Margaret Pilgrim

Many thanks for all of these good recommendations. I have made paneer and yogurt cheese, but haven't gone beyond that, and I think it's time to stretch. By the way, if you want something wonderful, make yogurt cheese from the richest yogurt you can get your hands on. We use Byblos brand, the same that we use for frozen yogurt that also blows away all negotive connotation of yogurt. It is about 170 calories/cup, as I remember, and worth every one. Varmint, Sunset Magazine published a recipe and procedure for homemade mozzerella in June '89. No special equipment was required. If you would like a copy of the article, message me privately and I can either USPS mail or fax a copy to you.

I always approach a visit to France with malice of forethought: what am I going to suitcase home this time? It occured to me that it would be interesting to find out what all of you consider important enough to shop for and lug home. My stash has been very personal and makes me laugh; all of these things have more to do with sentiment than with intrinsic value. A partial list: Kilos of herbs de provence (I now have a surplus in my freezer) lavender ble tarbais beans (indepensible for great cassoulet) BarLeDuc Cherry Marnier (the available only in France cherry version of Grand Marnier) Languedoc garage wines Sel gris and Fleur du sel Piment d'Espelette Flocantes (flocantes are a "Gascon callison", made with prunes, almonds and armagnac, topped with royal icing) Antique French as well as new Provencal and Basque linens Sauce spoons and antique cheese forks 19th C. glass confiture containers, crockery fois gras pots, Feliz Potin confiture crocks armagnac, topped with royal icing) Chocolate and Annick Goutal

Place whole cloves across an ant trail. The ants are completely disoriented by the pungency, and return whence they came. (Once I called home from across country and my son described an horrific ant invasion. I told him to sprinkle cloves across the trails. He did. Powdered cloves, permanently staining the kitchen floor mahogany brown. WHOLE CLOVES. Whole cloves. God is in the details. Nevertheless, when we returned home, the ants were gone.)

First, Cathy L and Wilfred, can you describe as precisely as possible how you think the braised pork belly was done? I am a mimic cook, and this is someplace I would definitely go. Second, in response to the thread's question, Grilled Calimari and Rice Bean (tiny white beans about the size and shape of a grain of long rice) Salad at Delfina in SF. and the cumin scented white bean and duck confit braise at Alma (called something like chugo de pato), also in SF. Of course, followed with chocolate-jalapeno ice cream from the same kitchen.

I don't think the casual reader appreciates the absolute truth of your post. Pan-flipping, along with turning baked goods from their pans and unmoulding both hot and chilled foods requires more "Little Engine that Could" attitude than it does expertise.

Keller's treatment of oxtail in his French Laundry Cookbook is time consuming but really lovely. Get his exacting recipe from the book for a perfect rendition, or get much of the general feeling by marinating your trimmed, cut-up oxtail in red wine and minced carrot, celery, onion, garlic, parsley, thyme and bay overnight before braising.

Based on absolutely no scientific proof, I always buy large onions because I think they are generally milder than their smaller counterparts. (Sometimes that assumption is correct. ) At any given time, you can find a portion of white, yellow and/or red onions in my veggie compartment, wrapped securely in saran and offending no-one. I have no problem removing a single slice, but agree that you have to work a little harder to get tiny dice. (The same is true of green, red and chile peppers. I keep them on hand even if I only want a small portion for a dish.)

As far as I can tell, the raie I eat in France and the skate I eat in restaurants in the US are the same. In addition, it is the same as the skinned-but-not-boned skate I buy from $7./lb to $12./lb at two local upscale fishmongers, and as the skin-on, bone-in skate I buy from my Chinese fishmarket for $1.60/lb. They are all some of my favorite seafoods. I cook it on the bone (cartilage, rather) as well as bone it out, which takes only seconds, as does removing the skin. Skate does have a different texture from most fish, and for this reason is often called "poor-man's crab"; it does break apart into long filaments rather than flakes (like sea bass) or firm flesh (like Pacific halibut). It is boned out most easily, either raw or cooked, by simply running the knife between the cartilage and flesh before cutting into serving or bite sized pieces. It smells like the sea. It should never smell ammoniac; if it does, it is too old to eat.

