parigi...a day in the life of...

Couscous and a Courtesan

2011-01-03T09:39:00.000-08:00

We had a wonderful day today....met with Jim to do the shopping for dinner on Sunday. He took us to his favorite veggie vendor, and we placed our order to be delivered on Sunday. The lady that started the supper club with him 30 years ago, an American, placed the pork order, and then we finished up at the Monoprix for all the other items. Should be a fun menu.

After shopping, Jim invited us to lunch at his favorite couscous restaurant, and asked his longtime friend Suzy to join us, as it was her birthday. On our way there, he gave us a brief rundown on Suzy. She has lived quite the life. Born in Zurich to a poor family, she eventually made her way to Paris in the 60's, and that's when it gets really interesting. She was the courtesan to some of the most influential, and wealthy men in Europe. Given this is a G rated blog, I really can't say too much more.

She wasn't feeling well the day we met her, but in spite of that, she was simply fascinating. She arrived with her little long haired chihuahua dog, Lelo, who like her, had been rescued. She is in her 70s, but has the spirit of a 20 year old. She is in very good shape, and kind hearted. At first, I don't think she liked me very much, but eventually she came around. Very direct, and very funny, I could see why people would be drawn to her. She loves to eat good food, and even now loves a good party. If this is her when she is not in top form, I can only imagine what she is like when she is!

She told us about a group of friends who had been at her apt a few weeks ago, how one of the guests imbibed too much, and proceeded to stuff 50€ bills into her shirt. When she got undressed that night, 8 bills came flying out. She decided she was going to take the man's niece and her husband out do dinner with the money. This is just a perfect example of her fascinating life. She mentioned Bertrand Picasso, the nephew of the artist , and how she had bought a dog (another long haired chihuahua) for him to give to his kids. She is amazing.

Somehow in conversation, my eyes came up. She told me I had cat eyes, and had at least 30 more years to use them to get what I want. I didn't really know what to say to that, but I can tell you this...it sure made me feel pretty!

Once lunch was over, we said our good byes to Madame Suzy, and I told Jim how happy I was to have met her, and how I wished I could know more about her life. "I have a book she wrote about her life, and you can borrow it for your train ride to Nice.". I totally jumped on that, and left his apartment with the memoirs of Suzy Wyss in my bag. I felt pretty special to have been entrusted with this special book detailing her life. I had NO IDEA what I was in for. Let's just say, Paul Getty, a certain Prince of Monaco, and celebrities from all over the world have a chapter in her book. Unlike this blog, it is DEFINITELY not rated G!

Off to Nice tomorrow to celebrate New Year's with S and P. Cant wait!

Kisses,
Janice

Conti-ing our blessings, and a visit from the po-po to our apartment.

2011-01-02T02:35:00.000-08:00

Em and I are still high on life after our multi cultured dinner at Jim's, so we decide to make a pit stop at our favorite little bar, Conti. we are greeted by Juan, the waiter from Columbia, with kisses on both cheeks. It is so Cheers-like...you wanna go where everybody knows your name. well, not everyone does, but it IS nice to have at least one person who does!

Emily has made quite the impression on Steffan, the bartender from the previous night when she went to Conti. We sit down, and immediately some fruity concoction is delivered to our table, compliments of Steffan. There is lots of laughter, talking, and friendships being made all around.

We meet Sara, an Alliance Francaise teacher, and her friends. Sara is committed to only speaking French with us, and 2 hours later, we have improved significantly...or so it seems at least to us. Add two new friends to Facebook after tonight. Gotta love it!

