino bite of this cacio e pepe, which I ate at the almost unpronounceable (to me) Flavio al Velavevodetto, will stick with me for a very, very long time.
At least, that is, until my next trip to Rome. Because now that I’ve cracked the city’s dining scene, I’m planning another visit very soon, fork in hand.
P.S. I’m sharing more Rome photos and addresses in my new newsletter! Have you subscribed yet? Sign up here and you’ll be eligible for a special giveaway!
Topics: Dining Out and About, Voyages | 9 Comments »
Carte postale: Rome
By Ann | December 12, 2011
Lunch at a nondescript tavola calda. Nothing fancy, and yet unforgettable.
P.S. I’m still digging out from my trip, but I’ll be back with a longer post soon!
Topics: Voyages | 6 Comments »
Cheese in St-Etienne and environs
By Ann | December 5, 2011
I’ve been traveling so much this fall, I can scarcely download the photos from my camera before I’m packing my bags once again. As a result, these pictures from St-Etienne — about 40 miles southwest of Lyon, in the Rhône-Alpes region — are a few weeks old and the gentle sunshine that diffuses them seems like a pleasant but distant memory. My memories of that weekend, however, are strong and sharp – a wonderful few days filled with delightful friends, flea markets, and lots of fromage. Here are four special cheese experiences:
We stayed at the home of friendly fromage fans who ended every meal with a cheese board — isn’t it gorgeous? Notable cheeses include the tall wedge (at one o’clock), a local blue cheese called the Fourme de Montbrison that’s cut in slices across the top. Also, Munster (eight o’clock), which I brought from Alsace. It was so stinky it got its own knife.
At the neighborhood market, our friends introduced me to this country cheese. It’s a rough-and-ready specimin dusted with cirons,or artisons, minute mites that age the crust, leaving the center creamy. Back in our hosts’ kitchen, we brushed them off the cheese and into a glass bowl, peering at the moving crumbs via a magnifying glass. It was totally absorbing and a little creepy, too.
One day, we lunched at a former farmhouse, now a rustic restaurant. I tucked into this gloriously cheesy tartiflette, a casserole of sliced potatoes larded with ham, cream, and reblochon cheese, baked until golden and melty. You can’t see it, but underneath the gratin dish was a heated stone tile that cleverly kept the dish hot until I’d eaten my fill.
After a beautiful walk through landscape fringed with heather and juniper bushes, we stopped at a goat farm. A goat farm! Because when you live in the French countryside, that’s the type of thing you find on the way home!
I loved learning about the cheese-making process, even if I do find goats’ eyes a little satanic. Inside the atelier, there were chèvres in all ages and stages, from the very fresh (my favorite), to further along in the affinage process.
When we finally left, the sky was dark and we were loaded down like little pack ponies. And, as it turns out, goat cheese was the perfect thing to bring back to Paris, a fragrant souvenir of a beautiful, fromage-filled weekend.
La Ferme du Champ
42660 St-Régis du Coin
tel: 04 77 51 87 32
P.S. Have you signed up for my newsletter yet? Subscribe here and you’ll be eligible for a special giveaway!
Topics: A year in a French market: Autumn, Voyages | 9 Comments »
New newsletter (and giveaway)!
By Ann | December 1, 2011
Bonjour, mes amis!
I’m starting a new project that I’d love to share with you: My new newsletter! I’m preparing my first edition now, which I plan to send next month (and every quarter (or so) thereafter). It’ll feature more food porn photos, special recipes, stories from my travels, and news about my books, articles and appearances. I’ve done a lot of traveling this fall — Burgundy, Alsace, Aveyron, and Rome (next week!) — and I’m so excited to fill you in on my adventures.
You can sign up to receive my newsletter by clicking here. And in case you need a little extra incentive, I’m hosting a giveaway! If you subscribe by December 31, I’ll enter you into a drawing to win a selection of adorable Cartes d’Art notebooks (perfect cahiers for keeping track of French vocab, or your favorite bottles of wine) and Muji pens (sparkly!), packaged together in an organic cotton tote from La Grande Epicerie. Three winners will be chosen at random. (If you’ve already signed up for the newsletter, don’t worry — you’re already entered in the drawing.)
Merci mille fois, as always, for your support, mes amis. I’m looking forward to communicating with you in a whole new way!
xoxo
P.S. Please know that I’ll never share your email address with anyone, even if they threaten to banish me from fromageries around the world.
