chez pim

Yellowtail ceviche and Punta Lobos revisited

This post could be called, à la Friends, The One In Which Pim Drives A Hummer And Bargains For Dead Fish.

Punta Lobos is a beach just south of Todos Santos, near the tip of the Baja Peninsula, where day-boat fishermen come in to sell their very freshly caught fish to local restaurants and villagers nearby. I'd been dreaming about getting back to Punta Lobos since Paolo took me there two years ago.

Day two of our Mexico trip, I was so itching to get to Punta Lobos to see what they've got but I just couldn't seem to get any of the boys to drive me. David conveniently disappeared with his surfboard somewhere on the beach in front of the house we rented – ok, this was his annual surfing trip so I let him off. Our friend Daniel had his nose so far buried in a book he pretended not to hear my plea altogether. Not nice.

Nevermind, I thought. I knew this town well enough - been here like twice already - I was going to figure this out myself. The house we rented was just ten-fifteen minutes south of the town of Todos Santos, and I knew that Punta Lobos was somewhere between the house and town. How hard could that be? I just have to find the dirt road leading to that beach somewhere on the stretch of ten kilos between our house and the town. I'd figure it out somehow!

Then there was the problem with the car. Well, calling it - that thing we rented from the airport in Cabo - a car would have been an understatement - a monumental one. We rented a Hummer. Yes we did. Sorry mommy earth. We didn't intend to, really. There were five of us, plus multiple bags and two surfboards. Basically all they had that would fit all of us and our stuff was that Hummer and a gawdawful-looking van that would fit twelve! So the Hummer it was. And it proved to be quite handy when we found that the road leading into the luxury house we rented wasn't so much a road as a dried up riverbed, an arroyo as they call it down there.

Feliz año nuevo from Todos Santos

Just a quick happy first day of the year wish from Todos Santos - well, Pescadero, to be more precise.

I wish all your days to be as happy and bright as this morning here in Mexico. We're trotting off to the beach in a minute, but now that we've got the wifi going (thanks Stellah) I'll even be blogging (for a change)!

Chilaquiles: another breakfast of champions

My favorite breakfast in Mexico, Chilaquiles - quite possibly the best use of stale tortilla chips, ever. I have no idea how this is made. I vaguely suspect heating the day-old chips in some sort of smoky chile sauce. The Chilaquiles I've had often have bits of queso fresco crumbled in and hidden, half melted, in the soft yet crunchy layers of chips. There's also sour cream, and perhaps even some onions. And eggs, on the side, of course.

I have to learn how to do this. Does anyone have a good recipe?

an elegant solution

In my previous life I worked in design research, obsessively trying to devise elegant solutions to complex problems. Old habits die hard, so it makes me happy every time I come across an elegant solution, especially in an unexpected place like in San Jose del Cabo, Mexico. Ok, this wasn't exactly as elegant a solution as the fly-in-the-urinal at Schiphol airport in Amsterdam* but it's pretty darn good.

I'm talking about a simple coconut cart I found in a strip mall just outside of San Jose last week. They sell coconut meat and coconut water. Instead of using a clunky and often unhygienic machete to lop off the top of a coconut to get to the sweet water inside, this little cart presents a lovely solution to the mess. The cart comes equipped with a lever and a sort of probe. Place a coconut under it, pull the lever, the probe goes in and drills a hole, with ease to boot. Take the coconut, invert it over this thingy that drains the water into a machine that instantaneously cools it. Now the refreshing coconut water can be poured and sold by the glass or in liter bottles. Brilliant. Just brilliant.

recognition

When you travel as much as I do, a familiar face is always a welcome sight. Even if the face belongs to someone you don't even know.

Almost two years ago I went to the big food market in San Remo, Italy -just over the border from Southern France. I took a photo of a woman selling produce in the farmers' section of the market, where small farmers –mostly old ladies- sell produce they've grown themselves. She had a small, unexceptional stall selling a mound of potatoes and a few heads of curly Savoy cabbage: it was November and the pickings were slim. I took a shot –she looked away, playing coy for the camera, smiling only after the camera dropped back around my neck. It was one unremarkable shot amongst the hundreds I took that day.

Artichoke, by any other name

(If you are reading this post on a RSS reader, you might want to click through to Chez Pim for the slideshow.)

Thorny artichokes, l'artichauts épineux, épines, carciofi, these artichokes go by quite a few names around the Mediterranean. I was duly impressed the first time I saw them at the big market in San Remo a couple years ago. I'd never seen artichokes with such intimidating thorns before. They are vindictive little buggers too –and this I speak from first hand experience trimming them. I still go ouch every time I pick one up. You know, a little pre-emptive cry for the inevitable future.

According to many chefs and serious foodies I know –and the French Wikipedia even agrees- these thorny artichokes are perhaps the tastiest of all the artichoke varieties. Hence the thorns as a defensive measure, perhaps? In France they are found around Nice and the surrounding areas, whereas in Italy they appear to be everywhere –though the size (hence frightfulness) of the thorns varies some. Beside the deadly thorns, these artichokes are also marked by the gorgeous violet/lavender streaks and the shape that is more elongate and conical than the usual round Globe artichokes common in the US.

I'm not going to give you a primer on trimming an artichoke. Frankly I avoid that kitchen chore whenever I can. But my friend Sam at Becks and Posh did a lovely illustrated post on this very topic a while ago so go and check her out.

