An American Masters Paris

Bouchon Beverly Hills
www.bouchonbistro.com

The French must tire of their tropes (see berets, baguettes). A trip to Paris reveals their cuisine has evolved beyond the bistro, with molecular gastronomy and multiculturalism shaking the house that Escoffier built. Perhaps it's nostalgia for summers and studies in Paris, but I still cling to the classics of French cuisine. I've got a bad case of Francophilia (she writes, sporting a marinière stripe romper).

While diversity abounds in L.A.'s dining scene, I yearn for more French-run bistros, like in my former stomping ground, NYC. We've got glimmers of it, with Cafe Stella and Maison Giraud, but on this Bastille Day, I'm craving Gallic goodness. Ironically, the Frenchiest fare in town comes from an American legend: Thomas Keller.

Like Julia Child, his Bouchon outpost in Beverly Hills has Mastered the Art of French Cooking  Sure, the interior feels more Paris, Las Vegas, than the City of Lights, but the menu--a who's who of bistro classics--is quintessentially French. Stunning seafood towers, steak frites, pâté de campagne and tarte au citron will whisk you across the Atlantic.

With exquisite food and impeccable service (GM Stephen Cook made it his mission to find us shade during a sunny, al fresco brunch), Bouchon is a lovely place to linger. Or, if you're in the mood for an afternoon nibble or a pain au chocolat, head downstairs to Bar Bouchon and Bouchon Bakery. Good things come in threes on Canon Ave.

Pain d'epi

Bouchon's bread is worth the trip alone. Here, they serve a wheat-stalked shaped pain d'epi, the crustier cousin to a baguette. Though in a fancy setting, the bread is set directly on the table familiarly,  encouraging you to tear off hunks for butter slathering. Make like a Français, and "saucer": mop up the last morsels on your plate with bits of bread. 

 Pâté de campagne

This thick slab of country-style pâté smacks of Paris. With traditional accompaniments--cornichons, Dijon, watercress--savor this porky pleasure. 

Laitue

J'adore the simplicity of a French salad. Bibb lettuce, fresh tarragon, parsley, chive and an uncomplicated dressing (Dijon, canola oil & red wine vinegar) create a palate cleanser perfect for our decadent meal.

Boudin noir

Lyon's legendary blood sausage, boudin noir, comes with silken, whipped potatoes and apples, bruléed to bring out their caramelized goodness. This wintry dish evokes après-ski in the Alps. 

Croque Madame

As comforting as grilled cheese with a wallop of French finery, this grilled brioche, ham, and cheese is topped with a hens egg and creamy Mornay sauce.  Breakfast for dinner? The croque is offered day-to-night, though this may be my new hangover cure. 

Quiche du jour

A masterful version of the 70's classic. This thick, deep-dish spinach and Gruyère quiche is miraculously dense and fluffy at the same time, thanks to the transcendent custard filling.

Chicken and Waffles

A sophisticated spin on Southern comfort. Instead of fried, the chicken is roasted with herbs and lemon and the waffles are bacon & chive. 'Tis the "gravy", a sauce Chausseur made from veal stock, bacon, and mushrooms, that drenches this dish in gourmet.

Tarte au citron

Grab a slice of this luscious lemon tart, which features a buttery, pine-nut crust and crunchy, bruléed top.

Bouchons

These eponymous chocolate minis (bouchon=cork) are a cross between a brownie and dense cake. Dunked in decadent, chocolate sauce alongside vanilla ice cream, they embody Keller's signature blend of the culinary and comfort. For all the bakers in the house, check out the recipe here

Bar Bouchon

www.bouchonbistro.com/bh-barbouchon

The casual cousin to the upstairs restaurant, Bar Bouchon offers a more intimate setting. Choose from the convivial, circular bar or the verdant terrace. With chalkboard menus, wicker chairs, and zinc tables spilling out onto the patio, the ambiance is très Parisien. 

Hobnob with the wealthy without dropping mad cash at Happy Hour, which features $4 beers and $5 glasses of wine, This summer, grab a seat outside to watch al fresco movies and concerts at Canon Gardens from the patio. 

