The Tomato Knife

I’ve been shunning exact measurements recently.

With all that’s going on in the world, I seem to find refuge in the simple flow of following ingredients into their recipe – I say “their recipe” because I’ve just been letting them take over. Maybe this is a bit off the wall, but I almost feel like a writer when I’m cooking, and my vegetables are my characters. Any novelist will tell you the characters they create eventually take over the story, lead it wherever they please. I feel like cooking is exactly the same. Yes, I usually rely on recipes (at least to start with) when I attempt baking – I imagine this particular arena filled with a basket of already-tried and tested proofs that are hard for me to compete with. Anything else, though, is fair game and the ingredients (from what just happens to be in the fridge, to what just happens to jump into the pot) dictate.

For me, cooking has two personalities: no stress or completely chaotic. Watch “Top Chef” (the current Monday night favorite chez nous) to witness an example of the latter. Come into our kitchen on a late (preferably sunny) Monday afternoon for the other side of the spectrum, when I let go of the first day of the workweek by creating my “zen zone.” Thanks to vegetable soup, cooking is like yoga – with wooden spoons. I just finished making a huge pot of my “soupe de grandmère” and feel like I’ve just done deep breathing and warrior pose. Unlike my marathon weekends when I  plunge into crazy, time-consuming and ambitious culinary adventures (and we don’t eat until 9 or 10 o’clock!), late weekday afternoons are often reserved for kitchen Bikram.

For my vegetable soup, I usually sauté some onions, garlics and leeks in olive oil. Then I add potatoes, carrot… even corn and white beans when I have them. I cover it all with water, add a couple bay leaves and some salt, and let boil until all the vegetables are cooked. A warm, comforting aroma spreads through the apartment (and the outside hallway and elevator) as it simmers. Like today, I often prepare it early, turn off the burner and reheat the soup when it’s dinner time. All in all, the preparation takes about 20 minutes (chopping veggies) and the cooking a minimum of 45 minutes – longer simmering simply brings out more flavor.

Tags: carrots, leeks, soup, vegetables

Why buy mayonnaise when you can make it?

Yesterday, at lunchtime, I wanted to make an inside out (or outside in) tuna melt (like a grilled-cheese sandwich, but with tuna). Dilemma: I didn’t have any mayonnaise – and as most of us would agree, tuna simply needs mayonnaise. I knew the closest grocer didn’t carry the only store-bought mayo I’ve ever liked (Maille) and I wasn’t about to complicate my day trekking it down. I was hungry and just wanted to have lunch – simple.

So, I made fresh mayonnaise. In a matter of minutes.

It was one of those first daring days of spring, when anxious (and long-awaited) sunlight floods through open windows. Like I said, I didn’t want to complicate my day – didn’t want to find a recipe, didn’t want to measure any ingredients. Yet, I wanted homemade mayonnaise. I’ve been living in France long enough to know what ingredients one usually uses in mayo and also to know that you have to whip in the olive oil last, in long steady streams with your electric beater. Thus, I started by putting two egg yolks in a bowl and mixing in some mustard and a tad of vinegar. I added salt and pepper…then started pouring in the olive oil. Really fun, actually. I just kept beating until the mixture was thick, stopping to taste and add more of whatever I thought was missing. At first I went overboard with the vinegar, but it all worked out.

SO, no fuss. Just add, taste, beat, taste, beat…until you’re happy with it.

Shopping List

2 egg yolks

Dijon mustard

Red wine vinegar

Salt

Pepper

Olive oil

I ended up with a whole jar (an old yogurt pot). Since it’s fresh, it has to be eaten soon. What could I make? Another tuna melt? Egg salad? Deviled eggs? French fries (mayo is often served with them in Europe)? Avocado and crab?

As usual, I’m finishing my blog post, hungry.

Tags: cooking, sauces

The latest edition of the Paris-based literary review, Upstairs at Duroc, is out and ready to be read!

Why am I so excited? Under the shiny green and white cover, lies my first ever piece of published fiction!

Issue 12 includes poetry, prose and photography from a varied group of international writers. If you like poetry, you’ll find a selection of contemporary work by authors such as Alice Notley. I had the chance to hear her read at the review’s launch last January and feel honored to have my own work printed under the same cover.  If you like photography, there are several crisp black and white shots that give the book a timeless, artsies feeling. And, of course, there’s fiction…

You can pick up a copy of the review tonight at the American Library as they host Upstairs at Duroc for a poetry reading. March is poetry month in Paris (aka “le printemps des poètes”) and just about everyone participates (from actors reciting in the streets to small bookshops opening their doors to poetry-hungry visitors). This year’s theme is “Infinite Landscapes” and tonight you’ll hear from poets Margo Berdeshevsky, Paula Bohince, Dylan Harris, and Sarah Riggs.

If you can’t make it to the reading, you can support the publication (and budding artists like me) by ordering a book. Contact me here if you’re interested.

