Mayur

Yes. cook it like calf's liver. If you have the French Laundry cookbook, I'd recommend Keller's "Liver and Onions" recipe. If not (or if you want something simpler), try this: 1) Buy the following ingredients if you can get them: -Star anise, cinnamon, cloves, bay leaf, garlic (separated into cloves), thyme sprigs, chopped fresh herbs (chervil and flat parsley are nice) -Apples, pears, or other seasonal firm fruit (roughly 1 apple or pear per 2 pieces of liver), quartered or cut into eighths (if using very large, firm fruit) -pearl or cipollini onions (4-5 per piece of liver), peeled and scored on the root end -bacon (slab is preferable, strips are fine too), 2 slices strip or 1 oz. slab per liver piece. If using slab bacon, remove the rind and chop it into 1 1/2-inch cubes (lardons). -Red wine -chicken stock (optional) 2) Segment liver into 6- to 8-ounce pieces ranging between 3/4" and 1" in thickness (this is actually the most essential part of the process). Clean and refrigerate. 3) Put star anise, cinnamon, cloves, bay leaf, some peppercorns, and thyme into a sachet. Place the fruit slices and sachet in a saucepan large enough to hold all the fruit in a single layer, add red wine to 1/2 the way up the fruit, and simmer until the fruit is soft. Transfer all the contents of the pan to a bowl or other container. (If you're doing this ahead, which you can, cover it tightly and refrigerate it, bringing it back up to room temperature when you're ready to cook the liver. It keeps for several days; you just have to make sure you don't eat all the apple slices as I sometimes do!) When ready to cook the liver: 4) Cook the bacon. If using strip bacon, you can either fry it (simple) or bake it at 375 F for 15 minutes. If using slab bacon, cut off the rind, chop it into lardons, and bake it at 375 F for 20 minutes, removing it to stir after 10 minutes. (Note that some stores sell lardons already cut; these are a GREAT shortcut.) In either case, drain the bacon. LEAVE the oven on at 375 F. 5) Cook the onions. Peel them and score the root ends. Heat butter in an ovenproof skillet until brown. Add the onions, 1-2 whole, peeled, crushed garlic cloves and a thyme sprig and saute them over medium-high heat for 2-3 minutes. Then add water (or chicken stock, if using) to half way up the sides of the onions and bung them in the oven. Turn them after 15 minutes and return to the oven. Cook for another 15 minutes or until tender. Remove from oven, but leave the oven on! 6) Cook the liver. Pat it dry, season with salt and pepper, and dredge in a little flour. Heat some oil (preferably grapeseed or canola, something with a high smoke point) in a large skillet over high heat. (If the skillet is large enough to hold all the liver without crowding, great. If not, cook it in batches. I'm sure you know this, but NEVER crowd the pan when you're sauteeing.) Turn the heat down to medium-high and add some butter. When the butter is brown, add the liver and saute for about 2 minutes, or until the pan side has developed a rich golden-brown crust. Turn it and saute for another minute or so, basting it with the butter and oil in the pan. Transfer the liver from the pan to a baking dish. 7) Finish the liver. Scatter a few thyme sprigs and whole garlic cloves over the liver (you can even poach the ones from the onions you cooked), arrange the cooked fruit around the liver, and place the pan in the oven for about 3 minutes. (This is for medium rare; if you're going by internal temperature, the center of the liver should be 125-130 F.) If there's room in the oven, you can also stick the onions and bacon back in to warm up. 8) Arrange the fruit on the center of each plate. Stir some chopped fresh herbs into the onions, and then arrange these around the fruit. Scatter the bacon among the onions (if using lardons) or place two strips on top of each grouping of fruit/onion. Place each piece of liver atop the fruit AFTER removing any herbs or garlic clinging to it. Scatter a little Maldon salt and more fresh herbs on top, if you like, and serve! Note that much of this is make-ahead; the fruit can be done days before, the onions and bacon hours before. Everything finishes in the oven at the same temperature and at the same time, so really, your a la minute preparation takes only about ten minutes.

