The first issue of Paris-based Desserts Magazine is devoted to the wondrous macaron. Not to be confused with the leaden coconut macaroon, this delectable filled cookie is found all over Paris in a variety of flavors.
People travel all over the world to sample Laduree's macarons (various locations), which are offered in a rainbow of 13 permanent and 6 seasonal flavors. The salted butter caramel is an intense taste sensation, and the chocolate amer melts in one's mouth. A box of six or eight makes a delightful gift (I know, because my recipients were absolutely delighted)!
Chocophiles will be enamored of the macarons of chocolatier Jean Paul-Hevin (various locations). He features unique chocolate combinations like chocolate-passionfruit, chocolate-pistachio and chocolate-tarragon. Chocolate-cardamom macarons are included in the gift boxes near the entrance of La Grande Epicerie du Bon Marche (38, Rue Sèvres, Paris - +33 (01) 42-22-10-12).
Those who crave something more exotic will appreciate the the brightly colored macarons of Sadaharu Aoki (various locations). In addition to offering traditional French flavors, Aoki also serves up matcha, ume plum, hojicha, and black sesame macarons.
(Note: Dessert Magazine includes recipes for Aoki's matcha macaron and Hevin's chocolate macaron. If you can't find a copy, just E-mail me!)
Monday, August 10, 2009
Sunday, August 09, 2009
Japanese Chefs in Paris
Although it's very difficult to find good Japanese food in Paris, Japanese chefs are turning out stellar French food in the city. Tateru Yoshino is the chef at the vaunted Stella Maris (4 rue Arsène-Houssaye, +33 (01) 42-89-16-22), and I just had a delightful lunch at Chef Hide Kobayashi's eponymous Le Hide (10 rue du General Lanzerac, +33 (01) 45-74-15-81). The "menu a midi," which includes appetizer, main course and dessert, was only 26 euros, and featured such dishes as a tartine of escargots appetizer, steak prepared with sel de Guerande for a main, and desserts like chocolate millefeuille and orange creme brulee. I chose a layered shrimp salad with shredded endives and a kicky avocado vinaigrette for an appetizer; the shrimps were plentiful, plump and sweet. Next were a couple of sturdy monkfish medallions on a bed of penne in a light, parsleyed cream sauce; a crisp potato gaufrette lay atop the hearty fish, adding some nice texture. My dessert, the Mont-Blanc (often found at Japanese pastry shops) was another study in layers of flavor. Buttery pound cake was the base for a dense chestnut mousse, which was balanced by a sweet, light homemade vanilla ice cream scoop on top.
After all of this, another dessert may have been a strange objective, but I set about finding Sadaharu Aoki's patisseries. I ended up at the northwestern outskirts of Paris before giving up on that particular location, then took the metro all the way to the Les Gobelins stop. Finally, success! Jars of green-tea milk jam, a paintbox of beautiful macarons in traditional and Japanese flavors (matcha, black sesame, even ume), and scrumptious eclairs greeted me. The neon-green matcha eclair was amazing - the cream oozing out of the rich pastry was mild and sweet, but with an unforgettable herbal aftertaste. The next day, still thinking about that unique taste, I trekked over to the gourmet cave at Galeries Lafayette - but that location was all out of eclairs.
After all of this, another dessert may have been a strange objective, but I set about finding Sadaharu Aoki's patisseries. I ended up at the northwestern outskirts of Paris before giving up on that particular location, then took the metro all the way to the Les Gobelins stop. Finally, success! Jars of green-tea milk jam, a paintbox of beautiful macarons in traditional and Japanese flavors (matcha, black sesame, even ume), and scrumptious eclairs greeted me. The neon-green matcha eclair was amazing - the cream oozing out of the rich pastry was mild and sweet, but with an unforgettable herbal aftertaste. The next day, still thinking about that unique taste, I trekked over to the gourmet cave at Galeries Lafayette - but that location was all out of eclairs.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Je Me Souviens - Le Chocolat
Locally produced ingredients make Quebec City a fascinating place to eat chocolate. Wild blueberries, honey, and maple syrup (of course) find their way into many of the city's confections.
At Praline & Chocolat, one of the food kiosks in the endless Marché du Vieux-Port (7874 Av. Royale, 418-978-0528), you'll find chocolates made with honey from the Musee de L'Abeille (Bee Museum)., which is a short trip outside the city. (The kiosk also sells lovely pastries and dark-chocolate-bottomed meringues.)
Les Délices de l’Érable, or Maple Delights (1044, rue St-Jean, 418-692-3245) serves up treats like maple brownies and chocolate royale maple mousse. Customers are allowed to taste and compare all the different bottled maple syrups. The ubiquitous syrup, which was originally discovered by the Algonquins, also turns up in the chocolate-maple bars at Cupidon Chocolatier (Chateau Frontenac Hotel Shops, 1 des Carrieres, 418-692-3340). Cupidon also sells wild blueberry chocolate bars.
No chocoholic's trip to Quebec City is complete without a trip to the Choco-Musée Érico. This delightful boutique is home to a small museum where you'll learn lots of chocolate trivia (did you know that early chocolate apprentices were required to carve their own molds?). At the adjacent store, order a warm chocolate-chip cookie, some chocolat chaud, and truffles made with pure maple butter or Quebec apple ice wine.
Finally, if you're interested in what Québécois pastry chefs can do with chocolate, make sure to visit the highly regarded Le Saint-Amour restaurant (48 rue Sainte-Ursule, 418-694-0667). The Distinction dessert, which features six delectable mini-creations (including dark chocolate creme brulee), will bring your vacation to a sufficiently chocolaty close.
At Praline & Chocolat, one of the food kiosks in the endless Marché du Vieux-Port (7874 Av. Royale, 418-978-0528), you'll find chocolates made with honey from the Musee de L'Abeille (Bee Museum)., which is a short trip outside the city. (The kiosk also sells lovely pastries and dark-chocolate-bottomed meringues.)
Les Délices de l’Érable, or Maple Delights (1044, rue St-Jean, 418-692-3245) serves up treats like maple brownies and chocolate royale maple mousse. Customers are allowed to taste and compare all the different bottled maple syrups. The ubiquitous syrup, which was originally discovered by the Algonquins, also turns up in the chocolate-maple bars at Cupidon Chocolatier (Chateau Frontenac Hotel Shops, 1 des Carrieres, 418-692-3340). Cupidon also sells wild blueberry chocolate bars.
No chocoholic's trip to Quebec City is complete without a trip to the Choco-Musée Érico. This delightful boutique is home to a small museum where you'll learn lots of chocolate trivia (did you know that early chocolate apprentices were required to carve their own molds?). At the adjacent store, order a warm chocolate-chip cookie, some chocolat chaud, and truffles made with pure maple butter or Quebec apple ice wine.
Finally, if you're interested in what Québécois pastry chefs can do with chocolate, make sure to visit the highly regarded Le Saint-Amour restaurant (48 rue Sainte-Ursule, 418-694-0667). The Distinction dessert, which features six delectable mini-creations (including dark chocolate creme brulee), will bring your vacation to a sufficiently chocolaty close.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Turin: The Most Chocolatey Town In The World?
You may have heard of Paris's Museum Pass, which allows you to access various museums and monuments in the city. And you're probably aware of the "Metropass," a monthly subway fare card which exists in many places around the world. But do you know about Turin, Italy's ChocoPass?
This very special 3-day pass entitles the purchaser to enjoy hot chocolate, chocolate cake, gelato, cookies, chocolate-hazelnut candies and pralines at 38 sweets shops around Turin. Best of all, the pass costs only 15 euros! Among the participants are Guido Gobino (via LaGrange 1, +39 011 566 07 07), a chocolatier who makes some of the finest chocolate-hazelnut confections in the world, and the famous cafe Al Bicerin (Piazza della Consolata 5, +39 011 43 69 325), which serves a hot drink consisting of three distinct layers of dark chocolate, coffee, and steamed milk. You can also order a cake made with the same ingredients... and don't forget to ask for whipped cream!
This very special 3-day pass entitles the purchaser to enjoy hot chocolate, chocolate cake, gelato, cookies, chocolate-hazelnut candies and pralines at 38 sweets shops around Turin. Best of all, the pass costs only 15 euros! Among the participants are Guido Gobino (via LaGrange 1, +39 011 566 07 07), a chocolatier who makes some of the finest chocolate-hazelnut confections in the world, and the famous cafe Al Bicerin (Piazza della Consolata 5, +39 011 43 69 325), which serves a hot drink consisting of three distinct layers of dark chocolate, coffee, and steamed milk. You can also order a cake made with the same ingredients... and don't forget to ask for whipped cream!
Monday, January 28, 2008
A Day In Victoria
I had never seen a make-your-own Belgian waffle station until I stayed at the Magnolia Hotel & Spa (623 Courtney St., (250) 381-0999) in Victoria, BC. When my companion and I walked in for the complimentary breakfast, there was a push-button batter-dispensing machine next to a large waffle iron. Various syrups, fruits and a big container of whipped cream were at hand to increase the temptation! (If the prospect of all-you-can-eat Belgian waffles leads you to make a reservation at this nice little hotel, please be advised that there's a very noisy bar next to it. Ask for a room on the opposite side.)
After breakfast, I went exploring on my own. As I wasn't yet hungry, I looked for indulgences of a different sort. First, I stopped in at Free Spirit Botanicals (549 Johnson St., 250-382-1003) to check out the chocolate-mint lip balm, chocolate raspberry candles and vanilla tea. The company does a brisk mail-order business, as their natural products have fans all over the United States.
Now, I wanted to find a place where I could sit down, sip some coffee and study my map of Victoria. I ended up at Habit (552 Pandora Ave., 250-294-1127), a very Manhattanish cafe. A great selection of magazines covers one wall, there are comfy couches in the back, and a blackboard near the entrance announces local music events. But most important, the coffee is terrific! If you're an Ethiopian Yirgacheffe fan, this is your spot.
My next destination was the aromatic Silk Road (1624 Government St., 250-704-2688) home of the "essential oil bar," beautiful ceramics, a spa, cast iron teapots and a tea-tasting bar! When I entered, a lovely young woman offered me some lychee black tea, saying it was good for the circulatory system.
I turned my attention to the essential oil bar, where I sniffed neroli and pine needles to my heart's content and learned about which aromas should be mixed together. I was inspired to purchase a metal oil warmer and a vial of lavender oil. (Now if only they could bottle that Victorian peace of mind so I could bring it back to New York!)
