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Green Valium ... Paris Style

12/31/2014

Paris --- a destination known for monuments, bright lights and big city glamor.
But for me, Paris is a metropolis full of quiet places, too, grassy lawns and
welcoming spaces that provide a sympathetic alternative to urban lifestyle.

In a city celebrated for its careful arrangement of beautiful streets and harmonious
dwellings, isn't it nice to discover a surprising oasis of cool and calming green?
You can take a few minutes to gather your thoughts, check your map or,
better yet, not think about what's around the next bend.
I once read that Paris boasts well over 400 different parks, squares and
small green spaces -- open stretches of green, some large but many small,
including gardens where Parisians and tourists alike can rest their weary bodies and souls.

I love these little revelations.
Even when these small bites of local color are filled to the gills with people,
it often feels like a secret landmark, my own personal souvenir of Paris.

Oh sure, Paris can crow about more than a dozen famous parks,
all of them memorable for different reasons -- from the elegant Luxembourg and
Monceau to the sweeping vistas of Montsouris and the Bois de Boulogne --
you'll find all the right trappings we've come to expect in majestic Paris.
You might prefer a more casual and hip Parc de Belleville or Buttes Chaumont,
each with their own special brand of cool.
And of course, there are specialty parks as well.
If you want a dose of roses, look no further than the Parc de Bagatelle.
If you desire a more contemporary feel, check out Andre Citroen or Villette.
The list goes on.....too many to name, we can sing the praises of all of them.
But that's not what I'm here today to talk about.

Today's feature are those out of the way little spots,
the happy surprises that appear out of nowhere.
I always seem to find one just when I need a break -- my feet hurt or I need to sit
and eat something I've just picked up at the patisserie -- or I just want to gaze
at something green and growing while I count my Paris blessings.

If the legend of 400+ park-like places is true, then I hope one day to find them
all --- unexpected, enchanting little tastes of the real Paris.

Sometimes I'm somewhere totally unfamiliar and not sure of what I'm looking at.
Is the space in the picture above just a pretty part of an apartment complex?
Or is it a defined city property?

Wandering around the 18th away from the touristy part of Montmartre, I felt
a little disoriented once I stepped out of the much traveled streets that surround the butte.
As I wandered down rue Ordener (or so I think, I was lost), I happened upon
a pretty space surrounded by lovely trees and charming foliage -- including what
looked like the beginnings of a vegetable garden -- and, as always,
welcoming benches much peopled by locals.
Within minutes after joining the natives, my composure returned and I felt
revived enough to return to my wanderings.

That's what these small pleasure gardens do.
Parisians are lucky -- and smart -- to attach such importance to them.

All over Paris, you'll find these cheerful, unpretentious gifts of green.
One particular neighborhood that brims head to toe with such budding bounty is
The Marais, dead center in the middle of the capitol, its medieval streets
untouched by Baron Haussmann's quest for homogeneous perfection.

The grandeur comes not from coherently straight, majestic streets and monuments.
Here, Paris uniformity is replaced by quiet pieces of leafy parks,
tidy and tiny, each one more beautiful than the last.

My favorite little Marais park is the Square Georges Cain.
I could sit on the same bench for a year and be forever content.
It's not the prettiest or the most exciting -- it just sort of defines Paris for me.
Children quietly playing, mamas taking a time out to breathe in some fresh air,
and folks like me who can't believe such a space exists in the
middle of a very busy world capitol.

The Marais boasts, of course, the justifiably famous Place des Vosges,
the perfect legacy that King Henri IV constructed in the 1600's,
often called the most beautiful square in Paris.
But beyond that, this neighborhood lays claim to the Jardin Anne Frank,
the Jardin du Clos des Blancs Manteaux, the gardens of the Musee Carnavalet
and the Archives Nationales. And that's just the short list.
The Hotel de Sens, the Square du Temple.....well, that's enough for one
day -- especially when you consider
The Marais only covers two of the twenty
arrondissements in Paris.

Many guidebooks recommend an (1!) afternoon walking
The Marais on their whirlwind tours of Paris.
That's so sad.
I've been walking the streets here for half a lifetime -- and I always discover
something new, starting with these little green spaces.

I get a kick out of all the verdant little parks, squares and gardens near
the acres of flowers and shrubs that make up Parc du Luxembourg in the 6th.
It's amazing that city planners would go to the effort and expense of creating
swaths of greenery when such a magnificent park is just blocks away.

