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This great little bookstore in the 5ieme was one of a kind, and I'm wondering why it closed down a year or two ago...anyone have any inside info?

I'm looking forward to my trip to Paris at the end of this coming January. I just read about Rungis and now want to go check it out. Does anyone have advice on how to get in or who to contact to arrange a tour? I apologize if I asked this already, I'm so exhausted from remodeling my kitchen that I can't see straight. Hal

I am fixing a Sunday Brunch for a dear friend's birthday on Sunday (duh). She is an absolute freak about Coquille St. Jaques. My sister and I have looked at a few recipes and none of them seem just right. We could take what we think is good from each and come up with our own (a successful venture with other dishes) but I thought I would ask this august body of experts for their thoughts. Other items on the menu are likely to be a fruit cup, roasted asparagus (she loves that, too), french bread, champagne... what else? We probably won't do dessert because none of us are dessert eaters. We will probably go out shopping in Kemah and get a snowcone for a sweet later. Your eGullet brilliance, please!

Good evening. I moved to Paris 6 months ago. Survived the heat-wave and apartment hunt; finally am ready to start enjoying the city. I know nothing -- NOTHING -- about wine and am interested in learning the basics. Bought some books but would rather take a class. Could any of you recommend a good, very basic, introductory wine course that I could take to master the elementary lessons? Many thanks. Freckles in the 17th.

As tourists in France, we always have fun at the supermarkets. Their hypermarches are unbelievable. We thought we saw the best last year when we stumbled upon an Hyper U in Pertuis. This year, we found a Carrefour on the outskirts on Nice that takes the cake. It had about 75 aisles, selling everything and anything. The workers are, unsurprisingly, on rollerblades. A beautiful place. If this is not enough, there are about 80 more stores in the complex as concessions, selling more things, food courts, etc. The French CD selection is good, french music is difficult to get in the US; it is also fascinating to look at the way their products are packaged, merchandised, and the different styles of items-- we got some wine bottle closers that pump the air out, we got some plastic "boules" that you put in the freezer, use them like ice in drinks except they do not dilute the drink!! Also some ice cube plastic bags that you fill up and use instead of ice trays.... Cheeses are fun, not as high quality as a cheese shop, and the saucisson selection is terrific. (Bring Tums) The only weird thing about these mega-stores are the parking lots-- they do not build adequate parking lots for the size of the store and the traffic they bring. People are parked caddy-corner, every which way, it's a maze to find your way, and the cars there are a lot smaller than American cars!! Very odd!! Does anyone else feel the way we do about shopping in supermarkets while on vacation? Any good Supermarket stories?

I'm looking for recommendations for the best (and also the healthiest) cookbooks which are based on the cuisine of Alsace. Any advice please?

I decided to make couscous this weekend for a few friends. Normally this would involve five minutes work and a package of ‘instant’ couscous, as one of my friends would put it “This is the entire point of couscous, it’s better then pasta or rice because it involves no effort”. My friend is not a fan of ‘fancy’ cooking. I however, was curious to know how difficult it was to make couscous from scratch. So armed with instructions from Paula Wolfert’s “Mediterranean Grains and Greens” I set about obtaining the ingredients. No problem here, there are only two ingredients (or three if you count water) fine and coarse semolina. In the local Halal grocer I asked for the semolina, explaining that I was going to make couscous. Well this caused some confusion for the grocer, then great mirth. “Oh, you don’t make it, you use this instant couscous” and after explaining that I actually wanted to make it from scratch, “But, the instant is very good?”. Finally, after explaining that it wasn’t a matter the instant not being good, it to satisfying my curiosity. This the grocer could understand - I was clearly insane. Back in my kitchen, with the sound of a hysterically laughing Halal grocer echoing in my mind I questioned the wisdom of ‘Couscous venture 2003’, after all the only person I know to have made it from scratch, also mentioned a passing penchant for wearing pantaloons and listed horse-hair sieves as a vital part of kitchen equipment, I could see that this could be troublesome. Never the less, safe in the knowledge that my wife was at the gym for the next few hours and that any semolina disaster could be tidied/concealed before she can home I proceeded. Well, I followed the instructions. And do you know what? It was easy. Dead easy. Couscous makes it self. It transforms from flour to couscous before your eyes in such a way as to seem magical. I know the theory of how it works: the fine semolina flours binds to the individual grains of coarse flour, building up a tiny semolina pellet, as layers of semolina flour are added to the original semolina speck, in they same manner in which hailstones form. I know all this, but I still experienced a superstitious thrill from watching it occur. The first person to watch bread dough rise due to the action of yeast or taste fruit juice that had been tuned into wine by the same yeast must have experienced something similar. Roughly translated, this would be “Cool!”, possibly the response would have been even more enthusiastic in the latter case. Make couscous, it is easy and it is fun. It also tastes very good. Maybe, this is because of the pleasure derived from making it, but irrespective of this it tastes very good indeed.

