Druckenbrodt

John it's funny hearing rue du Poteau is your 'local'; I came across it the other night on a run where I was following my nose and it looked like such a fun street that I made a mental note to memorise the name. That was exactly the street I had in mind when I mentioned I thought there might be interesting stuff round the back of Montmartre. I also thought it had some rather promising slightly tatty looking bars (I mean that in an entirely positive way.) Am very tempted to explore it again after your description! Mmm, Ptipois, can I come shopping with you next time you're in the neighborhood?! Sounds like you know exactly what to look out for!!! What are rasgullas? and what is/are frozen ndole? I think the working class neighborhood thing can often be true in France and also in Italy. But not in the UK... ha ha! Unless you like deep fried mars bars a la Glaswegiana. I had the great fortune to live in Venice for an autumn term in my final year at university. I lived in a flat on the Giudecca island which people at the time said was one of the few remaining working class areas in Venice (may have all changed now). There was a wonderful, very simple, market behind that weird old 19th century flour mill which dominates the horizon at one end. Cheap shoe stalls and awful jeans stalls next to a van grilling chickens sort of scene. Maybe it was the smell of autumn in the air. Maybe it was because I was younger and much more impressionable than I am now. But all those buckets of water filled with artichoke hearts! I'd never seen anything like it! And all those vegetables I'd never eaten before! My brother who is an excellent cook and learnt (almost) everything he knows off a Roman friend and his grandmother, came to visit. I suddenly learnt there were all these incredible flavours out there that I'd never come across before. The fact was it was all 'normal stuff' to the locals, and cheap, and I don't think you could have got any of it in the sterile supermarket where all my fellow students went. My brother also had an unerring hunch for spotting a run down bar which as a 20 year old girl I would never have dreamed of entering on my own, but which would have perhaps one or two types of prosecco on offer and other locally grown wines, and a few home-made antipasti - delicious. And not an ugly twisty bit of murano glass in sight. It was like finding the other, living side of Venice I'd constantly been looking for. With all its traditions and history still there to a certain extent in the food and the wine. I think those no nonsense neighborhoods have a lot going for them for the simple enthusiast. Long may they live! The moral question is, should we or shouldn't we be posting about them? Should we keep them under our hats or share our knowledge and run the risk that, in the constant hunt for novelty and stories, some newspaper will start writing about our favourite 'secret' places? Perhaps what will save the working class neighborhood from that fate is the fact that it isn't quite special enough to warrant a long distance pilgrimmage - part of the point is that it has to be 'your local'. And those that do make the trip are also more likely to be genuine food enthusiasts who will add to the custom of those specialist shops, which is surely a good thing, (if those specialist shops don't get funny ideas about 'modernising' or putting up their prices.) And maybe those neighborhoods also need to always remain slightly seedy to discourage Starbuckification.

The nearest metro is Strasbourg St Denis on the number 9 line. It's North of the arch. It's refreshingly unpretentious, and a bit rough and ready, one of the many reasons why I like it. I'm sure there are lots of other similar, more working class neighborhoods in Paris. Particularly round the back of Montmartre I could imagine.