Stupid question #umpteen: Do you sear your ribs before or after sous vide braising, Nathan?

Hmm; lotsa options! Given that I have this precise temperature control at my fingertips, I'll try for as low and slow as I can get... nathan: How do you do your short ribs? Any chance you could post a step-by-step? I'm curious as to how 55 C for 24 hours turns out; does this yield something with the texture of a good steak, then, or something with an actual braised meat mouth feel? Thanks in advance!

Thanks SO much! My fault as well, though; I should have deduced that the celsius was the right metric.As for cleaning the bath: The main reason for my selecting this particular unit was that it's new and thus hasn't been subjected to the potential nastiness of lab use. I've still cleaned it with some serious chemical solvents (I have lab worker friends of my own!) and it's sparkling at the moment. I'll let you know how the ribs went!

Wow; thanks for the prompt response! Hmm; the one for the shorter time is also for the lower temperature? Odd. These are in the Grand Livre, I take it? Any more details you might be able to share?

Gentle Gulleteers, I am currently inaugurating a water bath that has arrived at my apartment, courtesy of eBay. I've read the sous vide threads here with great interest, and have some idea of how to do simpler preparations using this technique (poached fish, confits,etc) from past experience. What I am intrigued by, however, is using sous vide to replicate the Daniel Boulud braised short rib method. I have some idea of the ingredients and techniques for the traditional preparation (brown meat, saute mirepoix, add red wine reduction and stock) and can guess that the way to work this with sous vide is to reduce the wine, combine with sauteed mirepoix and stock, freeze, and stick frozen stuff into vacuum bag with meat. However, I'm unsure of a few things: 1) Time and temperature. 36 hours at 141 F? 8 hours at 150 F? Something in between? 2) Sear meat before or after? 3) Adding herbs. How bad is the concentration effect from cooking sous vide, exactly? Is 1 thyme sprig per 24 oz. of meat too much? Any comments/insights would be VERY helpful. Thanks!

I actually quite like the Enfants-Rouge, myself, and its fancy-pants Marais location means that there are lots of different pretty ways to walk to and fro and a TON of places to sit, drop your bags, grab a coffee and people-watch. You also can easily walk to the rue de Buci market and back, if you've got two people willing to carry bags of groceries. A Casaluna is a lovely place to eat in the 1st; Chez Denise (not so cheap, but open late and mighty mighty tasty), Aux Lyonnais (also not so cheap, but again tasty) and Le Pamphlet are a short distance in the 2nd, 2nd, and 3rd, respectively. A Priori The, near the Bourse, is excellent for brunch and tea. Keep in mind that central Paris is tiny. If you're concerned about the price range of places near you (and I can understand if Le Meurice doesn't make sense as a nightly dining choice ), you really can walk (or metro if you're feeling lazy) to the 10th or 11th for several excellent bargains, or down to La Butte-aux-Cailles, etc. for others.

Sort of a non sequitur, but... It continues to amaze me how many friends of mine who enjoy horrendously stinky cheeses, preserved eggs, strange cuts of meat, et cetera find asafoetida's odor offensive. Mineral tang, yes. Acrid, yes. But as rotten or, er, fetid-smelling as a Morbier or Chabicou? Please.

Er, maybe. The food at Chinese Mirch (27th & Lexington in NY, NY, IIRC) is pretty representative, but some other stuff, like some of the dishes they used to put out at the brunch buffet at Jackson Diner in Queens, NY) is not. No; those happen to be bad habits shared by Indian Chinese and American Chinese food, actually.

Though I'd move this just to get your attention Can I partially roast the potatoes today and finish tomorrow to save time? ← Don't roast them, in that case; blanch them. Heavily salted water at rolling boil, cube potatoes, throw 'em in, cook for 10-15 minutes (or until just tender), remove, shock in ice water, and refrigerate. That way, roasting time on the day will be minimal.

