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AN AMERICAN ACCOUNT OF PARIS : LIVING, EATING, AND TRYING TO SPEAK FRENCH

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

RESTAURANT REVIEW: CHERRY CRICKET

Okay, so if you are looking for a fabulous eatery in Paris this is not where you want to be. But being in Denver, Colorado didn't seem reason enough not to review the food. I may be a snob but I'm not blind. And today was one of the better meals I've had in a while.

The Cherry Cricket is located in the Cherry Creek neighborhood of Denver. It is known for it's delicious burgers and I must say that it stands up to its reputation. I've always loved this welcoming American burger joint and it is on my "to-do list" of things I want to accomplish while in Denver. So when the opportunity presented itself I jumped at the chance, prepared to take notes.




Set back behind me I entered the establishment bubbling with excitement. We were lucky enough to be going at an odd hour and therefore missed the long line expected at peak dining times. Not exactly charming, the restaurant is quite dark. It's composed of numerous rooms attached by walkways and halls. It seems like a place where it would be easy to get lost. But while the atmosphere may not be in-your-face enchanting, there is always an overall feel of pleasantness because the patrons enjoying their food is infectious. Perhaps one of my favorite things about the Cherry Cricket is their "add anything" list for their burgers. Not only do they have a multitude of toppings offered on the menu they also mention that if they have it in the kitchen, they'll put it on a burger.




I went for a winning combination. I ordered the Cricket (a half-pound patty on a soft sesame bun, with lettuce, tomato and onion) and piled on avocado, grilled bermuda onions, and an egg over easy. I then added on dijon mustard, mayo, and ketchup, and spread the avocado onto the bun to prevent it from sliding out upon biting. I cut the burger in half to expose the yolk which oozed out, mixing with the other condiments and creating a delicious and juicy combination. Though the bun was imbibed with this tantalizing sauce it still held together which I always appreciate since I'm American and eat my burgers with my hands (I do not respect you if you do otherwise). The onions were sweet and soft, the tomato was thick, red and juicy, the meat was pink perfection. It could possibly be one of the best burgers I've ever had.


My Cherry Cricket cricket burger creation. 


Not to be outdone, the Frings (an order of half fries, half onion rings, enough for two or three) were hot, crispy, and superb. The fries had that mysterious flaky crunchy layer on the outside that I love. It's as if they're battered in a spice mix which gives them a crispy skin and great flavor and makes them some of my favorite fries. The onion rings are also sublime and I refuse to order onion rings and not also order a side of ranch dressing. Frankly I think a side of ranch should come standard with all onion rings. An onion ring dipped in ketchup is just a monstrosity. But in ranch, it's absolute heaven. And these were some celestial rings.




I left full and happy and still had half of my burger to either feed to my boyfriend later or indulge in myself. I had just engaged in a decadent and fulfilling meal. For two 1/2 lb cricket burgers, a basket of frings and two craft beers we were only asked to sacrifice thirty two bucks. A local favorite, a good burger, a must do when visiting Denver, the Cherry Cricket never disappoints.




Monday, November 14, 2011

FRENCH SNOBBERY, IS IT CONTAGIOUS?

Oh wonderful Colorado. Great views. Great weather. Great beer. It's nice to be home, there is no doubt about that. But while there are so many wonderful things about Colorado one of them is not food. Well, let me rephrase that, one of them is not fancy food. Delicious burgers, pizza, subs, and finger foods abound this Rocky Mountain state. But whenever I was going to go out for a nice meal, there were really only a few places that I felt were worthy of my money. And now that I'm back from Paris, I think I'm even more of a self-righteous snob. Did I catch something?




The truth is that once you live in a city where great food is plentiful it's hard not to feel a bit spoiled. France takes their food extremely seriously. They have multiple food laws that American's would scoff at. One of which being that not all bakeries in one town can be closed on the same day. At least one unit must remain open so that the Frenchies can get their daily baguette. That's how important fresh bread is to them.




