stellabella

local microbrewery? cruel, cruel, cruel............. i agree with steven that belgian beers are the best tasting, but they put me to sleep instantly. in paris my sister and i went to a belgian place and tried six different beers--three hours later we were eating cigarettes and crying. belgian beer tastes so good but it makes me postively drunk and uncharming. so unfair. when i was actually in belgium i loved the rochefort--but at 9% alcohol it nearly killed me. I found that it went well with food. it's not something i'd knock back after a long day at work, on an empty stomach. when i'm up north i buy my husband cases of yuengling porter, lord chesterfield, black and tan. in central PA last summer we tried Troegs and brought back several cases of it--still have a couple six packs left. on valentine's day i went to the farmer's market in Atlanta looking for some sam smith's for my hub and they didn't have it. instead i picked up mackeson's triple stout brewed by whitbread in london. i like it a lot--tho it's probably too sweet for some palates. i chime in to the consensus on sam adams--i was just thinking about that today. too heavily hopped for me. newcastle, negro modelo, when we run out of our PA beer, are our cervezas de la casa.

steven and jhlurie--what can i say? thanks to both of you for indulging me. i think macrosan wants to make sure that i'm not just indulging in voyeurism for voyeurism's sake. fair enough. but to read about a concept like zimzum from lurianic kabbalah, to walk through borough heights--i'm like a sponge, and helpless. a few years back even the great madonna was purportedly "studying kabbalah." maybe she really dug it--who knows? i'm not jumping on a bandwagon, though, i promise. i know very few jews willing to discuss judaism with me. maybe this isn't the best place to start the discussion. one of these days i'm flying to new york for an eGullet dinner--i checked out the pictures in the new jersey section and i'm seething with envy. everyone looks so NIIIIIIIIICE. speaking of nice, adam: americans aren't necessarily nice--jut friendly--and that all depends on whom you're interacting with and why. you've heard the stereotype of the new yorker--rude, brusque, won't give you the time of day. i happen to think new yorkers are about the nicest, most sincere people i've encountered anywhere--if you look lost they stop and point you in the right direction. they answer your questions when you ask for info, and they never waste your time. i didn't want the french--er, parisians--i encountered to care about me so much as i just would've appreciated a smile, or even a blank stare, as opposed to a sneer. what's up with that? and then of course there are the brits, who, instead of thank you, respond to the simplest transactions with "cheers." i LOVE that. it makes my spine tingle. I feel like i am being toasted, even in the safeway.

jhlurie and steven: you've provided me here with a greater education than all of chaim potok's novels combined--and i've read them all. and once, dare i confess this?--my friend and i attended an orthodox shabbat service, sat in the balcony with the women.... my friend judy, a "lapsed" jew from brooklyn, calls me a wannabe, but more recently, an "HJ"--"honorary jew." i can't explain it--ever since i read the chosen i have been totally intrigued by judaism, and also very amazed by the fact that the average american gentile knows nothing about it. and i think that's a shame. i have one favor to ask--could either of you recommend a really good book about orthodox judaism? thanks!

Steven: I'd love to see a rodeo or the WWF; right before I moved out here to my little kuntry town, the local line dancin' bar put on an annual rodeo--they still have the arena set up for it, but they've stopped doing it. Truly, it's not the element of danger which keeps me away from the race track, it's the noise. I was just sayin'. I think I have a different perspective on fundamentalism --religious, specifically--because I live in the Bible Belt. It's one thing to view Southerners as curiosities, and it's quite another to live with them. We are so getting off the original topic, but I'd love to talk to you sometime about the tendency among people of a specific religion to hate their own lapsed members more than non-believers--yes, maybe because they do see them as potential converts. Isn't there the same tendency among ultra-Orthodox Jews to be really hatefulk towards reformed Jews, whom they see as traitors? If you looked up "shiksa" in the dictionary, you'd see my picture, but I'm really curious about this. In NYC in Oct. I talked my husband into taking the train out to 18th Ave in Brooklyn so we could find some good Italian food, and lo and behold there we were in an ultra-Orthodox neighborhood. Fascinating to me--utterly. But one of my New York friends goes on against ultra-Orthodox Jews for being, well, fundamentalist and exclusionary, etc. Is there any correlation? Hm... jhlurie: Southerners also love stores ending in -Mart. I like stores ending in .com--I live 50 miles from Atl. If I'm going to buy music or a food processor or whatever, I can get on amazon or drive into that traffic hell--I rarely choose the latter. But for everything else, I am a devoted Target shopper. And, to get back to the original topic, when in London I love to explore Marks & Sparks, and in Paris Monoprix. Mindless consumer heaven! During my first visit to Paris a couple weeks ago, I asked the man at the desk in our hotel if there were a Monoprix anywherer within walking distance. He replied, his voice positively dripping with sniveling scorn and disdain, "Not in THIS arrondissemant." Tut, tut.