How do you cook these artichokes (or any artichoke) you wonder? When we were on our cooking vacation –is there a different kind?- in Mougins a while back, our friend Mikael did his take on the classic Provençale dish of Mediterraean Seabass and Artichokes for us. I've worked out a recipe here for you to try.

Seabass and poached artichokes in mandarin-olive oil emulsion
For 4

Socca à Nice: how to eat and run on the Côte d'Azur

(If you are reading this post on a RSS reader, you might want to click through to Chez Pim for the slideshow.)

Have you tried Socca? If you've been to the South of France, especially in Nice, you must have at least seen it. Socca is ubiquitous 'street' food in those parts. Made primarily with chickpea flour and olive oil –ingredients plentiful around the Mediterranean- Socca is a quick, cheap, and delightful snack common not only on the French part of the coast but all the way into Liguria in Italy, where it goes by the name Farinata.

Finding a good Socca in Nice is a matter of 'when' rather than 'where' –that is to say there is not a huge variance in quality between all the Socca places in town. It's just a couple ingredients for goodness sake. The key is to get it as it comes right out of the oven. If you happen upon a Socca joint that's just pulled one of those giant round pan out of their brick oven, be sure to get a portion and enjoy. That place, ladies and gentleman, is quite possibly the best Socca joint in town at that very moment.

The 'correct' Socca –as this is France there is a 'correct' way and 'incorrect' way to do everything- is not wafer thin or crispy like chips. It should be more like a thin pancake that is crisp at the edges, with burnt blisters in places.

I found a recipe that makes Socca that most closely resemble the ones I've had in Nice. And just like Proust's Madeleine, a bite of this Socca transports me right back to the crowded streets of Old Nice. Ok, I was just there not too many days ago, so it's not like the transport had far to go, but quand même!

a pig, as seen in Vieux Nice

Buona Pasqua

It's a little late to be wishing you happy easter, I know. But that's where I was, for the last -blissfully (if unintentionally) internet-free- ten days, spending Easter and the surrounding days in the wilds of Southern Italy. I was also in Nice and around the Cote d'Azur, and a mini detour up north to Padova for a lovely restaurant.

Lots of pictures and words to come. If you can wait a couple more days. :-)

Another reason I love Gascony: Grattons de Canard

(If you are reading this post on an RSS reader, you might want to click through to Chez Pim for the slideshow.) Grattons de Canard. Quite possibly the most perfect food. Period.

What is it, you asked? Grattons is normally made of pork fat. Grattons de Canard -or Fritons as they say in Lyon, apparently- is made of, yes, duck. In fact, it's made of duck fat and skin whose fat has been rendered in the process of making confit. The partially rendered skin and fat solids are then ground up and formed into a terrine.

Marthe Delon, the legendary truffle hunter and her pig Kiki

(If you are reading this post on an RSS reader, you might want to click through to Chez Pim for the slideshow.)

This is Madame Marthe Delon. The name is Delon, comme Alain Delon, she said, flashing a big smile and her one remaining brown, crooked tooth. Next to her is Kiki, the most recent in the long line of Kikis. She's a truffle hunter and a pig trainer. Kiki is a truffle pig. And they are both legendary.

Though looking ever-so-perfect for the part of a French country woman she could have been cast out of Hollywood, Mme.Delon is hardly a guileless peasant. She's been interviewed on television and in magazines the world over. I watched her hold court in front of journalists and a gaggle of curious visitors, witty and unflappable, even with Kiki pushing her trying to get into her skirt and apron where she hid the truffle scented cat food she used to train the piggy. She's one remarkable woman.

By the time Kate and I arrived, Kiki had already finished showing off by digging up truffles hidden in the ground. We waited for everyone to leave and followed Mme.Delon to the house for a chat and some prunes. I should tell you: this is why I've fallen head-over-heel in love with Southwest France. Here people don't invite you to their house for coffee. They tell you to come for pruneaux. And by prunes they actually mean a little bit of prune soaked in a lot of Armagnac, or better yet, that positively flammable Eau de Vie.

You might wonder how we managed this visit. By pure luck, I'd say. Kate and I had lunch at the famous café called le Lion d'Or, where everyone comes for omelette aux truffes (truffle omelette) before the Lalbenque truffle market opens. Sitting at the table adjacent to us were two local men: a nut merchant who also does some business in truffles and his friend. They are both called Bernard. We call them les deux Bernards, the two Bernards. We struck up a conversation, and they ended up taking us around in the market for a truffle-buying lesson. They told us about this old mamie who trains pigs, and agreed to take us there for a visit.

the baskets of Lalbenque

(If you are reading this post on an RSS reader, you might want to click through to Chez Pim for the slideshow.)

Continuing on the theme of memorable things from the Lalbenque truffle market, from the faces of the people, whose every wrinkle tells a story, and now to little baskets of treasure. The truffle hunters from areas all around Lalbenque, and some as far south as the Midi, came to market with little paniers or baskets full of treasures, demurly hidden in multi-colored kitchen towels. Walking around the market, it's these baskets -some handsome, some old, some new, some quite wretched workmanship, and others a marvel of homemade glory- that were sometimes even more interesting than the treasured content within.

Michelin Guide France 2007, really out

Now Michelin news is really out. The official Press Release came out yesterday, pretty much confirming the news that was leaked by François Simon (and reported here) early this month. The only place that Simon was off was Hélène Darroze getting a third star, which turns out to not to be the case.

