Category: French Food

Fifty Shades of French Food

2/17/2018

Eating in France ought to be an Olympic sport.
No bones about it, I'd be a shoo-in for the Gold Medal.

You see, as I prepare for my umpteenth trip to France, I must confess.
Most of my prep time has been devoted to fantasizing, scheming,
drooling, mapping and organizing every place and bite I hope to devour.
Am I ashamed?
Absolutely not.
Hell-bent on laying an organized, mouthwatering plan
is the best part of engineering a Paris vacation blueprint.

Thanks to my overly-stimulated brain and appetite,
I've conceptualized the greatest ever master-plan of irresistible
restaurants in Paris, Antibes, Nice and surrounding communities*.
*home base cities for my upcoming trip

Where to begin?
That's easy.
Start with the past, the places and feasts you've loved the most;
then dig deep into your no-holds-barred overheated imagination and LET GO.

"In France, cooking is a serious art form and a national sport."
Julia Child

Food isn't the only reason France inspires -- but it sure seals the deal!

Impure thoughts about French food come as naturally as breathing.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner rival even the most sacrosanct
French treasures we already know and love.
Just try to choose from the following short list:
The Louvre, the Mediterranean coast, the Alps -- or
a truffle-filled omelet with a side of duck-fat-fried-potatoes.
Hmmm, that one's tough....

Then there's my annual dilemma:
How many museums can I fit into an already overloaded schedule?
The cultural side of Paris offers an incredible number of enlightening
and entertaining adventures -- something like 300+ museums on offer -- yet
it's always a challenge to choose the perfect few in a city with so many choices.

How's this for a strategy?
Choose the best bistro/bakery/wine-bar first and foremost,
then narrow down your museum and attraction list for a winner-take-all
tie-breaking vote organized by taste-buds.

"My doctor told me I had to stop throwing intimate dinners for four
unless there are three other people."
Orson Welles, award-winning American actor and bon vivant

Regional cuisine, grand cuisine, or grandma cuisine -- it's always served with passion.

French food is often likened to ritzy and sophisticated -- and yes, at times it is.
Terms like gastronomic and haute cuisine discourage regular folks.
But the truth is far more approachable.

Grandma's cooking -- and her crepe pan -- is just as celebrated in the
annuls of France's cultural heritage as the Michelin movers & shakers.
And who doesn't love Grandma?

Nothing fussy, just delicious.
Take wine as another example -- yes, wine is food in France, that's a given.
On a hot day in Provence, the locals will plop a few ice cubes into their rosé -- a
habit that would set a wine connoisseur's hair on fire.
But the French know what they know.
Check out any café terrace in Aix-en-Provence on a hot summer day.
The natives love their rosé, finding it more enjoyable when iced -- and
don't care two figs what the "experts" say.

Old school vs. fancy.... pot-au-feu and casseroles vs. caviar and lobster....
blue plate special vs. tasting menu.... even the lowly lentil has status here.
And every good Frenchman knows, a picnic is the bomb!

As far as desserts go, the French imagination knows no bounds.
We all remember our "first time" -- Hey -- of course,
I'm referring to our first taste of France.

A quick stop in a French patisserie is like taking leisurely dip into erotic literature. What you bring home will certainly keep you warm on a cold night.
Pleasure - corruption -- lust, it's all there.
No matter which acclaimed baker or bakery you crave, the unending
pageant of exotic pastries read like an Anaïs Nin novel.
Like they say in the movies, "if you've got it, flaunt it."

"First we eat, then we do everything else."
M.F.K. Fisher

Speaking of sexy, a shellfish platter in France is the holy
grail of love and lust that just might keep you awake at night.
Layers of goodness, ripe with color and scent, this artful expression of
succulent goodness is as good as a kiss from Neptune, god of the sea.
A love affair set on a mountain of ice may seem an unlikely setting -- but then
again, this gluttony for French food is a bit twisted -- all in a good way, bien sur.

If that's not enough to tempt you to pack your bags tout de suite,
then try this on for size.
France practically lives for the chance to dine en terrace -- outdoors
and preferably in the sun.
With just a sliver of blue sky and the promise of a warm day,
the French put a premium on restaurant real estate that's closer to
Mother Nature than to Monsieur or Madame le Chef.
Everything tastes better when served à l'extérieur, n'est-ce pas?

