27 Nov 2008, 3:25pm
Food & Wine French Life Paris:
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Food, Wine and Giving Thanks

We’re all foodies today.  No matter how or where or what is served up, Thanksgiving marks the one day out of the year when we Americans collectively reflect on what we are grateful for and then feast on hearty helpings of mashed potatoes, turkey with cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie.  When I lived in France, I can remember it being said that Thanksgiving was the day when Americans ate the best, even better than the French.  Although somewhat off-handed, that was quite the compliment, especially considering the chauvinistic attitude often exhibited in France toward fine cuisine.  

Clotilde's Possible Choice for Her Thanksgiving Potluck

Warm Hokkaido Squash and White Bean Salad: Clotilde's Possible Choice for Her Thanksgiving Potluck

Thankfully we have super foodies out there blasting the blogosphere on a regular basis with food and wine information that tantalizes our taste buds year-round.  I invited two of them, Clotilde Dusoulier and Ronald Holden, to be guests on Travel Fun this week for a Food and Wine special.  Both live with one fork (or should I say, one glass raised?) in France and America, a not-so insignificant fact that in my opinion lends more credo to their gastronomic perspectives.  

Paris-based food writer, Clotilde Dusoulier, took center stage first, largely chatting about her blog, ChocolateandZucchini.com, that she founded five years ago.  (It started off in  English, but after much pressure from her countrymen, she finally began to post a French version a year and a half ago.)  “I wanted to create a space where I could document food adventures in general,”  she said.  A cornucopia of recipes are posted on her site, most of which come with a story.  Not surprisingly Clotilde cooks a lot with vegetables and loves to bake (I’m sure with copious amounts of chocolate).  Veggies, however, dominated our interview, talk that made me yearn for the glorious produce of France where virtually everything you buy tastes twice as flavorful as in the U.S.  “I find myself designing meals around the vegetable part and then adding protein.  I get inspired by the season and the offerings at the green market,” Clotilde said.  If only I could beam myself into France on occasion to do my marketing!

Clotilde from ChocolateandZucchini.com

Clotilde from ChocolateandZucchini.com

Clotilde planned to join some American friends in Paris today for a Thanksgiving potluck.  When she told me this I didn’t comment on it, but in the eleven years I lived in France I neither attended nor hosted a potluck—a very American tradition that’s terribly un-French.  Perhaps the country is becoming even more Americanized than I realized.

The ever-so entertaining Ronald Holden had me practically clinking glasses with him over the airwaves.  Ronald, who created Cornichon.org, is a terrific food and wine enthusiast, however, we focused mainly on wine in our segment.  (I was fortunate though to extract from him his special cabbage side dish recipe—a Thanksgiving tradition in his family—which I’ve posted below.)

This being the season of Beaujolais Nouveau, we began our interview chatting about the first release of the new year from Burgundy, a fun French institution of sorts that Ronald recommends you drink with turkey or other fowl.  “It’s a wine that ferments very quickly, so everything explodes with flavor.  You have to drink it within the first few months,” he said.  “It’s a party.”

Ronald Holden

Ronald Holden

I suppose a lot of wine appreciation is about how you approach the nectar.  Ronald feels it’s unfortunate that most Americans are still drinking “Coca Cola flavors” such as Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot.   “The more adventuresome might go for Pinot Grigio, Pinot Noir, Syrah or Sauvignon Blanc,” Ronald said.  Instead he advocates selecting more international flavors such as wines from the regions of Emilio Romagna in northern Italy, Provence in southern France and Navarra in Spain.  For Provence, Ronald enjoys the various Côtes de Provence that come in a palette of pale pink shades.  “They’re wonderfully refreshing,” he said.  “They’re a far cry from the more heady rosés that I’d refer to as wines for tanning.  People would drink a lot of those wines, fall down in the sand and get sunburned.”

We wrapped up our interview with talk of other more affordable, super tasty wines.  “I’d recommend the wines of the southern Rhône and the Languedoc,” Ronald said, forever true to his apparent predilection toward French libations.  And what does he buy in his native Seattle?  “Right now I have a bottle of Red Beret on the kitchen counter.  It cost under $10. and it’s perfectly acceptable.  I also recommend Steakhouse Red and Fishhouse White, both from Washington state.”

