Friday, December 25, 2009

Macaroons at le cordon bleu

So today was my last day of obligatory tasks while in Paris. I had my macaroon class at LCB.

The day started out a little bumpy when I couldn't access the Internet at Chez Provost, and was panicking about finding my metro stop. You really don't want to be late for a class. I knew the first leg of the metro, so while I boarded it, I called Chad, he found the name of the second stop, and voila! I was on time. Whew!

So, here I am in the kitchen classroom...There were 8 of us in the macaroon class, plus Chef and Leeanne, the awesome translator. We watch Chef begin the demonstration: whip the egg whites, add the powdered food coloring and bit-by-bit the sugar; mix the powdered sugar and almond flour; fold the two together, make sure it gets to this cool, "shiny" stage, and then put it into a pastry bag to pipe out. Easy, right?

In cooking, there is a term, Mis en Place, which literally translates to everything in it's place. It is an important term,and it is instrumental in making sure that things turn out correctly, because you have taken the steps to ensure they will. There is a reason I am giving you this little bit of background...please continue.

So, we get split up into two groups, and I decide to be adventurous, and go with the French speaking Grande Meres, rather than the English speaking Dutch, and Japanese ladies. Oh boy!

You know me, I wanted my macaroons to be perfect, and the fact that I had to share the first step with a group made me a little tense. The fact that these French ladies were a little bit messy and a little bit bossy, added to my stress. But hey, when in Rome, right? Anyway, we started by separating our eggs. This took a little time, as my new grand meres were a little slow. So while they were doing that, I started to measure out the ingredients for the rest of the recipe. Baking is usually measured by weight, and for the outcome to be perfect, you need to do so.

So while the egg separating is going on, I start to put the sugar on the scale. As GMs are finished with the eggs, they look to see what I am up to. They are clucking something in French, all with a bit of an agitated tone, and I am trying to follow them. I hear, "non!", and one of them actually spanks my hand with a little slap! I watch while my 140 grams of sugar that I have just weight out gets dumped back in the bin. What the...? Apparently they are not familiar with the differences between the two sugars (one powdered, one granular), and well, let's just say, it took Leeanne coming to my rescue to get it all sorted out.

Anyway, I survived, and the results were amazing. I had no idea how to make macaroons before this class, and I gotta say, I can't wait to bring them back to Parigi. The possibilities are endless, and you WILL be seeing them on the menu soon.

Bon Appetit!
Janice

Monday, December 21, 2009

Secret Sunday Supper..

Last night we had a dining experience I don't think any of us will ever forget. Roger, Emily, and I went to dinner at a private home in Paris, with about 14 strangers from all over.

The concept is simple: you make your reservation, they let you know if they have availability, and then (if you are lucky enough to get in), you show up to be wined and dined on a 10 course tasting menu, paired with amazing wines.

This special evening was created by our hosts from The Hidden Kitchen, Laura and Braden, two Americans living in Paris. When they aren't wowing a bunch of strangers in their Paris apartment with superb food and wine, they help food retailers state-side bring in French products. I gotta tell you, I am A Li-ttle jealous!

The dinner began with an amuse that was a sage-Bombay Sapphire granita topped with a fried sage leaf that had somehow been dredged in anchovy dust.

Then, here is what followed:

Celery Root Soup with Clementine, Lovage, and Sumac Croutons...Grated Roquefort

Beet and Potato Carpaccio with Savory Fennel Porridge...Dehydrated Olive and Toated Pistachio Dust

Sauteed Sea Bass with New England Style Fish Chowder, Parsley Oil and Housemade Oyster Cracker

Palate Cleanser (Their play on a Mint Julep)... Whiskey Jello, Lime and Mint Sorbet, and then a fresh mint leaf

Veal Meatball with house made Linguini and White Truffle Beurre Blanc

Crispy Pork Belly with Parsnip and Walnut Puree and Pickled Chilies

Brussels Sprout Salad

Almond Cake with Cacao Nib Ice Cream

Mignardises (Rice Crispy Treat, Beignets, Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup, Jellied Cranberry and Lime)

All in all AMAZING!

They did all of this out of a tiny kitchen, about the size of The Parigi Pied-a-Terre kitchen...hmmm, can someone say Secret Sunday Suppers, coming soon to Dallas? Uh, you betcha!

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Duck, Duck, Goose!

Bonjour~

It is a quiet Sunday morning in Paris, and I am getting ready to head out the door to the Sunday market on St. Germaine.