Hint: If you're falling short on your cultural must-do list, think alfresco
lunch in the gardens of the historic Palais Royal -- or consider one
of the many options on offer at some of Paris' finest museums.
You'll get it all -- history, exquisite dining, style, and joie de vivre.
Ooh baby, this is going to be good.

Need I mention cheese? Or chocolate?
The two staples of France -- slip in a glass or two of champagne....
Just one taste and your french seduction is complete.

Even as the EU tries to brand raw milk cheeses unhealthy -- flagged
as a health risk -- France continues to thumb its nose at authorities.
Pasteurization is considered sacrilegious to many cheese producers in France.
They insist their product remain "alive", preserving full flavor and
prolonging the historic legacy of fine french food products.
So are these farmers hooligans?
Definitely not, more like angels and heroes.
Who wouldn't approve their passionate call of duty
and devotion to authentic traditions.

Please, please, please, look into regional favorites wherever you go.
Not just fresh produce or the cheese of the moment.
Rather, do a little discovery groundwork of your own.
Fresh trout from the fresh waters of the Pyrenees, chicken from Bresse,
and melons from Provence will take your breath away.
French locals are proud to offer their best to you each day.

And don't forget international cuisine when you visit.
Israeli food in the Marais? Of course.
North African cookery in Marseilles? You betcha.
Vietnamese, Mexican, yes, even Memphis BBQ in Paris.
My heart hurts just imaging the choices.
As a matter of fact, had I spent as much time editing my book as I
have my restaurant wish-list, I may have had a bestseller on my hands....

But ooh baby, my list of must-do restaurants reads like
a book of erotica, it's that good.
Fifty shades of French food.
Fatal attraction?
Perhaps, but I think I'll survive.
Bon appétit, everyone!

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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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Paris Beyond the First Blush

8/29/2014

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Le Passe-Muraille by Marcel Aymé is freaky fun just off the beaten path in Montmartre

That first glimpse of Paris left me breathless.

As a young girl, I didn't know what to expect.
The big monuments like the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe are my first memory
and I still remember how curious it felt to look at people, so stylish and elegant,
as far from my Midwestern roots as you could get.

It was as close to an out-of-body experience as I'll probably ever realize.

The Burghers of Calais by Auguste Rodin

But after that first blush of Paris, it's always been about the little things.
The window of temptations at Gerard Mulot, brimming with sticky tarts and seductive cakes.
That first taste of vin ordinaire you order at lunch, so surprisingly good.
A sneaky peek into a hidden courtyard or an open door.
Posters in the Metro that are both sexy and smart.
The surprising wallop of a tiny sprig of parsley - remarkably memorable.
Lovers cuddling closely on a bench in Parc Monceau.
A well-behaved dog happily ensconced under a table at his master's feet.

Once, as I sat at a café table, a large dog came running around the corner.
The mustachioed Gallic waiter greeted him and offered a very large bone from the bistro
platter he carried, abruptly turned and went back inside as the dog happily returned "home".
It was as if they met every day at the same time and place.
It was exactly 3pm.
No need for the standard "Vous avez choisi?"

French children are adorable.
Oh sure, all kids are cute but seriously, les enfants are spectacular.
I do miss the old days when schoolchildren sported tabliers (smocks) to protect
their good clothes. Today you're more likely to see Nike shoes and ballcaps.
But still, they already have that "something-something" that sets them apart.
Sweet little voices and appealing accents trigger a pause and
a much needed time-out from sightseeing activities.

Art museums, galleries, street art, unpredictable little touches of artistic
ingenuity grab you every time you turn around.
Every neighborhood seems to have its own special flavor.

The first time I stood in front of Rodin's Burghers of Calais I wept.
He captured emotion like I've never seen before. And in bronze!
It made the blood pulse through my veins.
That's what Paris brings to the table.
Just open your eyes and let it in.

Speaking of the table, la cuisine francaise isn't a myth.
They don't mess around. Good food is expected.
My favorite meals usually involve simple fresh food or a hint of grandma's cooking.
So many choices, there's never enough time for it all.
You can flirt with every cuisine around the world -- It's all in Paris.
Do you want couscous or banh mi today?