The adjacent room was full of rooibos, green, white, black and pu-erh tea. Big tea blossoms bloomed inside glass teapots. I wish I was going to be in Victoria during the Chinese New Year, because Silk Road will be hosting an Asian Tea & Food Pairing on February 8 to celebrate. Oh well. Looks like I'll be doing a lot of Internet shopping this year!
Now that my wrists were nicely lavendered and my lips were chocolate-minted, it was finally time to seek out some grub. I trekked over the bridge to Spinnakers Gastro Brewpub (308 Catherine St., 1-877-838-2739), where I was to enjoy one of the best meals of my whole vacation (and a lovely waterfront view). The rustic brewpub, which was established in 1984, takes pride in fresh, high-quality ingredients, which are sourced from local farms and fisheries. Incidentally, Spinnakers was voted Best Brewpub in B.C. by the readers of Northwest Brewing News.
Before being led to my table, I admired the display of handmade truffles made with Guittard chocolate. There were some wild flavors like tequila-lime-salt.
Now I was really hungry. I wondered, should I order the beef pot pie with root vegetables tossed in butter? Or the apple BBQ pork baguette with mustard seed aioli? I decided to start with a bowl of the "West Coast style" seafood chowder. I was intrigued as to what this might be, since I was only familiar with the Manhattan and New England varieties.
Instead of being cream or tomato-based, this amazing thick chowder packed lots of potatoes, as well as white wine, butter, clams, salmon, onions and a bit of dill... I could have eaten another bowl! I sopped up the last bites with a slice of homemade white bread.
Then it was fish and chips time. (My original plan had been to try this dish at the famed Barb's Place, but the season doesn't start until March.) I had a choice of wild Pacific salmon or B.C. halibut, and I went with the latter. A puffy browned hunk of battered fish, looking very much like a loaf of bread, was sprinkled with a mixture of ground peppercorns and sea salt. It lay atop a large portion of Kennebec fries. (The server also brought by a bottle of the house-brewed malt vinegar!) With a fork, I cut into the crispy covering; inside was a halibut fillet as moist as if it had been poached. The beery aroma of the batter was intoxicating; I can honestly say that I've never eaten better fish and chips.
Unfortunately, I was much too full for a beer ice cream float or a chocolate-and-beer tasting! But I was well fortified for my walk back to the Magnolia Hotel.
After breakfast, I went exploring on my own. As I wasn't yet hungry, I looked for indulgences of a different sort. First, I stopped in at Free Spirit Botanicals (549 Johnson St., 250-382-1003) to check out the chocolate-mint lip balm, chocolate raspberry candles and vanilla tea. The company does a brisk mail-order business, as their natural products have fans all over the United States.
Now, I wanted to find a place where I could sit down, sip some coffee and study my map of Victoria. I ended up at Habit (552 Pandora Ave., 250-294-1127), a very Manhattanish cafe. A great selection of magazines covers one wall, there are comfy couches in the back, and a blackboard near the entrance announces local music events. But most important, the coffee is terrific! If you're an Ethiopian Yirgacheffe fan, this is your spot.
My next destination was the aromatic Silk Road (1624 Government St., 250-704-2688) home of the "essential oil bar," beautiful ceramics, a spa, cast iron teapots and a tea-tasting bar! When I entered, a lovely young woman offered me some lychee black tea, saying it was good for the circulatory system.
I turned my attention to the essential oil bar, where I sniffed neroli and pine needles to my heart's content and learned about which aromas should be mixed together. I was inspired to purchase a metal oil warmer and a vial of lavender oil. (Now if only they could bottle that Victorian peace of mind so I could bring it back to New York!)
The adjacent room was full of rooibos, green, white, black and pu-erh tea. Big tea blossoms bloomed inside glass teapots. I wish I was going to be in Victoria during the Chinese New Year, because Silk Road will be hosting an Asian Tea & Food Pairing on February 8 to celebrate. Oh well. Looks like I'll be doing a lot of Internet shopping this year!
Now that my wrists were nicely lavendered and my lips were chocolate-minted, it was finally time to seek out some grub. I trekked over the bridge to Spinnakers Gastro Brewpub (308 Catherine St., 1-877-838-2739), where I was to enjoy one of the best meals of my whole vacation (and a lovely waterfront view). The rustic brewpub, which was established in 1984, takes pride in fresh, high-quality ingredients, which are sourced from local farms and fisheries. Incidentally, Spinnakers was voted Best Brewpub in B.C. by the readers of Northwest Brewing News.
Before being led to my table, I admired the display of handmade truffles made with Guittard chocolate. There were some wild flavors like tequila-lime-salt.
Now I was really hungry. I wondered, should I order the beef pot pie with root vegetables tossed in butter? Or the apple BBQ pork baguette with mustard seed aioli? I decided to start with a bowl of the "West Coast style" seafood chowder. I was intrigued as to what this might be, since I was only familiar with the Manhattan and New England varieties.
Instead of being cream or tomato-based, this amazing thick chowder packed lots of potatoes, as well as white wine, butter, clams, salmon, onions and a bit of dill... I could have eaten another bowl! I sopped up the last bites with a slice of homemade white bread.
Then it was fish and chips time. (My original plan had been to try this dish at the famed Barb's Place, but the season doesn't start until March.) I had a choice of wild Pacific salmon or B.C. halibut, and I went with the latter. A puffy browned hunk of battered fish, looking very much like a loaf of bread, was sprinkled with a mixture of ground peppercorns and sea salt. It lay atop a large portion of Kennebec fries. (The server also brought by a bottle of the house-brewed malt vinegar!) With a fork, I cut into the crispy covering; inside was a halibut fillet as moist as if it had been poached. The beery aroma of the batter was intoxicating; I can honestly say that I've never eaten better fish and chips.
Unfortunately, I was much too full for a beer ice cream float or a chocolate-and-beer tasting! But I was well fortified for my walk back to the Magnolia Hotel.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Koko Chocolate Creations
I spent all afternoon searching for the Frommer's-recommended Death By Chocolate. I went to Broad Street. I went to West Pender Street. Finally, I called another location to hear the sad news: "All of our downtown locations have closed." (From now on, I will not blindly trust those Google search results!)
So, I made my way over to Denman Street, where True Confections resides. This dessert cafe serves cakes so large that I'm actually frightened by them. They had a guava cheesecake, but I really longed for an all-chocolate environment. I walked a bit further south until I found exactly what I was looking for: Koko Chocolate Creations, which opened up just two weeks ago.
I breathed in the heady chocolate aroma, retrieved a pen and set about scribbling some notes. Unfortunately, this aroused the suspicions of the owners, who asked to see my press credentials. As I am just a humble blogger, and am on vacation, I did not have any business cards on me. But I still managed to get some good chocolate-sampling in and had a lovely time, and I am now going to impart the following information to you in case you are in downtown Vancouver and miss Death By Chocolate.
If you're just craving a bit of chocolate, go for the "Chocolate By The Shot": a couple sips worth of delicious dark, white or hot chocolate (all chocolate is of Belgian origin). Also to drink are more styles of hot chocolate than I can remember... Turkish with cardamom, Canadian with maple syrup, whipped cream and pecans, and Mexican with nutmeg and chili. Oh, and Scandinavian with caramel toffee... and that's just to drink! To eat, there are chocolate pizzas, fondue, explosive molten chocolate cake, smores, mudslides, cookies, chocolate peanut butter mousse... and then there are boxed chocolates in exotic flavors like coconut curry and peach ginger. Enjoy!
Koko Chocolate Creations: 1118 Denman Street, Vancouver, (604) 669-1887.
So, I made my way over to Denman Street, where True Confections resides. This dessert cafe serves cakes so large that I'm actually frightened by them. They had a guava cheesecake, but I really longed for an all-chocolate environment. I walked a bit further south until I found exactly what I was looking for: Koko Chocolate Creations, which opened up just two weeks ago.
I breathed in the heady chocolate aroma, retrieved a pen and set about scribbling some notes. Unfortunately, this aroused the suspicions of the owners, who asked to see my press credentials. As I am just a humble blogger, and am on vacation, I did not have any business cards on me. But I still managed to get some good chocolate-sampling in and had a lovely time, and I am now going to impart the following information to you in case you are in downtown Vancouver and miss Death By Chocolate.
If you're just craving a bit of chocolate, go for the "Chocolate By The Shot": a couple sips worth of delicious dark, white or hot chocolate (all chocolate is of Belgian origin). Also to drink are more styles of hot chocolate than I can remember... Turkish with cardamom, Canadian with maple syrup, whipped cream and pecans, and Mexican with nutmeg and chili. Oh, and Scandinavian with caramel toffee... and that's just to drink! To eat, there are chocolate pizzas, fondue, explosive molten chocolate cake, smores, mudslides, cookies, chocolate peanut butter mousse... and then there are boxed chocolates in exotic flavors like coconut curry and peach ginger. Enjoy!
Koko Chocolate Creations: 1118 Denman Street, Vancouver, (604) 669-1887.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Fromage!
In a recent France Guide interview, renowned chocolatier Jacques Torres pined for French raw milk cheeses: "They are really exceptional. It’s something that we don’t have in the United States, because we don’t have the right to import them, and it’s really too bad, because it’s another world — it’s something to discover in France."
But according to the New York Times, the rich heritage of raw milk cheese production is also in danger in France. Large companies are pressuring small producers into pasteurization, which changes the character of cheese. Fortunately, some farmers and cheese shops like Fromagerie Quatrehomme (62, rue de Sèvres, 75007, +33 01 4734-3345) are fighting back against the corporate juggernaut.
I wanted to help support their cause, so I decided to consume as much raw milk cheese as possible during my stay in Paris. First, I visited the beautiful Quatrehomme and immediately fell in love. Upon walking in, I caught sight of a book cataloguing 1200 kinds of cheese (I didn't know there were 1200 kinds of cheese!). I then proceeded to the display of round chevres, Bries and other goodies. Completely overwhelmed, I just started choosing cheeses at random. Raw milk Brie de Melun? Check. Tangy herbed chevre? Check. A tin of soft, creamy St. Felicitien? Check. Rounds of a young goat milk cheese called Rocamadour, which I would eventually devour whole like cookies? Check!