BettyK's post sent me to my bookshelf where I found that Anne Willan's "La Varenne Practique" has double-truck charts that allow one to compare American and French animal breakdown. There are charts for veal, beef, lamb and pork. These excellent charts (American on one page, French on the opposite pate) are worth studying from the points of view of buying the meat called for in a French recipe as well as ordering off a French menu.

Does anyone know where in Paris I can buy a very large turkey to roast at Thanksgiving? Fresh or frozen, it doesn't matter. Thanks.

From The Guardian in London, in today's edition: Cuisine goes back to college Jon Henley in Paris Wednesday October 15, 2003 The Guardian Alarmed by a waning of France's global prestige in all things culinary, the government is to establish a university of gastronomy. "Haute cuisine these days is international: you can find great chefs and wine experts everywhere," Renaud Dutreuil, minister for consumer affairs and traditional businesses, told Le Parisien yesterday - acknowledging that, as gourmet tastes become ever more adventurous, many critics now say classic French cooking is crushed by tradition, and that better food can be eaten in Brussels, New York or even London. "France has to impose itself more visibly as the country of reference for taste," the minister said. "This university, the first of its kind in the world, will aim to do precisely that. It will become a sort of Harvard of taste." It opens next September at Reims in the Champagne country, and will accept 100 students - "French restaurateurs who hope to improve themselves, Americans in the food-processing business, great chefs from, say, Denmark or Japan" - for training in "arts of the table and French culinary history". Tutors would be historians, sociologists, chefs, biologists, and "great professionals in the trades of taste," the minister said. There would be offshoots for regional gastronomy and viticulture. "France is renowned for its cuisine, but it lacks a training tool to spread this knowledge across the world," Mr Dutreuil told the paper. "We need ambassadors who will represent our culinary heritage."

My friend just came back from France and brought me a huge back of herbes de Provence (150 grams), I have seen it called for in recipes before but have never actually used it......... What are some of your favorite uses?

This year's crop of Beaujolais Nouveau has been released today. Early reports have called it "sunny", a good vintage, helped by the "canicule" they had this summer; The ceremonial place for this unveiling is the town of Beaujeu, where 15,000 people gathered at 1 minute past midnight. Anybody have any hands-on comments about year's heralded vintage of BN?

A note on the window of one of the better local butchers: Dear Clients, we cannot pluck, skin, or gut your wild game - please go to a qualified veterinarian. And in France, if you need wild mushrooms identified - take them to the pharmacist. God, I love this country sometimes.

Has anyone seen a site or store for the chefs jacket designer called Alaine Robineau ?? Or seen any other good chefs jacket retailers and designers?

A few days ago I read an article on a new trendy "foodie" bookstore in Paris, in the 10th or 11th, called "Food", but I'm unable to find their address or contact number. Anyone been there or know anything about it?

Fellow foodies. I am contemplating a monumental (for me anyway) project- a Croquembouche. I was inspired by a recent wedding I attended and want to try it out for a few friends, one of whom is celecbrating a birthday. Ok, the profiterole part seems doable- it is the construction of the towering cone-of-cream puffs for which I seek tips before I embark on this laborious process. Also, is there anything I need to know about spinning caramel threads? Thanks!

