bleudauvergne

Next time I will try the baking soda trick. Thank you Jack!

Desperate Expats Guide : Bagels. 1) Get some levain bread dough from the baker. Don't be picky. 2) Form a bagel shape from the dough. Don't worry, it doesn't have to look pretty. You're not going to be selling this. It be ugly and that is AOK. Let the bagel shape rise for about 15 minutes. 3) Give your bagel shaped dough a bath in salted boiling water to give it a life. 4) Voila, your bagel shaped dough has taken a new path in life. It is now a freshly newborn bagel, so ugly, only a mother could love it. I love you, my precious! 5) Bake for 15 minutes in a hot oven. Pull out the fresh hot bagel and let it cool until easily handled. Slice in half and grill until toasted. Serve with cream cheese. It came very close. (well, not really. ) Lunch: 'A bagel'.

Randi, I've found that experiencing Thanksgiving away from home makes me think really hard about it. Not just the meal, but what it means. People ask me, what is Thanksgiving? Is the well thought out answer I give always exactly what I feel it to be in my heart? Is it the comfort of home? Those dishes mama makes every year, and only at Thanksgiving? Is it about giving Thanks for what we have? Community? Family? All of those things? Is it about stuffing? I find that every year my thoughts about Thanksgiving are different. Every year I learn something new about myself. This will be my 10th Thanksgiving abroad in my adult life. Cranberries. Now you've touched on a difficult theme. Five years ago I found nothing. I was asking my mother to bring cans. (My mother used to do something with cranberries and orange peels in the blender - hmm, won't be reliving that again) Then discovered that a frozen foods purveyor, Picard, sometimes stocked them frozen. They didn't do the trick. I now hear through the grapevine that they can be had at the Ikea food shop. I considered going to Ikea for the sole reason of obtaining cranberries. Imagine. Drive one hour. Spend 45 minutes circulating in the parking lot. Maneuver through the maze. Find cranberries. I should make some real sauce - can you post your recipe? Hilary, thanks for the compliment on the bowls. I got them at the annual ceramics fair that takes place every September in Lyon. This fair dates back to medieval times when the king declared that the artisans could sell their goods at this particular fair once a year without having to pay tax. The tradition has been upheld and the fair is enormous. There are lots of pretty things to see and buy at that time.

Those tartes just caught my eye, I didn't buy any.

