A new star at L'Étoile

Intense, explosive flavors and imaginative fare await diners at Joel Robuchon’s newest addition to the Paris restaurant scene, L’Atelier Etoile de Joel Robuchon. Situated in the lower level of the Drugstore Publicis at the Etoile, the bright red and black space is already full of glittery Las Vegas-style drama. But the real scene is what’s on the plate and what happens to your palate with each pleasurable bite.

As we were nearly finished with our multi-course tasting lunch yesterday one of my lunch companions said in disbelief “This must be what it feels like to take LSD! The reds are more red, everything is more focused, more extreme.”  I second that.

The menu offers some welcoming Robuchon classics, many dating back to the 1980’s and the early days of Jamin. But with Japanese chef  Yosuke Suga in charge an entirely new line of Asian-inspired aromas and flavors share the limelight. Suga previously served as head chef at the Atelier branches in New York and Taipei, and is a member of the very tightly knit group of Robuchon chefs who travel the world to make sure each of the 10 Ateliers stay on top of the game.

The lunch served as a case study as to how old dishes can become new again. Once a dish is perfected – as only Robuchon can do – it can live on forever. His classic creation of caviar in lobster jelly, topped with cauliflower cream offers an explosion accompanying every bite, the magical grains of caviar almost suspended in the rich jelly, and the cauliflower cream serving to intensify and smooth out flavors at the same time. Served in tiny glass bowls with a clear glass lid the presentation alone would be sufficient drama.

Another specialty not to be ignored is the penetrating bite of smooth and pungent foie gras set in a dense port jelly, topped with a soothing Parmesan cream. Mouthfilling, intense, unforgettable.

Joel’s classic potato and truffle salad has been turned inside-out, and here appears as a beautiful architectural offering, with smooth curls of foie gras, paper- thin shards of toast, slim discs of truffles, thick slices of potatoes,  shavings of Parmesan and just a few whispers of arugula. The textures and flavors walk arm in arm. I would have loved the dish more if the potatoes had been warm.

Chef Suga’s addition of Les Shishitots – tiny, thin-skinned Japanese peppers  that are slightly sweet and barely spicy – gets a big winter welcome when any touch of greenery on the plate demands applause. It’s hard to pick a best taste of the day here, but the little peppers were pierced with wooden skewers and laced between meaty mushrooms cooked to perfection on their flat plate “plancha.” A tiny dollop of brilliant green, extra-mild wasabi mousse topped it all off. I could have easily gone for a second portion. (Photo)

But then what about the salsify ? Who knew salsify could taste so great! The theme of many of the newer dishes here seems to be a lot of rectangles and squares, and in the case of the much maligned and ignored salsify, the rectangles of the winter root vegetable are lined up side-by-side and topped with golden, crispy salsify chips.

L’Atelier Etoile de Joel Robuchon, Publicis Drugstore, 133, avenue des Champs Elysées, Paris 8. Tel : + 33 1 47 23 75 75. www.joel-robuchon.com Open daily. Lunch reservations accepted. Dinner reservations at 6:30 only. Small tastes from 14 to 65 euros. Nine-course tasting menu, 150 euros.

Saturne: a keeper

Too much ink has already been spilled over Saturne, one of a handful of current cult restaurants in Paris. Since the restaurant’s opening in September, much of the word has been negative and underwhelming, suggesting the place might have needed a softer opening. All I can say is that a recent lunch at the hands of young chef Sven Chartier (last seen at Racines) tells me this is a place that I am going to want to return to again and again. What we want today is fresh, inventive fare that is at once familiar and surprisingly new and Saturne delivers.

The blond wood decor and airy glass roof is warming, and service (despite a bit of confusion over a reservation)  is attentive and correct. Sven loves the mandolin, and everything from all manner of root vegetables to golden Comté cheese are sliced paper thin. The vegetables arrive as though they were lean, shiny sheets of colorful pasta, all the while guarding their integrity and flavor. Main courses, such as a moist cochon de lait and fat slices of codfish, were cooked to perfection. And there are some pleasing surprises, such as alabaster squid topped with a tiny buckwheat blinis and an effusive oyster mousse (photo).  I didn’t love the wine, a “natural” beverage, Domaine Valette's  Viré Clessé 2005. It had a maderized edge, no balance of fruit and acid, an added, alas, nothing to the experience. Desserts were a bit heavy,  with a thick brioche perdu  and  overly saturated baba au rhum. But I’d go back again and again just to sample baker Christophe Vasseur’s pain des amis, a vibrant, thick-crusted loaf with a bright and nutty flavor. (Boulangerie du Pain et des Idées,  34, rue Yves Toudic, Paris 10.)  At lunch time, snacks and wine are served at the bar near the entrance.

Saturne, 17, rue Notre-Dames des Victoires, Paris 2. Telephone : +33 1 42 60 31 90.  Métro Bourse. Closed Saturday and Sunday. 35 euro lunch menu, 37 euro dinner menu.

All's rosy at Le Runis

Some 30 years ago I remember wandering around the Marché Saint Honoré for what seemed like hours, trying to find the famed 1936 wine bar Le Rubis. I must have been circling the place, not the rue, but eventually found it, and fell instantly in love. Today the hangout remains virtually unchanged, just as boisterous, pushy, and old-fashioned, the spot for a bargain 11-euro platter of confit de canard (duck cooked in fat) and a thick potato gratin; meaty petit salé aux lentilles (braised salted pork with brown lentils), as well as a roborative and succulent tête de veau (braised calf’s head), served with boiled potatoes and the biggest portion of tangy sauce gribiche (mayonnaise with capers, cornichons, hard-cooked eggs, and herbs) that I have ever seen. (Photo)

Though Le Rubis is known for its wine, I found the Chiroubles ("mis en bouteille par l'acheteur" or bottled by the buyer) thin and forgettable. The cramped upstairs dining room is the sort of place where you can strike up a conversation with your neighbors (dining here is about as elbow-to-elbow as it gets) and we spent almost an hour chatting with the French teacher from Andorra who sat to my left, and the Irish-born architect from Sydney who was on my right, talking of everything from our shared love for Paris to the sadness of the brain drain of the young French. We left sated and satisfied, and you should too. In good weather you can lunch outdoors, standing at the wine barrels that serve as makeshift tables.

