Ptipois

French "trendy" chocolate tends to be too dry, bitter and abstract, headache-indulging. Hévin is an example of the tendency. We do have great chocolatiers but I count as such those who do not follow that trend, like La Maison du Chocolat or Michel Chaudun, or even chains like Cacao et Chocolat. I don't think Hévin is such a loss for a chocolate tour, and IMO French trendy chocolatiers are a bit overrated. Most of it is Valrhona, anyway, so much of it tastes the same. Swiss chocolate, on the other hand, tastes a bit too sweet to me. Vive le chocolat belge !

It is not easy, and (in my opinion) not necessary, to try to define "the" cassoulet. There isn't one canonical list of ingredients, but there are various schools, and many variants. It is not easy to tell what cassoulet is, but, as is often the case with traditional regional dishes, it is much easier to tell what it isn't. For instance chicken is a no-no in any case, but mutton has its place in one main family of cassoulet. One other family (Carcassonne) requires partridge. I think saucisse de couenne is actually part of one of the three "schools" of cassoulet. Couennes (pork rinds) should be present in any cassoulet anyway. They are actually the secret of cassoulet because they help achieve the syrupy texture of the broth. Le cassoulet du pauvre, poor peoples' cassoulet, used to be made with beans and salted pork rinds as the only meat. There is an example of this in Colette's "Gigi", when Gigi's grandmother (who has financial problems) invites Gaston to share their cassoulet, but she warns him that it's a poor people's cassoulet, "un cassoulet à la couenne". He instantly replies that he'll have a goose sent to her from his Southwestern estate.

That was not theory but pretty reliable guidelines for cassoulet, gathered in Ariège, Périgord, Languedoc and from some grannies and restaurateurs who, mind you, do not use beans from Argentina. I've never heard anyone from any region fight about those guidelines. Besides, if the Argentinian beans are of the large type that I find in some supermarkets, they are a pretty good substitute for soissons (but they have thicker skins). Likewise, Eastern Mediterranean large white beans (gigantes), which are another version of soissons, are perfect when they are young. Also, Lima beans or butter beans are nice, being closely related to soissons. And so on. It's not about using "the" perfect bean, it's about understanding beans and how they behave, wherever they come from. All this is fine as folklore and couleur locale go, as in the legend of the Eternally Simmering Cassoulet, but in reality I've never noticed those scholarly disagreements about the basic ingredients. There are three main "schools", and some variants, and they just coexist. As for one housewife = one recipe, that is simply how regional cooking goes, not just cassoulet. Ah, those damn gourmets, them again. However, it takes some of them — and by "gourmets" I mean housewives too — to help some things retain their shape and cassoulet remain cassoulet through the ages. If it were really a what-we-can-do-with-what-we've-got recipe, the recipe(s) would have been lost long ago, diluted in a sea of options. If you study cassoulet closely you'll find that the recipes vary but that there are some steady principles running through them. As is the case in any regional cooking. Bravo for the butter beans (which are close to Lima beans, hence to soissons) but sorry, if there's chicken in it, that cannot be called a cassoulet. Lima beans, though broad, are not "broad beans" (i.e. fava beans, quite different from the haricot). So let's be clear on this matter: were those beans of the butterbean type (large haricots) or of the fava type (fèves, broad beans)? Indeed the primitive cassoulet, dating back to gallo-roman times, was made with fava beans. But if you used butter beans, you tapped into more recent history. I'm sure it was delicious, but chicken in a cassoulet... Let's say that it was a new dish, cassoulet-style, the Whiting Cassole.

Nope. I wouldn't. Much easier: the word has been written a few dozen times on this board, including this thread. BTW: a cassolette is a small vessel that used to contain oil for lighting or ritual purposes. Recently the meaning has extended to a small china, glass or crockery cup that may be used for cooking food in an oven. Larger than a ramequin but smaller than a regular soufflé dish. There is no such thing as cassoulette in the French or Occitan language but you may have read the word "cassolette" somewhere.

I have, and they're a notable exception. I was speaking of the 99.9% of dried beans that are readily available and affordable for most people. ← You cannot make cassoulet with any type of white beans. You should fine-textured legumes with thin skin. In the Southwest, three main types are recommended, apart from the very local varieties that can't be found outside of the region: lingots de Vendée, lingots de Soissons, and tarbais. Avoid the cocos (Navy beans), which are all skin. Soissons are tops. The problem with tarbais is that, when they are too young, they melt to a cream and don't hold their shape. In this case, indeed, it is advisable not to soak them but briefly boil them before the actual cooking takes place.