So, we head back to our apartment, only to find the police coming out of the building next door. Feeling happy, we say bonsoir, and they say the same. From here it goes like this:

Police: something in French
Me: parlez Vous anglaise?
Police: yez...a leetle...do you leeeve ere?
Me: we are ere for ahh-lee-day (yes, I said it like that)is sometheeng wrong?
Police:yez, there eez someone shooteeng firework off wizout uh permeet. May we come to your apatmunt to eenspect it?
Me: oui, bien sur.

so up they come to "eenspect" our apartment. They look in the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, the terrace, and the closets. It appears we are not harboring any ilicit firework bandits. Thank god Roger wasn't here. He is known as pyro-provost for his love of all things fireworks related. I can only imagine if he had volunteered THAT to them! Theese could ave beeen bad.

So, ladies and gents...that is the latest from Paris. Tomorrow, planning the menu for dinner at Jim's, some sightseeing, and who knows what else.

A bientot,

Janice
Police: merci

Dinner at Jim's...friends, flirts, and food!

2010-12-28T02:17:00.000-08:00

So with our dinner plans confirmed, Emily and I head out to the metro to make our way to Jim's for dinner. The directions he gives are so detailed, there is virtually no room for error. I mean, he tells you how many steps to take when you exit the metro, how many to take once you hit the traffic light...DETAILED. Love it!

We arrive a few minutes early to find Jim perched on his stool,wearing an apron, with his guest list in hand. He says, "Hello, what's your name?" Gently chastising us for being early, he refuses to shake our hand, but rather bumps elbows. What? Where are we? This is so bohemian, so out there, but so friggin cool. We are in the middle of an ancient building, standing in this kitchen, with this Hemmingway like character.

More people arrive, he barks out introductions like a grandfatherly drill sergeant, and as the room fills, strangers quickly become friends...70 of us in total, from all parts of the world. I am sure there would be some fire code violation in the US, but crammed into this small area, somehow it works.

Soup's on...At 8 pm, the chef of the evening starts dishing out a hearty soup of vegetables pseudo pureed, and topped with creme fraiche. A giant bowl of sliced baguettes are also there to soak it all up. YUM! Elbow-to-elbow, we stand and eat. Now I know why you don't shake hands...you can't, your hands are full, but your elbows still can do the job. This is my theory, at least. I will have to ask him. This is unlike anything I have ever experienced.

Neither is my new friend Claude. Claude is apparently a frequent diner at Jim's, and gives the term flirt all new meaning. Charming, handsome, and a male version of a Cougar, he becomes my new BFF. Now, please know, I was not his only new BFF for the evening, as he was good at working the room. My other new friend Marla (from San Fran and Paris...half a year in each city...hate her!)informed me that he is always hitting on the girls at Jim's dinners. Whatever, he asks me to lunch, and for my phone number so he can show me Paris. Ooh-la-la! I am flattered, and a little amused. Please understand, this is sweet, harmless, innocent fun. All in fun, my friends, all in fun.

Main course is served: meat loaf with mushroom sauce, mashed potatoes, and ratatouille. Works for me! Huge portions, and very nice. Emily is making friends all over the room, too, and I sit back and smile. This is what life is all about. I need to remember this moment when I get so stressed out. This cute French girl comes up to me and says, you are American aren't you? DANG IT! She didn't even hear me speak! Am I really that obvious? Apparently so...she says she can tell because I smile so much. I give her my best demure, somber face, and she laughs, says that's much more French. I don't care. I am genuinely happy!

Ironically the dessert is apple tart and vanilla ice cream. As American as...well, you know.

An absolutely lovely evening. As we are getting ready to leave, I am thanking Jim. I can't leave well enough alone. Does he ever need help cooking? As a matter of fact he does. How long will I be in Paris? Would I like to cook next Sunday, January 2. Ahem...guess who is coming back from Nice to cook dinner for 70 people in Paris? You can't make this stuff up? I feel so unbelievably blessed.

Stay tuned.

Peace and love!
Janice

Oh happy day!

2010-12-27T14:02:00.000-08:00

So Sunday just keeps getting better. An adventure to Gare de Lyon (the train station from which I will be departing to Nice) gets me my tickets, and a bit of an understanding of where I will be going on Friday morning. A little complicated, I will be leaving 2 hours in advance, just to make sure I get on board. This is a peu nerve wracking, but what an adventure!