Yesterday was a big, fat day of liver. Goose, and duck, and terrines, oh my! I took my class at LCB, and learned quite a bit. It was my first time to really prepare a liver. I will spare you the details, unless you would like to know, and we will keep that to an email, I think.

The chef was the same chef I had a my spring fish course, but this class was much more of a demonstration class with the exception of the liver prep part. He wanted to make it clear how the animals are raised, and brought up a really good point: Ducks are pigs. I had forgotten this, but looking back on my childhood, I remember by duck, Daffy, was a huge snarf-a-saures. In French, they even call the duck the glutton. The duck has no problem eating and eating. The part that is a little problematic for me is the last two weeks. It is here where they are more than encouraged, let's just say. I don't know, jury is still out on my whole mindset on this one. I have an opinion for geese, but not gonna share that one right now.

Anyway, after class, I came back to Parisian Chez Provost, and met Emily, who just flew in from NYC, where she is a culinary student at the CIA. Roger, the tour guide, made the plan for the afternoon, and we headed off to Rue du Bac, and Le Bon Marche. I think I have mentioned before...that place is Neimans of the food markets. The most beautiful food, presented like jewels.

The Bresse Chicken is my latest fascination. Complete with it's head and tail feathers, this is said to be the finest tasting chiken in the world. I plan to find out. Christmas dinner menu has one course determined.

Ok, as many of you know, my search for the perfect frites is a quest I take on each year in Paris. I think we found a pretty good one. The shape was strange, but it tasted of full-on potato. It looked like the cutter used was V shaped. Anyone have a clue what I am talking about? Is this some illusive potato cutting gadget that I have been unaware of until this trip?

Speaking of potatoes, and chicken, here's a new one for you: Roasted chicken with thyme Potato Chips made by our very own Frito Lay. Sounds strange, I know. But don't try them...no one can eat just one.

Today we are going to the flea market at St. Ouen. If I can get anyone to wake up, that is. I think I will give them until the end of this post, and then, I am heading to the green market on St. Germaine to explore.
Cheers!
Janice

Friday, December 18, 2009

Sleepless in Paris...

Bonsoir, my friends...

It is the dreaded first night in Paris. Dreaded because it is the night of the strange sleep cycle. Went to bed a 7:30, woke up at 1:00. I have rearranged the apartment to fit my preferences, perused the cupboards for anything interesting that we should be using, and organized the kitchen to my liking. Doing all of this while tip toeing around like some cat burglar so I don't disturb the neighbors below. Typical first night in Paris.

We arrived yesterday to snow in Paris. Ok, this city is magical enough, but you add snow, and it becomes even more beautiful. A trip via taxi from CDG, and we were walking into our home-away from home…check it out: http://www.alacarte-paris-apartments.com/St-Germain-Magic.html.

The apartment is lovely. It is located in a small ancient building with a beautifully landscaped courtyard. It is crazy quiet, and so far, I have found no one to spy on. There are windows that are across from us, which belong to someone, so hopefully I will get some action tomorrow morning. However, unless they are up super early, I probably won't see much then either, as I am heading to my Le Cordon Bleu Foie Gras Class which begins at 9:00 sharp. I can't wait.

So on that note, I am going to say good night. I am going to go attempt to get myself to sleep again.

See you tomorrow.
Janice

Monday, November 16, 2009

I’m Just Givin Thanks, Man...

"After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one's own relatives."

-
Oscar Wilde

I always get excited (and as I get older, nostalgic) this time of year. Thanksgiving is the kickoff of the holiday season, and that means one thing and one thing only to me; family. I am fortunate enough to be a member of a good ol’ fashion Southern family. For those of you not familiar, my sincerest sympathies cuz there ain't no family like a good ol' Southern family. Down South, our blood is thicker than glue. In fact, ask me where my passion for cooking comes from, and I will answer you in two words; Sunday Supper.

Growing up, Thanksgiving meant running around in the backyard with my cousins, watching Cowboys football with my Dad and uncles, and of course eating eating AND eating. I am fortunate to have cousins that are close in age with me, and our close bonds that exists today is a direct reflection of those special times. We grew up together over those meals. As adults, we have looked after each other because of those meals. Heartbreak, personal struggles, finishing school, finding jobs, military deployment, raising families. Whatever it was, we have always done it with the love and support of each other.

As we have grown up, the times that all of us are together have lessened. I may see one cousin this weekend, another the next, but all at the same time, only the holidays. This will be the second consecutive Thanksgiving that I will be hugging a cousin goodbye before he leaves to fight in Afghanistan. Hayden last year, Weston this year.


