Dining Around Paris

Especially with our upcoming exam. I don’t go out to eat that often. Last night was a slam dunk. Thanks to Gillian – the restaurant coordinator of the group.

Restaurant Le 404. Or just 404, if you’re in the hip crowd.

Moroccan-style cuisine. Tucked away on an obscure street in the 3rd arrondissement, rue des Gravilliers. Unassuming from the front – which usually make for the best places. Our party of 10 was placed in a small room upstairs. Overlooking the dinning room, we leaned around to see what was being served.

Tagines. Couscous. And pastillas are their specialty.

A tagine is a dish named for the pot it is cooked in. A cone shaped, clay pot – which promotes condensation to return to the bottom – is used for braising. The lamb tagine with raisons, prunes, peanuts, and a hard-boiled egg was the best. Per the waiter’s suggestion.

The 7 Vegetable Couscous was served with chickpeas and golden raisons on the side.

No one ventured out for the pastillas. A sweet-savory pastry – similar to phyllo-dough – traditionally filled with pigeon. 404 offered a pigeon and fish option.

A sure place to return to.

Restaurant 404
69, rue des Gravilliers
75003 Paris


Here are a few other places that are on my Return-List.

Fish La Boissonnerie
69, Rue de Seine
75006 Paris

Le Volant Basque
13 Rue Béatrix Dussane
75015 Paris

Le Cul de Poule
53 Rue des Martyrs
75009 Paris

Spring......................................................................Le Cordon Bleu - Final Examination

Spring has sprung in Paris.

Wind – part warm, part chill - whiffs by. Street performers setting up arenas. The sky’s deliverance of cleansing rain and refreshing sunshine. Childhood glee filling playgrounds. Hatched shells falling from nests. Thawed earth cracking open for rejuvenated growth.

A poetic gesture to suggest that life is progressing forward. Winter has closed. Spring is opening. The unavoidable, turning cycle.

Spring ushers a sense of freedom and release from winter’s captivity.

Picnics, long strolls, and endless café lunches are soon coming. Awestruck chateau visits, wine country tours, and coastal explorations also fit the warmer weather.

As for Le Cordon Bleu? Spring calls for examinations. My attention is being pulled by today’s weather, but my focus must remain in the books.

There are two parts to LCB’s final examination. Written and practical. Over 90 recipes. Multiple techniques. And pages of vocabulary terms. All are game.

Part one. Written exam. Thursday afternoon a recipe with blanks will be presented. Fill-in-the-blanks. Filling in quantity, ingredient, temperature, or time. Multiple-choice. Matching ingredient lists to recipes. True-False. Identifying reality based on French vocabulary terms.

Part two. Practical exam. Yesterday we were given a list of 10 recipes. All need to be committed to memory. On the day of the exam – upon entering the kitchen – we’ll draw a colored chip from a hat. The 10 recipes will have been whittled down to two. Our colored chip will correspond to one of the two dishes.

Then it’s 2.5 hours to complete our work. And anonymously present to non-Le Cordon Bleu chefs for grading. Bringing in outside chefs help to eliminate biases.

A second part to the practical exam is a technical dish. We have been told that we’ll need to turn two artichokes. Out of carrots, potatoes, mushrooms, and artichokes, we definitely were given the easiest. I shall never turn another carrot, potato, or mushroom.

In addition to my cuisine exam I also have one for my wine class. Written and practical, as well. Written will mainly be multiple-choice and true-false. The practical will be an opportunity for me to blind taste a wine - describing the appearance, nose, and taste. Determining if the level of acidity, tannins, and alcohol are in good balance. And how the wine enters, develops, and finishes on the palate. Ultimately, determining if the wine is in good harmony.

Studying – memorization and practice – is my current agenda. Wine exam is on Monday. Written cuisine on Thursday. And practical cuisine on the 17th of March. Then – believe it or not – Basic Cuisine will be over. One-third of my experience behind me.

With or without a successful examination, spring will fully bloom. And gently turn to summer.

Le Cordon Bleu - Instruction #23; Practical #23

The light week made it difficult to get back in the groove this morning.