The pairing of food and wine is taken seriously in Paris and all of France.
In proper French dining etiquette, you're supposed to choose your food first, then the wine.

Why?
It just makes sense.

How can you choose your wine before the meal
when you don't know what food you're having?
The food and wine should be complimentary
like a horse & carriage, not putting the cart before the horse.
That's why you're asked if you'd like an aperitif before your meal.
It's not meant to accompany the feast.
It's meant to bait your taste buds and invite your appetite to dinner.

In Paris we're able to dance with kings, embrace an emperor and paint the masters.
We can discover our inner poet, political firebrand or wandering minstrel. Which ever brand
you choose, I'll wager you'll end up embracing the romance of your new imaginary self.
Go ahead, scratch your itch.
After all, who isn't better after visiting the capitol of France?

Paris is for fun people.
You know, the kind that like to sneak off to have a smoke when the boss isn't looking.
The ones who can tell a good joke at a party.
Or who aren't too scared to backpack through Europe.

I'm not brave. Not even a little. But when I'm in Paris, I feel like a rock star.
Without question, I'm way more fun than the grownup who lives in Nashville.
I can stay awake until the wee hours, I can drink more, I'm able to eat more and still feel good.
When I'm in Paris, I notice everything around me, no sleepwalking allowed.
I'm a pirate and a princess.

Naturally, it was a Frenchman, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry of Le Petit Prince fame,
who sagely wrote "We see well only with the heart."
So true, so true, our hearts are full of Paris moments.

American transplant Josephine Baker said it well in her hit "J'ai Deux Amours"
(written by Vincent Scotto, Georges Koger & Henri Varna, loosely translated to English below)

I Have Two Loves

It is said that above the seas,
Over there under the clear sky,
Exists a city, where the stay is enchanted,
And under the big black trees,
Every evening,
Towards it tend all my hopes.

I have two loves
My country and Paris.
By them always
Is my heart ravished.
My savannah* is beautiful,
But why deny that
what puts a spell on me is Paris,
Paris in its entirety.

Seeing it one day
Is my pretty dream.
I have two loves,
My country and Paris.

When at the distant shore
I sometimes see a ship depart
To him I extend my arms
And heart beating with excitement,
Whisper softly, I say, “Take me!”

I have two loves…

*In Madeleine Peyroux's version, she substituted Manhattan for my savannah.

Oh yes, it's all in that song -- "my heart ravished by Paris."
If you want to live life to the fullest, go to Paris.
End that dull old routine. Search for a plot twist --- the good kind.
Two loves may well be better than one.

After that first blush of Paris, you're in for the full body rosy-tinted look of love.

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Don't Eat the First One!

8/25/2014

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Just like Mom's -- there's nothing better!

One of my favorite childhood memories is of my French mama standing at the stove flipping crêpes and fussing at me, "Don't eat the first one." She insisted the first crêpe of the batch wasn't any good. I would assert it was perfect as I quickly grabbed it, relishing my favorite treat. We'd go through the same dance every time.

Her crêpes were perfect, thin and crispy on the outside, soft and comforting on the inside.
I'd sprinkle a spoonful of sugar on each one, roll it up and pop it in my mouth,
savoring each bite as if it were made by Escoffier himself.

Pretending to eat daintily at first, with each subsequent bite my addiction
took over until I became more like Homer Simpson in both manners and expanding belly.
I would sit for as long as she was willing to twirl the batter into the hot skillet, wait until the undercarriage was slightly browned and crisp and gracefully flip it in the air to finish.
My brother and I competed to see who could eat the most. By the time our crêpe feast was over, we would both be a bit wired from the combination of the carbs and sugar.

Mom would finally sit down to eat the last crêpe and complain "Oh, this batch isn't very good." Every time.

I hate making crêpes. There, I've said it.
For someone who loves to cook, crêpe-making should be a no-brainer.
Milk, flour, eggs and butter form the base and it's just a matter of whipping them up, letting them set up (oh, the patience part, there lies the problem) and then practicing my swirl and flip.
Ugh. Not my thing. Didn't inherit the crêpe-creating gene. But I sure like eating them.