And when three different pastry shops on the same street have a regular line out the door, you know you are in a land where sweets are respected, not just used and abused. Last night I ate a good ol' fashion cake from a "French" bakery in Denver and let me just say, I think I've been ruined! This was a pretty good cake to tell you the truth, but it just didn't excite me the way that French pastries do. Sure I may eat a slice for breakfast, this cake was fluffy, the frosting was delicious, but there was something about it that just didn't bowl me over. French pastries have a cleanness to them and often subtle complexities that make you feel special just for eating them. How is yellow cake with chocolate frosting ever going to be able to stand up to an entremet of dark chocolate biscuit, praline, hazelnut mousse, chocolate mousse, chocolate glacage, and a sheet of Valrhona chocolate to top it off?




Something I hope to bring to the world when I finally open my undeniably enchanting shop, is a harmonious mixture between French and American pastries. I want to bring to the table what they both have to offer. Traditional American flavors done in the style of a French pastry. There's a reason I chose to go to France for my internship and it's not the healthcare. They make damn good desserts, and they've been doing it for years upon years upon years. For goodness sake, Vatel invented whipped cream! Whipped Cream! Do you know how big that is? It's essentially the wheel of the pastry world. That's huge!




Don't get me wrong, I love American desserts. What's better than a slice of hot apple pie with vanilla bean ice cream on top? Or how about a nice plate of brownies with a cold glass of milk? That's the thing I love about American pastry. The truly good ones stand completely on their own two humble feet. There's nothing particularly fancy about apple pie. And brownies don't exude any flare or pizazz. But they are so delicious, so comfortable, that they are two of my favorite things in the world. So perhaps instead of becoming a snobby French ass, or remaining a judgmental American, I'll try instead to see the beauty in both worlds. Bring some sort of harmony to this dichotomy. Not only do I think it will be exceptionally fun, but I also think it'll be delicious to boot.


Saturday, November 12, 2011

WEEKEND BLISS

Hello all! I am taking today and tomorrow off to enjoy my visit! I hope all of you have a wonderful weekend and find some way to manage without my witty banter.





Friday, November 11, 2011

JUST LIKE IN THE MOVIES

Well as I'm sure you can guess my surprise was a huge hit! Who wouldn't love for me to show up unannounced on their doorstep? Ingeniously planned, my boyfriend was home waiting for our friend, Seth, to show up (who of course was only a patsy) and instead was surprised by a knock at the door. I put the box of Pierre Macaron up to the peep hole to get the full "SURPRISE!" effect when he swung open his door. And boy was he surprised!




Flabbergasted I think would be the most appropriate word to describe his reaction. With a grin stretching so wide across his face I thought he would break it he kept saying, "Oh my God!" His hands wouldn't stop trembling and for hours he kept staring at me as if he was convinced that I was a mirage and would soon disappear. It was quite surreal. It's been seven months since we'd seen each other. It's been seven months since I've been back in Denver. It's been seven months since I've seen my pets. All of it was a lot to handle. But it was marvelous!




Surprises rarely work out as smoothly as you plan. But frankly this couldn't have gone any better. Being so ecstatic to see me that he felt like passing out was something I was hoping would happen but I wasn't going to bank on. After saying our hellos and embracing for an hour I finally had to pry apart his arms and assure him that I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. I was going to be here for two weeks. And beside that, I needed a drink of water.




It was also so wonderful to see my pets! I've missed them so much and I was extremely concerned that they were going to forget about me. Ellie, or German Shepherd, most certainly remembered me. She was so excited that I was there and kept staring at me just as Grant was. Whenever I went into another room she would follow me in there to make sure I wasn't going to suddenly disappear and according to Grant she's been acting a lot more playful and giddy than normal. My cat, Olive, on the other hand, had a slightly different reaction.


Ellie and me rolling around on the floor together. 


For the first night she was obviously pissed at me. How could you leave me alone with this dog? She seemed to say with her beautiful green eyes. How could you abandon me, we've been friends for so long and you just do me like that?! So when I picked her up and tried to love her against her will, she wasn't having any of it. She twisted and contorted until she finally squeezed her way out of my arms. But the next morning I awoke and she was laying next to me on the bed nuzzling up to my hand. I really did miss you. Pet me please! ...oh, and when's breakfast?




Olive and I couch snuggling.