The happy hour menu offers inexpensive, fancy-schmancy snacks like $5 deviled eggs and truffled popcorn. 

Foie de Volaille

 If I wasn't in public, I'd dip a spoon straight into this velvety, chicken liver mousse. With the toast soldiers, arranged Jenga-style, I can eat like a lady.  

Bouchon Bakery
www.bouchonbakery.com

I've contemplated moving to Beverly Hills...that's how good Bouchon Bakery is. Evoking a French boulangerie and patisserie, this jewel box of a shop showcases an exquisite array of baked goodness. Though open all day & night for your pastry pleasure, early birds will be sure to catch their choice of confections. 

On the left, don't miss the kouign-amann (aka Brittany butter cake) an orgasmic mix of caramelized sugar and buttery dough. Center, the classic croissant is equally flaky and fluffy. Move over Nabisco. The Better Nutter, a peanut butter sandwich cookie, elevates the childhood fave to epicurean heights. 

A Whole Lotta' Piggy In The Emerald City

There's something about Elizabeth Ray.

My sister noticed it first, observing how her brand-new daughter was, well, particularly porcine. Terms of endearment often take their cue from the animal kingdom; "Monkey" and "Bunny" are affectionate nicknames my friends dub their significant others. With babies, these pet names increase exponentially. Their newborn adorableness elicits even serious folk to coo "Lamb Chop" and "Chicken" in high-pitched sillyness.

In my niece's case, the piglet analogy was inevitable. Elizabeth's wee wardrobe is predominantly pink.  Swaddled tight, she resembles a piggy in a blanket or a pork burrito. When she nurses noisily, she's a suckling pig. With her newborn cold, her snores sound like little oinks. To use a, er, literary reference, dainty Elizabeth takes after Olivia, the pretty pig of children's book fame, who I discovered while honing my Auntie chops with my other lovely nieces, Isla & Syla.

In honor of this little piggy--and her aunt's penchant for pork--here are my porcine picks in her hometown, Seattle.

Jambon @ Bar Ferd'nand
www.ferdinandthebar.com
Capitol Hill

Alone, this buttery jambon is luscious. Blanketed on fresh-baked, Corson Building sourdough (slathered Spanish-style with tomato) and drizzled with olive oil, it's downright decadent. This is as sexy as ham gets--glistening and unfurled on this open-faced awesomeness. Paired with a chilled albariño or a tart cider, this is the happiest of hours at this gem of a bar.

Salumi sampler @ Bar Cotto
www.ethanstowellrestaurants.com/barcotto/
Capitol Hill

Ethan Stowell's latest addition to his epicurean empire is Bar Cotto, a salumeria featuring local and international cured meats. Make like a taste-tester and order a 3- or 5-sampler: ribbons of silky mortadella--Italy's refined cousin of our pedestrian lunchmeat, bologna, culatello--the tender, creamy,  "king of salami", speck--a smoked prosciutto, succulent house-made porchetta, and soppressata picante for a spice kick.

Opt for the traditional Parma accompaniment, torta fritta: fried bread pillows. Still hungry for more pig? Bar Cotto offers a rare, pizza topping: n'duja, a spreadable salami from SF's salumi sorcerers, Boccalone.  Imagine the heat of Mexican chorizo and the texture of French rillettes...and voila, n'duja!

Cured pork loin @ Agrodolce

www.agrodolcerestaurant.net

Fremont

The lighter side of pork is showcased at Maria Hines' Sicilian ristorante. Thinly-sliced lobes of house-cured pork loin, lonzino, are topped with crunchy, raw fennel, snipped chives, and chili oil made from sweet Aleppo peppers. Just in time for the warm weather, this delicate, lean, refreshing dish proves that pork need not be heavy.

Pâté albigeois @ Le Pichet

www.lepichetseattle.com

Belltown

At this oh-so-Parisian charmer, the country-style pâté is a marriage of two types of pig: ground pork and bacon. Served with classic accoutrements, cornichons and grainy mustard, each bite of this rustic, hefty pâté whisks you across the Atlantic. Thankfully, this traditional French pâté is served in an American-sized portion.