Then, I made sure to visit the Poilane bakery in order to have some world-famous sourdough to eat with my cheese (by the way, Poilane ships overseas!). I carried my loot back to the hotel, where I calmly and methodically devoured cheese, then slices of sourdough, then more cheese as my companion looked at me with amazement.
Towards the end of my stay, it dawned on me that I should bring a delicious taste of France back to New York. Although I wasn't worried about packing my suitcase with Poilane, I wondered about the logistics of traveling with cheese. And was it even legal?
Fortunately, the lovely woman at La Fromagerie (8, rue de Petits Carreaux, +33 01 4233-0407) had a solution: vacuum-packing. (For no additional charge, she makes your purchases absolutely travel-proof! And what's even better, you can try before you buy.) She helped me choose a breathtaking Comte (mmm!), a Tonnelet... together we chose an assortment of hard, soft, creamy, goat, cow, and sheep's milk cheese until I had a wonderful little package to put inside my suitcase. Now it's safe and sound in my refrigerator! Shhh...
But according to the New York Times, the rich heritage of raw milk cheese production is also in danger in France. Large companies are pressuring small producers into pasteurization, which changes the character of cheese. Fortunately, some farmers and cheese shops like Fromagerie Quatrehomme (62, rue de Sèvres, 75007, +33 01 4734-3345) are fighting back against the corporate juggernaut.
I wanted to help support their cause, so I decided to consume as much raw milk cheese as possible during my stay in Paris. First, I visited the beautiful Quatrehomme and immediately fell in love. Upon walking in, I caught sight of a book cataloguing 1200 kinds of cheese (I didn't know there were 1200 kinds of cheese!). I then proceeded to the display of round chevres, Bries and other goodies. Completely overwhelmed, I just started choosing cheeses at random. Raw milk Brie de Melun? Check. Tangy herbed chevre? Check. A tin of soft, creamy St. Felicitien? Check. Rounds of a young goat milk cheese called Rocamadour, which I would eventually devour whole like cookies? Check!
Then, I made sure to visit the Poilane bakery in order to have some world-famous sourdough to eat with my cheese (by the way, Poilane ships overseas!). I carried my loot back to the hotel, where I calmly and methodically devoured cheese, then slices of sourdough, then more cheese as my companion looked at me with amazement.
Towards the end of my stay, it dawned on me that I should bring a delicious taste of France back to New York. Although I wasn't worried about packing my suitcase with Poilane, I wondered about the logistics of traveling with cheese. And was it even legal?
Fortunately, the lovely woman at La Fromagerie (8, rue de Petits Carreaux, +33 01 4233-0407) had a solution: vacuum-packing. (For no additional charge, she makes your purchases absolutely travel-proof! And what's even better, you can try before you buy.) She helped me choose a breathtaking Comte (mmm!), a Tonnelet... together we chose an assortment of hard, soft, creamy, goat, cow, and sheep's milk cheese until I had a wonderful little package to put inside my suitcase. Now it's safe and sound in my refrigerator! Shhh...
Saturday, July 28, 2007
A Chocolate Lover's Mini-Tour of Paris
If you've only got one day in Paris, and you want to make it as chocolatey as possible, here are my recommendations. (This is an approximation of what I did one day; other days were devoted to cheese, bread, and pastries, with a slight nod to sightseeing!)
- Start the day off with a thick, syrupy chocolat a l'africain at the famed Chez Angelina (226, rue de Rivoli, +33 01 4260-8200). (Apparently Coco Chanel frequented this place; is that where she got her name?) They'll give you a flask of unsweetened whipped cream to stir in - personally, I preferred the pure rich chocolate on its own.
- Make your way over to the marvelous Jean-Paul Hevin store (closest location: 231, rue Saint-Honore, +33 01 5535-3596). I don't think it's an accident that this chocolatier's last name is suspiciously close to the word "heaven." But how unjust is it that his amazing chocolate macarons are only available in France and Japan? (The Website warns: "Macaroons are fragile. It is not possible to send them.") There were so many flavors: chocolate praline, chocolate raspberry, chocolate bergamot... dear me, I just about lost my mind. I bought two boxes of macarons and some of the "palets du palais": fine rounds of dark, milk and caramel chocolate. Hevin help me!
- Now it's time to walk over the bridge to the other side of the Seine to explore the 7th arrondissement. (Unfortunately, this is not enough of a walk to really burn many calories, if you were worried about that. But if you're reading this, I imagine you're about as worried as I am, which is not at all!) At Jean-Charles Rochoux (16, rue d’Assas, +33 01 4284-2945) you'll find chocolates sculpted into all sorts of fanciful and imaginative shapes; I saw an extremely true-to-life milk chocolate male chest!
- Next, check out the chocolate marvels of Christian Constant (closest location: 37, rue d'Assas, +33 01 5363-1515), an eponymous chocolate and pastry shop owned by a chef who also has three restaurants including the noted Cafe Constant. His fruit confits are lovely as well, but why don't you purchase one of his chocolate collections with selected flowers, fruits, aromas and spices? Roses with Corinthian raisins, Yemen jasmine with green tea, pine nuts with honey, Malabar cardamom, Sicilian mandarin... can you bear it!!!
- Now, to end your tour, I'm going to give you a choice. You can try one of the 20 best chocolate eclairs in Paris (in March, Le Figaro put out their list, which you can find in the archives) at Stohrer (51, rue Montorgueil, +33 01 4233-3820), a bakery founded in 1730. (I swooned over the chocolate-iced, chocolate-filled eclairs, as well as the salted-butter caramels and marrons glaces.) Or you can enjoy the best chocolate crepe ever at La Crepe Dentelle (10, rue Leopold Bellan, +33 01 4041-0423). It's up to you!
Monday, December 11, 2006
Sushi Kyubei - The Finest Sushi I've Ever Eaten
Today was a day of firsts: the first time I saw such a long line of people waiting for a restaurant to open; the first time I saw someone cut in such a line, and the first time that I almost cried tears of joy due to sushi.
Kyubei is a 17-year-old, 5-floor establishment which is famous for some of the best sushi in Tokyo (and hence the world). I had a bit of trouble finding the restaurant, due to the strange numbered-block address system in Tokyo. But once I saw a frantic bunch of people loading fish from a truck around 11 a.m., I had a feeling I was in the right place.
I was around #25 in line. The waitress helpfully assigned me to the second floor, where Kane, an English-speaking sushi chef, was to prepare my meal. I walked into the gold-and-bamboo room and tried to squish my ever-increasing frame (have you read the last few days of this blog!) onto a zabuton pillow. Soon, a lively bunch of elderly ladies sat next to me. A beautiful woman in a rose-colored kimono poured me a mug of green tea.
Three industrious sushi chefs stood against a backdrop of a large flower arrangement in a rustic stone vase. Kane was the one in the middle. As he expertly julienned a cucumber with a scary-looking knife, he asked me if there was anything I didn't like. I told him I'd eat everything, and that I was especially fond of salmon roe and sea urchin.
Kane recommended the 10-piece omakase for me, but I did him one better, asking for the 11-piece. (I was later to find that I'd made a mistake, as for the first time during my stay in Tokyo, I was actually unable to finish a meal.)
He deposited a little bowl of yuzu-laced salmon roe in front of me. They were perfect little orange bubbles, not compromised by too much salt or sugar.
Kane also let me try a piece of a watermelon pickle he was slicing, and then he gave me a bowl of shredded daikon and wakame seaweed.
It was time for sushi - a carnival of crunchy, melty and chewy fish. This sushi would be served a piece at a time, dipped in a bowl of soy sauce and eaten by hand. First was a rosy piece of medium fatty tuna. The tuna melted in my mouth and the rice was slightly warm. Next came glistening, translucent fluke, with a bed of bright green chives between the fish and the rice.
Sea-salt-sprinkled squid was next. I was really delighted by the use of salt, chives, ginger and garlic to highlight the particular deliciousness of each fish.
Kane, remembering that I loved sea urchin, piled the sweet, creamy orange uni atop some rice, dabbed it with some soy sauce, and wrapped up the little present with a strip of crisp, dark nori seaweed.
Next was a bowl of sweet white miso soup in which floated the tiniest clams. While I sucked the shells, I noticed a few brown, mottled creatures with rainbow-colored tails wriggling around on a bamboo tray. Upon closer inspection they appeared to be shrimp. I wondered if we would be eating live shrimp. (On a related note, a friend told me that a particular delicacy at a Fukuoka restaurant is a glass of water with tiny swimming fish.)
These shrimp were indeed for me and the women next to me, although they would not be alive by the time we ate them! The flesh was gelatinous and sweet. We were told not to eat them without soy.
Striped shima-aji was next, drizzled with a bit of sudachi (Japanese lime). In contrast to some of the more gelatinous, creamy or melty fish from before, this fish was chewy.
A crunchy cooked head-on shrimp was next - I couldn't bring myself to eat the head and eyes, but the people next to me did so happily. (I guess it's a block I have.)
Next I enjoyed a piece of akagai (red shellfish) and a piece of shockingly good fatty tuna. Then, Kane asked if I liked garlic. (Of course!) He sprinkled some onto a piece of bonito.
Cool round daikon pickles were next. I wondered if the end of the meal had arrived.
Nope. Along came a meditation on the delicious eel: two charred, almost nutty portions of the fish arrived, one sweetened and one salted. "Oishii!" exclaimed the women next to me. I heartily agreed.
I'd never eaten what came next: daikon sandwiches with a filling of sour plum puree and licoricey shiso leaf. I was starting to become alarmingly full. Six pieces of maki arrived: tuna, kampyo gourd and akagai. And then there was a plate of steaming egg triangles. There was simply no room left in my stomach. "O naka ga ippai! Doozo," I said, motioning to the elderly women that they could have the sushi I wouldn't be able to eat. They laughed and obliged. There was no way something so amazing should go to waste.
I tried to take a bite out of the dessert pears, and had to give up in earnest. Next time I'll listen to Kane!
Sushi Kyubei Ginza: Ginza 8-7-6, +81 (03) 3571-6523, Tokyo.
Kyubei is a 17-year-old, 5-floor establishment which is famous for some of the best sushi in Tokyo (and hence the world). I had a bit of trouble finding the restaurant, due to the strange numbered-block address system in Tokyo. But once I saw a frantic bunch of people loading fish from a truck around 11 a.m., I had a feeling I was in the right place.