Thanks to everyone for your kind comments. This morning, brisk and clear, was perfect for the errands I had to run. Before leaving for the market, I happened across the thread in which a member asks how to prepare J Robuchon's recipe for mashed potatoes, which in turn gets me lost in a dreamy swoon all though Jack's Potato Primer. So finally getting my butt out of the house I’m still thinking about potatoes. All my life I’ve been a potato blind. I knew there were some that made good potato salad, and some that were better for puree, and which kind to choose when I make the tartiflette, but I never seem to remember which kind is which, when I see a potato in the bin I am simply clueless. And there are plenty to choose from. This is the one that is recommended for Robuchon's famous purée de pommes de terre. It's really easy to see how someone like me can mix this up with new potatoes, because they're little just like them... I asked the vendor a few questions and she was surprised I didn’t know everything about potatoes. Educate me, I pleaded. Are they always that small? Well, this is the ratte, they look like that because that’s the race. OK. I'm actually at the market to ask the vollailler what the word is. She's got a line of customers, and I'm not going to get into a long conversation with her, but she said she'd check and see what she could get for me for the feast. We had narrowed it down to a goose or a turkey when we last spoke this weekend. I was thinking I might be more likely to get a goose in a large size, thinking they are grown large pretty much all year - and she said she'd check to see if she could get a big Goose. I wanted her to get the goose mainly because I knew that she would prepare it herself, and she wouldn't mangle the bird. This morning she'd done her checking, and she seemed concerned about being able to feed my group with a goose, she says they don't have nearly as much meat as the turkeys. She expressed this concern again. She said the largest she could get is about 4 kilos, and she didn't think that would be enough for 10 people. A turkey of the same size is going to have significantly more meat, she said. She showed me another turkey that she had ready for another order for today, and I saw that it was in pretty good shape although it did have that huge signature gash along the side of the opening where you stuff it at the bottom. What do they do to cause this GASH and why can't they just cleanly remove the innards without completely destroying it? Oh well. I orderd the turkey. Images of the crepin crown of thorns comes to mind again. Look, if anyone has experience with Geese, and can recommend one anyway, I might go back and change my order. This woman has a heart of gold. Moving on down the line, I see an enormous brioche. I am thinking I would kill for a bagel at the moment. Bagel. A real bagel. This idea has gotton into my head, not a bagel from the only bagel shop in Lyon, a place that imports them frozen from the Netherlands and then lets them sit in the window all day long in the sun drying out and looking stale. A bagel. These kinds of thoughts haunt me from time to time. I could be perfectly content with a slice of brioche. But no. Nothing but a bagel will do. I saw a guy who sells pumpkins and squash and now that the season is in full swing he's been preparing nice jars of velouté. This attracts me because the pies have not been decided, and since he prepared this just a few days ago, it's bound to be good, and it will save us some work. I asked if he adds anything - he said that since the pumpkin has a hint of a chestnut flavor, he adds only a little but of chestnut to the puree. Otherwise it's pure pumpkin. I get one. I ask the guy selling the endives if keeps them in the dark. He explains that during the summer they're in the ground. And then when it's time, they take the roots and pack them with some dirt in crates and put them in a dark basement. Then one month later, voila, here are the endives. I didn't buy any, but I do plan to get some of these and see how they taste. Desperate for a bagel, I figure I've got one down and one to go if I get some cream cheese. I hustle back to the boulanger and ask if they have any dough, any kind will do. I am dead set on a bagel for lunch. While she's in the back getting some, I see a couple of interesting looking tartes. Seeing these reminds me why these people do such good business. Now, down to the business of patching together some semblance of a bagel.

Hey, I have never considered the mashed potato with such intensity! Thank you for this thread! Robuchon reccomends the moulin à legumes, a ricer (?), using the finest disk. The recipe in his book Le Meilleur et le plus simple de la pomme de terre lists the following ingredients for 6 servings: 1 kg. potatoes (ratte or BF 15) 250g. of butter 20-30 cl whole milk coarse sea salt He advises that the potatoes be all the same size to ensure they all cook evenly, advises against the blender at all costs, and says choosing new potatoes is a mistake because the mixture will turn out like paste. He says it's no mistake that the salting takes place in the beginning, in the water. His method (I translate): Wash but don't peel, and boil just covered in water that's been salted 10g. to the liter. Cook covered at a very slow boil for 20 to 30 minutes, until a knife cuts easily into one. Remove them from the water immediately and peel while warm. Pass them through the mill with the finest disk, into a big pot. Reduce the puree over low heat, stirring vigorously with a wooden spatula, for 4-5 minutes. Incorporate the cold butter little by little. At this point it is important to continue to stir this thoroughly and vigorously to get a smooth puree. Boil the milk and incorporate the hot milk vigorously into the puree until it is completely absorbed. He says If you want to make it even more light and refined, you can pass it through a tamis à toile tres fine. Vigor. The key. I think that when considering an author 'americanizing' a recipe, and considering their intentions, we should consider when it was done. Also we have to consider the style of the author. Today people want total authenticity in their recipes, but back in the day for some cookbook authors it was their mission to get people cooking French - I wonder if she just chose not to get into a long discussion of the potato type used in the original recipe, and why she's susbstituting it for something else, especially if that kind's not available? I haven't read Well's recipe. Can anyone clue me in about how far she actually strays from Robuchon's recipe?

Good Morning!

