The Tomato Knife

I just marked my calendar for the Paris Cookbook Festival 2011!

Next weekend, March 3-6, over 200 publishers will gather in Paris to present their cookbooks to professionals (March 3-4) and then to the general public (March 5-6). I can’t wait to go and check the collection of recipes and enticing food photography from around the world. Apparently over 50 nationalities will be represented.

The festival was launched last year by Edouard Cointreau (founder of the Gourmand World Cookbook Awards) and continues this year with Alain Dutournier (Michelin-starred chef, Carré des Feuillants) as the President of Honor. There will be author signings, photography exhibitions, wine tastings, conferences….

For useful information in French (hours, vélib stands, etc.) and other interesting articles click here. Otherwise, visit the English site (and reserve tickets) here.

Tags: cooking, news

According to an article I just read on Audrey Garric’s ecology blog for Le Monde, “Les OGM reculent-ils vraiment en Europe?”, GMO use is on the decline in Europe – thanks primarily to the public.

In fact, in 2010 only 0,06% of all European agricultural spaces were subject to GMO use (a 23% decrease since 2008).

This is promising news.

Garric goes on to explain that only two GMO products are grown in Europe: corn (MON 810, from the American company Monsanto – no surprise) and potatoes (Amflora, from the German company BASF – approved by the European Commission just last year). I started getting tense as I read this, then learned that France (among seven other European countries) bans the use of MON 810 (a small sigh of relief). Such banning is part of the reason GMO use is declining in Europe, but the main reason, as the article highlights, is that 61% of the population opposes genetically modified products and chooses not to consume them.

That all sounds great, but the story isn’t quite so simple. Even though Europe isn’t growing many genetically modified produce, we are importing it from elsewhere – mostly to feed animals. Even though I, and the rest of the anti-GMO Europeans, don’t actively consume genetically modified products, traces of them end up in the animal products we consume (my homemade yogurt suddenly doesn’t sound so appetizing).

I’m against the use of GMOs in large part because we are not aware of potential dangers. I also don’t like the idea of agricultural and chemical companies dominating the production of seeds. You can argue that using GMOs can contribute to reducing the use of pesticides and, thus, our dependence on fossil fuels, but I don’t quite buy it. I don’t think replacing one evil with another is the ideal solution.

Since we’re on the topic, I’m reading Michael Pollan’s book The Omnivore’s Dilemma. The entire first part is dedicated to corn and how it has changed the face of American agriculture. Really interesting! Let’s hope Europe doesn’t end up there, too.

Tags: everyday life, news, vegetables

While in San Francisco, I made it a point to check off a handful of the restaurants and other food spots on my “To Try While in SFO List.” Top on the agenda was Alice Water’s legendary Chez Panisse in Berkeley.

The day after arriving at SFO International, a dear college friend and I made it girls’ night out and treated ourselves to Chez Panisse’s innovative, yet refined cuisine. This set the stage for the rest of my trip and San Francisco’s fascination with French-inspired fare.

We dined at the upstairs “Café,” which isn’t a café at all, but a fine-dining restaurant where the menu changes daily, according to seasonal products. There is also the downstairs “Restaurant,” which is where it all began in 1971 (here, they propose set menus). As a side note, “Panisse” was the last name of a character in Marcel Pagnol’s 1930s film trilogy set in Marseille (Marius, Fanny and César). The two-storey restaurant is located in a one-of-a-kind wooden house in a part of town that immediately made me feel like I was back in college again. Shattuck Avenue was bustling on a Saturday night, mostly with students squatting on the median eating pizza from a local, and obviously popular, spot (never mind the “Keep off Median” sign clearly planted in the middle).

Once inside Chez Panisse, the atmosphere changed completely and we were transported to a dimly lit room that timelessly hovered somewhere between a refined French restaurant and a Zen Japanese tea garden. In other words, I felt like I was in the Bay area- where many restaurants have taken Alice Water’s lead and succeeded in bringing out an idyllic combination of the past (French culinary tradition) and the present (fresh new attitude and natural, organic ingredients). I was especially interested in discovering Chez Panisse since it has been an important leader in supporting local, sustainable products.

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Tags: restaurants, San Francisco

I always go through some level of culture shock when I come back to the States. I never expect it, but it manages to get me every time.

I’m in San Francisco, the first time back “home” in a year. The curse of falling for a foreign country (France), and actually having the good fortune to live there, is you’re forever split between two places, two cultures. I haven’t yet decided if it’s a good curse or a bad one. There’s no denying that I feel foreign (American?) when I’m in France, and each time I come to America I seem to feel less American (dare I say more French?). What an awkward thing to feel in the country I grew up in.