Le Rubis, 10, rue du Marché Saint Honoré, Paris 1. Tel: +33 1 42 61 03 34. Métro : Tuileries or Pyramides. Hot meal at lunch only. Closed Sunday.

Everything is good at Que du Bon

Another short, grey, chilly day in Paris so the only solace was  to tuck into some warming bistro fare. When I heard that bistrotier Gilles Bénard had left one of our favorite bistros, Chez Ramulaud in the 11th, for a small and no frills spot in the 20th near the Parc de Buttes Chaumont,  I headed over there. And was I rewarded! Another simple but great bistro to add to the list.

How to decide between the braised oxtail with orange and an avalanche of fragrant and delicious carrots and baby turnips; moist roast pork with mounds of soft and succulent cabbage; farm chicken with braised endive? As the oxtail and pork arrived, warming aromas wafted from the table, it was time to salivate, and tuck in. A few glasses of Jean Foillard’s raspberry-rich Morgon Côtes de Py helped take off the January chill, and we smiled in self-satisfied contentment at our choices. The food was not just bon, but the carrots tasted like the best carrots I’ve ever had (and I am not a carrot fan), the oxtail was properly falling off the bone, and braised to perfection, the ideal example of the famed Maillard effect on meat. Likewise, the pork had backbone and personality, perfect texture.

At Ramulaud, I always looked forward to the generous cheese course, and remember envying their little wooden cheese house on wheels. At Quedubon, Bénard offers a small choice of three cheeses, but what quality! It has been years since I tasted Morbier, the cow’s milk cheese from the Jura with its thin strip of ash in the center. All too often it resembles Velveeta and has about as much taste. This one was aromatic, lactic, beautifully made and perfectly aged. Likewise for the aged Comté, fruity and memorable.

The giant blackboard lists up to 150 different wines, including Richard and Couturier from the Southern Rhone, Chave from Hermitage, Leccia from Corsica, and more.

When I took a look at the price on the blackboard set before us, I thought that my eyes needed a quick checkup. Could that be correct? 14 euros for a hearty main course and dessert or cheese? A huge 16 euros if you are REALLY hungry and prefer a first course, main, and dessert or cheese. I’ll be back, for sure.

Quedubon, 22, rue du Plateau, Paris 20. Tel 33 1 42 38 18 65. Métro : Buttes-Chaumont.  Closed Saturday lunch, all day Sunday, and  1 week in winter.

Soba satisfaction

Where to lunch on a cold, grey, January day in Paris? Fresh, homemade soba noodle heaven, of course. YEN, a  Zen-like, two-story affair just steps behind Café Flore in  the 6th arrondissement is a  Japanese treasure, offering silken tofu that’s as smooth as pudding; feather-light tempura; and deliciously satisfying al dente soba noodles bathed in a fragrant mahogany-toned broth that both fills and satisfies. With every bite, every sip, you feel as though you are offering yourself a “good health” treatment. We sampled a soba noodle and broth paired with the shrimp and vegetable tempura, as well as version offering plump and pleasingly moist poached oysters touched with a flourish of brilliant green spinach. The tofu starter, served in gorgeous white bowls and topped with pungent fresh ginger, thin rounds of spring onion, sesame seeds, and soy sauce, was subtle, but simply ethereal. For dessert, try the unusual black sesame ice cream, smoky, with a touch of crunch, and the intense green tea ice cream. As I walked out the door, my soul was full of sunshine, and I hardly noticed the dense gray sky above.

YEN, 22, rue Saint-Benoit, Paris 6. Tel: + 33 1 01 45 44 11 18. Métro: Saint-Germain-des-Près. Closed Sunday and two weeks in August.  restau.yen@wanadoo.fr Lunch about 20 € per person, not including beverages. 35 € lunch menu. 68 € dinner menu.

Of oysters, Johnny, and a glass of champagne

Today I was craving oysters, and the idea of oysters teamed up with the traditional Bordeaux pairing of tiny spicy lamb sausages appealed to me even more. The only place in Paris I remembered having them was at the Art Deco Brasserie La Lorraine on the Place des Ternes,  just down from the Arc de Triomphe. So Walter and I headed over there for lunch and I confess that I heaved a big sigh of dissapointment when the menu featured NO SAUSAGES to go with the oysters! I assuaged myself with a glass of Quincy and moved forward. The waiter didn't remember the sausages ever being on the menu. He said he'd be there for five years and so, maybe it's been five years or so since we last visited.

The oysters --- a giant, plump, mildly milky variety from Utah Beach in Normandy, and tiny, mild, pleasing little ones from Gillardeau in Brittany -- hit the spot. But the highlight of the meal was actually Johnny Hallyday, the mildly alive French rocker who still manages to work, sing, perform, and draw crowds periodically. (Above photo, 1968, channeling Jim Morrison). Through January 9th the restaurant features  an exhibition of  photos of the star spanning his career, taken by photographer Tony Frank.  I am not a fan, and alway found him a bit of an Elvis copycat, but he's still alive and Elvis isn't. Or is. At any rate, I do applaud Johnny's ability to survive, which in this day and age is quite a feat.

