CURIOUS

Paris is filled with architectural wonders: Notre-Dame, the Eiffel Tower, the Grand Palais, Pei’s Pyramid… Whether medieval, contemporary or anywhere in between, the city offers enough structures to fill your time for weeks. After hitting the must-see monuments and museums, those of us who are lucky enough to visit Paris frequently become flâneurs: we just wander around, looking up and looking down, taking in the little details that regular guidebooks do not cover. We start noticing the different designs of heurtoirs and chasse-roues, niches in stone walls that used to contain oil lamps, public horloges and cadrants solaires, old wells with their iron pulleys, street signage that preceded the familiar cobalt enamel plaques, bullet marks that remind us of turbulent times, the occasional boîte à sable, perhaps even the boule aux rats at the church of Saint-Germain-l’Auxerrois.

Sundials. There are 120 of them scattered around Paris, including this monumental one on rue Perrée, 3rd arr.

Four years ago, I picked up a copy of Curiosités de Paris from éditions Parigramme. They specialize in Paris-centric titles and I own almost all of them. It quickly became my inseparable travel companion. I refer to it for explanations about odd architectural discoveries I make during my walks. Sometimes, I comb the book ahead of my trip to identify unusual sights and objects I will encounter in the areas I plan to visit. The book is organized by categories but also features an index by arrondissement that cross-references hundreds of small treasures. Here are a few samples gleaned from my various scavenger hunts.

Corner guards. Ubiquitous at the entrance of old doors, they can be made of stone or cast iron. So many different designs, all made to protect the corners of a building from the wheels and axles of carriages. Rue Notre-Dame de Nazareth, 3rd arr. To the left, a leveling marker.

Street corner religious statues. Former oratory niches with statuettes of Mary, Madonna and Child, or various saints. Maison Bleue, across Notre-Dame-des-Victoires used to sell religious objects. 2nd arr.

Guild signage. To identify trades and occupations. A cast iron Graphic Arts panel replaces a window on rue Crussol, 11th arr.

Measuring instruments. Thermometers and barometers are less common than clocks but this one in passage Bourg l’Abbé is particularly stunning. 2nd arr.

Tombs. Strolling the cemeteries yields fascinating discoveries such as the Pigeon family grave in Montparnasse. He patented a portable gasoline lamp. 14th arr.

Vestiges of gas lighting. Before la fée électricité, street lighting used gas and fire stations had their own distinctive lanterns. Rue du Château-d’Eau, 10th arr. 

Ceramics and mosaics. On floors, ceilings, storefronts, building entrances… sometimes, the whole street is a visual feast. One of eight arcades of mosaics featuring wild animals at passage Rauch, 11th arr.

Architectural oddities. A drive-through château? Why not? Château des Ternes in the 17th arr.

Clocks. Old public clocks abound but this one at the 24-hour Central Post Office on rue du Louvre sticks out on a bracket to improve visibility: essential to make sure your tax return is stamped before midnight. 1st arr.

I was thrilled when this book was translated into English last year. The publisher sent me an advanced copy and I promptly added it to our catalog selection. It is a fantastic compendium of exciting, unusual finds.

My French and American copies

But I’m still curious about something. Did you ever notice that the spines of French and American books read in opposite directions? Anybody knows why? Please, post your theories in the comments section.

Vocabulary
Le flâneur: someone who strolls aimlessly
Le heurtoir: door knocker
Le chasse-roues: corner guard
L’horloge (f): clock
Le cadrant solaire: sundial
La boîte à sable: sandbox (used in case of icy streets)
La boule aux rats: ball of rats
La fée électricité: electricity fairy

COOKING WITH BOCUSE

Full disclosure: I did not actually cook in Paul Bocuse’s kitchen; that would have truly been a Moment Parfait. But I did find myself in his immediate vicinity at SIRHA in Lyon some fifteen years ago. Attending that trade show brought me pretty close to foodie heaven not just because of the fantastic products I discovered but because I also had the opportunity to observe talented chefs pushing the envelope in food prep, execution, and presentation. Buyers at food shows move at a very slow pace: we are continuously stopping to shake hands with vendors, watch videos showcasing pots, pans, or knives, and sample food bites (I know, you all want my job right now.) I was leisurely walking the aisles of the show when traffic came to a standstill. I figured there was a compelling demo a few booths ahead. I then realized the source of attention was actually in the aisle. Initially, I only caught a quick glimpse of a white toque towering over the crowd; a short while later, I found myself just a few feet away from Monsieur Paul. Sporting his tall chef’s hat, he was also dressed in his “frog coat” adorned with the blue, white, and red striped collar that can only be worn by recipients of the Meilleur Ouvrier de France* award. He was escorted by a small entourage and I assume he was making his way to the Bocuse d’Or competition**, an international event that started in 1987, long before Iron Chef and Chopped became popular TV entertainment.