Does anyone else make these at home? They're a staple in my house, and the deconstructed ingredients would form the basis of any Essentials list I might assemble. But ah, what ARE the ingredients. Bread, yes. Cheese, yes. Butter, yes. Ham or chicken, yes. But after that, the deluge. Bechamel? Mustard? And WHAT ABOUT Madame, is it chicken (instead of ham) or an egg (in addition to ham) that makes it Madame not Monsieur? And then, technique. Broiled, open-faced? Oven-toasted, closed? Dip the sandwich, as is occasionally suggested, in egg batter, getting close to what I know as a Monte Cristo (which has ham AND chicken, as well as cheese, inside). I don't always make them the same way, certainly partly because Croque Monsieur is a late-night lifesaver and often subject to stock on hand. Your thoughts, Hobson? Priscilla

Salut tout le monde, I had been invited by Mr. Buxbaum to contribute to the French message board here on EGullet. I suppose he felt that an American cook working in a Michelin two star French kitchen (Provencal to be more precise) could be of some value. I hope the rest of you share his opinion. I guess an introduction of myself is in order. I am a second generation Korean American born and raised in So Cal, who after receiving a double degree in English and Economics from UCLA, decided he would rather hang up the cap and gown for a toque and apron. Actually, its amazing that I graduated at all since I spent more time watching the Food Network and/or reading cookbooks than attending lectures or reading textbooks (an exaggeration that isn't too far from the truth). Yet, like many of the recently graduated, I found the "real" world a bit too harsh to jump right into-- afterall, I was just "deconstructing" the parables of Kierkegaard, Kafka and Nietsche, how could you expect me to peel 30 lbs of potatoes, strain 12 gallons of chicken stock and/or peel and devein 10 lbs of shrimp. So I did like many disconcerted graduates do-- I continued onto "higher education", but unlike them, I wasn't pursuing the masters or Phd from an acclaimed univerisity, I was pursuing a clearer consomme, a more uniform cut, a more sensible garnish from a cooking school. However, I didn't opt for the highly regarded Culinary Arts Degree from Johnson and Wales or the CIA--frankly I had enough student loans to contend with, and cook's just don't get paid all that much-- I opted for a small cooking school with a knowledgable professor who had strong connections with Wolfgang Puck (if all I learned from college was that it isn't what you know but who you know, I learned enough). Thus, even before I finished cooking school, I began working at Chinois on Main (Wolfgang Puck's Asian-inspired restaurant in Santa Monica), as a line cook. This career student was tired of being broke (as a matter of fact, I'm still tired of being broke)--plus, I finally realized that there was no better classroom than on the job training, especially when it comes to cooking. I liken it to any performing art (especially sports); there is a rhythem, a sense of timing that can only be fine tuned under the pressure of performance-- under the heat of service. Speaking of heat, my first station can be compared to life on the planet Mercury. I started at the grill station, where 60 lbs of red hot mesquite radiates temperatures that only the most evil people feel in their illfated afterlife. Great for searing steaks and grill marking salmon, but murder on one's complexion. Needless to say, after a year on the grill, I was ready (with skin on my hands that could be made into cowboy boots) to change stations. If murdering lobsters is considered a sin, I will be condemned to eternity on the grill. Chinois on Main is famous for its Curried Lobster, where I cut in half, seared and shelled an average of 30 lobsters a night--most always each a la minute. One can tell when a cook has been working the lobster station for an extended period of time, he/she has a callous where the back end of there weapon of choice (usually a 10 inch chef's knife) has aggravated the skin just under there cutting hand's index finger. Afterwards, a six month stint working the pantry (appetizer station, or garde manger in French) and another six month stint working as Chinois' butcher/day time prep, and I felt I had the experience, and most importantly the knife/cooking skills to head to France. I researched the employment scene here in France and the proposition of finding a good restaurant which would accept an American cook with very rusty French language skills and found it very near implausible. First you have to find a chef who would go through all the red tape (and in France, if