I am ecstatic for owners Braden Perkins and Laura Adrian (American) who have braved the Parisian red tape and opened their very own stunning restaurant in the prestigious Palais-Royal quartier of Paris.

This ex-pat couple delivers the French dining experience that so many of us want to believe still exists. And it is popular with both the French and ex-pat community alike. I’m telling you the American’s in Paris are doing some great food (Daniel Rose – need I say more?)

Perhaps you remember Hidden Kitchen. It was written up in Bon Appetit, Gourmet, and a plethora of travel sites? Braden and Laura used to hold underground 12 course tasting menus in their adorable Parisian apartment. These dinners were so incredible that the food glitterati declared it a ‘must’ while visiting Paris. Braden would concoct clean, stylized, tasty plates while Laura would host/sous chef and attend to the wine selection. Quite the dynamic duo.

They realized their dream this year with the opening of Verjus in the prestigious cobblestoned quartier, Palais Royal. And excuse my French here, but they have totally knocked it out the park. I’m not just saying that because I know them and find them to be an extremely talented couple. I’m saying that because it’s true.

I always feel special when I see them – but they make everyone feel special.

Self-taught Chef Braden holds court upstairs and continues to serve a beautiful and seasonal tasting menu that changes more frequently than any restaurant I know of in Paris. He draws upon world flavors (especially Asian) to bring French ingredients and traditional dishes to new heights. And he’s not afraid of flavor. I like his riffs on American classics too like the spicy popcorn chicken pictured second that is served in the wine bar. I ate two orders back to back.

French cuisine is often too subtle and sometimes too balanced in the flavor department, Braden brings excitement by introducing new flavors, spices, and unusual combinations. His presentation is clean but organic and not overly micro-managed. That’s not to say that his attention to detail is remiss – he is a perfectionist – but his plates are not fussy and they have a masculine flare. By the way, order anything that comes with dan-dan sauce. Man, that stuff is delicious.

Downstairs, in the cobblestone cave (it’s street level, but still has that secret hideaway feel) Laura commands the wine bar. I like to sit at the bar and drink whatever she feels is perfect for the moment and order off the bar bite menu. And I love to watch her switch effortlessly between French and English, smoothly acknowledging newcomers and tending to the rest of us in need of food and libation. Laura knows wine. She has an interesting and well-priced list and she always introduces me to something new.

Most people don’t realize how difficult it is for small business owners in Paris. Not to mention ex-pat small business owners. I won’t bore you with the laborious insane process of just getting the doors open, but it’s not easy. Even for the French, running a restaurant with all the taxes and red tape make it hard to succeed. And this is probably why Paris restaurants are a mixed bag. It’s hard to make a profit and corners are cut, frozen replaces fresh, and restaurants get run down. It is NOT because the French don’t know how to cook well.

Verjus is special. The love and hard work that Braden and Laura have put into this beautiful restaurant has not gone unnoticed. If you don’t believe me then take Saveur’s word for it or Paris By Mouth.

Or better yet, take my friend Meg Zimbeck’s relaxed and peaceful expression as testament.

This is my top choice in Paris and I hope you will give it a try and say ‘hi’ for me!

The post Farewell Hidden Kitchen, Hello Verjus! first appeared on Amy Glaze's Pommes d'Amour.

Yes…yes…YES!!! (oui…oui…OUI!!!)

How they make this magical thick hot chocolate is a mystery to me. There’s controversy in chocolate land on whether or not milk should be used, or cream, or a combination and whether powdered chocolate is prefered over melted. And yes, I have asked on several occasions what the secret is. And no, I never get a response – just a reminder that the hot chocolate is for sale in the lobby in a powdered version that I can make at home that doesn’t taste anything like what they serve in the restaurant. (It’s still good, just not as good).

Thankfully this is not my world or expertise, and I just know that I like coming here.

What’s not so sexy  about this grand institution is that fact that the building is slowly crumbling and if you look close at the ceiling you will see paint peeling and water damage. The lighting is wannabe natural with an enormous florescent lit ceiling and some actual daylight that streams through the front window displays. I could do without the greenish glow – it makes me feel like I’m back in high school – and that’s a bad thing.

Despite the wear and tear and a few annoying 1970’s attempts at modernization, this place has held it’s ground on Rue Rivoli since 1903 and the gold gilt still covers the walls with a nod to a more opulent era. Opened by a Hungarian couple this cafe was once known as Rumplemayors. Famous people have long visited for the African hot chocolate (with not too sweet whipped cream served on the side – yum) including Audrey Hepburn, Coco Chanel, and maybe even YOU! They do serve a nice breakfast and an okay traditional French bistro fare lunch – I opt for the salads.

The waiters deliver excellent timely, friendly, and professional service and speak English. I enjoy the front of house hustle and bustle here. And the line that is toujours a mile long to get a table, moves fast. The hostess is on her game at all times and I have always been greeted and seated with courtesy.