The quest for bread is always a dire one on Mondays. I'd been drifting along through the neighbordhood searching for Monday bread, and finally stumbled on that place that makes a nice loaf called the "pain du bois" which is pretty good. I must be on the same schedule as this lady because very time I go (which is no more often than once a week), she arrives, with her baby in the stroller, and buys her bread just peeking her head through the door. No need to go inside. I had some lists to make and thinking to do so I went to a little place round the corner to do so. It's kind of a ladies place. The men who go there never really fit in. The lady bartender was playing cards with her lady friend, and another woman was having tea with her sacks from this afternoon's errands. They have an air conditioner in the summer but it makes more noise than it cools the place. It is a very special little nook that I like to go to now and again. This is one of those old style places where you can stop in for an egg and no one looks at you funny. I got home and realized I had nothing for dinner. There was that half batch of dough languishing in the fridge, and some onions, shallots, garlic, leftover creme fraiche, some chevril, a couple of leaves of sorrel, and of course butter. That's something, so what if I don't have any leeks. And those brussel sprouts which were so good with the ham at lunch, I decided to steal another slice of ham. By the time Loic came home something was in the works. Tomorrow I have tons of stuff to do and to get and the larder is going to be stocked with all kinds of great stuff. Since I FORGOT THE VEAL this afternoon, I have to swing by the butcher again and pick it up first thing tomorrow and get that terrine put together early so I can Fuggeddaboudit! (It is very strange but whenever I blog they are showing Al Pacino movies on French TV).

Don't be shocked, my dear! Just accept it like many other facts of life, and most of all, enjoy it. Champagne goes with salty savory things very well, and that's just one of the many happy coincedences we discover along the way in this fascinating journey. Now about this Bamba thing. Now that you've opened this can of worms you have to clarify - because here in this country there are peanut flavored cheetoes, and there are peanut flavored cheetoes. Which kind is the one issued to each newborn in your country? Lunch was some pasta. I doused it with a ladle of the yummy rabbit stock, and topped it with brussel sprouts which I had let sizzle in the pan with a torn up thin slice of cured ham. That was a pretty good lunch. I stole the ham from the good stuff meant for the terrine. There's certainly enough left for the terrine.

The wild and farm raised rabbits have been boned, the stock is on and the meat is marinating. The two rabbits were a bit diferent in character, both being de-boned side by side. I found that the wild rabbit seemed to resist my efforts as if even now it would not like to be handled. The meat showed signs of its past life - the rabbit had been a pretty active one, with dark red meat showing that the muscles were completely engorged much of its life. The contrast against the farm raised rabbit was striking - the farm raised rabbit's soft flesh melted like butter as I simply slid my knife along and removed it from the bones. The wild rabbit resisting all the way and with much more prominent tendons. I didn't get nearly as much meat from the wild rabbit as from the farm raised one. Here you see the farm raised saddle meat, the wild saddle meat, the farm raised leg meat, and the wild leg meat. Note the much darker color from the wild animal, since it was much more active in life. They smelled different too. Along the back on the saddle there is a large piece of meat that I flattened and will use both that and the muscle that wraps down along the side to construct the decorative center of my terrine. You cut it and roll it out from one end to the other to get it flat. The darker side is the muscle that runs down the front side of the rabbit. The marinade to sit for 4 hours at least: Chopped meat from the legs and flattened saddle meat of both animals, dry white wine, olive oil, bay leaf, mixed herbs, salt and pepper. The Stock to simmer for about 2 hours: Bones and carcasses from both animals carrot onion thyme, bay, parsley, celery root. -skim for the first five minutes, and then simmer on low for awhile.