Way down in the article Hesser tells us that her waffle iron has multiple plates from which to choose, and that she used one with parallel grids to make her sandwiches. Mine isn't so sophisticated, but does have a plate that can be reversed from waffle to plain sandwich press. My favorite, which I had first in Rome some 25 years ago, is spinach (which has been lightly sauteed with OO and garlic) with mozerella on basil bread.

I have relied on Wells since she started publishing, but feel that she has become somewhat overextended with all of her endeavors. I agree with Bux on all of his points, and particularly with his comment about her review of Les Magnolias. Wells, relying on anecdotal information, simply took the wrong RER train, winding up at a station far from her destination, walked for ages, finally took a cab to complete her journey, undoubtedly arrived late, a little bedraggled and more than a little out of sorts. Her review confounds me, since she compares Jean Chauvel's inventiveness with Pierre Gagnaire but concludes that she wouldn't return because the restaurant is too hard to get to. For information sake, Les Magnolias is reached easily by taking the "E" RER line from its Haussmann-St.Lazare station (located on rue Caumartin, directly behind Au Printemps department store) to the Nogent-Le Perreux station, which is a short couple of blocks from the front door of Les Magnolias. (In our family, this kind of research is done by "staff", who are fired for making the kind of blunder described above.) Staff http://www.lesmagnolias.com/#jx0383

This phraseology is not entirely unfamiliar to me, although I can't offhand remember where or cite an example. I have always read it to mean, as Bux also suggested, that the institution guarantees that they will provide you a meal (or a room or an apartment or a service) at this sometimes negotiated price. It need not be, nor seldom is, the top meal or room, etc., that they offer on a menu or price list at higher tariff. I have noticed that multi-star inns frequently offer a demi-pension that is a tremendous bargain when you combine their room and menu prices, but the fine print clarifies that "the chef will compose a special menu for demi-pension". Another example, when I am booking lodging and have secured a "best price" I am always careful to ask about what kinds of rooms are available at a higher price, where the room I have been offered falls within the range of rooms and what kinds of upgrades I might have at a higher rate, having learned that less expensive is not always the best nor even an acceptable buy. The same is true with more careful reading of a multi-menued dining room. Parenthetically, Robert, we did not notice any price-creep to speak of when we were in France in late March-April. Our hotel was within pennies of its previous rate as were our favorite restaurants. Is it possibile that this phenomenon is taking place it the most expensive levels where many visiters might be less price conscious or aware of the creep? Also, I wonder percentage-wise how many 3-star diners are frequent repeat customers? How many are one time visiters? How many would put off a long-scheduled dinner because of a couple of hundred dollars?

Steve P. suggests that "It isn't that things aren't as interesting and nuanced because they are inexpensive, it's just that most inexpensive things happen to fit the description of being less interesting". Just this morning, for less than $20 I picked up a fermier goat cheese from the maker, a nectarine, white peach, a couple of figs and a handful of freshly dried pitted bing cherries from the growers. The cheese was a new one developed by the cheesemaker at the request of a Napa vintner who wanted a foil for champagne and was created with that combination in mind. The fruit were the roundest and most balanced the market had to offer this morning. Now, I'll concede that the champagne can cost whatever you want to pay, but even without that extravagance, the cheese and fruit measured together will offer tremendously interesting combinations, opportunity for both analysis and orgasms of taste. (Actually, but outside my example, I bought 3 additional different cheeses from this fabulous producer, and am counting on wine to address the cholesterol! )

Dinner last night was mache with sliced tomatoes and dollops of aged triple-cream goat cheese with EV olive oil and sea salt, pork marsala and noodles, and sliced oranges. A sufficiency, no? However, when it was time for my husband to say good-night, he said "I'm hungry". "Something like apple pie a-la-mode." Almost in jest I countered with "French toast with applesauce and ice cream?" Sold. It was amazingly good: French toast rounds made with egg yolk, heavy cream, calvados and brown sugar; chunky homemade applesauce; vanilla ice cream; a splash of calvados. And he was actually able to sleep after this. (In the words of the old nursery rhyme, "To bed, to bed said Sleephead; tarry a while said Slow. Put on the pot said Greedygut. We'll sup before we go.")

My only experience with this dish was a version I enjoyed at the now defunct Elephant and Castle on Spring St. in NYC. Several weeks later, while experiencing one of our very infrequent 100 degree days in SF, I called the chef for instructions on how to duplicate it. He told me to blend peeled freshly baked beets, peeled cucumbers, sour cream and veal stock, then serve chilled with creme fraiche and chopped dill. It was fabulous.