While we are getting on the train, we are entertained by a gentleman exuberantly playing Hello Dolly in the passageway on his accordion. Emily starts the trend by giving him a little tip, others follow suit, and the next thing you know, people are dancing (including the musician)on the metro platform...ahh, Paris, you gotta love it!

On to the Puce de Vanves...another flea market. Open every weekend of the year, rain or shine, we head out to search for some treasures. I find a painting of a young boy that speaks to me for 60 Euro, and Em finds a couple of gifts for her parents. We come upon a gentleman named Marcel, and he asks us in French if we are looking for anything in particular. No, just browsing, we say, and then in English he asks if he can do anything for us. Feeling giddy and good for the first time in days, I say, "Oui, have a happy day!". He smiles, and breaks into song, singing, Oh, Happy Day! Laughter, two cheek kisses, and a photo later, we have made a new friend, Marcel.

By now, we are starving,so we search out a place for lunch. Emily has a checklist of foods she must have before leaving Paris. Top of the list: Croque Madame. Mission accomplished. I have entrecoute de boeuf with mashed potatoes and peppercorn sauce. The first meal I have had in three days, it was good, but quite tough. The potatoes and sauce were just what the doctor ordered, though. Pure comfort food.

Back to Our apartment to see if we won the lottery...the food lottery, that is. You see we are on the wait list for Jim Haynes Sunday Supper Club. You may remember from last year we joined a group of strangers in a Paris apt for dinner. Well, my friend Karol Ann Thieszan told me about another such group, held at Jim's place. He has been hosting Sunday Suppers at his place for over 30 years. Here is a link to it: http://www.jim-haynes.com/gallery/index.htm. Well, we won, we won! We are headed there for dinner!

Oh what a difference a day makes!

2010-12-27T03:33:00.000-08:00

If you told me yesterday how today was going to go, I probably wouldn't have believed you.

You may have noticed the distinct sound of crickets resonating in the Parigi blog. Well, that would be due to the fact that for the last 4 days I was down with the grippe, AKA the flu in French. Man, it took me down. I tried to fight it, especially with limited days with Roger, and Emily arriving, but it kicked my ass! I had no energy, no appetite, and at times no will to live. Ok, maybe that is a bit on the exaggerated side, but that is only because I am trying to be the dramatic french woman. : ). Emily is responsible for bringing the life saving pill form serum called musinex to save me, and I am forever in her debt.

So today actually began kind of sadly...Roger went home. First time he has left Paris without me. First time I have stayed behind without him. Sad. Really. Emotional. He texted me from the plane that he was feeling better though, because our favorite AA flight attendant, Pierre,and I quote, "ees awn boward. Awl ees gude.". End quote. Thank you, Pierre. You don't know how pleasant you have made our trips to Paris, and especially this one, without doing anything but being there. Thank you!

OK, so moving on...I have been given an amazing and unique opportunity to spend NYE in Nice, France this year. My sweet friend Sebastien and his partner Patrick are there visiting his sister, and have invited me to come there for the new year celebration. Roger was on board, and my amazing parter, Chad DEMANDED that I go, so, all I had to do was figure out the logistics.

Eurorail ticket...check
AA ticket changed...check
Apartment rental extended...check

Guess who is going to Nice on Friday? Can't wait for this adventure! Talk about making up for lost time!

There's more to tell, but you'll have to wait until demaine...

Merry Late Christmas!

Cooking class

2010-12-21T17:43:00.000-08:00

For those of you who know me, you know I am a bit of a night owl. I prefer sleeping in and staying up late, so tonight's cooking class was right up my alley.

When I woke up this morning, my throat was a little scratchy, and my head hurt a little. No time for getting sick, but I also thought I should take it easy so I didn't really get sick. Spent most of the day staring out the window at the Notre Dame cathedral, and people watching. Roger made lunch, and then i headed out to my cooking class.