Porchetta @ Salumi

www.salumicuredmeats.com

Pioneer Square

At Armandino Batali's palace of pork, arrive early to snag their much-lauded, so-good-it-sells-out porchetta sandwich.This behemoth is stuffed with toasty, fragrant, fennel-spiced pork shoulder, meatballs, onions & peppers, and a garlic-caper spread. Juicy is an understatement--prepare to get messy with each dripping bite.  Don't be intimidated by the lines outside.

A bevy of cured meats are available for purchase, either whole or sliced onto delectable sandwiches. I'm partial to the finochiona (fennel) and piquant mole salami. Win over your out-of-town friends--Salumi can be shipped throughout the U.S. of A. 

A Manly Meal For A Birthday Girl

The Parish Downtown, LA 10.11.12
www.theparishla.com
eat: Deviled Eggs, Chicken Liver Toast, Pork Shoulder Poutine, Celery Root Mash, Sunchokes, Chicken Wings, Grilled Shrimp, Fried Chicken, Sticky Toffee Pudding
sip: Hubert & Blegér Crémant D'Alsace Rosé, Black Bee, Disco Nap, Amaro

Thank goodness for girlfriends.  Mine are especially rad with their simultaneous beauty, sass, and smarts, traits that could induce extreme envy, but instead keep me inspired.  Most of them enjoy eating (these aren't those "I'll just have a salad, hold the dressing" kind of gals), yet I'm admittedly the gourmandette:  the one who insists on ordering multiple desserts, who finishes everything on our shared plates, and who has a penchant for all things porcine.  Hence, my ladies let me pick the location for our monthly dinners.  For my birthday, I chose the Parish.

Considering my love for Tasting Kitchen, Chef Casey Lane's Italian-inspired gem in Venice, I had a hunch I'd dig The Parish, his new, Downtown gastropub.  As a foursome, I knew we'd be able to tackle a good chunk of the menu, which brims with comfort food -- fried chicken, poutine--with ethnic twists.   That night was our first rainy eve of the fall--perfect weather for feasting.  What followed was an unforgettable meal.  We ate like men, both in quantity and gusto, battling each other for each last morsel.

Located in a triangular building reminiscent of NYC's iconic Flatiron, the Parish feels decidedly urban.  Spacious windows and outdoor patios offer intimate views of street life and traffic .  The cosmopolitan vibe continues inside.  At the inviting bar, polished steel taps, gleaming glassware, and aproned bartenders beckon you to linger over drinks.  With vintage photographs, tawny wood floors, wallpapered walls, and a cozy candle-filled fireplace, the dining room has the familiar, masculine warmth of an English pub.

A Birthday Toast!

 "Too much of anything is bad but too much champagne is just right" - F. Scott Fitzgerald.  One of the many boozy quotes that decorate the drinks menu, this one was particularly pertinent thanks to the bottle of bubbly gifted by my good friend, Hollis. A burst of chilled strawberries, the Huber & Bléger Crémant D'Alsace Rosé was perfect for getting the party started. 

Black Bee

The manly and magical Black Bee is composed of house-barrel bourbon, stout, lemon, honey. Each ingredient compliments the other, with the stout giving it a welcome, bitter coffee zing.

Disco Nap

 Grappa--which our waitress aptly dubs "Italian Moonshine"-- is normally too heady for my taste.  But this libation, made with Prosecco grappa, Aperol (a bitter orange liquor), muddled lemon and a sprig of mint will change the way you think about the g-word.   A feminine drink with heft, like a woman in a Botticelli painting. 

Ladyface Red Rye and Eagle Rock Manifesto

 An abundance of SoCal brews on tap give the Parish local cred. Try Eagle Rock's Manifesto, a citrus-y, wheat beer, and Ladyface's Red Rye, a nice balance of bitter and hops.

Amaro Meletti

Warning: a seat at the bar can lead to impromptu tastings.  On my inaugural visit to The Parish, my amiga, Alyce, and I got an in-depth Amaro lesson thanks to Brian, our affable--and barely-legal looking--bartender.  The bitter digestivo varies depending on the producer: the Amaro Meletti has a unique, saffron spice while the Amaro Montenegro has hints of orange and clove. 