I was less than thrilled when the alarm went off. A shower and walk to school didn’t pump me up any. The wind and rain didn’t do much to lift the spirits either.

Sitting through a slow, tedious demonstration by Chef Lesourd. Just trying to keep focus.

Instruction #23

• Grilled langoustines with spices, virgin olive oil sauce
• Salmon and watercress gratin
• Beef Stroganoff, rice with vegetables

Langoustines – shrimp with dramatic claws – are simple to prepare. Marinated in a mixture of milled anise, mace, coriander, cinnamon, cumin, ginger, and lemon zest. Then lightly pan fried. Deviating from the Le Cordon Bleu recipe, Chef made a jus from the crustacean’s carcasses. Served with a simple salad of mixed greens.


Having lost my attention by this point, Chef prepared the salmon and watercress gratin. Essentially salmon escalopes – blanched with white wine, salt, and pepper in the oven. Layered underneath lied sautéed mushrooms and watercress. Avocado. And sliced tomatoes. All topped with a mousseline sauce – egg yolks cooked Hollandaise-style. Clarified butter. Cream. Juice of half a lemon. And cayenne. Well it was suppose to have cayenne.

Our third dish, Beef Stroganoff, called for a lot of paprika. Some in the marinade. And some in the sauce. All went well until Chef tasted his sauce.

Paprika wasn't added. It was cayenne. Blowing the top off his head, Chef lectured us (really he was talking to his assistant) about how you must always double check each ingredient before adding it. I got a good chuckle out of this.

So. Needless-to-say. No cayenne was added to the salmon and watercress gratin.

Immediately following demo we had our practical for the Beef Stroganoff. This morning’s Chef Lesourd oversaw our group. Working methodically – but fast – I worked through the recipe.

Trimming, sectioning, and marinating the beef. Ultimately, pan searing. Making a sauce with paprika – not cayenne. And preparing my vegetables – all brunoise – for the rice.

Keeping my station clean with a casual wipe down. The components came together. And I presented my work to the chef.

Nothing. He said nothing, but très bonne. Not an item lacked in perfection on my plate. The meat was cooked perfectly. Sauce – nicely reduced, seasoned and just the right amount of cream. Rice was cooked (which might be a first for me, I struggle with rice for some reason). Vegetables uniformed little cubes. Très bonne.

A bit later as I was doing my final clean up the chef came by. Squeezed my shoulder and said that I had done a great, great job today. As if that wasn’t enough, he passed by a second time complimenting me on my outstanding cleanliness.

Chef gave me a solid, au revoir, bonne week-end – looking me in the eye - as I left the kitchen for the day.

This was big for me. Not so much the work that I produced. But, getting noticed.

I was beginning to think that I was unnoticeable. Always on-time. Clean. Prepared. Rarely ask questions because I usually have it down. Focused in the kitchen - keeping quiet and to myself. White. American. Male. Nothing really to make me stand out. You know, generic.

Wondering if any of the chef’s even know my name. I have been plotting on how I can get noticed. Perhaps whistle while I work? Start burning things? Or ask annoying questions?

Today showed me that diligence, good work – no make that great work – and cleanliness may be just what I need to get noticed by the chefs.

So, until my work is great without fail, I might just start humming a little Dean Martin while I cook.

Brussels, Belgium 2 of 2

There comes a moment of panic each time I arrive into a new city.

Gathering my sense of direction and an understanding for a new city can be difficult.

Arriving into Brussels’ Gare du Midi I realized that I knew very little of this place. I did not have an understanding of the size. Which direction was north. Or what to expect.

In some ways this was good because everything was a surprise. In other ways this was frustrating. For example, I couldn’t make my way from the train station because I didn’t know which way was up.

I jotted some walking directions to my hotel before for leaving Paris. I was unsuccessful at finding the first street. Anxious and almost ready to hail a cab I went back into the train station. Found a bookstore. Grabbed the travel guide for Brussels. And surveyed the map.

With a better sense of direction I tried again. This time successfully. Within an hour I had a sense of what Brussels was going to bring me. I knew the major landmarks. The district of my hotel. And where to find some classic-Belgium food.