My friend Paula Lambert who owns The Mozzarella Company in Dallas recommended the class which she had taken at the Electrolux Kitchen in the Palais de Tokyo. http://www.art-home-Electrolux.com I usually try to take a cooking class while I am in Paris, and this sounded really interesting.

Side note...Lisa Kelley, thank you! You sending me that NY Times article saved my butt! I couldn't log on to my home computer where all my info about the class was stored, but that article mentioned the Palais de Tokyo, and it all worked out...thanks a ton for thinking of us!

So the concept is Electrolux (think Viking in the US) is the sponsor for this workshop, and they are also partners with this pop up restaurant called Nomiya (think like an uber upscale 48 Nights) with an amazing view of the Eiffel Tower, like you are up there with it, nothing obstructing it. There is a vegetable garden, and then the restaurant. The restaurant only seats 12, reservations are only available 1 month in advance, and it is only open for about one year in total. This is something pretty special. Since I didn't know to try to make reservations, going to the class was the next best thing.

When I walk in, Raphael, our instructor for the evening asks if we have met before. I say I don't think so, but he looks familiar to me, too. More in a minute...it really IS a small world!

Here is the menu: roasted chicken with white wine jus, celery root puree with chestnuts, sweet potatoes with sauce verde, endive salad, roasted parsnips and roasted chervil root. Dessert was a chocolate-orange mousse, caramelized orange clafoutis, and kalamata olive ice cream. Very interesting.

We broke into teams, and I went for the protein station. I don't often debone chicken, or break it down for that matter, because we don't have much call for anything other than the breast at Parigi. The guy next to me, a cutie named Paul (spoke no English), broke that bird down FAST! The adorable girl on the other side of me, Vivian from Taiwan, was a little squeamish about the whole thing. She did good though in the end, especially given that she is mostly vegetarian. We deboned that bird, and seared it, and finished it in the oven. Not my most challenging class, but definitely enjoyable. A little bonus was that I asked what Raphael was planning to do with the bones. He said throw them away. I asked if I could have them, he said yes, and voila! We have a chicken stock in the making! That is SO going to come in handy for Christmas eve dinner!

After everyone finished their dish, we plated it, and sat down for dinner. Going around the room we told where we were from, and what we did. That is when Raphael and in figured it out. He makes chocolate for his profession, and I had met him at the little gourmet boutique downstairs from our apartment last year. I bought some of his white chocolate with peppercorns for Chad...crazy! I am telling you this is one small big city.

All-in-all, great day. New friends (gotta love Facebook), and a nice evening doing something totally different.

Night for now!

Boots, baguette, and a blog...

2010-12-20T16:05:00.000-08:00

So, we did something different this year with our sleep ritual. We did that flight from NYC, instead of our usual direct flight from DFW. What that means is that we left early, so early that our 12 hour opportunity of sleep was not possible. No biggie...we stayed up for the first leg of the trip, and then slept about 4 hours from NYC to Paris.

So, upon our arrival into Paris, we acted like we were fairly rested. We did our aforementioned shopping for provisions, walked around St. Germaine because, once again, I brought the wrong shoes, and Roger, being my sweet, considerate husband, knows that my feet determine the outcome of the trip. If the feet ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

Well, no success with the shoe search, but we were tired, so we did the non-ritual go-back-to the-apartment, take-a-nap thing. SO not us. We slept for three hours, woke up at 8, and went back to sleep at 12:00 am. BACK ON SCHEDULE! By accident, we figured it out! We got up at 8, and started the day at 10.

Okay, if you ever come to Paris, which I really hope you will, there is this app called Paris Metro. It ROCKS! All you have to do is put in your starting Metro location, your ending Metro destination, and it will tell you what you need to do, where to transfer, where to get off, etc. SO COOL! We used it to go to St. Ouen flea market. Monday is the last day of the flea market for the weekend, and given that next weekend is Christmas, it was our only opportunity.