So, the official new three stars are the following:

L'Astrance, Pascal Barbot and Christophe Rohat
Le Meurice, Yannick Alléno
Le Pré Catelan, Frédéric Anton
Pic, Anne Sophie Pic
Lameloise, Jacques Lameloise (regained the third star they lost few years ago)

The faces of Lalbenque

(If you are reading this post on an RSS reader, you might want to click through to Chez Pim for the slideshow.)

Kate and I went to the truffle market at Lalbenque yesterday. And what a day it was, filled of amazing discoveries and deliciousness. But perhaps the most striking part of the experience was the faces of the people we encountered. Here are some of them that I can share.

Where is Paris?

(If you are reading this post on Bloglines, you might want to click through to Chez Pim for the slideshow.)

Where is Paris again? I seem to have forgotten. I came down to Gascony to visit Kate for the weekend, and now I might be staying forever. Well, perhaps not for ever, but for another week until I have to get back to London.

I am in a stone house dating back to the 1600's, in a charmed room with a view of the garden, the canal, and Kate's lived-in houseboat There's a clawfoot tub in my room, where I take my bath every night before bed, and a round wooden table by the window where I write, inspired by the fog creeping in over the landscape. There's also a door that opens to nowhere, and a fleeting spectre of a lady in white just turning around the corner.

We celebrated Chinese New Year Saturday night, with a charmed circle of friends Kate has cultivated, winemakers, poétesse, playwright, artists, cooks, writers, gardeners, and more. Lucy, having spent a few years working in China, made delightful chinese dumplings (the recipe and detailed instructions can be found on her blog.) I made beggar's rice -or perhaps to be appropriately fortuitous for the new year I should call it generosity rice- which was an impromptu recipe composed entirely of borrowed ingredients.

But for you-know-who waiting for me in California, I might never leave here, ever.

Self-portrait of a blogger

Where in the world is Pim?

(If you are reading this post on Bloglines, you might want to click through to Chez Pim for the slideshow.)

...in an old farmhouse in Gascony, eating locally raised ducks -with skin and fat a half inch thick- roasted in an open fireplace. More cooking in Gascony, and a visit to the truffle market, later.

Galatoire's

Josh and David decided that my one formal meal in New Orleans would be at Galatoire's. So on the second night of our quick three-day trip, Jill and I, and even the boys, got all dolled up and went down to the Quarter.

Galatoire's is where people in New Orleans go to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, their daughters' Sweet Sixteen Parties, and whatever special occasions life throw at them. This is the kind of place that is at once grandiose and uncouth, not unlike the city of New Orleans herself.

We sat in the raucous downstairs dining room, not the newer and posher one upstairs. That's the way to do it, the two New Orleans boys Josh and David insisted. We had made a reservation, of course, in the wonderfully quirky reservation system that they have. At Galatoire's one doesn't call the restaurant for a reservation. One calls one's favorite waiter, who would make certain there is a table waiting on arrival.

A day at the races

We spent the afternoon at the race today -plenty of new things to learn for me, exacta, trifacta, words that probably sound a lot more interesting in the New Orleans accent than they actually are.

We also had lunch here, and being that this is food-focused New Orleans, the food was not bad at all. We had a good crab cake, decent shrimp cocktail, delicious gumbo, and a rather odd sounding Corned Beef Po' Boy that David gobbled all up before I could taste.

There's even an oyster bar right there, on the race track. Only in New Orleans.

scenes from New Orleans

Here are a few scenes from New Orleans. More later.

chez Josh in New Orleans

(The photos with me in it are by our friend Jill Dupré)

We arrived late this afternoon to New Orleans. And I found myself immediately installed in the kitchen cooking for ten. We are celebrating tonight, a visit that's two years overdue for me, and a homecoming of sort for David. We are at a gorgeous old house belonging to Josh, David's old school friend, and Jill, his lovely wife.

How to buy fish (and cook Paella) in Mexico

Earlier this year we went down to Todos Santos to visit our friend Joe who spends a couple of months every winter there. Joe's new house was still being built, so we stayed at his friend Paolo, who has a spare studio that he sometimes rents to friends. The house is beautiful, just outside of town, and conveniently locates near Joe's property

An Italian expat and a retired chef, Paolo is something of an aging Anthony Bourdain character. Chain-smoking and opinionated, especially when it comes to food, he even looks like Bourdain, or perhaps how Bourdain might look in ten years or so. Paolo moved with his Spanish Basque wife to Todos Santos over a decade prior to take over the chef position at the fancy Café Santa Fe in town. Like Bourdain, or perhaps like cooks everywhere, Paolo had a certain appreciation for fellow cooks and so got along famously with David.

We woke up in the mornings during our stay not only to find perfect coffee made in a proper Moka pot, but sometimes even some freshly made Rosquilla to accompany it. Joe told me that Paola -having spent a few years in Spain with his wife- makes a killer Paella. So we agreed to make it for our last dinner there.

On our last day, David went off to surf as usual. I remained at the house to help Paolo with the preparation for our Paella. Around three o'clock Paolo came around to fetch me. It's time to go get some fish, he said.

The fat edition

How can you not love a market where you can buy goose fat by the tin? And duck fat too. Where's the market, you asked? Why, Borough, of course. Goose fat makes superb fries, and so does duck fat, although the best oil for fries, I must say, is horse fat.

When we were in the South of France last year, my friend Mikael sourced some horse fat and we cooked up some french fries -ahem, frites- in it. Gloriously beautiful fries we got from that rendered horse fat.