The pastries are gorgeous and sometimes tasty. Yes, I really just said that. It’s so easy to be a critic isn’t it? When in fact each little dessert is a plethora of French pastry techniques requiring so much work and skill. Angelina’s pastry shop is very good but, but when you are living in Paris (or any city) you get to know certain places for certain things.

For me, there is something romantic about spending the day leisurely strolling through Jardin de Tuileries and taking in an exhibit at Le Louvre and then resting my weary feet in front of a heart warming, soul soothing cup of thick chocolat chaud.

Rain or shine, Angelina’s is legendary and Le chocolat Africain is divine.

For more recommendations on Angelina’s check out Paris by Mouth

The post Angelina’s in Paris first appeared on Amy Glaze's Pommes d'Amour.

And only from this particular shop in Paris, in the heart of the Marais, on Rue de Rosiers.

I am not the first to write about this place. But after 8 years of eating here, the experience never ceases to amaze me. And therefore I feel compelled to add my review to the long list of fanatical followers.

When I cooked in Paris this was my Sunday go-to because not a lot else was open and it was a healthy  and affordable place to grab lunch. L’As du Fallafel is closed on Saturday to observe the Sabbath but they serve up tasty food all afternoon on Sunday. In America restaurants are rarely closed on Sunday but not so in France. Although this is beginning to change, it can be a real drag when the last thing you want to do on your day off from cooking 14 hours a day is cook.

L’As du Fallafel is kosher. It is affordable. And it is always great. I love the fact that after years of eating here it is still reliable. The service is: friendly, English speaking, and high energy (I like that.) And the team in back of house and front remains the same – always a good sign.

Although L’As du Fallafel has a restaurant,  I go to the street food window where the line extends for at least a block (but moves fast, so don’t worry). You can get fries on top and extra sauce, but that’s sort of a teenage thing to do – or a very drunk thing to do. Piling on fried salty food with extra hot sauce always sounds better when intoxicated.

The lamb schwerma is excellent, but sometimes it just feels good to pig out on a crazy delicious vegetarian meal. How often does that happen right? (Joking here, joking…)

So just what makes this kosher vegetarian falafel so crazy good that it literally attracts people from all the world? Is it the super fresh made-right-before-your-eyes chickpea fritters? Or the warm squishy homemade pita bread? Or the juicy cucumber, shredded cabbage, roasted eggplant, tomato, parsley, and spicy harissa sauce or rich tahini? Or what? What is it?

I don’t know. I wish I did. I wanted to recreate this sandwich so badly at Citizen Cake. I spent weeks trying to perfect it. I soaked dried chickpeas for days. I shredded vegetables. I made humous. I made harrissa.  And it was good, but it just wasn’t this. (No shame in trying.)

It might sound bizarre to be highly recommending a visit to L’As du Fallafel on your next trip to Paris given the amount of Michelin Starred restaurants, but you must. It’s one of those things that can’t  be explained but must be experienced for oneself.

And besides, walking around in the Marais – the incredible Jewish and Gay quarter filled with history & modern trendy-chic fashion and culture – falafel in hand, window shopping and munching on a deliciously sloppy sandwich on a beautiful Sunday afternoon is not a bad way to spend the day.

Address: 

Telephone: +33.01.48.87.63.60

The post L’As du Fallafel first appeared on Amy Glaze's Pommes d'Amour.

Why the big opinion? Because I cooked for Guy Savoy in Paris and Le Bernardin in NYC and I always relate everything back to that level of quality. And I know and love French Cuisine. And I know a lot of food is plain mediocre in Paris right now.

I booked my reservation for Septime two months in advance for lunch. FOR LUNCH! I told my husband that I was not going to drag him to 3-Michelin star restaurants but instead to the restaurants where new young chefs were touting Michelin-star pedigree with a Michelin star quality dining experience for a fair price in a more casual trendy-chic environment.

I arrive at Septime – for lunch– in the 11th on rue Charonne which is becoming more upscale by the day but it still manages to retain its artisan eclectic funky past. My husband and I are greeted at the door by the Maître D with a genuine smile rarely given over so easily in Paris. We relax. We feel like we’re in a San Francisco restaurant because the design is sleek with an industrial edge and open kitchen.

We are seated at a table that faces the kitchen. And my chair directly faces the Chef. I like that. Hey, that’s why I came – I wanted to see the kitchen and the new chef who is changing the stuffy old regime. But perhaps this was not a good idea because I am totally engrossed in everything happening. And the fact that the Garde Manger Chef de Partie is continuously biting her nails in between plating dishes is driving me absolutely crazy.