Topics: Uncategorized | 8 Comments »
Wine with personality
By Ann | November 29, 2011
One of the best parts of living in France has been getting to know winemakers like Jean-Marc Espinasse, and the delicious wine he produces at Domaine Rouge Bleu in the Rhone Valley.
Jean-Marc and I became friends through his wife, Kristin, who pens the lovely blog, French Word-a-Day. Before I ever lived in France, I used to sit in my grimy Beijing office, reading Kristin’s tales of family, friends, and Golden Retrievers in sunny Provence and dream of life there.
Last year, I was honored to share an event with Jean-Marc at Shakespeare & Co (I read from my book, he offered a dégustation). It was a lovely evening — what could be better than wine and friends amid the book-lined walls of a literary landmark?
Well, in case you missed last November’s tasting, Jean-Marc is back in Paris — where he will be offering two dégustations this week! In honor of his events, I’m thrilled he took the time to answer a few questions.
What will you be pouring at your upcoming events in Paris?
A wine named Dentelle, which means “lace” in English. The name refers to both the Dentelles de Montmirail, a famous hill where the grapes were grown, as well as the wine’s lacy style. We will also be pouring a wine named Mistral, which refers to our famous strong wind and also to the wine’s very powerful style.
You’re a relatively new vigneron, having recently completed your fifth harvest. What inspired you to start making wine?
Working as a broker with other small, organic winemakers with a strong identity. Their devotion to making natural wine with high personality inspired me to do the same.
How does your wine reflect your personality?
I have made a wine called “Lunatique” which really can reflect my personality but this is a very small amount of our production. But, generally speaking, I think my wines are a bit moody, sometimes they show wonderful and sometimes they need a bit of time to express themselves. But I know they have been made with love so I know they are good.
Your wine is sold around the world, including the US, Australia, and Japan. Do different countries prefer different cépages?
I don’t think so. We are making natural wines (which means organic in the field and no additives in the cellars) with a strong identity and this is what our distributors look for.
What’s your favorite wine and food pairing?
I remember (almost 20 years ago) cooking spaghetti with a Roquefort sauce and pouring a Chateauneuf du Pape with it. Well, this is still quite good. Now, my favorite pairing is pigeon with a Pommard. As people say, the more you evolve with wine, the more you go to Burgundy and this is also true for me.
Are you in Paris this week? Come meet Jean-Marc and taste his delicious, gold medal-winning wines (the 2009 Mistral was recently awarded two stars by the 2o12 Guide Hachette des Vins). And if you see me there swilling back a glass, please come and say hello!
Thursday, Dec 1, 17h00-20h00
La Carte des Vines
26 bd Beaumarchais, 11e
Friday, Dec 2, 17h00-19h30
La Dernière Goutte
6 rue Bourbon le Château, 6e
Topics: Oenophilia, Paris, Q&A | 5 Comments »
Joyeux Thanksgiving!
By Ann | November 24, 2011
Whether you’re pilgrim or Indian, pumpkin pie or pecan, dark meat or white, football fan or kitchen junkie, marshmallow sweet potatoes or plain, happy Thanksgiving! I’m off to Aveyron for a bit of book research but I’ll be back next week with tales of amazing, elastic aligot.
In the meantime, as you begin to prepare your free-range, organic, herb-rubbed, kosher bird for the oven, I leave you with two quotes from the 18th-century French food lover and philosopher Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin:
“The fate of nations depends on the way they eat.”
and
“A man can become a cook, but he has to be born a rôtisseur.”
Happy turkey day, tout le monde!
Topics: A year in a French market: Autumn, Uncategorized | 3 Comments »
Comfort me with pumpkin
By Ann | November 21, 2011
My husband’s grandmother loved Canadian rye whiskey, which she kept in recycled airline cocktail bottles in her purse. She believed in the four “L”s: living, loving, learning, laughter, all pronounced in a Queens accent so thick you could spread it on a bagel. Her chicken soup remains legendary. “Wouldja like a plate a soup?” she’d ask (or so I’m told). Nanny died last week at the age of 91.
I met Nanny less than 10 years ago, so I never really knew her in her prime, when she was a beautiful, young grandmother lavishing attention on her grandkids. I kind of feel like I knew her back then, however, if only from my husband’s stories of Pacific Northwest vacations in a camper, or the summer they all went to Montreux, Switzerland for the jazz festival — trips that went a long way towards establishing his wanderlust and probably led to our itinerant lifestyle today.