Eat My Blog sidebar update

The Eat My Blog sidebar on the right has been updated with photo sets from recent meals, including Mugaritz and L'Astrance. No details yet though, I haven't managed to write them up. But if you are in for some unadulterated food porn then look to the right sidebar chez moi and click away.

Off now to lunch at Etxebarri. See you again soon.

Alan Richman goes to Chicago

Alan Richman goes to Chicago and pronounces it the 2nd city no more.

"Something is happening in Chicago, where most of us believe nothing unexpected ever takes place. It’s revelatory and special, a likely new direction for American food."

Check out his article, it might inspire you to take a flight to Chicago for a meal or two, or three.

And what about me, you asked? Well, I'm packing my bag for Paris, leaving in just over a week.

Frankly, I have no opinion on the three restaurants Mr.Richman wrote about: Alinea, Moto, and Avenues. I remain curious about Grant Achatz's Alinea, though still haven't managed a meal there yet. I ate Grant Achatz's food at Trio and had a lovely meal. Reports from friends who have been to Moto are mixed, but I am a little curious about that place too. I'm completely agnostic on Avenues.

P.S. Joy and Fatimeh went to Alinea and both went gaga over Grant's food, by the way.

"The Best Place to Buy Your Pacojet and Cubebe Peppers": IFFA 2006

No, despite the reputation of this blog, a Pacojet is not the kind of jet that can set you somewhere, although it has been referred to as the Ferrari of kitchen toys. It is an ice-cream maker extraordinaire, making sorbets so light you'd think you are eating the cloud. It costs $3,000. And the best place to buy it is at Le Sanctuaire in Santa Monica.

And, no, the Pacojet isn't there merely because it is expensive. This is not that kind of a store. The Pacojet is there because it is the best specimen of its kind. That is how so many wonderful and unusual kitchen objects in Le Sanctuaire found their way into the store.

It is also how the Cubebe peppers made it here. Jing Tio, the owner of Le Sanctuaire, had been working with a farmer in Surabaya who grew a variety of peppers for his store, including the rare Cubebe peppers, when the old farmer decided to call it quit. The quality of peppers that the farm produced was so good that Jing and his family decided to take it over. Now he sells the amazing and exotic peppers from his own farm at his store and directly to the likes of Alain Ducasse.

It is this kind of dedication -this near madness pursuit of the absolute best- that convinced me to give them my Independent Food Festival Award this year. The Indenpendent Food Festival and Awards 2006, in case you didn't know already, is organized by Hillel of Tasting Menu, with Food Bloggers from all over the world giving their votes to the best of everything relating to good eating and cooking. Last year, my award went to June Taylor's Candied Seville Peel in Rose Geranium Syrup. This year, it goes to Le Sanctuaire, for being the rarest and most amazing kind of cookery shop.

What else might you find at Le Sanctuaire, you asked?

If it's Friday it must be airport, and where to eat in San Jose del Cabo

Just another day in a life of a veritable vagrant, this morning saw me back at the airport, sitting at the California Pizza kitchen -the least of all evils- chowing on a salad. Yes, I am off again. This time a little farther afield, all the way to Thailand. It has been two years since the last time, overdue really.

I am on assignment, for a rather grand magazine even. I'm not just going there for the assignment though, there are family to see and friends to play with and yummy things to eat and new old dishes to learn. It should be fun –the usual family entanglement notwithstanding.

I'm planning quite a roller coaster ride, from fancy western dégustation menus, to rarefied Thai meals, on the table, the kitchen floor, the street and everywhere in between. You are very welcome to come with me. Some of those juicy details, naturally, you'd have to wait to read about in said magazine, but there will be plenty others fun things to go around. It's not like they'd let me fill up an entire issue's worth of materials. Or would they? Perhaps I should have asked?

But before we get to Thailand, I promised you some fun stuff from my trip to Mexico last week. We were in Baja California, our second time in less than six months. David goes to surf, I go to lie around in the sun. In the summer we were over on the Sea of Cortez side, staying in San Jose del Cabo –the quieter, more genteel neighbor of Cabo San Lucas. In the winter we followed the wind and the surf to the other side, staying over in Todos Santos.

Back from Todos Santos

We spent five wonderful days in lovely Todos Santos. I did absolutely nothing, mostly sun bathing on the beach while David surfed. We stayed at a great little place owned by an Italian guy called Paolo, a friend of our friend Joe of Dirty Girl farm.

I think we may have just found the best carnitas on earth. We also had some great ceviche, and even a seriously delicious paella valenciana made by Paolo, who's an ex Italian cook married to a Spanish woman from Burgos. So, at his house we had Illy coffee with the spanish cookie Rosquilla. How fun! For the paella Paolo and I went to Punta Lobos to buy fish right from the fisherman's boat, fighting off pelicans as we picked and chose our fish.

This trip is worth quite a few posts. Check back tomorrow to see where that best carnitas on earth could be found!

What dreams may come..

So my computer is dead. I was hoping to spend this quiet Sunday catching up on blogging and email (which has about a few weeks worth of backlog due to accessive traveling combined with laziness). Alas, it is not to be. My little computer went to sleep last night, and this morning it refused to wake up, no matter how I pleaded. Luckily I've spent the last day or two uploading recent photos into my flickr, so you could at least occupy yourselves with them until -or should I say if- my computer returns to life.