Inside Brasserie de l'Est. Look at the miniature train at the top of the photo and the marquise showing through the window. Photo credit for this picture and the top one: Brasserie de l'Est.

Since I didn’t have private transportation (nor the budget!) to head out of Lyon and experience Bocuse’s celebrated restaurant in Collonges, I thought the next best thing would be to have dinner at one of his brasseries in the city. As luck would have it, Brasserie de l’Est was a mere fifteen-minute walk from my hotel. I loved the location –an old gare– and the décor: a stunning iron-and-glass marquise above the entrance, an open kitchen, a miniature train circulating on miniature tracks above the dining room. I remember being so impressed with the simple salade gourmande: lovely bouquets of mâche dressed in an olive oil vinaigrette with shallots, tender coeurs d’artichauts, perfectly cooked haricots verts, topped with a buttery slice of duck foie gras.

My first cookbook!

As soon as I flew back to California, I had to recreate that perfect salad and add it to my repertoire. The recipe was not listed in Paul Bocuse In Your Kitchen, the very first cookbook I bought after moving to the US but, by then, I was able to execute a satisfactory rendition. The funny thing is that I grew up around women who routinely produced 4-course meals twice a day but I didn’t actually start cooking until I left France. Chef Paul, Chef Jacques (Pépin), and Julia (Child) became my teachers through their books and their TV shows. Soupe à l’Oignon, Sole Meunière, Coq au Vin, Boeuf Bourguignon, Mousse au Chocolat: I had savored all those dishes throughout my childhood but these iconic figures are the ones who really taught me how to cook. Paul Bocuse just passed away last week. He was a giant, the pope of French cuisine. His lessons and his passion will always stay with me. Come to think about it: his French Onion Soup sounds simply perfect right now.

Onion soup: a staple of French cuisine

Paul Bocuse’s French Onion Soup
Soupe à l’oignon de Paul Bocuse

2 tbsp butter
4 medium onions, peeled and sliced
2 tbsp flour
6 cups beef bouillon or water
½ an 8-ounce loaf of French bread, cut in half lengthwise
2 cups freshly grated Swiss cheese
2 tbsp butter (for layering)
Pepper
2 tbsp breadcrumbs

Melt 2 tbsp butter in a large saucepan, add the onions, and brown slightly. Stir in the flour and when it begins to color add the bouillon or water, stirring constantly. Cook over moderate heat uncovered for 15 minutes. Toast the bread under the broiler, then cut into thick slices. Preheat the oven to 400ºF. In a soup tureen that you can put in the oven, place a third of the bread, sprinkle with a quarter of the cheese, 2 tsp of softened butter, and a little pepper. Make three layers in this way, then pour the soup into the tureen, sprinkle with the breadcrumb and the remaining cheese, and place in the oven for 20 minutes or until the cheese and breadcrumbs have browned. Serve immediately. Serves 4.

Vocabulary
La toque: tall (and stiff) chef’s hat
La gare: train station
La marquise: in this context, a glass and iron porch above an entrance
La mâche: lamb’s lettuce
Le coeur d’artichaut: artichoke heart
Le haricot vert: slender green bean
La soupe à l’oignon: French onion soup
La sole meunière: sole with a butter lemon sauce
Le coq au vin: rooster in red wine
Le boeuf bourguignon: beef stew in red wine
La mousse au chocolat: chocolate mousse

*Meilleur Ouvrier de France: for some insight on what is involved to get this culinary award, watch the trailer to The Kings of Pastry, an entertaining and fascinating documentary.

** Bocuse d'Or: watch highlights of the 2017 competition. The US team took Gold for the first time!

MOMENTS PARFAITS IN PARIS

Many people dream of being writers. I was not one of them. As a math major in high school, I didn’t focus on creative endeavors and certainly didn’t imagine I would ever publish a book. But here we are: my book is out.

Madame Delaborde, my 8th-grade French teacher, gave me a 16/20 on a story I wrote about my grandparents’ farm and I was beaming with pride when she read it out loud to the class. Seconds later, I felt completely embarrassed when she pointed out –in front of the whole class, of course– that she deducted one full point because of a spelling mistake. Such was the French school system or, perhaps, a “tough love” teacher.

Over the years French friends urged me to write. In French. A couple of decades later American friends told me they enjoyed my writing. In English. I was a hybrid writer navigating between two different worlds and two different realms of punctuation. I was not convinced I had anything meaningful to share but my outlook changed a few years ago: people not only liked my stories, they also liked my photography.

Every book has a genesis. The first one –the first born– is always close to the heart: this book was inspired by my conversations with my ailing father. Moments Parfaits in Paris blends some of my favorite photographs with my most beloved stories. It is a series of forty vignettes covering every arrondissement of Paris: a photo, an anecdote, some historical notes and travel tips. Like me, this book is a bit of a hybrid... I hope you’ll enjoy it. Here is a preview of the book with photos, a sample story, and the table of contents.