It's official....I have my first pair of rubber boots ever purchased at a flea market. Roger picked them out. Also the first...Roger picking out shoes for me. He did good! Given the unlikely weather including snow,they were a real necessity, and for 25 Euro, they were the deal of the year. They kept my feet warm, and dry. Thanks Rog! And thanks to the nice guy who sold them to us.

From the flea market, we went to THE FLEA MARKET, the reason we had ventured to St. Ouen...treasures. We found a new (old, really)coffee pot (sorry Parigi family, it requires polishing), and had lunch at Paul Bert restaurant, an institution since 1953

Lovely lunch: shared onion soup and Croque Madame (why are we so afraid of the fried egg in America?)followed by coffee and ba ba rhum for dessert. Diet, what diet? Hopefully the walking will make it even!

From there, Rog headed back to the apt to do some work, and I stayed behind to look for more treasures. However, be it known...they all leave after about 2:00 on Monday. They have been there for 3 days straight, and (especially when it is as cold as it is, they close it down early).

I hit the metro, and take the Les Halles exit. Thinking that is where all the cool cooking
stores are. I feel like a beacon...accidentally, I find all of them! Some cool things, but long lines. I will come back with Emily. She arrives on Thursday. (for those of you who don't know Emily, she is my little protege at the Culinary Institute of America, and I like to think of her as mini me.)

Rog calls, says he is done with his work, will I meet him? Tell him where I am, (now BHV...think Borders meets Niemans, meets Elliots Hardware, meets Michaels, meets Sur la Table/Williams Sanoma...it's ALL there). I am not done, but great visit for Emily and me to revisit. He says he will give me a head start, because it is so far away, and knows it will take me a while to get there. CHALLENGE! Oh, hell no, I will be there in record time.

On my way there (sans help from my map app, thank you very much) I proceed to look in the store windows, walk casually, and get to our destination within 1 hour. He is shocked. I am not the only one who knows my way around Paris!

So, we meet up at Conti, see our old friend Olson (the wire haired terrier, 12 years old now who rules the corner of Rue de Buci), and have some wine. Our young waiter is cool...something familiar about him. Further conversation confirms we DO know each other...he worked at another bistro we went to a year ago. He remembered us because Roger speaks Spanish, from Caracas, the whole Parigi connection, and I remembered him because he was going to Le Cordon Bleu, Paris, and was Colombian. Talk about a small world! He feels compelled to buy us a shot...Tequila. No one panic. Strange to do a shot of Patron in Paris, but hey, Juan, from Colombia knew it was ok.

From there, Rog goes for the oysters (tradition by now), we get some flowers, and a baguette. We are headed home.

Now we are home on the Seine, and the song playing is "nothing's too good for my baby.". Rog and I agree on something.

Merry Christmas!

Travel delights

2010-12-19T13:21:00.000-08:00

25% of the flights arriving in Europe have been cancelled. Our 6:30 am arrival was the last flight taken in at CDG from the US. Whew! We made it! So, we claim our baggage, go outside to meet our driver... no driver. We think about panic, but decide not to. Instead, we call our Paris contact from Chez Vous, and he answers...VERY pleasantly! He tells us to hop in a taxi, and he will meet us at the apartment in about 45 minutes.

We go to the taxi queue, a man in front of us gets in the front taxi, so we start loading up in the second taxi. The man in the first taxi doesn't get in, half of our bags are in our taxi, and the first taxi guy gets into a scuffle with our driver, very aggressively telling him we are his ride, not his. Our driver gives in, and we load up in the first taxi. The chief in charge of managing the taxis apologizes. We are delirious... A little sleepy, a little anxious, and just relieved to be in The City of Lights. "C'est bonne, c'est Paris," we tell the chief. He laughs, and says, "oui, it IS Paris...everything IS good."