Hidden corners that delight -- no museum pass required.
Some do belong to museums -- Musee Zadkine is directly across the street
from Luxembourg (the garden is free to anyone) -- and others belong to the Church --
Jardin Catherine Lebouré sprouts a brilliant plant kingdom -- and still others are
just in the middle of the district for no apparent reason at all -- Place Furstenberg
exists seemingly just to delight residents of the posh neighborhood.
The Jardin Marco Polo (part of Jardins de l'Observatoire) is tacked on to
the south end of Luxembourg Gardens -- as if you needed a reminder of
the birds and the bees and the calm that corrals an addicted tree-hugger like me.

But then that's Paris, that's what they do so well -- the pieces of love
that make our hearts ache to return again and again.

Is your withering traveler's carcass coming back to life yet?
Yes, that's the reason these plant kingdoms exist.
Paris seems to understand the human condition, the frailty that
stems from city clutter and busy street chatter.
Whatever neighborhood you find yourself in, you barely have to open your eyes
to find a favorite refuge, an escape that's as special as any
of the dazzling monuments you'll find in the city.

The Jardin des Poètes is part of the
Jardins des Serres d'Auteuil -- a little poet's corner for lack of a better description.
Or how about the buildings in Paris that are covered in ivy and greenery,
capped off with fantastical roof-top gardens?

Yes, it's very apparent that Parisians love their green space.
Many of the universities have parks that boast public art and carefully tended gardens
to keep their young charges motivated to learn (and kiss).
The Promenade Plantée has justifiably gained prominence with travelers
but have you discovered the Jardins de Tino Rossi yet?
Seine-side, just a lovely nighttime stroll away from Notre Dame (on the other side of the river), you'll discover a mob of gyrating dancers to warm your heart and feed your soul.

Parc Georges Brassens isn't well known but it should be.
Or a try a quick side trip just outside the boundaries of Paris -- leading
you to the brilliant Jardin Albert Kahn in Boulogne-Billancourt and
a taste of English, French and Japanese style gardens.

Wherever you go, you'll find more park-like spaces in Paris than any other city in Europe.
If you have an opportunity to visit the Petit Palais, by all means, go to enjoy
the art-nouveau splendor of the building and its amazing collections -- but
don't forget to save enough time to savor its beautiful garden.
Square René Viviani is a place you'll practically bump into next time you stop
at Shakespeare & Company -- so open your eyes and look for
its claim to fame -- the oldest tree in Paris -- a locust planted in 1601.
Even Mr. Shakespeare would find inspiration in that.

Yep, that's Paris all right -- bubbling over with delightful places to hang your hat. Neighborhoods breed these community corners -- places like the Square Léon Serpollet -- proudly named for the local inventor of the steam car.
This charming but humble vision is a neighborhood park -- and somehow
just what we need on a hot summer day.

The Square Maurice Gardette is another such invention, a spot to sit and
contemplate the universe -- or your next marvelous meal.
I think by now you get the picture.

Paris is a place full of hidden corners that delight all of your senses.
Trees, flowers, shrubs, benches that look like open books....
This is how you'll ripen your Paris experience.
A little tenderness never hurt anyone and that's exactly what we've
come to expect in these verdant petite pieces of heaven.
A genie in a bottle, a one-key-recovery-button, a prize winning lottery ticket --- that's
how good an hour feels in one of these special Paris places.

Pack your bags and get ready to stay awhile!

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The Soul of French Cuisine: Soup

12/24/2014

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Soup, the essence of food and nourishment.
It improves your point of view the moment you dig in.
It can be thick or thin, hot or cold, fancy or plain.

Soups in France are a gift, the perfect example of diverse regional cooking.
As with most French cuisine, what goes in the pot is fresh, local and delicious.
And unmistakeably French.

The character of a region's soup specialty goes a long way
to identify that particular community's cooking.
When you think of Paris, onion soup immediately comes to mind.

Here's a short list of soups that go hand in hand with the unique regions of France:

Garlic Soup from Languedoc -- No worries about who you kiss, the garlic
mellows when enhanced by long cooking with duck fat and a heady bouquet garni.

Soup au Pistou from sunny Provence -- The taste of Provence in a bowl,
garlic, fresh basil, olive oil, the expressive pistou stirred in at the finishing line.