Tags: events

A little over a year ago, I ate a delicious “raw thai” soup at a Santa Fe café/restaurant called Body. It was a thick cold soup with two of my favorite ingredients: coconut milk and avocado. What impressed me even more about this soup is that it was completely raw. Since then I’ve been intrigued by the so-called “raw food movement” and those who call themselves “raw foodists.”

According to Alison Bryce in this NPR article, “Raw foodists eat by the theory that when food is cooked over 112 degrees, it loses its living enzymes.” Shes goes on to explain that such people usually fit into two groups: those that eat meat, eggs and dairy; and those who eat only vegetables, fruits and nuts. Also, this type of diet generally favors unprocessed, organic foods.

I love all kinds of food (and all kinds of cooking), so I think it’d be hard to convince me to go 100% raw. I, however, can understand why it might be advantageous: enzymes can be positive little beings and help digest food and absorb important nutrients. Apparently, eating raw protein can also give more immediate energy. Plus, I’d be fun to get creative and challenge myself to make appetizing dishes, without a flame.

Since I’ve been increasingly curious about raw food, I was more than game to try the Parisian restaurant, Cru (whose name means “raw” in French). I first and foremost liked this restaurant/wine bar for its idyllic location – on a quiet street in the Marais (Village Saint Paul). Looking out the window from our table, we could see the remains of the oldest city wall in Paris (built in the early 13^th century by Philippe-Auguste, king of France).

Inside the restaurant walls, the dim lighting and sparse décor gave a fresh, modern atmosphere. I loved the real glasses and water pitcher that mimicked plastic picnic ware and the roll of green cloth napkins that you tore off like paper towels. This gave a fun, casual feeling to an otherwise upscale restaurant.

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Tags: restaurants, wine bars

Last night I went to a captivating reading at the American Library here in Paris.

Tilar J. Mazzeo was presenting her New York Times Bestseller The Widow Clicquot. Many of us know of “Veuve Clicquot” champagne, but we don’t know anything about the woman behind the name. I have to admit that I had once wondered about it – why “widow”? I casually assumed it was just an alluring name, or maybe reference to someone’s elderly aunt. I was fascinated to learn that Barbe-Nicole Clicquot Ponsardin was not only a real person, but quite a legend.

Mazzeo’s eyes lit up as she shared the intriguing story with us: an early 19th-century widow succeeded in turning a failing wine business into a flourishing, international champagne enterprise. Since the author was “trained in archival research” (as she put it), the non-fiction book relies purely on the historical facts she was able to hunt down. Just as impressive as the widow’s story, is the historical context it takes place in. I left  the library feeling happy and bubbly. Yes, the glass of champagne would explain part, but Mazzeo’s talk explains the rest. Her enthusiasm toward the subject and the fact that she shared both the Widow Clicquot’s story as well as her own (how she first got interested in wine, how she got the idea to write this book, how she went about researching it…) left the audience wanting more.

Of course I picked up a copy and am already reading.

Tags: books, wine

I knew I was back in Paris this morning when I got on the metro. At 7:30, the cars on line 6 aren’t the sweaty, crowded bunkers you encounter later in the day. Actually, this morning, still caught somewhere between sleep and awake, I had to remind myself I was in public transportation on my way to work and not in a library. That’s the atmosphere that reigns on a sulky Monday morning. My fellow travelers are about a dozen students on their way to school- lectures, exams, orals- there’s always something. A shy handful might be high schoolers, but most are university students, deep in their hand-written notes. The guy to the left of me was focused on long math equations; the girl en face was lost in Spanish; the skinny man to the right was highlighting something that looked like economics; even the curly red-haired woman near the door (who didn’t look like she was stressed about a test) was reading some thick French novel. I’m wondering what they’re all doing now- at 7 in the evening. I’m sure their day of classes at la fac is finished. Maybe they’re at café terraces, under outdoor heaters and bundled up in thick winter scarves. Maybe they’re buying cheap spaghetti and tomato sauce for dinner. Maybe they’re in a real library. Or, maybe they’re on their way back home.

That’s where I am- home. Sipping a cup of tea and gathering up my notes from San Francisco. I’m going to jump right in and tell you about the very best foodie find ever: Bi-Rite Creamery and Bakeshop. I’d been hearing about this spot for a couple years and, finally, got to go. Located near Dolores Park in the Mission District, Bi-Rite has (I’m being very truthful here) some of THE BEST ICE CREAM I HAVE EVER HAD. The unique flavors will reel you in: orange cardamom, brown sugar with ginger caramel swirls, salted caramel (I get this wherever I go), roasted banana, cinnamon with snicker doodles (I learned these where little sugar cookies rolled in cinnamon), earl grey, Meyer lemon… Oh yes, I tried every one of these! To top it off, I’m giving Bi-Rite some of my “sustainability kudos”: compostable cups and tiny wooden spoons.

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Tags: ice cream, restaurants, San Francisco, travel