I couldn’t but feel like a homing-pigeon in my first hour in this new town - the pigeon-flying capital of the world. My father is an avid pigeon-racer. So I know my pigeons. When brought to a new place it takes the birds some time to adjust. To recalibrate. Before they know which way to fly. Once adjusted they fly directly home. Without error.

Just like my father’s pigeons. Once I was adjusted. I wandered without fail.

My time was short – just about 24 hours. I was staying near the Grand Place, Brussels’ central square. Boarded with restaurants, cafes, and the city’s town hall.

I must admit that prior to my arrival I wasn’t sure what language they spoke in this country. Turns out. Everything. Well, French, Dutch, and English. I got around with some French and English. Signs throughout the city are mostly tri-lingual – making it easy to navigate.

Brussels is the biggest city in Belgium. Standing not only as the capital of Belgium, but of the European Union as well.

Catholic and Protestant cathedrals pepper the city. As you would expect in any large city, an abundance of museums, parks, and monuments can also be found.

I took a nice stroll up embassy row. Unable to take a photo of the American Embassy – as per the guard’s yelling – I have it permanently stored in my memory.

There was lots of rain. And moments of bright, blue sky. Here is a wonderful shot looking back on the city from Saint Jacques.

My time also took me into the Musée Magritte Museum‎ dedicated to surrealist artist, René Magritte.

Finally, I dove deep into the food of Belgium. Mussels. Beer. Chocolate. Waffles. And a dish called stoemp – mashed potatoes with root vegetables (Brussels sprouts!), accompanied by bacon, and sausage.

Brussels is only an hour and a half train ride from Paris. I will definitely be coming back here soon.

Brussels, Belgium 1 of 2

This is a rather light week. Practical on Tuesday. Instruction, practical on Friday. That’s it. Sometimes we have too much free time.

Nonetheless, Carolyn and I are taking advantage of our lack of school (and our Rail-Pass) to travel. I purchased a 3-country; 2-month; 5-travel-day, Rail-Pass. My countries are France, Switzerland, and Brussels/Netherlands/Luxemburg – they count them as one country.

The first two travel-days were used for Provence. Carolyn and I have been in Brussels for the past two days. Using two more.

I am not sure what to do with the fifth – and final – travel day. Deadline is March 21st before it expires. Perhaps a one-way to Switzerland? Or a day-trip to Dijon? Hmmm, to be determined!

Le Cordon Bleu - Instruction #22; Practical #22

Instruction #22

• Warm oysters with Muscadet wine
• Roast duckling with turnips
• Warm orange and Cointreau soufflé

Raw oysters are delicious. Warm oysters gratifying. Cooked oysters horrendous. Disgusting. Disagreeable. Rubber. Tire. Crap.

Lesson? Don’t overcook oysters. Trick? Place the oysters in a small sauce pan with poaching liquid. Put on high heat with your finger in the pan. When the temperature is just about too much for your finger to handle, take the oysters off the heat. Out of the poaching liquid. And they’ll be perfectly cooked.

Chef Lesourd led Saturday’s instruction. He’s great in the practical kitchen. Not so much for demonstration. Giving little time for the translator to do her job, portions of the lesson are lost. He’s slow – dragging the day out to the bitter end. And he’s a bit erratic. We were all getting restless by the end. Saturday mid-day probably didn’t help our patience either.

After the oysters we were exposed to some more turned vegetables. This time, turnips. Still unclear as to why France does this, we all sort of grumbled under our breath.

Roasted duck – possibly my favorite protein – accompanied the turnips. In the exact manner we roasted chicken, the duck was prepared.


Finally, a sweet soufflé for dessert. In honor of Le Cordon Bleu’s president and CEO, André J. Cointreau, the soufflé was flavored with the liquor of his namesake. An orange-y essence filled the room as the soufflé rose in the oven.

This practical was all too familiar. Basically the same recipe as Lesson #9, poulet rôti. Substituting duck for chicken. For the first time, the recipe was routine. Something that I knew by heart. Barely needing the recipe. It went smooth and without issues. Chef Stril suggested a little less reduction on the jus next time. Otherwise, très bonne.

Le Cordon Bleu - Wine Essentials #5

Red wine is basically white wine with two additional steps. Maceration. And malolactic fermentation.