I've only been here for two days but it's been wonderful. Grant had the same reaction to the Pierre Herme macaron that I did and insisted that I should make those in my own shop. I love that my family and friends and people who love me think that I am so awesome that duplicating these perfect macarons would be easy for me. Don't they understand that it took years and years for Pierre Herme to perfect this recipe and that millions of people try and fail to do the same? This isn't just like making a perfect batch of chocolate chip cookies. This is like recreating the Mona Lisa. It ain't no easy undertaking. And while I'll try and hopefully do an admirable job, I doubt that I will reach that level of heaven.




I haven't had a chance to see too many other people yet but have big plans to do so. I cannot wait to hear all about their lives since I've left and how empty they've felt without me around, how they had this giant void that they just couldn't fill. And meanwhile I look forward to sharing my adventures in Paris and coming off like the badass that I am. Seriously though, people get so excited to hear about what I'm doing I often feel like I have to amp it up a little bit with fancy words and hand movements in order to satisfy them. I really don't feel like I've done anything too exciting. But as I've said before, so many people have this dream of living abroad that they have expectations of what it must me like. I know that I did. And who am I to burst their bubble? So I'll go through the theatrics. God knows I love to. And while I'm here I'm also going to make sure and get some good American food. Burgers, biscuits and gravy, pizza, sub sandwiches, all my favorites. Nothing fancy, just things that make me happy. Isn't that what every really wants anyway?


Thursday, November 10, 2011

SURPRISE!

My boyfriend and I talk almost every day whether via email, gchat, or Skype. Most of what we talk about is how much we miss each other. I know, how nauseating is that?! I constantly nag him to come and visit me because, well, I'm a woman and lord knows we love to nag. I, personally, live for it! And while I am often convinced that I am 100% in the right, my boyfriend did have a legitimate point recently. It was bound to happen eventually. 




He made the point that since he has a job and I was no longer going to be working at my internship, that it would make much more sense for me to come and visit him. As we were discussing this I was still trying to figure out what to get him for his birthday. So just for fun I went online to see how much a flight would be. Of course it was going to be ridiculous, it was less than a week before his birthday. But thanks to Kayak.com this turned out to not be the case. A ticket was only 530 euros. How could I resist?




So I booked it and didn't tell him. This was just too good not to have it be a surprise. Of course my mother pointed out that it may go down in flames like so many surprises tend to but I told her that instead of being a mom with good advice she should actually blindly support me (I believe I actually called her a "wet blanket"). What did I care at that point if he was disappointed to see me, or even worse, had another girl hanging around? This was me living in the moment and consequences be damned! Plus I thought it would be romantic as hell if it turned out. And I could not wait to see the look on his face. 




So now a few days have passed and I am sitting in the airport waiting for my flight. For once in my life I left early to make sure I didn't miss it. This turned out to be a smart idea considering there was a strike on the RER and my train was all fubar'd. It took me a good fifteen minutes to figure out what was going on and then another 30 to figure out where the hell to go. I boarded the wrong train, of course, but this was an easy remedy and so I just got off and waited for the right one to come. But then there was another obstacle to hurdle. There were two terminal stops for Charles de Gaulle and I had no idea which one to take. 




I had actually written down all the information that I thought was important but had failed to write the terminal down. I'm still convinced that that was even given. Either way I took my chances and got off at the first one. Worse come to worse I could just get back on the train again and keep going. And hallelujah! It was actually the correct place to get off. Luck was turning my way! 

Going through airport bullshit is probably on my top ten list of things I hate to do. Waiting in line sucks in general but especially when its with a bunch of people stressing out about missing their flight. And when you have to go through customs this is bound to happen at least three times. Plus there's lots of walking and looking at signs and people who take advantage of the smidgen of authority they have. It's essentially a melting pot of all the things that give me a headache and make me feel like I need to shower. 




But something interesting I observed while on this odyssey to my gate was my status within this mass of people. I am certainly not French. But I am also not a tourist. I actually do, on occasion, try to speak french to people and on an even more rare occasion we understand each other. I also am used to the french attitude and so it doesn't get under my skin as much as it used to. It's not personal, its just their personality. So it was somewhat humorous for me to watch all these American tourists fumbling in the French system and being, well American. Who was I?




