Ptipois

Sorry if this is not primarily about food, but I'm coming to this debate a bit late. Unlike the CPE, which was a hastily patched-up reform of employment conditions and massively impopular (up to and including some representatives of employers), the tobacco laws are a matter of public health, and one that has been discussed for quite a long time in France. Not a hasty reform project but a long-standing debate finally coming to its conclusions, after gradual evolution. Quite a different matter. I don't think there is any risk of heavy demonstrations except of tobacconists; people care for their health, and that includes the smokers. Someone at the government hinted that it would make sense to accompany those laws with free healthcare programs aimed at helping people quit smoking. The aim is really not so much to freshen the air in restaurants than to lessen, at length, the number of smokers in France, and it is expected that some will find it a good opportunity to drop the cig at last. Though I don't smoke (except a cigar every so often when I'm offered a good one ) and I heartily welcome those laws, I feel a little sad for the cafés. I think at least it should still be possible to smoke in our troquets.

In the case of thick Norman cream (crème crue), the thing is already almost butter, so it doesn't take a long whipping to realize it. I also think it has a lesser water content than crème liquide so it's harder to emulsify and trap the tiny air bubbles in the texture. It is possible to whip crème crue normande in chantilly but 1) the cream has to be new, before the natural hardening stage and 2) you should always add a little water. Of course 3) the cream and bowl should be very cold but that applies to all creams and won't prevent your cream to curdle into butter if it's not the right quality. The cream subject is really tricky because creams are so dissimilar from one country to another. The multiplicity of ferments, the different states of liquidity in commercial creams, etc. The real crème problem in France is that it's almost impossible to find sour cream. Crème fraîche is a totally different product.

Crème Chantilly will be successful with crème liquide or crème fleurette. Crème crue usually won't do it because it's too thick, and the older it is, the less whippable it will be. As it ages, it often gets a little sourish from fermentation and is not suitable for whipping. "Crème double" used to be thinner than it is now, and it was typically unfermented. If you do find new crème crue from Normandy (still a bit runny), thin it down with a little water (not milk!) in order to give it the consistency of crème liquide. Then whip it, but be careful, it is more likely to turn into butter than crème liquide is.

← You'll be safe with "je voudrais acheter de la pâte feuilletée, s'il vous plaît." If you say "la pâte cru(e), le feuilletage" just like that, you may meet with a few raised eyebrows before you get what you want. Also "feuilletage" is a professional term that is not really expected from boulangerie clients.

The thing to buy for a better ricotta substitute is called "brousse", it's everywhere, and it's the French equivalent of ricotta. Harder to find: get Corsican brocciu or ricotta from an Italian store.

Potatoes are good, and the local pineau from the island coop is very nice. The name is "Ilrhea".

Oh, then it's urgent that you tell us the name of this restaurant, so that we don't end up going there by mistake (even if we can always make fun of the English menu. I'm surprised at how some people don't realize that translating is a human activity requiring a bit of knowledge).

Oh, that. It is actually very dated: menu language from the 80's to mid-90's, still in use but somewhat waning. It also denotes, for nebulous reasons, a restaurant that tries to be stylish but somewhat in vain. Maybe because it's a rather silly style. It sounds weird and corny, even in French. You can't help picturing the main element of the meal growling: these are my toasts, don't touch them! But practically, I believe it is supposed to help the diner know what goes with what, and not throw the croûtons in their glass of wine, for instance.

Now this is fun, those menus should be collected. Stealing this one was a good idea. There is a great similarly translated menu painted on the front of a restaurant near my place, I should take a picture of it while it's still there. It would also be fun to study whether the quality of the translation and the quality of the food are correlated. How was your meal, Felice? Sounds like a rather fancy place.

Aren't there any fun and figurative names in the English language either? What about toad-in-the-hole and hush puppies? If I order the former I'm not going to expect to be served a warty batracian in a cavity. I don't think anybody would expect being served an actual fireman's apron in Lyon.

Just use some vegetable, sunflower-oil-based margarine like Fruit d'or.

Even at the Café Delaville, which is a spacious place (that was in March I believe), it was so crowded that it was — just forget it. I wonder what it will be like at the small Alimentation Générale. I think the best Fooding events are the very large ones, when they rent huge spaces that can accomodate crowds. The Winter Fooding 2002 at the Palais de Tokyo was the classic and most remembered example.