you've ever read Kafka, its all about bureaucracy); add in the fact that there is double digit unemployment and that equals big time obstacles. Thank goodness for connections. Here is were Wolfgang stepped in. As it turned out, he had done an apprenticeship at a famous Michelin three star (at the time) in Provence, Oustau de Baumaniere. Having kept in contact with the owner/chef, Jean Andre Charial over the years, it was just a matter of a phone call, a fax and some emails, and voila, a staggaire's poistion at a highly acclaimed French restaurant-- a dream come true. Well I wished it was that easy. If you ever ask a favor from a chef, you'd better be able to repay, or in my case, prepay it tenfold. Before I was to leave for France, I had to work, in my opinion, the lowest of low positions (which didn't require me to wash dishes) at Spago, Beverly Hills. Of course, one could be stuck, peeling potatoes or washing lettuce, but at least it wasn't cooking 30 lbs of potatos (20 lbs of russet for the aligot, and 10 lbs of yukon gold, for the garlic mashed potatos)--a proposition which requires cutting the potatos into equally sized pieces, constant stirring, heavy lifting (and I thought I knew how to mash potatoes-- was I ever wrong), passing all the potatoes through a ricer, stirring in cream, butter, salt and pepper, to achieve a lump free, and grit free mashed potato that was worthy of fine dining. Well, it sounds easier than it is, and when my chef de partie told me my mashed potatoes were overcooked and that I had to start all over again, I nearly took my first life (I could have killed him or myself). Well with newly found muscles, which ached for weeks to come, I thought I had paid my dues, but as the old Chinese saying goes, "Oh, so sorry." Wolfgang had decided that I was to cook for him. The Austrian accented voice went something like, "I have to know how you cook before I can send you to France. I am free after lunch service tommorrow, sometime around one (o'clock). Make me three things and cook everything here", to which I reply, "But I am scheduled to work tommorrow at 3 (o'clock PM)," to which he frankly replied, "Thats your problem." Oh, by the way, this all occured at eleven P.M., just after I finished my shift and was saying my goodbyes. Obviously, I didn't get much sleep-- researching recipes til 4:30 in the morning and then waking up at 6:30 to go an Asian Market and then off to Spago to start cooking. Remarkably, I wasn't the first person in Spago that morning, but the place was near empty. I got to work right away, and by the time Wolfgang came to see me, it was about one o'clock. I vividly remember his words, "I'm hungry, when are you going to be ready?"; translation, "on your marks, GO (there was no time to get set)!" I prepared three Korean inspired dishes: Korean beef barbeque lettuce wrap with mung been sprout salad, seared black bass in a spicy Korean red sauce atop braised daikon radish, and butter poached lobster in a Kafir lime leaf lobster sauce accompanied by Korean pancakes and avocado. Fortunately, I had adequate time to prepare, unfortunately, there were still lunch orders coming in and I had to share burners with the other cooks--very cramp. After much apologizing and excuse mes, the last of the three dishes went out, and I sighed a sigh of relief; a shortlived relief which ended when the waiter returned stating, "Wolfgang would like you to prepare an three egg omelet with smoked salmon." Talk about out of left field, I was definately illprepared. I knew how I liked omelets, but I didn't know the "fine dining" version. I lightly scrambled the eggs, incorporated some heavy cream, found a nonstick skillet and began slowly cooking and scraping (don't know a better word) the omelet with a rubber spatula, which helps to build volume and to evenly cook the eggs. When the omelet started to become opaque, I added the smoked salmon, flipped the omelet into a halfmoon, added a dallop of creme fraiche and garnished it with some minced dill. Boy was I proud of that omelet (until recently, when I discovered the French do it entirely different-- a matter for another post). After I cleaned up, the same waiter came back and told me to go to Wolfgang's table. I was surprised to see Wolfgang wasn't alone-- there sat Lee Hefter, head chef of Spago, and Matt (the sous chef, who's last name I can't remember). Lee was the first to speak, saying something like, "(Y)ou know how to cook Korean, so I guess its about time you learned to cook French. The dishes were excellent and the black bass was cooked to perfection. Congratulte yourself." Then Wolfgang chimed in, "I remember the first time I worked in a restaurant, the chef told me to cook an egg; so as you can imagine, I was so nervous. I cooked it and it had bubbles around the edges. He took one look at it and through it on the floor. 