My first days in San Francisco, I’ve actually kind of felt like I’m in a foreign country- observing the world around me as though I’ve never seen it before. Re-adjusting back to the way things are done here. Some first impressions: the blown-up size of everything (yep, that gets me every single time – from cars, to streets, to billboards, to houses, to the sky, to milk cartons); the elongated, high-pitched sirens of fire-trucks and police cars; the casual, friendly attire worn by just about everyone (from hand-knit bonnets to bicycler’s gloves without fingertips); and, since I’ve been learning all about French driving this year, the straightforward way people drive. I never thought signing up for French driving lessons would bring me to such deep reflections (which I think I’m going to end up writing an entire book about), but it is so true that French and Americans do not take the same approach to driving. And I, the walker, have to adjust according to where I am. In France, for example, you have to throw yourself into the crosswalk before anyone will stop for you. Until I learned that cars don’t have to stop unless you’re actually “engaged” in the crosswalk, I spend many a long moment waiting on the side of the road, waiting for someone to halt (not wanting to be killed by the rapidly approaching vehicles of course). Here, in San Francisco, I’m just standing on the corner of the street, showing no invested intention of crossing, and cars stop, blocking up a whole line of surprisingly patient traffic. Maybe it’s just the west coast, but it’s a nice representation of “my country.”

But that’s just the thing. Am I still “chez moi” when I’ve spent more of my adult life in France than in America? When so many aspects of American culture seem so strange to me? I’m still here for nearly another two weeks and wonder if this feeling will wear off. Wondering if I’ll soon start feeling like a  natural-born  “American” again. It’s an odd feeling, looking at two different countries, and thinking they’re both right – in their own ways.

Tags: travel

How can you not laugh when you see a row of over-sized underwear hanging in a wine shop’s window?

Twice a year French boutiques and department stores transform themselves into one of three kinds of art. Either they become life-sized Warhols and Pollocks, bursting with bright gaudy ribbons and attention-grabbing window signs.  With yellow, blue, pink and green stickers advertising reductions and bold pen slashes spoiling once pristine price tags, these shops come alive, blaring with color.  Or, shopkeepers get risque. They undress their headless mannequins from head to toe and wrap single ribbons around their skinny waists, clearly revealing those normally unrevealed body parts. Or, as in the case of the wine shop we found last Saturday (Les Caves Bossetti, 34 rue des archives, 4e/Specialty: wine from Burgundy), they hang up underwear. During the soldes anything goes.

For a good six weeks starting in both January and June, Parisian shops open their doors to an inimitable combination of curious foreign tourists and haughty, in-the-know Parisians, all looking for a good deal.  La Chambre de Commerce et d’Industrie organizes this much awaited bi-annual event and shop owners take it very seriously, respecting all rules and regulations.  The night before the pre-arranged start date (January 12 this year), employees methodically prepare their simple, yet catchy, window displays, slash price after price and bring out hibernating articles that have been saved just for the sales.

We actually participated in the first days of the sales this year – and what fun, as long as you stop for a break. You can go pretty much anywhere in the city (or all of France, really), but we stuck to the Marais area. Here you have both BHV (a classy department store where one seriously can spend four hours without  realizing it), as well as smaller, one-of-a-kind boutiques. I always like looking for original, slightly funky finds – so these shops are for me. Also, we discovered that the Marais is the best place to shop for men’s clothes (the BHV men’s store is even bigger than the women’s floor – note, “store” versus “floor,” please!). In addition to clothes, the Marais has great home-decorating boutiques and isn’t far from the bundle of cookery shops on rue Montmartre, near Saint-Eustache church.

Don’t think the soldes are easy. You have to take a break to eat. In the Marais, try Le Pain Quotidien. (18-20 rue des archives, 4e). A cozy place for fresh tartines and salads. You also have to do like the people around you: be decisive. There’s no coming back for it later!

Did I mention that even wine is on sale?

Tags: everyday life, restaurants, travel, wine

We haven’t broken into the “gâteau des rois” yet, but I’m feeling lucky today and think I just might be the one to get the piece with the “fève” hidden in it.

It’s a French tradition to celebrate Epiphany (today) with a special cake that has a surprise tucked inside (usually a miniature porcelain figurine). Whoever gets the special piece is royalty for the day. There are two kinds of cakes: the “galette des rois” and the “gâteau des rois”. The former is the most popular in Paris and I’ve even heard it referred to as the “galette Parisienne” in other parts of France (most often in a slightly condescending, “that’s not nearly as good as ours” kind of way). It’s made of puffed pastry and typically filled with “frangipane” (an almond and cream filling). The other one is often called the “couronne bordelaise”. It’s like a brioche (the best has a hint of orange in it) and is shaped like a giant bagel. This one’s actually kind of hard to find in Paris, but given all the bakeries, I’ve managed! If you ask someone from Paris, they’ll tell you the “galette” is the best. Guess what someone from Bordeaux would tell you, where the “couronne” (crown) is sold more than everywhere?

Why am I feeling like a queen today? Because I just passed the written part of the infamous French driving test! I’ve already mentioned it, but that was all the way back in May – in May! I’d heard all about it and skirted the issue for several years. When I finally decided to sign up, I didn’t know it would really be that big of a commitment. Well, here I am, halfway there!

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Tags: dessert, everyday life