Gathering Dinner in Meslay Du Maine

I love going to the grocery store in France.  Walking down the aisles is pure pleasure, so I always allow time to give things a good look. 

 A few days ago, I stumbled on Speculoos.  It tastes like ground up cookies in the form of peanut butter (upon further research, I’ve found it gets sold at Trader Joes…NOT GOOD!).  It’s been three days since I picked up this jar, and it’s more than half gone.  Apparently there are over 500 calories per 100 grams.  Gotta keep the energy up for working outside!

 The applesauce is unbelievable.  Most of it has no sugar, and it comes in flavors like vanilla and apricot (don’t get that, but I’m into it).  Even so, it’s fantastic. 

Now check out this pudding aisle.  That’s right, an entire refrigerator section devoted to nothing but pudding.  The other side, nothing but yogurt.  Seems excessive, no?  I mean seriously, how much pudding could one person eat?  Judging by the popularity of the aisle, the French love it. 

 If pudding isn’t your thing, why don’t you take a walk down one of the two long cheese aisles? 

 You like mustard?  There’s an ENTIRE aisle devoted to it. 

If you’re feeling like keeping it healthy, head to the veggie section.   In search of corn on the cob one afternoon, I noticed there was absolutely none to be had.  No frozen corn, no fresh corn, and certainly no canned corn.  I asked a friend here, what gives?  She explained to me that the French certainly would not eat something like corn. “It is for the animals you see, and the people of France are not animals.”  You know, she has a point…if it’s used to fatten up cows, maybe we shouldn’t be chowing down on it so often? 

Just down the street from the grocery store sits a gorgeous butcher and bakery.  The croissants are always beautiful, and the tartes are a feast for the eyes.  

The butcher has some interesting creatures inside, but if you like things a bit fresher just take a walk outside.  There is almost always a fruit and veggie market going on somewhere near (oftentimes out of a truck), but faint of heart beware. 

Those bunnies, they aren’t being sold as pets.  Neither are the chickens, ducks, geese, or little goats either.  

After the bunny I had been petting got snatched up by a particularly gruff woman buying him for dinner, I may have even gotten a bit weepy.  “There’s no crying at the market!” Alex informed me, so I sucked it up and decided to people watch instead of bunny watch.  After seeing a kid lick his lips and point to a handsome duck, I decided I had had enough (and decided not to eat meat for what ended up being two weeks). 

While it’s sad to snuggle bunnies about to be sold for dinner, it’s not all bad to have that sort of connection with the food you eat.  A large part of society has lost that connection, as well as true understanding of where the food eaten on a daily basis comes from.  In small town France however, young children look up at their parents and lick their lips as they choose a duck, rabbit, or even a goat for dinner.  And maybe that’s not the worst thing.  

Eating Our Way Through Melbourne

I have this friend named Holly.  She is a resident bad ass.  To give you an idea of just how awesome she is, try this on for size - she finished the IRON MAN just a few weeks ago.  I can barely run a mile.

Holly went skate boarding after work today and accidentally did this.  

Most people's reaction - tears, yells, freak outs...but oh no, not Holly.  She's as tough as nails.  In honor of Holly's fall, I thought I'd send out a throwback from a trip we took together...just to cheer her up :)

Almost a year ago, Holly and I took a trip to Melbourne, Australia.  We ate to our heart's content, had girl talk for days, took long walks in a city we did not know, and got to stay in a penthouse in the middle of the city FO FREE!  Every single cent (and then some) of the money we saved was spent at the Lululemon Outlet (which happened to be about 2 blocks from our place) and at a chocolate shop (Mecca) called Koko Black.  It is there that I discovered my love of salted caramel chocolate.  

So here's a little throwback from our trip - hope you feel better Ollie!

Koko Black, Melbourne

See, she's tough AND pretty.  

Melbourne is the food capital of the world.  This is a bold statement.  Especially coming from someone who has been to New Orleans.  And Rome.  While Adolfo's on Frenchman Street remains at the center of my heart (two words - ocean sauce), Melbourne offered up treasures in food I did not see comin.  

Like any smart tourists, Holly and I gleaned our dining information from the locals.  It turns out one can become good friends with said locals by spending an excessive amount of money at their place of business.  (Holly, Lululemon cough cough).  Okay, I joined in on the fun.  A few hundred dollars later, I'm officially on the Lululemon train - please go buy their sports-bra (another life changer) - but that's another post entirely.