Recently, I’ve stared a lot at the photos of my husband as a toddler, which he brought back from his grandparents’ house a few weeks ago, picturing the loving arms that hugged him. One of the (many) scary things about death is that the people who knew you as a baby, who remember those years better than you, disappear, taking a part of your childhood with them.
After we heard the news, my husband went out and bought a bottle of Canadian Club in Nanny’s honor. That night, he sipped a couple of fingers on the rocks while I drank leftover Champagne and made baked pasta, kind of like macaroni and cheese, but with the addition of pumpkin, chard, sage, and mushrooms. Part of being in a relationship means your partner’s sadness becomes your own. This dish celebrated autumn, but it was also comfort food, cozy and warm.
Fall Harvest baked pasta
I first read about this pasta on Bear with a Wooden Spoon, which was inspired by this recipe by Scandilicious. But I made so many changes and modifications, based on what I had in the fridge and my own hypochondriac impulses, that I’ve created my own.
Serves 4 (hungry) people
Half a small pumpkin
Olive oil
3 tablespoons canola oil
3 tablespoons flour
1 pint milk
3/4 cup buttermilk
Pinch of nutmeg
Pinch of cayenne pepper
1 small basket of mushrooms, sliced
1 small Swiss chard
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper
2-3 fresh sage leaves, finely chopped
1/2 lb whole wheat penne
1/2 cup cheddar cheese, grated
5-6 sage leaves
Preheat the oven to 200ºC/400ºF). Wash, seed, peel and cut the pumpkin into 1-inch chunks. Drizzle with olive oil, salt and pepper and roast for about 20 minutes.
Prepare a roux by adding the flour to the hot canola oil in a saucepan, stirring constantly until it smells warm and toasty, and turns faintly brown. Add the milk and whisk over low heat until the mixture thickens. Off heat, add the buttermilk, nutmeg, cayenne pepper, salt and pepper. Taste and adjust seasonings.
Bring a large pot of water to boil for the pasta. Meanwhile, in a sauté pan, brown the mushroom slices in a little oil, and then stir in the garlic, crushed red chili and minced sage leaves. Wash the chard and remove the green leaves (save the stems for another recipe) and chop finely. Add the chard to the mushrooms, season, cover and allow to cook for 10 minutes or until softened. Meanwhile, cook the pasta for 5 minutes.
When the chard has softened, combine it with the béchemel, pumpkin chunks and cooked penne, stirring thoroughly and adding dashes of pasta cooking water to keep the mixture loose. Taste and adjust seasoning. Pour the mixture into a lightly greased baking dish and scatter with the grated cheese and sage leaves. Bake for 10 minutes, or until bubbling. Raise the oven to broil and lightly brown the top until golden (about 3 minutes).
Topics: A year in a French market: Autumn, Recettes | 7 Comments »
Itacate
By Ann | November 18, 2011
A few weeks ago, I was eating at one of the taco stands that have sprung up recently in Paris. We were feeling rather lucky having achieved the impossible — finding a spot for three for dinner — but it turned out that my real luck was being seated next to a chatty gentleman from Mexico.
As we discussed important topics such as the best tequila to use in a margarita, and roving Beijing taco trucks (I ate regularly at the one owned by his friend), my neighbor told me about another taqueria — his favorite — in the 1e. Needless to say, I ran over there at the first opportunity.
With its plastic tables and chairs, Itacate is reminiscent of a joint in an Orange County strip mall. But the food has true south-of-the-border-spirit, even if the salsa has been toned down for timid French tongues.
Not everything was a winner. But the tacos that were good were like Olympic medalists. The pork carnitas featured luscious roasted meat — teetering just on the modest edge of lean — rolled with a sprinkle of cilantro and squeeze of lime into a corn tortilla. Nothing could be simpler or more satisfying. (Well, maybe a dollop of truly fiery salsa, unapologetic and not patronizing, would have been even more satisfying.)
The chorizo taco, with house-made sausage meat, won the silver medal, a salty blend of spice and succulence that left my fingers slippery with red grease. It left me wanting more — more tacos, washed down by more frozen margaritas (an affordable indulgence at 4.50€ a pop).
Itacate
94 rue St-Honoré, 1e
tel: 01 42 33 39 87
Topics: Dining Out and About | 12 Comments »