So, to get to the point, as we were having coffee, the 2,600-euro photo of Johnny hanging above our heads fell BAM to the floor. Our waiter shouted "Johnny est mort! Apelles les pompiers! ("Johnny is dead! Call the rescue squad."). We all had a hearty laugh, and the waiter offered us each a glass of champagne to assuage frayed nerves. So we never got to sample the warm and spicy sausages, my favorite pairing with chilled, briny oysters,  but we had a look at Johnny, a good laugh, and a complimentary glass of champagne! Happy New Year!

Brasserie La Lorraine, 2, place des Ternes, Paris 8. Tel: 01 56 21 22 00. Metro: Place des Ternes.  www.brasserielalorraine.com

Appetizing nuts for the holidays

Asian Nut Mix with Kaffir Lime Dust

I am always on the lookout for unusual appetizers and this one brings back memories of travels to Vietnam, where kaffir lime and all varieties of  nuts -- especially peanuts --  appear freely and frequently. Kaffir lime trees grow easily, so if you live in a temperate climate, add one to your garden or patio. Fresh, frozen, and dried leaves can be found at Asian food shops. Fresh leaves, of course, are the most intensely flavored.

1 cup (4 ounces; 125 g) salted peanuts

1 cup (4 ounces; 125 g) cashews

Olive oil spray

12 kaffir lime leaves, chopped, then ground to a fine powder (2 teaspoons)

1 cup (2 ounces; 60 g) Japanese rice crackers

Equipment: A baking sheet.

1. Arrange a rack in the center of the oven. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F (180 degrees C).
2. Combine the nuts on a baking sheet. Spray lightly with oil and toss to coat.
3. Place the baking sheet in the oven and lightly toast the nuts,  about 5  minutes.
4. Transfer the nuts to a bowl, and while still warm, add the kaffir lime powder and rice crackers and toss to blend. Taste for seasoning. Serve.

3 cups (310 g)

Annoucing Salad as a Meal

I have just finished reading the final galleys on my new cookbook, Salad As A Meal, and am happy to tell you that we already have a little flurry of  publicity, well before the launch date of April 5, 2011.  The book has already been mentioned in the current issue of Runner's World, Food & Wine will feature it in their March issue, and Library Journal had this to say in its November 15th edition:

"Multiple Jame Beard Foundation Award winner Wells is here to say (with 150 recipes) that salads taste good, they're good for you, and they don't have to contain lettuce. Given Wells's high profile and the book's useful focus, this can't miss wherever cookbooks are popular. With a 75,000-copy first printing; eight-city tour."

The newest book, or any of my others, would make an ideal Christmas gift for anyone who loves to cook. I will be glad to send autographed book plates for any of my books that you already have or plan to purchase for yourself or as gifts. Send requests, with your address, to asst@patriciawells.com

To Preorder SALAD AS A MEAL

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Soothing, succulent bistro fare

How’s this for a lineup of winter bistro fare?  Coq Faisan Roti, Fine Choucroute de Navet (roasted pheasant with turnip sauerkraut);  Pot au Feu de Joue de Boeuf (beef cheeks with winter vegetables) Quasi de Veau Roti, Potiron Gratiné (roast rump of veal with pumpkin gratin);  Lièvre à la Royale (slow-cooked wild hare in red wine and blood sauce), and the triple-threat Oreille, Pied et Poitrine de Porc et Petit Salé (pig’s ears, feet, and breast with pork belly and lentils.) (photo). There’s all that and more at the three-week old L’Epicuriste, the new 15th arrondissement home of  Stephane Marcuzzi and chef  Aymeric Kraml. We last saw them at the small and charming L’Epigramme in the 6th, where the pair outgrew the miniscule kitchen, and set out in search of a bit of breathing room.

The new space is spare, a bit cold, but the welcome, service, and cuisine easily make up for that. Last night the restauarant was filled with sounds of good times, as diners tucked into the same soothing, earthy fare we loved at L’Epigramme. The Saint Jacques Roties au Beurre Demi-Sel Persillé (fresh scallops roasted with salted butter topped with parsleyed garlic puree) was just as remembered. The triple-threat pork specialty was not only beautifully presented  but unctuous, confit-like, velvety, rich but not the least bit heavy. The same can be said of the succulent wild hare stew, all mahogany and glistening, a masterful example of what can be accomplished with long, slow cooking.

I found that overall the food lacked just a touch of brightness, and the absence of any real vegetables truly deplorable. The wine list is brief and well-priced,  and the well-balanced red Grand Tinel Cotes-du-Rhone, at 32 euros, appeared a perfect match for this wintry fare.  I’ll be back for sure. Already looking forward to the beef cheeks and pheasant.

L’Epicuriste, 41, Boulevard Pasteur, 75015 Paris. Telephone: 01 47 34 15 50. Metro: Pasteur.  Closed Saturday lunch, all day Sunday, and Monday lunch. 34-euro menu.

Discovering "sous vide"

I just returned from a week-long professional course on sous-vide, a method of  cooking vaccum-packed foods at very low temperatures to capture maximum  flavor, texture, even color from an ingredient. And I’ll never be the same in the kitchen.

Sous vide has been around for more than 30 years (when I worked with chef Joel Robuchon at Jamin in the early 1980’s, he was already experimenting with the process) but is only beginning to catch on for the home cook.  