I don't really know but I do find it somewhat hilarious that I obviously think I'm superior to the French as a whole because, well, I'm not French. And at the same time I think I'm superior to American tourists because I'm not a tourist, and really who likes those fools? I just hope I don't become one of those people who, upon returning to the US, feels all high and mighty because they lived abroad. I mean I am cooler but really, everyone already knows that, I don't need to rub it in their face. 


deliriumfashion.blogspot.com


So for the time being I'm just going to surprise my boyfriend and hope it goes over well. The gigantic box of Pierre Herme macarons that I brought for him shouldn't hurt either. And of course I brought a few smaller ones to buy my friends with. The truth is when someone lives abroad and comes home, I think it's just rude not to bring goodies with you. What kind of A-Hole does that? It's something you always look forward to when your parents go on awesome trips, so why not bring that little bit of childhood with you in your carryon? 




Wednesday, November 9, 2011

KITCHEN TOOLS - PART DEUX

1. KitchenAid Mixer


     A good mixer is a key element to any kitchen. Especially if you plan do to any type of baking. Sure hand mixers are old school and easy to store but really, what a pain?! Perhaps my first memory of baking is with my mother in the house we grew up in. I can distinctly remember mixing chocolate chip cookies in our old, white, KitchenAid mixer. My favorite part was adding the brown sugar because I loved how it held the shape of the measuring cup before disintegrating into the liquid of the eggs. Not to mention that the dough after this addition was always my favorite. No flour, no chips, just sugar, eggs, butter, and vanilla. How could it not be good?

     The point is, that a good standing mixer is something that makes life much easier and is ripe for memory creation. I am a bit partial to KitchenAid when it comes to domestic use because I think they are top quality, come in fun colors, and I have a personal relationship with them dating back to my youth! My boyfriend gave me my own first KitchenAid the first Christmas we spent together. It was a huge hit.

     Something to be aware of is that the style that locks up and down is useful but takes up a lot more height space than the original version, so keep that in mind if you plan on storing it under something else. Other than that go buck wild! There are so many colors and designs, accessories and add-ons these days its hard not to have fun with it even before you get to the actual baking!




2. Nonstick pan


     My lovely sister reminded me of this necessity. A decent nonstick pan is a must have if you ever plan on making eggs, specifically eggs over easy which is the only way I think eggs ever should be made. God made the yolk that yummy for a reason people! But nothing is more tragic then when you go to flip your delicious morning ovum, it sticks to the pan, and crack, your yolk and your dreams are broken! How am I supposed to start my day off right when something that catastrophic occurs straight out of the gate? While one solution is frying your eggs in buckets of bacon grease, this isn't exactly something that my heart is too excited about. So while it may be delicious a healthier alternative is investing in a decent nonstick pan. These come in handy for many other things as well but just remember, invest in a good quality rubber spatula. The only worse than a broken yolk is a scratched up nonstick pan.




3. Bench Knife


     The first day on the job at the Denver Bread Company, my boss introduced me to the bench knife. "Always have one of these by your side," he told me, "this will become more important than your own hands. In fact, it will become an extension of your own hand so make sure you always have one at the ready." This was completely true. Bench knives are essential when dealing with bread dough but they are darn handy when it comes to other things as well. They're a great way to scrape anything off of your cutting board including chopped veggies, herbs, dough, flour, you name it. Before I clean off my butcher block at home I always give it a good scrape with my bench knife to accelerate the process. And I'm sure you'll find numerous of your own uses as well.


lighthousebakery.co.uk


4. Dough Scraper


     A dough scraper is a must have in the pastry world. Like a gigantic spatula, a dough scraper is much more efficient at scooping out goodies from the bottom of the bowl. This goes beyond just dough to frostings, ice creams, ganache, caramel, anything particularly sticky. So if you like to make sure you get every last single solitary drop, a dough scraper is something I recommend you have in your arsenal.


loafonline.co.uk


5. Music


     I should have known that something was wrong with Pain de Sucre when there was no music playing. I have never before worked in a kitchen where music wasn't always on. It's one of the joys of not working in an office! (Well that and the open swearing). Music and food are intertwined if you ask me. They're both expressions of the soul that one shares with another. And I find that I work better and the food tastes better if I have some good tunes on. My personal cooking favorites are Billie Holiday, Nat King Cole, Brenda Lee, and other classics, but really whatever gets you in a positive mood and makes you move is something that will help you not only enjoy being in the kitchen but also to make quality dishes.