What carswell said, though confit breasts actually are quite tasty. Still, it's not worth confiting the whole thing unless you have a moulard (sufficient layer of fat) that you are willing to marinate, vacuum seal, and confit sous vide. So, did the confit as recommended by Culinary Bear today. My only suggested amendment: If you can go lower temperature, do so. I did moulard legs and wings at 185-210 degrees F (my home oven won't sit at a temperature more precise than this range) and I got extreme confit doneness after 8 hours; I would have been happier with a cooking temperature 10 degrees lower. It may well be the difference between muscovy/barbary and moulard/pekin. If using the latter, my personal 2 cents are to work at 190 degrees. Coincidentally, Thomas Keller's Bouchon cookbook recommends the same (190 degrees for 10 hours).

True, unless you're very careful and use the right configuration of hand blender on a VERY low speed. Doing this, you can combine the rigid power of a fork with the whippiness of a whisk. But yes, that method's not for everyone.Also, for an interesting variation, check out David Bouley's version. He uses a combination of milk, cream, olive oil, and pistachio oil heated and incorporated into the riced potatoes first, and then puts them through a tamis (gently!) into a bain-marie and incorporates the butter at that point. I've tried this, and it actually yields a decent facsimile with a wonderful nutty accent and about 1/2 the butter.

Yup; no secret ingredient. You will observe, of course, that the recipe is essentially 50% potatoes/50% butter; that's the "secret," if you will. I do it with cream and using a hand blender on low speed for incorporating the butter. It works great.

The recipe can be found in the New York Restaurant Cookbook, by Florence Fabricant (p.154). In brief, you take a magret de moulard, remove the skin and fat (use these for something else), season with salt and pepper, make a "variant" beurre blanc (reduce white wine, thyme and shallots in pan until almost dry, add cream and reduce by half, then incorporate cold butter bit by bit). Keep sauce at a bare simmer, add the duck breasts to the sauce (which should cover them) and cook for four minutes, then turn and cook for another four minutes, swirling the pan occasionally. Discard the sauce. Heat up a little demiglace with a little reduced red wine, slice the breast, and serve with that sauce around the duck. At Blue Hill, the duck is mounted on some farro (spelt grain; it's like bulgur wheat) which is boiled and then combined with onions cooked in butter, chicken stock, salt, pepper, and sugar. You could easily do this via a sous vide preparation, but given the work required to make the beurre blanc and the short cooking time, it doesn't seem worth it; you'll spend more effort vacuum-sealing the duck than cooking it. I'm sure that a duck breast cooked sous vide at 160 degrees with butter, salt and pepper, and one or two thyme leaves would be excellent as well, but it would be a different preparation.

Given that you've broadened your search to not be restricted to 3-star (or 2-star with a bullet) restos, and that you do seem slightly price-sensitive, I'd actually switch my recommendation from Le Bristol to L'Astrance. It's cheaper, the food is VERY exciting, it probably deserves at least two stars anyway if Pascal Bobillot were to care, and it's a nice space, especially at this grey time of year in Paris. I imagine that the chic factor is higher at dinner (I've only been there for dinner, but given the neighborhood, lunch is likely to be all businesspeople), but if your focus is on the food, lunch seems good to me.

Second that. I recall absolutely NO difference in the quality of the food around the time of Grimes' review; in fact, while my experiences at the 76th St. address are tinted with the rosy halo of fond memory, I think the cooking at Daniel may well have shown nothing but improvement over the years.

Of course, these are all vastly different flavors: Roast garlic, sauteed garlic, and boiled garlic are three separate animals. IMX, the Italian restaurant standard (and the more popular generally) is roasted garlic mashed potatoes, due in no small part to the fact that roasted garlic is easy, uses no burner space, is a common by-product of other premade roasted products (tomatoes, for instance), and keeps forever. I'd recommend the roasting option to your friend, since it's probably the flavor that she remembers from the restaurants.