Ronald is also the Global Gourmet for Examiner.com and the Director of Wine Tours for The International Kitchen.

I wish both Clotilde and Ronald and all you other foodies (as well as everyone else!) a Happy Thanksgiving.  May the spirit of the holiday and its sweet and savory flavors remain with you throughout the year.

 

Ronald’s Cabbage 

A side dish, not a salad. Make several days ahead.

Chop 1 medium onion, sauté in olive oil (or, if doing kosher-style, in goose fat). Before the onion browns, add 1 big head red cabbage, chopped & rinsed.  Don’t bother draining.

Once cabbage begins to wilt, add 1 cup red wine and 1/2 red wine vinegar, 1 tsp salt, a bay leaf, and, if desired, a ham hock and a peeled & chopped apple or pear.  Cover & simmer gently up to 2 hours, allow to cool.

Next day: stir in 1 cup red currant jelly.  Reheat to dissolve the jelly.  Taste & adjust seasonings.  You’re looking for a sweet-sour flavor. 

Allow to cool again. Reheat before serving.

 

Book Picks

“Chocolate and Zucchini,” by Clotilde Dusoulier

“Clotilde’s Edible Adventures in Paris,” also by Clotilde

 

Ronald’s Book Picks

“He Said Beer, She Said Wine,” by Sam Calagione and Marnie Old

“Wine Politics,” by Tyler Colman

“I’ll Drink to That:  Beaujolais and the French Peasant Who Made It the World’s Most Popular Wine,”  by Rudolph Chelminski.  This tells the story of Georges Duboeuf, the greatest marketer of French wine.

Gallery Going with the Ladies from Larchmont

I met my friend Jane fresh out of college when we worked at the Pucker Safrai art gallery together in Boston.  In addition to being incredibly smart, creative and witty, Jane’s always very up-to-the-minute with everything from the latest cooking utensil to this season’s hottest nail color.  (That happens to be Opi’s Moon over Mumbai—a sort of lavender grey—one of those small, yet necessary tidbits I learned when she teased me about my freshly applied ruby red, aptly named After Sex.  I thought that shade would be fun and fresh with my summer togs, but what’s a mountain girl to know anyway?)  So when Jane told me about a planned excursion to Neue Galerie, one of Manhattan’s more recent additions to the arts scene that showcases German and Austrian art, I jumped at the chance to go along.

Our outing was to include Jane’s friend, another very snappy gal from Larchmont, her mother-in-law and Jane’s daughter, a lovely young lady in her mid teens that I later discovered had clearly adopted her mother’s interest in the arts.  Both Jane and her friend looked particularly chic in stylish dresses that would have also worked well for a sophisticated garden party.  (Jane aptly dubbed her cream-colored linen shift very Frieda Callo.)  Standing there in my well cut jean bermudas and colorful, clingy top, I was almost sorry I hadn’t taken it up a notch.  Thank goodness I wore my beautiful, glass beads.

“You look very mountain-like, MB,” Jane observed without an ounce of snootiness.  She tossed me a purple pashmina.  “Here, that’s perfect.  Just the right touch of namasté.  You’ll need it for the museum.”

I had grown accustomed to a life without air conditioning in Colorado and was constantly amazed that the A.C. was cranked so high in other parts of the country.

We chatted excitedly the whole drive into the city.  I learned that women in Larchmont were very possessive about sharing their babysitters’ names and numbers, a seemingly disconcerting matter for Jane and her friend.

“That’s how it is with French women and their recipes,” I explained.  “Most only do a few signature dishes and they don’t like to share their recipes for fear that their spécialités might show up at someone else’s dinner party.”

We all scoffed at that.  “Yes, I was even convinced at one point that one of my former sisters-in-law would deliberately leave out an ingredient or two so that her recipe could not be duplicated.  I would make these cakes that would be total flops,” I trailed off.

Entrance to Galerie Neue

Entrance to Neue Galerie

We laughed and commiserated about about some of the more tedious aspects of life until we pulled up in front of a handsome mansion on the upper east side.  By now we were starved, so we decided to lunch first and look later.  Entering the Café Sabarsky at Neue Galerie was like stepping into  a fine dining room in Vienna.  Dark wood paneling, wooden floors, floral-covered velvet banquettes, little marble café tables and heavy draperies wrapped us in an Old World warmth that we soon realized was more important than ever with the A.C.-induced Arctic chill that blasted us as soon as we walked in the door.  We settled in and began to order coffees and lunch.