6. Scissors


     Scissors are awesome outside of the kitchen and so I'm sure you all have at least one pair in your house. But I highly recommend that you go to your nearest office supply store and stock up on at least one other pair for your kitchen. Scissors can have many different helpful uses in the kitchen. They're great for cutting off the tip of a pastry bag and I use them all the time for cutting up my herbs. And let's not ignore the fact that most kitchen tools come packed so tightly in hard plastic that without a pair you may go insane trying to claw your way into whatever is trapped inside.




7. Large Mixing Bowl


     So while a large mixing bowl comes standard with a KitchenAid mixer, I also recommend a large more shallow bowl for hand mixing. Anytime I have a dinner party it seems as if I can't have enough large mixing bowls. Good for marinading, breading, mixing sauces, whipping eggs or batter a mixing bowl is something you should have at least one (well maybe two) of. Plus if you find one that is attractive it can double as a serving dish on your table. I always love a two-fer.




8. Whisk


     Come on people, if you have a kitchen and you don't have a whisk something has gone horribly awry. Whisks aren't just for baking! I use mine constantly for sauces and gravies. Sure I've had to make do once or twice with two spoons but it just wasn't the same. And besides, I think they are the coolest looking tool in the kitchen. I recommend at least two, one large and one small. And I wouldn't go for the trendy silicone ones, I've found them to be quite disappointing. The good, old fashioned style works the best from what I've seen. There's a reason it has been the same for years.




9. Good Quality Brush


     Whether your brushing a turkey with butter and wine, ribs with BBQ sauce, or pie crust with egg wash, a nice brush is a must have. Nothing bothers me more than a brush that sheds while brushing. I may as well use the hair from my head! For some reason it grosses me out beyond belief while simultaneously annoying me because I have to waste seconds trying to gently pick out the hair from my well decorated crust. In an attempt to avoid this I invested in a silicone brush but, again, I found that it just wasn't the same. While it may be good for some things it just doesn't do quite the job that a hair brush will do. It doesn't hold onto the sauce or wash as well and is much too rough on delicate pastries or doughs.




10. Sense of humor


     Things go wrong in the kitchen. For me they seem to go wrong all the time, and while I still struggle with just letting them go, I've found that the best thing to do is have a sense of humor about it. Just as I remember making chocolate chip cookies with my mom I can remember laughing in the kitchen over something that ended disastrously. I once fell asleep while waiting for a pie. This taught me two things. 1) Don't start making a pie at 1am in the morning and 2) Pie's really shouldn't be baked for 2 hours. While I was lucky that I didn't burn the house down, I also chuckled as I ate my pear pie that now seemed to be filled with a mushy pear sauce instead of delicate, tender slices of delicious fruit. Perhaps my favorite kitchen calamity is when my parents were throwing their annual Christmas party and because they had just invested in a new, fancy oven, the prime rib sat, still cold, for hours until someone realized that the oven had never been turned on. This resulted in some microwaving and late night eating but all the same it wasn't the end of the world and it's a story my mother still tells twenty years later.

     After my horrific experience at Pain de Sucre I know that having a sense of humor is a good thing in every experience. Life is here for us to enjoy it and when things go wrong it's best to find the laughter in the moment. This is especially true in the kitchen because while I take my cooking very seriously, at the same time nothing is more funny or pathetic than a burnt chicken. Laugh at the chicken, laugh at yourself, and order some pizza. In the long run no one will be upset that the chicken got flambeed. They'll just enjoy the giggles and time you spend together.





Tuesday, November 8, 2011

LET THE GAMES BEGIN

So now that I am an official blogger I need to crack down and get serious! There's so much I want to do, see, and most importantly, EAT! Not only that but I am also so excited about living here in Paris instead of just suffering some of the worst of the worst French people in the city.




