Thursday, February 25, 2010

Paris Part 3

Too much awesome food to write about, too little time to write about it.  My first night in Paris, many many weeks ago, I met up with one of my old co-workers who is now living there.  Lucky duck.  We went to Le Bistrot Paul Bert, a perfect French bistro in a perfect French neighborhood.  I started my night with a bang, deep fried head cheese with aioli.


Head cheese is awesome.  So many textures in one little bite - gelatinous, chewy, meaty, crunchy.  The best of all nasty bits rolled in to one, and then fried.  Deeply fried.  

To counterbalance the hypertension-inducing starter, I got the filet de dorade with cockles and risotto.  


The risotto was perfectly cooked, slightly al dente but creamy.  It absorbed the flavors of the ocean from the sweet cockles and dorade.  I love dorade, it's flaky without being dry.  Succulent and delicious.  The perfect fish.

I rounded out my first night in Paris with the quintessential Parisian dessert, tarte tatin.  Rich and caramel-y, the gooey deliciousness is brightened with the tart creme fraiche-like creme.


The table next to us was drinking a ginormous glass of wine.  When I say ginormous, I mean Jolly Green Giant size.  He was kind enough to let me take a picture in return, I had to taste the wine.  Uh, win-win?


I couldn't leave Paris without having a crepe, or two.  Which is exactly what I did during lunch one day, have two crepes, that is.  


First up, a tomato, ham, cheese and egg crepe.  I am powerless in the presence of runny eggs.  I must order them when on the menu.  The crepe was simple and delicious.


Really people, the thinness of a crepe is deceptive.  One crepe per meal is more than enough.  But hey, I was in Paris.  I must stuff myself silly every meal.  It's a crime not to, I swear.  They told me.  The food police did. Crepe #2 was a salty butter and caramel crepe, sprinkled with sugar.  Enough said.  YUM.

Did you know that salty and sweet crepes are made with different types of flour?  I didn't.  The grittiness of the salty crepe flour stands up well to the robust ingredients.  While the softer sugar crepe flour complements the delicate dessert flavors.

Did you know the French drink cider when eating crepes?  I didn't know that either.  I am in love with the French cider.  My favorite part is the cool little pitcher and bowls you drink the cider from.  It is not sweet like the British kind, lightly sparkly, so yummy.  I must look for it when I'm back in the states!


Saturday, February 20, 2010

Paris Part 2

If one eats foie gras during lunch and dinner in one day, that probably crosses the line between indulgence and extreme excess.  I stood firmly in the extreme excess realm in Paris.

I started my day of excess with mulitple croissants and a couple of macarons.  Before I had a chance to brush the crumbs off my face, it was time for lunch with my wonderful French colleagues.  We strolled over to the lovely A Table, where we were met with some toast with tapenade when we sat down.


The perfect bite to begin the meal.  I followed up that perfect bite with a bit of soup, sort of.


Calling this soup doesn't really do it justice.  Pureed lentils soup topped with shaved foie gras.  Genius?  I think yes.  Earthy, creamy, and deeply flavorful.

I could have just eaten this for lunch and be satisfied.  But why stop there?  I didn't, I got the tartare de boeuf instead.


Tartare is one of those dishes that I love but don't eat enough.  Probably because I am often disappointed by them - gummy and stringy.  But not this one.  This one was awesome.  The meat was bright and perfectly seasoned.  It had the perfect texture, soft and beefy.  And the fries, mmmm...  the French, they really know their fries.

We went to Cafe la Jatte for dinner that night, where I crossed the line.  Cafe la Jatte was designed by Eiffel, as in Eiffel Tower Eiffel.  How cool is that?


After going gaga for the space, I settled down with more foie gras.  This time, as a slab with some mango jam.    I love foie gras.  It you didn't know that before, now you know.  


For my entree, I went with something that sounded less unhealthy, the smoked cod with mashed potatoes and pink peppercorn.  


Of course this was tasty as well.  The cod has a deep smoky flavor which was an interesting and tasty combo with the mashed potatoes.  The meat was tender and flaky.  The entire dish was brightened up by the crushed peppercorn and the bunch of parsley.

I had the baba au rum for dessert and sampled some cheeses.  Stinky raw cheeses, how I love thee.  



Rocamadour was a goat cheese, very gamey, almost rich in its gaminess.  I liked it a lot but my heart belonged to the Saint Marcellin.  Creamy to the point that it sticks to you and stinky in the way that only great cheeses can stink and still make you love it.  The perfect way to end a perfect day.


Thursday, February 18, 2010

Paris Part 1 - The Pastry Edition

I ate well in Paris, very well, maybe too well.  My wonderful coworkers ensured that every meal was better than the last and that I maintained a state of over-satiation at all times.  Seriously, I forgot what hunger felt like for those few days in Paris.

I started each day with croissants, as in, I consumed a couple of them before lunch time .  Of course I know one is enough, but when there are bags of fresh croissants in various flavors, how do you have just one?  


