Ptipois

I will add to Felice's post that Racines is not a place for solo dining. It is a place for company and people go there at least by parties of two. There is a lot of social interaction going there and, frequently, from table to table, that is the soul of the place and the chef, however roughly he puts it, knows that. I would not consider dining solo there. However it might not be impossible to lunch solo (which I would equally find pointless), since booking for lunch is easier.

Sorry I'm coming so late to this topic. Here are my equivalences (at the risk of repeating what others have posted here. The French and Belgian terminology can be different so a little caution is necessary.) One thing to always bear in mind in France is that some stuff that you won't find in ordinary shops you might be able to locate in the health food store distribution network, i.e. "magasins bio". They are a much overlooked solution to some food mysteries. --Brown Sugar. Does not exist in mainstream shops: there is only sucre roux or cassonade, which are basically the same thing: crystallized light brown cane sugar. You will also find soft brown sugar (vergeoise) which is from beets, and according to the caramel coloring it has received can be light (vergeoise blonde) or dark (vergeoise brune). So where do you find brown sugar? As usual, in the magasins bio. Look for the diverse range of brown cane sugars available, you'll certainly find your stuff. Crystallized light brown sugar, soft light brown sugar... Soft dark brown cane sugar will be called "muscovado", granulated raw cane juice will be called "rapadura", and in some places you may find Demerara sugar. You'll certainly find Demerara sugar, muscovado and other unrefined sugar products at La Grande Epicerie or Lafayette Gourmet in Paris, or at an épicerie fine where you live. --Baking Powder. "Levure chimique" or "levure alsacienne" is baking powder and that is the only type you'll find. "Poudre à lever", which is the same thing, it a term only used in the professional milieu and you won't go far if you use that term in your local store. You can now find sodium bicarbonate (baking soda) in stores, previously you could only buy it from a pharmacy. In some pharmacies (not many) you'll find cream of tartar. A good place to find cream of tartar is the Indian and Srilankan shops in Paris, north of the gare du Nord, but this may be a little far from where you live. However in provincial cities there are large shops selling foreign and exotic products, generally gathering stuff of all origins for the immigrants of many nations that live there. You should find those shops and search carefully. They sell things that other shops don't. --Sweetened Condensed Milk Yes, lait concentré sucré. That one is easy. Cream Cheese By all means, don't buy Neuchâtel, which in France is a totally different thing than in the US. Neuchâtel is a traditional Norman cheese that has a white soft crust like camembert and is very salty. The equivalents of cream cheese are, as has been posted above, Saint-Môret (which is a bit too sour), Philadelphia (when you can find it), Samos 99 (excellent quality), and Kiri, which is what professionals use when they can't find Philadelphia. You could also use fresh Brillat-Savarin. Cherry pie filling Take the opportunity to make your own: stone your cherries, drain them in a colander for about 20 minutes, then quickly mix them with sugar and a little flour, cornstarch or even cream of wheat (semoule de blé fine) before adding them to the pie. Do not forget a little salt on the cherries. That will be far better than anything canned.

I think part of the interview is missing, precisely the end of the sentence: "And we're too happy to hand them the rope with the knot already tied on." Sloppy journalism... (Besides, it is just me or is the photo at the head of the article really kind of creepy?)

Paul Bocuse just puts his name on the stuff as you certainly imagine, and has very little to do with the actual design or making. But he endorses it with good reason. The Paul Bocuse cocottes (cast-iron dutch ovens) are made by Nomar, a small brand from Saint-Etienne (near Lyon) that was bought by Staub in 1988. So technically they are not Staub (actually I think they are a little more user-friendly than Staub) though they belong to them. The quality is high (which explains why Staub bought them) and the price is low. So I'll say, go for them. They're so cheap because they are made by a small company. Le Creuset pans are very, very overpriced anyway. Staub is expensive too but you do get your money's worth. I used some of the Bocuse cocottes while teaching at the Pourcel's cooking school some years ago (the school is where they use up all the cookware their chef friends give them) and I have found them to be very well made. I love the one with the wooden knob inserted into the iron handle. Excellent for cuisson à l'étouffée, Iranian rice and byrianis for instance. Makes superior tajines and daubes.