Dear Keith Talent I think you have raised some good questions that I would also like answers to. And now you've started me thinking about the possibilities of hotel blankets, unfortunately I shall be forever cursed with niggling questions in future whenever I stay in hotels. Although I'm not one to talk on the subject of hygiene, being known to occasionally eat things I have dropped on the floor. Which probably explains my iron constitution. (I have not, yet, however, rescued ice-cream that has fallen on the pavement.) Anyway back to the subject. Maybe you should have posted this in the baking section? I think it's generally accepted that there's been a gradual decline in baking standards in France for a long time. A lot of stuff doesn't even get made in-house anymore so I think you're absolutely right to question why a lot of stuff tastes the same. I'm not trying to suggest some sinister conspiracy theory where all those cute village bakeries secretly get pre prepared dough delivered to them at 4am from a central factory owned by evil capitalists. Or perhaps I am. I do suspect the frozen dough business is much more widely spread than most people realise. Also the post war fashion for white bread lead to sloppy baking practise since it was much easier (and more economic) to get away with allowing shorter times for your dough to prove than with all those lovely old traditional varieties of heavier brown bread. The problem with whacking bread in the oven that's only had an hour rather than, say, three or four, to prove, is that it doesn't taste as good, doesn't have the same elasticity or texture and it goes stale before you can even say 'pain de campagne'. Personally I think it's very hard to work out who's making the good stuff and who isn't, even when you can see the bakers at work. And even bakeries where they bake their own bread often get the dough for their croissants etc delivered. It's partly because making patisserie requires additional space at the back of the shop, so it's more economic if all you have to do is buy it in and stick it in the oven. Of course that doesn't necessarily always mean it has to be bad quality either. Just a bit disappointing. There are about five bakeries near me, all on the same street, all within twenty yards of eachother, none of which are particularly remarkable, but none of which lacks a steady stream of customers either. So I'm not sure if the queue theory always works either. I think the French simply eat a lot of bread. If you do find a really great bakery, you have to tell all your friends about it and be sure to go there regularly. (If you live in France that is!) My favourite bakery in Paris so far is on the rue Yves Toudic in Republique. Actually there are two good bakeries at opposite ends of the same street. My favourite is the fancy one (with a charming baker who comes and chats to his customers). They also make sublime lemon tarts. Although the more regular one is less expensive and also tastes very good. The best croissant I've eaten in Paris came from Laduree.

To be honest, I think the rue Montorgeuil is a bit overrated. I know that sounds terribly spoilt coming from someone who is lucky enough to live round the corner. But it all feels a bit selfconsciously pretty - with a lot of very second rate cafes. There are lots of other great foodie streets in Paris. My real number one favourite - which I normally keep under my hat - is the rue du Faubourg St Denis. It's not pretty at all which is probably partly why I like it so much. It's a funny sort of mixed ethnic neighborhood with about five Turkish run (I believe) green grocers. You can have endless fun working out the best offers going backwards and forwards along the street. Lots of Halal butchers selling Turkish bread, yoghurt and halva, with stalls outside selling a huge variety of honey drenched sweet meats. Afrocaribbean wig shops and hairdressers. A nice little fishmonger and a great Italian delicatessen with fresh home-made pasta. Further up the street is my all time favourite cheese and wine shop. The lovely chap in charge of the wine looks about 25 and is so enthusiastic and knowledgeable. He's always got something new on the go which he gets his devoted customers to taste, and I inevitably end up buying a couple of bottles. Whenever I've asked him for recommendations he's always spot on. Then there's the passage Brady or whatever it's called which is full of (not particularly good) Indian restaurants (allthough there is an Indian grocer there too which sells home-made mango pickle and delicious home-made samosas, and which is great for stocking up on spices.) I forgot the Chinese grocer with its fresh home-made tofu and which always has good quality Chinese greens on offer. I also forgot the Turkish grocer which seems to be permanently open, even at midnight, and which sells slabs of honeycomb about a foot long, and where they make tour de France jokes if I turn up on my bike. All this takes place behind the splendidly pompous Arch of the Porte St Denis (I think it's called), floodlit at night for further festive effect, on the other side of which is the rue St Denis with its bizarre mixture of sweatshop garment district and ladies of the night (and day, even.) The French shops and the ethnic shops somehow complement eachother perfectly. You see immaculate little old French dames buying their two carrots and stick of celery standing in the same queue as a North African guy buying a pot of harissa paste. It feels like a street that belongs to a real living neighborhood. Rue Montorgeuil I think is in danger of suffering from bland trendiness.

Hmm, would be interesting to know how your friend fared! Since there are only three greengrocers (actually technically I think only two) on the rue Montorgeuil, the probability is pretty high they came from the same shop... called the Palais de Fruit which in most other respects I adore. They always have lots of fruit and veg on special offer on stalls at the front of the shop. A system I rather like. But from previous experience in Paris, more so perhaps than elsewhere, special offer stuff really has to be consumed in less than twelve hours following purchase! And in the case of chanterelles, clearly has other disadvantages.

Thank you everyone for the really informative replies - he really sounds amazing. I can't believe no-one's heard of him in the UK. (Or perhaps they have.) I guess if he hasn't worked with British chefs... And I suppose we're new to the food science thing. I find this all really fascinating. No doubt am the last person on the planet to hear about it...