Deviled Eggs

It's hard to go wrong with this classic nibble. Here, they are emboldened by pickled chilis, giving them more kick than the usual dusting of paprika.

Chicken Liver Toast

Who needs foie-gras when chicken liver is this decadent? This macho pâté is intense and gamey, coarsely chopped, and garnished with thick bacon.   It's a tie with Mozza for L.A.'s leading liver. 

Pork Shoulder Poutine

This Québécoise has poutine in her DNA.  Like other iterations around town, cheese curds and gravy are given a gourmet makeover.  Cubes of homemade paneer and a porky, chili-scented sauce replace curds and gravy.  Succulent chunks of pork shoulder are the pièce de résistance.

Celery Root Mash

A crowd-favorite, this is more than the average mash.  Celery root is more complex than its tuber cousin. Topped with a naughty dollop of harissa butter, it's gluttonously good.

Grilled Sunchokes

As succulent and squishy as escargot, these sunchokes reign supreme.  They are delectably tossed with balsamic roasted shallots, watercress, and salsa verde.  

Grilled Shrimp

Morocco meets shrimp when served with cumin-roasted carrots, black olives, fried chickpeas, and mint yogurt.  This wood-fired goodness is a refreshingly different way to eat shrimp.  

Chicken Wings

 Using quality wings, not the stringy counterparts so oft served in bars, this haute rendition is beer-laquered, sticky sweet, finger-licking yum.

Fried Chicken

 The chicken is so juicy good that my gluten-free friend savors the bird even when disrobed of its mouthwatering skin.  Roasted brussels and braised greens balance out the fried.  Yet another terrific version of a culinary trend.

Sticky Toffee Pudding

 Due to an ordering error, our dessert is served simultaneously with our fried chicken.  A high-brow hybrid of a low-country classic, chicken and waffles, we get our savory with our sweet.  The moist, brown-sugary cake bathed in toffee sauce is too good for four girls to politely share. 

While the food indeed rocks, the friendly and skilled staff ensure an excellent time at the Parish.  Case in point: instead of sneers at my silly birthday tiara (thank you, Barndi), genuine well-wishes were said by all who passed our table.

FYI, the Parish just launched a morning menu (fresh-baked pastries and breakfast biscuit sammies) and Happy Hour with nibbles, discounted drinks, and communal punch.   Even more reasons to return as soon as possible!

Diner Avec Mon Père

I have my father to thank for many things--my smarts, my indefatigable work ethic, the simple pleasure of napping in the sun--yet there are two which are particularly poignant this Father's Day.

1. My enormous appetite, which is more akin to that of a sumo wrestler than a ballet dancer.  Thankfully, I'm blessed with my mother's speedy metabolism, so can chow down without dire, physical consequences.

2. My amour for all things French.  Thanks to my father's Québécois heritage, I was seduced by the romantic language at an early age.  Dad encouraged me to pursue my passion--for he had always struggled with learning French--and years followed with foreign exchanges, studying in Paris, and trips to Francophone countries. Now, I'm a full-fledged Francophile, as one may surmise from my blog's Frenchy name.

Last January, I accompanied Dad to Paris for a work trip, which wonderfully coincided with his birthday.  Since I'm the obsessive eater in the family, he let me curate our dining itinerary. I was left with the challenge of finding a spot to suit both of our needs; none of that nouvelle cuisine--with teeny portions, exotic foams, and exorbitant prices--would do. We needed a bistro with hearty fare to fill our ravenous stomachs yet not empty our wallets.  


While Bistrot Paul Bert had received abundant praise from bloggers and guides alike, it was the enthusiastic endorsement by Richard, a childhood friend's father who lives in Paris, that sealed the deal. A personal recommendation trumps all, especially when given by a man who used to make "Chocolate Decadence" cakes as a side business.   Located in the 11th arrondissement, Bistrot Paul Bert is packed with locals and tourists alike.  The vibe is friendly and convivial, partly thanks to tables so close together that you can't help but converse with fellow diners.  The 3-course prix fixe dinner, scrawled on an oh-so-French chalkboard, is a mere 34 euros.  How could we resist?