Bouillabaisse from Marseilles -- unbelievable assortment of just caught
Mediterranean fish (rascasse, rockfish, eel, mullet, monkfish, sea urchins,
mussels, langoustine or whatever the fishermen just brought to market)
and full-flavored vegetables like fennel and leeks along with
a dose of Pernod, an exhilarating licorice aperitif wine.
The tasty broth is usually served separately along with a rouille (saffron & red
pepper mayonnaise) and served on grilled bread -- worth every last euro.

Garbure from Gascony -- traditional, hot, and heavy -- brimming with
cabbage and either goose confit or smoked ham, usually with beans
and a variety of root vegetables. Perfect peasant fare.

Chestnut Soup from Aquitaine - creamy pulverized chestnuts combine
with decadent creme fraiche to make a memorable soup.

Vichyssoise from Paris or New York City? -- crazy as it sounds,
Julia Child insisted it was an American invention -- but down home fare
in France always included a leek and potato soup, served hot -- its status
later elevated by a Ritz Carlton chef who chose to serve it elegantly chilled.

Beef Bourguignon from Burgundy -- a stew like no other, full of heavy
long-simmered beef, exquisite red wine, cognac, carrots, mushrooms & pearl onions.

Pumpkin soup from the Auvergne -- straight from the farmhouse,
this soup is simple, savory and satisfying.

Melon soup from Cavaillon in Provence -- naturally, the town that celebrates
the best melon in France is known for their icy soup of the same name.
A dose of the local muscat gives rise to sweet perfection.

Bourride from the South (Occitan roots) -- almost scary looking,
the dark and mysterious soup is a witches' cauldron brimming with the day's
fresh catch (often monkfish and shrimp), flavored with aioli, a garlicy,
lemony concoction that boasts the consistency of mayonnaise
but the sophisticated flavors of the world.

Cotriade from Brittany -- completely different from the seafood soups of the Mediterranean, this fish stew shows off the Atlantic white fish
of the region in typical simple Breton manner.

Potage Crécy from the Somme -- simple creamy soup made with allegedly
the best carrots in all of France, grown in the cold & hallowed ground of the north.

Soupe au Choux from the Auvergne -- Mom's cooking, straight-forward and warming.

The expression "from soup to nuts"
is an American way of saying "everything from beginning to end".
Quite often, the soup course defines a meal.
If it's good, we expect the best from all that follows from start to finish.

Napoleon once said,
"Our army travels on its stomach. Soup makes the soldier."

You could the same about we hungry travelers.
As we hunt and peck our way through new cities searching for
unfamiliar sights and experiences, wonderful restaurants and cozy
accommodation, we tend to seek out food that comforts.
When it comes to our plate, we're not satisfied
with just adequate or passable.
We explorers expect something glorious, a taste to remember for all time.

That doesn't necessarily translate to gourmet restaurants or
multiple courses, of course, but with soup, at least,
our desires and expectations are usually fulfilled.
While it would be fun to anticipate black truffle soup each time we sit down
in a French restaurant, we can be made deliriously happy
with a simple cream of cauliflower potage or a seafood bisque.
Or, for that matter, whatever bowl of France that is set in front of us.

So often it's the first course & the last course that we remember most fondly.
Time and again, that sacred memory includes soup.

My French uncle made the most amazing soup.
It was a complete mystery to me, tasting - and smelling -
of the green garden just outside the back door.
My mother and I swear we once saw him put sticks into the soup pot!
Having eaten our "big" meal of the day at lunch,
soup and bread defined dinner -- but oh what fine dining that was.
I wouldn't trade that memory for a Michelin 5-star taste anywhere in Paris.

Baby, it's cold outside.
Soup is celebrated for its warming and nourishing qualities.
It's celebrated around the world, by rich and by poor, in soup kitchens and
in 5-star restaurants, by globetrotting gourmets and famished children.
Its vital essence makes you think of tradition, mom, and home.

Even for daredevil travelers who want a taste of innovation,
soup provides inspiration as well as energy.
Every recipe in France is clearly a snapshot of its own community.
Pot au Feu, Poule au Pot -- all names we've grown to love.
Carcasses and bones, fish heads and bread crusts, every last
vegetable and herb from the garden around the corner or morels
from the forest -- whatever the ingredients -- you can be sure it's fresh,
it's local and it will bring down the house.