I was around #25 in line. The waitress helpfully assigned me to the second floor, where Kane, an English-speaking sushi chef, was to prepare my meal. I walked into the gold-and-bamboo room and tried to squish my ever-increasing frame (have you read the last few days of this blog!) onto a zabuton pillow. Soon, a lively bunch of elderly ladies sat next to me. A beautiful woman in a rose-colored kimono poured me a mug of green tea.
Three industrious sushi chefs stood against a backdrop of a large flower arrangement in a rustic stone vase. Kane was the one in the middle. As he expertly julienned a cucumber with a scary-looking knife, he asked me if there was anything I didn't like. I told him I'd eat everything, and that I was especially fond of salmon roe and sea urchin.
Kane recommended the 10-piece omakase for me, but I did him one better, asking for the 11-piece. (I was later to find that I'd made a mistake, as for the first time during my stay in Tokyo, I was actually unable to finish a meal.)
He deposited a little bowl of yuzu-laced salmon roe in front of me. They were perfect little orange bubbles, not compromised by too much salt or sugar.
Kane also let me try a piece of a watermelon pickle he was slicing, and then he gave me a bowl of shredded daikon and wakame seaweed.
It was time for sushi - a carnival of crunchy, melty and chewy fish. This sushi would be served a piece at a time, dipped in a bowl of soy sauce and eaten by hand. First was a rosy piece of medium fatty tuna. The tuna melted in my mouth and the rice was slightly warm. Next came glistening, translucent fluke, with a bed of bright green chives between the fish and the rice.
Sea-salt-sprinkled squid was next. I was really delighted by the use of salt, chives, ginger and garlic to highlight the particular deliciousness of each fish.
Kane, remembering that I loved sea urchin, piled the sweet, creamy orange uni atop some rice, dabbed it with some soy sauce, and wrapped up the little present with a strip of crisp, dark nori seaweed.
Next was a bowl of sweet white miso soup in which floated the tiniest clams. While I sucked the shells, I noticed a few brown, mottled creatures with rainbow-colored tails wriggling around on a bamboo tray. Upon closer inspection they appeared to be shrimp. I wondered if we would be eating live shrimp. (On a related note, a friend told me that a particular delicacy at a Fukuoka restaurant is a glass of water with tiny swimming fish.)
These shrimp were indeed for me and the women next to me, although they would not be alive by the time we ate them! The flesh was gelatinous and sweet. We were told not to eat them without soy.
Striped shima-aji was next, drizzled with a bit of sudachi (Japanese lime). In contrast to some of the more gelatinous, creamy or melty fish from before, this fish was chewy.
A crunchy cooked head-on shrimp was next - I couldn't bring myself to eat the head and eyes, but the people next to me did so happily. (I guess it's a block I have.)
Next I enjoyed a piece of akagai (red shellfish) and a piece of shockingly good fatty tuna. Then, Kane asked if I liked garlic. (Of course!) He sprinkled some onto a piece of bonito.
Cool round daikon pickles were next. I wondered if the end of the meal had arrived.
Nope. Along came a meditation on the delicious eel: two charred, almost nutty portions of the fish arrived, one sweetened and one salted. "Oishii!" exclaimed the women next to me. I heartily agreed.
I'd never eaten what came next: daikon sandwiches with a filling of sour plum puree and licoricey shiso leaf. I was starting to become alarmingly full. Six pieces of maki arrived: tuna, kampyo gourd and akagai. And then there was a plate of steaming egg triangles. There was simply no room left in my stomach. "O naka ga ippai! Doozo," I said, motioning to the elderly women that they could have the sushi I wouldn't be able to eat. They laughed and obliged. There was no way something so amazing should go to waste.
I tried to take a bite out of the dessert pears, and had to give up in earnest. Next time I'll listen to Kane!
Sushi Kyubei Ginza: Ginza 8-7-6, +81 (03) 3571-6523, Tokyo.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Kabocha: Japanese Pumpkin
According to today's Taste of Home feature in the Daily Yomiuri, kabocha is traditionally eaten on the day of the winter solstice.
The sweet orange squash was all over the place when I visited Kamakura today. First I enjoyed it in croquette form; the New Quick store at the Kamakura JR station sold crispy battered patties with a center of freshly-pureed kabocha and onion. Then the kabocha made an appearance in my bowl of tempura don... the vegetable was soft and almost caramel-sweet under its layer of light batter. Finally, on the way to see the Hase Kannon temple, I found a store which exclusively sold kabocha fudge!
The sweet orange squash was all over the place when I visited Kamakura today. First I enjoyed it in croquette form; the New Quick store at the Kamakura JR station sold crispy battered patties with a center of freshly-pureed kabocha and onion. Then the kabocha made an appearance in my bowl of tempura don... the vegetable was soft and almost caramel-sweet under its layer of light batter. Finally, on the way to see the Hase Kannon temple, I found a store which exclusively sold kabocha fudge!
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Szechwan Restaurant CHEN
In a bit of foodie serendipity, our hotel happened to house the Iron Chef's famed Szechwan Restaurant CHEN. Of course we had to try it!
We stopped in for lunch, and the place was so packed that we had to sit in the smoking section. There was a sushi-bar like area where patrons could watch the culinary pyrotechnics behind a glass window... although we would've chosen to sit over there, we were just happy to get a table.
I ordered the Lunch Course, which included an appetizer of the day, soup, Chinese bread, two main dishes and a dessert. My companion was more conservative and simply ordered a vegetable dish, which also included soup. We were also served fragrant jasmine tea.
My first dish was a cold appetizer: three thumb-sized pieces of tender squid over a cilantro-spiked tumble of julienned tree ears, glass noodles, chives and bean sprouts in a mild chili sauce. We were to find that the food was prepared with more of a Japanese aesthetic: portions, presentation and spicings were delicate. (After the meal, the waitress asked me if the food had been too spicy!)
Next was my plate of fried Chinese bread. The four thick round slices were so sweet that I wondered if they were made of rice flour, but the waitress checked and they were wheat-flour-based. (I was starting to feel bad for my companion's lack of courses and offered to share my food.)
We were then served two kinds of soup: my companion's was a chicken broth in which floated tiny tofu cubes and glass noodles, and mine was a sweetish Chinese onion soup.
No sooner had we drained our bowls than the entrees appeared! Three shiny white plates showcased: the Iron Chef's famed Szechwan shrimp - three huge prawns smothered in a red sriracha sauce with a mixed green salad; braised sea bream anointed with hot chili; and a soupy bowl of stir-fried julienned carrots, snow peas, bean sprouts and tree ears with a bowl of rice. My companion marveled at the consistency of the rice, calling it "al dente."
Dessert was a small salad of diced apples and kiwis suspended in a glass of sweet green jasmine jello! We left our meal satisfied but not stuffed.
Szechwan Restaurant CHEN: Cerulean Tower Tokyu Hotel, 26-1 Sakuragaoka-Cho, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo 150-8512, +81 (03) 3476-3000.
We stopped in for lunch, and the place was so packed that we had to sit in the smoking section. There was a sushi-bar like area where patrons could watch the culinary pyrotechnics behind a glass window... although we would've chosen to sit over there, we were just happy to get a table.
I ordered the Lunch Course, which included an appetizer of the day, soup, Chinese bread, two main dishes and a dessert. My companion was more conservative and simply ordered a vegetable dish, which also included soup. We were also served fragrant jasmine tea.
My first dish was a cold appetizer: three thumb-sized pieces of tender squid over a cilantro-spiked tumble of julienned tree ears, glass noodles, chives and bean sprouts in a mild chili sauce. We were to find that the food was prepared with more of a Japanese aesthetic: portions, presentation and spicings were delicate. (After the meal, the waitress asked me if the food had been too spicy!)
Next was my plate of fried Chinese bread. The four thick round slices were so sweet that I wondered if they were made of rice flour, but the waitress checked and they were wheat-flour-based. (I was starting to feel bad for my companion's lack of courses and offered to share my food.)
We were then served two kinds of soup: my companion's was a chicken broth in which floated tiny tofu cubes and glass noodles, and mine was a sweetish Chinese onion soup.
No sooner had we drained our bowls than the entrees appeared! Three shiny white plates showcased: the Iron Chef's famed Szechwan shrimp - three huge prawns smothered in a red sriracha sauce with a mixed green salad; braised sea bream anointed with hot chili; and a soupy bowl of stir-fried julienned carrots, snow peas, bean sprouts and tree ears with a bowl of rice. My companion marveled at the consistency of the rice, calling it "al dente."
Dessert was a small salad of diced apples and kiwis suspended in a glass of sweet green jasmine jello! We left our meal satisfied but not stuffed.
Szechwan Restaurant CHEN: Cerulean Tower Tokyu Hotel, 26-1 Sakuragaoka-Cho, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo 150-8512, +81 (03) 3476-3000.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
10-Course Meal at Higashi-Yama Tokyo
A few more days of eating like I did tonight, and I'll have a promising new career as a sumo wrestler! Yet the cuisine at Higashi-Yama was so exquisite that all caloric concerns slipped my mind.
You'd never know that such an amazing restaurant lurked behind a nondescript concrete wall near the Shibuya district. But once we opened the scratched metal door, we were transported into a dim, Zenlike foyer which led into private rooms for each party. There were seven in our group, and we sat around a table of bamboo latticework encased in glass. Our friend Yuki, who is something of a food encyclopedia, ordered us a rice shochu which had been aged in cedar for 800 years. The clear liquid was so mild and sweet that I wondered if it indeed contained any alcohol.
The door opened, and we were served our first course: a cold tofu custard accented with crunchy lotus root and shungiku, a green vegetable. Then our appetites were whetted by a plate containing four slices of sashimi: red snapper, melt-in-your-mouth tuna, and two slices of slippery Japanese mackerel.
Next was a cube of pressed oyster and fish cake in a clear bonito broth with a sliver of Japanese yuzu citrus and a sweet leaf of spinach. We slurped this up in no time, and were then served two plump grilled scallops on a bed of arugula salad mixed with crisp asparagus and soft-boiled egg, the yolk of which provided a creamy dressing.
A small plate of delicate tempura was next - two pieces of lightly fried monkfish and a strip of red pepper were accompanied by a tiny spray of pink Niigata sea salt for dipping. According to Yuki, the artisanal salt had been extracted from seaweed, and the serving of the tempura course signified the middle of the meal. Although the portions were small, their cumulative effect was such that I was starting to wonder if I'd be able to finish another five courses!