That's a tough one, because I don't have a ready answer for all those questions. And I hardly ever have one super-favorite, I have at least two. I find myself in harmony with Felice on more than one point! Bistro: L’Ami Jean (or Le Baratin, ex-aequo). Brasserie: No idea. Jenny, perhaps, because it's like travelling back in time, and the choucroute is nice. Patisserie: the cakes, pastries and éclairs from La Maison du Chocolat. I'm really not crazy about pâtisserie moderne. Cheese Shop: Alain Dubois, rue de Tocqueville. For his layered blue cheese with cream of walnuts. Market: little marché Monge (5e) or huge marché Cours de Vincennes (12e). But most Parisian markets are of very high quality. Boulangerie: Moisan, or the small Italian boulangerie behind the mairie du 5e arrondissement. Also Laurent Bonneau, rue d'Auteuil. Wine Bar: no preference I can think of. Just to name one: Café de la Nouvelle Mairie, facing the abovementioned boulangerie. ONE star Michelin: I never seem to go to one-stars in Paris. I'm not doing it on purpose, I just realized that. Favorite book on food in France: Paulette Buteux's La Cuisine de ma grand-mère or Bifrons' 200 Recettes secrètes de la cuisine française.

I don't think that kind of repetitive fare is common anymore. Take a look here or here at some examples of school menus. The selection is not very large, but not that narrow either.

I will give you a Norman's answer. When I think back on my school days, I have great memories of some "cantines" and dreadful memories of others. Back in the 60's and 70's some school cantines were still pretty artisanal, with much of the food prepared on the spot from fresh ingredients. I have known such cantines, and the food could be quite nice there. But at some other schools the food was much less interesting. It was some kind of lottery. I don't think that has changed a lot, even though school cuisine, as part of the dreaded "cuisine pour collectivités", has become more industrialized. Still I hear some kids or teenagers say that their "cantine" is okay. My son Ben (20) recalls with irony the overcooked, tough "autruche aux marrons" (ostrich with chestnuts) that his school cantine chefs had decided to serve the day before Christmas vacation, about 8 or 9 years ago. He says it was a complete failure but a lot of fun to remember. A quick look on school menus pasted outside schools in France (required by the law) or seen on the Internet seems to indicate that, if things are not perfect, at least there is an effort towards quality and variety.

In France I suppose wheat cereal (cream of wheat) is preferred to rice cereal. Later, a very fine granular type of pasta (Floraline) is given to babies. It has a fine texture, slightly coarser than wheat semolina. My son and I cannot, I believe, be considered typical examples. I breast-fed for nine months, which is unusual. I was unemployed at that time and did not have much else to do. Working moms don't usually make it more than three months; had I been a working mom then, I suppose I'd have done it at least longer than three months because I did not trust processed milks. When we both got tired of it, he already had started solid foods long ago, first cream of wheat and puréed vegetables, and boiled farm cow's milk (we lived in Normandy). In France (and maybe elsewhere), early initiation to vegetables goes by a color code: first the yellow vegs (carrot, squash), then the green (green beans, spinach, zucchini), then everything else (potato, beet, artichoke, leek, etc.). Then slowly we started introducing finely ground chicken or fish, then meat. I also introduced him to cereals: everyday a different porridge — untoasted oatmeal, toasted oatmeel, corn, rice, wheat, chestnut, buckwheat. And pure farmhouse Norman butter. And plenty of home-made yogurt. Later, he developed his own disgusts and cravings, and for instance decided he would hate carrots till the end of time, but I was expecting that and did not force him into eating anything he didn't like. Now he's a fully-grown gourmet. After six months, I began puréeing a bit of most any food I had cooked for adults and gave him tiny spoonfuls of it. Whether it was spiced, strong-tasting, cooked in wine, etc., did not matter: it was important for me to get him accustomed to as many tastes as possible. I think taste education is tremendously important for children; I do believe that developing the sense of taste and smell does help the child develop his own capacity of choice in all other matters as he grows older, and it helps him avoid excesses too, by developing a sense of measure. So I was extremely careful in letting him experience various tastes and flavors early in his life. I do not think my case is typical, but I also do believe it is in the French tradition of food education. Long ago, in rural parts of France, tiny kids were treated with tiny bits of strong foods - garlic, stinky cheeses, etc. - and even a drop of wine in order to get them ready for the tastes of their adult life. Nobody ever died from that.

