Photos from La Rue Mouffetard

I've really been slacking in posting my other dining experiences in Paris, and I really want to share with you  all the fabulous dinner we had at L'Ardoise, my first taste of authentic Moroccan cuisine, and the great bargain bistro serving steak frites and dirt-cheap carafes of wine, but I've been too lazy...and now I'm thinking that it might be so late that it's become irrelevant.  In an effort to see who's actually reading this, I'd like you all to post comments if you want me to describe the rest of my dining experiences in Paris.  If nobody requests it, I might get to it eventually in between reviews of other local eateries, recipes, and other bits of gastronomy, but it won't be at the top of my priorities.

Anyway, I thought I'd post some photos I took while strolling down La Rue Mouffetard, which is a quaint, postcard-perfect street in the St. Germain neighborhood of Paris that has become quite the little stretch of food paradise. Besides being recommended to me by a great friend, it was also the location of an important scene in one of my all-time favorite movies, Amélie.  In addition to hosting a weekly open-air market, La Rue Mouffetard (Mouffetard street) is also home to many bakeries, pastry shops, cheesemongers, butcher shops, and stores specializing in all manner of cooking equipment.  Furthermore, there is a great selection of restaurants that range in all manner of cuisines, including Alpine French restaurants serving raclette and fondue, Basque restaurants, eateries specializing in the cuisine of the French Caribbean (very different from Haitian cuisine), Thai restaurants, sushi bars, and even a Parisian take on a Chipotle-style burrito bar.

A cute play on words!

One of the many cheese shops.  This was more cheese than I've ever seen all in one place before.  

Chickens roasting on top, and ducks roasting beneath them.  The fat and juices drip down into the potatoes while they roast on the bottom, thus imparting them with the flavor of the poultry.  

Butcher shop and charcuterie

One of many pastry shops on this street.  Each one was a work of art.

Revales Italian Restaurant

revalesitalianrestaurant.com

My father had a tradition with his children once we turned twelve years old.  It was initiated with my twelfth birthday, and my two younger siblings were so anxious to experience that right of passage on their twelfth birthdays that the tradition became a family institution.  According to my father, once one of his children turned twelve he or she was well on his or her way to becoming a young adult, and it was a wise decision at that time to forgo having children's parties and begin going out to elegant dinners for our birthdays, like adults were supposed to do.  The idea was especially appealing to me.  Why have hotdogs and pizza rolls and play pin the tail on the Ninja Turtle with the 1/2 dozen school friends that I had when I could go to a fancy restaurant with my dad, order anything I wanted and perhaps have a glass of wine (restaurants back then were not so strict if they saw you were with a parent)?  The first restaurant I went to with my father was one that was owned by a friend of his named Claudio, and it was called La Bussola.  The Coral Gables establishment has been closed for many years now, but I can still vividly remember my first fine dining experience wearing a blazer and a red bow tie.  I ordered for both myself and my father, and remember a delicious plate of polenta cakes topped with a fricassé of mushrooms and sweetbreads, as well as a bowl of squid ink pasta with seafood fra diavolo.  I was also given a splash of red wine to taste, being that this was my first of many grownup dinners.  My father's friend then opened up another restaurant in Coral Gables called Claudius, and I remember going there for another birthday and having a plate of capellini with Florida Lobster and their Vesuvius dessert, a molten chocolate cake that is all-too-common these days but was quite novel to a 13-year old in the late nineties.  Those two restaurants will always be near to my heart not only for being the first fine dining establishments that I've been to, but also for giving me the first taste of fine Italian cuisine and impeccably homemade pastas.

Last year, in trying to decide upon a restaurant in which to celebrate my birthday, I had stumbled upon Revales, which was in that odd area where Shorecrest, Miami Shores, and MiMo meet.  Friends had told me that it was pretty good, online reviews were decent, menu selections seemed appealing, and the prices fit all of our budgets.  The real deciding point in choosing this restaurant, however, was an article stating that the chef running the kitchen at Revales had worked in the kitchen at La Bussola, which was apparently near and dear to many Miamians.  This was going to be great - a virtual recapitulation of a birthday dinner nearly 13 years ago with great friends!  The decision to dine at Revales was a wise one, and it has continued to become one of my go-to restaurants for inexpensive, exceptional Italian cuisine.

Revales is definitely more casual than La Bussola ever was, meaning that the menu options are nowhere near as exotic or luxurious as they were at La Bussola.  There are no sweetbreads and polenta cakes or black linguine here, but the menu offers a good selection of exceptionally-made Italian classics.  A veal saltimboca was juicy, had a crisp and light crust, a generous layer of prosciutto, melted mozzarella cheese, and a drizzle of a red wine demi-glace.  it was served with a purée of carrots, steamed vegetables and mashed potatoes on a plate that took up about a fourth of the table.  My partner in crime, Lucy's, fettucine carbonara strayed from the traditional preparation and, instead, came with an alfredo sauce studded with pieces of bacon.  Revales' version of the dish, despite its non-traditional preparation, is reason enough to come back, and while it had been over a year since I've been, Lucy had wasted no time in returning several times and introducing the almost hidden gem to her friends.  

Revales is one of the few Italian restaurants that I'm aware of that is open for lunch on a Sunday.  Most other independent Italian restaurants in the area are either close on Sundays or do not open until later in the evening for dinner service.  That being said, it was a no-brainer choice for a long overdue lunch with John, Lucy and myself this Sunday afternoon.  I was pleased to see that the restaurant was busy - always a good sign.  Lucy stuck with her favorite, the fettucine carbonara, while I opted for the the fettucine bolognese.  Lucy's dish was just as luscious as I remember it being, while mine offered all the bold flavors and meatiness that one would expect from a good bolognese sauce.  The fettucine were obviously made on premises and perfectly al dente - springy and toothsome!  Both gargantuan pasta dishes came out to $11 each.  John had opted for the veal parmesan ($15) that presented a plate with two large, beautifully breaded cutlets topped with a fair measure of red sauce and a generous amount of melted mozzarella.  The accompanying penne pomodoro dotted with pan-roasted slices of garlic and shreds of fresh basil was not bad, but in paled in comparison to the fettucine dishes.  For dessert, we all partook in a piece of a peanut layer cake consisting of moist layers of yellow cake interspersed with caramel butter cream laced with chopped roasted peanuts and topped with more butter cream and dulce de leche.   I was expecting a peanut butter pie flavor but was pleasantly surprised by its subtle peanut flavor.

A year after my first visit, Revales continues to satisfy returning patrons and impress first-timers, alike.  Along with Fratelli Milano in downtown Miami and Il Mulino in Fort Lauderdale, it continues to be one of my favorite places for affordable Italian food in South Florida, and I'm glad to see that it's still thriving. 

Revales

8601 Biscayne Boulevard  

Miami, FL 33138

(305) 758-1010

www.revalesitalianrestaurant.com

Portia's: Southern Discomfort Food

I grew up with a Southern stepmother.  She was from Alabama and raised me with grits, biscuits, and award-winning fried chicken (hers won the fried chicken competition one year at the Alabama state fair), as well as boiled peanuts, greens, fried green tomatoes and cornbread dressing (NEVER stuffing).  My stepmother wasn't just a Southerner, she was a white Southerner, and I think it is important to make the distinction, especially when discussing cuisine.  While her cooking wasn't bad, for someone brought into this world amidst the spices and flavors of Latin America, Southern cuisine - at least that of my stepmother - was bland.  Not subtle, like Japanese cuisine or Vietnamese cuisine, or even German cuisine.  It was just bland.  And it wasn't until I had my first taste of soul food that I realized that Southern food could be zesty and flavorful and comforting....food that nourishes the body and the soul, hence the name.  Upon doing research, I discovered that Southern food is essentially African American food, and unless it is made by African Americans, it will usually be missing that essential ingredient: soul.  Non African American Southern food, to me, has always been a toned-down version of the real deal - soul food for white folks.

There are always exceptions, of course, but it seems that when someone else tries to play at Southern cooking they tend to be a little too "creative" with their cooking.  Yes, the inspiration lies in traditional Southern dishes, but the execution utilizes foreign elements.  The results are tasty but never feel authentic and always manage to seem embellished.  I always end up asking myself how a soul food version of a dish is so delicious in spite of its simplicity, while the same dish executed by a white Southerner is either bland or has to include so many extra elements.  Until I shadow a soul food cook, the answer will remain a mystery, and I'll continue to go to a soul food restaurant when I was Southern food because to me, it's like the difference between real Chinese cuisine and Chinese-American.  Once you have the real thing, it's hard to go back to a dumbed down imitation.

Nevertheless, there are good Southern restaurants manned by white cooks/chefs that offer very tasty "nouvelle" Southern cuisine - creative, sometimes gourmet, twists on classics their mamas made for them or recreations of what their most-likely-black cooks prepared in their kitchens.  The food at these restaurants can be subtle, which is definitely a step up from being bland, and when the cook/chef has some sort of culinary background or just a level head on his/her shoulders, the unique creations being served up can be quite glorious.  For instance, adding fresh herbs and garlic to chicken and dumplings - superb idea!  Or adding some bold spices to a fried chicken marinade - ingenious!

Sometimes, however, one has the misfortune of going to a Southern restaurant where the creative ideas are not always well thought out, and the resulting dishes turn out to be both bland and a little disturbing on the palate.  Such was the case during a recent dinner at Portia's, a new restaurant on Oakland Park Boulevard, in Broward County.  The restaurant took over the space of another restaurant, called The Cellar, which served mostly German and central European dishes.  Although I never dined at the old restaurant, it was obvious that some of the old décor remained - embossed copper ceiling panels, tiffany lamps, and romantic, impressionistic portraits.  Portia's own touch was most noted in the presence of paper place mats displaying the image of a pig, which was a kitschy touch, but didn't seem to match the rest of the restaurant.  The lighting was very low inside, but somehow failed to be romantic.  The tables were cheap-looking, as were the chairs.  Paired with the disco soundtrack and the numerous senior citizens dining within, the ambiance was a depressing portrait of a retirement home dining hall for gay men.

The service was friendly.  Our waitress offered us a complimentary bowl of house made pork cracklins, which were good although it would have been nice to have something with which to cut the richness.  Maybe I'm channelling Mexican cuisine, which uses a squeeze of lime and some chile, or Nicaraguan cuisine, which serves them with a vinegary slaw.  It might not be traditional for Southern cuisine, but it sure would be a nice innovation.  While the pork cracklins were a nice touch, it would have been nice to get some biscuits or corn bread or dinner rolls.  No such bread ever arrived at our table, and I think it had to be ordered and paid for.

An appetizer of fried green tomatoes, which our waitress recommended, were just dissatisfying.  There seemed to be something wrong with the tomatoes, as if they were getting ripe or they were pickled.  The flavor was off.  Additionally, they were coated in panko bread crumbs, which I didn't care for.  The remoulade sauce with which they were served was practically inedible and clearly not a remoulade.  It was like a thinned-out tartar sauce with a lot of vinegar and paprika and little chunks of unrecognizable pickled vegetables and onions.  

For my entrée, I ordered a pork tenderloin sandwich, which was not a Southern dish, but more of a specialty of Indiana, Iowa, and the surrounding areas, which I guess would kind of go with the "country" theme of Portia's.  What I received were two breaded, fried pork cutlets coated with something I'd never seen before.  This came with a buttered and toasted commercially-made bun of the cheaper variety, an iceberg lettuce leaf, a few slices of tomato, and some cheap neon green pickle chips.  I did not care for the breading one bit!  Upon first looking at it, I thought that it was perhaps comprised of cornflakes.  Upon biting into a piece, it was determined that it was coarsely crunched up saltine crackers; they were not ground nor crumbled but crunched up, meaning that there were 1/4" pieces of crackers soaked in days-old fryer oil surrounding this thin slice of pork cutlet.  I asked the waitress what the breading consisted of, just to be sure, and she said it was a "secret recipe".  Well, that's once secret that Portia's can keep to themselves!  As a side dish, I ordered a side of peanut cole slaw.  Again, maybe I was thinking about a different cuisine, perhaps somewhere in Southeast Asia, because what I had in mind was nothing like what I was served.  I was soon reminded as to what kind of restaurant I was at when I took a bite of the shredded cabbage tossed in mayonnaise, ground peanuts that I couldn't tell were in there at first, and absolutely nothing else.  There really was nothing else in that cole slaw...and it tasted that way.

John ordered the fried chicken, for which the restaurant is supposedly well known.  The chicken is made to order, which means that you can be waiting an average of 20 minutes for your order, which I think is the amount of time we waited.  The chicken was flavorful and juicy with a crispy crust and offered what one would expect from good fried chicken.  The dark meat pieces were characteristically tender, and the breast was surprisingly moist.  Portia's fried chicken is definitely a cut above most places, but definitely not the best.  John's sides, like mine, were abysmal.  His creamed corn should have had quotation marks surrounding it on the menu - a tiny condiment bowl filled with corn nuggets, bacon bits, and milk that appeared as if it was thrown together at the last minute.  His lima beans were satisfactory but also arrived in a minuscule bowl.   Honestly, I believe I've had banchan at a Korean restaurant - those little condiments that come with every dish of Korean barbecue - that were more generous than the side dishes at Portia's.

The only redeeming moment at Portia's came at the end of the meal when John and I partook in a slice of very good coconut cream pie.  If there was one thing that would bring me back to Portia's, it would be that, and just maybe some fried chicken...although it would be awfully tough to come back.  While I'm definitely one to notice good food at a restaurant before anything else, the ambiance at Portia's was just too depressing, and the food just wasn't good enough to warrant a second visit.  Especially considering that Betty's Soul Food is just a little closer in distance from us, there really is no reason, in my opinion, to return to Portia's.

Portia's

199 East Oakland Park Blvd

Oakland Park, FL 33334

Broward's Asian buffets

I really like buffets.  Not so much because they provide diners with the opportunity to gorge themselves on food for one single price....actually, I don't like that aspect at all.  I love buffets because they allow me to sample a little bit of a lot of different dishes.  When it comes to ethnic cuisines, the buffet format is an excellent way to get a much broader idea of what makes that cuisine unique (or not so unique), as well as affording me the chance to sample some more exotic dishes - or dishes with unappealing or boring descriptions - without feeling committed to purchasing a large bowl or platter of it or feeling like I'm taking a risk.  It comes down to a matter of economy.  While I might pass up paying for a plate of stinky tofu or "special meat with good sauce" from a menu, I'll definitely try some on a buffet....that is to say, a good buffet.  While some buffets can be a great catalyst for exploring a new cuisine, many can paint a pretty grim picture of a cuisine and can offer a diner an unfortunate first impression.  Imagine if your first experience with Chinese cuisine was at a $6.99 All-u-can-eat in Hialeah?  Or if your initial foray into Japanese cuisine was picking at a dried-out and grey-colored tuna nigiri at a Chinese-owned sushi buffet?  A buffet can teeter on the edge of a finely sharped knife - one side offering a good representation of a culture's cuisine and the other offering nothing but disgrace to that culture...and possible food poisoning.

The important thing to remember about a buffet is that no matter the quality, it will never be as good as having a dish made to order for you.  A buffet will always be - regardless of price or opulence - about economy.  Whether you're at a $6.99 Chinese buffet or an elegant $150 brunch buffet, the whole point of a buffet is to get the most bang for your buck...or at least feeling like you did.  That being said, if you like a dish you sampled at a buffet, try ordering it from the menu either at that restaurant or perhaps at another restaurant.  Nine times out of ten, you won't be disappointed.

Now onto the buffets....

Bombay Grill

The first one I've completely fallen in love with and has become almost a sinful indulgence with John and me is Bombay Grill, a cavernous restaurant with a full bar, a private event room, and at least 4 flat screen televisions airing Bollywood music videos.  Supposedly they have an à la carte menu, but I've never been offered one, and I've never seen any of the numerous Indian families that dine here ever order from one.  With a South Asian buffet as extensive as that of Bombay Grill, I don't think there is need to order from a menu.  This buffet has to be the largest South Asian buffet that I've been to in the United States - bigger and more diverse than any buffet I've been to in NYC (and I always go to an Indian buffet when I'm in The Big Apple).  Saturdays and Sundays seem to be the best days to go, and if you choose to go, you'll be dining with ladies dressed in the finest shalwar kameez and saris, for a meal at Bombay Grill is a pretty big deal, despite the $14.95 price tag.  On any given weekend, there will be an offering of pani puris, masala dosa and idli from southern India, a vegetarian (usually South Indian sambhar) and a non-vegetarian soup, pakodas, samosas, and the quintessential Bombay street dish of pav bhaji...and those are just some of the appetizers.  There is usually a selection of three types of bread - naan, paratha, and usually a chickpea flour (besan) bathura - along with a huge steamer of fragrant basmati rice scented with whole spices and clarified butter (ghee).  There is chicken tikka, chicken boti, chicken malai, biryani, several dal (beans and lentils) dishes that can include tadka dal and dal makhni, a meat curry and several vegetable curries that often include kadi pakoda, a dish of fritters in a tangy yogurt sauce.  There are usually two desserts - kheer (rice pudding) and gulab jamuns - as well as a tank of hot masala chai.

Most of the food at Bombay Grill is good, and dishes are changed and replenished fairly often.  For an Indian cuisine newbie, this a great place to get a first taste.  The connoisseur will be aware of having sampled better interpretations of a few of the dishes, but I've yet to find anything wrong with anything that they've served.  Like I mentioned before, if you're fond of a particular dish, try ordering it the next time you're at an Indian restaurant and see how it is when it's made fresh for you.

Dragon Buffet

I rarely like to dine at a Chinese buffet.  Some of them have begun serving siu mai and potstickers, and I usually stick to those selections as I can never seem to enjoy the gloppy and soggy entrée selections at most Chinese buffets.  Additionally, after having sampled true Chinese cuisine - the food that actual Chinese (or more correctly, Cantonese) people eat - Chinese American food seems just too heavy and quite boring.   That being said, it was a great pleasure to discover Dragon Buffet located on University Drive just north of The 595 expressway for they actually offer a decent selection of authentic Chinese dishes in addition to Chinese American standards, sushi, and a tepenyaki mongolian barbecue type station for around $17.  John and I have only been there once this past Friday but we definitely plan on going back.

General Tso's chicken, beef and broccoli, and moo goo gai pan were the same as those that you find anywhere and not worth trying.  I'm convinced they were just there to satisfy diners who were either too squeamish or ignorant to sample their selection of nearly 10 different types of dim sum, salt and pepper frog's legs, roasted duck, or clams in black bean sauce.  I immediately gravitated to a platter of char sui bao (baked pork buns), a personal favorite of mine that were soft and overflowing with bits of sweet pork.  Steamed leak dumplings, siu mai, har gow dumplings, and potstickers were all very good.  Crispy fried salt and pepper frogs legs were tender and flavorful.  Thai-style pork chops were also very good, as was their selection of sushi rolls that included hand rolls, stuffed bean curd skins, and gorgeous pickled persimmon nigiri topped with a dollop of smelt roe.  The dessert section cheap red bean ice cream (pass on it) as well as almond grass jelly, rice past cakes, Chinese angel food cake rolls, and lychees.

I tend to shy away from shellfish at a buffet, so I did not try selections from their raw bar except for a piece of frozen-solid stone crab claw.  There were also steamed mussels, king crab claws, and raw oysters.  I guess they're okay as there were many tables going through mounds of them, but I believe that the real draw of Dragon Buffet is the selection of authentic dishes.