While Holly was trying on her mountains of clothes, I struck up a friendship with a lovely young lady in a highlighter yellow shirt who seemed very excited about a discussion concerning food. 

I've come to find that you can trust these ultra fit people when it comes to food.  If you can weed out the sissies on weird diets who eat too much quinoa and not enough ice cream, they're a real wealth of knowledge.  Another clue, they tell you the names of actual dishes instead of the names of places.  "BEST espresso martini of my life.  Expensive as shit, but so worth it."  These are the people you want to seek out.  Holly and I left Lulu with an iphone list of places to visit - and trust me, we wasted no time.  Within minutes we were seated at Moat, an underground bar that reminded me very much of The Library in Wellington.  It had this sort of cigar lounge feel to it, something I really love.  Unfortunately, we had to sit and drink for a while before we could be served any food.  Shucks.

Round 1 - Moat http://themoat.com.au/Welcome.html

They aren't on the menu anymore, but the first dish was these gorgeous meatballs topped with a rich velvety tomato sauce and parmesan shavings.  We licked the bowl.  Next, potted prawns with butter, shaved fennel, lemon zest and spices.  Finally, carpaccio of green mountain veal crusted in fennel pollen with caperberries, pink grapefruit segments, preserved lemon butter.  There was probably some wine tucked in that meal too...

 Carpaccio of green mountain veal crusted in fennel pollen with caperberries, pink grapefruit segments, and preserved lemon butter - Moat, Melbourne

Potted prawns with butter, shaved fennel, lemon zest, and spices - Moat, Melbourne

Round 2 (aka Dinner #2 on the same night - that's how we roll) - Panama  http://www.thepanama.com.au/

Upon arriving at this off the beaten path gem, there was a couple screaming at each other in the street in front.  The lady half of this couple started throwin punches at which point the gentleman ran into the street and almost got hit by a moving bus.  Yep, we had found another great place.

This time, we mixed it up a bit with zucchini flowers stuffed with two cheeses, roasted red peppers, tomato, chilli and capers.  We also had this amazing ceviche and chestnut cake, but neither are on the menu anymore.  Trust me, they were gorgeous. 

 Chestnut cake - Panama Dining Room, Melbourne

 Zucchini flowers stuffed with two cheeses, roasted red peppers, tomato, chili, and capers - Panama Dining Room, Melbourne

Ceviche, Panama Dining Room - Melbourne

Round 3 - Polly Cocktail Lounge http://www.pollybar.com.au/

Bourbon Butter - Makers, PB, Butterscotch Schnapps, Frangellico, Cream
Espresso Martini  - Wyborowa Vodka, Vanilla Liquer, Coffe Liquer, Espresso

After a very full day of eating, shopping, and exploring, it was time for bed.  We didn't even make it past 10 pm.  Amateur hour.  Don't worry, we were up bright and early and ready to do it again the next day - a day that led us to the best places yet.

Aspro Ble deserves a billboard.  A book, a chapter in the Bible.  I don't know, something.  It's incredible.  The food made me want to board a plane to Positano and lay amongst the whitewashed houses with all the goats.  It's just beautiful.  Lamb souvlaki, sagaki, calamari and prawn wontons with a lemon caper sauce, baklava, and loukoumades.  

 Lamb souvlaki - Aspro Ble, Melbourne

 Sagaki with confit dates and cherries - Aspro Ble, Melbourne

 Calamari and prawn dumplings with lemon caper sauce - Aspro Ble, Melbourne

 Loukoumades - Aspro Ble, Melbourne

At the end of this meal, I was beggin the good lord for mercy, because I did not think I could stand up from the chair. I used to think I didn't like baklava.  When Holly ordered, I rolled my eyes in my head and thought "What is this, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants?  Amateur hour over here!"  I was wrong.  This baklava changed my life with every. single. bite.  I can't even talk about it anymore.

Baklava - Aspro Ble, Melbourne

And finally, with the blessing of the great Annie Bergman, I visited her old stomping groups.  Lygon Street in Carlton.  For those of you who have never heard of it, imagine a street that smells of tomatoes and basil.  A street full of italians and greeks all calling out for your business.  "Basta! Basta! This is the one for you!"