All valid factors, plus the fact that many people in the office order their food for lunch (so pizza, salads, couscous, sandwiches, etc.). La Défense is not a place where good food should be expected because it is devoted to work and lives only at daytime, which means there will be no particular care about food. France hasn't been a good place for cheap, good food for working people for a few generations. It is no longer like Asia or other parts of the world where decent cheap meals can be bought from the street. Workers' restaurants, bouchons, bouillons, troquets and historical bistrots (not modern bistrots) have had their time long ago, now only places like Chartier remain and they're reviewed in Gourmet Magazine.

One good (?) side aspect to that crisis is that now the situation is more or less even; you get charged equivalent prices for bad/mediocre food or for good food. The tricky part lies in the selection. Selecting restaurants through their quality/price ratio has become a highly difficult sport. You can lament on the fact that bad food is now as expensive as good food or realize that, after all, good food isn't comparatively that expensive. It's a case of glass half-empty/half-full. (This was my "sour grapes" five minutes of the day.)

I was referring to Lafayette Gourmet on boulevard Haussmann.

Any supermarket; in the mustards and condiments section.

From what you described it really sounded like Lafayette Gourmet The various food bars are fun there. The Italian place is nothing to write home about. The Bellota-Bellota bar is really nice (and the main of pata negra ham, olive oil purée, low-temp. soft-cooked egg and tomato-garlic relish truly one of the best treats to have in Paris anytime).

Savora is a special mustard-based condiment created by Amora in 1899. It is rarely called a mustard because it does have a taste of its own. It contains honey, malt vinegar, garlic, celery and spices (turmeric, cinnamon, nutmeg, cayenne, cloves, tarragon). It can be served as a condiment like mustard, or rather like a chutney or relish. It is also a cooking ingredient and is lovely in marinades (for grilled meats). It can be added to sauces and vinaigrettes. I find that quite a few chefs like it and use it in many different ways. Just eat a small spoonful of it and I'm sure you'll find out how to use it...

None that I know of. As long as the dish involves hare, red wine, thickening with blood and lengthy cooking, The price should be more or less in the same range whether it is civet or lièvre à la royale. The difference, lying in the presentation, is not essential. The foie gras and truffles, when used, should make the price difference. Besides, civet de lièvre is harder to find in a restaurant than lièvre à la royale.

Civet de lièvre is supposed to be thickened with blood too, after being cooked in red wine, but the hare is cut in pieces, is not deboned, and the cooking is not so long. What makes lièvre en cabessal/à la royale specific is the deboning of the hare, the foie gras stuffing, the cooking of the hare in one piece and for a very long time. Foie gras-truffle stuffing is mandatory for lièvre en cabessal and I have never been served a lièvre à la royale without it, though it is absent from some recipes. As Julot says, no truffles or foie gras are added in a civet.

The meals I'd enjoyed were very much about ingredients taken in the season, with emphasis upon the specific locale, and about the proper matching of flavours to bring out the natural highlights in a meal. As kaiseki is the meal, and not the technique, then I think we're in agreement. Likewise, would this also encompass the term of "regionality" that I see in Western Canadian restaurants, where they try to source their ingredients as locally as possible (Sooke Harbour House being an example?) ← Well the emphasis upon the specific locale certainly bears some resemblance to the notion of terroir, but I am increasingly of the mind that it is a little vain to seek equivalents of "terroir" in other cuisines as terroir is definitely not a style of cooking, and by the way is not restricted to food (it can also be experienced through wine, music, all aspects of populart arts and agriculture). Choosing your ingredients in season and locally is one thing (and a minimal requirement when you want to eat decently), terroir is quite another thing.

Never having been to a top-end kaiseki, and not knowing precisely what should be expected there, I cannot answer on that point. Terroir is a combination of geographical, physical and cultural qualities that can be found in products. La Peche's description is quite accurate. However if your question relates to the unique organoleptic qualities as well as to the definite cultural, even historical dimension that could be expected from the products and dishes served at a top-end kaiseki meal, the idea of terroir could perhaps be relevant, but terroir is not a style of cooking.