Steven, I am afraid you might think I have no sense of humor. In fact, I do. And can I ask you, where do you live? And you are Jewish? Come visit me in Morgan County, Georgia. There are no Jews here, and if you make your Judaism known here, these people won't be nice to you. Because, honey, once they find out you already belong to some other "pretend church," they're done with you. We had a letter to the editor in our local paper last week blaming the NAACP for the oppression of whites in this country and the demise of Southern culture. A riot! When I was 12 I used to work in a concession stand selling burgers at the Atomic Speedway outside Knoxville. I used to like to watch the demolition derby. Once I saw a car go right over the wall. For 20 minutes we wondered if the driver were alive or dead. I am an elitist, if one defines elitist as a person who believes that some ways of being are superior to others. So I have stopped shopping at any store that ends in -Mart. It is simply too depressing. Don't get me wrong. I love where I live, but I am also steeped in it. I think Simon's original point about how we are always fascinated by what is different from what we know is true in this case. There's dumbness everywhere, isn't there?

Simon, I have never been to Graceland myself, and I don't care if I ever go. I could visit a Wal-mart Supercenter on Saturday afternoon and have the same experience. I know who Elvis was--I live in GAW-GUH--I was born in Tennessee--he might even be my cuzzin . I'm a Southerner and I do love the American south. I love roots music [including Elvis]. I love wide open spaces, cotton fields, crumbling plantations, pecan groves. I even like a real honest-to-god redneck. I also love Martha's Vineyard and New Orleans and New York City, Ithaca, El Paso, and, and. There's stuff to like here in these States. We're big. But there's also this rabid right wing religious culture and this moron who parades as president and shames me. And giant monster cars and tract housing and an increasing feeling of isolation among many people. Sometimes I just fantasize about living in a civilized country with low church attendance--not to knock religious people--my best friend is a priest. America's moral schizophrenia is just so bogus and oppressive. I love London pub culture. I like the fact that people value sharing time together every day, even if they are drunk. [There are parts of the US which still have a pub culture--you mentioned Kansas City--ever been to St. Louis? ] I also love staying in B&Bs which allow pets--I love sitting next to a cat or dog in a pub. I wish Liza could bring her dog over. He would make friends, too.

Hi, Simon. What do you do in your office all day, besides have debates about pubs and cities :) :) ? I just made this case to our friends last night at dinner. I said, LONDON is my FAVORITE city, but New York is the GREATEST city in the world. Now, let's not start a debate about that--that's just my opinion, 'kay? After I was in London a couple weeks ago--visiting your favorite and now my favorite pub--I went to Paris for the first time with my sister. At first I ahted it. I couldn't believe how rude people were to us. I've had many English people bark at me or condescend to me, but they are always smirking when they do it. And I smirk right back. But the French weren't smirky--they just looked pissed. I mean, mad. But--after I got home I realzied I had been bitten by some French bug. My husband and I are going back this summer [after a month in London, our FAVORITE city] with our 9-yr-old neice. Emilei likes London, too, but she'll LOVE Paris. There's just something about it, Simon. It's "creevy." It's pretty. The food is good. It's humiliating. And as an American, I don't mind a bit of humiliation. I'm not one of those Americans who hates America and loves Europe--I love/hate America and love/hate Europe. But American food? Oh, Simon. ???

YVONNE! While in NYC in OCT my husband and I went to the Lower East Side Tenement Museum--interesting--and after stopped into the Keltic Lounge. In my journal I have written "S. Stanton on Ludlow." What was I thinking? But I'm sure you can find it. I had a nice pint of Boddington's. It was a funny little place, seemed very local.