First of all, if you're going to stay in Saint-Germain-en-Laye, the market there is probably the nicest in the West suburb. There's one on Sunday, I don't know about the other days. As for Caen, it's a surprisingly nice city for one that has been almost completely bombed in the '40s. There's still a city center with friendly restaurants and you should try the tripes à la mode de Caen. But my advice would be to head North towards the D-Day beaches, not for history but because it's one of the nicest coasts in France, with great seafood (try Arromanches and Port-en-Bessin). Also, the piece of Normandy that lies between Caen and the sea is enchanting (try to see Thaon, Creully, Fontaine-Henry, and the convent of Saint-Gabriel-Brécy where there is a horticulture school. You may visit the wonderful gardens). Courseulles has nice bakers and charcutiers including one who won a gazillion medals and silver cups for his tripe recipe.

The reason is certainly that, since Louis XIV and later the Jacobins, France is extremely centralized with Paris dominating as the capital city, and the system has been defined as a strong Paris-province opposition. So there's the Paris way and the provincial way, and "provincial" implies "regional" while Paris doesn't. Paris is apart, it's not a province, so its cooking doesn't have to be counted as part of the provincial tradition. Also, its dishes (as I've written earlier) have come, centuries ago, to represent not a regional style but the classical French répertoire of "cuisine bourgeoise" or "cuisine populaire". As you say, it doesn't need a name. It doesn't even need any characterization. It just exists, it's la cuisine.

But why does Dave call it "cassoulette"?

There is quite a treasure of Ile-de-France regional food. It is no less rich than the food of other regions. To add to what Marlena has already described, most dishes named after a historical celebrity of the Ancien Régime or any of the two Empires, etc., linked to the Versailles or Paris courts may be considered Parisian cooking: potage Dubarry, crème Pompadour, etc. Dishes "à la française" (like petits pois à la française) are also part of the Parisian heritage. Early restaurant and bistrot dishes like haricot de mouton, pied de cochon pané, gratin de chou-fleur, etc. One could, very roughly, discern a few main features of Parisian-Ile-de-France cooking this way: predominance of fresh vegetables and mushrooms, a moderate but regular use of cream (as compared to Normandy), boiled ham (still called "Jambon de Paris") used instead of bacon. As Marlena pointed out, preparation styles like Bercy (wine and beef marrow), Argenteuil (asparagus), Croissy or Crécy (carrots), Poissy (noyau liqueur), meldoise (whole grain mustard), versaillaise, Ile-de-France food is pretty easy to research and define. Parisian cooking is another matter. It is not easy to grasp as a concept and as a corpus, not that it doesn't exist, but its specialties have long been integrated into the répertoire of cuisine bourgeoise and the former cuisine de cour, which evolved into haute cuisine towards the end of the 19th century. It does exist, but it is not easily visible, though many of us (French) may graze on it everyday. In order to understand what "Parisian cooking" means, one should direct the research towards: 1) what people used to eat in Paris since the Middle Ages (some specialties like charcuterie and some pastries have been here for a long time), 2) what used to be cooked in the château kitchens of Ile de France (Versailles, Paris and elsewhere), 3) what was recuperated from the former in the kitchens of the restaurants, 4) and, later, what was recuperated from the popular Paris tradition by the bistrots of Paris, in the second half of the 19th century. The blanquettes de veau and gratins de chou-fleur that were consumed by the working classes in the "bouillons" and "crèmeries" of Paris in the late 19th century do represent this Parisian tradition, which they don't immediately evoke today because they're only associated to the répertoire of "classical French dishes".

There's also the Eternally Recycled Duck at the Nouveau Village Tao Tao, boulevard Vincent-Auriol. When you order Peking duck, they may serve you the skin from a recent duck, then proceed to concoct soup and stir-fries out of a less recent duck, I mean much less recent. I'm not sure how many days is the duck lag. Once when I asked about that, the waiter replied by singing a song that had nothing to do with ducks or anything food-related. Now that's an interesting and quite real culinary practice, much more picturesque than the nonexistent Perpetual Cassoulet (Clémence, obviously, was pulling old Anatole's leg, probably hoping to be written about and still commented decades away).

It's right next to Phó 14 and is easily confused with it. I haven't been there for years but the last time I was at Le Kok, it was pretty good.

There, you've found it! (Actually I'm the one who told Zurban about it.) This is the "best phó in Paris" I was mentioning earlier. Be sure to try the banh cuon (best in Paris too) and the bun cha ha noi.

I don't know my Rabelais by heart, far from it, but I never heard there was anything of the sort in his writings. Also, cassoulet was a recent invention in his days. I think that would be a very, very bad marketing idea for a restaurant.