As for the peanut cheetos, this is just one of the many flavors that they make here. As far as I know, this product is French. The aperetif here is often accompanied by simple snack things like chips or nuts, or cheetoes. The difference here is that they are not normally eaten by the handful, nor do people reach for the cheetoes or chips when they are hungry. People sit around with their champagne and talk, and then take one or two of these and eat them slowly, letting them melt on their tongues. This struck me as hilarious the first time I went to friends' homes and saw them serve these snacks, first because I was under the wierd misimpression that since the French love food they'd never serve anything like cheetoes with an aperetif! But it's quite common here, among all kinds of folks, and certain flavors go really nicely with champagne. Susan is talking about the project we were working on last week, the Spotlight Conversation with Paula Wolfert (had to get in one last plug there... ) The quail were raised by this amazing woman I recently met, who's family raises and sources all kinds of birds and game animals, in addition to selling fresh hunted game during the season. The more I learn about butchers, the more I am discovering the specialty butchers - The volailler - who works only with the various birds and small game animals. She works the St. Antoine market with her husband and son. The quail I served yesterday were just your average farm raised quail, although there were tons of lovely wild ones, and wild forest pigeon, bigger birds as well, so much to choose from - and the wild ones cost more because they have to be caught. If my husband hadn't been there saying 'NO' every time I even looked at the other birds, I probably would have shelled out the cash for something more...wild. Sometimes when we're strapped for cash, my husband gets antsy and he thinks that me asking questions about this or that indicates my intention to buy. He begins to panic when I just point my finger at a bird which costs a lot more. I soothed him by saying - 'Alright, that will be all', and then as he exchanged pleasantries with her husband, I asked for the woman's phone number on the sly. Her work is very interesting to me. She barded them, wrapped them in bacon and tied 'em up for the spit. They cost about €2 each. Silly Disciple: I have been writing all of my notes for Thanksgiving on the papier calque for one reason: A bic flair pen feels so nice running across this paper that it's a luxury just to watch ideas flow out so purely onto it. I love the way the pen glides across the paper so smoothly. My father who was an artist and also an ad man, had enormous stocks of many kinds of paper. I was allowed to use any of his paper stocks when I was growing up and often found myeslf drawn to that particular paper because for me it was the most fluid idea paper. I've forgotten what it was called but it was specifically made for getting ideas quickly onto the paper. Simple clear notes came though best on this kind of paper, no resistance from the grain, never a patch of ink I didn't mean to put there, I didn't ever feel like I was scratching to get anything down. Sometimes, when you are pushing to materialize something that hasn't gelled yet, you want to physically "work" out ideas onto paper. You want to feel the resitance of the grain in the paper, or use a pencil or an implement that has more or less of a hardness or textural quality that will reassure you of the idea that your idea will take shape. In combination with your idea, and the light, and your subject, evenutally you work through to a final drawing in an almost acoustical way, like a bat navigates its way though a cave. Other times you just want plain ideas which are already clear to take their visual form, without the sound. Using this paper, the kind with no resistance, is best when your idea contains very little noise. When I'm planning out a meal like Thanksgiving, much of my planning is just combining or rehashing ideas and steps that have already been well thought out and already executed in the past. In that way it's much easier to just get them down with a flair pen on a piece of calque. There are merits to all of the papers, of course. Onion skin is also a clear fav of mine. I have also been really enjoying some cotton writing paper for letters which feels very good, but for the opposite reason - it's full of a rhythmic texture that goes well with the cadence of recounting stories. About the fridge. A few weeks ago I was supposed to remember something so I put "remember" on the door of the freezer. I think it was to remember that speculos flavored ice cream and toffee syrup makes a person fat. The letters have remained on the door long after the ice cream is gone.