Maceration is the process of allowing the crushed juices to sit with the grape skins. Extracting the skin’s pigments and thus coloring the wine. Since all grape juice is white this needs to occur for all red wines. Subsequently, you can make white wine from red grapes. Skipping the maceration step.

Champagne is the most famous example. Champagne is made from chardonnay (white grape), pinot-noir (red grape), and pinot-menie (red grape). Once the grapes have been burst open the juice is immediately removed for white champagne. Or, allowed to slightly macerate for rosé champagne.

In general, white wine comes from white grapes. And red wine comes from red grapes. In France that is. There are other examples from around the world.

The grapes are named blanc de noir – white of black – white juice with a black (or red) skin. And blanc de blanc – white of white – white juice with white skin.

The second additional step in red wine production – malolactic fermentation – must occur. In fact, it will occur naturally at some point in the process. This is the transformation of malic acid into lactic acid. Encouraged by bacteria, this ultimately softens the wine by reducing the acidity.

During malolactic fermentation an abundance of CO2 is produced. CO2 which must escape. If malolactic fermentation occurs after bottling, the pressure will pop out the cork. Something good to get out of the way prior to bottling.

Wine is aged – temporarily – in barrels. Usually oak barrels. Our professor made it clear that oak-taste in wine is not necessarily a good thing. Oak is used to impart structure on wine. To give it a skeleton to develop on during bottle aging. Oak adds tannin – astringency – to the wine. Too much can taste bitter.

We were reminded that wine is a fruit drink. Made of grapes. This should be the first aroma on the nose and the first taste on the mouth. Not oak. Not alcohol. And certainly not something else.

The various segments of vines that are brought into the winery with the grapes can also have some use. For wine production, the vines can also add tannin if left to macerate with the juice. This is hard to control and is seldom done. Stems usually end up producing a type of fertilizer to be used else where.

The juice and pulp-ly goodness of skins, stems, and seeds, are placed in a large stainless-steel vat. For fermentation. As the CO2 is created, forming bubbles, they rise to the top. As they journey to the surface, impurities – skins, etc… - attach and float along. Forming a cap. Maximizing the juices’ contact with the skins, wine is pumped from the bottom and pour over the top. Through the cap. Mixing it all up.

Once the fermentation is completed the wine is extracted through a filtered-pipe at the bottom of the vat. This is called free-run wine. This is 90-95% of the wine. The balance is left in the sediments that have sucked up some of the juice. This is pressed thus creating, pressed wine.

Pressed wine is very dark and highly tannic. Portions of this wine might be added to the free-run wine to create a balanced, tasty product. Pressed wine is not always used. If the free-run wine is to the wine-makers liking then there is no need for additions.

This class marked my second to last. That means with the final class next week comes a written and blind-tasting exam. My written cuisine exam is also coming up next week. I can’t believe it’s here so soon. Needless to say, there is a lot of studying in my near future!

Session #5 – Tastes

• Côtes du Rhône (grenache, syrah, carignan) by Mas des Roches, 2007
• Côteaux du Tricastin (syrah ) by La Truffière, 2007
• Côtes de Bourg (merlot, cabernet-franc, cabernet-sauvignon) by Relais de Poste, 2006
• Santenay (pinot-noir) by Olivier Leflaive, 2006

American Olympics - Paris Style

U.S.A. – 5

Canada – 3

Upsettingly – to Canadians – Team USA won Sunday’s Olympic hockey game.

Some friends wanted to watch the game. Which sounded sort-of fun to me. Screaming at a television. Honoring the red, white, and blue of the American flag. Synchronized in song. Fun, right?

The only problem was the game was broadcast live. Again, no problem until you adjust for local time. 1:30 a.m. The beginning of the game. A little more math put my bedtime at 5:30 a.m. A usual wake-up time for me. Not bed-time. [yawn!]

It was an adventure. Jacked up on some strong coffee, I was raring to go. The best place to catch the game was a Canadian bar on the left bank. The Great Canadian Pub. This bonded the Americans even more. Just in case, we temporarily gave our two Irish friends American citizenship – to help balance out the numbers.