'You cannot cook a simple egg,' he told me, 'how do you expect to work here.' I was terrified." I didn't know exactly what to take from his story at the time, but I was generally encouraged by the whole experience. Although now, I understand that was Wolfgang's way of saying, you think its tough here, well wait until you work in Europe/France. Words of a prophet. Having been working at Baumaniere for nine months, I can now comprehend the full magnitude of Wolfgang's brief anecdote. My second day at Baumaniere found me making nearly one thousand chicken, leek and truffle filled raviolis. My hands are calloused but not blisterproof-- a fact that the ravioli cutter (a cookie cutter thing) pounded home after my first couple hours of ravioli limbo (9 hours a day for four days sraight). It was great because I had never seen that many truffles (slices) in my life, and my hands were fragrant with its precious aroma-- a peculiar juxtapostion to the blisters. My first month found me doing all manner of menial tasks-- va chercher this, va chercher that, lave this, coupe that, depeche toi, plus vite and toute de suite. I didn't gain any ground in the hierarhcy until the demi chef de partie garde manger, a Japanese staggaire, decided he wanted to learn another station some three months later. To my delight, and now regret, I took over the more demanding position in the French manner, toute de suite. I say regret because with all the authority I now have over all the other commis and apprentices, I have that much more responsibility-- a fact my chef de partie never lets me forget. Plus, I take over as chef de partie when my chef isn't there, which he hasn't been for the last two weeks (a cooking event with the gourmet food outlet, Marshall Field, in the Great Lakes region). The brief breakdown of this means I had just spent three consecutive weeks without a day off, working some 80+ hours a week. I guess when your the American staggaire who doesn't get paid by the hour, they can go ahead and work you to death. What exascerbated my predicament was the day before my chef left, the menu underwent its spring makeover-- I had to start everything from scratch. Plus, the sous chef in charge of creating the menu never ceases to change the dishes--eradicating every ounce of comfort I have with the daily mis en place (means everything in its place, a culinary term for all of your daily preperations) and I have to come up with one new amuse bouche (any little taste that will fit on a spoon) and three new mis en appetit (three small bowls filled usually with a soup, a puree, a gellee or any daily inspired creation) everyday. A daunting task when one considers I worked with one other cooking student/apprentice the entire time (it still being the offseason, we are highly understaffed). Wow, I feel a whole lot better now that I got that off my chest I really am joking when I say regret because I truly value my experience here. If one looks at the bright side, I have a nice small room with a closet, bed and sink, partake two edible meals a day, receive a bit of pocket change for all my efforts and normally get a day and a half off everyweek. OK, without being facetious, I am in a region where excellent olive oil is grown and pressed, where good Appelation Les Baux de Provence wines are produced and where fresh French baguettes are baked daily-- a gourmand's dream come true. Also, I get to play around with some amazing ingredients, cook through a portion of Paul Bocuse's ancient tome, "Paul Bocuse, La Cuisine du Marche," (although I do take tremendous liberties in its interpretation)* and work on my chef skills (especially the yelling--its hard to get these apprentices motivated otherwise). Plus, I get my monthly quota of travel in. Oh yeah, did I mention that Baumaniere has one of the largest and finest collections of French wines in the world-- 3rd largest restaurant wine list in all of France--well that was before the the 2002 New Years Eve fire ransacked a small portion of the wine cellar. Luckily, as far as I know, all the fine Bordeaux and Burgundies were left intact. With that to chew on, I hope I can add a welcome perspective to a well coordinated and interesting message board. Thanks for reading, Simon Sunwoo *Having read some of the other posts, there seems to be a generally negative view of Bocuse's cuisine. Is it too antiquated or stagnant? Am I missing something here, because it is highly regarded by most of my colleagues?