Thank you for the advice Bleu and Ptipois - I knew you'd have sound words of wisdom. I think those chanterelles were both a bit on the old and damp side. And quite dirty. So they weren't greatly helped by my rinsing them for good measure... This probably explains why they tasted of water and nothing much else. I just assumed if you reduced the juices all would be rectified though? They were were also remarkably cheap, all things that anyone but an idiot like me should have taken as very clear warning signs. Next time I shall not be seduced by a crazy low price and will inspect more thoroughly... Bleu next time I shall just do them with butter as you recommend. Am determined not to give up on them. You hardly ever see them in the UK so it would be a shame not to make the most of them while in France.

"In the early 1970's I was in Verona (Italy) with a friend who was a native of Milan. Neither of us had ever been to Verona, although he had the advantage of being fluent in Italian. When it came time for our first meal in the city, we were strolling around. He detoured because of a chubby postman he saw down the street, and went over and asked him for a restaurant recommendation. They had a short discussion, and my friend got directions to a nearby place where we had a simple but fantastic meal. "You see" said my Milanese friend, "the secret is to find an overweight public servant, and ask them to suggest a place. You want somebody overweight - that means that they like to eat. And you want somebody like a public servant, because that means that they aren't rich and will have found places with great food and great value!"" Markk that is such a fantastic post! Trust an Italian to have such a funny, simple and inspired solution! And thank you for sharing that brilliant piece of wisdom.

I bought some chanterelles on special offer from my local greengrocer on rue Montorgeuil. I have to say I was a bit disappointed and am wondering am I missing the point? Did I prepare them wrong? Was I buying them too late in the season? Is there some trick I'm missing? I fried them in shallots and butter. Let all those excess juices reduce. Nothing much was happening flavourwise so I added a bit of garlic. Still nothing happening. Chucked in some fresh parsely. added a little more salt and pepper. Still nothing. Then lobbed in a little bit of sherry and as a final last resort stirred in some turkish yoghurt I had in the fridge. Oh and I put in some mustard at some point too. The final result was OK but a bit overworked - the chanterelles were just a prop for the other flavours really. Thing is I'm a real believer in letting ingredients speak for themselves and meddling as little as possible, so I was a bit dissapointed that it came to all that. Where did I go wrong? I'm new to Chanterelles and somehow I'd imagined they'd have a glorious individual flavour that needed minimal fussing. Also any suggestions on how to clean up Chanterelles with out spending hours picking out bits of moss and pine needles?

Someone the other day was telling me about a 'culinary scientist' called Herve Thys. Apparently Pierre Herme used to consult him for a while (but not anymore) plus other patissiers and chefs. He sounds really fascinating. I tried googling him but didn't come up with much. Any of you France based chef types know more of him? He's in the Heston Blumenthal mode (but pre HB I gather) of researching the scientific basis of why some things work and others don't, as well as coming up with brilliant new ideas e.g. recommends to patissiers ways of preparing mille feuilles so they don't go soggy etc. Are there other food scientists in France? Is this a big thing over here?

Hello again Pierre Herme just opened a new shop in the 15th arrondissement and I went to the opening the other night. 185 rue Vaugirard. It's very pink inside. I took some pictures with my digital camera but being a technical hick haven't quite worked out how to down load on computer or attach to postings here. However as soon as I do will post some pics. The PR is sending me a press pack so if I glean any extra info of interest will also post that. I did ask the PR whether they ever had any intentions of opening a tea room but it sounded like it would be too expensive an experiment for them for the time being. Shame, since I think that way they would really cement their status as contenders to Laduree. Laduree has the Holder Group behind it (a family company which owns the Paul bakery chain) so therefore has more money to open stores/tea rooms. Anyway, the opening was full of Parisians dressed in black trying to be trendy and not really talking to eachother. All the macarons were in perspex boxes behind the counter. I figured what's the point in attending the opening of the shop of a master of macarons without sampling the fabled macarons? So I asked one of the many staff who were hanging about not doing very much whether this might be possible. He had to disappear behind the door covered with a giant portrait of a very menacing looking Mr Herme for permission. A few moments later he re-emerged granting my request. Which one would I like to try? I went for the Macha green tea one. An eleborate process of opening the perspex macaron box ensued. Actually a bit disappointing and not memorable at all - sort of just tasted of sugar. Other flavours of his can be brilliant. Anyway my small act of rebellion in the face of conformity created something of a revolution. All of a sudden everyone was asking to try the macarons. I think they'd been waiting all evening for someone to pluck up the nerve... (Why do I always feel like the annoying pupil in class who is the first to ask the obvious question that no-one dares ask but everyone wants to know the answer to? Perhaps that's a question for another forum.)