With one exception.
Onion soup, though connected with Paris lights and Paris glitz,
likely came from the conquering Romans.
Rugged yet refined Lyonnaise cuisine elevated the concoction to a
new level, taking pains to caramelize the onions, adding a good measure
of other elegant flavors -- and then the world gives rival Paris all the credit.
Hmm, perhaps that's what Hemingway meant when he spoke of a "moveable feast."

And then there's my favorite soup of all time -- "Duck Soup"
but that's a whole other story.....

As famous French playwright Molière once said,
"I live in good soup, not on fine words."

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Wine & Bread - A French Birthright

12/16/2014

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For over 200 years, Napoleon Bonaparte has been labeled a diabolical brute.
But who would guess that brut -- in this case, champagne -- was one of
Napoleon's secret weapons in his conquest to rule the world.
Once famously explaining,

"In victory you deserve champagne, in defeat you need it."

Who could dispute that logic.

Without question, Napoleon's shrewdest war-time strategy
was courting the loyalty of his troops.
He was a master at forming personal relationships,
working his charismatic magic even in the heat of battle.
Whether removing his own war medals to pin on brave soldiers in the field,
or gracing his top brass with their favorite champagne,
the Emperor of France took pains to seduce & finesse his followers.
He tied his own glory to the glory of France -- and used all the gifts from
the good French earth to lavish thanks and praise on his fighting forces.
Wine, champagne, bread -- the staff of life.

His winning strategy started with the act of taming hungry tummies.
Hungry, cold, wearing ill-fitting boots, the suffering herd of soldiers
surely felt grateful when they got their daily ration of bread and wine.
They didn't get much - bread, biscuits, rice, a bit of ground meat and
one liter of wine was supposed to nourish four men for four days.
They were also encouraged to scavenge off the land for whatever
they could muster as they dug deeper into enemy territory.

Napoleon's good friend since military school, Jean-Rémy Moet
of the famed house of Moet & Chandon, was thrilled and
thankful for Napoleon's loyalty to his champagne brand.
He built a replica of the Grand Trianon in Epernay
so Napoleon and Josephine would feel right at home.
The warmonger often stopped off just before battle
to stock up on his favorite bottles.

In a hurry to join his troops against Wellington's forces, Napoleon didn't
have time to make his standard stop at his friend's champagne house.
Deviating from the norm, he hurried off to the front lines ---
his final battle --- literally his Waterloo -- without his standard cache.
Curious, coincidence, or an act of God, who knows.....

Much later, as he lay dying in his bed at Saint Helena, the former
commander-in-chief's penchant for champagne seemed to diminish.
His taste shifted to South Africa's Vin de Constance, shipping
nearly 300 gallons of the stuff every year to the island.
At that point, it's likely he felt neither victorious nor defeated.
Accepting and teetering at the edge of life, perhaps the
celebratory taste of champagne no longer satisfied.

During WWI, the bitterly suffering French troops had little to celebrate.
But at least they had their pinard --- cheap wine
allotted to help them brave the trenches.
After all, they were in or near wine country and in those days families
hardly considered lunch a meal unless it included the liquid grape.

If water safety was questionable, one drank wine instead (a practice initiated
during the Middle Ages) ---- and so began the long legacy of wine consumption.
But not for all.
At the beginning of WWI, wine was actually a new taste for some Frenchmen.
Hailing from France's northern provinces, their heritage favored cider and beer.
It was in this war that all of France developed their penchant
for the drink we most associate with their country.
During the war to end all wars, wine nourished the soul.

At every possible opportunity, French soldiers were given fresh bread
but as they reached the front lines, they had to make do with
emergency supplies, generally consisting of tinned foods.
Unusual to perhaps anyone except the French, paté and dried soup
reconstituted to resemble ratatouille were part of their provisions.
Washed down with cheap wine, it provided nourishment
and a smidgen of morale building for the desperate fighting men.

There were many reasons to fight for France in WWII but as
Winston Churchill --- tongue in cheek --- firmly reminded his military corps,
"Remember gentlemen, it's not just France we are fighting for, it's champagne!"

World War II was marked by victory parades brimming with inebriated soldiers.
Clutching their prized bottles of wine, they may have cherished their liquid gold
more than the art and the people they had so bravely liberated.
Wine served as the applause for a job well done.
All over France, bottles of the treasured elixir were carefully uncovered
and generously offered to the soldiers in victory.
At their side, the newly unshackled French population
celebrated the end of the madness.
It was a 24-hour-a-day party and wine was front and center.