Terrine de Campagne Maison
Why does terrine always taste better in Paris? Made in house, this country terrine is remarkably rich thanks to generous nuggets of pork fat. The vinegary, pickled cauliflower and carrots are a lovely, acidic compliment.

Feuilleté de Sot l’y Laisse
When I queried our waiter to define "sot l'y laisse", he explained it was the part of chicken that "only a fool would leave".  Us Anglophones refer to it as the "oyster"--the tender morsel of dark meat on the back of a bird.  Stuffed with sautéed mushrooms and cream sauce in a buttery, flaky puff pastry, it is a gussied up version of Chicken Pot Pie.  I'd be a fool to not have ordered it...

Entrecôte de Boeuf
There's a reason why food blogs and guidebooks rave about Paul Bert's steak frites.  The rib-eye is charred crisp on the outside, rare inside, with an outer belt of juicy fat cinching the steak. The mouthwatering, fresh-cut frites are magnificent.  Note to first-timers: the French like their steak rarer than usYanks, so rare=saignant, medium rare=á point, medium=bien cuit.  

Carré d'Agneau
Not the dainty lamb chops I'm accustomed to, these thick cut, honking chops are well-suited for winter appetites.   They look so delicious that the woman at the next table changes her order to match mine.  The rare meat is rosy pink, enrobed in succulent fat, and served with delectable roast turnips, parsnips, and potatoes in thyme. 

Tarte Tatin

This French classic is essentially an upside-down apple-pie kicked up a notch thanks to the browned-in-butter apples. Blanketed in a salty caramel sauce and paired with cool, whipped cream, it is the best I've ever had in Paris and beyond.

Paris Brest
This frou frou, donut-esque dessert is made with flaky, choux pastry, filled with luscious hazelnut cream, and dusted with powdered sugar.  Though big enough for a party of 4, Dad and I polished it off, whooping with glee after each bite. 

I lost my father last September, so sadly this turned out to be our last trip together.  During this time of grieving, I'm heartened by memories of our travels together.  We shared shark fin soup in Kyoto, schnitzel in Zurich, and digestive biscuits in Oxford.  We'll always have Paris, Dad.  

Bistrot Paul Bert

18, rue Paul Bert

11e Paris 75011

01.43.72.24.01

Big Love To Steak

BLT Steak West Hollywood, CA 20 April 10
www.bltsteak.com
eat: Steak Sliders, Truffled Mac & Cheese, Popovers, Hanger Steak, Filet Mignon, Frites, Creamed Spinach, Jalepeno Mashed Potatoes
sip: Bourbon Sidecar, Dirty Grey Goose Martinis


Expectations have a profound effect on our experiences. When anticipations are high, the barometer of excellence is heightened as well. For instance, when a movie receives glowing reviews, I presume it is going to be a magnificent tour-de-force. After looking at an online photo of a potential suitor, I assume he'll be equally dashing in person. However, when these prospects fall short - the film is a flop, the date is a dud - the sting of disappointment is stronger than having had no hope at all. Conversely, when a situation has little promise, yet then exceeds my expectations, the outcome is surprising delight.

"Expect the worst. Hope for the best" This was the mantra that ran through my head the other night when I chose BLT Steak after my friends put me to the challenge of finding a "non-Mexican, close-to-home, non-frat boy, good food Happy Hour". To be frank, BLT Steak doesn't fit into my usual dining mold. It is located on the touristy Sunset Strip and it is part of a large, national restaurant conglomerate, BLT Restaurants, which in spite of it's high esteem, I have avoided due to my penchant for local, smaller establishments. However, I was intrigued by their 5 for $5 Happy Hour: a choice of 5 libations (red & white wine, beer, bubbly, cocktail) plus 5 yummy small plates each for a fiver.


As we enter the restaurant, the modern, sleek design feels corporate and cold, yet after a warm welcome by the hostess and bartender, we begin to feel more comfortable. The decor lends itself to a more civilized happy hour - one where you can eat and drink fabulously without breaking the bank. The seasonal cocktail is a Bourbon Sidecar, a twist on the original with Bourbon replacing Cognac as the main liquor. We nosh on Steak Sliders, aka mini Philly Cheesesteaks. They are a messy, yet tasty mound of thick chunks of steak, caramelized onions, and melted Gruyere. Sadly, the Fried Oysters with Pickled Cabbage are a disaster - dare I say that the oysters tasted dirty - but our palates are quickly saved by the divine Truffle Mac & Cheese with Bacon, a stellar, oozy version topped with a golden-brown, shredded Gruyere crust. Even the bar snacks, smoked almonds, paprika dusted-popcorn, and plump olives, are top-notch.