"Violets", without pronouncing the t, if what you want is seafood and not small purple flowers.

What pot exactly? The one where cassoulet is simmered, or the one where it's baked? The fact that cassoulet is a baked dish (i.e. gratinéed) makes it impossible to add anything to it gradually, and no, a dish of cassoulet doesn't cook forever. The stew has to be simmered for a few hours but not too long (once the cooking liquid has become syrupy, it's time to turn off the heat), and the baking phase has a precise timing (once you have been able to "drown the crust" seven times, it's OK). Anyway the legend is a known one, based on urban contempt for country lifestyles, people and cuisine; it's also available in a "potée auvergnate" version and for other regional dishes. I thought it had died decades ago. It probably survives in remote countries. Light of dead stars and the like, you know.

Urban legend. Besides, there were no haricot beans or tomatoes in France 600 years ago.

Just for the record: it's Poujauran, with an a.

Cough cough Well I can at least confirm he doesn't own the old business anymore but his office is still next door, 18, rue Jean-Nicot. He still bakes and produces stuff, he's sort of a freelance boulanger and consultant now. And he still drives that antique green truck.

As the old French game goes, "cherchez l'intrus". Two of the women listed in the article are not chefs. Will you, dear reader, locate them?

Arguably.

Looking up a few recipes, it seems that there is more than one smen. Seems logical since, indeed, ghee never goes off, so the smen that goes rancid cannot be the same as ghee. I found a recipe which is more or less the same as for ghee. This one is said to be for cooking purposes only and mild-flavored. And another one (smen mellah) which is, plainly, heavily salted raw butter packed in a jar and left to age. This one is, I believe, the rancid kind used for flavoring purposes (couscous, meat dishes).

There is, but you seldom find it in Vietnamese restaurants outside of Vietnam. The fusion food of the ex-French colonies is very interesting to study.

Yogurt and milk products like ice cream, condensed milk, Vache qui Rit, etc., were brought by the French colons. Yogurt was entirely adopted in Vietnam once cows were acclimated in the Mekong delta or in the region of Da Lat. In Da Lat, it is produced artisanally, thick and creamy. In some restaurants, it is served at dessert in small jars, garnished with candied citrus peel, peanuts, cashews, etc.

Well, good question. We seem to have strayed into matters unrelated to the initial posts. Comparing "luxury" levels, etc., when all that was asked first was why French-style Japanese pastry, as some had noticed, was generally of such high quality compared to its equivalents in France. A case of disciples surpassing the masters, and so on. Which was pretty much my impression in Japan. Now if you do insist on making social levels relevant, fine. So let's focus on high-quality pastry, because as an example of what a country can do best, it is the most relevant choice regarding the discussion. And nothing can change the fact that high-quality French-style Japanese pastry compares favorably with its Franco-French equivalent. Just ask some French pâtissiers having opened pastry shops or chains in Japan and they will tell you how hard it is to keep up with the skills of local pâtissiers and the demands of the public.

Well made, cornes de gazelle are sheer heaven. They should be very fresh. At their best, they are light, fragrant and not very sweet. There are coated and uncoated versions, I always prefer the uncoated version. As often, the article is not quite accurate in describing the general situation. Maghrebi pastries are not a new thing in France. They've been part of the picture for many decades. What is fairly new, though, is the jump in quality: the appearing of top-quality maghrebi pastry shops in France, and clearly that's what had been missing, and the reason why La Bague de Kenza (not "Bague de Kenza", mind the author of the article) became so trendy. Before then, pastry shops proposed some rather coarse, oversweetened stuff. And bad quality Maghreby pastry can be (like any pastry) very bad indeed. Now there are good places to buy North African pastry: La Bague de Kenza is fine but still a bit cloying IMO; I think there are better places (one on rue du Faubourg-Saint-Antoine particularly). I prefer the Moroccan pastries at Le Petit Souk, in the upper part of rue de Patay (13e). The shop also has outstanding breads, brioches and m'semmer (buttered flatbread). Also, since quite a few Maghrebi bakers took over some boulangeries in the Northern and Eastern parts of Paris as well as in the North and West suburbs, it is always interesting to sample them and try, aside from their delicious breads (these guys will save the baguette!), whatever pastries they may propose. Nice surprises are in store. Finally, until places like La Bague de Kenza or the now defunct Elissa (top-notch Tunisian pastry on rue des Petits-Champs) appeared, Parisians were been more acquainted to Oriental-style pastry through the Lebanese restaurants and caterers (Noura being, IMO, the best). Their pastries are often smaller, more delicate, and cost a fortune. But they're delicious.