Margaret Pilgrim

Another nice one in that area, Bux, is Ryst-Dupeyron on rue du Bac. I noticed some interesting vertical collections as well as unusual half bottles.

Bux, in defence of your Laguiole knives, I have found that the Laguiole knives were excellent for boning small birds. You know the kind. Larger than an ortilan but smaller than a game hen. In defence of your indecision, I haven't even bought mine yet!

Wimpy, I just read your second post and realize that you are almost on the plane! My best recommendation would be to taste the various brands that present themselves at markets. If you appear to be a serious buyer, they will sample out anything they sell. Buy what you like. I find that there is a tremendous difference in Laguiole quality, vis a vis some of the really awful stuff available here in the US. Again, I would recommend that you shop and test and buy the best quality you are up to. If you are not going to the source, there is a Laguiole shop in Paris on Place d'Opportune just off rue de Halles that carries good quality if not the lowest priced cutlery.

Wimpy, off hand I don't have a list. I seem to remember that Quercy Village, for one, does both tin and glass product. I will keep an eye out and message you a list in a couple of weeks.

For those of us who don't import our wine from the provinces, a user-friendly wine merchant in Paris is invaluable. We have had wonderful attention and service, resulting in excellent bottles, at Le Dernier Gout on rue de l'Abbaye in the 6th, at Tchin-Tchin on rue Montorgueil as well as at a shop on the 60s block of St. Dominique, whose name I forget. All of these shops encourage experimentation, and are delighted to discuss unusual wine areas and bottlings. Do you have favorite shops where you return for familiar and new-to-you wines?

Bux, perhaps I wasn't clear. On our last entry in April, we were told that meat from ruminants is not allowed now in any form, and I have to think this is a new regulation. Commercially canned (TINNED) meat products, other than ruminants, are allowed, and certainly include TINNED cassoulet, confit, and other pork products. However, the glass jar/rubber ringed/snap closure meat preserves, usually put up by artisan producers, regardless of whether they are foul or meat, are not allowed, but might get through if declared properly and luck was with you.

Wow, Jaybee. I'm impressed with your purchase. We pay a minimum of 3.00 and up to $4. a dozen for fresh free-range. And I'm glad to hear your reenforcement of my opinion that they are much more fragile than supermarket eggs: whites more delicate, and yolks break much easier when cooking "easy over". But well worth the pennies difference and the extra care in cooking.

I have never been turned down when I've requested a copy of the menu in France, with the single exception of La Regalade. Others, as mentioned before, usually arrive back at our table signed by the chef. Parenthetically, in the US, I always call ahead and have a copy of the menu faxed to us before visiting a restaurant. I've never tried to get one faxed to a hotel in France. Re photography in a dining room, we have never done it, and find it objectionable when obvious. But as Cabrales noted, and as we taught our son, you can do almost anything in a good dining room as long as you are totally unobtrusive.

What wonderful contributions to this thread! It's either the shopping list from heaven or hell! CABRALES: Will personally message Steve P. for address of Bernard Anthony, and will post if he comes across. GAVIN JONES: Cheese does not freeze well. There are major changes to the texture, most usually causing it to become grainy or to become crumbly. I always travel with zillions of assorted size ziploc bags. Don't even want to get into their universal usefulness. I do want to post again information regarding meat importation. I was under the impression that you could bring in any COMMERCIALLY CANNED MEAT PRODUCTS. This is not so! The last time we entered, I was told that you CAN NOT bring in meat from ruminants IN ANY FORM. This means that I could keep the canned whole foie gras, but would not have been able to keep any beef, veal, lamb, goat or deer product. And of course, you can never bring in as canned meat, such as cassoulet or confit, those cute, traditional glass jar/rubber ring products.

Sliding off topic to answer Toby: We fell in love with the Bulgarian Yogurt ice cream sold at the stand in the Jardin du Carrousel in the Louvre complex in Paris. Coming very close, and perhaps a tad better, is sweetened Byblos (brand) whole milk yogurt frozen in a Donvier or electric ice cream freezer. We use a cup of sugar to a quart of yogurt, and no additional flavorings. (We find that yogurt from a Middle East dairy is richer than those of standard American commercial yogurts.)

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.