Good morning folks! This morning breakfast was Coffee and a Selles-sur-Cher tartine with pepper and fleur de sel. Sorry the picture's so blah. I suppose this is an example of a photo taken by someone in a hurry! I also sampled a piece of some honey spice bread (pain d'epice pur miel) which I was thinking of cutting into strips and toasting to serve as a garnish with a foie gras au torchon. It is a nice compliment to the liver. The last time I had it was at Chez Pierre, It was very lightly toasted, enough to make it crunchy and it was a nice accompaniment to the fois gras. Not too sweet. Cut into rather symmetrical strips. I tossed the slice in the oven while it was still hot from heating up my tartine. The bread came out very soft. I let it sit for a few minutes and it got crunchy again. I was thinking with this in mind that I might put the strips into some kind of shape or mould while it's still warm and let it harden that way. In addition, I took vitamins because I've been fighting off a cold, and a small glass of peach juice. I have to really squeeze everything I can out of today, in addition to some kitchen tasks that must be done now, it is my day to hurry up and finish up a couple of projects I've been working on. Most everything is closed today, except one of my butchers. The library, the St. Antoine Market, the Halle on my square, all of the neighborhood grocery stores except for one imports shop, also my boulanger. Monday is kind of dead in my neighborhood. I also have to write a letter. My work these days is taking place at various places in the city.

Smithy, nice eye! I bought it along with two other for 10 Francs (about €1,50) for the lot at a vide granier (that's a garage sale) two weeks after we arrived in France. These little old ladies were trying to get rid of a whole lot of stuff, I needed something to cook in for the two of us, the price was right. I didn't even look underneath until I got it home. It was old when I got it, and I use it all the time. Basically I try and keep Loic from leaving it to soak, and we don't run it though the machine. Otherwise I use it on the cook top and also in the oven. Basically I do what I can beforehand. That means shop, and whatever I manage to fit in before the guests arrive. When I am in the kitchen I move rather quickly and try and keep my time in the kitchen to a minimum. This also means choosing dishes that aren't going to be difficult to execute or risk getting ruined if I have to leave them. I knew that I could basically turn down the heat down low once I had the salad ready for the gizzards, and hold it there for awhile. This way I could go out and listen to Mathieu's stories a bit and choose a good moment to serve the salad. I also break tasks down into much smaller ones and space them all out so that I can stop at any moment if I need to. For instance, making the pastry honestly takes about 1 minute, I know the recette and I just make it. I just put it in the fridge and it's done. I make sure I work cleanly so that mess doesn't slow me down. I use plastic placemats to protect my work space and then empty them off into the waste basket just as soon as I am done with a task. The last thing is that Loic is a really good backup and great conversationalist - if I do need to slip away the guests hopefully don't feel neglected. We can't serve something cooked just right without slipping out here and there, now can we? Swisskaese, I did not put mustard in the butter that I smeared on the birds. Lets see. It was salt, butter, cider vinegar from normandy, and a spoonful of a spice mix I have on hand at all times with the following proportions: 3 paprika, 1/2 ground dried chipotle, 1 salt, 1 black pepper, 1 garlic powder, 1 dried shallots, 1 herbes de provence. Lindak, the rotisserie is built into the oven. It's great and I love it because with my little oven everything browns up nice and evenly. I have roti'ed just about everything I could attach to the spit. Leg of lamb does quite nicely, game birds of all kinds, rabbit, and of course my favorite, the plain old chicken. Dinner tonight was very very simple. First we played around with the cocktail shaker and made something with the vin de noix. It was pretty, vin de noix maison, peach juice, a touch of armagnac and an egg white. This was pretty good with peanut cheetoes. I think it might have also gone well with roquefort tartelettes. This I will save for a rainy day. Soup consisting of: carrots, shallots, garlic, a couple of small potatoes, fish stock from yesterday, white wine, lemon, creme fraiche, salt, pepper and spice mix (above), pureed like I like it. It had a nice balance and went well with the country bread we had leftover from lunch. Voila, a completely YELLOW MEAL. (it had lots of veggies in it, though!) I'm off to bed, tomorrow morning I have a task to complete before leaving for the market - I have to debone a rabbit and a lapin de garenne which is a wild bunny but not a lievre. This will be placed to marinate for the day. I am doing this for a terrine that I will put together tomorrow night and hold until our Thanksgiving feast, since it has to sit at least 5 days before it is at its best. (our Thanksgiving feast is held on Saturday to accomodate guests (Thursday is not a holiday here). Goodnight all.