During the course,  given at CREA (Centre de Recherche et d’Etudes pour l'Alimentation) in Paris’s 14th arrondissement, we cooked salmon and cod, beef and lamb, kidneys and sweetbreads, pork roast, chicken breasts and thighs, duck breasts and foie gras, lobster and scallops, even an entire turkey in honor of Thanksgiving (see photo) Every vegetable imagineable – green beans, potatoes, carrots, artichokes, fennel, asparagus – was subjected  to our experiments. We even did tests with fruits, ranging from apples to pinapple to watermelon.

Sous vide (French for “under vacuum”) or cooking food at low temperature in a  water bath, is practiced by a number of  chefs world wide, including Robuchon, Thomas Keller, Ferran Adriá, Michel Richard, and Heston Blumenthal. Our CREA professor Bruno Goussault trained them all, so we knew that we were in good hands.

What I learned is that sous vide is NOT a replacement for traditional cooking methods – steaming, braising, searing roasting --  but an additional way to cook. Not every food improves with sous vide cooking but many ingredients do. Because ingredients are cooked to a perfect “core” temperature, meat and poultry remain perfectly ,evenly cooked throughout, with a texture that is unachievable in traditional cooking methods. Flavors that would normally evaporate into your kitchen, are preserved in that plastic bag. Artichokes cook without oxidyzing; a chicken breast comes out perfectly, evenly cooked, the same moist and appealing uniform texture throughout. I also learned that many items – particulary green beans and most green vegetable – are not suited to sous vide cooking for there is no way to maintain their brilliant green color. I also learned that this is not a process that is about convenience but rather precision, resulting in flavors that are more pure, more intense.

In future blogs I will go offer specific recipes and suggest how to purchase essential equipment (thermometers, water baths, and vacuum sealers) but for now I want to pass along a fabulous cooking tip that does not involve the sous vide process.

Whenever we cook salmon, a thick, viscous, white liquid (the albumin in the fish) appears on the surface of  fish once cooked. There is a way to block the alumin, and that’s salt. After soaking the fish in a simple salt brine (3/4 cup fine sea salt dissolved in  1 quart of water), cook the fish in your method of choice. You’ll be amazed! Here’s a favorite recipe for salmon:

Salt-Brined Six-Minute Salmon with Rosemary

A preferred  method for cooking fish is steaming. I like to steam fish on a bed of fragrant herbs --- rosemary, dill, thyme, or mint –all of which infuse the fish with their heady perfume. Garnish the fish with more minced fresh herbs, a drizzle of almond or  pistachio oil, and a few brine-cured black olives. Soaking the salmon in brine blocks the albumin, or white substance that rises to the surface of the fish.

Equipment: A tweezers; a steamer; 4 warmed dinner plates.

2 pounds fresh salmon filet, skin intact

3/4 cup fine sea salt

Several stalks of fresh rosemary (or sprigs of dill, thyme, or mint)

Finely minced rosemary (or herb of choice)  for garnish

Several drops of best quality almond oil or pistachio oil (such as Leblanc)

Fleur de sel  de Guérande

16 olives brine-cured black olives

1. Run your fingers over the top of the salmon fillet to detect any tiny bones that remain in the salmon. With a tweezers, remove and discard the bones. Cut the salmon into four even, 8-ounce portions.

1. In a large bowl, combine the salt and 1 quart of water and stir to dissolve the salt. Immerse the fish in the brine and set aside at room temperature for 10 minutes.
2. Bring 1 quart of water to a simmer in the bottom of the steamer. Place the herbs on the steaming rack. Place the fish on top of the herbs. Place the rack over simmering water, cover, and steam just until the fish is cooked through, about 6 minutes.
3. Remove from the heat and allow the fish to rest for 2 minutes. Carefully transfer the fish to warmed dinner plates. Garnish with herb of choice, a drizzle of the oil, and a sprinkling of  fleur de sel. On the side, garnish with olives and serve. 4  servings

Verona almond polenta cake

I have never entered a recipe contest in my life, but when I saw that Neff would be giving away an oven I have had my eye on for awhile, I thought I'd try. The oven is a dream, with a door that slides down inside the oven so it's not in the way, a low temperature setting for long slow roasting, special settings for bread and pizza, as well as an option for turning it into a steam oven! So I am entering one of my favorite desserts (and one that always gets raves from my students), the Verona Almond and Polenta Cake. With almonds, polenta, lots of butter, flour,  and a single egg, the mixture ends up much like dough a cookie dough, which is then dropped by little handfuls onto a parchment paper lined baking sheet. When served, the entire "cake" is brought to the table and guests simply break off a piece for pleasant feasting. If anyone wants to enter the Neff contest, visit neff-electromenager.com. Recipes must be sent by December 31. The oven of course is 220 and the site is in French. I'll let you all know if I win!

Almond Polenta Cake

Sbrisolona

It means a lot to say that this will be one of the most delicious tastes and textures you will put in your mouth in a lifetime. I first sampled this sandy cookie/cake/snack/dessert in a lovely Italian country restaurant near Verona – Osteria Valpollicella – one Saturday in March. This cake came as a surprising close to a splendidly modern lunch that included a pristine white ball of homemade cheese set atop the region’s spicy mostarda; paper-thin slices of home-cured beef; a stunning risotto laced with wild herbs and greens from the mountains; and a slab of local cheese teamed up with a mound of wilted wild greens and a crisp slice of grilled bacon. The recipe for this local specialty comes from Rosetta Gasparini, a fine cook who is part of the kitchen team at Villa Giona, owned by the Allegrini wine family. If you go into the town of  Mantua, you will hardly find a shop window that does not display this buttery, crumbly, irresistible cake. Traditionally, it is sampled with sweet local wines such as Recioto. Sbrisolona is a rustic dessert, baked as a slab on a baking sheet and set on the table as one whole piece. Guests break off an end and enjoy with a sip of sweet wine. I use salted butter for this cake, for I find it brightens the flavors.