Though it wasn't exactly planned that way, Elze had a dinner party the night I decided to quit my internship and never return and so I took it as a personal gift and as a dinner celebrating my grand exit. Elze was a wondrous hostess as always and served us pasta in a six-mushroom cream sauce followed by duck breasts on a bed of greens. The most amazing part was that she had no oven and so had to get a bit creative with some of her cooking. One wouldn't know, however, because everything was delicious!




I stayed until everyone else had gone and Elze and I remained chatting and drinking whiskey soda's until 3 o'clock in the morning. Since the Metro stops before this enchanted hour I ended up crashing on her pullout bed with her on one side and Suanne on the other. Whether the bed was comfortable or not I'm not exactly sure, but I did discover that whiskey makes a wonderful sleeping pill. After sleeping in until 1pm I decided to finally make the trek back home via Metro and was not to pleased with all the pumping around in a hot stuffy train car filled with people smell.




So while it may not have been the most romantic or graceful way to step into my freedom, since then I think I've been doing fairly well. Just yesterday, for example, I went on a little mission to find a small kitchen boutique that I discovered after a tour of the Musee d'Orsay. The shop is beautiful and is filled with tons of hand painted, french serving dishes. I bought my sister a birthday present there and thought it might be a great place to look for Christmas presents. "Isn't it a bit early to be Christmas shopping?", you may be asking, but since every year I put it off to the last minute I am trying to learn from my mistakes and get it going earlier.

While I may have neglected to remember the exact street this charming shop was on I did remember that it was right near a Laduree. How divine, I thought to myself, I can stop for some macarons on my way. I of course ended up going to the wrong Laduree but since it took me a whole day to realize that it was Sunday and my little shop would be closed, I figured that it didn't make much of a difference anyway.




I was meeting up with Elze and Suanne and the three of us popped into Laduree to buy some macarons. The place was absolutely packed. The restaurant had a line out the door and the macaron boutique was practically overflowing. I went for a licorice (which had a caramel filling), a salted caramel, a green apple, a lemon, and a cassis. They were all lovely with the salted caramel and green apple being my favorites. Really, these are a superb cookie. If you can even call them that. I am going to spend hours and hours days and days trying to perfect my macaron shell because after biting into Laduree's crispy exterior, soft cookie interior and having the textural holiness followed by such divine fillings, I want to be able to offer that kind of bliss to other people.




Though I claimed that I would only have one to start and finish the rest after lunch, by the time we sat down at Cafe de l'Olympia at 2 Rue Seze, I was swallowing the last bites of my last macaron. These are intense little delicacies that are supposed to be savored in small quantities, but being the American I am I just couldn't help myself. They're so damn tasty! Plus I had five different flavors. I didn't want to play favorites and leave one waiting to join the others in my belly.

With a stomach full of almond flour and powder sugar, we sat down to have a drink. We had stumbled on the place and weren't sure if we would trust the food but my roommate Christy and her hunky boyfriend, Mr. Johnson were in the vicinity and we thought it would be a shame not to meet up. But as they were serving us our wine we all took a look around at the food other people were receiving. From the first glimpse of a plate of escargot I knew I wanted to eat there. Plus the fries (or frites) looked like they would be a nice greasy complement to the macarons chillin' in my gut.




Feeling a new appreciation for all things French I decided not to hold back and went ahead and ordered a plate of escargot and cuisses de la grenouille (frogs legs). If only I hadn't left my beret at home I would have felt completely in the mood. I may have even lit up a cigarette just to look like on of the cool kids. But even without the stereotypical getup I enjoyed my meal (along with some of Mr. Johnson's and Elze's fries) and felt excited for the days to come. Now all I needed was my camera, my notebook, and a mission.




So get ready folks. There's a whole big city out there just waiting for me to explore it. I can't wait to have a macaron-off, or uncover my favorite hidden shop. I can't wait to fumble through my limited amount of French, to drink wine on the Champs, or spend a day at an art show. And the best part is that there is a purpose to all of it. Making this about my blog and not just about me gives me an objective, a focus, and well... a purpose. Sure having my job title be "blogger" may be a bit flaky, especially with my 20 readers to back it up, but it's all I need to feel validated. So let the games begin. I'm ready to get this party started and pump up the volume. The race is on, and who let the dogs out?