All very good points. IMO, molecular/postmodern (which is, truly, a new style) has not taken over nouvelle cuisine in the mainstream and is not likely to do so because of intrinsic, structural reasons. It is a set of (highly interesting) mannerisms but ultimately not a way to feed mankind, while Nouvelle Cuisine imposed itself as a different way of preparing, serving and plating meals, with simple principles that could be and have been widely adopted. Forty years after the 'revolution' we have nouvelle cuisine plating at French provincial supermarket cafeterias and some food bloggers (no names, no URLs, just using examples) posting pictures of terrible-looking dishes on large white plates without forgetting to top them with a couple of crossed chive blades. And I am not mentioning mint leaves on desserts and stacking anything on top of everything. Some postmodern techniques and ingredients will no doubt and already are integrated into mainstream cooking but so far — and, I believe, for some time to come —, the common style of preparing and plating food will remain a direct heritage from Nouvelle Cuisine.

Characteristic but not overwhelming, that should be huile d'olive de Nyons, with its slight buttery taste, mild and herby but not too green, with none of that unpleasant raw artichoke taste that seems to be the trend. I also like Greek and Turkish olive oils as good all-purpose olive oils. They are never overpowering. As a supermarket olive oil, Puget is fine.

Oh, I do agree that it has evolved. It would be a shame if it hadn't, about four decades later. My point is only: are we still in it or no longer in it? It is merely a point of history, language and looking at things on a large scale: if we had left the Nouvelle Cuisine era at some point, we'd be in another era, with a different name and definition, based on entirely different principles. I do not see those principles, there was no revolution, albeit a soft one, and whatever evolutions and variation were certainly an enrichment but were never important enough to bring on a new era in cuisine. Which is why I wrote that we are still in the Nouvelle Cuisine period. If I can think of a new and important element, it is the growing popularity of "green" cooking, organic food, emphasis on produce, vegetable gardens, eco-consciousness, etc. — quite a big thing, and one I do welcome with gratitude, but nothing that questions the persistence of Nouvelle Cuisine as an international style.

We never left Nouvelle Cuisine. We're still fully in the middle of it and it has ceased being Nouvelle for quite a while. There has not been any significant change of direction or innovation on that global style of cooking/plating since it appeared in the 1970s. Lightened, reduced sauces, emphasis on the plating, anglaise-boiled vegetables (not steamed) and borrowing from non-European techniques, these are the principles we still live under. Now there are of course variations and changes of mood over the years, but thay have not changed the situation. Basically we're still in the Nouvelle Cuisine era. I don't even see what leads some to believe we got out of it. If we did, what is the new style and what defines it? It would have to be noticeably different from the features of Nouvelle Cuisine to be of any significance. Unless someday the trend of cream-and-flour-thickened sauces and communal dishes brought on the table instead of individual plating makes a durable comeback, or someone comes up with something even more different, modern cuisine will still be defined by that style.

There is a distinction to be made between "bar à vins" and "bistrot à vins". The former serves wine by the glass and, if one wishes tartines, cheese and charcuterie, and sometimes hot dishes at mealtimes. Le Rubis is a good example. The latter, the bistrot à vins, is more in the Les Papilles style, actually a restaurant-bistrot with a good emphasis on wines but no possibility to order only a glass of wine at the counter. Le Pré Verre and La Muse Vin are also bistrots à vins. About Cavestève, which has two locations (one also on rue de la Cerisaie near Bastille), it is interesting to note that the new manager is Jérôme Moreau, excellent ex-sommelier at Le Bristol and Senderens. He left Le Bristol in July and just took his new job. He intends to develop the bistrot dimension of the place though the kitchen is a bit too small to serve "proper" food. At any rate the wine selection and advice will be top quality.

Well, couscous is GOOD. When you can have it with very fluffy-white grain, it can be heavenly. The key is proper steaming and adding plenty of butter. This is how it is served at L'Atlas and in the now defunct La Mitidja (rue Lacépède), formerly the best cheap couscous in Paris. Now I can only designate the ex-second best, which has become first best (Chez Hamadi, rue Boutebrie, 5e arrondissement). But at Chez Hamadi couscous is of a different style (Tunisian), not at all served the fluffy-white way but rather the dry-red way (the grain is saturated with the top fat from the broth). It is also very good that way. Be warned that Chez Hamadi is not at all an elegant place.