Today is Sunday. We often invite relatives for Sunday lunch at our house, and catch up with them one by one. This week we invited cousin Mathieu, who has just returned from a stage in Ecuador, where he was studying equitable commerce as part of his business studies here in Lyon. He had lots of interesting stories to tell. We started the meal with a simple aperetif of Clairette de Die, a sparkling wine made from Muscat grapes, served with thin slices of various sausages, which we buy at the market, and some smoked almonds. We found a nice source of artisan made sausages in interesting flavors recently. On the board you see saucisson sec of four different kinds: Cepe (a kind of mushroom), figue (fig), noisette (hazelnut) and myrtille (wild blueberry!) all of these sausages have things mixed in with the meat and take on the flavor of the added ingredients. This is an amusing way to serve sausage, that’s for sure! While we enjoyed the aperetif and Mathieu told us stories, I slipped back to the kitchen to throw together a pate brisé for dessert. I always make this in small batches because my freezer does not have much room and I prefer to work with it fresh. For one tourte or two small tartes, my base recipe is: 160 g. flour type 45 (it's about a breakfast bowl full, but I always weight it.) 70g. butter low moisture (which is a bit more than half a stick of butter) 1 egg yolk 1-2 T. crème fraîche epaisse It gives me a nice ball to work with. Sometimes I substitute the butter with duckfat and the creme fraiche with stock, depending on what I'm putting inside the tarte or tourte I'm putting together. The dough was put in the fridge for later and I put together the salad which would be our first course today, a salad with mixed greens and crudités with house gesiers de canard (duck gizzards) confit. This is how the gizzards looked after I pulled them out of the fat. I always run them under warm water to remove as much of the fat as possible, since duck fat melts quickly and easily, it is easily washed off the gizzards, and they are none the worse for wear. Then I sliced them thin and heated them up in the pan while I prepared the greens and the dressing. This salad was inspired by that pretty salad Abra served last week, from Paula’s book. But since I didn’t have any duck leg confit, I used the gizzards. I liked the idea of crudités, celery root, carrot, some fennel, and various herbs, plus some roquette for a little depth with the greens. I used Paula’s recipe for the dressing with moutarde violette, salt, pepper, walnut oil, and vinegar. This salad was light and tasted great. I took out the cheese plate to warm as I served the salad. We served this salad with a Chateau Castagens Cotes de Castillon 2002. This morning, before Mathieu arrived, I had mixed up some butter with spices and vinegar to cover three little quails I got at the market. This is rubbed onto the birds while they are on the spit and put away until it’s time to grill them. About 20 minutes before they’re to be served, I throw them on the rotisserie and start frying up some very simple potato cakes. Potato, salt, pepper, and a very teensy bit of fat from the confit. Basically this is hashed browns. The quail was very popular, they were meaty and delicious. As I cleared the plates from the quail, I put dessert together, very simply, with leftover slices of a coing (quince) that I had braised with creme de cassis and wine, covered it with a layer of shaved chocolate, and popped in the oven for 20 minutes. (here it is before I popped it in the oven and came out with the cheese. The cheese plate is a bit haphazard : (starting at 12 o'clock) a nice Tomme de Savoie (cow), a Selles sur Cher (goat), Comte (cow), a no name brebis (sheep) soft cheese bought from the producer at the market for €1, a Tomme de brebis (sheep), Vieux Morbier (cow), and in the middle a little log of chevre (goat), which my husband picked out at the market and I like very much. I will find out the name of that one tomorrow because he doesn't remember it. The soft brebis is a welcome addition to the plate, because it dissapeared for about 3 years and has recently been brought back by the same guys. It makes a very nice tartine because it melts beautifully and harmonizes with pepper in the most heavenly way. Dessert: Simple but good. a dollop of chantilly, maybe flavoured with a little something, would have very good with this. Mathieu does not like 'creamy things' so I did not prepare anything like that but I will next time. I'm glad I made this tarte with a pate brise. Hey thanks guys, for the comments! Kathleen, t-shirts?! Good Lord! I am not getting nervous, I am not getting nervous. M. Lucia: To read about the yearly turkey trauma I undergo in France every year, I refer you to a thread from last year's thanksgiving : Expat Thanksgiving 2004, France Arey, we have been tossing around a few interesting ideas. Loic is still hoping for the whole bird, but he is not as dead set on it as he was last year. Just to let you know, I hate making final decisions until the last minute, I like to stay open to as many possibilities as I can. I'll post some notes so maybe you can get a good idea of the way I work, but don't take them as written in stone. We eat light on Sunday evenings. In a couple hours I'll be posting again.