What's your favorite combination? Nina mentioned apple clafoutis. I tried one a while ago, it was great, although i put too much sage in it. My two favorite ones are "rosemary maple pear" from Herbfarm cookbook, and "plum brown butter" from "Second Helping From Union Square Cafe". Both recipes produced non-soggy clafoutis, which is a virtue, since so many recipes suffer from this sogginess. Maybe one of the solutions is to put clafoutis in some sort of crust, as Vongerichten does in his "Simple to Spectacular"? Actually, here is the related question: can you take a tart recipe and convert it to flan by bypassing a crust? Sometimes it works, sometimes not.

Michael Buller's "French Chefs Cooking" contains the recipe that Bocuse recorded for F Point's "veritable gratin dauphinois" or potato gratin: Ingredients were: 1 clove finely chopped garlic, 2.75 lbs peeled and thinly sliced (Bocuse himself recommends 12/100 of an inch thick) potatoes, 2 large eggs, 0.75 cup of whole milk, 2-3 tablespoons of heavy cream or creme fraiche, pinch of freshly grated nutmeg, salt and ground white pepper to taste, 3.5 tablespoons butter. Preat oven to 350F. Rub the sides of a large enamelled or cast-iron oveproof dish with the garlic clove and butter liberally. Lay thin layers of potatoes on the dish. In a separate bowl, combine the eggs, milk, cream, grated nutmeg, salt and pepper in a mixing bowl and whisk. Spread a thick coating of this mixture over the potatoes in the dish, adding some knobs of butter. Bake for around 45 minutes, or until the potatoes are slightly brown. Open the oven door ajar and let the dish set for a few minutes. Serve very hot. ___________________ Note that F Point resisted the inclusion of cheese in his potato gratin. Buller also notes that some chefs perceive the type of potato as significant. Jean and Pierre Troisgros recomend the French BF 15 potato. Chefs also differ as to the amount of eggs: two eggs (Point and Mere Brazier), 1 egg (Escoffier), and no eggs (Troisgros, Chapel). Escoffier and Bocuse did not recommend the inclusion of cream, according to the book. Have members made a potato gratin using the recipes of the above-described chefs?

I'm trying to perfect my "cake aux olives". I collected quite a number of recipes, and some of them call for sashet/packet de levure chimique. Can somebody tell me how much it will be in grams or spoons? thanks.

I love Tarte Tatin and was dissapointed with what I ate around Paris. I do not remember going to any special place looking for it, but tried it in several bistros. My fault I assume. Where does one get a great Tarte Tatin in Paris? Does anyone know?

Someone was telling me about a cheese that they learned about from france. Something about it having maggots in it or something. Its supposed to be like the worst smelling cheese on the planet. Is there any truth to this or was he just pulling my leg? Im goign to do some research to find out if its true but please if anyone knows what im talking about please let me know.

Sometimes on monday morning,during the few hours where I don't work I like walking in the 16th district of Paris,especialy "à la muette",where I was living many years. I've discovered a japanese shop (without mistake of myself it is called yamasaki). Here you'll find some delicious macaroons,pure ,with lemon,with pistachio nut,and others---- Really very good! This shop is one of my favorites! I think that the macarroons are back in style and it gave me an idea by creating a recipe of macarroons. I thank you of this reading. The macaroons with pralines Mix 5 ounces of broken pralines with 7 ounces of granulated sugar. Mix it with 2 white eggs whisked with cream. Make little heaps of paste on a plate garnished with aluminium paper. Roast thermostat 2,for 25 to 30 minutes. Then put the aluminium paper on a wet pastry board,the wetness being capable to unstick the macaroons. It tastes even better with orange tea. The result is quite good,but I am so gourmand! I tank you of this reading.

Ever since I read & saw pictures of the recent NY Bread Event thread, I've been dreaming of Toby's Pork Belly Rillettes. How does one make rillettes? Toby and others, would you be willing to share your recipe and technique? I would love to try this. Thanks.