45 minutes later we pull in front of our ancient building(500 years old or so), located on The Seine, and across the street from Notre Dame. The bells are ringing, the snow is falling, and life is good. I start to pay the driver, and he looks at me like I am crazy. I just gave the man 50 Mexican pesos. Oops!

We enter our building, go up a flight of stairs, and are absolutely blown away. I know I say this every time, but this apartment is GORGEOUS! The bedroom is in the back, away from the street, the kitchen is galley style, the dining room is huge, and the living room has the million dollar view of the Notre Dame cathedral. The snow makes everything so cozy.

We head out into the snow for provisions,stock up on the first day usuals: baguette, ham, eggs, butter, cheese, wine, beer,crackers and sardines. Project Paris is underway. Stay tuned...More to come!

Heart Healthy Recipe Testers Needed!

2010-01-15T13:13:00.000-08:00

OK, here is the recipe. Please let me know how it works!

Spicy Baked Chicken with Cucumber-Ginger Relish over Millet Salad
Serves 4

(4) 4 ounce chicken breasts, pounded
1 T. Cayenne
1 T. Granulated Garlic (Powdered Garlic)
1 T. Cumin
1 Cup Water

2 Cups Millet, toasted
4 Cups Vegetable Broth (low sodium)
3 Scallions, chopped
½ Cup Cilantro, picked
½ Cup Edamame, shelled
2 T. EVOO
Pinch of Sea Salt

1 Cucumber, chopped
2 T. Pickled Ginger, diced

Preheat oven to 450.
Toast the millet in a dry skillet for five minutes before cooking to give it a delicious nutty flavor. To cook, use two parts liquid to one part millet. Combine the liquid and toasted millet in a medium saucepan, bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, cover, and cook until the grains are tender, about 25 minutes. Remove from heat, and spread out on a platter to cool the grains. Once cooled, add the scallions, cilantro, edamame, EVOO, and salt. This can be made up to 4 hours in advance.
While the millet is cooking, place the chicken in a skillet. Combine the garlic, cayenne, and water. Pour this mixture around the chicken, and place in oven. Cook about 15-20 minutes, or until chicken is done.
Combine the cucumber and ginger in a bowl.

To plate, place ¼ of the millet salad in the center of the plate. Place a chicken breast on top of the millet, and top with the cucumber and ginger.

2010...what's in "store"

2010-01-02T08:36:00.000-08:00

What an exciting time it is... a new year to begin new things. Lists to make, goals to set, and the optimistic outlook of a fresh start.

One of the things we are planning is an on-line store offering some of our most requested food products. Think Pesto, Caesar Dressing, Balsamic Dressing, Truffle Ranch, BLT Dip, Tapenade, and even the Chocolate Glob. It will be a work in progress, but we think it could be a great way to reach people who can't make it to us.

We are also working on our plans for La Cachette and Secret Sunday Suppers. Probably will start out with a once a month dinner, and see where it goes from there.

What are your plans for 2010? Whatever they include, we wish you the best of luck with them, and hope for a healthy and prosperous new year for you and yours.

Cheers!
Janice and Chad

Macaroons at le cordon bleu

2009-12-25T03:37:00.000-08:00

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

Secret Sunday Supper..

2009-12-21T02:03:00.000-08:00

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!

Duck, Duck, Goose!

2009-12-20T07:04:00.000-08:00

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

Sleepless in Paris...

2009-12-18T17:26:00.001-08:00

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

I’m Just Givin Thanks, Man...

2009-11-16T08:46:00.000-08:00

"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.

i guess i am on a french kick...

2009-11-13T01:21:00.000-08:00

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

Some days are French-er than others...

2009-11-12T09:57:00.000-08:00

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

Food and Art

2009-11-10T06:26:00.000-08:00

"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.

Salisbury Steak-a-thon

2009-11-08T19:14:00.000-08:00

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

Life as a bar back

2009-11-07T12:18:00.000-08:00

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

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

2009-11-05T13:29:00.000-08:00

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!