Another Night, Another Bistro

It's easy to get the idea that delicious bistros in Paris are a dime a dozen. There are, however, several fallacies embedded in this argument:

1) France is on the Euro - there are no dimes.

2) Although most food in Paris is, in my opinion, better than the food in America, good bistros are harder to come by than one might believe. Hopefully my recommendations with help.

Tonight I picked a winner (not a nose-picking reference): Bistrot de l'Oulette. As many of my favorite and most frequented spots, l'Oulette is located in the 4th arrondissement not far from Place Des Vosges and Chez Janou (bistro crawl anyone?). The venue has a slightly different feel from Janou - this is a no-frills kind of place with plain wooden chairs, minimal décor, and a relaxed ambiance. The people who dine here aren't looking to see or be seen; they want a tasty, low-stress meal, which is exactly what I received.

Heed the myth that you can wine and dine all night in the typical Parisian bistro. As per my experiences, many of these places want you in and out as soon as possible, especially if you're American (which I've become increasingly talented at disguising). L'Oulette, however, was an exception. Although there was only one waiter present this evening, I felt no competition for his service. He was quite attentive -- I would even go so far as to say he was happy, which in Paris is almost unheard of for anyone working in the service industry. Seems somewhat counterintuitive, but hey, that's Socialism. Stay tuned for my blog on politics...

Back to food. My meal was excellent from start to finish. I didn't feel hurried, and I was greeted by my waiter with a smile. Everything on the menu looked incredible, so admittedly my decision was quite difficult to make. I made it, though, and here's what I chose:

To begin, a shellfish "bisque" containing mussels, clams, and one other unidentified item, although it didn't really matter what it was because the soup was incredible. Just the perfect amount of cream, not too thick or overwhelming. The dish is garnished with parsley and topped with what is probably the French equivalent of Old Bay Seasoning.

Next came one of the best entrées I've had in a very, very long time. Below is a picture of some of the most savory and tender duck breast I've ever eaten. It's roasted and topped with a port sauce with a side of potatoes au gratin -- for those of you non-foodies, that's with cheese and cream.

I was rather impressed with the first two courses of my meal, which I found perfectly complementary. The third component of my "menu" (appetizer, entrée, and dessert for 33 Euro) was not entirely mine; my good friend Dan and I split the chocolate soufflé with raspberry center and the flaky pastry filled with caramelized apples and a side of Armagnac grani. The soufflé melted wonderfully as Dan and I jousted with our forks to compete for the last piece. My only complaint was the lack of actual raspberry - there was a raspberry sauce, which went well with the chocolate, but not as well as real fruit would have. The apple pastry was excellent albeit quite flaky, but hey, I knew that beforehand. The Armagnac, which I had never tasted before this evening, was relatively strong and tasted very alcoholic. I found it a bit harsh paired with the apple, although it was in an ice-like form, which balanced out the warmth of the pastry. The pictures of the two desserts are below. If you can't tell which is the soufflé and which is the pastry, best that you stop reading now and pick up a copy of Life for Dummies.

I thoroughly enjoyed my meal at a leisurely pace. Dan and I were the last ones in the restaurant, but our waiter didn't seem to mind. I'm excited to return to this new spot of mine, though the restaurant merits much more calm than I'm prepared to give. Then again, it's hard to remain calm in one of the most food-centric cities on earth...

Until next time!

Dine at Bistrot de l'Oulette:

38, Rue des Tournelles

75004 Paris

+33 1 42 77 78 83

Foie de Vietnam

It's still early days at La Flavoriser but if there is one thing that has already been established, it is the creator's penchant for foie gras. Though not a favorite of this contributor, I feel it is only fitting to make my finest foie experience the subject of this first post.

I am fortunate as well to have experienced foie gras at some of France's most respected establishments. However, my best and most memorable experience with it took place a good 9,000km away from Paris-- in Hanoi, Vietnam. May sound a bit strange at first but remnants of French colonial influence in Vietnam are everpresent, especially with respect to architecture and, of course, food. The man responsible for my fête de foie was Bobby Chinn.

A sort of cult figure, Chinn has established himself as the gastro version of an international man of mystery. Half Chinese and half Egyptian, born in New Zealand and educated in the US and UK, his multinational background is visible in the cooking at his namesake restaurant. While he is all about keeping the menu and atmosphere playful and fun (as proven in the restaurant "rules" at the bottom of the menu), his food is far from a joke. I found this out very quickly from the Non-H5N1 Rice Paper Wrapped Foie Gras, Mango and Ginger Sauce.

The rice paper, completely surrounding the generous but thinly sliced foie, was like the wrapping paper over a mindblowing present, except, well, edible and delicious. The combination of textures between the crispy rice paper and delicate foie was both clever and extremely well-executed. The sauces created a sweet/savory mix that still did not interfere with the intensity of the centerpiece. Perfect.

I remember the rest of the meal and subsequent hookah (perhaps an homage to Chinn's Egyptian roots) being great, yet that dish was the one true standout. Vietnam is undoubtedly home to some of the world's best street food, so I was a bit skeptical to pay more than a buck or two for dinner. However, Restaurant Bobby Chinn was well worth the "splurge" and I would recommend it to anyone visiting Hanoi. Just another reminder that some of life's great pleasures arrive when and where they are least expected.