In France, crêpes are as popular as ever.
An original French "fast food" staple, you'll spot a crêperie in just about
every town, particularly in the region of Brittany, where they're called galettes.
The chief ingredient in a galette (sometimes called blé noir) is buckwheat flour
which gives them a heartier look, darker and somehow more serious than
their flour-based counterparts but oh, they taste like heaven!
They're still thin as a movie starlet, and delicately gauzy as the lace curtains in most of the local establishments. I guess the Breton talent for lace-making translates to their favorite food.

Filled with pretty much anything you choose -- but hold on, not too much! -- these crêpes are my 2nd favorite (after Mom's, of course!). The locals wash them down with cider, usually a slightly alcoholic version, served in pretty bowls instead of cups. One time I made a mistake, ordering a glass of wine in a tiny crêperie in Auray and got a funny look from the server.
He was apologetic after I tasted the vinegar he served and tried to explain
it's probably been behind the bar for several years.
Lesson learned. Drink what the locals drink.
p.s. Brittany is the only region in France that doesn't make wine. Duh!

A hearty galette is perfect any time of the day

Dessert crepes.
I forgot to mention my mother's crêpes suzette, the wildly boozy, show-off version of crêpes. When I was growing up, she used to make them for my boyfriends.
Now you know how I got a date every Saturday night...

Julia Child made them famous here in America.
Who can forget how easy she made it look, just a little extra sugar, butter, o.j.
and orange peel with a dose of brandy and poof -- it flames tableside.
Great show, great taste of France.

Other French chefs make fancy savory versions, filled with ham and gruyere cheese, rolled and topped with tons of cream and baked in a hot oven --- over the top delicious!
A good crêpe will cure anything.

Crèpes are for breakfast, lunch or dinner. Any time is the right time.
And kids love them! It's a great way to introduce your child to new foods.
No box to open, no weird ingredients, just wholesome goodness.
And, admit it, they're a little bit sexy. Pick one up and feed it to your partner.
Go ahead, call it a French kiss.

Have you ever heard of socca?
It's a crêpe made famous in the south of France, specifically in Nice.
A simple combination of chickpea flour, olive oil and salt & pepper on a very hot griddle does the trick - et voila, you have an amazing treat.
Highly recommended.

Ultra-thin socca is a chickpea sensation in Provence

Crêperies are a welcome escape from fancy food and high prices

It seems that every culture around the world boasts their own interpretation of the crêpe.
Toad-in-the-hole from Great Britain, dosas from India, scallion pancakes from China,
tiganites from Greece and palacsinta (fabulous, often filled with poppy seeds and
sugared cottage cheese) from Hungary just to name a few.
I love a good Dutch Baby recipe -- sort of a souffléd crêpe baked in a
hot cast iron skillet and filled with apples or berries.

My other crêpe-related childhood memories include pancake breakfasts at church.
These were not remotely thin nor were they french.
They were hearty, made in the American/Swedish/German manner.
The pancakes were out of this world and so much fun, heaped with maple syrup and love.

Here in Nashville, we have a wildly popular eatery called Pancake Pantry. There's always a long line of hungry diners outside the door, waiting to get their favorite version of more than a dozen different choices. It's a staple for both locals and out-of-town guests. I can't bring myself to try their version of crêpes but I've eaten my fill of good old American-style pancakes and am especially fond of their potato version. With more than a dozen interpretations of pancakes a few of their popular choices include sweet potato pancakes, blintzes, and Pigs in a Blanket. Who knows, you might even run into Taylor Swift or Vince Gill while you're there.

In Music City we also have a suspiciously named pancake of sorts called the hoecake. Decidedly southern and sometimes referred to as a johnnycake, it is decidedly not healthy, especially when cooked in bacon grease à la Paula Deen, a popular southern-fried chef.
Hoe cakes are deliciously cornmeal based, a real treat. They're about as far from a crêpe as any pancake I know but I still recommend a nibble if you're up for a taste of the old South.

Here's a fun crêperie we visited in Collioure, France with a bus inside the restaurant!

Typical Breton bowls

Back to my favorites pancake of all, crêpes -- in my favorite city of all,
Paris, where there is much to celebrate.
The Montparnasse neighborhood in particular is a beehive of crêpe activity.
Traditionally, Breton natives would leave their villages in Brittany, bound for the big city,
arrive at gare Montparnasse where they would set up traditional shops nearby selling
their famous nourishment. You can't walk very far in the neighborhood without
running into a favorite crêperie in the charismatic streets surrounding the train station.