He would do anything for me, give me the shirt off his back, take a bullet for me, follow me to hell. Name the expression, and its true. I love my family, and I give thanks for for what they mean to me, and what I mean to them.

Josh, Allison, Weston, Hayden, and Alex – I Love You Guys. See ya'll in about a week. Hayden – be safe and we’ll do it all again next year.

Friday, November 13, 2009

i guess i am on a french kick...

So tonight we catered a party at One Arts Plaza for our friends Emily and Matt.  They live in one of the penthouse apartments in this magnificent building, along with Logan and Mulberry (their dog and cat respectively).

WOW, what a view, what a scene, what a city!  I cannot tell you how proud I am to live in Dallas.  You have read (or if you haven't, go back and read the previous post) how much I love the culture of Paris.  I can honestly say, Dallas is doing some VERY French things.  I AM PROUD of what is going on downtown.  With the help of  Ms. Lucy Crow Billingsly (who loves the Parigi peach cobbler, BTW), downtown Dallas is turning in to the most amazing arts district in the country.

The view from our venue looked over the Winspear Opera House, the Wyly Theatre, and the Booker T. Washington School for the Performing Arts, along with the ancient Methodist Church that is being built back to its original glory.  IT IS ABOUT TIME, DALLAS! Awesome!

I left the party at about 6:59 in the good hands of our staff, Rosie, Chris and Wesley.  It was a beautiful evening, and I rolled down the windows.  The sounds of the church bells from Cathedral Guadalupe were ringing like Notre Dame!  There was traffic.  I didn't care...there were church bells!  Once again, I was transported.

Bisous!  Janice
Janice

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Some days are French-er than others...

Living in Dallas, one might not think of the similarities our great city has to Paris.  I say pish-posh.  You can work to have a French experience here if you try.

My favorite city in the world is Paris, France.  I love the food, the history, the culture, the architecture, and the people.  Yes, the people, too!

Yesterday, I felt very French.  It started out that I wore heels.  Those of you who know me, know that I wear my clogs way too much.  They're comfy, reliable, and easy to slip on.  But, they are not the most feminine shoe.  Being a French woman is all about being feminine.

Secondly, I spent time at our Global Headquarters.  The Parigi global headquarters are located in The Argyle apartments across the street from Parigi.  It is also known as the pied a terre.  French for, "foot on the ground", a pied a terre is a small living unit usually located in a large city some distance away from an individual's primary residence.  In our case, it is part office, part test kitchen, part Secret Sunday Supper venue, and part guest house.

Roger and I spend our Christmas in Paris each year.  We rent an apartment, and really try to pretend we are French, if just for the week.  We have decorated the pied a terre in the style of the apartments in which we stay.  Think chandeliers, gilded mirrors, gently used furniture, an old gated elevator, and a city vibe, given the location.  More to come on this little gem in future blogs.

The third thing that happened to make my day feel French was these three ladies that came in for a bite yesterday afternoon.  They were dressed in their Muslim headscarves, and spoke very little English.  Not sure where they were from, but communicating with them in English was not an easy task.  Finally I asked, "parlez vous Francaise?"  Upon which one of the ladies replied, "oui."  From there, we were able to get the order placed, and served them pommes frites, soupe au legume et poulet, and soupe au tomate et creme.  Now, I don't speak French well, but man, I gotta tell you, it was cool to be able to find a way to communicate, and doing it in French was really exciting for me.

Lastly, my French day concluded with a trip to Eatzi's for bread.  In Paris, people walk everywhere, and you see them carrying their baguettes with them, usually with the tip of it broken off because it takes serious self control to not take a nibble when  you get it from the boulangerie.  Anyway, walking to and from Eatzi's with my baguette in hand, the busy street cars whizzing by, and walking back into that precious little cafe called Parigi, I was transported.  With a skip in my step, a smile on my face, I thought, this ain't so bad.  I may not live in Paris, but Paris can live in me, and I can let my imagination take me there without too much work.

So next time you are longing to be in Paris, but the time or ticket prices won't allow it, come see us at Parigi.  We will help take you there.

à bientôt...janice

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Food and Art

"When you feel like you have made something that has meant enough to someone for them to really bring themselves to it, and pour themselves into it, and make something out of it that you really could never have intended - I really believe that fifty percent of art is the perception of the listener... When you make something that wasn't there ten minutes ago, I feel like that puts you closer to something bigger than you."