Supplies were still in short supply - but fresh bread,
a little cheese and a bottle of wine never tasted so good.
Butter and real coffee would come later - as would meat, heat
and other everyday conveniences we take for granted.
But for now, France was happy to have its bread and wine.

So whether you lived during Napoleon's reign or some time after,
the mousetrap is and always will be wine and bread.
It's France's legacy, its gift, its soul.

In today's world, France continues to celebrate life with wine.
But with some reservations.
Wine consumption in France has dramatically fallen over the last 30 years.
The average Frenchman consumes just one glass of wine a day,
confusing we new oenophiles who are drinking more,
hoping to grab the brass ring of the French Paradox.
Cocktails, designer coffee, beer and -- gasp -- water have
gained in popularity throughout all of France.
People are more health conscious and hope to delay
the liver ailments of their parents.

Bread, however, remains in demand although quantity, too, has shifted.
The rise of the artisan boulangerie proves that even weight conscious Parisians
who shun alcohol, sugar and other caloric favorites in favor of fitting
into their skinny jeans, remain wholly committed to the art of bread-making.

They may watch their waistlines but their demand for bread continues.
It's part of the French civilization, the legendary joie de vivre.
So as they cut down on quantity, their demands for high quality shine
in every neighborhood where you'll find an authentic baker ready to
work his magic the old fashioned way.

Wine, bread - everyone's favorite, the necessity of life --
and the birthright of every person in France..
Thank goodness.

Mark Twain's brilliant mind sums it up:
"Too much of anything is bad, but too much champagne is just right."

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Magical Montpellier

12/9/2014

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Languedoc-Roussillon has swagger.
France's most atmospheric southern galaxy offers countless delightful destinations.
A visit to the region demands a timetable (if not a lifetime) long enough
to acquaint yourself with endearingly off-the-beaten-path villages
and as much unruffled countryside as your heart can stand.
But any trip to the Languedoc would not be complete without a stop
in its most youthful and energetic city, Montpellier.

Montpellier is the capitol of Languedoc-Roussillon.
Located near the Mediterranean coast, it's not your typical coastal city.

Often lauded as France's fastest growing city (8th in the pecking order),
it's a study in contrasts, a reminder that globe-trotting surprises still exist.
In the town that produced Nostradamus and Rabelais, today's Montpellier
paints a cheerful picture that includes an army of students, legions of
adventure sports enthusiasts and a kaleidoscope of fun and funky trams
decorated by none other than famous French couture designer Christian Lacroix.

As you first enter the "old" city, you're immediately swept up by the
enormous main plaza -- which, being shaped like your favorite
breakfast food, is affectionately referred to as L'Oeuf (the egg).
The Place de la Comédie feels like a huge veranda, a welcoming
esplanade of open air dining and engaging people watching.

It seems like every café in Montpellier has outdoor seating.
Making the scene must be life's main diversion here.
Twisty old streets make way to a traveler's paradise where you can spend hours
embracing the genial and relaxed culture of the casual Montpellier locals.
Smell the sweet air and absorb a dose of sunny vitamin D while you
sip a glass of rosé and forget your troubles.
Soak it up, you'll need your energy later.....

Old Town Montpellier (Écusson neighborhood) manages to be
both timeworn and trendy at the same time.
The district charmingly manages to lure both tourists and locals, both
sharing the same hangouts without the usual panty lines that segregate.

As you slowly make your way down memorable streets into the heart of
the Écusson, you'll notice that this is definitely not just some stuffy museum city.
Every nook and cranny is filled with a liveliness that certifies the
community feel of the neighborhood, something not found in many urban spaces.

The term "youthful vibe" is often overused, but here, it seems like they invented it. The glow of the Young and the Restless sipping on a citron pressé,
taking on city life full on --- but, as they do in the south,
a little bit slower than their counterparts north of the Massif Central.

Montpellier's many sights look familiar, yet fresh.

The Porte du Peyrou (built in the 17th Century to honor the Sun King)
isn't just one more triumphal arch set dramatically on a grand avenue
posed for another military or marketing campaign.

Montpellier's major art installation, Musée Fabre, though chock full of classics
dating from the Renaissance all the way to modern times, is a hands on affair
that offers workshops and changing exhibits every season.
You'll even get a chance to taste the daring cuisine of the famous Pourcel Brothers (of Les Jardins des Sens fame) at the museum restaurant, Insensé.