She catches my eye, drops her hand immediately, then puts it back in her mouth again biting furiously, until I catch her eye again. I get the feeling she is amped on adrenaline and new to the profession. But it’s an open kitchen…

Whatever. Let it go. You came here to enjoy…

The Sommelier comes to our table and his air of hospitality is praise worthy. We have decided upon the Chef’s tasting menu (well priced – a bargain actually) and we would like wines to match but not for every course because we don’t want to leave drunk. It’s lunchtime afterall. The sommelier brings new glasses of wine only after we finish the previous. It’s casual. His suggestions are new to me, excellently priced, and pair flawlessy with the dishes.

The food is very French. Meaning: delicate and organic in presentation and artfully layered & earthy in flavor. Suprisingly, the first course is a disaster. I find a very alive worm in my fresh bacalao fish starter. I alert the server. I explain that I understand this happens to her in French, but please, take it away.

I cooked fish at Le Bernardin. We would go through over 800 pounds of fish a day. I have had the opportunity to work with many, many different sea creatures. I know mistakes happen, but this one was one that should have been caught.

The server brings it to the chef and I am watching this conversation between the two from my chair. The server returns to me and attempts to try and explain why this was no big deal. I’m shocked. How do you not find a 3-inch wriggling roundworm in a hand flaked piece of lightly cooked cod that is no bigger than 1/2-inch in thickness? I found it because I saw the large brown dot in the center of the fish flake that always signals a worm is there.

If the Garde Manger Chef de Partie was paying more attention to her dishes than to her fingernails, perhaps this mistake might have been avoided.

There is no reason why I should have to give up my credentials in order to get a simple apology and move on with the meal. Just because I’m American doesn’t mean I’m stupid. The correct response to a customer, no matter what the country, is not to tell them the mistsake is ‘okay’ or ‘normal’ and then argue with them over whether it is or isn’t. The correct response is to remove the offending dish. Apologize. Bring out the next dish. Apologize again. Bring out extra wine. Comp the meal. And hope that they don’t write about it like I’m dong right now.

I’m upset. My husband grabs my hand and asks if I want to go. I pull myself together. I have been looking forward to this meal for months – everyone said it was a fantastic restaurant. But I wasn’t expecting to have an argument over something so ridiculously not okay and then have a server attempt to tell me that I’m pretty much an idiot. I’m insulted. It’s not about the worm – that’s a natural occurance and a trained eye knows what to look for – but I’m furious over the server’s response to my complaint.

The Maître D takes over our table for the rest of the meal which is a relief. The kitchen sends out a free dish that is tasty and beautiful to replace the last one. The Sommelier brings out new pairings. Septime is rebounding well.

We quickly get over the first course and move on to the next which is a divine plate of fat sweet & juicy white asparagus cooked perfectly. I could eat this all day. Pretty little leaves of mizuna decorate the dish and the garnishes are seemingly simple but I know otherwise…

The next course is a perfectly poached farm fresh egg set in a shitake mushroom broth. Earthy and delicious. Simple and satiating…

The main course is lamb cooked three ways. The dish is successful. The lamb parts are prepared using different techniques: sous vide, braised, cured. Again, the chef has proven his skill. He does not draw attention to the effort involved, instead the plate feels organic as a whole and nicely decorated with baby root vegetables and more mizuna leaves. (Okay, what’s with all the mizuna?) No part of the dish outshines the other. It’s harmonious.

My favorite dish of the tasting menu is the dessert. This is often the case for me because by the time I get to the last course I’m pretty soused and the only parts to the meal I can recall the next day are all the mistakes that were made and the last dish. I like dessert so I often leave feeling that everything was great!

It’s unusual to find English style crumbles in Paris but that’s just what this is, an apple-rhubarb crumble with a perfectly coiffed scoop of the most amazing ‘hay’ flavored vanilla ice cream. I love the dairy products in France – they are sooo good. This hay flavor is unusual and a great balance to the crumble and the tart-sweetness of the apple & rhubarb combo.

The Maître D brings our check. They have taken off my meal which is the right thing to do. He clearly has a degree in hospitality and I appreciate his demeanor. He bends over to me and whispers: with your background you know better, that should not have happened, we are very sorry and hope that you will join us again.

We leave a generous tip covering the amount of the tasting menu anyways. Mistakes happen. Wrongs are righted. The food was beautiful, healthful, organic, and with the exception of one dish prepared by one very new cook – harmonious and excellently executed.

Food is a natural product bound to have imperfections. If it doesn’t then it’s genetically engineered, right? And we are only human. What separates good restaurants from bad is not necessarily the food itself but the experience as a whole.

We’ll be back!

Restaurant Septime

The post Septime in Paris first appeared on Amy Glaze's Pommes d'Amour.

Nicholas did his apprenticeship at Michel Rostang after culinary school and worked his way up through the brigade to Chef de Parti. After five years, he left to take the position of sous chef at Le Meurice, under Executive Chef Yannik Alleno, and helped drive the team to 3 Michelin Star success.

I met Chef Beaumann during his tenure at Le Meurice five years ago. And if rumors in the Parisian cooking world hold true, he was highly regarded then for his consistency in leadership and dedication to perfection. He’s a bit of a whip cracker, but a good one.