Kitfo is easy to find on the menu of nearly any Ethiopian restaurant in Paris. The only Ethiopian restaurant I can find in the 15th is Habesha, though they do not particularly have a bright and modern decor. 19, rue Copreaux, métro Volontaires. Téléphone : 01 43 06 09 42. Small place, reservation recommended. Arguably the best Ethiopian restaurant in Paris is Menelik, 4 rue Sauffroy, 17eme - Métro Brochant. 01 46 27 00 82. Do not miss the green coffee ceremony on Friday and Saturday night. Also: Entoto 143-145, rue Léon-Maurice Nordmann 75013 Paris, Métro. Glacière. 01 45 87 08 51 Ras Mesfin, 13, rue Léon Frot 75011 PARIS. 01 40 09 26 40. Ras Mesfin does serve kitfo, the Ethiopian tartare, as mentioned on their website. Godjo, 8, Rue de l'Ecole-Polytechnique 75005 Paris but I would recommend this one the least of the five, having been sick once after going there.

Yes there is take-out couscous in Paris but it is more frequently bought or ordered on the phone from take-out counters. It really takes sitting down to enjoy a couscous so if you don't do it at home I recommend tasting it at a restaurant. Being somewhat messy, it is definitely not hotel room food because you have to do your own thing with meat, vegetables, couscous and broth, each item being brougt in a separate container. I'm not even sure the hotel management would let you order couscous in your room. My favorite couscous joints are holes-in-the-wall, but you can have decent Fassi (Fes) moroccan couscous at L'Atlas, in the lower numbers of bd Saint-Germain, close to the Institut du monde arabe. That is the one I'd recommend. Le 404 in le Marais is good as I remember it, but I have to check again.

Capon is, to simplify the matter, a very big chicken. So you should roast it like a big chicken, taking account of the larger mass and thus reducing the oven temperature as for a slow roasting. Do as you would for a Thanksgiving turkey of the same weight, only remember that capon is fattier and that the meat is more delicate. Here is a recipe: preheat oven to 240°C. Rub capon with salt and pepper, and any herb you wish (a mixture of thyme and tarragon would be nice); cover it with good butter. Roast capon for 15 minutes to brown it slightly. Then put it on its back and lower the temperature to 180°C, and roast on a basis of 15 minutes per pound. If your bird is 3,5 kg, you should roast it for about 1 hour and 40 minutes, I would recommend 2 hours at a slightly lower temperature (170 °C), your capon should be more tender this way. The most important point is to baste the bird every 15 minutes with the rendered juices. And make sure you let it rest out of the oven for at least 30 minutes before carving, which will help settle the juices. Capon and chicken should not be eaten hot anyway. Another (Italian) way of preparing capon is poaching it in a vegetable stock. You might want to stuff it like a poule-au-pot and serve it with the vegetables and a herbed vinaigrette or any sauce you wish. In Italy that would be served with tortellini cooked in the broth and mostarda di cremona. Cooking time: same ratio, 15 minutes per pound. Let the bird rest in the stock for a few minutes before draining it and carving it. Whichever way you choose, I envy you.

Hi Robyn, couscous in its multi-faced Maghrebi incarnation refers to a complete dish containing fine-grained or medium-grained (slightly coarser) couscous cereal. In some regions cracked barley (belboula) or green wheat are used. Most of the time it is composed of a spiced broth of meat (mutton or lamb, chicken, sometimes beef), vegetables (anything you want, but mostly carrots, turnips, celery, zucchini and chickpeas), served with the steamed cereal. With local variations this is a dish of Tunisia, Algeria and Morocco. Large pearl-shaped pellets, which are called "baballes" in Algeria and Tunisia, are not technically couscous and do not lend themselves to the same type of dish. Couscous was made in France long before the colonial era since Rabelais (16th c.) mentions it ("coscoton à la mauresque"). It (kouss-kouss) was one of writer George Sand's specialties back in the mid-19th century. About terroir, I am not the Michelin and I only think terroir is a concept with a solid definition (for instance in winemaking), not a style of cooking.

Hey Julot, thanks for the homework!