And now, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that spelling mistakes (and Madame Delaborde) will not come back to haunt me!

PAULA WOLFERT

After moving to the USA in the early 80s, I had a standing Saturday rendez-vous with PBS and their lineup of cooking shows. There were only a handful of celebrity chefs back then: Julia, Jacques, and Justin who always sipped some of the wine his recipe called for.

I had never heard of Paula Wolfert until I noticed one of her books at my –now defunct– favorite bookstore: The Cooking of Southwest France. The 1984 soft cover edition didn’t have any mouth-watering color photos but I hardly needed them: I was in familiar territory. The list of recipes immediately transported me back to my grandmother’s kitchen where she would cook the mique in the fireplace, simmer her civet de lapin on one of her two gas burners, or bake a clafoutis in a tiny windowless oven. Reading Paula’s anecdotes and notes to the cook, I could have sworn that she had actually met my grandma, helped her pluck a chicken and shared a glass of ratafia while chatting about peasant life in the Quercy. I bought the book.

Paula called my office twenty years later. I recognized her name as soon as she introduced herself. She had just completed the revised edition of her book. Before listing Joie de Vivre as a resource for meats and grocery items, she wanted to talk to a “real” person and make sure the company would be around for a while… We had a very pleasant conversation and I felt like I was talking to an old friend. A few months afterward, a fresh copy of the completely updated Cooking of Southwest France showed up in the mail. Before I had a chance to shelf the new hardcover tome next to my original copy, Emma (long hair dachshund #2) managed to gnaw on the bottom right corner of the book; perhaps to indicate interest or register approval…

I never met Paula in person but kept aware of her subsequent publications: the foods of Morocco, Spain, and the Mediterranean received the same in-depth treatment as Southwest France. I eventually followed her on Facebook, shortly after she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Far from hiding her illness, she has embarked on a new adventure, exploring the relationship between food and memory; and Emily Kaiser Thelin, her former editor at Food and Wine, just published a biography (Unforgettable: The Bold Flavors of Paula Wolfert’s Renegade Life) interwoven with fifty quintessential recipes. In case you’re wondering, her famous Toulouse Cassoulet recipe is included: it’s widely considered the gold standard. It sounds like a fascinating read and I’m pretty sure I’ll pick up a copy. I just need to make sure that Lily (long hair dachshund #3) doesn’t chew on it…

Vocabulary
La mique: a big dumpling cooked in broth and vegetables
Le civet de lapin: rabbit stew in red wine
Le clafoutis: a custardy cake, usually filled with cherries
Le ratafia: a sweet aperitif made with non-fermented grape juice and brandy. It can also be made with other macerated fruits.

Paula's Crème de Haricots de Maïs
Creamy Bean Soup with Croutons and Crispy Ventrèche
Serves 4 to 6

 
1 pound dried Tarbais beans
1 carrot, cut into ¼ inch dice
1 large onion, cut into ¼ inch dice
4 tablespoons duck fat
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1 cup diced crustless dense country bread
3 ounces lean ventrèches, pancetta, jambon de Bayonne, or Serrano ham, slivered (about ½ cup)
2 tablespoons minced fresh chives
1 cup heavy cream
Pinches of piment d’Espelette

 1/ Pick over the beans and soak them in water to cover by at least 2 inches for 12 hours.

 2/ The following day, rinse and drain the beans and set aside. Meanwhile, in a heavy 4 to 5-quart flameproof pot, preferably earthenware, gently cook the carrots and onions in 2 tablespoons of the duck fat, stirring, until tender, 5 to 10 minutes. Scoop out and reserve about ¼ cup of the onions and carrots. Add the drained beans and 2 quarts fresh water to the pot. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to moderately low, add a pinch of salt and pepper, and simmer for 2 hours, or until the beans are tender and the liquid is reduced.

 3/ In a medium skillet, heat the remaining duck fat. Add the diced bread, slivered ventrèche, and the reserved carrots and onions. Fry, stirring, until crisp. Remove to a side dish, add the chives, and set aside.

 4/ Let the beans cook slightly, scoop out about 1/3 for garnish and set aside. Press batches of the remaining beans and liquid through the fine blade of a food mill or puree in a food processor or blender. Add the bean puree to the soup. Stir in the cream; bring to a boil and simmer for 5 minutes. Correct the seasoning with salt, pepper, and red pepper to taste.

 5/ To serve, divide the reserved beans among soup bowls, ladle the hot soup over the beans, and garnish each portion with a spoonful mixture of fried onion and ventrèche mixture. Serve at once.

 Joie de Vivre carries Tarbais beans, duck fat, Espelette pepper, and ventrèche.