Now he is back at Michel Rostang as the Executive chef, and I am sure he will be reaching for a third Michelin star in the near future.

What a small world the Michelin star restaurant business is. Everyone knows everyone…

I sit down to dine at Michele Rostang and instantly I’m treated like an old friend. Bruno, The Maître D, and Alain, the Chef Sommelier, who I’ve met only a few times in the past keep me company asking about my exerience at Le Bernardin in NYC.

How’s Maguy Le Coz? (the owner of Le Bernardin). Is there a man named Tommy there? He works on the floor? We remember Le Bernardin when it was in Paris! (This was over 20 years ago and once located in the space that is now Guy Savoy). Are you coming back to live in Paris? (No, wish I was). Work at Guy Savoy peut-être? (No, don’t think I could handle the long hours again or the double taxation).

Guy Savoy, the restaurant I cooked at in Paris is located just a few blocks away from restaurant Michele Rostang in the 17th arrondisement close to the L’Arc de Triumph and the Champs Élysées. The two restaurants share clientele, a similar style of cuisine (traditional yet modern), and often cooks jump ship from one to the other. It’s a good relationship and one that has spanned 20 years.

This small world does have it’s perks. The Maître D takes me with him to another table to demonstrate how the ‘duck press’ works. (I just asked to see it, I didn’t ask to be part of the table-side presentation.)

“Are you sure they won’t mind? I don’t want to disrupt their dinner.”

“Oh don’t worry, they won’t mind, they’re regulars, come on, I’ll show you how to press a duck, it will be fun!”

I can’t imagine being a regular at any Michelin star restaurant, but follow along for the ride. Bruno expertly cuts the legs off the duck and then the breasts. He places them to one side.

“Amy, you cook the duck rare, very rare. See? The breast is almost bleu.”

I watch from the side feeling slightly self-concious that I have now been included in the entertainment. But at the same time realize that this little teaching demonstration is something special.

He takes the bones and the legs and put them expertly in a silver canister. Then loads the canister inside a very large silver hand cranked press that is decorated with ornate silver ducks.

“Now watch. You must come over on this side to see. I will turn the press, and the blood of the duck will run out of the spout. I add it to this duck jus here and the blood thickens the sauce turning it a rich dark brown color.”

It’s beautiful and a little bizarre at the same time. What Bruno is really doing is crushing bones in a very expensive bone-crusher machine. I watch in amazement at this lost art of table side presentation. Servers in France go to school to learn how to do this sort thing. It is a career – a profession! – not a temporary job to make a few tips in between Broadway musicals auditions.

The Maître D whisks his mixture over a low burning flame. As the blood heats up it acts as a thickener turning the thin duck jus into a velvety sauce thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. Blood, as we all know, coagulates.

He pours the chocolate colored sauce onto a large porcelain platter that rests above silver bunsen burners, not exactly camping material. Next, he returns to the breasts and slices off extra thin cutlets placing them directly into the sauce

“You see, the sauce will cook the duck just a little more. If you cook the sauce too much over the heat it will separate because of the blood. You must pay attention here. It’s a strong tasting dish, but a good one.”

I have tasted several blood sauces in my Parisian past and made plenty at Le Cordon Bleu. For me they are normally a little too rich for my taste. And blood does have a special metalic taste. Nonetheless, the platter is gorgeous with bright red cutlets of duck breast floating in the earthy sauce. A server whisks away the platter to serve immediately.

I am escorted back to my table which faces the kitchen so I can watch all the action of the evening. Chef Beaumann has prepared a truffle menu that is truly inspired. I wasn’t presented with a menu upon arrival, just a glass of champagne and a huge basket of truffles to ogle over! Some one pinch me please?!?!

I love truffles, but in many cases truffle menus can be somewhat redundant with the same flavors repeated. Not so in this case.

The menu begins with a special amuse bouche: 1/4″-thick slices of black truffles sandwiched in between two pieces of pain de compagne (country bread). The sandwiches are toasted in truffle butter and cut into bite size fingers. Simple yes, but totally decadent.

Actually, I’m lying, the amuse bouche is not so easy to prepare and it must be assembled days in advance to allow the truffles to fully permeate the bread and butter. But the idea is easy enough and the ingredients, although expensive, are few.

My two favorite courses of the evening are the seabass and pigeon. The fish is cooked sous vide (in a water bath at low temperature with a thermo circulator that holds the temerparture steady) garnished with thinly sliced chestnuts, perfectly cut triangles of leeks, and a frothy truffle infused seashell foam.

But the real winner is the last course: pigeon stuffed with foie gras and black truffles under the skin, cooked sous vide until perfectly tender and then pan roasted to sear the skin crisp. The plate is garnished minimally with caramelized salsify. A perfect pairing for the pigeon.