It was a blast. Cheering for your team. Taunting the other side. And, of course, victory!

I had a moment. Forgetting that I was in France. Forgetting that I was away from home. It was comforting. I suppose experiences like these are what help bridge the gap of loneliness and isolation.

U! S! A! … U! S! A! … U! S! A!

More Than a Walk in the Park

Naturally my walk began in the 15th arrondissement. In my neighborhood.

Today’s route. 6.4 kilometers. 4 miles. The goal? Basilique du Sacré Coeur.

I try to explore Paris as much as possible in my free-time. Learning the streets. Hitting the tourist stops. And living like a real Parisian.

The beginning of my journey was typical. Passing my local shops, winding through familiar streets, and nodding to my neighbors. The 15th is one of the more residential arrondissements of Paris. Other than Le Cordon Bleu, there really isn’t much to do. In terms of tourist attractions. Just what I was looking for – the real Paris experience. Sans tourists.

Once pass the Eiffel Tower I entered the 7th. Still residential, but peppered with official Paris buildings and various embassies. More hotels than the 15th and much more to do. The Invalides – namely Napoleon’s grave – and the Rodin Museum are a couple of the major stops. The 7th begins the posh-ness of Paris. Fine épiceries. Classed wine caves. And slick clothing stores.

Turning my back to the left bank, I crossed the Seine at Pont de l’Alma. Arriving in the 8th on Avenue Montaigne. Cavalli. Jimmy Choo. Louis Vuitton. And the like, line this fashion-capital street. The street’s pulse was kept by fast-walking stilettos and floor-lengthened furs. Glitz, glamour, and glory (presumably).

Still in the 8th, but on the other end of Avenue Montaigne – where it turns into Avenue Matignon - there was a different scene. White table cloths were replaced with Chinese fast food joints. Sneakers seemed to have taken the street’s gate. And a semi-frantic mood took over the earlier, relaxed, out-to-lunch feel.

From the 8th I snuck passed the 17th and entered the 18th. You know you’re in the 18th when store fronts are plastered with naked ladies. Men on the street bark for their strip clubs. And the air is some thing of a stink. Lovely. Needed to capture a photo of the infamous Moulin Rouge I continued to walk. Luckily it was day time and strip clubs aren’t my thing. It was a short visit.

Down the street – up the hill – laid Sacré Coeur. As I approached tourists begin to swarm around me. Like gnats. Trying to keep from swatting, I dodge through to the foot of my destination.

Sacré Coeur is a beautiful – and enormous – Catholic basilica. Which is interesting in its own right. But really you come here for the view of Paris. The church sits on Montmartre – the highest point of the city. 360 degree views. Stunning.

There is a small town-like area built up around Sacré Coeur. Tourist-heavy, but charming. Small, cobble-stoned streets climbing up and down the hillside. It’s San Francisco meets old world Europe.

Bruna and I took some coffee and a light snack and then headed home.

As for my journey back? I took the metro!

Le Cordon Bleu - Instruction #21; Practical #21

A typical bistro menu. Lesson #21’s menu.

The day started out smooth. Putting together a sweet pastry dough. Rolled with pistachios. Baked. Topped with sweet mascarpone, whipped cream. And garnished with strawberries.


To serve 8.

Sweet Pastry Dough
125 g flour
30 g powdered sugar
Vanilla powder
Salt
85 g butter, cold, diced into small pieces
------------
30 g pistachios or hazelnuts, crushed

Filling
150 g mascarpone
6-8 basil leaves, finely chopped
Vanilla extract
100 g cream, whipped
-------------
1 kg strawberries, hulled, washed, and quartered

Sauce
200 ml orange juice
50 ml balsamic vinegar
50 g sugar (if needed)

