Indian Summer

Why is it that we think of resolutions and new beginnings only on January 1st? I much prefer the idea of replacing the epic annual ‘brand new me’ habit and, instead, taking each month as an opportunity to try something new, adjust or create new habits and then check-in with myself every 30 days or so. Today seems to be a good start – it is the first of the month, seasons are in transition and, although it has been to the evident detriment of my blogging output, I have made considerable and tangible progress in the lab. Now I get some time to play.

What a great day for it. Mother Nature did not get the memo about the arrival of autumn. She has not noticed us all readying ourselves for the coming winter, purchasing rain boots and houndstooth blazers (with elbow patches!). In fact, it seems that she finally realized that she never gave us a real summer and is making up for it, all at once.

All of Paris was out today en forme, soaking in as much sunshine as possible. It was a perfect day for long walks, late afternoon sunshine glinting off of gilded monuments and terrace dining somewhere deep in the 15th (it was deemed an ‘exceedingly acceptable’ burger, by one who should know).

Although we topped out at 28C (82F) this afternoon, there was no hiding from the hints of fall. Those warm winds not only lifted the hair off my shoulders (such a relief), but also spun the already fallen, crumbling leaves into small eddies, whirling along the Esplanade des Invalides.

It *is* only a matter of time before the cold creeps in, bringing the darkness along with it. Each day is noticeably shorter, pears and figs are overflowing the neighborhood fruit stands and I saw my first roasted chestnut vendor today (seeming quite ridiculous in this heat), a sure sign of winter-to-come.  I can handle it – bring on the dark evenings (and mornings), the slow braised stews, squishy-soft handmade scarves and vin chaud. Until that moment, however, you can find me, along with the rest of the city, worshipping that glowing yellow ball in the sky for as long as I can.

FIFFP #16: On Vacation – Shiny, Sparkly and See-Thru, Oh My!

(Credit where it is due? I guess this will help maximize the cooling potential of that breeze off the canal)

As I keep mentioning (and not delving further), I took a short break in August to travel to Italy with one of my dearest friends. We had a great time taking the overnight sleeper train to Venice, exploring the art and canals, making our way to Rome and eating our way through the Eternal City.

(Apologies for the horrid iPhone photo. Unfortunately, to protect her privacy you are missing the matching lavender felt fedora, but I think the color-coordinated flip-flops give you an idea). 

I tried to stay focused on ogling ruins, slurping pasta and contemplating contemporary art, really I did. Yet, I am (admittedly) easily distracted. Especially by metallic chains, giant sequins and endless amounts of netting. It was hot. No doubt. Somehow even the 100F heat does not seem to justify all of this.

(Those are not sparkly threads, but actual loose chains draped over her shoulders. Similar to chain mail. Except not at all protective. We saw this girl randomly at least three times that day in different parts  of the city – the photo was clearly meant to be.)

(So much elastic. So much metallic.)

(Again with the iPhone apologies – the camera of which is normally so good, I think I was overzealous with the zoom function – however, it still captured the netted back, stopping just before the point of no return, and maybe a Spanx line?). 

(This girl deserves special mention. She uttered the most inane line overheard during our trip, “Does the sun set on the west everywhere?”. From the OC, she made these fellow Americans cringe in fear, knowing this is who the rest of the world thinks we are). 

(No fashion post about Rome would be complete without a photo of the Swiss Guard. Despite the colorful outfits, it would not be wise to challenge one of these men, supposedly the men of the Guard are some of the most well-trained security forces in the world.)

And, in case you have ever wondered what it is like to travel with me when I get pulled away from admiring real art and am on the chase for a fashion forward photo, my travel companion snapped this:

 

Yes, I agree. Someday that person is going to turn around, and I am going to be in heaps of trouble. I will take my chances until then…

 

 

(Mostly) In Images – Mid-week repast (Chez Casimir)

Late last week, while sitting in yet another lab meeting, I received a one-line email that made my  stomach growl and my heart flutter, “Interested in dinner tonight? I need a review spot…”

One of the perks of befriending ex-pat chefs and food bloggers in Paris is that there is rarely hesitation about where to eat next. Most of the time, I need only to agree to a meeting time and place, wherein I place myself in their very capable hands for the next culinary adventure.