Colorful and somewhat disrespectful bollards (concrete posts used to keep
cars off pedestrian streets) line some of the streets making the old town
into a new town of cool and collaborative street art.

Wrought iron balconies and narrow streets give way to the Peyrou Promenade where you'll see locals and tourists sharing the same wide and welcoming space.

Take your time.
The Midi - another name for for the south of France -- is proud
that they've woven slow & easy into the fabric of its people.

There are a variety of neighborhoods and interests to keep you
entertained in this not-too-touristy southern city.

The Jardin des Plantes is said to be the oldest (dating from1593!)
botanical gardens in all of France.
Make some time for history under glass.

Chateaux, vineyards, and wine-tastings are within a stone's throw of the main
city center (Chateau de Flaugergues and Chateau de la Mogère).

Speaking of wine, you may be tasting some grape varietals you're
not familiar with -- Carignan, Cinsault and Mourvèdre compete
with the more well known Grenache and Merlots.

What to eat? That one's easy.
My first thoughts roam to colorful local produce, duck confit
and platters of charcuterie --- and that's just for starters.
If you're already familiar with the more well-known cuisine from
neighboring Provence, you'll be glad to find a new friend in Languedoc.
It's equally delicious and pairs perfectly with the regional wine.
Hint: Take a peek at the cheese and chocolate shops on rue St. Guillem.
Delicious Montpellier is a food-lover's paradise.

Montpellier is also known for its craftsmanship of world-class violins.
Check with the tourist office for possible tours of violin making workshops.
The Sainte-Anne neighborhood (near the International Music Academy
of Montpellier) is still home to a handful of luthiers (violin artisans).

The Odysseum is a shopping center that catapults
much more than just your sense of style.
It features an aquarium, an ice rink and a planetarium for anyone
who might be allergic to shopping.

If that's not enough to keep you motivated, just north of the city
is a huge safari-like zoo with vast spaces for roaming wildlife.
Rhinos, hippos, giraffes and birds welcome you to their habitat.
It also features an Amazonian greenhouse that
features seven different climate zones and a host of scary creatures.

Like so many French cities, Montpellier has its own favorites.
The International Festival of Extreme Sports is tailor-made for the city's culture.
The annual event brings 350,000 fans of board sports to see the best of
rollerblading, BMX and wakeboarding -- and that's just for starters.
Need more wine....

Just when you think you've figured the city out, you'll need to reverse gears
and discover the new city in the Antigone District.

Side by side with Montpellier's historic neighborhood, Antigone mixes
neo-classical with a modernism that's easy to love.

Mayor Georges Frêche developed the project, initiating the plan in the late 70's.
He was proud of his domain and wanted to promote a more
cosmopolitan atmosphere as the city grew and prospered.
The blend of green space, cultural playground, shops, housing and restaurants
required a bold vision which Catalan architect Richard Bofill imagined and delivered.
The Antigone is more than just a handful of handsome buildings.
It's a feeling, a place to live out your dreams.

Many travelers come to France to see and admire the historical
old stones of a city -- but here in new Montpellier, you'll wonder why
your own hometown hasn't sired a design as daring and progressive as this.

Montpellier is a city you'll long remember.

It may be a town built for youth -- but whether you're young or old,
you'll feel a bounce in your step when you walk the streets of Montpellier.
Embrace the feeling, it's like finding a brand new set
of roller skates under the Christmas tree.
Watch out, you may outright sparkle in the sun.

"Brand New Key"
"I rode my bicycle past your window last night
I roller skated to your door at daylight
It almost seems like you're avoiding me
I'm okay alone but you got something I need

Well, I got a brand new pair of roller skates
You got a brand new key
I think that we should get together
And try them out, you see

I been looking around awhile
You got something for me
Oh, I got a brand new pair of roller skates
You got a brand new key

I ride my bike, I roller skate, don't drive no car
Don't go too fast but I go pretty far
For somebody who don't drive, I been all around the world
Some people say, I done all right for a girl

I asked your mother if you were at home
She said yes, but you weren't alone
Oh, sometimes I think that you're avoiding me
I'm okay alone but you've got something I need

Well, I got a brand new pair of roller skates
You got a brand new key
I think that we should get together
And try them on, you see

Oh, I got a brand new pair of roller skates
You got a brand new key"

Songwriters
Safka, Melanie

Thanks to MetroLyrics:
Read more: Melanie - Brand New Key Lyrics | MetroLyrics

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The Mistaken Identity of French Food

12/2/2014

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Recently I served up a classic Boeuf Bourguignon to a few
friends who weren't too familiar with French cooking.
It's a reliable dish that can be prepared in advance, imparting a soup spoon
of comfort while magically impressing guests with its French label.
While we broke bread and enjoyed the wine and cognac infused stew,
I started thinking about the sometimes negative perception of French food.