Raw squash blossoms: Not so good, at least IMHO. I'd recommend either an antipasto misto, or something with mushrooms. 'Tis the season, after all. For an antipasto misto, it's simple: Get lots of good cheese, good meats (salami and dry-cured ham are classics), some olives, perhaps some anchovies, preserved artichokes, and/or roasted peppers, and you're set. Easy to put together (you're really buying all the ingredients rather than cooking anything), keeps well, and perfect to nosh on while cooking/before dinner. If you really feel the need to make something, I'd suggest a homemade focaccia to go with the antipasto. It's light (if you do it right) and miles beyond most versions you can pick up at a bakery or gourmet food store. I'm happy to pass on my focaccia recipe if you'd like it. For something with mushrooms: A mushroom tart is probably the right way to go. One nice recipe is to roast some walnuts, saute onions in butter until caramelized, pulse together in a food processor, add salt and pepper, bed down on a square or rectangle of puff pastry, and layer mushrooms (preferably fresh porcini if you can get them (but cremini or portobello are fine), either briefly steamed or sauteed) on top, then bake until pastry is done. Cut into wedges, this makes lovely finger food.

Yes. It does seem like it has a goldfish-bowl quality from the outside, but it works surprisingly well once you're in it. I will second what Molto said about the food at Le Bristol. It is somewhat traditional compared to certain other high-wire acts, but not really so stuffy. To use a familiar example, I would rate it as somewhat more playful/experimental than Daniel. Note that Pre Catalan is certainly no more experimental at that. Seriously, if you want a properly wild-and-wacky experience, it seems like you should go for Pierre Gagnaire, which is at the high end of experimentation and adventurousness for Paris. I haven't been there, but that is its reputation, and it continues to draw rave reviews. Sent my girlfriend there on this last trip to Paris (for lunch), and she said it was great: Not as good as Le Bristol in her estimation, but only a shade less impressive. Although again, judging from the menus (and what she ate), it's not really significantly more experimental than Le Bristol. It's a Parisian institution. Haven't been there in about 15 years; some of the most over-the-top service ever, very traditional food. Probably not what you're looking for if you want cutting edge, though.

Porte de Maillot is probably closest. It's really easy to get to; remember than Parisian distances are small. I too will recommend Le Bristol. Pre Catalan is nice, but better in summer. Also, have you considered L'Ambroisie?

John, Thanks for your courteous response. My question assumes a polite request beforehand to the staff to meet with the chef (e.g., Ducasse) on a particular night. Without being obtrusive or taking liberties, a foodie (who may be an amateur chef) can provide useful input to a chef (or chef de cuisine). In fact, I imagine speaking to the chef de cuisine for any of Ducasse's restaurants could me more informative. My experience is that the best chefs take tremendous pride in their work and often enjoy the banter with a discerning palate. A chef in top form (whether at a starred or non-starred restaurant) especially appreciates constructive criticism, instead of gushing praise. They understand food is indeed "serious" business to certain diners and are more than willing to oblige a question or two about their craft. I was just wondering what limits were acceptable. Henry ← Henry, While I am not John, I might offer a few suggestions, having worked the front and back of a dining room myself. First off, it all depends on the chef. Some of them have absolutely NO desire to make what they see as idle chitchat with customers after having spent (or worse, WHILE spending) a seventeen- or eighteen-hour day at work. Others can get somewhat grumpy, but may open up in the face of insightful and interesting conversation, especially if you have the courtesy to call ahead or wait until the kitchen is shut down (I find myself in the latter position quite often, since I tend to start meals at about 8-8:30 and frequently end up eating for four to five hours.) Still others seem to embrace the experience; I had a wonderful discussion with Gerard Boyer at Les Crayeres when I was 13 and knew almost nothing about food (and spoke execrable French to boot). It's all an issue of personality, and perhaps of changing eras; I remember going out to eat at (NYT-rated) four-star restaurants in NYC with the almost assured knowledge that the chef would be out touring the dining room and chatting with regulars and with interested newcomers at some point in the evening. In recent times, the only two I've seen do that in New York are Mario Batali and Jean-Georges Vongerichten (the latter of who came out with my cheese selection in hand on our last dinner!). Of course, in some instances, younger chefs are quite welcoming to serious diners: I've had wonderful conversations with Dan Barber (of Blue Hill in NY) and with David Kinch at Manresa in Los Gatos, CA; in the latter case, we were invited to tour the kitchen after dinner without asking, and Mr. Kinch spent quite a long time discussing cooking techniques and inspirations for particular dishes with me. While it is true that the best chefs do appreciate constructive criticism, there are some who simply prefer to avoid interactions outside the kitchen, especially given the tense atmosphere of some kitchens and the frequent publicity junkets that some chefs find themselves upon. I might suggest polling this forum to see who's up for this sort of interaction and who isn't before heading to a particular restaurant. That's it for the general statements. However, I think that these apply with some force to Paris, especially the last one (ask here to see what the expected reactions of the chefs at the places you're going will be). In Paris, I have had excellent conversations with Mr. Ducasse (a long time and two restaurants ago) and with Alain Passard (also a while ago). However, I was unable to talk with Eric Frechon at Le Bristol on my recent visit, despite the incredibly warm welcome of the staff (M. Frechon was just too busy), and my attempts at engaging M. Pacaud at L'Ambroisie were likewise unsuccessful. In both cases, I probably could have pushed it, but then it wouldn't have been an enjoyable conversation for the chefs, and thus not productive or fun for anyone.