Caramelizing (glazing) vegetables is an art. Too cooked and the vegetables fall apart, too much butter and the lacquer separates, too much sugar and the flavor is ruined.

The pigeon jus is just what jus is supposed to be: pure. There is no roux, no flour, no butter – just pigeon jus reduced for a long time until it has the consistency of oil. I know from experience, this is time consuming. We’re talking hours of reduction here.

The wine pairings are fantastic, and by my last course I’m wondering why I’m still not totally wasted. This little wine habit I’ve developed has definitely got to be reined in. I have tasted (and finished, bien sûr!) five glasses of wine. Starting with a glass of lively Gimonnet Blanc de Blanc Premier Cru Champagne 2002 and ending with an earthy Nuit St. Georges Premier Cru Vaucrains 2003.

But the most exciting wine of the evening for me is the golden yellow Beaucastel Blanc 2005, paired with the seabass. I absolutely adore white Chateauneuf du Pape Blanc and it is so difficult to find in the U.S.

If you’ve never tried a white Chateauneuf du Pape, I suggest you do. It has viognier grape blended with 12-13 other obscure white varietals. It’s sexy with a nose of ripe melon, pear, peach and loads of minerality. A heavier white for sure, compared to other French whites.

The desserts start rolling in and Chef Beaumann takes a break from the kitchen and joins me at the table while the rest of his kitchen staff is scrubbing down the stainless steel.

I sip a 6th glass of wine, a nicely acidic Gewurztraminer Grand Cru Furstentum 2005, while inhaling an apple-truffle pastry as he fills me in on his last few years: his recent marriage (Congrats! It’s about time!), his beautiful son (adorable!), his bid to be the next M.O.F (scrreeeeech – wait whuuuuut????).

For those not familliar with the title of M.O.F. it stands for Meillure Ouvrier de France and it is a craftsmen competition held every three years in France. To win this title for cuisine is like winning an Emmy. Every chef that makes the grade gets to wear (forever) a special chef’s jacket that has a collar made of red, white, and bleu – the French flag. It is an honor hard won.

The sommelier refills my wine glass and now I’m headed straight to hell, because I’m still not even close to tipsy. I finish it, of course, then slurp down an espresso with little cakes and cookies.

Normally I would never get this kind of attention, but it’s a slow Monday night. For the most part restaurants in Paris are closed Sunday and Monday and folks generally stay home. And I think it’s fun for the staff to treat a cook to ‘the other side’ once and awhile. I know we do it at Guy Savoy and at Le Bernardin.

Chef Beaumann takes me back to the kitchen to meet some of the staff and I am happily surprised to see an equal number of female to male cooks. I recognize the female Chef de Viande (meat chef) as the wife of the Sommelier at Guy Savoy (small world, small world) and we exchange greetings before she goes back to scrubbing.

“Chef Beaumann, you have so many women in the kitchen!”

“I knew you would like that.” He laughs.

And just when I think the evening can’t get any better the daughter of Michel Rostang, Caroline, who is the director of the restaurant introduces herself. Another female in the kitchen! I couldn’t be happier.

I float out the front door (glass slippers and all) a little high on the whole experience. The frosty winter Parisian air hits my lungs and my thin silky dress instantly feels like cheesecloth. The wine has no doubt warmed my core and my spirits or I’d be a five foot five ice cube.

I catch a taxi, replay the photos on my camera during the drive home, and wonder if I’ll ever have another dinner quite like this one…

Restaurant Michel Rostang

20 rue Rennequin, Paris, 75017

+33 1 47 63 40 77

The post Voici! The New Executive Chef at Michel Rostang in Paris first appeared on Amy Glaze's Pommes d'Amour.

I’m a pho addict. And when I need my fix I normally trek out to the 13th arrondisement for a big bowl of steamy beef broth filled with thick rice noodles, beef slices, onions, spicy basil, and cilantro. Since the weather has turned cold, I’m finding my cravings for this Vietnamese speciality have increased.

Now that I’ve moved from the stuffy 17th to jazzy St. Michel I have discovered a whole new world. Right across from me (and all the raucous Greek Latin Quarter restaurants) is a quiet hidden street that has several Vietnamese restaurants and markets brimming with Asian produce and products. Apparently this was one of the original areas that the Vietnamese immigrated to in Paris! Who knew?

Pho 67 is a Mom & Son establishment from what I’ve sussed out. The mom is the chef and the son takes care of the service with grace and professionalism. Sometimes you have to wait a little for your soup or main dish because she cuts and chops everything to order. But it’s worth the wait. And everything is super fresh!

I discovered this restaurant on a rainy Paris afternoon with my friend Carol from the beautiful blog Paris Breakfasts. And we just sat over our big bowls of steamy pho inhaling and slurping up the intoxicating mix of herbs, spices, noodles, and rich beef broth wishing the conversation and the meal would never end.