Turns out that happy hour is a mere taste of what BLT Steak has to offer. When I return two weeks later to watch a Lakers playoff game at the bar, my interest in BLT Steak blossoms into a full-blown crush. The romance begins when Andrew, our charming, attentive bartender, brings out an array of amuse-bouche goodies: a glass jar of chicken liver pâté, two grapefruit-size popovers, fresh butter, and sea salt (turns out this duo is a signature to all the BLT Steak restaurants). The intense, rust-hued pâté is wonderfully warm, iron-rich, and meaty which I prefer to other whipped versions. The popovers deserve to have their own post - heck, it's their photo, not the more apt picture of a steak, that I crowned atop this blog. They are a feat of baked wizardry; inflated orbs of airy, soft dough encased in a buttery crust that is reminiscent of Pillsbury Crescent Rolls (in a good way). Alone, the popovers are delectable. Slathered with butter and sprinkled with flakes of sea salt, they are simply naughty. Obviously, I'm not alone in my popover passion; a miniature recipe card is served with them to entice diners to recreate them at home.


In keeping true to traditional steakhouses, the steaks are served a la carte, letting the diner choose their sauces and sides. There is such love for the cow that on the back of the menu, a diagram depicts cuts of meat to the corresponding parts of the cow (i.e. round = backside) An educated eater is a happier eater, so I take a menu home to study my bovine anatomy. I opt for a Hanger Steak (a cut which hangs from the diaphragm) with horseradish sauce. It arrives in a venerable Staub cast iron pan adorned simply with roasted shallots. The steak is picture perfect: blackened on the outside and bloody red inside. This caramelized char is due to the super high temperature (1700 degrees!) at which the steak is broiled. It tastes even better than it looks; normally, I bring leftovers home from a steakhouse, but I devour every last bit of one of the best steaks I've ever had. Russel has the Filet Mignon, which is gorgeously teneder and plump.



In an effort to counteract the meatiness of the meal, we opt for two green sides. The first, Creamed Spinach is full of fresh spinach. I love how this version focuses on the spinach rather than the cream. Rather than have the greens drowning in a giant cream bath, it's as if the spinach has soaked up the cream and created a moist masterpiece. Next, Jalepeño Mashed Potatoes are a beautiful, yet unusual mint green (think Green Eggs and Ham). They are wonderfully whipped and buttery and the heat from the jalepeños adds a nice kick.



Andrew brings us Fries with Parmesan, Truffle Salt, and Lime Cilantro Aioli. One might think this could be a bad case of ingredient overkill, but somehow all the flavors harmonize deliciously. On their own, the double-fried fries would be stellar, but the extra accoutrements are a unique touch.


Next, Andrew brings us a surprise Molten Chocolate Cheesecake. Although we are stuffed, it is a sweet gesture that adds to the welcoming friendliness that has infused our meal. Essentially, the dessert is a gussied up sundae; the chocolate ice-cream like cake is drizzled with dark, melted chocolate and a dollop of vanilla ice cream rests on top. It's an appropriate end to our "haute comfort" meal.


Turns out BLT Steak IS my kind of restaurant. It can be what you want it to be: a celebratory dinner, an intimate bar meal, high-end bites for game viewing, or a refined happy hour. I have learned my lesson. Don't judge a book by it's cover. Don't stereotype. Don't assume. It's funny, looking through my old magazines, I realized that BLT Steak was listed as one of L.A. Magazine's 10 Best New Restaurants in 2009, but I must have ignored their listing due to my snooty aversion to anything non-local. Eat that piece of humble pie...you might like what you taste.

Deal Alert: Besides the great 5 for $5 Happy Hour, there is a nightly 3-course $50 Blackboard Menu which veers from the traditional steak menu and features seasonal fare.