Filling Mix mascarpone, basil, and vanilla extract. Fold in whipped cream. Fill pastry bag fitted with a round tip and store in refrigerator. Roll the strawberries with a little bit of powdered sugar, vanilla, and balsamic vinegar. Allow to macerate at room temperature. Drain, reserving juice to decorate the plate.
Dough Mix the dry ingredients in a large bowl. With fingertips, incorporate the butter until a sand-like consistency. Drop onto a sheet of parchment paper and finish kneading until a ball forms. Do not over knead. (Note, the dough will be very crumbly before and after baking.) Let rest at room temperature for about 30 minutes. Roll dough out into 1/3 – 1/4 inch rounds. While rolling, top with pistachios, working into dough. Cut desired shapes with ring molds or cookie cutters. Gather scraps and repeat. Bake in a preheated 170 degree Celsius oven for 10 minutes. Slide onto a rack to stop cooking.
Sauce At a slight simmer reduce orange juice until a syrupy consistency. Do the same with the balsamic vinegar in separate sauce pans. If the orange juice is not sweet enough, add sugar. Once the sugar has dissolved strain the orange juice, and balsamic vinegar into one sauce pan. Combining them. Bring back to a boil, and slightly reduce. Strain.

Decorate baked dough with mascarpone mixture and strawberries. Garnish plate with orange juice/balsamic sauce and reserved strawberry juice.

To start the typical bistro menu we made a lightly saffroned mussel soup. A fairly simple soup, packed with flavor.

Sandwiched between the mussel soup and strawberry biscuits was a sautéed veal chop. Served with onions, mushrooms, and lardons. Prepared grand-mère style. And finished with shallow-fried, olive-turned potatoes.

My practical for the veal chop was this morning. Saturday morning, 8:30 a.m. I was trimming some raw veal. A great way to start the weekend!

Having Chef Lesourd – my current favorite chef – the group pressed through the recipes. Everything went well for the most part. My potatoes were a bit undercooked and my jus wasn’t degreased.

That brings me back to the instruction. Like I said, the day started off smooth. Chef Stril, in his usual fashion took us through the recipes. About two-thirds into his demonstration things started to unravel. Get a bit chaotic in fact.

Things falling off the counter. Loosing ingredients. Running out of items. Forgetting where he was. Chaos irrupted. The class. Shocked. Held our breath. And hoped for the end.

In the midst of Chef Stril’s chaos he managed to burn his potatoes. Neglect to degrease his jus. And presented some sad-looking desserts. Wow.

We all felt bad for the chef. We could tell that it was a bad day. A day that I am sure he just wanted to finish.

When things begin to fall apart you start to panic. Stress-bubbles pop within. You rush and try to correct. There comes a point however, when you just give up. And all you want is for it to be finished. No matter the outcome, you move as quickly as possible to the finish-line.

Once the potatoes started to burn, we could tell that Chef Stril gave up a little bit. It was from here that he just moved as fast as he could to the end.

We all knew not to cook our potatoes as black as we saw in the demonstration room. But we didn’t know to degrease our jus. Everyone in my practical this morning was given this advice. Always degrease your jus. Always. Now we know. That in spite of what we see during instruction, there are fundamentals that we need to follow.

It’s nice to know that even professional chefs have off days.

Lesson 21 – A typical bistro menu

• Lightly saffroned mussel soup
• Sautéed veal chops, Grand-mère style garnish (glazed onions, mushrooms and lardons)
• Strawberries Italian-style with pistachio biscuits

Cooking Meat in France

Rare. Medium-rare. Medium. Well-done. These terms mean something wildly different in France.

Rare, bleu, is practically raw. Still moo-ing, in fact. Bleu refers to the bloody rawness. As blood is blue - before it hits oxygen and turns red - so shall the meat be served. Americans might actually call this, extra-rare.

Saignant – bloody – is the next level. As the term implies, this meat still drips of blood. U.S. restaurants would refer to this as, rare.

The French concept of medium-rare can still be a bit too raw for my taste. Ordered à point will be a bit firmer, but still have a red center.

Most Americans order, cuit – cooked. Technically this is medium, but compared to French standards less cooked than medium in other countries. All blood will have been rendered and cooked. The center is still pink with a delicate texture. Naturally firmer than the previous three methods.

The final two methods are, bien cuit – well cooked and, très, très, très cuit – very, very, very cooked (as the chef put it). Practically gray, and leather, respectively.

From left to right, bleu, Saignant, cuit, and très, très, très, cuit.

Here is the official United States Department of Agriculture's recommendations. Not that I would follow them, as I think they are a bit overdone.