The first photo on this slide show was one of my favorite dishes of our shopping/cooking trip to the South. At the wonderful fish market in Ventimiglia, we found some anchovies so fresh they were practically breathing still. I couldn't help but bought some. When we got back to the house in Mougins, David set about fileting them with expert precision, then he cured them for a couple of hours, covering up the filets entirely in gray salt. We served them as the first course with a splash of good olive oil and some fennel flowers that we found in the garden. Simple, and just delicious. Click on the photo to see more of our cooking fun. Also, I've put up two other photo sets, from our trips to Ventimiglia market and San Remo market in Italy.

à bientôt...I hope. Wish me luck.

----------------------
Update!

Good news, my computer isn't dead after all. I walked all the way over to David L's penthouse to see if he could help resuscitate my baby, and as it turned out, it's not my computer that's dead, it's my power adapter. Silly me. So tomorrow I will find a new power supply, and for now I only have a couple hours on this battery to catch up on a few things. More posts on the French and Italian riviera and also many more on the week in Burgundy up soon, I promise.

Urasawa dinner

If it´s Saturday ít´s El Bulli

about to catch the train from Barcelona, making my way slowly down to El Bulli.

I don´t think I´ll have internet access again until back in Paris on Monday. promise to blog more, and more regularly, then.

Best/Worst food moments of 2004

Continuing on the tradition I began last year, here's the Best/Worst food moments of 2004:

Best overall food experience: Food blogging on Chez Pim

Best food shopping moment: A mad race across Paris in imaginary matching-colored scooters with Lynn and Matt to buy more honey from Jean Paul Couto at the marché bio on Blvd.Raspail. (more on this later)

Most fun cooking: Another Thai feast for the London friends, this time chez V.

Best I didn't know it could taste like that dish: This is a tie, between the slow-cooked egg with white bean soup at Manresa, and the tranche de lard fermier au caviar pressé at Pierre Gagnaire.

Yes there IS a god!

And I know him!!

Restaurante El Bulli
Apreciado Señor,

I am sorry to delay so much in putting me in contact with you. We are surpassed and without options to find a solution for the most of requests. We are moving the situation to solve the possible maximum of cases and we have found an option to please your petition.

With pleasure, I confirm your dinner reservation on month xxth of 2005 for 8 people at 7.30 – 8.00 p.m. under the name: ....

I ask you to confirm your visit a week before and also to give us a telephone number for direct contact.

NOTE: Ferran Adrià will prepare for you a personalized tasting menu. It is important to prepare it to know before if there is some important problem to take care of it, like allergies or products that we can not introduce in your menu.

Atentamente,
Luis García

Now I know in whose praise I shall be singing at thanksgiving table.

Watch this space come next Spring my dear readers. I'll make sure I get a meal at the Fat Duck in as well. Oh, yes, and Grant Achatz's new Alinea should be open by then. Wouldn't it make for an interesting blog? Can't you imagine the title? Well, I don't know, perhaps, Variations on a theme of Molecular Gastronomy: The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit?

This is going to be such fun. :-)

cheers,
Pim --traipsing happily back into the awaiting arms of frivolity

Good bye Trio, hello Trio Atelier

My apology for confusing the future of chef Grant Achatz's new restaurant Alinea with the new incarnation of Trio. In my last review of Trio, I was expressing my disenchantment with Grant Achatz leaving the avant-garde cuisine in favor of bistro-ish food. Happily I was so very wrong, Alinea will continue in the innovative trajectory of chef Achatz's cooking at Trio. Trio itself, on the other hand, has gone through a complete conceptual transformation into what is now called Trio Atelier.

I just found this article announcing the opening of the new Trio Atelier (thanks Lizzie for pointing this out). Apparently the owner of Trio was so inspired by Robuchon's L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon that he has decided to turn Trio into one.

Trio restaurant, an ephemeral magic

The only saving grace of last week harrowing journey through three cities in four days was my dinner at Trio with Louisa. I was particularly happy to be there, not only for the rendez-vous with Louisa, but also to catch a meal by Grant Achatz before he leaves Trio at the end of the month. And now that I've done it, I'm so very glad I had a chance to partake in the ephemeral magic that was Grant Achatz at Trio. And the meal turned out to be, by far, the most interesting one I had this year. Louisa made the reservation for 9pm, as I was coming in that night from Orlando. We both agreed that I really should try Trio, and that we would try to keep the number of courses low so I wouldn't be up so late. I had a flight scheduled at practically daybreak the next morning to Indiana, after all. By the time I got there and sat down at table, it was past nine, thanks to Hertz “Ever Lost” GPS system in my rental car. We looked at the menu, seriously considered the famed Tour de Force menu (27 courses!), but decided to do the sensible thing and went with the 8-course menu. The M.D. came back to the table after a few minutes in the kitchen to say the chef would like to cook for us if that was ok. If that was ok? Are you kidding, I thought, of course, please do. I think we must have mumbled something about my flight the next morning, as he came back barely a minute later to ask how much time we had. I thought about it for a second, and decided “to hell with it” I'd much rather eat than sleep anyhow. So I told him not to worry, I didn't need much sleep anyway. He looked at me a bit cross eyed, but realized I wasn't kidding, so off he went back to the kitchen to tell the chef.

eG Food Blog: from Scarywurst to Buerehiesel, what a ride!

My eating life today has been quite a roller-coaster.

The day started out in Heidelberg with the usual breakfast of bread, butter, and honey, and a great big mug of coffee. Adding to the usual breakfast diet were some saucisson sec and Vacherin Mont d'Or cheese, leftovers from last night's simple dinner. The Vacherin and the saucisson both were fantastic. If you've never had Vacherin, I suggest you try it whenever you've got a chance. It's stinky, earthy, creamy, runny, and absolutely delicious.