This is indeed really Italian. We had it first some 25 years ago in Orvieto, and couldn't wait to try it at home. You should find recipes for it in Hazan and Bugiali. A pasta sheet is spread with a (spinach and ricotta) filling, rolled up like a jelly-roll, wrapped and tied like a sausage in cheese cloth then poached. When cool enough to handle and slice, slices are placed in a baking dish, overlapping shingle-style, dribbled with marinara sauce and bechamel, then dusted with freshly grated parmesan before baking until hot and bubbly. A show-stopper.

Perhaps not what you are picturing, but I usually bone out the breasts and separate off the legs, then either toss or make broth from the carcass. I season the legs with coarse salt, cracked pepper, thyme and bay leaf, then let rest in the refrigerator over night before pricking the skin and roasting in a hot oven. The breasts, I season with salt, pepper and olive oil before grilling like steak. The legs will be well done and succulent with crunchy skin, while the breasts will be juicy, served rare and thinly sliced. If you have made broth, you can reduce it with shallot, red wine, a splash of cassis, and wisk in some butter at the end for a unifying sauce for both meats.

Cabrales, I very much appreciate your interest, effort and resulting list. I will try to read it more closely later, but this is my first encounter with the new format, and I am disturbed by how difficult it is to read. I am having trouble with clarity of font and contrast. Are you or anyone else having difficulty in receiving clear text? Again, thanks for the good list.

We LOVE our bread knife: Dexter, serrated, offset handle (the blade is parallel to but set an inch or so lower than the handle) gives excellent leverage and prevents compressing the loaf. Neatly cuts all manner of crusts (French, Italian, etc.) with minimum of effort and damage to the surrounding crust or bread interior. We bought ours at the Dexter outlet in Southbridge, MA. As I remember, these knives were around $20. at the outlet, and may or may not be more expensive elsewhere. The outlet is open Thursday evenings, roughly 5 to 9pm and Saturday mornings. They do phone orders. Dexter-Russell, 44 River St., Southbridge, MA

We pulverize nougat noir, the really dark French or Spanish nougat, and add it to either cooked or uncooked custard. It makes better stuff than any restaurant nougat ice cream I have had. Also, we simply froze very, very rich plain yogurt, such as Biblos brand, sweetened to taste, and have come very close to the wonderful Bulgarian yogurt ice cream they sell at the ice cream stand just off the Carrousel de Louvre in Paris. Basil ice cream served with figs poached in Cabernet and plain chocolate cake and more Cabernet syrup was another hit. Coarse ground coffee infused in either custard or sweetened heavy cream, then strained before freezing. As already mentioned, it is really important to let the mix mellow in the refrigerator for a few hours/overnight before freezing. Like dogs, there's no such thing as bad homemade ice cream.

While I love crab in all of its incarnations, I can't bite, chew and swallow soft-shell crab in any way that it has been served to me. (I can't help but think that I would fail ortolan also.) :confused:

JD, I have very much enjoyed your "long screed"s, your personal and judgemental critiques, the inclusion of non- destination as well as destination dining rooms, detailed descriptions of along the wayfood purveyers, the mention of price when it is relevant. Rather than a single lunch or an evening, I feel that we have spent a few days with you, and are enhanced by the experience. Thanks for both your good information and the vicarious pleasures.

Two thoughts: Try substituting firm bing cherries for tomatoes in your favorite fresh salsa recipe (or simply combine pitted cherries, red onion, jalapeno and); fabulous with pork. And what about using fresh pitted bings in Tommy's goat cheese salad? :wow:

I think they have almost been there and done that. Do you not remember the chapter in A Goose in Toulouse that described goat dairy farmers being required to tile the floors of their milking barns, resulting in wet floors freezing, goats skittering on the ice, milkers falling, and the eventual rescinding of the preposterous regulation? Of course, no one reembursed the whiplashed farmers for their expensive tile jobs nor for the retrofits. At least their broken bones were covered by France's medical system!

Robert, I've often wondered, do you think one receives the same class room...or even reception...when taking advantage of these auction or discounted methods of booking as one does when booking by phone, fax or agent? Margaret

Your experience is precisely the thrust of my post. Bux, this is exactly the type of restaurant we try to ferret out, and the kind we most enjoy. Would you be inclined to post the name? :wow: