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.  

Eating in Paris: Ladurée & Angelina

I've heard of people gorging themselves on chocolates, éclairs, napoléons, macarons, and every other conceivable sweet or pastry during trips to Paris.  While I do love sweets, my tastes tend to gravitate towards the savory side, which translates into me not really having too many sweets while in Paris.  In fact, it didn't even cross my mind to visit some of the renowned chocolatiers until I returned to South Florida and was asked by a good friend, "what about the chocolates there?"  Oops!  I'll get there the next time around, I promise.

Despite my preference for fromage over dessert after dinner, I do have a strong affinity for macarons ever since I tried my first one at the first Paul bakery in Aventura (now closed) with an.  That being said, part of my Paris itinerary involved visiting Ladurée, which is credited for having invented the macaron, and is reputed to have some very creative flavors.  Macarons, for the uninitiated, are about as far away from a macaroon (note the two o's) as prosciutto is from spam.  Two light-as-air cookies made from whipped egg whites, sugar, and almond flour are sandwiched between a rich filling of a cream, purée, or jelly.  Ladurée has several locations, but one of the most iconic ones is located on the famed Champs Elysées boulevard.  The Momster and I stopped by for a break in their ornate tea room, but it was closed for restoration, so we got in line behind the 20 or more people waiting to buy boxes of Ladurée's famous macarons in beautifully gilded packaging.  Apart from macarons, Ladurée also specializes in many other types of pastries and chocolates, which all look appealing until you get a glimpse of the main attraction...and then all other confections cease to exist in your mind.

Behind a glass partition, in neat rows that were constantly being replenished, were a variety of at least a dozen macarons no bigger in size than a silver dollar...perhaps even smaller.  Descriptions like violet and cassis, caramel and fleur de sel, and chestnut and pear beckon seasoned gourmands and macaron initiates, alike.  We purchased a box of 8 for 12 Euros to eat while strolling down Le Boulevard des Champs Elysées and were rewarded with perhaps the most exquisite confections I've ever had...except for maybe one.  Naturally, I sampled the three macarons I mentioned above in addition to rose petal, orange blossom, raspberry, pistachio, and grapefruit/vanilla.  The grapefruit and vanilla combination reminded me of why "greatfruit" was my least favorite fruit as a child, and unless you're a particular fan of the bitter flavor of this fruit that I never thought to be "great" (or anything like a grape, for that matter), I'd pass on it...that is, if they offer it again.  The rest of the flavors were nothing short of heavenly, and each flavor evoked new waves of emotions and imagery.  If poetry could be made into pastry it would look like a macaron from Ladurée.

A return visit on a Saturday afternoon to purchase boxes to bring back to Les Etats Unis proved to be too frustrating to attempt with a line out the door and locals shoving past polite groups of Japanese tourists to get inside; it was also three days before Valentine's Day, so that could explain the frenzy.  Nevertheless, Ladurée, at least on the Champs Elysées, should be attempted on a weekday, preferably far from any holiday.

The other sweets place that I visited came highly recommended by Time Out Paris (with which I reconciled), a good friend in South Florida, and another French friend who had lived in Paris for several years.  Additionally, it was just a short walk from Le Musée du Louvre and right across Rue de Rivoli from Le Jardin des Tuileries, making it a convenient place to break between the classical art gallery and the modern art gallery (The Pompidou Center) where we were going to next.  Angelina is the name of the place, and while they do serve déjeuner (lunch), they are most known for their chocolat chaud à l'ancienne (hot chocolate).  French hot chocolate is very much like Spanish hot chocolate, with which I had been more familiar with in Miami.  It's thick - almost like a soup - and can congeal as it cools down. It's also very rich - so much so, in fact, that it's served with a dollop of unsweetened (or lightly sweetened) whipped cream to cut the richness.  Angelina's version is notoriously rich, thick, and dark and is known as chocolat chaud l'africain.  I needed to try this!

Along with the African hot chocolate, I ordered two of Angelina's signature pastries, the Mont Blanc.  The waiter kind of smirked as he took the order and, hearing The Momster speak in English, mentioned "after Mont Blanc, no more hunger!"  He was right.  I wasn't hungry until about 9:00 PM that evening.  I also had no desire to have anything sweet during the rest of my stay in Paris.  The Mont Blanc was delicious!  The chocolat chaud was superb!  Both of them together?  Bad idea.  A Mont Blanc for each of us?  An even worse idea.  

Angelina's Mont Blanc was definitely one mountain that I could not conquer, and I was forced to leave half of it on the plate (The Momster devoured hers, but then she only had a light dinner that evening).  It consists of a disk of crispy meringue (something familiar to almost every Latin American) topped with sweetened whipped cream and topped with "chestnut vermicelli" which are what American would just call chestnut paste squiggles.  Having eating many Japanese wagashi (sweets) made with sweetened chestnut paste, I can safely say that no chestnut paste is sweeter or as rich as Angelina's.  Apparently, it's quite famous, too, because you can buy it on its own in their boutique.  The Mont Blanc is really an exemplary feat of patisserie and is something to be experienced when visiting Paris.  However, it should be had with a coffee and not with hot chocolate.  This can create a rather stressful predicament for a foodie with only a few days in Paris:  chocolat chaud or Mont Blanc?  Although the Mont Blanc is delicious, Angelina's hot chocolate is truly something not to be missed if you had to choose one thing to have at this iconic salon de thé.  Arriving in a porcelain pitcher with a demitasse of freshly whipped cream, Angelina's chocolat chaud l'africain is a chocoholic's drinkable fantasy - strong chocolate with a velvety mouthfeel that gives you something close to a high as well as an understanding of why this is one of the world's most prized commodities.  If you have to munch on something with your chocolat, I'd have a croissant.  At the sweetest, I'd have a small financier or even a couple of macarons....anything but the Mont Blanc.  In Paris, I've discovered, it's best to pace yourself when it comes to sweets.  Don't do it all at the same time, and definitely not at the same place, for there is just too much to discover for someone with a sweet tooth in the City of Lights.

Ladurée

75 Avenue des Champs Elysées, Paris

http://www.laduree.fr/

Angelina

226 Rue de Rivoli, Paris

http://www.angelina-paris.fr/#/home/

Eating in Paris: Au Pied du Sacré Coeur

After the major disappointment of our first meal in Paris at Le Moulin de La Galette, I was determined to make it up with an exceptional dinner.  I felt betrayed by the Time Out Paris iPod Touch app, so I decided not to trust it that evening.  Instead, I resorted to using a tool with which I have a strange love-hate relationship: Yelp.  I had been an avid Yelper a few years ago while I was unemployed, gaining notoriety as  both a good and controversial critic, and quickly gained Elite status on the website, granting me access to exclusive events and deals.  However, I had quickly taken down my account once I noticed how any idiot could post two-word reviews and gain Elite status while my Elite status was revoked due to my starting controversial threads on the forum (the least popular stated my distaste for South Florida's largest grocery chain, Publix).  One could say I became a little bitter by the experience and boycotted Yelp.  The website has a lot of flaws when viewed through the eyes of a serious foodie, and current rumors that the website actually asks businesses to pay them in order to hide negative reviews discredits the website even further.  However, it is a valuable tool to get a quick layout of the dining landscape in most places in the world, including Paris.  That evening, I was very thankful for having Yelp to steer me towards a fantastic (and affordable) meal close to our hotel.

When using Yelp in Paris, the reviews are divided between English language and French language reviews.  If you can read French or have access to a translator, the French reviews can be very helpful in getting a holistic sense of a restaurant when read along with the English reviews - you get both the tourist and the local perspective.  In the case of our restaurant selection that evening, both tourists and locals posted raving reviews that paid particular attention to the restaurant's low prices.  One French reviewer actually stated that it offered one of the best-priced meals he'd had in Paris.  The name of the restaurant is called Au Pied du Sacré Coeur, which translates to "At the Foot of the Sacred Heart".  Sacré Coeur is, of course, the famous church in Montmartre that overlooks all of Paris, which we had just visited earlier that day.  The ironic thing about this restaurant is that it is literally down a flight of steps from the iconic church, meaning that it was right under our noses while we had trudged through 19 degree weather to a less-than-satisfactory lunch at Le Moulin de La Galette.  This fact makes it an ideal dining destination after a trip to Sacré Coeur...and if it's your first day in Paris, Au Pied du Sacré Coeur will definitely let you know that you've arrived at one of the food capitals of the world!

The menu is traditional French (no East/West fusion or molecular gastronomy here) and seems to change daily. People seemed to rave about their soupe à l'oignon gratinée (French onion soup) for under 5 Euros, which is a mainstay on the menu.  The Momster and I had taken the Yelpers' advice (even the French Yelpeurs), and begun with the soupe à l'oignon, which arrived at our table with a golden-brown and crusty layer of gruyère concealing two rounds of crusty baguette floating in a rich beef and caramelized onion broth.  So far, Au Pied du Sacré Coeur was more than making up for our lousy lunch.

We had, with our food, two glasses of Girondas, a red wine with a spicy note that paired beautifully with our soup and main courses, which were really a revelation of all the good that good food could be.  The Momster had a dish of rabbit haunches stuffed with prunes and diced winter vegetables served with steamed slices of carrots and courgettes (zucchini) and fried wedges of potatoes.  The rabbit meat was tender and pulled apart easily with a fork, while the sweet stuffing complimented the white sauce blanketing the haunches.  The potatoes were a divine epiphany...one that, as a Peruvian, I am ashamed to never have had before:  the potatoes were exploding with flavor on their own, without salt or any condiment.  This was the first time in my life that I had experienced a potato with flavor, and now I understand why my father, mother, and all other Peruvians rave about the 500+ varieties of potatoes native to Peru.  If you're only reference of a potato's flavor is from consuming an Idaho spud or a Yukon Gold from the United States, you need to try a potato anywhere else in the world.  If you already love potatoes, you will adore and worship them!

The potatoes in my entrée, which were boiled, were also delicious and actually tangy - a departure from the sweet flavor of The Momster's fried potatoes.  My tangy boiled potatoes accompanied slices of juicy baked chicken breast stuffed with a blend of chopped dried figs and foie gras under a bed of brown sauce.  This was the other-worldy French cuisine that I had heard and read about - the kind that has inspired many people to take up professions in the food industry.  For a fleeting moment, while closing my eyes in near ecstasy, all memory of Le Moulin de La Galette disappeared.  I can't describe my dish other than stating that it was satisfyingly rich and perfectly balanced.  Each element shone through, and not one overpowered the other.

As if this dining experience could not get any better, that evening I was introduced to perhaps my favorite French dining tradition: ending the meal with cheese.  I love desserts, but very few sweets can win me over, and I usually find myself wanting something savory immediately afterwards.  That evening, The Momster and I shared une assiette de fromages, a plate with an assortment of chef-selected cheeses of that day.  Unfortunately, I did not write down the names, but it did include a Bleu d'Auvergne, as well as several soft cheeses similar to camembert and brie.  Spread on pieces of chewy baguette, I was hard-pressed to think of any sweet that would compare to the pleasure that these cheeses gave me that evening.

The best part of that evening was that our dinner cost us roughly the same as our lunch, and we left markedly more satisfied than we did at lunch.  After having dined at Au Pied du Sacré Coeur, my mood had improved and I was more optimistic about our trip to Paris.  Our walk back to our hotel was cheerful and full of excitement about the activities in the days to come.  Furthermore, dinner at Au Pied du Sacré Coeur had let me know that I had arrived at one of the capitals - if not the capital - of the gastronomic world.  I was very much looking forward to the next few days!

Au Pied du Sacré Coeur

85, Rue Lamarck

Paris, 18th Arrondissment

01.46.06.15.26

http://aupieddusacrecoeur.free.fr/index.html

Eating in Paris: Le Moulin de La Galette

After 5 years of having taking French lessons, passing the AP exams at the top of my class, and acing advanced French conversation in college, I was finally able to put my French language education to practical use last week in Paris.  It is true about what they say:  Paris is the most beautiful city in the world! I don't think I've ever been anywhere as gorgeous, sensual, and enchanting as Paris, and I felt more at home there than I have in most places.  While I did get to see a few museums and the various landmarks, this trip was about eating, and I wasted no time in sampling some of Paris's finer cuisine on my very first day after a visit to the Sacré Coeur church, which was about a 30 minute walk from our hotel.

One of the wonderful things I discovered about the dining scene in Paris is that almost every restaurant has a formule, or a prix-fixe menu, that varies in what it offers from restaurant to restaurant.  On the lower end there are formules that offer 2 courses (appetizer and entrée, or entrée and dessert), and then there are the more generous ones that offer 3 courses.  Most often,  there is an amuse-bouche that arrives at the table free of charge, which can be very elaborate or as simple as a plate of olives.  The other thing I love about dining in Paris is that the menu prices are all-inclusive of taxes and service, so it can oftentimes (even with exchange rates) come out to less than eating out in The States...for much better food, most of the time.  Diners are expected to give some loose change or a couple of Euros if the service was good.

Using a Time Out Paris app for my iPod touch, which does not require WiFi connection, The Momster and I decided to go to Le Moulin de La Galette for lunch after visiting Sacré Coeur in the Montmartre area of Paris.  Le Moulin was one of the few restaurants recommended by time out in Montmartre, and we were excited to sample our first French meal in Paris.  Located by an old landmark windmill (moulin translates to windmill in French), the location was cute and a little touristy (the guide warned us), and the interiors were well-appointed and elegant, but the cuisine was really lacking....at least what came as part of our formules.  I was so disappointed in the poor quality of the food, especially having such high expectations about dining in Paris, that our lunch left me angry and depressed.  Fortunately, the rest of my eating experiences in Paris more than made up for it, but it did teach me a valuable lesson about Parisian restaurants: just because it's in Paris does not mean it'll be good, and the discerning gourmand should take the time to do his or her research because, just like NYC, you can't expect to walk into any restaurant and have good food.  In other words, Paris has its share of merde restaurants just like any other city.

Our lunchtime formules at Le Moulin de La Galette were priced at 18 Euros per person and included 2 courses each (appetizer + entrée, or entrée + dessert).  We opted for the appetizer (called an entrée in French) and entrée (called a plat) option.  We were first brought an amuse-bouche of mildly tart caper berries marinated with a few cloves of garlic, which really primed the palate along with the couple of kirs that we ordered to toast our trip to Paris.  The kir is one of the quintessential apéritif cocktails of the French beverage repertoire and consists of dry white wine with a splash of crème de cassis, a liqueur made from black currants.  A kir royal consists of the same formula but with champagne in place of the white wine.

Our first courses arrived shortly after we finished the bowl of caper berries.  The Momster ordered a velouté of cauliflower that came with an apple-filled puff pastry.  The velouté was, as its name suggests, simply velvety and warming, which the apple puff pastry offered a nice contrast in both texture and flavor with a buttery crispiness from the crust along with a slight tartness and sweetness from the baked apples.  My first course consisted of sheet of salmon carpaccio served with a mild salmon tartare seasoned with lemon zest and chopped scallions.  Surrounding the plate were dollops of red pepper coulis, a thick concentration of green apple juice, and a viscous sauce made from orange rind.  The combination of the three sauces with the superbly fresh salmon was nice.  While we weren't blown away by our first courses, they did seem to offer a promising start...unfortunately, the finish did not deliver.

Several minutes after completing our entrées, we were brought our plats.  The Momster ordered a braised chicken quarter served with a white sauce and winter vegetables with a side of rice pilaf.  I received a crispy-skinned thick filet of a local fish on a bed of risotto flavored with fish roe with a puree of pumpkin.  You can blame it on my Latin American heritage, but I am hugely picky when it comes to rice and am a firm believer that with so many different starches to choose from, one shouldn't attempt rice if its not going to be absolutely perfect...especially at a nice restaurant.  The Momster's pilaf was akin to something out of a box of Rice-a-roni or Zataran's and was both mushy and undercooked...something I'm still scratching my head over.  My risotto was almost uncooked it was so crunchy, and while I was expecting the lovely little bursts offered by a judicious dollop of fish roe either gently blended into or topping the risotto, what I got was the dissatisfaction of fish roe being beaten and cooked into the rice rendering a flavor akin to that of a cheap can of kippers.  My filet of fish was overcooked to the point feeling like wood pulp in the mouth, which was the same experience The Momster had with her chicken.  I actually left half of the food on my plate and was anxious to get the check.

Strolling around Montmartre after lunch, we ran across Le Café des Deux Moulins, which is where Amélie worked in her namesake film.  Taschen's guide to Paris actually recommends it for its good, honest French brasserie fare, and after our experience at Le Moulin de La Galette, I kind of regretted not having lunch at this landmark restaurant.  Furthermore, speaking to a local later that evening (who stated that Le Moulin was très touristique), I discovered that the restaurant across the street from Le Moulin (which was popping when we passed by) was actually THE place to eat in Montmartre.  Unfortunately, I forgot the name, but I remember where it is.

After such a disappointing lunch, I was on a mission to make it up for dinner, which I managed to do exceptionally well, and which will be described in my next blog post.