Oh wow! That Alpe d'Huez cake sounds fantastic! Do you have any pictures? What was inside it? How did you shape it? Did the cake contents resembe the rock of the Alpe? (in terms of looks, not texture...) Marco-Polo - am so impressed you did Paris-Brest-Paris! Am thinking about doing it myself next time they run it. But it will require two years of psyching myself up for it. Were those Paris Brest cakes invented in honour of the race then? Ah, just found the answer in my Larousse - they were indeed invented in 1891 by a pastry cook on the suburbs of Paris whose shop was on the route of the race. Apparently there is also a version called Paris-Nice without almonds and filled with Saint-Honore cream. Is there a Paris - Nice race still?

What is an Alpe d'Huez cake? Was this your own invention? What did it look like? It sounds spectacular!

That sounds like a really fun menu. I hope it was a grand success. Actually it also reminds me of the Asterix & Obelix 'Tour de France'. Not sure if you ever read that stuff... but they have to go round France and bring back all the different regional food specialities. Can't remember why though... allthough of course they always end each story with a magnificent banquet - so perhaps that was the reason... I wonder whether it's worth starting an Asterix & Obelix thread...? I've always loved the graphics and they always made wild boar look really delicious! In the light of the recent Tyler Hamilton blood doping scandal, perhaps 'blutwurst' might also have been appropriate. Or black pudding. I wonder whether there is a French equivalent?

The thing about France is this (am borrowing this acute observation from my boyfriend): whereas some cultures and economies are geared towards the consumer, France's is geared towards the producer. So if you are a consumer in France, don't expect to get things as and when and how you want them. And if you are a producer in France, you can expect a generous holiday allowance and the option to say 'no' to any customer request that is too tiresome to fulfil. Once you understand this, life is a lot less frustrating, and you realise not to take things personally if a waiter is a bit slack. It also means that if you work in France, you'll have more spare time to sit in cafes being ignored by the waiters.

Thank you! Will bear that in mind.

I'm definitely interested in visiting this. Can any experienced regulars recommend what days/times it's quieter?

"The idea of land as the most important thing is not new: it is the founding principle of Biodynamic farming (and I guess organic too). There was an article by Amanda Hesser in the NYT a year back or so about a sheep farm in New England with the same sorts of ideas." Isn't this the same thing with the idea of 'terroir' with wine? I know the terroir thing also gets very specific with the weather or the microclimate of a particular hill slope etc but it's also the soil - have you ever tasted wine made from grapes grown on volcanic soil? Also the soil has a lot to do with the reason why an Australian Riesling tastes totally different to one made in Alsace. So in terms of feeding animals, how much do you think their flavour is influenced by the quality and content of what is grown on the land (e.g. lots of organic clover) and how much is influenced by the mineral content of the soil itself? On another note, does anyone pay much attention to this with dairy produce in the UK? I know that what the herd eats is considered to be of crucial importance in Italy with Parmesan and Mozzarella cheeses. Also does anyone remember that passage in Tess of the d'Urbervilles where the entire farm labour force spends a day on hands and knees combing a field trying to eliminate a particular weed that would ruin the taste of the milk?