--Jeff Tweedy


As chefs, we romanticize the idea that our motivations are purely intrinsic. Unlike the waitstaff, we don't necessarily interact with the guests. Therefore, we have removed ourselves from the feedback and reactions they have of our food. We don't need a pat on the back because we are confident enough in ourselves. Well, that's a lie...

Whether we like it or not, we measure ourselves by our plates. In actuality, we thrive on it. It's an obsession akin to the mad rush at the news stand when the latest issue of US Weekly pops up - who's getting divorced, who cheated, what's Beyonce wearing to the Grammys?! We wanna know it all. Just as a pro golfer can tell you the weather conditions, green speeds, and club selection of every shot, of every hole they have ever played in their career, a chef can identify every plate and every bowl from their life in a kitchen. Thirteen years of cooking and thousands of plates later, I can tell you what you and everyone at your table ate on any given night - what substitutions were made, what the steak temperatures were, how long it took me to get the food to the table, and of course, what was left on the plates when they came back. ALL OF THEM!

It took me a long time to appreciate the art of cooking. Sure, people would refer to me as an artist all the time, but I thought they were silly. Don't they know that I just peel potatoes and boil water for a living? And I'm not even the fastest potato peeler person in the kitchen! And artist? Heck, I couldn't even paint my name if given a blank canvas and a weeks worth of drawing classes.

Over time, however, the comparisons have become too obvious for me to ignore. Every plate, every menu, every nightly special; the reality is, I am "painting" my plates. I strive for each plate to be a masterpiece. I am putting a piece of myself in every plate that I touch, allowing for any and all to make their own interpretations.

It is a bond I share with everyone that comes into the restaurant. Food, similar to other artforms, can transcend you to a time and place gone by. It can invoke feeling and emotion for you that the chef could have never purposefully intended - grits like Grandma's, spaghetti just like Mama's.

The plate is my canvas. Food is my medium, though some (Janice) would say its pickling.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Salisbury Steak-a-thon

Today we made Salisbury Steak.  Why would we do this, you might ask?  Sounded homey, and we have never done it before, so why not?

Ground beef, and onions, and bread crumbs, and mushrooms, and eggs...oh my! 

My first memory of this dish was when I was a child in some daycare kind of thing.  I remember really liking it.  It was mild, not too beefy...thinking back it tasted like veal, but God knows I didn't know what veal tasted like when I was 5ish.  I am pretty sure that was a frozen dinner then, but the ones we made today were a far cry from frozen.  Adding the demi, more mushrooms, and serving it over mashed potatoes...yummy!
 
So, my question is this:  Is Salisbury Steak retro enough to be cool?  I would love your thoughts on this. 

I love it how things go out, and come back in.  Look at Deviled Eggs.  We put them on our menu for a fun little bite, and now they are one of our most requested apps.  Who knew?  Now, granted, Jose is doing some pretty amazing things with the deviled eggs...think guacamole, think smoked salmon with capers, think pesto.  So, they are tricked out deviled eggs, but they are still deviled eggs.

Tell me what you think, and what are some of your favorite foods that we could update and bring back.

Blog soon,
Janice

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Life as a bar back

Last night I had the pleasure of working with Robert behind the bar.   Dressed like a server in all black, not chef attire, it was kind of interesting to hear people who didn't know who I was, make comments on the menu, the art, and each other.  It's a little like being a fly on the wall.  Thankfully I didn't get swatted.

We are really excited about building our bar business.  We have a small bar to begin with, so it's not going to grow massively, but we are going to have some fun experimenting with new drinks, new garnishes, and the like.

I went to this place in Chicago called The Violet Hour. http://www.theviolethour.com/  Amazing.  They make their own bitters, ice cubes that are specific to the drink they are serving, and carry no major label spirits.  Only small batch, boutique vodkas, gins, etc.  That is dedication.  You feel as if you have stepped back in time to the roaring 20s.  Check it out next time you are there.

So, tonight, I think I am going to do a repeat performance.  Help Lacy out behind the bar.  Who knows what nuggets of wisdom I may pick up from our patrons.  Can't wait to find out.

Cheers!
Janice

Thursday, November 5, 2009

hi-hoe the dairy-oh...to market we will go

Chad and I are headed to the annual Friends of the Farmers Market Hoedown.  We will be serving up Sloppy "Bo" sandwiches...kind of like a Sloppy Jo, but made with Bolognese sauce...using sausage from Dallas based Old World Sausage Company...http://dfmfriends.org/hoedown.html 
Check it out!