Vacated

 

 

With the recent canicule, coronavirus precautions and August vacances, usually crowded streets near the Basilica are eerily empty.

 

A summer ardoise

It's lunchtime, and the chalkboard ardoise listing the day's specials is brought to our tables.

Above: ready to order but first, a refreshing bottle of rosé to share

Graphoto

A photograph on a Montmartre wall known for its ever-changing graffiti.

Soirée dînatoire

These photos, from the sensational apéro dînatoire held at Le Cordon Bleu École de Cuisine to showcase student skills, represent only a portion of the evening's offerings.

 As champagne and wine flowed tray after mouth-watering tray materialized from busy kitchens. Chefs helmed tables carving, grilling and plating an astounding array of beautiful hors-d'oeuvres and delectable small plates.

Above: layered verrines of lobster cream atop a gazpacho base; seared foie gras garnished w/popcorn (!); succulent roasted lamb w/couscous

 Below: gourmet terrines being turned into canapés on artisanale country loaves; poached "eggs in nests" w/their crispy mouillettes; petit fours.... 

***

With thanks and congratulations to the remarkable team and students of Le Cordon Bleu, Paris

Aller-retour

Our week in Provence was bookended by a stop in the Auvergne-Aubrac on the way there, and Burgundy on the return trip, two beloved regions.

Above: impressive castle with sunset view from a hilltop village in Burgundy; last cafés crèmes before heading home

Below: breakfast table in the Aubrac countryside

Garlic Provence

Please, treat your garlic with respect! - Anthony Bourdain, U.S. celebrity chef, author, travel writer

Above: ail rose (pink garlic) from Lautrec

***

If I had to pick one ingredient that embodies Provençal cuisine, I'd have to say, garlic. In France, the purple variety called ail rose or pink garlic from Lautrec (a village just an hour's drive from Toulouse) beckons from many a market stall. Provençal cuisine, with its liberal use of garlic, wild thyme and other herbs, lemons, peppers, anchovies, tomatoes, capers, olives and olive oil often gets compared to cuisines of southern Italy and parts of Spain, nearby regions that share an identical terroir.

 

We have French family in that region and one dish, a hearty sort of fish stew that emerges only on special occasions, would be incomplete without its aïoli on the side. My favorite, from Spain, is made by pounding garlic cloves into a smooth paste with coarse salt and a small amount of fresh lemon juice (is there any other kind?) in a stone mortar, then incorporating green olive oil little by little until everything magically emulsifies. No egg. French aïoli, which is what I usually make using an immersion blender, is quicker and more like a mayonnaise. My mother-in-law's version incorporates mustard instead of lemon juice, salt, and an egg yolk, then all is vigorously mixed with a fork as quality olive oil is drizzled in bit by bit, and when it reaches the right thickness, crushed garlic is added, but only at the end. - BPJ

Below: garlic, almonds, walnuts and hazelnuts ready to be taken home and pounded into a pistou

  

Tomorrow:

More Provence

A book in Montmartre

 

 

Denis Leary's bestseller "Why We Suck: A Feel Good Guide to Staying Fat, Loud, Lazy and Stupid," as brilliant today as ever.