Restaurant Bobby Chinn
1 Ba Trieu Street, Hanoi, VIETNAM

Guest Stars

I've invited some of my greatest influences to contribute to my blog -- consider them "guest stars." They are extremely well-traveled and well-dined, and they will share with you some of their food experiences that will make your mouth water. I'll let them remain anonymous unless they choose to reveal themselves. Until then, happy reading!

Giving Thanks, Gaining Kilos

I'm going a bit out of order, but I'd like to share with you one of my most memorable meals to date. As many of you know, I'm living in Paris until December, and my parents decided to spend our Thanksgiving here instead of in the Northwest suburbs of Philadelphia (as interesting as that may sound). My reservation-making skills had been put to the test -- could I find a restaurant special enough to replace our beautiful new dining room on one of my favorite holidays of the year? Yes, I could.

I decided upon Le Jules Verne, making the evening an official anti-Thanksgiving. Besides, what better way to give thanks than to flee the country for France and eat on top of the Eiffel Tower? At 21:00, I ascended up the dimly-lit private elevator, skipping the mobs of tourists waiting in the rain and cold below. At one hundred fifty-three meters, I was on top of the world. If I was thankful for anything that night, and it certainly wasn't the bill, it was for our table by the window -- even in the rain, I had never seen such a magnificent view of the city, overlooking the Seine and the right bank. And to top it all off, since I arrived on the hour, it meant that the light show was about to begin. I had a behind-the-scenes perspective.

I started the meal off extravagantly - warm cauliflower soup with bits of bacon and broccoli, herbs and spices, and a scallop topped with fresh cream and caviar (see top left). My jaw was steadily dropping as the meal progressed (although I had to raise it again in order to chew). Next came the entrée, a melt-in-your-mouth piece of filet mignon served saignant (get used to it) aside duck foie gras in a cognac and black truffle sauce. The triangular sculpture on top is a puffed potato chip, one of many served beside the steak. By now it has become quite clear that I fancy red meat (see above).

Just when I was beginning to think Alain Ducasse had outdone himself, our waiter brought out the pièce de la resistance - pistachio soufflé with confectioner's sugar. This dessert was ordered several hours in advance, but we couldn't possibly have anticipated what was coming. The picture I took is after several bites, because my hunger succeeded my desire for photography at that moment. I believe it's better this way, however, because you can see the inside of the soufflé and try to imagine how your taste buds would feel if it graced their presence (trust me, you can't). Finally, complements of the chef, we received parfaits of vanilla crème and thick chocolate mousse topped with cashews, vanilla macaroons, and dark chocolate with almonds (hidden behind the parfaits). Two light shows, five full stomachs, and several emptied bank accounts later, all I could say was, "DAMN."

Finally, it was time to take the elevator back down to earth. I reflected on my out-of-this-world meal (though probably not worth the price), and thanked my generous father for taking one for the team. As I exited the tower, I realized there was one more thing to be thankful for: it had stopped raining seconds before my new suede Prada boots hit the ground.

Dine at Le Jules Verne:

Tour Eiffel

75007 Paris, France

+33 1 45 55 61 44

Thankful for your Readership,

Amanda

Ce Soir...

Everyone who's spent a substantial amount of time in Paris has had the opportunity to survey the restaurant scene and choose his or her favorite bistro. Chez Janou is mine. It's the quintessential Parisian bistro on the corner of a hidden street near the Place des Vosges, and it's absolutely perfect. The menu is succinct but contains everything you'd ever crave. My almost-anorexic mother, vegetarian sister (we don't know where she came from), and carnivorous self all found something delicious to eat.

Now of course, this wasn't my first time dining at Chez Janou. I'd been recommended this restaurant by my trusty friend Zagat, as well as some friends who had lived in Paris during previous semesters. Tonight was probably my seventh time, to be approximate. I started with the ever-consistent tuna carpaccio with black olives and lemon garnish, followed by my go-to -- the entrecôte served saignant (between rare and medium-rare) with a side of a thinly-sliced potato "cake" au poivre. I didn't even mind not drinking red with my steak because the house white is so delicious.

I wish I had taken pictures, but if you've ever been to Chez Janou, you'd know that it's virtually impossible not to devour your food the minute it's served. Unfortunately, all I have is a lucid memory of this fabulous meal and a full stomach to accompany it. If and when you go to this bistro, arrive before 9:30 to sit outside -- the heat lamps will make up for the slight chill, the people-watching will keep you entertained, and the cuisine will be on point each and every time. And most importantly, if you're a foodie who dines out often, it won't break the bank. Three courses and wine for about 35 euro -- but I would pay double for this.

Dine at Chez Janou:

2 Rue Roger Verlomme

75003 Paris, France

+33 1 42 72 28 41

An Introduction

There are those who eat to live and others who live to eat. I have always considered myself the latter. I derive great pleasure from eating and an even greater one from sharing my favorite meals and recommendations with others. I'm certain that if you like food, you'll like what I have to say.

My name is Amanda and I've always had a passion for eating. Continually antagonized by my peers for spending hours taking notes on the Zagat guide, I have developed and refined my taste for food of all sorts -- I rarely discriminate. I sometimes wonder where this affinity has come from -- my mother rarely eats anything, and my father eats quite a bit of it-doesn't-matter-as-long-as-it-kills-the-craving. Though I would not consider myself picky according to anyone's standards, I do prefer some foods to others and am very confident about what I like. This will manifest shortly.

"Favoriser" means "to indulge" in French, so adding an "L" perfectly describes the direction I'm headed with this website. My goal is to convert all of those who are cuisine-indifferent into true foodies. And it doesn't hurt to make you salivate, either...