My husband and I visited his best friend in Belgium for a week while said friend was visiting as a Fulbright. We went to Dinant one afternoon and when it was time to eat, they both started into the first restaurant we passed. I kept walking and spent the next hour looking at every place in town. They were ready to throw me into the river. I was outnumbered. We ended up eating omelettes in a tavern. But they were French omelettes, thank goodness. I decided I had to try to savor the entire experience, and Dinant was so outrageouly strange to me that I decided our lunch fit the experience perfectly. EVERY time my husband and I are in Europe we always end up eating from a falaffel stand at midnight--just once--and I now try to feel a little romantic about it, at least, since I can't feel HAPPY, or GUSTATORILY SATISFIED. C'est la vie.

Many men would find Yvonne and I rather INTRIGUING girlies, and you better SMILE when you say that, buster. I faint with joy, but when I was younger and more impressionable I used to WRITHE. I like the idea of eGullet people drinking together. I'll give you a holler before I come in July.

Simon, as I was leaving the WA, one of the pub-owners, Stephen , presented me with a King & Barnes Mild Ale tap label: it's brewed in Sussex, and he wanted me to have something with the word Sussex on it--after a long story about geneology and whatnot. I also got their email address and the phone number of the man and his son with whom I spent hours trashing Bush. I'll be back for the month of July, and I plan to make my presence known. As I enter the pub, I'll shout your name!

Leon--perhaps. It was ON the Blvd St. Germaine, just a couple blocks north [northwest?] of Odeon. As we looked in the windows we were crestfallen. It was very brightly lit, brass-y and fern-y. AND the food people were eating looked horrible. Most of my friends and acquaintances don't "get" me. One asked last night, So, what had you wanted to see in Paris? I replied, So, you mean, what had I wanted to EAT? I find I live by the words of my matron saint, MFKFISHER--it's not just what one eats, but where, when, with whom, and in what frame of mind. I know better than to take a meal in a scary-looking place, esp in Paris. The city itself is richly beautiful--almost overwhelmingly so--and I know I need to return in order to savor it more slowly--the same way I savored my meals. I loved the way EACH bite demanded my full attention. Why do I so rarely enjoy dining here in the States in the same way?

Imagine a macaroon going stale! We didn't try to go to Angelina's because I was getting the impression from this site that both food and service were increasingly underwhelming. I haven't eaten Domino's since I was in college, but back then ANYTHING was better than the cafeteria. And that's when Pearl spake those fateful words.

The young man at the desk at our hotel was not very nice to us on our first night. But the next night we told him the Belgian restuarant he directed us to on the Blvd St Germain had looked a bit too touristy, and we had kept walking til we found a little creperie. I think it was the French equivalent of IHOP, but, excuse me, the chestnut cream and chocolate crepe is not on the menu here in the States! So the next night, after we told him we'd had le gouter at Laduree, he warmed up a bit and sent us across the street [Rue de Casimir Delavigne] to La Cambuse. It felt like someone's living room, with playbills, posters and postcards stuck to the walls, and rooster figurines crammed into every nook. Our server, also the owner I think, was delightful. The place was very small, and only a few tables occupied. My sister had souppe l'ogniene gratin, and I had the terrine sur table. The owner brough the entire terrine to my table, with a crock of gherkins, and let me eat what I wanted of it--at which point she removed it and brought our plats: faux fillet and confit de canard au gratin. My duck melted from the bone--the meat was rich and moist and not the least greasy. My au gratin potatoes--better than mom's, and another example of how the same foods, ie a POTATO--simply taste better in countries who think Monsanto is Antichrist. Shannon's frites were sliced flat rather than julienne, and even as they cooled they maintained their crispness--I thought I'd had the world's best frites in Belgium--La Cambuse may have outdone the Belgians. We had a nice bottle of Cotes du Rhones along with. After, digestives and creme brulee for my sister, fromage for me. Again, a platter of cheeses brought to me to enjoy as long as I wished. I found myself taking tiny little nibbles, savoring the goat cheeses especially. I know little about French cuisine. I had never been to France before. My gastro-world has expanded. As soon as I got home I insisted to my husband that we go back to Paris this summer. Then, the countryside. But first, baby steps.....