Most recently, this is was our spot:

We each chose the four course menu, a steal at 32€.

For me, an entrée of terrine de campagne, served with  a lightly dressed salad and an accompanying jar of homemade cornichons and pickled peppers.

For her, a salad of pickled vegetables and a large fillet of mackerel.

We both chose seafood for our main courses; she had a Cabillaud (cod) with artichokes (above), and I chose the monkfish with eggplant purée.

Following the main course, this haphazard collection of cheese found its way to our table, from which we could sample freely (at least until our dining neighbors, bemused from watching us photograph each course, decided it was their turn, reached over and took it from us).

Desserts: clafoutis (above), featuring Reine Claude plums, and hers (below), roasted figs topped with an almond lace cookie and lavender ice cream.

The food was delicious, the service kind and incredibly prompt and the price was just right. For scientific accuracy, I should insist on a repeat visit (Camille?). However, I am certainly game the next time an email finds its way into my inbox suggesting one of the many other culinary adventures in this city…

Chez Casimir (read the actual review here)

6 rue de Belzunce

Paris, 75010

Weekly Harvest (15) – Celebrations

Despite not having been on a traditional school calendar for many years, I still get a buzz of excitement each September. The days feel full of potential, as well as newfound motivation and momentum for the work ahead. The French, with their insistence that the month of August exists only as a placeholder while they are on vacation, seem to agree. Observing the tradition of the rentrée, (re-entry) of Parisians into their everyday working world is a unique cultural experience. Overnight the metros are again packed to capacity, although the workforce is now exceedingly tan and somewhat relaxed. I give that positive attitude two weeks (the leathery tans will take longer to fade). Tops.

September is also the gateway to autumn. I love transitional seasons – I cherish the last of the warm days and cuddle up with a cup of tea (and a great book) on cooler nights. I look for any excuse to dust off the Dutch oven. Even better, there have been several recent epic thunderstorms that made me question, if just for a moment, if I knew anyone capable of building an arc.  My only hesitation about the inevitable forward march of the seasons is in their affect on my panier. I am just not ready to face all of those apples again.

Turns out, for at least this week, I had nothing to worry about. In fact, the return of rhubarb seems to indicate that Mother Nature is even more confused about the seasons than the rest of us. Colleagues keep telling me that these will be the last of the haricot vert and tomatoes, but they keep coming. Those grapes are heavy with juice and sunshine, even if you do have to eat them over the sink in order to expel the seeds with minimal mess. Only the carrots remind me that root vegetable season is rapidly approaching. However, for today, we had one last summer celebration. A few weeks ago, a new baby boy was born to one of my close colleagues. Unlike in the US, baby showers here are thrown after the baby is brought into this world healthy and safe, lest any premature celebration jinx the mother-to-be. To celebrate I used those carrots to make a cake. Not just any cake, but the most delicious carrot cake I have ever tasted. It could be the brown butter. Or the genius of its creator. Or both. I also finally passed on the baby blanket that has been waiting a while to be gifted. Turns out I got a bit caught up when making it, as it may be the biggest baby blanket known to man. Oh well.

(Credit to Melvin for the excellent photo)

The first week of the rentrée is always full of long morning coffees shared while telling vacation stories, endless organizational meetings and reprioritizing projects. This week was no different and, in the end, was relatively unproductive.  I made the best of it, ushering in the ‘new year’ and saying a fond farewell to the summer by roasting that untimely rhubarb with vanilla, orange and brown sugar. Spooned with its syrup over yogurt reminded me that, although I still feel like a kid at this time each year, it is only as an adult that I can have dessert before my dinner.

Weekly Harvest (14) – Perhaps a Pepper Problem

I thought I was being so clever – hording at least one panier post to tide me over (in both blog fodder and reminders of the piles of fresh vegetables would eventually return at the end of the vacances). Turns out I ended up taking a blog vacation of my own, including a few real vacation days during which I fled the cool, grey Paris summer for the sweltering beauty of Italy in August. For the past two weeks, my vegetables have returned and now, ironically, I find myself with a surplus of veggie tales (no, not these kind) to share with all of you.