For lunch, we continued our search for Scarywurst, aka Currywurst, a relic from his childhood that he insisted I try. When Thomas emailed me a photo he found on the internet to show me, it was so spectacularly frightening that I started calling it Scarywurst rather than Currywurst! Look at this picture and see for yourself! We found it at a tiny stall at the outskirt of Heidelberg.

So we had Scarywurst for lunch. It was actually not anywhere near as disgusting as it looked. The wurst was freshly grilled, sliced into small pieces, then smothered with ketchup and curry powder, then served on a paper plate with french fries. Plus, it was kind of a fun way to prepare ourselves for the dinner at the three-starred Le Buerehiesel.

Near dinnertime, we hopped into the spunky Audi and raced down the fabled German Autobahn to Strasbourg, about 150 km away. Barely an hour and a half later we arrived with over an hour to spare, so we decided to take a walk around the Petit France area again. This area was where I bought all those fantastic cheeses the other day. I wanted to buy another Vacherin for my lunch on the plane tomorrow, so we went back to La Fromagerie des Tonneliers again. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on our side when it came to photographing this place. When we were there the other day, the battery on my camera was dead. Today, we left the camera in the car. Sorry.

Anyway, we bought a petit Vacherin, a small chevre called Briquette de Langoumois, and another local Alsace cheese called Berville. The shop also sells some other food items, so I grabbed a jar of mi-cuit foie gras, a jar of creamy miel de fleurs de Provence, and a jar of confiture de prunes Reine-Claude, which is a type of prune local to the Alsace region. On the walk back to the car to go to the restaurant, we stumbled upon another nice looking shop selling confitures, so in we went and out we walked with five more jars, one of confiture aux clementines et Campari, two jars of confiture de quetches, and a large jar of miel d'acacia). By then Thomas's eyes were filled with panic, or perhaps it was marvel, at my ability to acquire ridiculous amount of things to eat in an improbably short time period. (Right, I forgot to mention another tiny stop at a patisserie to buy a croissant and two éclairs for tomorrow.) Anyway, I decided to give it a rest and went on our way in search of dinner.

Le Buerehiesel is located in a beautiful old building in the Orangerie park just across the street from the European Parliament building. I'm sure business from all the Euro-politicians is almost enough to keep a three-star place in the Black.

Before we arrived, I decided that I would bring my camera, but if it looked as though I would disturb other patrons, I wouldn't use it. Luckily, we were seated at a nice window table, far from other people, so you've got the pictures to see after all.

We decided to order le menu truffe. For Aperitif, I had a Muscat d'Alsace and Thomas had a champagne. I forgot to ask for the names of these, sorry. With dinner we shared a bottle of Kientzler, an Alsace Grand Cru from 1999. It was very dry and fragrant, and was perfect with the food.

The first to come was some amuse. These items were not listed on the menu so I couldn't give you the name in French, but they were poached quail egg in vinaigrette with dandelion greens (This is the second day in a row that I saw dandelion greens on a French menu, perhaps they are in season already?), a fried little pocket of duck and vegetable, a slice of Boudin Noir, topped with a sliced of cooked apple, on a tarte fine, and a small glass of gelee of lobster and creamy chestnut sauce.

My favorite was the gelee in chestnut cream, which was a fantastic mix of flavors and texture. The second favorite was the boudin noir. The other two amuse were just good, not great.

Next was a Terrine de Poireaux et Coquilles St.Jacques aux Truffes.

This was fantastic. The fantastically fresh scallops were ever so slightly poached before being added in the terrine with leeks. The dish was subtle yet fully flavoured, a difficult balance to attain IMHO.

Grenouilles poelees aux truffes, Lasagnes truffees et jus mousseux.
The chef here is rightfully famous with his frog legs. This dish of frog legs in truffle sauce served with a ‘lasagne' of truffles and caramelised onions. The lasagne was a bit more like a ravioli than a lasagne in my opinion. Well, whatever it was, it was simply fantastic. I nearly cried at first bite!!

Poitrine de Pintade aux truffes, petite tourte au foie de canard, marrons et pommes de terre.
Guinea fowl's breast, roasted with truffles underneath the skin, in truffles and jus sauce. The small tart was of duck foie gras, chestnuts, and potatoes, encrusted in thin slices of crisp potatoes.

Fromage.
Cheese! Oh, what can I say about those cheeses, except that they were all to die for?

The pre-pre-dessert were two small plates of thin cinnamon wafers, petits financiers with cherries, grapefruit pate de fruit, and caramelised sesame cookies.

Then the pre-dessert arrived, two small glasses of fruit compote, mainly orange, with a few other things thrown in for good measure, a tiny creme brulee of macademia nuts, and the creamiest egg custard ever topped with meringue.

Oeuf de Poule glace a la truffe fraiche.
The most amazing icecream I'd ever had. The glace was light and fantastically creamy, with small bits of truffles throughout. This is the first dessert made of or garnished with truffles that I've ever liked. The truffles felt like they belonged perfectly in the glace, instead on being a gimmick added on for more value.

Pine apple tast with Sizhuan peppercorns, vanilla, and lime, served with a pineapple sorbet. I wasnät too wild about this one. The tart was sweet and tated of canned pineapples. Yuck!

The last course was coffee, served with chocolate truffles, candied grapfruit peels, caramels, and assorted sugar. They were all great.

