Fleurs Jaunes

The Last Bite : The Poularde

Un Nouveau Chapitre 

Originally, this website was created to document meals, reviews, and whimsical musings. Today, it has evolved into more of an online inspiration board. It now serves the purpose of what Tumblr and Pinterest aspired to do, but what Instagram has excelled at. As Twitter and Vine and Path and Quora and Facebook and Google+ and YouTube and Vimeo and every other social-linking website continues to try to "connect" us with one another, let us not forget that there's a world of beauty just beyond the walls, windows and doors that keep us behind laptop, tablet, mobile and TV screens.

I've kept The Last Bite/La Poularde/The Poularde alive because it's a testament of the past ~6 years I've spent online. As the blog's content and thought evolved, the world of technology has expanded at an exponential rate. We now have hundreds of access points throughout the day that allow us to connect in ways our parents, grandparents and ancestors never had.

Experiencing life in a new form, approach, and outlet should always be exciting. As technology develops and affects the way we use our senses to interact with our surroundings, each of our own beautiful and mysterious paths will play out. How we balance it all is a winsome struggle. To read or not to read? To eat or not to eat? To speak or not to speak?

As a visitor of this website, you must acknowledge that you're quite lucky to have access to the Internet. Whether you intentionally sought La Poularde or merely stumbled upon it (see: StumbleUpon), I thank you for taking the time to get this far. Having breezed over thousands upon thousands of webpages and images in my life, to make it to paragraph 4 within any piece of writing requires a certain amount of commitment. Say, a bit of blind faith [that it's going to be worth it].

This online menhir acts as a symbol of the modern obelisk. We all digest content at such a rapid rate these days, one must ask themselves - does any of it sink in? Years ago, distractions and media came in far different forms. Were they any more concentrated than us? Will innovation foster with the manner we currently "teach" ourselves? Are all these blogs and likes and comments working towards anything greater?

Hopefully, yes. Hopefully, the good change will come. Hopefully, we will see the world differently and seek to better it. Now, whether this falls into the sea of other liquid crystals viewed yesterday or a year ago, depends on you. And me. And just about everyone else.

Thus, may we all continue to view the world with our own lens. But may we also be able to focus on the good. The areas to improve. The work to be done.

(Indeed, there's always more to be done.)

Cheers to what lies ahead.

-BJH

DCCL

In Review

Cavalier

Live To Eat

on the importance of restaurants

"Some of our most vivid memories are shared over a meal, but the memory isn’t solely created by the food or drink; a space – a home, a restaurant – and the people surrounding us are just as fundamental to creating these memories. We celebrate life’s milestones or daily victories or defeats, or just simply satisfy hunger when we step into a restaurant. And successful restaurants offer more than just food – it’s an experience, it has a story, it stays relevant, it connects with us."

-K. Murray

Fundamental

Early Bird

Campaign

Inside < Outside

Buckle

en vie?

Fear not, the poularde is not dead. Instead, he has taken it upon himself to study copious amounts of information for the past few weeks. He shall return, an enlightened man, ready to tell the tales and adventures he's been up to.

These may or may not include:

1. Excessive Drinking

2. Excessive Eating

3. Criticism (Life/Food)

4. Spending Money

5. [Not] Making Money

Though each of these may seem mundane, if not strikingly similar to your own lifestyle, my apologies. However, if you wish to be updated with poularde's drinking adventures, habits and ratings - your wait will end soon.

In the meantime, do what the poularde does best, and treat yourself to a good meal.

Stuff Yourself This Year: 2008

As you all can very well tell, the months of December and early January have frozen my ability to write. In fact, it has been little over a month since I have given myself a break from eating to come back to La Poularde. For that, my apologies.

But fear not, for I have been busy. The holiday season brought many wonderous meals, treats and culinary creations. Surrounded once again by a complete kitchen - stocked with ingredients, proper tools and utensils - I no longer had to cope with the square-centimeter starved kitchen I work with in Manhattan. That itself was most likely the best gift of all.

Above, if you have not noticed already, rests a tradition of obscenity and reverence. Quite the contrasting juxtaposition I will fairly agree, but beautiful nonetheless. The tradition is not just the turkey, served on Christmas day, but that of the picture itself. The "turkey ass" is more than just a cavity begging to be stuffed silly. It is rather a home to all that is holy - a cavern that produces - what I like to call the bounty of holiday meals, stuffing.

Unlike the crumbly, parched excuses many families refer to as stuffing or dressing, my mother's possesses an unnatural modicum of crunchyness within its mushy mess. Bits of oyster gush with briny flavor as they mix with crisp bits of celery. The turkey's own juices and fat, drippings from within that have soaked their way into the dressing, add just the right amount of buttery gloss and coating to the earthily seasoned stuffing. Its almost as if the two are necessary to one another - the turkey needs the stuffing, the stuffing most definitely needs the turkey.

Without the stuffing the turkey would be alone, naked and horribly dried out. Juices would run freely into the pan it cooks in and collect into an oleaginous pool of pinguidity. A revolting sight indeed, one that might even spurn others away from your heartfelt meal. Whereas on the other hand, without the turkey our beloved stuffing would have no home. Instead it would find its way into a sad cooking pan or microwave bowl, mixed with broth, egg or maybe cheap wine if the cook is feeling adventurous. But in the end, it just wound't be the same.

What I offer with this rather silly relationship between a turkey and its stuffing is that some things are just meant to be together. Some ingredients need others to prosper, others can stand alone and be great. But like the turkey, some cavities are just meant to be filled. In this case, our own.

Suggestive? Never. All I mean to say is: eat well this year, stuff yourself silly with only the best - and in return you all shall be very happy eaters. Of fine, delicious food.