Pho 67
59, Rue Galande
75005 Paris, France
+33 1 43 25 56 69

Technorati Tags: Paris restaurants, pho, soup, vietnamese food

The post Pho 67 in Paris first appeared on Amy Glaze's Pommes d'Amour.

3 Michelin Star French Cuisine:
Guy Savoy: Traditional French cuisine transformed into contemporary elegance. Ask for the 100 euro lunch tasting menu if looking for a fine dining experience without breaking the bank. Guy Savoy is favored by international stars, French politicians, business men, and chic clientele that desire a private secluded atmosphere without all the fussy gold glitz. Service is impeccable, professional, and friendly. Besides, Monsieur Guy Savoy is an international film star now, having played one of the characters in Pixar’s Ratatouille! Do you know which part?
8, rue Troyon, 75008, tel: +33 (0)1 43 80 40 61

Le Meurice A newcomer into the 3-star arena. The très sexe chef Yannick uses traditional and modern cooking techniques to elevate French traditional cuisine to new heights. Set within the beautiful and historic Hotel Meurice, the decor is reminiscent of a more opulent and decadent era. Great service and beautiful sensual food plated with a nod to Japanese presentation. Reserve a table through their website.

Hélène Darroze (two Michelin stars) One of the only female owned restaurants in Paris to receive Michelin rated accolades. Her food is feminine, imaginative, and sensitive drawing upon her native roots in Landes. A very special experience without the self-concious Parisian elite attitude to muck it up. Check it out ASAP before she receives her third star and the prices go higher!
4, rue d’Assas, 75006, Tel: +33 (0)1 45 72 07 14

Bistros:
L’Ami Jean: Basque food in a fun pro-rugby atmosphere. I think it’s some of the best food in Paris. If there’s one restaurant you must go to, it’s this one. For more info click the link, I wrote a post on it a few years back. I always take friends here when visiting in town.
27, rue Malar, 75007 +33 (0)1 47 05 86 89

Le Comptoir: located right off Metro Odeon in the ever-trendy St. Germain area, this resto serves up traditional bistro food offering one tasty menu a night. If you don’t believe me, then click the link to read Chez Pim’s write-up! Great people watching too! (photo by Moveable Feast)
9, carrefour de l’Odéon, 75006 Tel: +33 (0)1 44 22 07 97

Le Severo: This restaurant is for carnivores and wine lovers. There is much debate over whether this is really a steak-frites bistro or a wine bar with excellent food. Both Patricia Wells and David Lebovitz have given it their blessings so you know it’s good. I’ve linked to Chef Lebovitz’s detailed review. Worth the trek to the 14th! (photo by New York Times click link to read their article too!)
8, rue des Plantes, 75014, tel: +33 (0)1 45 40 40 91

Spring: If you can get a reservation at this tiny restaurant (only 16 seats) owned by American Chef Daniel Rose, then take it! He changes the menu daily and serves what he’s found to be the freshest. Chef Daniel worked at Le Meurice (mentioned above) before opening his own place. I’ve linked to his blog here so you can get an up close and personal account.
28 rue de la Tour d’Auvergne, 75009, tel: +33 (0)1 45 96 05 72

Le Soufflé: Totally kitsch, but so much fun and they do have the best soufflé’s in Paris at a very reasonable price. It’s a fun way to end a vacation in Paris. Ignore the flourescent lighting and the well worn white tableclothes and just enjoy. The servers have been working there probably for half a century and they speak English very well. Seriously, I love this place – it’s good fun food in a tourist-friendly environment. Click on the link to read my old blog post and see some pics.
36, rue du Mont-Thabor, 75001, Tel: +33 (0)1 42 60 27 19

Chez Janou: Tucked away in the Marais, this hidden bistro serves classic provençal fare. Their menu boasts seasonal dishes and desserts. They also have one of the largest collections of Pastis, the traditional French anise flavored aperitif. Don’t skip dessert, you’re in for a treat especially if you order the chocolate mousse.
2, Rue Roger-Verlomme 75003 Tel: 01 42 72 28 41

Technorati Tags: 3-star restaurants, best restaurans in Paris, bistros, Guy Savoy, L’Ami Jean, Le Soufflé, Les Bouquinistes, Paris restaurants, Spring, tag, top

The post Paris Picks: Restaurants & Bistros first appeared on Amy Glaze's Pommes d'Amour.

There was one dish that was a Spring ode to petit pois. I believe it consisted of a bright green cold pea gelée with a bed of perfect little sweet peas on top that had been hand cut in half. Our waiter informed us that this was to “double our pleasure”. All I could think of was, this is going to double my pain because I’m probably going to be the one pea splitting for hours on end.

On top of the split sweet peas perched a small ball of sweet pea mousse and the softest poached egg you have ever seen, the white barely set and still translucent. Our waiter cut the yolk open with a sharp knife individually at the table and a gash of yellow oozed over the little pond of bright green peas. I almost didn’t want to eat it, it was like performance art. (But I was hungry so I gave in to temptation.)