I'm off now to bed, to catch a few hours before my flight back to California.

eG Food Blog: Feb.15

Breakfast today was much like the last two days, so I didn't take a picture.

I was invited to lunch today with a friend's family. They live in a city in Germany, only about two kilometers from the French border. The area has changed hands so many times between France and Germany, the last change was not too many decades ago, that the food, the language, and the people are pretty much bi-cultural.

The scene at the house was slightly surreal, I must admit. A Thai girl visiting a German family, but we were all speaking French because that was the language that everyone, including the 70 yr.old grand-mère, spoke. In fact, the grand-mère could speak so many languages, French, German, Italian, Spanish, even a bit of English, and she kept using whichever language that came first to her mind. At one point she said, "I enseigne con flauta", one sentence, four words, in four languages. How fantastic was that?

We had lunch at a local restaurant named Canapé. Just like everything else in that area, the restaurant was a mix of French and German food, even with a bit of Italian pasta thrown in for good measure.

We started with a salad of frisee, lettuce, dandelion, and a healthy heap of lardon, in a creamy herb dressing. It was very good.

The next course was a sorbet of lemon, in champagne. How indulgent! Absolutely delicious.

Next was grilled mullet in langoustine sauce, served with fettucini. Someone translated the name of the fish from German for me as river bass, so I ordered it. When it arrived, I was surprised to see mullet, or rouget in French. If I had known that it was mullet, I probably wouldn't have ordered it, as I found mullet this far from the sea slightly dubious. Luckily the fish turned out quite fresh, and the sauce delicious.

I also stole a few bites of this rack of lamb in rosemary sauce.

The dessert was house-made vanilla icecream and strawberries. Yes, I know what you're thinking, strawberries in February! (roll eyes) The icecream was good though.

And of course, a proper espresso to end the meal.

We drank a bottle of local Reisling, whose name I forgot to take down.

For dinner, we drove around Heidelberg looking for scarywurst (I'll tell you all about it later), but couldn't find it so we ended up at a Thai semi-take out place. Thomas showed it to me for fun, as it was considered the best and most authentic Thai place in all of Heidelberg. It looked pretty good, in fact, so, on a dare, I decided to eat dinner there. We split two dishes, Gai Pad Kra-pow (chicken an holy basil) and Gang Pa Talay (Jungle curry with seafood).

They weren't too bad, really, but the Pad Kra-pow had to much dark chinese soy sauce in it, so it tasted a little muddy. Both the dishes were spicy as hell, even for me.

eG Food Blog: Feb 14

Yesterday was in Strasbourg. You'll just have to make do with pictures for now. I've got no time to do much online as we are running today to another small town in Germany.

(more texts added Feb.16)

Breakfast before driving to France:

Thomas and I had a rendez-vous today with Marie-ève and Lucas who came from Zurich to meet us in Strasbourg for a lunch at Julien, a Michelin * restaurant in town.

After picking up Marie-Eve and Lucas from the train station, and stopping once or twice along the way to join the huge manifestation and yell in support of better treatment for Ochalan, the Kurdish freedom fighter/terrorist (depending, of course, on your point of view), we trekked across town on foot to lunch. On the way we stumbled upon this market.

We had no time to properly survey the market, but I managed to snap a few photos anyway.

When we arrived at Julien, our nice table by the window with the view of the cathedral was waiting for us.

Lunch at Julien, menu Coup de Coeur.

The amuse consisted of a few cold mussels marinated in shallots and parsley vinaigrette, and a dumpling of mince fish(?) in a slightly sweet and sour sauce. The mussels were quite fresh and perfectly seasoned in the marinade, but I was less happy with the other thing. I wasn't even sure it was fish! It just tasted vaguely of some type of seafood, and I wasn't wild about the sauce either.

Marinated wild salmon, served with Quinoa taboule and sprouts salad. The saumon was almost in the style of lox, but without the smokiness. It was great and almost melted in the mouth. I didn't quite get the sprout salad though. Sprouts in general have this slightly woody taste that I dislike.

Scallops with a salad of jerusalem artichoke and black truffles from Richerenches, and risotto. This was the star of the meal. The scallops were fresh and sweet, the jerusalem artichoke salad was lovely, though the truffes de Richerenches were largely missing in action.

The meat course was a Supreme of pheasant stuffed with foie gras, accompanied by mango and dried fruit compote and a reduction sauce with port. I wasn't too happy with this, and left almost half untouched. The pheasant wasn't at all gamey, in fact, it was so benign it could have very well been turkey. The foie gras was somewhat tasteless, which was strange as it is the specialty of the region. Too bad.

The pre-dessert was a swan with cream and coulis. It was just ok, fancy but somewhat pointless presentation, really.

The dessert course consisted of a “molten” bitter chocolate cake, white mousse and orange sorbet, in spiced wine coulis. I wasn't too happy with this either. The supposedly bitter “molten” chocolate cake was neither bitter nor molten. The sorbet was also far too cloyingly sweet. The mousse was ok, but nothing spectacular. The tuille cookie was not crispy.

We had a bottle of Riesling that was chosen for us by the sommelier. It was quite good, though they failed to list the name on the bill so I couldn't tell you what we had.

After we saw Marie-Eve and Lucas back to the train, Thomas and I went in search of a good cheese shop. We found one, La Fromagerie des Tonneliers, which is owned by the same people who own the famous cheese restaurant La Cloche de Fromage. The fromagerie carries all sort of raw milk cheese from all over France.