Equipment: A food processor; a baking sheet lined with baking parchment.

8 ounces (250 g) whole unblanched almonds, reserving 10 almonds for garnish

2 1/4 cups (315 g) whole wheat pastry  flour

7/8 cup (105 g) quick-cooking polenta

2 sticks (8 ounces; 250 g) salted butter, melted

3/4 cup (150 g) vanilla sugar

1 large egg

1/2 teaspoon pure almond extract

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F (180 degrees C).

2. Toast the almonds: Place the almonds in a large, dry skillet over moderate heat. Shake the pan regularly until the nuts are fragrant and evenly toasted, about 2 minutes. Watch carefully! They can burn quickly. Transfer the almonds to a plate to cool. Set aside. (The almonds may also be toasted on a baking sheet in the preheated oven.)

3. In the bowl of a food processor, coarsely chop the almonds.

4. In a bowl, combine the chopped almonds, flour and polenta. Toss to blend.

5. In another bowl combine the melted butter, sugar, egg, and almond extract,  and stir to blend.  Add the dry ingredients to the liquid ingredients and stir to combine until the mixture is homogeneous. The texture should be like that of cookie dough.

6. Drop the mixture onto the baking sheet in handfuls, rubbing the dough between your fingers to make its characteristic uneven surface. Scatter the reserved whole almonds on top of the dough.

7.  Place in the center of the oven and bake until deep golden and crisp,  20 to 30 minutes. MAKE SURE THAT THE CAKE IS GOLDEN AND CRISP! THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT. Let cool before serving.  The crumbly almond cake is not cut with a knife but simply broken into pieces by hitting with your fist o breaking with your fingers.  It is ideally matched with a sweet red wine, such as Recioto, but can also be served with a generous sprinkle of grappa. The cake keeps well, and can be stored in an airtight container for up to one week.

40 servings

Memories are made of this

Anticipation is one of life's great pleasures. I love looking forward to returning to a favorite restaurant, hoping all along that my memory has not embellished the experience. So what a thrill it was to return to Le Pré du Moulin the other night, only to find it even better than we remembered. In the small Provençal village of Serignan-du-Comtat, Pascal Alonso seems to wave a magic whisk, turning out fare that is engaging, original as well a delicious. Much of the pleasure of food is its familiarity, and today all too often chefs forget that, offering us dish after dish or strange combinations we don't recognize and don't care to remember.  Alonso seems to understand this, though his unexpected food pairings force us to sit up, take notice, and enjoy.

I would never have thought to slice baby squid into spaghetti-like strands, matching them with wintry wild mushrooms, but the combination is a warming, satisfying hit,with soft textures and a bit of froth. (Photo above.). Likewise his matching of giant shrimp roasted with unctuous and crunchy pig's feet, an unlikely pairing but one that works on the plate and the palate. His more traditional dishes, such as seabass with artichokes, rouget with olives, scallops with sunchokes, and filet mignon of veal with chanterellemushrooms are no less appealing.

The Michelin-starred restaurant has been transformed from an elegant village schoolhouse, and the addition of an alluring new bistro,  Les Tables de Campagne, gives us even more choice. On the menu there you'll find guinea fowl with local white beans, or cocos blancs; warm foie gras with fresh white onions, or cebettes; and filet of beef with mustard. The wine list at both offers the best the region can offer, with a wide choice from both the northern and southern Rhone.

The black truffle season has begun, so I'll be back for his unforgetable ravioli with fresh black truffles and artichokes. Just hope it's better than I remembered.

Le Pré du Moulin and Les Tables de Campagne, 84830 Serignan-du-Comtat, France. Telephone 04 90 70 14 55. www.predumoulin.com. Closed Sunday evening, all day Monday, and Tuesday lunch. Menus from 50 euros at Le Pré du Moulin, about 30 euros at Les Tables de Campagne.

Paris bistro Astier: For old times (and new)

A lovely, old-time bistro dinner in Paris last night at Astier, a longtime favorite just off the Place de la Republique. My best memories were of their classic bistro favorite, lapin à la moutarde (slow-cooked rabbit with mustard sauce) and their more than generous cheese tray, a tradition that, alas, is slowly dying as everyone seems to be cutting back, cutting back, in more ways than one. We were greeted at the door by a handsome 40-something  gentleman with jet-black hair and an eager, winning smile. My friend Susan Herrmann and I giggled with pleasure at the printed menu before us, then there were more grins as the daily specials appeared on a blackboard before us. SEASONAL, SEASONAL, SEASONAL, you can't get much more in the groove of the season than this! All sorts of wild game -- partridge, wild hare, and venison -- appeared, and herring fresh from the market, autumnal quince and of course fresh scallops from Brittany. Even though we are truly the SEASONAL GIRLS, we were overwhelmed. We almost needed a conference (of two) on what to order! We opted for the smoked young herring (saw some gorgeous fresh specimens at the President Wilson market this morning) and it was truly the BEST EVER in both of our books. All too often herring is too salty, too smokey, too rich. This almost had the texture of swordfish (sorry, but that's what it reminded me of, only in texture) and was anointed with just the faintest hint of smoke. Served, of course, in a classic rectangular white porcelain terrine, with tiny potatoes that I found just a bit on the bland side. I opted for a starter of rabbit rillettes, moist, flavorful, not too fatty and served with giant pink picked shallots, a recipe I need to perfect ASAP! The roasted codfish wrapped in ham and bathed in fresh white shell beans and a touch of tomato offered a lovely, light touch, and the dessert of poached quince hit the spot. During the evening , we found out that the 40ish something Monsieur Robert recalled that I had written about a certain restaurant,  Christine, where he worked some 20 years ago, and sent him more customers than he could handle. Run, don't walk to Astier these days, and be sure to say hello to Monsieur Robert and look in at their newest effort, a lovely épicerie/restaurant/carry out -- JeanneA -- with rotisserie right next door.