I usually start with a simple plain croissant.  Is there anything better than the perfect croissant?  Flaky, airy, buttery.  It has just a touch of salt and a touch of sweet.  Perfect.


Then I move on to a pain chocolat.  The same lovely buttery layers, but kicked up a bit with a slick of chocolate.  Sometimes, you just need that slick of chocolate in the morning.


Then there is the almond croissant.  I can't decide which I love more.  Although the almond croissant is made with day old regular croissants, the soft and chewy texture filled with almond paste makes it a worthy contender for my top 3 favorite pastry.  I really can't decide which of the three I love best.  Probably why I ate as many as my tummy can possibly hold everyday in Paris.

My birthday coincided with my Parisian trip.  Marie, aka the most amazing hostess ever, surprised me with a box of macarons.  Macarons = my favorite type of cookies ever.  Birthday = awesome.


My favorite in the box were the spiced wine, caramel, and pistachio.  I think croissants and macarons should be the fifth food group, i.e. the French pastries group.


Sunday, February 14, 2010

London Part 2

On a blistery Saturday, I made my way to the famed Borough Market and got me some grub, when I wasn't getting pushed and squished.  People, I hate them.  





But Borough Market, it's amazing.  Stall after stall of food stuff, from games to sweets, the whole gamut.  I zeroed in on meat pies as soon as I walked in.  Because, you know, it's British.



Despite the unappetizing grey-brown tone of the mush stuffing, this was actually really good.  The crust was hot, buttery, and flaky.  The stuffing is quite flavorful.  But I'll bet you that you can't tell it was a chicken and veggie pastry just by looking at it, can you.  No, I didn't thinks so. 

After more pushing and shoving thru people, I made my way to a seafood stand that seemed to sell things that still look like the original ingredients.


Their specialty is grilled scallops topped with bacon bits.  So tasty.  The scallops were super fresh and slightly raw in the middle.  Plus, you just can't go wrong with scallops and bacon.  Classic.

Being in London, one must eat Indian food, so eat I did.  I randomly went to a place called Bhatti, more because it had some sign that said best Indian or something.  I am easily swayed by signs.

I started with some grilled lamb chops.  There were delicious.  They were extremely tender and moist, incredibly flavorful with all those warm and fragrant Indian spices.  


To achieve a balanced meal, I opted for the vegetarian platter.  It was quite a platter, some spinich stuff, some potato stuff, some lentil stuff, raita, salad, and gulab jamun.  It came with fluffy rice and an even fluffier nan.  The nan was super tasty.  Softy and pillowy but grilled on one side to give it texture.  The dishes were all good, though my favorite was the gulab jamun.  It was almost pudding like, sweet but not too sweet.  Tasty.


Everytime I eat Indian, I am reminded again how much I love it.  Yum.




Sunday, February 07, 2010

London Part 1

I have a couple of rules when it comes to eating.  1. Try everything once.  I follow the "don't knock it until you try it" mantra.  2. If I don't like something, try it again in an year.

As they say, rules are meant to be broken.  I finally found a food that I will probably never try again.  We'll get to that in a little bit.  First, the good stuff!

I finally made my way to St. John's Restaurant in London, after dreaming about it for ages.  I had the roasted bone marrow with parsley salad.


There is nothing bad to say about this.  Bone marrow is meaty, unctuous, and full of flavor.  Smear it over some toasted bread, sprinkle a bit of salt, it's the perfect hearty snack.  I loved the parsley salad.  Refreshing.

I also had the roasted shallots (not like the American shallots, they're more like baby onions), goat cheese, and mint salad.  This again is a simple dish, but interesting and tasty in flavor.  I've never thought of putting goat cheese with onions.  But it works.  The mint salad was tasty, just wish there was more of it.


One morning, I decided to have a proper English fry-up breakfast, complete with beans and tomatoes.  Well, I guess it's not a true fry-up since I couldn't help but throw a croissant in there.  Surprisingly, I actually liked the beans.  They were tangy and sweet.  Not something I'd crave, but I would eat it if it's on my plate.  The sausage was good, but the mushrooms were a bit boring.  


Not all English traditions agreed with me.  Case in point, the one food that I shall never ever try again - the pickled egg.


I would say that I have a very broad palate.  There isn't much in this world that I wouldn't eat.  Then there is the pickled egg.  A puckery hard boiled egg.  Yeah, it tastes exactly like what it sounds like, just more rubbery.  It's definitely something that is an acquired taste.

In the background lies a quarter of a pork pie.  Kind of like spam in a cold, greasy, flaky crust.  Not something I'd seek out, but I would eat it if I'm starving, and if it is drowned in mustard.

I did love the bar that served the above creations, Ye Olde Mitre Tavern, which is one of the oldest pubs in London.  It was definitely good times that night, minus the few minutes swallowing that egg.