(late July)

Conveniently for combinatorial posting, I am currently stuck in a culinary rut; namely, I cannot seem to get my fill of peppers.  Lucky for me (or perhaps because of this?), our paniers have been endlessly generous in this regard. Even more exciting is that this has not been restricted to just bell peppers. In the finally-blogged-about late July panier, we received several long, spicy-smelling peppers, very reminiscent of Anaheim chiles.

(First week of August)

However, most of the pepper surplus has come in the form of the lowly green bell pepper. I find it amusing that green bell peppers, in particular, seem to be the bane of many food bloggers’ CSA shares. I do not question that I would easily chose a sweet red or yellow bell pepper over their unripe, bitter green cousin, but in the end, I am not so picky.

(Second week of August – and caught up!).

Simply put, peppers (of any/all sorts) remind me of home. Specifically, long, lazy summer days in California – browsing the overflowing, vibrantly colored farmers markets, grilling vegetables as a first course on a Sunday afternoon and, best of all, a variety of mouthwatering Tex-Mex dishes. Homesickness has lately been running fast and deep around here, so I took the continual bounty of peppers as an excuse to dive headlong into those memories and do my best to recreate some of my favorite pepper-centric dishes here in Paris.

(Chile Relleno casserole – recipe here)

While the variety and options of Mexican street food (burritos, tacos, tortas) in Paris are on the upswing (the tacos at Candelaria are truly delicious, no matter what country you would find them), it is still a bit of a challenge to find restaurants that offer (emphasis) affordable sit-down Mexican cuisine. I make no claim to authenticity, but for me this casserole satisfied a long held craving for chile rellenos – one of my favorite (and now most missed) south-of-the-border specialties.  Stuffed with sausage, potatoes and a mild feta, baked into a soufflé/casserole and topped with chipotle-tomato sauce (the endless panier tomatoes) and cheddar cheese, it was warming meal to share with a good friend on a surprisingly cool August evening.

(Heaven – and a brief reprieve from panier pepper posting)

Especially when I am lucky enough that this friend showed up with perfectly ripe figs, berries, all topped with a homemade peach caramel sauce for dessert.

(Stuffed bell peppers)

I have fond memories of stuffed bell peppers, as one of those easy, go-to meals for my mom while I was growing up. Although stuffed with sausage, sweet corn and rice and then smothered in cheese and tomato sauce, it always seemed somewhat healthy to me that we were eating a meal enclosed in a green pepper shell. Following on the heels of the chile rellenos, it seemed a small mental step to take on stuffing the next week’s supply of bell peppers, as we had received sweet corn (!) and more tomatoes for sauce. Plus, it was a personal challenge to see if I could make a green bell pepper dish that Camille would enjoy. She finished everything on her plate, so I will count that as success. These were so good, I made them twice. In one week.

(Tequila-lime chicken fajitas – recipe for marinade here)

Beyond roasting peppers beyond recognition for torta salad (a tasty dinner with Camille to help consume her double-share of bell peppers) or stuffed and smothered in cheese, the last pepper-centric meal that got stuck in my head was fajitas. As an added bonus, fajitas not only meant using the peppers, but also making guacamole and pico de gallo (another tomato buster), as well as restarting the weekly panier-purge dinner. Despite my Facebook yearnings to eat the guacamole with a spoon, I actually did need others to help me consume this massive Tex-Mex feast.

(Yum)

Sneaking a peak at the selection in next week’s panier shows me that the summer flavors are still coming out in force – perhaps zucchini or eggplant and, surprisingly, rhubarb. However, we seem to be taking a break from the pepper harvest. I am OK with that. I am almost sure I have had my fill.

(surprisingly hot peppers now taking up valuable space in my kitchen)

Yet yesterday,in my quest to find truly spicy chiles and large quantities of fresh cilantro for the fajitas, I ended up with these. They are beyond hot (for my palate) and both my lips and nose were burning for hours after tasting them. But, they are so pretty that I could not pass them up. Any suggestions for their use, besides as a photo prop? I may have a pepper problem…

My Seven

While writing Saturday’s post, I ended up digging a bit into the archives, searching for the original gelato photo that kicked off that tradition.  Once found, I continued to backtrack, realizing that I was nearing my blog’s birthday. Sure enough, it turns out that Saturday (27 August) was the big day! Although I am rarely consistent (except for *almost* making NaBloPoMo in July 2010) and definitely lacking any thematic thread to tie things together, I am proud of the little corner of the Interwebs that I call my own. In the end, I feel that this blog has become a relatively accurate reflection of me – somewhat silly, easily distracted, worked upon in fits and starts, but also (I believe) genuine, optimistic and full of life.