Astier, 44, rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 75011 Paris. Telephone 01 43 57 16 35. Open daily. Metro: Parmentier or Oberkampf.

JeanneA, 42 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 75011 Paris. Telephone 01 43 55 09 49. Metro: Parmentier or Oberkampf.

http://www.restaurant-astier.com/

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Yum yum Yam'Tcha

Is it worth the wait? Three months or more for dinner, a tiny bit less for lunch. That’s for you to decide, but a recent lunch at Yam’Tcha, a 1 1/2-year old postage stamp of a restaurant was not only memorable for the food, but throughout was even-handed, carefully paced, not the least bit precious, and just a perfectly nice place to be on a rainy November day in Paris.

Chef Adeline Grattard (pedigrees include time spent with chefs Yannick Alléno now of the Michelin  three-star in the hotel Meurice and Pascal Barbot, of the Michelin three-star L’Astrance) and her Chinese tea sommelier husband Chiwah Chan make a rare pare, she working elegantly in her tiny box of an open kitchen at the entrance, he with great ceremony (but not ceremoniously) delivering tiny cup after cup of soothing and remarkably matched teas that pair lusciously with her carefully constructed French-Asian cuisine.

The meal included a myriad of ingredients and flavors, tender Brittany mussels merged with fermented beans and pumpkin noodles, anointed with just the right touch of brown rice vinegar; a duet of giant wontons (pictured)  stuffed with plump and full-flavored shrimp and deliciously crunchy water chestnuts;  a pad of steamed foie gras shook hands with a delightful blend of wakame seaweed and julienne of turnips, with a foam of dried scallops that emerged much like a sprig of parsley, not essential to the dish, but a pleasant nod.

There’s no menu choice at this small, 20-seat restaurant, but I won’t complain. The food is remarkably light, not a bit show-off, and just different enough for all of our everyday fare to make one sit up and take notice. I love the décor, simple and elegant with lovely little chopsticks and must-have Italian porcelain in pale earth tones. The brief wine list is remarkable. We enjoyed two delicious and well-paired Burgundies. The white Nuits St Georges Jacques-Frédéric Mugnier Clos del a Marechale was chardonnay to perfection, almost as though the winemaker was thinking of Grattard’s fare as he vinified. Equally well-paired was the red pinot noir Nuits St Georges Les Boudots from Michel Noellat, a wine with a gentle touch of spice and smoke, elegant and right at home in this little jewel box of a restaurant. The name, by the way, is Mandarin for “drink tea,” and you will!

Yam’Tcha, 4, rue de Sauval, Paris 1. Telephone 01.40.26.08.07. From 50 to 65 € per person, without wine. Closed Sunday evening,  Monday, and Tuesday.  Metro: Louvre-Rivoli.   

Greetings from the top of the world!

Hello from my annual "boot camp" week at Rancho La Puerta in Tecate, Mexico. That's our group at 7 am this morning on a misty 7-mile mountain hike. I'll be sending notes and recipes from one of my favorite places in the world. No Côtes du Rhône, but plenty else! Here's a recipe inspired by the delicious, wholesome food at the Ranch, and one that's included in my upcoming book Salad As A Meal, to be published next spring.

EGG CREPE WITH MUSHROOMS AND SPINACH 

These ultra-thin egg crepes make a perfect lunch, accompanied by a simple green salad. The egg is simply a light envelope for whatever you want to put inside: Here I suggest mushrooms and spinach, but one could also dig into the pantry or refrigerator for all manner of herbs, vegetables, and cheese on hand.

Equipment: A 10-inch nonstick crepe pan.

2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil

6 large mushrooms, cleaned, trimmed, and thinly sliced

Fine sea salt

8 ounces fresh spinach

Freshly grated nutmeg

2 large, ultra-fresh eggs, at room temperature

2 teaspoons chopped mixed herbs (fresh parsley and thyme or dried oregano)

2 tablespoons freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, crumbled

Freshly grated pepper

Several handfuls of greens, tossed with dressing of choice

1. In a 10-inch nonstick skillet heat 1 teaspoon of oil over moderate heat. Add the mushrooms, season lightly with salt, and cook just until soft, 3 to 4 minutes. With a slotted spoon, transfer the mushrooms to a platter to drain. Add the spinach to the skillet with 2 tablespoons of water. Cover and cook until wilted, 1 to 2 minutes. Drain the spinach, chop, and season with salt and freshly grated nutmeg.

2. Crack each egg into a small bowl. The egg should be lightly beaten with a fork (not a whisk) just enough to combine the yolk and the white well without incorporating air bubbles that might make the crepe dry out. Add 1 tablespoon of water to each bowl.

3. Warm the crepe pan for a few seconds over high heat. Add 1/2 teaspoon of oil and swirl to evenly coat the pan. Add the egg, tilting the pan from side to side to evenly coat the bottom of the pan. Cook just until the egg is evenly set but still slightly liquid on top, about 1 minute. Remove the pan from the heat. Quickly spoon half the spinach, then half the mushrooms, herbs and cheese in the center of the egg crepe to form a strip parallel to the pan. With a fork, carefully fold the crepe over the filling from each side. Tip the pan up against the edge of a warmed plate so that the crepe rolls out browned side up. Season with salt and pepper. Repeat with remaining egg crepe. Serve immediately.