We then enjoyed braised, deep-sea snapper-like fish in a warm ponzu broth with scallions and shredded daikon radish. Soon after that was a plate of cooked spicy cod roe.
Course number eight was the entree: a choice of walnut-fed Iberico ham with Japanese leeks in a soy broth or seared "kue," a fish which is native to Japan. Yuki said it was known for its "ugly face and delicious taste."
The last savory course was a giant communal bowl of udon in its own cooking broth, which we swirled in a mixture of dried ginger, scallions and a cold soy broth. The udon was chewy and tasty even without sauce.
By now, my stomach was starting to protest, but it was time for dessert, which was a two-toned and two-textured. A liquid layer of dark green, sweet matcha coulis sat atop a dense, creamy coconut custard. When the two layers were mixed together, the result was mind-bogglingly delicious.
I highly recommend Higashi-Yama!
Higashi-Yama, Meguro-ku, Tokyo, Japan, +81 (03) 5720-1300.
You'd never know that such an amazing restaurant lurked behind a nondescript concrete wall near the Shibuya district. But once we opened the scratched metal door, we were transported into a dim, Zenlike foyer which led into private rooms for each party. There were seven in our group, and we sat around a table of bamboo latticework encased in glass. Our friend Yuki, who is something of a food encyclopedia, ordered us a rice shochu which had been aged in cedar for 800 years. The clear liquid was so mild and sweet that I wondered if it indeed contained any alcohol.
The door opened, and we were served our first course: a cold tofu custard accented with crunchy lotus root and shungiku, a green vegetable. Then our appetites were whetted by a plate containing four slices of sashimi: red snapper, melt-in-your-mouth tuna, and two slices of slippery Japanese mackerel.
Next was a cube of pressed oyster and fish cake in a clear bonito broth with a sliver of Japanese yuzu citrus and a sweet leaf of spinach. We slurped this up in no time, and were then served two plump grilled scallops on a bed of arugula salad mixed with crisp asparagus and soft-boiled egg, the yolk of which provided a creamy dressing.
A small plate of delicate tempura was next - two pieces of lightly fried monkfish and a strip of red pepper were accompanied by a tiny spray of pink Niigata sea salt for dipping. According to Yuki, the artisanal salt had been extracted from seaweed, and the serving of the tempura course signified the middle of the meal. Although the portions were small, their cumulative effect was such that I was starting to wonder if I'd be able to finish another five courses!
We then enjoyed braised, deep-sea snapper-like fish in a warm ponzu broth with scallions and shredded daikon radish. Soon after that was a plate of cooked spicy cod roe.
Course number eight was the entree: a choice of walnut-fed Iberico ham with Japanese leeks in a soy broth or seared "kue," a fish which is native to Japan. Yuki said it was known for its "ugly face and delicious taste."
The last savory course was a giant communal bowl of udon in its own cooking broth, which we swirled in a mixture of dried ginger, scallions and a cold soy broth. The udon was chewy and tasty even without sauce.
By now, my stomach was starting to protest, but it was time for dessert, which was a two-toned and two-textured. A liquid layer of dark green, sweet matcha coulis sat atop a dense, creamy coconut custard. When the two layers were mixed together, the result was mind-bogglingly delicious.
I highly recommend Higashi-Yama!
Higashi-Yama, Meguro-ku, Tokyo, Japan, +81 (03) 5720-1300.
Eel Lunch at Unagi Matsukawa
You might know that in Japan, there are separate restaurants for sushi, tempura, shabu-shabu, etc., in contrast to the more one-size-fits-all approach to the Japanese restaurant in the U.S.
With this in mind, my companion and I had lunch at Unagi Matsukawa, a tiny Shibuya eel chainlet. Many different lunch sets were available, including an eel rice bowl, eel sushi, eel and scrambled eggs over rice, and eel both with and without sauce. My companion ordered the eel over rice, and I ordered the sauceless shiroyaki, which I'd been dying to try in Japan ever since buying the frozen version at Mitsuwa in Edgewater, NJ.
Both sets came with a clear, smoky-flavored bonito soup and a small dish of mild, not very salty pickles. My companion also enjoyed a tarragon-y corn and lettuce salad, and my set included stewed freeze-dried tofu, carrots and taro. Most important, the eel was unforgettable. Mine was moist, flaky and tender (it's often chewy in the U.S.) and I dipped it into an astringent ponzu sauce.
After a cup of roasted green tea, we were on our way.
Unagi Matsukawa: Shibuya-ku, Tokyo, Japan, +81 (03) 3461-1065.
With this in mind, my companion and I had lunch at Unagi Matsukawa, a tiny Shibuya eel chainlet. Many different lunch sets were available, including an eel rice bowl, eel sushi, eel and scrambled eggs over rice, and eel both with and without sauce. My companion ordered the eel over rice, and I ordered the sauceless shiroyaki, which I'd been dying to try in Japan ever since buying the frozen version at Mitsuwa in Edgewater, NJ.
Both sets came with a clear, smoky-flavored bonito soup and a small dish of mild, not very salty pickles. My companion also enjoyed a tarragon-y corn and lettuce salad, and my set included stewed freeze-dried tofu, carrots and taro. Most important, the eel was unforgettable. Mine was moist, flaky and tender (it's often chewy in the U.S.) and I dipped it into an astringent ponzu sauce.
After a cup of roasted green tea, we were on our way.
Unagi Matsukawa: Shibuya-ku, Tokyo, Japan, +81 (03) 3461-1065.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Sushizanmai
I wish I hadn't eaten all three meals during the flight from New York, I thought as I walked into Sushizanmai with my companion and some friends. Sushizanmai, located in the famous Tsukiji Fish Market district, is a 24-hour, jam-packed "fish-and-nothing-but-the-fish" sushi bar. Giant sheets of striated pink tuna lie on a cutting board next to a fish tank, and all manner of delicious orange, pink and silver fish decorate bamboo trays.
We let our friends order for us, and the culinary onslaught began with the sashimi tray: slick yellowtail, gummy squid, head-on sweet shrimp, creamy sea urchin, and rich fatty tuna. "This squid is so tender," I remarked, thinking of the crunchy, inferior versions I've eaten.
A giant bowl of seaweed soup arrived next, as well as a bowl of something I didn't recognize: a gooey, brain-like mass accompanied by julienned cucumbers and seaweed. "What's this?" I asked. "Shiratako ponzu," said our friend, "or, monkfish sperm." My eyes bugged out of my head, but I figured I should try anything once. (The milky shiratako was not exactly to my liking!)
Sushi was next. Aburi-toro, or scallion-topped broiled fatty tuna, was a flavorful bite of heaven. We also ordered the jo-anago, a long, thin slice of white eel with a drop of sauce. By now, I was kicking myself for having eaten that slice of cheese pizza on American Airlines! (By the way, if you want the Japanese in-flight menu, you must order it in advance.)
As we blissfully stuffed ourselves, our friends told us that the Tsukiji Fish Market may be closing within a few years. "I wonder what will happen to this restaurant?" I asked. "I don't know," said our friends, "but there will always be the true spirit of Edo (Old Tokyo) around Tsukiji."
"Now I'm getting full," lamented my companion. But there was still more food, cooked this time... maitake mushroom tempura fried in the freshest oil imaginable, thin slices of gingered yellowtail, and a perfectly salted, moist, meaty yellowtail head and jaw (our friends ate the eye!).
Sushizanmai: 104-0045 Chuo-ku, Tokyo, Japan, +81 (03) 5148-3737.
We let our friends order for us, and the culinary onslaught began with the sashimi tray: slick yellowtail, gummy squid, head-on sweet shrimp, creamy sea urchin, and rich fatty tuna. "This squid is so tender," I remarked, thinking of the crunchy, inferior versions I've eaten.
A giant bowl of seaweed soup arrived next, as well as a bowl of something I didn't recognize: a gooey, brain-like mass accompanied by julienned cucumbers and seaweed. "What's this?" I asked. "Shiratako ponzu," said our friend, "or, monkfish sperm." My eyes bugged out of my head, but I figured I should try anything once. (The milky shiratako was not exactly to my liking!)
Sushi was next. Aburi-toro, or scallion-topped broiled fatty tuna, was a flavorful bite of heaven. We also ordered the jo-anago, a long, thin slice of white eel with a drop of sauce. By now, I was kicking myself for having eaten that slice of cheese pizza on American Airlines! (By the way, if you want the Japanese in-flight menu, you must order it in advance.)
As we blissfully stuffed ourselves, our friends told us that the Tsukiji Fish Market may be closing within a few years. "I wonder what will happen to this restaurant?" I asked. "I don't know," said our friends, "but there will always be the true spirit of Edo (Old Tokyo) around Tsukiji."
"Now I'm getting full," lamented my companion. But there was still more food, cooked this time... maitake mushroom tempura fried in the freshest oil imaginable, thin slices of gingered yellowtail, and a perfectly salted, moist, meaty yellowtail head and jaw (our friends ate the eye!).
Sushizanmai: 104-0045 Chuo-ku, Tokyo, Japan, +81 (03) 5148-3737.
Cerulean Tower Tokyu Hotel
Only one day has gone by, and already I'm wishing I could stay at the Cerulean Tower Tokyu Hotel for the rest of my life. This hotel is only five years old, and boasts a Noh theatre and jazz club as well as the Iron Chef's Szechuan restaurant.
Our room's deep Japanese-style bath is super-luxurious, and the beds are so comfortable that even the most jet-lagged traveler will soon fall asleep. Both Japanese-style buckwheat pillows and Western-style soft pillows are provided. (Can I have one sent home, I wonder.)
My companion and I just went down to the Caramelo brunch buffet and were amazed by the variety! Just the fruit selection alone is amazing - there are prunes, Chinese matrimony fruits, mikan tangerines, and baby bananas, all served with your choice of yogurt, muesli or assorted fruit sauces. There are pastries with kiwi marmalade, cold cuts, bacon and sausage, fried, scrambled, hard-boiled and frittata eggs, and finally, there is a woman at a new-fangled juicer loaded with 20 oranges! (The fresh-squeezed is great, if 1300 yen.)
More to come...
Cerulean Tower Tokyu Hotel, 26-1 Sakuragaoka-Cho, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo 150-8512, +81 (03) 3476-3000.
Our room's deep Japanese-style bath is super-luxurious, and the beds are so comfortable that even the most jet-lagged traveler will soon fall asleep. Both Japanese-style buckwheat pillows and Western-style soft pillows are provided. (Can I have one sent home, I wonder.)