And it is, too. So bad that the thought of carrying it to any place other than the closest potted plant has never occurred to me yet. But little coffee places labeled Segafredo, with two or three aluminum tables on the sidewalk, serve decent coffee. Though I'm afraid they've recently been sort of wiped out by the Starbucks invasion.

I was there at their opening, in the presence of chef and owners, and before then I had no idea it was possible to eat that badly in Paris.

Oh, Spicy. That should explain why everybody stopped hearing about it after a while.

I wasn't trying to correct your French, Dave (except when I couldn't help it your spelling of "boulangerie" is the most creative I've ever seen!) I just thought it would be nice to add a few precisions on your already nicely composed list. Don't bother studying all night by candlelight, just stay the way you are. To her, rather. But to you as well!

In order to help Foodmuse acquire some of those delicacies, I'll propose a few translations. Ahem, boulangeries - rillet d'oie = rillettes d'oie (reeyet dwah) - pate de fois gras = just say foie gras (fwah grah) - garlic sausage, smoked = saucisson à l'ail fumé (smoked) ou non fumé (unsmoked). Unsmoked is really nice, and garlickier (as you'll be reminded all day long). - cherry tomatoes (probably still just available in early October) = tomates cerises - radishes = radis roses - clelery ( you can buy it by the individual stalk, no need to buy a whole head) = céleri branche - celeris raves = do you really take these on a picnic? - julliened carrots vinagrette = carottes râpées (carrot rahpey) - potato salad = often labeled "salade piémontaise" at charcuteries - an epi (small loaf which I prefer to a baguette for picnicing.) = "épi" imitates the shape of an ear of wheat. It is not available everywhere but it is indeed the best choice for picnics. If you can't find it, you should rather pick a few ficelles (thin baguette) than a baguette. - My favorite happens to be the little lemon tarts. = tartes au citron. When they're good, they're really good. - Red wine. Lots of nice inexpensive Corbieres out there or try a good Buzet (usually better than a cheap bordeaux) = always better than a cheap bordeaux.

Not particularly wishing to send you to overpriced fancy places like Le (Pas) Bon Marché and Lafayette Gourmet (but if it's OK to splurge, the choice of foods is very interesting), I'll recommend any Monoprix or even Champion, they have perfectly decent picnic material. Camembert of the generic "Reflets de France" brand at Champion is the best I've had in ages. Parc André-Citroën in the 15e is one of the few intra-muros where they'll let you sit on the grass. In some small neighborhood parks there is often a "pedestrian" grass spot where people can sit or lie down (for instance at the Carreau du Temple, near République). No sitting on the grass at Jardin des Plantes or Luxembourg Gardens (I haven't looked everywhere so someone could prove me wrong). Large beautiful grass lawn on the esplanade des Invalides, between the hospital/church and the Seine. I think you can sit on the grass in some parts of Parc Montsouris and Buttes-Chaumont. Otherwise it's a good idea to get out of Paris and try the beautiful parks of Saint-Cloud or Sceaux, the perfect picnic spots. Also: parc de La Villette, parc de La Courneuve. Supermarkets do sell wine and even champagne (but rarely chilled). There is at least one Nicolas (an old chain of wine stores) in every neighborhood. They do have chilled wines and champagnes. Head for the local boulangeries for baguette, don't bother with supermarkets for that, even luxury ones. Buy fruit from markets.

Oh, so that was you!!!!

About ten years ago, there was a concept restaurant in Paris called "L'Appart'", I don't know if it's still going on. I'd suspect not. They served food every day, but in a real Parisian haussmannian apartment, so the place was a succession of salons. That made up for a special atmosphere. Never been there, never heard much about the food, don't think it sprouted branches. Sonia's concept will be sensibly different. She will serve her delicious food once a week in intimate surroundings. I bet there's going to be quite a waiting list.

As a designer you should definitely take a look at Liza, a modern Lebanese restaurant on rue de la Banque (close to the Bourse). The food is nice (great desserts), though much overpriced, but the interior design is beautiful. I'm also a sucker for the inside rooms and salons of the Café Marly, at the Louvre, in spite of my general defiance of Costes places. This one is really well done. I'll also advise you to have a drink at the Chao Ba café, on place Pigalle, at daytime. A very peculiar, but remarkable, mixture of nice design with a bit of sloppiness that you can't really identify as intentional or not. Every time I go there I'm not sure what period I live in. I'll keep you posted if anything else comes to my mind.