Steve and Robert, Paris is so big! I had no idea. My sister and I walked until our dogs were barking , but we found the Champs Laduree. The chocolat chaud made me feel rather reckless and sodden at the same time. I watched two beautiful young French women at the table next to us scraping their cups with their spoons. I sampled four macaroons: the chocolat and caramel were fine, but the vanille and pistache were extraordinary. On our second afternoon we stopped into a patisserie north of the Pantheon, before we crossed the River to Notre Dame. I never could figure out the name of it. I had a chocolate macaroon; Shannon had a coffee macaroon. They were every bit as delicious as the ones I'd had the day before at Laduree. Later we made it back to the Rue de Buci not far from our hotel before my sister nearly broke down in tears her feet hurt so badly. We decided to have our le gouter at Paul because... there we were. Mistake. Our pastries were not delicious--in fact, my tarte fromage blanc tasted like the cooler--but the chocolat chaud was still pretty delicious. I drank two pots, knowing that I was leaving the next day and wouldn't be having it again for a while. I was reminded of what my friend Pearl once said:"Pizza is like sex: even when it's bad it's still pretty good." Is the same true about hot chocolate and macaroons in Paris?

Simon and Thomas, you have changed my life. I was in London last week, for no good reason other than to say a brief hello to my favorite city. I decided one morning that I would have lunch at the Crypt and then hop the tube and, with the help of my trusty and indispensible London A-Z, find the Market Porter, the Wenlock Arms, and the Jerusalem Tavern. After a nice chat with some butchers in the Borough Market, and a sniff in Neal's Yard Dairy, I had me a pint of Archer's Blackjack Porter at the MP. A pretty mixed crowd in the pub, and larger selection of real ales than I'd ever seen. Thus fortified, back on the Northern line to Old Street, and a brisk walk to the WA. The minute I walked in I nearly fainted with joy: the warmth, the fireplace, the small knots of men laughing over their pints, some in ties, others in flannel shirts. Three people were behing the bar pulling pints. One's name was Stephen, I think. Was he ever nice to me! I first had a pint of Church-End-Brewery Grave Digger's Ale, which Stephen said one doesn't see very often. A young man sitting next to me at the bar was eating what I knew had to be the salt beef sandwich--and I had to have one, too. The way the hot meat melted the butter spread thickly on the bread--I can't talk about it. I noticed that most everyone was going for the Slater's Supreme. One man bought a pint and offered me a taste. So I had to have a pint myself. I was taking notes, and the father of the young man next to me said, "It's quite unusual to see a woman in a pub drinking pints on a Thursday afternoon." "What a shame!" I replied, then explained to him that I was doing some field research so that my husband and I could come back during the summer, while he's teaching at UCL, and enjoy the trulyt exceptional ales. He laughed and said, "Even more unusua--a woman researching ales for her husband!" His son chimed in, "The pub is where we go to escape our wives!" My obvious response,"And where do your wives go to escape YOU?" They laughed, and thus began the most delightful afternoon I have ever spent in London. I never had to pay for another pint; one man approached and saidm "Young lady, seeing as you're sampling, what would you like next?" I tried the Adnam's. Then as my new friends and I began to delve deeper into our hilarious discussion about American politics and "idiotic" SUVS, I was presented with a half [i insisted, really--I am not accustomed to drinking so early in the day] of Brakspear's. One of the other publicans--a dark-haired man in a Greek fisher cap, pulled it for me and said, "Well, it would appear that your pub crawl has come to an abrupt end!" Indeed I could not move, nor would I have wanted to. So I never made it to the Jerusalem Tavern, which everyone hearilty recommended, in addition to the Royal Oak on Tabbrad St, the Seckforde Arms, [whose address I must have forgotten to write down] and, for food, the Eagle on Farringdon Rd. Allof these are within a stone's throw of my London residence. I can't wait to go back In july. My husband is going to be SO happy he married me. Previously in the thread I mentioned the Paddington Arms right across from the General Post Office--it is right around the corner from our flat. Their ales rotate, and their selection is respectable--but a far cry from those at the MP and WA. Nonetheless, it does have a real neighborhood feel to it, which is almost as important to me as the drink. It's close and convenient, if we can';t make the longer walk or tube ride to the others. Amen. I won't be drinking in the Marlborough Arms, Mabel's Tavern, the Green Man again. The Museum Tavern, the Lamb--yes, especially on the walk home from a concert at St. Martin's. I feel enriched and blessed. eGullet rules.