2 servings

Variations: Wilted Swiss chard and feta; wilted lamb’s lettuce and ricotta; salsa, cubed avocado and grated cheese; morels in truffle cream with chives.

Wine suggestion: Our winemaker Yves Gras makes one of the “best drying whites of the Southern Rhône,” or so says wine expert Robert Parker. We agree, for his Sablet Blanc Le Fournas  is crisp, chalky, elegant and made for everyday drinking. Perfect with this simple but sublime egg crepe.

A sweet, red-letter day!

Today at the Vaison weekly market, our beekeeper Christine Tracol cermoniously presented me with four 1-kilo jars of golden nectar. Last November she placed 10 busy beehives behind the little stone cabanon in our vineyard, and left them there until sometime this summer, when it came time for them to feast in the lavender fields near Mont Ventoux. But as our honey shows, as the bees feasted at Chanteduc  on the nectar of various rosemary, thyme, and zucchini blossoms, they must have spent a lot of time in the two giant linden flower -- or tilleul trees -- on the property. The honey is payment as "rent" for the use of the property. Nice exchange! Our honey is a golden amber, with an intense, floral flavor. I confess that it is not as extraordinary as her mountain lavender honey, but nothing is!   I'd like to share a favorite melon and honey sorbet recipe:

Cavaillon Melon Sorbet

A ripe, juicy melon emits the most intoxicating perfume. Even before the fruit is sliced open, it offers up its rich, pleasantly musky aromas. Choose a melon that feels heavy for its size, a sign that the fruit is dense and ripe. In Provence, the fashion is to offer melons that have exploded at the bottom – like a little volcanic eruption – a sign that the fruits were ripened in the fields and not waterlogged in a greenhouse to give better weight.  I like to sweeten this sorbet with a mild yet fragrant and distinctive honey. For a truly creamy, almost fluffy sorbet, whip the mixture in a blender at highest speed for a full minute.

One 2-pound (1 kg) ripe cantaloupe (to yield about 1 pound, 500 g fruit)

1/2 cup (125 ml)  honey

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

2 tablespoons vodka

Equipment: A serrated grapefruit spoon; a blender; an ice-cream maker.

Halve the melon. With the grapefruit spoon, remove and discard any fibrous pulp and seeds. Slice the halves into 4 wedges. With a sharp knife, run the knife between the rind and the pulp, being careful not to include any green bits of pulp. Chop the pulp coarsely. Transfer to the blender. Add the honey, lemon juice, and vodka and blend for a full minute, until creamy and  smooth. Chill thoroughly. At serving time, transfer the mixture to an ice cream maker and freeze according to the manufacturer’s instructions. For best results, serve the sorbet as soon as it is made.  Do not re-freeze.

3 cups (750 ml)

WHY VODKA? Without the added alcohol, this all-fruit sorbet would have a tendency to become gritty. The alcohol does not freeze, resulting in a smooth and creamy dessert.

Ohhh! Les Tomates!

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I went a little crazy this year and ended up with 82 tomato plants. They are just beginning to come in now, and I believe that one NEVER has too many tomatoes. Should there be more than I can deal with, I quarter and freeze them, variety by variety, and cook them up later for multicolored sauces. Many of  my plants did not make it this spring, with too much rain and not enough sun. But there will be plenty to see us through to October. Current high performers include my favorites:  Green Zebra, the bright orange Valencia, Ida Gold and Coeur de Boeuf Orange, the yellow Jaune Saint Vincent and Banana Leg, the fabulous Ananas, Striped Germain and Tigerella, and the always productive Russe. A new and interesting heirloom is the white Beauté Blanche de Canada, a large tomato with ivory skin and pulp and mildly acidic flavor. I confess that I am nearly breathless with excitement when I can slice multicolored varieties and arrange them on a giant white platter, season them with my homemade Fennel and Saffron Salt and sit down to lunch, with a fat slice of my toasted homemade sourdough bread. I hope you enjoy the salt:  saffron, fennel and tomatoes seem to love one another's company.

FENNEL AND SAFFRON SALT

Once you try this on a simple fresh tomato salad, you will be sold! Fennel, saffron and tomatoes make a perfect trio. Keep the salt on hand for anytime you want to add sunny flavors. I use the less expensive ground saffron here. Once the salt dissolves, the saffron bleeds a golden, reddish orange hue.

A pinch of ground saffron

3 tablespoons fine sea salt

2 tablespoons fennel seed

Combine the ingredients in a spice grinder, grinding until the fennel seeds are very fine. Transfer to a small jar. Cover and shake to blend.  Store securely covered to maintain freshness. The mixture will stay fresh for several months.

5 tablespoons flavored salt

Zucchini blossom love

Last year my handful of zucchini plants produced almost no vegetables. Blossoms yes, but a paltry crop of zucchini.  Now that's pretty pathetic, because even non-gardeners know that zucchini grows like wildfire. So this year I overplanted in the zucchini department, and of course I have more than my family, houseguests, and neighbors can humanly consume. But in truth I grow zucchini for their welcoming, golden flowers. They greet you in the morning with a smile, their arms wide open. Before I go out for a morning run, I allow myself a quick tour of the garden, so as I run I can plan the day's menus, always dreaming up new ways to use up zucchini blossoms, which I consider a totally "free" byproduct of the vegetable garden. I chop them and toss them in a lunchtime frittata, stuff them with all manner of fillings -- leftover cheese, tabouleh, herbs and chopped zucchini -- and deep fry them,  give them a quick sauté, or gently steam them. I arrange them like spokes on a wheel for pizzas, paired with anchovies and capers, or arrange them on organic flour tortillas with cheese, tomatoes, and pickled peppers and set them on the grill. But the current favorite comes from zucchini blossom and pasta recipes inspired by good friends and colleagues Susan Herrmann (in her utterly complete Italian Farmhouse) and Johanne Killeen and George Germon (in their unbeatable On Top of Spaghetti). A mix of cubed zucchini, sliced blossoms, capers, black olives, and an avalanche of basil make for an idyllic July spaghetti sauce.