My companion and I just went down to the Caramelo brunch buffet and were amazed by the variety! Just the fruit selection alone is amazing - there are prunes, Chinese matrimony fruits, mikan tangerines, and baby bananas, all served with your choice of yogurt, muesli or assorted fruit sauces. There are pastries with kiwi marmalade, cold cuts, bacon and sausage, fried, scrambled, hard-boiled and frittata eggs, and finally, there is a woman at a new-fangled juicer loaded with 20 oranges! (The fresh-squeezed is great, if 1300 yen.)
More to come...
Cerulean Tower Tokyu Hotel, 26-1 Sakuragaoka-Cho, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo 150-8512, +81 (03) 3476-3000.
Monday, August 28, 2006
A Garden Getaway: Meadowlark Inn - Brattleboro, VT
There is the loveliest array of fresh produce in my kitchen. Bright green cucumbers, heirloom tomatoes in all shapes and sizes (even an intriguingly-named "chocolate tomato"), and sprigs of fragrant basil spill out of a large paper bag. All of these luscious veggies came not from a grocery store, but from the lovingly tended garden at the Meadowlark Inn. Deb and Lucia, the inn's gracious owners, delighted me with ever-changing breakfasts and sent me home with this bag of treasure. I cannot wait to drizzle some extra-virgin olive oil over one of these juicy, ripe tomatoes.
I must briefly repress this impulse, however, in order to describe the breakfasts! Deb and Lucia, who trained as master gardeners and chefs before opening the Meadowlark 4 years ago, prepare two daily breakfasts (sweet and savory) with local, organic ingredients. Last night, Lucia whipped up some pesto from the freshly-picked basil, and this morning she incorporated it into a delicious round frittata topped with sweet cherry tomatoes, also from the garden. The other choice this morning was French toast with cherries and maple pork sausage. Both selections were served with a large hunk of spice cake and a fruit salad with mangos and pineapples.
Yesterday, when faced with the difficult choice between Lilac Farms maple syrup-drizzled banana pancakes and two eggs over easy on a crispy-edged potato-Parmesan pancake, I opted for the latter. (I couldn't finish the included iced blueberry turnover!) And I still had the afternoon lemonade and oatmeal raisin cookies and evening tea and chocolates to look forward to.
I invite you to visit the Meadowlark Inn's Website.
Meadowlark Inn: Orchard St., Brattleboro, VT, (800) 616-6359.
I must briefly repress this impulse, however, in order to describe the breakfasts! Deb and Lucia, who trained as master gardeners and chefs before opening the Meadowlark 4 years ago, prepare two daily breakfasts (sweet and savory) with local, organic ingredients. Last night, Lucia whipped up some pesto from the freshly-picked basil, and this morning she incorporated it into a delicious round frittata topped with sweet cherry tomatoes, also from the garden. The other choice this morning was French toast with cherries and maple pork sausage. Both selections were served with a large hunk of spice cake and a fruit salad with mangos and pineapples.
Yesterday, when faced with the difficult choice between Lilac Farms maple syrup-drizzled banana pancakes and two eggs over easy on a crispy-edged potato-Parmesan pancake, I opted for the latter. (I couldn't finish the included iced blueberry turnover!) And I still had the afternoon lemonade and oatmeal raisin cookies and evening tea and chocolates to look forward to.
I invite you to visit the Meadowlark Inn's Website.
Meadowlark Inn: Orchard St., Brattleboro, VT, (800) 616-6359.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Eric Ripert's Blue and Periwinkle - Grand Cayman Ritz-Carlton
There is a lot of fanfare surrounding the opening of the new Grand Cayman Ritz-Carlton. In my opinion, the hotel's restaurants deserve their own celebration. Chef Eric Ripert of Le Bernardin is now introducing his amazing talents with seafood to a whole new audience. (Incidentally, Le Bernardin has just been voted New York's best restaurant.)
The Ritz-Carlton Grand Cayman features three restaurants: Blue, a sophisticated poolside prix-fixe affair, Periwinkle, a casual, open-air room festooned with mobiles, and Seven, a steakhouse. (My companion and I dined at the first two. Our other nights were spent at Ragazzi and Bamboo, with one regrettable experience at Decker's.)
Periwinkle and Blue both share a fun mix-and-match concept. The diner can choose one of five meats or fish (at Periwinkle, they are tuna, shrimp, chicken, skirt steak and swordfish; at Blue, the choices are wahoo, swordfish, tuna, lamb and N.Y. Strip). One of five sauces and sides are recommended for each dish, but you can experiment with your own selections. (I put my faith in the chef's recommendations, but my companion decided to be more adventurous.)
If you like swordfish but are often disappointed in its preparation, you'll experience a revelation at Blue and Periwinkle. My companion ordered the swordfish at Periwinkle, and I was so amazed by it that I later ordered it at Blue. It was as delicate, moist and tender as if it had been poached, arriving in two delicious slabs, faintly marked with browned grill crosshatches. I think I'm now spoiled for life.
Periwinkle is truly a restaurant the whole family can enjoy; we saw several children happily enjoying grilled pizzas, mini-burgers and Cubanos. I ordered the soupe de poisson, which was poured into my bowl while I admired the accompanying crostini, flask of saffron aioli and small bowl of grated Gruyere. You can make the light, saffron-scented broth as rich as you want; I think I went overboard with the aromatic aioli.
Next up was my medium-rare grilled tuna with a refreshing endive arugula salad and tangy mango mustard. My companion chose to accompany the swordfish with the recommended sides for the chicken breast - warm toasted fregula (a semolina pasta shaped like tiny lentils) in a pine nutty, spinach-flecked Moroccan preparation, and vibrant green pesto. (The recommended sides for the swordfish were herbed vinaigrette and grilled asparagus.)
While we enjoyed all of this, we kept going back to our basket of hot fresh rolls. So we were quite stuffed when the dessert menu came around. But with selections like yuzu parfait and mango cheesecake, how could we resist? We ended up with an imported cheese plate - pungent Stilton, goat cheese and a syrupy soft washed-rind French cow's milk cheese served with sweet-poached shallots, kumquats and figs, and an unbearably delicious warm dark chocolate tart covered in melted whipped cream.
You might wonder how we managed to tackle Blue's prix fixe a couple nights later, but the appetite is a miraculous thing. So, we soon found ourselves sipping Seghesio Zinfandel while pondering Blue's five-course and the three-course menus. The helpful waiter advised us that Blue's five-course prix fixe offers uncommonly large portions, with 5 oz. of meat or fish on average per course. We were a bit intimidated by that and decided on the three-course, which included appetizer, entree and (the all-important) dessert.
While we waited for our appetizers, we admired the dimly lit, blue-accented room. Our white-clothed table was decorated with blue flower petals and chic Michael Aram tableware. A tuna tartare amuse-bouche arrived on an attractive aqua leaf-shaped plate.
We noticed that Ripert had looked to Caribbean cuisine for some of his inspiration. The entree menu included a West Indian curried chicken and a baked yellowtail with plantains. There was even a salad with breadfruit croutons; ever since reading Robinson Crusoe, I had wondered about the taste of this intriguingly-named food. The black-truffle-dressed salad of baby greens and parsley surrounded several thin slices of thyme-seared yellowfin tuna, each slice a deep rose bordered by two stripes of light pink. And the breadfruit? There were a couple small cubes of it; my companion and I thought it tasted like potato. My companion was floored by the lobster in a chilled ginger coconut soup accented with diced avocado and mango. Red, yellow and green, the bowl was a tasty tableau.
For dinner, I chose the aforementioned swordfish; Blue's version included a luscious, thick passionfruit Bearnaise sauce ("Say when," said the waiter as he spooned it onto my plate) and a heap of spinach topped with coconut and cashews. My companion's choice was the yellowfin tuna with baby bok choy. The bok choy was perfectly tender, soft, and devoid of extra moisture.
We'd again made the mistake of overly indulging in bread, but this time, dessert was a mandatory course! The waiter recommended both the cider doughnuts/cinnamon beignets and the coffee-infused chocolate ganache tart; I went with the latter suggestion. Although I appreciated its drizzle of dulce de leche, I preferred the chocolate-through-and-through tart at Periwinkle; Blue's tart held a liquidy mixture of chocolate and caramel. (My companion enjoyed the millefeuille layered with banana cream.)
Our last bite of the heavenly Blue was a housemade pistachio-chocolate truffle.
Blue and Periwinkle: The Ritz-Carlton, Seven Mile Beach, Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands. (345) 943-9000.
The Ritz-Carlton Grand Cayman features three restaurants: Blue, a sophisticated poolside prix-fixe affair, Periwinkle, a casual, open-air room festooned with mobiles, and Seven, a steakhouse. (My companion and I dined at the first two. Our other nights were spent at Ragazzi and Bamboo, with one regrettable experience at Decker's.)
Periwinkle and Blue both share a fun mix-and-match concept. The diner can choose one of five meats or fish (at Periwinkle, they are tuna, shrimp, chicken, skirt steak and swordfish; at Blue, the choices are wahoo, swordfish, tuna, lamb and N.Y. Strip). One of five sauces and sides are recommended for each dish, but you can experiment with your own selections. (I put my faith in the chef's recommendations, but my companion decided to be more adventurous.)
If you like swordfish but are often disappointed in its preparation, you'll experience a revelation at Blue and Periwinkle. My companion ordered the swordfish at Periwinkle, and I was so amazed by it that I later ordered it at Blue. It was as delicate, moist and tender as if it had been poached, arriving in two delicious slabs, faintly marked with browned grill crosshatches. I think I'm now spoiled for life.
Periwinkle is truly a restaurant the whole family can enjoy; we saw several children happily enjoying grilled pizzas, mini-burgers and Cubanos. I ordered the soupe de poisson, which was poured into my bowl while I admired the accompanying crostini, flask of saffron aioli and small bowl of grated Gruyere. You can make the light, saffron-scented broth as rich as you want; I think I went overboard with the aromatic aioli.
Next up was my medium-rare grilled tuna with a refreshing endive arugula salad and tangy mango mustard. My companion chose to accompany the swordfish with the recommended sides for the chicken breast - warm toasted fregula (a semolina pasta shaped like tiny lentils) in a pine nutty, spinach-flecked Moroccan preparation, and vibrant green pesto. (The recommended sides for the swordfish were herbed vinaigrette and grilled asparagus.)