I'm pretty sure Saint-Veran is a Burgundy, not a Bordeaux. I like a good Chablis with oysters, myself, or a white Graves. ← That will, of course, teach me not to post about wine while unpacking bottles from my airline carryon. Saint-Veran (a southern Burgundy, as pointed out) is indeed a wine I like, but not with oysters! (I find chablis and chardonnay in general a bit too flinty and powerful with oysters). Entre deux mers is a Bordeaux subregion, and it was those whites that were the stuff I was thinking of; either the pure sauvignon blanc or sauvignon-based blend varieties are my favorite oyster wines. (Chateau Malene or Chateau des Faures '00 or '02 are two strong contenders that won't break the bank.)

In case this wasn't covered above: Fines de claires and speciales de claires are both Marenne oysters; the names just refer to different ages of creuses (ostrea edulis), as Oyster Guy pointed out. Speciales aren't exceptionally "special," any more than fines are especially "fine" or "small"; they're just fancy names for the age of the oyster. The numbers, FYI, refer to weight. Plates are numbered from 000 (the largest) to No 6 (the smallest). Fines, speciales, and all other creuses are numbered differently, from no 1 (the largest) to no 6 (the smallest). Generally, no 2 and no 3 are the most common creuses, but I actually prefer no 4 (somewhat hard to find, though). Also, while muscadet is regionally appropriate, I prefer a sauvignon blanc wine with oysters, and thus generally go with a Blanc de Bordeaux (Saint-Veran is a particular favorite of mine). Stick with younger wines; the roundness of older whites tends to clash with the saltiness of French oysters.

Signor Molto,I'd been meaning to post and THANK YOU for the amazing recommendation! We had a wonderful time, and it was really your photojournal piece (and subsequent suggestions) that inspired me to go in the first place! I certainly do NOT hold the tasting menu policy against the kitchen; my list of "downsides" was really tongue in cheek. Some people do place a high premium on particular features, so I figured I'd point out the ones that aren't characteristic of the restaurant. I also agree with you about the primacy of Le Bristol compared with the other institutions that you've listed (although I've never been to El Bulli; suggestions on how to get a reservation without jumping through too many hoops would be appreciated!). This place, IMHO, is a solid three-star establishment and deserves to be ranked among Europe's best.

Chez Michel, 10, Rue de Belzunce 75010 01 44 53 06 20, a coupl'a hundred meters away. Great game, good season, good luck. Back up, Terminus Nord, std brasserie stuff but convenient. ← What John said. Reserve NOW at Chez Michel though; it's a very popular place.Another back-up is Chez Casimir (6 rue Belzunce, just two doors down from Chez Michel), run by the former sous-chef at Chez Michel. Excellent food as well.