Hello dear friends, members of eGullet! Stan asked me if I would be interested in blogging this week and I said yes – that was back in I think September. He is very cunning in his ways. I wonder if it’s going to be possible to see the rhythms as I weave through this week. So much is changing, life is taking special, lucky turns. The routine I am trying to establish is not perfect yet, I’m in the midst of a battle to get used to a new one. I am doing the best I can to prepare to catch the golden apple next time it comes ‘round, and we’ve got the holiday coming up. It’s very particular being in a holiday mood when everyone around you has no clue. Can you imagine it? Your own private secret holiday. It’s important to try and keep things cool as I deal with my vendors, they are on a completely different wavelength. They just don’t ‘get’ the idea of monumental importance that seems to be oozing from my being. They know I’m a strange one, they think it’s funny, and from there, we do Thanksgiving. At the same time I keep my daily life grinding along. The leaves are changing here in Lyon, the weather has gotten cold, we had ourselves the annual a glass of the Beaujolais Nouveau (I don’t know why they said it was supposed to be more ‘traditional’ this year, it still tasted like banana bubblegum to me.) We took this moment, as we have for the last few years, to map out what we might like to do this year for the holiday. I’ve taken out my notes and taken a chance to remember what I liked and didn’t like about last year. In any case, I have a loose plan laid out (I don’t like to write things in stone, especially when blogging!) and I heartily welcome you to accompany me through this week. I hope I can do it justice.

Beautiful. Simply beautiful. Abra, you have done a beautiful job. The shots from this morning remind me of home.

Thanks for taking us there, Abra. It's been super so far, can't wait to see your notes on how the dinner went!

The forum is now closed to new posts and responses from the membership, to allow Paula to give her final responses. Thanks for your participation and see you at the next eG Spotlight Presentation!

We would like to take this opportunity to thank Paula for her generous participation and all of you for your kind and thoughtful questions and remarks. We'll see you again at the next eG Spotlight Presentation!

Today is the last day of the eG Spotlight Conversation with Paula Wolfert. As usual, Paula is turning out to be a most charming guest! You still have a chance to post your questions and discuss the current topics over in the Spotlight Conversation Forum. We will continue to take questions until Noon (Pacific US Time), at which time we will close the forum to new questions in order to allow Paula time for her last round of answers for the conversation. Moderator's note: This has been edited for a time correction.

Can you tell us more about that dish, Paula? Does it involve a whole turkey?

The calendar event for this item is Here. The menu: Did any other eGullet members attend this event? I'd love to hear which were your favorite dishes on this menu. Paula, this dinner was a book signing event. Do you often do this kind of thing involving a meal and a book signing? Do tell us more about how this was arranged.

My goodness. Sounds like you had a horrid meal. Did your friends notice about the wine too?

What a wonderful day, Abra. Sleep well!

My apologies to Christopher! I'll put the photo of the cover shot you desccribe above here again so we can see it in the context of this thread. Your husband was puffing up the fire... So Mme Hirsheimer took all of the photos in the book right there in your kitchen, and you prepared each of the dishes yourself for the photos. That must have been one huge cooking extravaganza. Did you invite all of your neighbors to enjoy the bounty at that time? On another note, Mme Christopher Hirsheimer might be an interesting future guest for a spotlight conversation!