Several comments were made during the course of the dinner, mostly fostering
the perception that French food is heavy and loaded with richly convoluted sauces.
Many people, not having the opportunity to savor the culinary genius
firsthand, harbor misconceptions about la cuisine francaise.

In this new progressive age of eating, many discerning diners will likely
avoid French food if they buy into the myth that the cuisine
is uniformly heavy and old fashioned, a pleasurable but
guilty gut-wrenching exercise limited to special occasions only.
Far from the truth, that's a black eye that's totally undeserved.

We've all heard the old wives' tale warning us not to
walk underneath a ladder for fear of bad luck.
That's not too far from the delusional myth that French food is for gluttons only.
Admittedly, I've never met a goose liver I didn't like -- but not all French
feasting is related to foie gras and elaborate sauces from froufrou
chefs wearing tall toques and medals pinned to their chests.

This unfair characterization of French food is not new.
Food crazes come and go.
It's an industry not unlike fashion -- you're in one day and the next day you're out. But great chefs know, there are kitchen basics and there are rules worth breaking.
There is hard work along with fertile fields blessed with abundance from God.
And I can personally attest, France is gifted year after year with all of the above.

Great chefs are born in France and great chefs travel the world
for the golden opportunity to cook in fabled France.
There's an inspiration and a legacy here that fuels the imagination and artistry
of any firebrand who enjoys the creativity and challenge of the food industry.
Chefs know --- the mistaken identity of la cuisine francaise is like honey to a bee. These chefs go out of their way to gather the best of the best and make the most of it.

They do it like they were born to it.

Even UNESCO puts a big gold badge on French cuisine.
Their scrupulous officials have heaped praise on the gastronomic meal of France. "The gastronomic meal emphasizes togetherness, the pleasure of taste, and the balance between human beings and the products of nature."
That declaration just about sums up French cooking in a nutshell.

La Cuisine Francaise is on the same plane with family & friends.
La Cuisine Francaise = pleasure in the form of taste, smell and presentation.
La Cuisine Francaise translates to a careful nurturing of the planet
and a magnified reverence for Mother Nature.
In return, the land, the chef, the food delivers.

France celebrates her legendary cuisine with
a bounty of food festivals practically year round.
There's a festival for wine, truffles, ham, black pudding, snails, chocolate,
goat cheese, strawberries, oysters, melons, pate, rice, garlic, almonds,
lavender, bread, beer, salt, chestnuts, lemons, onions honey,
herring, carrots...... too many to enumerate.

Carrots, really?

Who gets excited over a carrot?
The French, of course.
Prized carrots can make a dish.
Ever tasted a daube de boeuf aux carottes?
You're sure to gain a new appreciation of the much maligned tuber.

That's one festival I'd like to attend -- a day of devotion, hail to the orange.
Perhaps a carrot parade coupled with dancing in the street and
a carrot eating competition..... hopefully, served with wine.
However they choose to celebrate this annual event, it's very telling that
they celebrate a vegetable as simple as a carrot.
No tasteless carrot sticks covered in peanut butter,
it's a French Revolution I can believe in.

Food is adored in France -- quality celebrated and appreciated.
Food is national pride, a patriotism that everyone can believe in.

If your mouth isn't watering and you still have a nagging worry
over old fashioned, sauce-heavy black tie cuisine, then consider this.

Every region has a different approach to food -- their own claim to fame.
Across the board, the starting gate looks like this:
Menus are based on what's available fresh at market on any given day.
Whether it's oysters, melons or mushrooms, each department in France
creates its own "Best of" list -- and they're not shy about promoting it.

Whether it's asparagus, anchovies or anise,
there's a region and a season that's feted to the nth degree.
If it's fresh and regional, you'll see it on nearly every menu
of every restaurant you encounter in a particular city.