Last week, Camille tagged me for my very first meme (always a late bloomer), for which I am to choose seven posts from the archives that exemplify this blog according to certain criteria. With the blogiversary upon me, it seems only appropriate to pause here and dig through the 116 posts from the past two years, to reflect on where I have been and contemplate where I am going. The fact that this post is going up two days post-birthday seems par for the course, as the blog always seems to be the first thing pushed aside in times of stress; but is, in reality, one of the best thing I have ever done for my creativity (and sanity). Thank you to all of those friends and readers (new and old) who join me, researching Paris (and life), one post at a time.

Now, my 7:

1. Most Beautiful 

Although part of me is tempted by most recent “Tour de gelato” post (because who knew ice cream could be so photogenic?), I believe this title belongs to “Saturdays in Spring”. Winters in Paris are hard. Not trapped inside behind a meter of snow, Boston-hard, but still exhausting with their extremely short days and endless grey skies. That first weekend that I can shrug off the overcoat, put on cute flats and spend the afternoon wandering around my neighborhood, snapping photos of shockingly red strawberries and baskets overflowing with mushrooms marks a mental (and meteorological) turning point towards Spring. And, honestly, there is nowhere as beautiful and full of life as Paris in the springtime.

2. Most Popular

My post about spending the first Sunday of June exploring the “Musée du Quai Branly”, (somehow) garnered Freshly Pressed ‘fame’, resulting in more than 3000 hits in 24 hours. Craziness. Wonderful, amazing, interconnected craziness. I still have no idea who selects the Freshly Pressed posts, but I do want to give them a giant hug (and buy them several beers). I was self-consciously delighted, not only for the attention (who wouldn’t be?), but also for the commenters and their blogs, which I may not have found any other way and now enjoy regularly.

3. Most Controversial

Although I have cut back on the ‘Friday French Fashion Faux-Pas’ posts in recent months, they remain the most popular, discussed and controversial posts I have written. In particular, “Things That Make You Go FFFM” revealed my ambivalence-leaning-toward-distaste for spectacularly colored leggings, which led to some sharp comments from readers who enjoy the opportunity to flaunt their gams during crisper weather. After the fallout, I think I finally realized that I just have shapely leg envy.

4. Most Helpful

Since signing up a bit over a year ago, I have really enjoyed the weekly surprise of my panier bio. It also provides built-in blog fodder and an excuse to be creative in the kitchen (neither of which is ever a bad thing). Once again encouraged by Camille, I used one week’s harvest of artichokes to both feed friends and write “An Artichoke Primer” (California-style). I am not sure if anyone has actually used it, but after showing innumerable friends how to enjoy entire artichokes in the past, the post definitely has ‘most helpful’ potential written all over it.

5. Post Whose Success Surprised Me

As mentioned above, the FFFFP posts seem to please everyone (except, perhaps, the unidentified subjects). That surprises me a bit in general, as I am no fashion plate and, often times, my critiques make me feel a bit frumpy and out of the loop (maybe I am completely missing the point, you know?). However, the “U Can’t Touch FFFFP” post dedicated to the (then) newly emergent Hammer pants trend continues to be one of the most viewed posts on this blog, much to my surprise. Maybe it is because this trend Just. Won’t. Die.

6. Post I Feel Didn’t Get The Attention It Deserved

Visiting Paris is, for many people, a dream vacation. I have been very lucky to have several friends come visit during my time here (family? You are next!), and when they do arrive, I am ready with a trusty walking tour and a few key museum and restaurant recommendations. However, this city if full of hidden treasures that I would love to discover and so, to this end, I asked out loud what the “Must-Do(s) in Paris” are. Perhaps because I was just starting to get readers beyond friends and family, or maybe everyone agreed with me (doubtful), but I did not receive so many suggestions. However, it would be great to collect a few more ideas today of things to do in the coming weeks as the days cool and shorten (hint, hint, nudge, nudge, wink, wink).