Spaghetti with Zucchini Blossoms, Zucchini, and Basil

Equipment: A food processor fitted with a small bowl; a large saucepan with a lid;  a 10-quart pasta pot fitted with a colander; 4 warmed shallow soup bowls.

4 cups loosely packed basil leaves

4 tablespoons olive oil

1 teaspoon fine sea salt

1 1/2 pounds fresh zucchini, trimmed and cut into a very fine dice

20 zucchini blossoms, cut into chiffonnade (4 cups loosely packed)

1 cup best-quality French brine-cured black olives, pitted and quartered

1/3 cup capers in vinegar, drained

1 cup freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, plus more for the table

1 pound imported Italian spaghetti

3 tablespoons coarse sea salt

1. Combine the basil, 3 tablespoons of the oil, and the fine salt in the food processor and puree.
2. Heat the remaining tablespoon of oil in the saucepan until hot but not smoking. Add the zucchini and cook for 1 minute. Add the blossoms and cook for 30 seconds more. Add the olives, capers, half the cheese, and the basil puree and stir to blend.
3. In the pasta pot, bring 10 quarts of water to a rolling boil over high heat. Add the coarse salt and the pasta, stirring to prevent the pasta from sticking. Cook until tender but firm to the bite. Remove the pasta pot from the heat. Remove the colander and drain over a sink, shaking to remove excess water. Immediately transfer the drained pasta to the sauce in the saucepan. Toss to evenly coat the pasta. Remove from the heat. Cover and let rest for 1 minute. Toss with the remaining cheese. If dry, add several tablespoons pasta water to moisten. Serve in the warmed bowls, passing extra cheese for garnish. 4 Servings

A very berry summer!

A delicious ripe berry is worth its weight in gold. Our gooseberries, black currants and red currants have had their season, finding their way into jams and sorbets. Now the dense-flavored blackberries -- mures --  are coming into their own. And never too soon! I love their haunting, winey flavor, their shiny, jet black color, the way they squish  when you pop one in your mouth. This summer, I've been making a different sorbet every day, and along with apricot and melon, blackberry sorbet gets the greatest raves. I also appreciate the fact that these fat berries are not labor intensive!

BLACKBERRY SORBET

1 quart (500 g) blackberries

2/3 cup (120 g)   organic cane sugar

1 tablespoon vodka or raspberry liqueur

1 cup plain Greek-style whole milk yogurt

Equipment: A blender or a food processor; a fine-mesh sieve;  an ice-cream maker.

Combine all the ingredients in the blender or a food processor and puree until smooth. Strain through the fine-mesh sieve to remove the seeds. Chill thoroughly. At serving time, transfer the mixture to the ice-cream maker and freeze according to the manufacturer’s instructions. For best results, serve the sorbet as soon as it is made. Do not re-freeze.

12 servings

Le pays d'abricot

We live in apricot country and I swear, I don't remember a better year. The fruits are plump, perfumed, seductive. I began making my annual batch of jam today, and use it year-round as a flavorful base for fruit tarts. The original recipe comes from The Provence Cookbook.

Maryse’s Apricot Jam/La Confiture d’Abricots de Maryse

To me, this is unquestionably the world’s greatest jam.  I generally don’t swoon over sweets,  but the first time I tasted this homemade apricot jam I  was stunned.  Not too sweet, rich with the almond-like, faintly acidic apricot flavor, this jam is full of  the fragrances and colors of Provence. The recipe comes from Maryse Jourdan, who lives in the village of Goult in the Luberon. She is one of the best jam makers I know. Whenever I use  a fresh vanilla bean, scraping out the little seeds, I reserve the pods, dry them, then bury them in a huge jar of organic cane sugar. Today I decided to add some of those pods to the jam, making for an even more perfumed sweet.    

Equipment: An unlined copper bassine à confitures, or a large-bottomed, heavy-duty stock pot.

2 pounds (1 kg) apricots,  rinsed,  halved, and pitted (reserve the pits)

1 1/2 cups (300 g) organic cane sugar

4 vanilla beans that have perfumed a jar of sugar

1. Crack 10 of the pits to reveal an almond-like nut within. Reserve these nuts, discarding the remaining pits. In a large unlined copper jam pot or a large-bottomed, heavy-duty stock potlarge unlined copper jam pot or large-bottomed, heavy-duty stock pot, combine the apricots, reserved nuts, and sugar. Stir to dissolve the sugar. Cook over moderate heat, stirring regularly, for 1 hour. Do not allow the mixture to burn or to stick to the bottom of the pan. The mixture will turn very thick and bright orange and most of the apricots will melt into a purée. Transfer to a bowl and set aside at room temperature for 24 hours. (This 24-hour aging period helps give the jam a greater depth of flavor.)

2. When ready to complete the jam, prepare four 8-ounce canning jars with lids by sterilizing them in boiling water according to the jar manufacturer’s instructions.

3. The next day, reheat the mixture in the jam pot or stock pot over moderate heat, until very thick. Transfer to the hot, sterilized jelly jars, leaving ¼-inch headroom. Seal according to the jar manufacturer’s instructions. Store in a cool, dry, place for up to 1 year.

Makes about four 8-ounce jars