One of the chef’s signature dish is his artichoke soup with shaved parmesan & black truffle garnished with a warm piece of brioche that also has truffles baked in and a smear of truffle butter on top. Heaven? Uh, yeah! I love the way he pairs different breads with each of his dishes. Instead of ignoring the bread basket he brings full attention to it and incorporates it with the flavors. So creative!

A tour of the kitchen after lunch
The staff recognized me from my previous two un-announced visits. I wasn’t going to say anything like “Hi! I’m the one who came in last week to get my papers signed and couldn’t understand anything you said. Remember me?” I didn’t want any special treatment, just to observe and taste the food one final time.

However they did remember me, and served our table with grace, humor, and professionalism. Kind of funny because after we were seated, three of the waiters huddled quietly in the hallway discussing something and they kept looking back over at me. My husband whispered to me, “I think they’ve found you out” and then one waiter finally came over and asked if I was the new stagier (intern). After that I think they made a point to have fun with us.

I won’t go on about all the dishes right now because I’m sure I’ll be writing more about them in the future. I’m sorry I didn’t snap endless photos, but it hardly seemed the time or place to play the amateur food photographer amidst high powered business lunches and ladies who lunch.

Besides how to capture the memory of a delicate translucent egg white opalescent as a liquid opal, or the feeling of warm truffle brioche melting in the mouth, or homemade marshmallows that dissolve instantly leaving a sugary citron flavor to savor? Now who could capture that with a photo?

Technorati Tags: artichokes, Cuisine, Food, Guy Savoy, Paris, peas, petit pois, sweet peas

The post 3-Star Lunch! first appeared on Amy Glaze's Pommes d'Amour.

I’m graduating in four weeks from Le Cordon Bleu and I’m trying desperately get myself ready for my “stage”. A stage is like an apprenticeship without pay in a restaurant. We call it an internship in America. However, in the french kitchen it really means slave labor. I have worked in kitchens in San Francisco restaurants and run overly packed cooking classes with hormonally challenged teenagers – a feat I still look back on with wonder – but the idea of working in a Michelin star restaurant is intimidating.

In the vein of Julia Child, I’ve started working in the kitchens at Le Cordon Bleu to try and get back into the swing of prep work and to practice with unfamiliar produce, meats, and fish. It hasn’t been easy. First of all, my french is horrible. The sous-sol chef barks orders to the assistants and I have to double check to see what he’s said. This is a huge problem. Often instead of telling me what to do, he’ll come over and show me an example. What am I going to do in a french restaurant where nobody speaks English? Is the head chef going to come over to me and show me an example every time he want’s something done? Uh, don’t think so!

I secretly think the sous sol chef puts up with me only because my french makes him laugh. I’m not shy about talking en francais, but my pronunciation, grammar, and verb conjugation in elementary. On our first encounter I told him that I needed a “gros carrot” for one of the chefs. He burst out laughing so hard that tears started flowing from his eyes. I didn’t understand what I had said, until I grabbed a big carrot from the walk in fridge – then it hit me. I had asked him if I could have a big penis.

To make matters worse, there’s a little hierarchy amongst the student kitchen staff at LCB and I spent the first week having to really prove myself. I’m older than everyone down there and have restaurant experience so you can imagine my surprise (and annoyance!). I know that sounds cocky, but when a 21 year old tells you your brunoise is shit and orders you to do it again in a tone reserved for disobedient kids, it takes a lot of deep breathing to maintain composure. And, by the way, the recipe said dice not brunoise. However, I sucked it up and inwardly thought, “This is just a test, it could be much worse in a real French restaurant kitchen”.

My favorite was when one of the students tried to tell me how to wash lettuce. I was ripping the core out quicker than he was cutting it out and he was insisting that I was doing it wrong. I finally turned to him and said, “I used to prep for hundreds of salads a night, I think I can handle these twenty heads here”. After that he realized that I had some experience and instead started asking me questions about quick ways to handle different produce.

But, I don’t want to come across as a know-it-all here because many of these Cordon Bleu Kitchen Slaves have been working sous-sol a long time and they understand the flow of preparing lunch for the whole Cordon Bleu staff as well as preparing all the foods for the demonstrations and practicals. I have learned a huge amount from the students in the basement of Cordon Bleu: I can shuck oysters, clean monkfish (very hard), cut purrrfect brunoise and julienne, butcher just about any type of meat, and understand basic french orders. And yes, I’ve also learned that it’s okay to be 30-ish and still learning.

I have four weeks in the basement kitchen at Le Cordon Bleu and then It’s either sink or swim. Why am I doing this you might ask? Because I want more than anything in the world to do my stage at my favorite restaurant in Paris, the three Michelin star, Guy Savoy. This is my favorite restaurant in Paris and if I had 285 euros for dinner I would eat there every night.