There are dozens of crêpe restaurants in Paris, including street vendors.
Parisians generally don't walk and eat but you'll see plenty of tourists doing that,
holding their banana and nutella paper-wrapped treasures and looking very
pleased as they stroll and munch.
It's a true portrait of Paris.

Whether you're in Brittany, Nashville or Paris -- or Budapest or Hong Kong
for that matter, enjoy one of life's most perfect treats, the crêpe.

W.C. Fields once said,
"The laziest man I ever met put popcorn in his pancakes
so they would turn over by themselves."

Me: "Hmmm, would that work with crêpes, too?"

OK, probably not.
Guess I'm forced to go back to Paris to get my sweet fix.
A bientot, I'm packing my bags right now!

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Fat & Happy in Paris

7/31/2014

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It's his fault. I can't help it, I'm daffy for duck.
Duck fat, to be specific. And cheese. And salami. All things FAT.
Don't forget the chocolate and the cream. And for heavens sake, never nix the butter.

I still remember my first taste of duck confit. I almost fainted dead away with pleasure.
Then there's duck paté - so rich, so velvety, surely it's made in heaven.
No doubt about it, potatoes fried in duck fat deserve the medal of honor.

What is it about these rich foods that we find so appealing?
Taste? Yes! Texture? Yes! Sinfulness? Yes!

I reserve a special PHOOEY for those who wish to ban foie gras.
They'll never convince me of their moral superiority.
Foie gras, like so many of these beloved fats, are a gift, an extravagance,
a lesson in gratification that we all need.

These foods are not for every day (unless you're vacationing in France!)
but they should be enjoyed without guilt.

Go Ahead, Dig into that Chocolate Delight from le Comptoir du Relais!

Cassoulet. Soufflé. Quiche Lorraine. Choucroute garnie.
Escargot bathed in parsley/garlic butter. Kouign Amann. Raclette.
Just a few famous French treats that should be at the top of your Greatest Hits list.
Try them. Enjoy them.
Note to Self: Don't consult your doctor first.

Wine is also food. It feeds the soul. But really, that's a whole other blog.
And ice cream. Sigh.....

"There is no sincerer love than the love of food." - George Bernard Shaw

SHARE THE GOOD STUFF WITH SOMEONE YOU LOVE

p.s. If you enjoy food, please read my novel "The Paris Effect." You'll gain 10 pounds.

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42 Restaurants in 14 Days

6/10/2014

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42 restaurants in 14 days! You're right, it can't be done.

But that's how many restaurants I had meticulously listed (including address, days closed, and nearest Metro) for my two-week trip to Paris last Fall.

It's not that I'm completely whacko, I just enjoy my bistros, always looking for the next great taste. Delicious food, enjoyable surroundings, and the art of dining are all reasons we have come to expect the best when planning our next lunch or dinner in our favorite foodie city.

By the way, that's a heavenly cassoulet about to be served from a deluxe copper pot. Two HUGE bowls and we only ordered (and paid) for one serving at the Auberge des Pyrénées Cévennes.

Hungry yet?

Would you prefer something a little lighter than a cassoulet?

How does this appetizer from La Table d'Eugene look to you? That's a heavenly watermelon sorbet in the center surrounded by all things too good to be true......

In Paris, your taste buds get a workout morning, noon and night.

As Julia Child once said,
"Everything in moderation .....
including moderation."

Check please!

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Fifty Shades of French Food

The Soul of French Cuisine: Soup

Paris Beyond the First Blush

Don't Eat the First One!

Fat & Happy in Paris

42 Restaurants in 14 Days

AUTHOR
MICHELLE MOGGIO
Thanks for visiting my blog!

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Fifty Shades of French Food

The Soul of French Cuisine: Soup

Paris Beyond the First Blush

Don't Eat the First One!

Fat & Happy in Paris

42 Restaurants in 14 Days

AUTHORMICHELLE MOGGIOThanks for visiting my blog!

Archives

Categories

AUTHOR
MICHELLE MOGGIO
Thanks for visiting my blog!