When we found the place, there was a big sign in front exclaiming “Le Vacherin Mont-d'Or est arrive”. So of course, naturally, we bought one. I also insisted on a slice of Bleu d'Auvergne, even though it's not from this region. I've just been craving it so long. I also got a Valencay, a goat milk cheese formed into a pyramid shape. And to also get something local, we got a big slice of local Munster cheese.

After the big lunch, dinner was a simple meal of cheese, bread, and saucisson sec (also bought from the cheese shop). To drink were a glass of bordeaux and a bottle of Karlsberg.

Best/worst food moments of 2003

Best Overall Food Experience: The day trip to Paris from London with Martin, beginning with Robuchon, then for patisserie from Hermé, on to procuring Castleton été at Mariage, and finishing the afternoon with chocolates from Hévin.

Best Food Shopping Moment: Flash-mobbing Borough with the OA crowd.

Most Fun Cooking: In Bangkok with my Aunt Chawiwan. The Thai feast for 16 hungry londoners with Max, Simon, and Vanessa.

Best "I didn't know it could taste like that" dishes: Roasted Woodcock (brain, innards, and all but the feathers) at St.John

Best Restaurant Meal: St.John

Best Overall Restaurant Experience: L'Arpège, malgrès les betteraves.

Best Service: L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon, on the third consecutive lunch in August, and Kiss, by Naga-san, as always.

Most Fantastic Discovery: The New Tayyab, The Sutton Arms (now closed, dammit!), St.John

Best homey dessert: Rosie's crumble and custard at the Christmas Party at the Sutton Arms

Best fancy dessert: Ispahan from Pierre Hermé

Worst fancy dessert: Ispahan at Ladurée

Most Bizarre Meal: 66

Most Blah Meal: 66

Most Disappointing Meal: Nahm

Worst Meal: Nahm

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Best Compliments:
"Best Overall Food Experience of 2003: Pim's Thai Banquet (by some stretch)", Tony Finch
"When you find the time, will you marry me?", Maurice Naughton

Amsterdam recommendations

Someone asked me where to eat in Amsterdam. That's a tough question, really.

First of all, I wouldn't go to Amsterdam for the food. For other things, Amsterdam is great fun. I recommend you stay in the Jordaan, which is near enough to the center but hip and low-key neighbourhood with little cafes and well hidden art galleries. The last time I was around that neighbourhood I wandered into one of those galleries, the owner, a delightfully cranky old man told me a tale of how he discovered and put on the first show for Cy Twombly.

Many of my Amsterdam trips are for work, So I would stay at one of those charmless cookie cutter places like the Marriot or the Intercontinental. The only time I was there on my own dough in the last two years, I stayed at a delightful little hotel called the hotel Van Onna near the Ann Frank House in the Jordaan. My Dutch friend Anke recommended the place, which turned out to be a small, friendly, family run little canal-side hotel on the quiet Bloemgracth. I loved the place. It was spotless and comfortable, though a bit lacking in luxury (no phone, no TV). It was also fabulously cheap, around 90 euros in the height of the summer season! It was so cheap I wondered if the bathroom was en suite or down the hall. Happily the former was the case. I would recommend it to anyone. They also serve a nice breakfast which included a very Dutch treat of white bread and chocolate sprinkles. (Hotel Van Onna, Bloemgracht 102, +31 20 626 5801)

My favorite people watching place in Amsterdam has got to be Café de Jaren on Nieuwe Doelenstraat by the Amstel canal. They have a bright and cheery room overlooking the canal. In the summer I love sitting outside on the dock sipping a cup of tea and while away the afternoon. The outdoor seating is closed, understandably, most of the winter but the place is still worth the visit. They also serve food, which is entirely edible.

Sap en Soup on Haarlemstraat (also in the Jordaan) is lovely. Good quick place to grab a cup of soup for lunch or some fresh organic juices to go. The soups are good for Amsterdam standard, but then again you didn't go there for the food, did you?

Chez George on Herenstraat is probably one of the nicest restaurants in the whole town, which still is not saying much about the place. It's also a bit on the expensive side for what you get, and I can't always justify eating there when I've just come from either Paris on London where you could eat much better. If Amsterdam is your only destination this trip on the other hand, by all means go there.

There is a very nice tea shop on Keizersgracht near the Westerkerk church where you can buy lovely tea. In December they should have new arrivals of Second Flush Darjeelings, which despite the connotation of “second” is not necessarily inferior to the First Flushes. For example, the Castleton plantation is known to have far superior (hence expensive) Second Flush than their First Flush teas. Actually, I'm not sure if the shop is on Keizersgracht or the next block, Prinsengracht, but I'm certain it is at the corner of one of these two streets and Rozengracht, which is the main street going from the Jordaan into the city area. I'm sorry I can't be more specific, but it's not that hard to find really.

You should definitely go to the Rijksmuseum, yes the Van Gogh museum as well, but definitely the Rijksmuseum. I fail to understand why so many people prefer the Van Gogh while I would take any of Rembrandt's paintings over the whole lot of Van Gogh's. Every time I go there I spent hours going back and forth between the Jewish Bride and the Night Watch. Simply festinating and utterly perfect both of those paintings are.

Going from the Rijksmuseum toward Amstel canal in town, you should take the Nieuwe Spiegelstraat. There are a lot of contemporary galleries in that neighbourhood, including the famous De Appel center, the well known D'Eent gallery, and the fabulous gallery Lieve Hemel which carries some of the best contemporary realist paintings in Europe.