An old Italian man stopped us as we were walking by.  "What does this sound like to you?  What kind of music ees dis?" "Um, I think that's techno.  Definitely techno."  "See son, I told you this was techno!  Absolute trash."  "Ladies, would you like a CD?"  And along we went. Next door down -  "You stop in here for lunch, we give you 30% off your whole bill."  We continue walking, drawn down the street by the promise of that one hidden gem.  Unlike yesterday, we came to Lygon Street unarmed with our arsenal of local knowledge, trusting that the wind would blow us in the right direction.  (I ended up asking a lady at a kitchen store where to go.  I couldn't risk it, but don't tell Holly).  To Tiamo we go.  I knew when we got there that this was the place.  San Pellegrino in glass, the magic arrives.  It is in the form of a truffle and mushroom handmade tortellini.  

With the eggplant and chicken parmigiana, absolute and utter nirvana.  I was never sure what that naked baby was swimming after in the blue water, but I've finally found it.  It is Tiamo chicken parmigiana.  It is Aspro Ble Baklava.  It is here, in Melbourne, the greatest food city in the world.

Chez Casimir

Two nights ago, I had one of the best meals of my life.  Each course was taken in slowly and adored with eyes rolling into the back of the head sort of motions...maybe even audible noises coming from our table in the corner.

This seems to be a normal meal in Paris.  Four courses of mind blowingly good food, savored over the course of many hours.  

It's not five stars, and it's not excessively expensive.  This is their normal, solid restaurant - and it's freakin spectacular.  

Chez Casimir - a few blocks from Gare Du Nord Metro tucked away behind a church.  

Seafood soup - tasted like it was started with a seafood stock and then thickened with some sort of puree.  Then they added back pieces of winter vegetables and shaved parmesan.  To make it even better, they brought us an entire tureen of it.  The smoothest and best tasting soup either of us have ever had.

Herbed goat cheese on toast with mixed greens and a balsalmic and honey reduction.  It was maybe the best part of the entire meal - if that's even possible to decide.

 Au Gratin potatoes.  These would probably make Paula Deen cry.

 Grilled flank steak with wine and parsley.  Cooked perfectly.

 Veal stew with winter vegetables.  The meat fell apart when you touched it with a fork.

 The cheese course in France is serious business.  The star for me was the goat cheese with raisins.  Alex loved the cheese so soft that it has to be kept in a bowl.  I'm not sure i'm on board with the excessive mold in a few of these cheese, but I did try it.  I'll work up to it...

 Sort of an accidental order because of my mangled attempts at French.  Passion fruit creme brulee - it stole the show.

 Pastry shell filled with chocolate ganache and paired with caramel ice cream with mint.  Yes, it was as good as it looks.

 Have to finish it up with some coffee.

Now there are two restaurants in the "best meal of my life" category.  #1 - Trattoria Anita in Florence.  #2 - Chez Casimir.  If you're ever in Paris, check it out...you'll be so glad you did!

A Perfect Day in Paris

In terms of cities, some seem to sparkle just a bit more than others.   

And Paris, well...it may as well be the Hope Diamond.  

Thousands of people have loved Paris, written about Paris, and lusted after Paris.  Just the word itself conjures up images of romance and Marie Antoinette style decadence.  

For me, Paris has always looked like a black and white snapshot of a cafe at night or a couple kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower.  It's classic.  And honestly, if Audrey Hepburn says that "Paris is always a good idea," then it must be a good idea.  

And you know what's crazy?  Paris really does look like those images we all have floating around in our heads.  The food is beautiful, the buildings are stunning, and the night walking is unparalleled (unless you're in Pigalle (see stripper district) - in which case you're gonna get a whole different kind of night walking...).  The whole place is a walking history book.  

The problem - there's WAY too much to do if you only have a few days.  It's easy to get overly ambitious and try to see everything.  Which brings me to our perfect day, and what we did...which was actually fairly little.  

We spent the morning at Musee L'Orangerie followed by a long picnic lunch and sun nap in the gardens next to the museum.  

All in, the gathering of the lunch and the naps following lasted about three hours.  The sun nap was followed by browsing in antique stores near The Louvre (we didn't even pretend to go in - long lines, no thanks), macaroons, and a long walk around central Paris.  This walk led us home to a long and very decadent afternoon nap.  

After this late afternoon nap, we headed out for a late and very long dinner at Chez Casimir (so insanely good it needs its own post tomorrow).  The long dinner was four courses over almost four hours.  The French have this dining thing down solid.

Full and tired, I somehow convinced Alex to round out our perfect day with a midnight trip to the Trocadero, the absolute best place to photograph the Eiffel Tower at night.

As it turns out, the key to Paris was not to do too much and not to move too fast.  During this perfect day, I think we accomplished both perfectly.