If you desire comfort food, you'll find it --- tartiflette, cassoulet,
blanquette du veau.... Should you prefer a lighter touch,
go for moules marineres, piperade, fish soup or ratatouille.
Humble origins best describe crêpes, pot au feu and choucroute garnie.
And don't discount France's haute cuisine if your pocketbook allows -- soufflé,
sole meuniere, pan seared foie gras, escargot -- all worthy of the haughty name.

Even the joyless prune is celebrated in France.
Don't laugh, unless you've tried an Agen prune, you haven't really tasted a prune.
Regional cuisines each have a specialty for each course,
always based on the riches of the terra firma.
Cherry clafoutis from the Limousin (yes, including the pits),
coq au vin in Burgundy, Calvados in Normandy.
Cherries, local chicken and apples are the foundation for each delectable taste.
Don't even try to separate food from drink.

In the U.S., we lazy cooks look for chicken tenders instead of the whole bird.
That's the perfect description of insanity.
The chicken, though humble, is far more characterful when served unabbreviated.
A plastic chicken tender is just a stinky little piece of pectoral muscle that cooks up fast and tastes like whatever seasoning you use to forgive its blandness.
A whole chicken, on the other hand (as the French would choose), has
layers of flavor and goodness right down to the bone.

Some people absurdly refuse to eat meat on the bone.
They want their food fileted and barren of anything that resembles the animal.
Not so the french.
They want their cheese raw and alive
(though sadly, the EU is making that harder to find).
They demand that their food -- whether meat, dairy or grain -- taste
of its essence, its purity and full character intact.
Sure, they season, sometimes they sauce, other times they bake, broil, grill or
serve up raw -- but still, the most important element of the dish is its in-bred quality.

Family bistros, wine bars, food trucks, 24-hour-brasseries, no frills cafés,
Michelin-starred temples of haute cuisine -- it's all there and it's yours to choose.

Plan on a variety of tastes.
Admittedly, I'm very fond of "grandma's cooking" -- boeuf bourguignon
or duck confit --- as well as the assimilated cuisines of the former
French colonies --- couscous royale (Algeria) or ca kho to (Vietnam).
The delights of the kitchen are many and I always look for new tastes on each visit.

A trip to Provence brings on a hunger for fresh vegetables and aioli.
A week in Alsace makes me long for tarte flambée and choucroute garnie.
The Pyrenees yield fresh trout and the many pleasures of Basque cuisine
while the sunny skies of the Poitou-Charentes region deliver
incredibly fresh seafood and produce to build a lifetime of food memories.
Start with a glass of Pineau and end with a tumbler of Cognac -- and in between,
sink your teeth into the Marennes oysters and Ile de Re potatoes, salicornia
from the salt marshes and mojhette beans from the Marais Poitevin.
The options are endless.

"Watch a French housewife as she makes her way slowly along the loaded stalls...searching for the peak of ripeness and flavor...What you are seeing is a true artist at work, patiently assembling all the materials of her craft, just as the painter squeezes oil colors onto his palette ready to create a masterpiece."

- Keith Floyd, endearing British celebrity chef who
enjoyed diverse cuisines and a good slurp of wine.

The same country that invented the Michelin Guide taught locally born
Jacques Pepin to cook for Presidents -- both French & American.
Monsieur Pepin cooked for die-hard traditionalist Charles de Gaulle
and went on to cook for the American middle class at Howard Johnson!
If he could graduate from vol-au-vent in France to fried clams under
the big orange roof --- giving and getting pleasure in the effort ---
then we ought to give up our preconceived notion of snooty French food.

The world has benefited from the school of French cooking.
Ever since Escoffier first developed the idea of cooking stations,
still valued 100 years later -- we've been enlightened.
Published in 1903,"Le Guide Culinary" had Escoffier gifting us
with new techniques and lighter, more refined cooking.
Yet some still cling to old myths.

Then there's Paris.
Always Paris.
From tête de veau (traditional) to stripped down, raw, pickled or smoked nasty
bits and pieces (young & cool), you'll discover the real French cuisine.
If you want a pastrami sandwich, you can find one in Paris.
True, that's not remotely French -- but that's my point.
France celebrates good food. Period.
Although personally, I'd save the pastrami for a trip to New York.
Try the truffled scrambled eggs instead.

Most importantly, don't let food guilt enter your mind
when you have the opportunity to eat "French".
No one has ever gotten pregnant or gone to jail for eating a delicious steak tartare.

"Seize the moment."
"Remember all those women on the 'Titanic' who waved off the dessert cart."
- Erma Bombeck