sweet 'n low although now they're saying it might not cause cancer. but it's still refrigerator coolant i scoop ice cream for friends on some weekends--they also sell "calico cottage" fudge--people rave over it 'cause it's sweet and creamy--but it's made from A MIX--we never tell sometimes i need a bite of it--AGH! it grosses me out but tastes #### good.

My sister and I are going to Paris next weekend after she finishes a business trip in London. Neither of us has ever been to Paris. We have three nights and two days to eat. 1] Ti Couz? A friend says I will like the mussels. Where is it? 2] d'Alloyau? Described to me as a "pastry palace"--where is it? I have searched the web and can't find any info on either. I think I am going to like Paris well enough to return. During my first short trip, any suggestions for food or places I should NOT miss? Thanks.

every time i go to delaware to visit family i bring my husband back a case or two of yuengling from atlantic liquors in rehoboth beach--believe it or not, we really can't find yuengling in atlanta, even tho they have a brewery in florida now, i hear. i noticed 12-packs of Magic Hat beer out of vermont. i admit the catchy labels attracted me first. i've tried the fat angel lager, but am saving the stout for my husband. i like what i've tried--the lager was brilliant amber, not too hoppy, with a nice cloudy texture--it felt like sustenance. other opinions? how widely is this distributed? neither my husband nor i had ever seen it before. but, hey, nothing beats a yuengling porter!

TOO FEW. I gleaned through all the replies, and concur with most. My husband and I are both on academic calendars. During the semester we find it hard to commit to eating at home. He always has meetings. I am always grading papers. Someone mentioned that when he/she doesn't cook enough, he/she begins to feel cranky. I am the same way. To make it more complicated, we live 50 miles from Atlanta in a small country town with no restaurants. We often end up eating salads or beans and rice for supper during the week. On weeends we like to treat ourselves to a meal out, usually in Athens. We're also fortunate to be in a community of great cooks, so we share a lot of meals in other people's homes. To me there's nothing better than a home-cooked meal at SOMEBODY ELSE'S house.

Jimmyo, you can have the rum--I'll just take a bath in the nog.

I just discovered Neal's Yard the last time I was in London--I dream about the cheeses--thanks for the tip. Do you mean The Lamb that is in Bloomsbury--or not too far from Bloomsbury? I like that pub--great back patio.

I was just going to ask about Rules and found this post. My husband and I are privileged to spend every other summer in London, and Rules is our latest food discovery. Our good friend, one of the dorm wardens at UCL, introduced us to Rules. The second time we ate there I couldn't help but notice the surprised expression on the faces of the South Carolina women across the aisle as the waiter brought out their Yorkshire pudding. They also asked us to snap some photos of them. So tourists like to eat here. Doesn't bother me. I'm a tourist. That said, we ate there a few times summer 2000 and loved every dish brought to the table--I split the Dover sole for two and I still dream about it, served with steamed watercress. We always ordered a couple bottles of wine. We considered this a special treat and easily dropped L50 a head, but not L150. Ray made the reservations--we never had a problem. My husband and I also really like a place near Highgate called Sabor de Brasil--Mike always arranges to take the students there for a program meal. We have never found any place even similar in Atlanta. What do Londoners think? Could you recommend someplace even better?

Could you give me a hint as to how to find this pub on Clerkenwell? I'll be in London in Jan. and again in July for a month while my husband teaches. We stay in a UCL flat called Langdon Close a few blocks south of Euston Station. We have a Young's pub at one end of the street and the Paddington Arms at the other--it's right across from a large central post office, and we enjoyed drinking pints in there on Friday nights with the postal workers after work. We liked drinking in this pub because the ales rotated [it's a "free house, " yes?]--we're always looking for something different, so we'll take any suggestions for a pub worth seeking out--we don't mind having to cover ground to find it.