While we enjoyed all of this, we kept going back to our basket of hot fresh rolls. So we were quite stuffed when the dessert menu came around. But with selections like yuzu parfait and mango cheesecake, how could we resist? We ended up with an imported cheese plate - pungent Stilton, goat cheese and a syrupy soft washed-rind French cow's milk cheese served with sweet-poached shallots, kumquats and figs, and an unbearably delicious warm dark chocolate tart covered in melted whipped cream.
You might wonder how we managed to tackle Blue's prix fixe a couple nights later, but the appetite is a miraculous thing. So, we soon found ourselves sipping Seghesio Zinfandel while pondering Blue's five-course and the three-course menus. The helpful waiter advised us that Blue's five-course prix fixe offers uncommonly large portions, with 5 oz. of meat or fish on average per course. We were a bit intimidated by that and decided on the three-course, which included appetizer, entree and (the all-important) dessert.
While we waited for our appetizers, we admired the dimly lit, blue-accented room. Our white-clothed table was decorated with blue flower petals and chic Michael Aram tableware. A tuna tartare amuse-bouche arrived on an attractive aqua leaf-shaped plate.
We noticed that Ripert had looked to Caribbean cuisine for some of his inspiration. The entree menu included a West Indian curried chicken and a baked yellowtail with plantains. There was even a salad with breadfruit croutons; ever since reading Robinson Crusoe, I had wondered about the taste of this intriguingly-named food. The black-truffle-dressed salad of baby greens and parsley surrounded several thin slices of thyme-seared yellowfin tuna, each slice a deep rose bordered by two stripes of light pink. And the breadfruit? There were a couple small cubes of it; my companion and I thought it tasted like potato. My companion was floored by the lobster in a chilled ginger coconut soup accented with diced avocado and mango. Red, yellow and green, the bowl was a tasty tableau.
For dinner, I chose the aforementioned swordfish; Blue's version included a luscious, thick passionfruit Bearnaise sauce ("Say when," said the waiter as he spooned it onto my plate) and a heap of spinach topped with coconut and cashews. My companion's choice was the yellowfin tuna with baby bok choy. The bok choy was perfectly tender, soft, and devoid of extra moisture.
We'd again made the mistake of overly indulging in bread, but this time, dessert was a mandatory course! The waiter recommended both the cider doughnuts/cinnamon beignets and the coffee-infused chocolate ganache tart; I went with the latter suggestion. Although I appreciated its drizzle of dulce de leche, I preferred the chocolate-through-and-through tart at Periwinkle; Blue's tart held a liquidy mixture of chocolate and caramel. (My companion enjoyed the millefeuille layered with banana cream.)
Our last bite of the heavenly Blue was a housemade pistachio-chocolate truffle.
Blue and Periwinkle: The Ritz-Carlton, Seven Mile Beach, Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands. (345) 943-9000.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
A Cheese Sandwich Never Tasted So Good
As I've written, I'm not very athletic, except when it comes to competitive eating. I've never even skied before! But the promise of a charming teahouse 1,000 feet up a mountain was incentive enough for me to attempt a 6.5-mile hike.
A friend and I planned to visit the Plain of the Six Glaciers Teahouse, where food supplies are trucked up by horse. Granted, if there hadn't been a meal involved, you wouldn't have caught me hiking away while munching on dry trail mix. And if I'd known what was involved in this excursion, I might have stayed at ground level and sipped tea at the Chateau Lake Louise!
It was an overcast day. I was dressed as if I were about to walk down a New York sidewalk instead of hiking up a snowy mountain. On my feet were Dansko clogs, not hiking boots. My attire consisted of a T-shirt and a leather jacket, for I was totally unaware that temperature drops as you ascend a mountain. Even worse, I wasn't carrying an umbrella.
Walking around the lake, I marveled at its gorgeous aqua hue. The scene of the lake between the mountains was so picturesque that I ignored the drops of rain that were beginning to fall. For some reason, I was certain that the drizzle wouldn't intensify.
How wrong I was. While I navigated the sharp stones with my clogs, the clouds opened and the rain began to pour. The trees provided no cover; instead, they acted as colanders. The ground turned to mud, painting my black clogs brown. Since it was the very beginning of the season (and a very rainy day), the mountain was almost empty of hikers. So, I was glad to pass a rare group of seasoned hikers, although I envied their umbrellas, rain ponchos and walking sticks. "How much farther do we have left to go?" "What do you want to hear?" they laughed. "Well, you're probably about one-third of the way there."
They didn't tell me that a large part of the trail was covered with snow. As I haltingly ascended, I tried to avoid the melting ice streams, thinking that snow would provide a more secure surface on which to walk. Unfortunately, in one instance I miscalculated, stepped on a snowbank, fell, and got a legful of water. Then, I tried not to slide back down the mountain as I walked up a slippery, snowy hill. The footprints of the few earlier hikers provided footholds. My hair was now soaking wet, and I was freezing in my wet T-shirt and jacket.
In the middle of my ordeal, I wondered about the teahouse. What was the menu like? My friend opined that only tea and bread would be available. We were both extremely hungry (although, in lieu of trail mix, I had my trusty Belgian chocolate bar). Would there be souvenir sweatshirts available so that I could change my wet clothing?
The rain eventually stopped. We slowed down to appreciate the abstract designs the snow made on the dark grey mountains. The air was the cleanest I've ever breathed.
And then, we turned to the right and there it was... the teahouse! A two-story log cabin, it could have been the Ritz-Carlton as far as I was concerned. Our tired legs carried us up the stairs and we deposited ourselves at a red wooden table.
There were no sweatshirts for my shivering frame, but there were T-shirts. And fortunately, there was more than bread on the menu (although there was homemade bread). There were tuna, cheddar, "handmade hummus," and PB&J sandwiches, vegetable soup, chips and salsa, fresh scones, chocolate cake and apple pie, fair-trade coffee, tea and hot chocolate. According to the menu, all food was made fresh on a propane stove and water came from a pristine underground stream.
The tea arrived lukewarm, but the coffee was strong and hot; I asked for seconds to try to warm up. The vegetable soup was hearty and filled with pasta. Corn chips and salsa were store-bought and lackluster, but I really enjoyed my sharp cheddar sandwich on thick fresh bread. (It more than made up for the gummy apple pie!) I downed all food with abandon; it's amazing what hiking can do for your appetite! (As if I needed any help in that department.)
The Plain of the Six Glaciers Teahouse: Lake Louise, Alberta, Canada.
A friend and I planned to visit the Plain of the Six Glaciers Teahouse, where food supplies are trucked up by horse. Granted, if there hadn't been a meal involved, you wouldn't have caught me hiking away while munching on dry trail mix. And if I'd known what was involved in this excursion, I might have stayed at ground level and sipped tea at the Chateau Lake Louise!
It was an overcast day. I was dressed as if I were about to walk down a New York sidewalk instead of hiking up a snowy mountain. On my feet were Dansko clogs, not hiking boots. My attire consisted of a T-shirt and a leather jacket, for I was totally unaware that temperature drops as you ascend a mountain. Even worse, I wasn't carrying an umbrella.
Walking around the lake, I marveled at its gorgeous aqua hue. The scene of the lake between the mountains was so picturesque that I ignored the drops of rain that were beginning to fall. For some reason, I was certain that the drizzle wouldn't intensify.
How wrong I was. While I navigated the sharp stones with my clogs, the clouds opened and the rain began to pour. The trees provided no cover; instead, they acted as colanders. The ground turned to mud, painting my black clogs brown. Since it was the very beginning of the season (and a very rainy day), the mountain was almost empty of hikers. So, I was glad to pass a rare group of seasoned hikers, although I envied their umbrellas, rain ponchos and walking sticks. "How much farther do we have left to go?" "What do you want to hear?" they laughed. "Well, you're probably about one-third of the way there."
They didn't tell me that a large part of the trail was covered with snow. As I haltingly ascended, I tried to avoid the melting ice streams, thinking that snow would provide a more secure surface on which to walk. Unfortunately, in one instance I miscalculated, stepped on a snowbank, fell, and got a legful of water. Then, I tried not to slide back down the mountain as I walked up a slippery, snowy hill. The footprints of the few earlier hikers provided footholds. My hair was now soaking wet, and I was freezing in my wet T-shirt and jacket.
In the middle of my ordeal, I wondered about the teahouse. What was the menu like? My friend opined that only tea and bread would be available. We were both extremely hungry (although, in lieu of trail mix, I had my trusty Belgian chocolate bar). Would there be souvenir sweatshirts available so that I could change my wet clothing?
The rain eventually stopped. We slowed down to appreciate the abstract designs the snow made on the dark grey mountains. The air was the cleanest I've ever breathed.
And then, we turned to the right and there it was... the teahouse! A two-story log cabin, it could have been the Ritz-Carlton as far as I was concerned. Our tired legs carried us up the stairs and we deposited ourselves at a red wooden table.
There were no sweatshirts for my shivering frame, but there were T-shirts. And fortunately, there was more than bread on the menu (although there was homemade bread). There were tuna, cheddar, "handmade hummus," and PB&J sandwiches, vegetable soup, chips and salsa, fresh scones, chocolate cake and apple pie, fair-trade coffee, tea and hot chocolate. According to the menu, all food was made fresh on a propane stove and water came from a pristine underground stream.
The tea arrived lukewarm, but the coffee was strong and hot; I asked for seconds to try to warm up. The vegetable soup was hearty and filled with pasta. Corn chips and salsa were store-bought and lackluster, but I really enjoyed my sharp cheddar sandwich on thick fresh bread. (It more than made up for the gummy apple pie!) I downed all food with abandon; it's amazing what hiking can do for your appetite! (As if I needed any help in that department.)
The Plain of the Six Glaciers Teahouse: Lake Louise, Alberta, Canada.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
A Peak Experience at the Banff Springs Hotel
Although I appreciate the grandeur of the mountains, I'm not much for hiking. However, I have no problem making my way up a three-tiered platter of edibles. Today, at the Rundle Lounge of the Banff Springs Hotel, a spectacular view of snow-capped peaks was the backdrop for such an indulgence.