7. Post That I Am Most Proud Of

For the most part, I try to keep this blog light. Day-to-day existence can provide plenty of potential stress in itself. The things that keep me happy (i.e. sane) –exploring new places, spending time with friends, cooking – those are the topics I like to reflect on here. Yet every once in a while, life throws a curveball and it can be an overwhelming struggle to be honest with myself, figure out which doors to close, hope that new ones will open and focus on living in the present. I hit one of these walls this spring. I hesitated to talk about it here, lest the frustration, confusion or loneliness diminish the fun, witty atmosphere I had previously cultivated. Turns out that this is my space and opening up within it, to say whatever I need to, actually is now part of my process. “Synchronicity” said it all in that moment.

Enough reflection for now, methinks. Upwards and onwards! To infinity and beyond! Perhaps that it aiming too high? I am going to shoot for at least two posts a week from here on out… And definitely an About page sometime soon… maybe linking a Flikr account… oh dear.

And now the best part – tagging blogging friends and inspirations of mine!

Catherine, of Ciao Down!

Catherine, of Dig Girl

Anna, of Lab Life

Brittany, of Reflections

 

and, if I’m lucky, Adrienne, of Martinimade

Tag! You’re It!!

On vacation: Tour de gelato

After two years, it is easy to see that starting (and maintaining, for the most part) this blog has altered the way I observe and interact with the world around me. Rather than walking down the street blindly, lost in thoughts of experiments that did not work or fighting pangs of homesickness, I find that (on good days) I am alert, looking for an anecdote to share or photos to take that will sum up where my mind and heart are at that moment.

Father/daughter self-portrait – 1981ish

More than a mere change in my day-to-day perspective, capturing these moments has enhanced and expanded my personal confidence and allowed me to develop skills and hobbies that now bring me great joy. Nowhere is that more evident than my growing love of photography. This is hardly surprising; as the daughter of a photographer there was never a lack of appreciation for this particular art form in my home. Until recently however, taking the pictures was always Dad’s purview – I was usually the one in front of the camera, deftly posing in ways that had become second nature over the last 30-some-odd years. Today my burgeoning interest in getting behind the lens is not only about capturing the beauty of everything around me, but is also providing a new and engaging way for my father and I to connect across the thousands of miles between San Diego and Paris.

Since arriving in France almost three years ago, I have sent hundreds of photos back home from all over the globe, always interested in (and slightly nervous about) the feedback on color, composition and image quality I know will come in response. For some reason it was the photo above, of an afternoon snack taken while visiting friends Strasbourg in 2009, which captured my dad’s imagination. That gelato shot, he would recall repeatedly as time went by, was fantastic. As any only daughter of an exacting father can attest, that kind of final approval and appreciation of a job well done is priceless.

When he heard of my plan to spend a week in Italy this summer with one of my oldest and best friends, he returned to that photo. “Have a great time”, he said, “and be sure take pictures of all the gelato you eat!”

This is for you, dad:

Melon (orange) and Rum Raisin (yellow)

 Mandarin (yellow) and Pear (white)

Strawberry (pink) and Yogurt with Red Fruit Swirl (white)

Cinnamon (brown) and Coconut (white)

Pistachio/Almond and Red Fruits/Zabaglione

Hungry yet? More vacation stories and photos to come…

Weekly Harvest 13: Attack of the Endless Tomatoes!

I have a confession to make. I am hoarding Weekly Harvest posts. Well, maybe hoarding is a bit too severe a term – I am just one week behind and, rather than cram more paniers into this post, I’ve decided to stockpile (does a stockpile of one exist?). This makes sense if you realize, as I did last night, that this is our last week of vegetable-y goodness for a month; they depart for their various vacations next week.

Not to be outdone by my produce, I also will be departing for a brief vacation next week, hoping to return well rested and miraculously filled with a bottomless supply of patience. Work and our endless rainy weather has drained me of whatever of that I have left. Although fresh ingredients that fit just as well into cool summer dinners as warm gooey feasts has been helping to turn that soggy frown upside down.