Thank you for all the replies everyone. It sounds pretty much fifty fifty at the moment in terms of who is going to win this argument. Perhaps I am using the 'rare breed' term rather loosely. I suppose what I mean are all those old fashioned, perhaps less productive breeds which aren't really farmed that much commercially anymore. (I guess they are inevitably rare, though.) I think the whole heritage thing is interesting and I wish there were more incentives for farmers to protect a part of our agricultural heritage which is disappearing. My father grew up in a cider apple growing family in Dorset and talks fondly of old apple varieties with eccentric names that he ate in his childhood. I grew up in Shropshire and Cheshire, the first house had a huge (well it seemed like that to a child like me) old Victorian apple orchard at the back. Every now and then I will eat an apple that isn't one of the supermarket strains, and it's a vivid re-awakening to what apples are supposed to taste like. With meat, I'm so fed up with the stories about how animals get treated - and eating meat where you can't even taste what it is - that I'm not a long distance away from turning vegetarian. One shouldn't make assumptions, and if rare breed meat suddenly became deeply fashionable I'm sure there'd be a lot of cynical farming, but I would think at the moment that those farmers who already have an interest in rare breeds are also those who place a high priority on the animal's well being. I wish there were greater public awareness and interest in this. I think so many food trends come from chefs (and inevitably, their cook books) I wish there were more evidence of them taking a more 'public' interest in the story. But I suppose supply does pose a problem. Hmm, that's enough of a Thursday afternoon ramble...

OK, my friends are bored with me going on about this, but I think we're in the midst of a sea-change in attitudes to meat in the UK. It's not just about consumers wanting organic, traceable meat from animals that have led happy lives, but they're also getting into rare breeds and the superior flavour (and snob value) they provide. My friends say this is a load of 'bull' and I need ammunition to prove my point. I have just learnt that the chef at the Wapping Project in East London is committed to rare breed organic meat, and I was wondering whether anyone knew of examples of other chefs who do the same? I'd also like to know what other people's thoughts on the matter are.

Thank you so much for all the replies everyone! I'm so excited about our trip. So many weird and wonderful sounding dishes and ingredients that I'd never heard of or tasted. We have about ten days in Taiwan so that should give us plenty of time to explore all those mesmerising road side stalls and tea-houses in the mountains. I love the idea that the Chinese food in Taiwan represents recipes from the mainland frozen in time...

Gingerly - this is fantastic! Thank you! That's made me really hungry now and the gazpacho I made early is not going to suit my mood anymore.... am dreaming of street food...

My boyfriend has an exhibition in Taipei in August and it looks like the organisers might also pay for me to flight out too. Hurrah! We're planning to take our bikes and also do a bit of touring in the country for the ten or so days while we're there. SO - I have never been to Taiwan and have absolutely no idea what we should be looking out for. Any tips, advice, favourite eateries, favourite dishes, favourite markets - any information you felt like sharing would be immensely appreciated. Is there some amazing street food snack or weird national dish that we would be absolutely kicking ourselves over if we knew we'd missed it? My boyfriend is also vegetarian, so if you have any advice on things he should/shouldn't be looking out for that would also be very much appreciated. I'm a carnivore though and will eat pretty much anything... preferably dead though.

I was so panicked about being swept up by the broom wagon that I had difficulty even eating my breakfast. Admittedly it was at 5am which is not when I normally get up! The rest of the day was spent eating an evil mixture of bananas and jawbreaking powerbars. The sort of weirdo purely functional 'food' I suspect they give to astronaughts. They were truly disgusting but did the trick - I managed to do it fast enough to qualify for a silver medal - a mere four hours, forty-one minutes and thirty-one seconds behind Richard Virenque when he won the stage! (Hmm, would have been quite a challenge even for Ullrich to close that gap)

Actually, I've been noticing lots of chubby Parisian women (and yes, they are French - well, they sounded convincingly French when they were speaking). They still manage to dress with style, unlike in England where the assumption seems to be that if you go beyond a certain size, you might as well give up trying and only wear dish-cloth grey or black. Which is so sad and depressing. Having originally studied art history, I think I have a different attitude to beauty. Admittedly skinny women can look great - that's why we'd all like to be skinny - but rounder women can look fantastic too. Unfortunately there aren't enough role models to show how it can be done - only 'fashionist' retailers who assume anyone larger than a UK size 14 would rather wear a tent than be voluptuous goddess. Look at Lartigue's French Riviera photos from the 1930's. His subjects look fantastic. OK they're not 'fat' but neither are they what one would consider 'thin' these days. More importantly they look like they enjoyed life - and the Foie Gras - as well as dressing up with fancy hats & shoes. Much more attractive than looking miserably guilty for having eaten a macaroon. EAT the macaroon I say! (But maybe while walking round the block a couple of times if it's your tenth of the day...)