The Rundle Lounge, which overlooks the Cascade, Rundle and Tunnel Mountains, is a great place to enjoy the Canadian Rockies without too much exertion. The cafe features assorted soups, salads and appetizers, as well as a couple of options for those who like their treats in triplicate. There is the afternoon tea, which involves three plates of chocolate-covered strawberries, white and dark chocolate mousses and assorted tarts, scones with Devonshire cream, and finger sandwiches. Afternoon tea is served only from 2-4 p.m., but the amazing "3-tiered sharing platter" is served all day. My friend and I indulged in the latter since we arrived at noon.
The bottom tier includes the popular potato flatbread with red onion, creme fraiche and British Columbian smoked salmon, and a few pieces of jumbo shrimp tempura with wasabi mayonnaise. Moving on to the middle plate, there are crab cakes, crispy spring rolls with sweet chili jam, and a mini-assortment of dim sum (pork dumplings and the like).
The "peak" of the experience is a plate featuring four Calgary cheeses (our favorite was the Camembert), ripe grapes and strawberries, crackers and flatbreads, chicken liverwurst and wild game pate. This plate was definitely the highlight for me!
Although I would have availed myself of the trio of white chocolate Brie cheesecake, Guinness chocolate cake and chai custard, my friend wanted to take a walk down the Bow River Valley trail. (For once, exercise took priority over dessert.)
Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel: 405 Spray Ave., Banff, Alberta, Canada. (403) 762-2211.
The Rundle Lounge, which overlooks the Cascade, Rundle and Tunnel Mountains, is a great place to enjoy the Canadian Rockies without too much exertion. The cafe features assorted soups, salads and appetizers, as well as a couple of options for those who like their treats in triplicate. There is the afternoon tea, which involves three plates of chocolate-covered strawberries, white and dark chocolate mousses and assorted tarts, scones with Devonshire cream, and finger sandwiches. Afternoon tea is served only from 2-4 p.m., but the amazing "3-tiered sharing platter" is served all day. My friend and I indulged in the latter since we arrived at noon.
The bottom tier includes the popular potato flatbread with red onion, creme fraiche and British Columbian smoked salmon, and a few pieces of jumbo shrimp tempura with wasabi mayonnaise. Moving on to the middle plate, there are crab cakes, crispy spring rolls with sweet chili jam, and a mini-assortment of dim sum (pork dumplings and the like).
The "peak" of the experience is a plate featuring four Calgary cheeses (our favorite was the Camembert), ripe grapes and strawberries, crackers and flatbreads, chicken liverwurst and wild game pate. This plate was definitely the highlight for me!
Although I would have availed myself of the trio of white chocolate Brie cheesecake, Guinness chocolate cake and chai custard, my friend wanted to take a walk down the Bow River Valley trail. (For once, exercise took priority over dessert.)
Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel: 405 Spray Ave., Banff, Alberta, Canada. (403) 762-2211.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Bernard Callebaut Chocolates
In one of life's minor injustices, there are presently no Bernard Callebaut stores in New York. Several years ago, there were two in suburban Rye and Scarsdale, but they closed for lack of business. I think the chocolates would have been wildly successful in NYC, but I don't know if there were ever plans for an NYC store. So, the only U.S. cities where you can find Bernard Callebaut chocolates are Scottsdale, AZ, Portland, OR, and Chicago. (Fortunately, there is a thriving mail-order business, with contact information below.)
Bernard Callebaut, the fourth generation of the famous Belgian chocolate family, creates chocolate truffles with distinctive fresh cream fillings. Some popular flavors are mokka (a dark chocolate half-moon filled with coffee and pear fondant), leaf (a milk chocolate leaf with black currant and milk chocolate ganache inside) and la flamme (dark chocolate with orange and caramel). More exotic flavors include petale (dark chocolate with oil of flower petals and bittersweet ganache), and in summertime, there's a truly amazing apple-raspberry truffle with a layer of fresh cream.
Bernard Callebaut Chocolates: (800) 661-8367.
Bernard Callebaut, the fourth generation of the famous Belgian chocolate family, creates chocolate truffles with distinctive fresh cream fillings. Some popular flavors are mokka (a dark chocolate half-moon filled with coffee and pear fondant), leaf (a milk chocolate leaf with black currant and milk chocolate ganache inside) and la flamme (dark chocolate with orange and caramel). More exotic flavors include petale (dark chocolate with oil of flower petals and bittersweet ganache), and in summertime, there's a truly amazing apple-raspberry truffle with a layer of fresh cream.
Bernard Callebaut Chocolates: (800) 661-8367.
Saturday, November 27, 2004
Garlic-Raspberry Ice Cream?
Walking down Atlantic Avenue in Delray Beach, Florida, I spied a curious sign: an advertisement for garlic-raspberry ice cream. The ad, posted by Foxy's Ice Cream & Dessert Cafe, attempted to persuade the reader to try this ice cream by touting its unique ability to alienate other people. "Meeting with the ex and their lawyer? Eat this ice cream and cut that meeting time in half!"
I am always in favor of culinary exploration, but this seemed rather dubious to me. Nevertheless, I turned onto South East 5th Avenue and entered a homey, cheerful ice cream shop named after somebody's dog. "So what's this about garlic-raspberry ice cream?" I asked. "Is this for real?"
A man who must have been the owner offered proudly, "It was my idea! I originally came up with it a few years ago for the Garlic Festival."
I hesitated, and then decided to take the plunge and ask for a sample. I took the spoon, held it to my lips and...
...it was all wrong! The garlic flavor stuck out like a sore thumb. Raspberries and cream is a nice combination, as is garlic and warm cream, but not raspberries, sugar, garlic and cold cream. Trying to forget the taste, I made my exit as politely as I could. (In Foxy's defense, the other flavors seemed very appealing. They included Kahlua almond fudge, tiramisu, rum raisin and toasted coconut. But I recommend that you skip that garlic-raspberry!)
I still wanted some form of berry ice cream, minus superfluous herbs and spices, so I strolled further down Atlantic Avenue. To my left was a Ben & Jerry's. But to my right was a godsend: Nonna's Cafe, the year-old gelateria which makes everything fresh on an Italian gelatomaker. One bite of Nonna's frutti del bosco multi-berry sorbetto and I was on cloud nine. (They also have a rich-as-pudding chocolate gelato and a mango sorbetto accented with chunks of fresh sweet fruit.)
Nonna's Cafe: 1136 E. Atlantic Ave., Delray Beach, FL, (561) 279-9328. Foxy's Ice Cream & Dessert Cafe: 12 SE 5th Ave., Delray Beach, FL, (561) 276-9379.
I am always in favor of culinary exploration, but this seemed rather dubious to me. Nevertheless, I turned onto South East 5th Avenue and entered a homey, cheerful ice cream shop named after somebody's dog. "So what's this about garlic-raspberry ice cream?" I asked. "Is this for real?"
A man who must have been the owner offered proudly, "It was my idea! I originally came up with it a few years ago for the Garlic Festival."
I hesitated, and then decided to take the plunge and ask for a sample. I took the spoon, held it to my lips and...
...it was all wrong! The garlic flavor stuck out like a sore thumb. Raspberries and cream is a nice combination, as is garlic and warm cream, but not raspberries, sugar, garlic and cold cream. Trying to forget the taste, I made my exit as politely as I could. (In Foxy's defense, the other flavors seemed very appealing. They included Kahlua almond fudge, tiramisu, rum raisin and toasted coconut. But I recommend that you skip that garlic-raspberry!)
I still wanted some form of berry ice cream, minus superfluous herbs and spices, so I strolled further down Atlantic Avenue. To my left was a Ben & Jerry's. But to my right was a godsend: Nonna's Cafe, the year-old gelateria which makes everything fresh on an Italian gelatomaker. One bite of Nonna's frutti del bosco multi-berry sorbetto and I was on cloud nine. (They also have a rich-as-pudding chocolate gelato and a mango sorbetto accented with chunks of fresh sweet fruit.)
Nonna's Cafe: 1136 E. Atlantic Ave., Delray Beach, FL, (561) 279-9328. Foxy's Ice Cream & Dessert Cafe: 12 SE 5th Ave., Delray Beach, FL, (561) 276-9379.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
The 2004 Bermuda Culinary Arts Festival
Here's a wonderful way to beat the November blahs this year.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
Montreal: Hotel Gault
If you're looking for a gourmet escape, I highly recommend the superb Hotel Gault in Old Montreal. Picturesque, romantic Old Montreal has been experiencing a renaissance of late with the construction of several boutique hotels, of which Hotel Gault is one.
Breakfast is included in the cost of the room, and you can either enjoy it in the modern lobby or have it delivered to your room. I opted to eat in the lobby, as there is an all-you-can-eat buffet in addition to the regular menu. The buffet features a beautiful assortment of fresh fruit, viennoiseries (French pastries) and a changing array of soft-ripened Quebec cheeses like Brie Manoir and Mi-Careme. It is difficult to decide between a fresh herb three-egg omelette with a shredded potato rosti or a stack of buttermilk pancakes with real Canadian maple syrup and sausages. The strong, smooth coffee is fair-trade.
You'll probably want to dine at one of Montreal's excellent restaurants, but if you decide to stay in, you'll delight in the eclectic dinner menu at Hotel Gault, which includes specialties such as grilled salmon with fennel salad and caviar cream, duck-leg confit, honey-glazed quail, and partridge fir jelly garnished with celeriac puree.
Each night, complementary squares of Valrhona Guanaja chocolates will send you off to dreamland.
Hotel Gault: rue Sainte-Hélène, Montréal (Québec) Canada, 1-866-904-1616.
Breakfast is included in the cost of the room, and you can either enjoy it in the modern lobby or have it delivered to your room. I opted to eat in the lobby, as there is an all-you-can-eat buffet in addition to the regular menu. The buffet features a beautiful assortment of fresh fruit, viennoiseries (French pastries) and a changing array of soft-ripened Quebec cheeses like Brie Manoir and Mi-Careme. It is difficult to decide between a fresh herb three-egg omelette with a shredded potato rosti or a stack of buttermilk pancakes with real Canadian maple syrup and sausages. The strong, smooth coffee is fair-trade.
You'll probably want to dine at one of Montreal's excellent restaurants, but if you decide to stay in, you'll delight in the eclectic dinner menu at Hotel Gault, which includes specialties such as grilled salmon with fennel salad and caviar cream, duck-leg confit, honey-glazed quail, and partridge fir jelly garnished with celeriac puree.
Each night, complementary squares of Valrhona Guanaja chocolates will send you off to dreamland.
Hotel Gault: rue Sainte-Hélène, Montréal (Québec) Canada, 1-866-904-1616.
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