Without further ado, (last) week’s harvest: 

Pausing for a slight rant: according to my subscription, I am supposed to receive five vegetables and one fruit each week. For the past three weeks I have received two crates of tomatoes and no fruit. Yes, technically tomatoes are a fruit and I am starting to wonder if this is what they are counting on. We eat them like a vegetable, so one crate counts as a veggie, but then technically they are a fruit, so that base is covered as well? Lame.

(Still impressed with the quality of the iPhone 4 photos…)

Don’t get me wrong, they are delicious and the green stripey ones this week were fantastic served simply garnished by an amazing balsamic vinegar and good quality mozzarella as an appetizer for the main dish below. I still miss my mid-summer berries (Amanda, I am looking jealously at you) and stone fruits, and for just these few minutes I am going to pout about it (read: impatience explanation provided above). Ok, finished now. Thanks for your patience with that.

Ratatouille comes to mind immediately when faced with a bounty of tomatoes and eggplant, and I took that one step further making this soup staple. It was a great dinner for an impromptu girls gathering and made for excellent lunch leftovers in the following days. Now that I have soup on the brain, I am considering something like this for the weekend – the carrots desperately need a purpose, as they are currently languishing in my fridge (and wishing, I am sure, that they had gone on vacation instead).

The remaining tomatoes were used by Camille in a delicious roasted eggplant, tomato and goat cheese pasta bake . We had optimistically thought a pasta salad picnic would be perfect for watching The Triplets of Belleville (fantastic movie, by the way) under the stars. The mid-day downpour more than dampened our plans and made something gooey far more appealing.

Of course we should not forget the more-than-occasional salad. Nothing new there. I have yet to go through an entire head of lettuce in time by myself – especially when it feels more like October than (almost) August. At this point I find it hardly ironic that I am hoping that the vegetables will bring back some sunshine for the La Rentrée.

In Images: 14 Juillet (by night)

We left off with the sun setting…

This photo is pretty self-explanatory. I still think it’s hilarious.

We had a great view, as the darkness settled.

And the tower sparkled.

Then there were fireworks (feux d’artifice). I found it strange that they set the show to Broadway musical hits, including the grand finale set to ‘America’ from West Side Story, but our group of ex-pats certainly enjoyed it. They were beautiful:

And then, sparkles and fireworks! Be still my heart. And those hands in the way? Yes, the same person from above…

And then it was finished, with only the lingering smoke to remind us that it had been at all.

As is my (mostly) week of blogging about the event (hence the two posts in one day). It was a great day with much laughter and joy – I have been enjoying reliving it here.

And, for you, thoughts on these ‘images’ posts? I have so many photos taken over the past few months encompassing traveling I have done and things I have seen and often think that they tell their own story. Maybe a good goal for a weekly feature?

In Images: 14 Juillet (by day)

After sorting through the >1000 photos we all took on 14 Juillet, it became clear that the best way to share our celebration that day with all of you would be through those images. This was our day:

We arrived (extra) early to get a good spot in front of the Eiffel Tower. The military parade on the Champs-Élysées was just winding down, so we saw several massive helicopters doing low sweeps over the city. Disappointingly, it all started out grey and cool.

It did not take long for the clouds to break (although they would threaten to return for most of the afternoon). I was joined by two friends happy to help me reserve the space for those who could come later – and dive into picnic, round 1.

Much has already been said about our quirky neighbors, so I’ll keep it short. Suffice it to say that they took the party to an entirely new level and I will forever be grateful for that. It would not be a proper recap without them. Plus, they clearly are protecting us from evil, from wherever it may come…

Two hats were brought to the party and, at some point throughout the day, everyone wore one or the other – or, in my case, for a short time, both. As one friend put it, “Headgear does make people smile.” ‘Nuff said. Except, for next time, can someone please tell me I have pepper in my teeth before pictures get taken? Thanks.

Our little picnic grew (along with the crowd), as the day went on.

Another neighbor who had the cutest. baby. ever. Seriously, babies with glasses just get me. Every time.

The concert under the Tower began around 6pm. It was mostly French pop – a bit of which I recognized from occasionally overhearing French radio.  The crowd was massive and in good spirits (full of them them as well, at this point).

Of course, where there is music, there will be dancing. And in France, it is mandated somewhere that this must be some type of Can-Can. Right?

The sun started to set.

New friends were made.

Lights came on, and we were ready for the real party to begin…