Café Sabarsky

The five of us almost hurried through our selections of goulash soup, smoked trout, Weiner Schnitzel and salads in anticipation of the desserts to follow.  (We had already scoped out gorgeous cakes and tortes on the long, marble sideboard on the other side of the room upon entering.)   A rich assortment of treats was later served up with more coffee and in my case, hot chocolate, the perfect accompaniment to an Apfelstrudel on a cold winter’s day.  (Instead of complaining any more about the frosty air, I decided to make it a good excuse for being extra decadent.)

Grand Staircase

Grand Staircase

Finally we were ready to stroll through the exhibition rooms.  We delighted separately, all together and sometimes one-on-one in viewing the many fine works on display here from original furnishings to superbly crafted jewelry.  I paused at great length in front of a glittering painting by Gustav Klimt.  Clearly some of the finest examples of Austrian-German creativity were prominently featured within this nearly six-year old museum.  Neue Galerie is a small gem whose jewel box-like interior is as alluring as the goods inside.  Our hearts had been warmed by all the beauty we took in within this elegant space; our bodies were glad to meet the hot summer air outside.

Neue Galerie New York, 1048 Fifth Avenue, 212-628-6200, www.neuegalerie.org

Café Sabarsky is open for breakfast, lunch and dinner (and for lots of tea, coffee and drinks in between) everyday but Wednesday; 212-288-0665.

6 Sep 2008, 4:18pm
French Life Girl Talk New York Restaurants Travel:
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Franco-American Girl Talk

I was to top off my time in the West Village with my dear friend Michèle, another single woman and une vraie franco-américaine, raised by a French mother and an American father.  Plus she has lived almost equal time in Paris and New York, so she clearly has a handle on both worlds.  For us to meet in New York was a particular treat since she had always been one of my friends from Paris.  I was relying upon her more and more for updates on la vie parisienne.

We tucked ourselves into the corner banquette at Alexandra, another one of the West Village’s charming little restaurants on Hudson Street.  After ordering salads, soupe à l’oignon gratinée and a couple of French Chardonnays, we jumped right in to one of our favorite subjects:  zee French.

“So how are the French doing these days?”  I asked.

“They’re still complaining a lot, but they do continue to enjoy a nice quality of life,” she replied.

“It sounds as though not much has changed since when I lived there.”

Our conversation soon shifted to French men, a far more interesting subject.

“I hope they’re still very charming and that they have remained as attentive as ever toward their women,” I said.

“French men do know how to flirt,” Michèle replied.  “But there’s often nothing behind it.”

“Flirting does make life more fun,” I added.  “I miss that about France.  I don’t think there’s enough flirting here in the U.S.   I always enjoy a titillating exchange.”

“Well I guess men on both sides of the Atlantic still know how to whip out the charm to seduce,” Michèle added.

I pondered this last comment for a while, replaying certain recent encounters in my head.  

“And do French men continue to maintain mistresses?”  I asked, changing the subject just enough so as not to delve headfirst into my own litany of love relationships.  At least not right away.  “People always ask me about that here in America.  I think that’s something that fascinates Americans about the French.”

“That is still more of a reality than a myth,” Michèle answered reflectively.  “I think it’s class specific.  It’s more open and accepted in the haute bourgeoisie.  Many French people live separate lives and are very frank about it.  I know a lot of people that do this.”

“I guess in America people go ahead and split up despite the financial and emotional consequences,” I ventured.  “In France, people live it out until they sort it out.”

We continued chatting about the differences between the French and Americans, a big frame of reference for us both.

“So what else is new?”

“You’ve heard the French are crazy about Carla Bruni, right?”  Michèle asked.

“Oh yes, I know.  I’m not that much out of the loop.”

Alexandra, After the Girls Were Gone

Alexandra, After the Girls Were Gone

 

Alexandra, 455 Hudson Street, 212-255-3838, www.nymag.com/listings/restaurant/alexandra

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