Recently Guy Savoy was voted the 7th best restaurant in the world. I would be happy peeling potatoes in a corner if they let me.

So keep your fingers crossed for me and if anyone has any fancy shmancy favorite restaurants here in Paris, please share…

Technorati Tags: Cuisine, Food, Le Cordon Bleu, paris cooking school, Paris restaurants

The post Preparing for My Stage first appeared on Amy Glaze's Pommes d'Amour.

photo courtesy: The Four Seasons Hotel

When we arrived our coats were whisked away by four people who simulataneously unrobed us. We were led through the warmly lit dining area to our table that was elegantly laid out with gold rimmed china and real crystal glasses. As I began to sit my chair was gently pushed in by an invisible attendant.

We began with flutes of champagne from their assortment of iced champagne. I chose a pretty rosé that sparkled light pink in the warm glow of the restuarant. We clinked to Nat’s and Giles future happiness and settled into our plush chairs. No sooner had we taken a sip of luxury when our first amuse bouche arrived – sliced brioche with lardon baked for us on arrival in petit ramekins. After quickly finsihing our first nosh, small plates of thinly shaved pata negra arrived. All this before we even looked at the menu!

The menu is exquisite. Wanting to taste everything we opted for the tasting degustation with paired wines (which is actually a good deal!). My first entree was thinly sliced divers scallops carpacio with a tiny bread stick that oozed a delicately citron flavored fromage blanc when broken. Sublime.

I won’t bore you with all the courses. There were too many to write about. However, my petit veal medallions served with a small side of blanc souffle was outstanding and so was the line caught sea bass. I don’t normally eat veal but, the other option was pigeon (um, merci non)

Here’s some funny things about the evening…they brought a stool for my purse! After I sat down I put my purse on the floor (like I always do) and a few minutes later an attendant came and carefully lifted it onto it’s own little couch. CRAZY!!! Also, everything was synchronized. Our food was set in front of all four of us at precisely the same time. Four attendants whisked off the silver warming lids simultaneously. I noticed they have these cute little signals so that no one jumps the gun. So cool – they use hand signals!!!

When Nat and I got up to go to the bathroom a female attendant appeared from thin air and escorted us to the ladies room. And when we sat back down at the table two male attendents again pushed our chairs in simultaneously. I believe we each had our own attendant but I’m not quite sure.

After our main courses were fini, a HUGE cheese cart was wheeled over to us. I’ve never seen my husband so happy in his entire life! He was like a sixteen year old boy with a brand new Mustang. I chose an aged Comté (hard cheese) and a chevre sec (slightly dry goat cheese) and a creamy blue.

When dessert finally arrived it seemed to keep arriving. We had some sort of amuse bouche before our dessert. Then our dessert, then chocolates, nougatine, caramels and gelees. Of course everything was paired with wine.

photo courtesy: Four Seaons Hotel

And FINALLY after we managed to fill our bellies with an outrageous amount of food and wine we had coffee.

Here’s the real kicker. The whole meal was free. That’s right! F-R-E-E!!! We didn’t pay a dime. I’m not at liberty to say why, but it was wonderful! I think I might have left my glass slipper there…

George Cinq Four Seasons Hotel
“Executive Chef Philippe Legendre has created menus for Four Seasons Hotel George V which draw upon classic French culinary techniques and also embrace newer, lighter cooking styles, always incorporating the freshest regional ingredients.”

Paris restaurants

The post Cinderella at Le Cinq first appeared on Amy Glaze's Pommes d'Amour.

After a fabulous dinner we cabbed it to St. Germain (4 euros) and headed to the student hangout, Fu Bar, for some proper cocktails. Apple-martinis all around. These are NOT the horrible bright green apple martinis of home. Their secret recipe captures the essence of apples and cinnamon without all the added sugar and green dye. A perfect after dinner digestif.

Needing to dance off our outrageous food consumption we walked over to Wagg, a nightclub beneath the pretentious restaurant Alcazar. This club is like a grand cave and does not have proper ventilation so dress for summer in New York. The music is eclectic from disco to now. Frankly I don’t think any of us cared too much what the DJ was playing– we were too busy dancing around like madmen. I do recall a small band accompanying the DJ and parading through the dance floor. Ah oui, I also remember my Kiwi friend swinging some girl over his shoulder much to her boyfriend’s chagrin.

Good times had by all, we said our goodbyes and headed home before the rising sun.

Chez Janou: 2, Rue Roger-Verlomme 75003 Paris Tel: 01 42 72 28 41 (make a reservation!)

Fu Bar: 5 Rue St-Sulpice 75006 Paris

Wagg: 62 Rue Mazarine, Alcazar basement, 75006 Paris

Technorati Tags: bars, clubs, Food, Paris, paris bars, Paris nightclubs, Paris restaurants

The post Friday night in Paris first appeared on Amy Glaze's Pommes d'Amour.