NYT: Daniel, 3-Stars

23 JULY 2013

Serving the Stuff of Privilege

By PETE WELLS

Your job may be worrying you, or your father’s health, or your own. You may have been up at 2 that morning drafting a better ending for a long-ago memory. But certain restaurants, if you can afford them, can knock down the barriers between you and happiness for a few hours. Every taste seems to transport you to another world, while every gesture of the staff convinces you that you live in the privileged center of this one.

Daniel, which turned 20 this year, can make you feel that way. Does chilled pea soup sound like the stuff of privilege? It is when it comes from this kitchen, where Jean François Bruel has been the executive chef since 2003, and which Daniel Boulud, the proprietor, watches over from a windowed perch above the saucepans and sieves.

Those sieves got a workout on this soup, straining it to a gliding smoothness. It had the clear, refreshing sweetness of the smallest peas eaten straight from the pod. Salty diamonds of smoked sable and a white ring of rosemary-infused cream helped the soup’s purity shine more clearly. This kind of exquisitely sensitive, profoundly seasonal, fundamentally French cooking helped lift Daniel to several four-star reviews in The New York Times, the most recent one by Frank Bruni in 2009.

Again and again, I have been startled by the excellence of Mr. Bruel’s ingredients and his talent for unlocking all they had to offer. I have never tasted more calmly flavorful veal tenderloin, or fresher and more gently handled swordfish, or a more skillfully roasted breast of guinea hen.

But some of these star ingredients were embedded in elaborate, multipart compositions that didn’t fully reward the attention they demanded. At times, the restaurant gave the impression that it was trying to garnish its way to greatness.

And while the service can be among the best in the city, with a supreme attentiveness softened by a surprising warmth and even chattiness, it is not always that way for everyone. When people who are known at the restaurant tell me about their meals, they look blissful. Others look disappointed or resentful as they tell me about cramped tables in the neoclassical arcades around the grand sunken dining room and hasty, perfunctory service.

One night I had a reservation 15 minutes apart from a colleague who wasn’t likely to be recognized, as I repeatedly was. We both ordered the six-course $195 tasting menu. (A three-course prix fixe dinner is $116.) Our meals were virtually identical. Our experiences were not.

The kitchen sent two amuse courses to my table. His got one. A few remaining sips of my wine, ordered by the glass, were topped off. His glass sat empty at times while he waited to be offered another.

We both ate extraordinary fried lollipops of filleted frogs’ legs on a long stick of bone, but only I was then brought a napkin-covered bowl of rosemary- and lemon-scented water for rinsing my fingers.

My servers were solicitous: Was this course, or that one, or that one, prepared to your liking? Was the pacing of the meal satisfactory? Could we interest you in a cheese course? Would you like your espresso with dessert, or after? Finally, as I neared the revolving door on East 65th Street: Can we help you find a cab tonight?

My colleague wasn’t asked any of those questions. Still, the next morning, he reported feeling very well taken care of. And a restaurant can’t be blamed for trying to impress a critic.

It can be faulted, though, for turning its best face away from the unknowns, the first-timers, the birthday splurgers, the tourists. They are precisely the people who would remember a little coddling at a place like Daniel for years.

And while a missing finger bowl won’t seriously mar anyone’s evening, missing Daniel’s cheese cart might. It is one of the finest four-wheeled vehicles in New York. Whenever I wondered if I really wanted cheese, a server would lay his knife on a soft wheel, pressing gently. The mounded top would fall for a moment then rise up again, gracefully and almost willingly. After that, the question was not if I should have some, but how many kinds could fit on one plate.

It was just as pointless to try to wave away the basket of Mark Fiorentino’s gorgeous breads, like a garlic focaccia, round and dimpled in the center. Rajeev Vaidya, the head sommelier, shepherded me past the many bottles that could land a weak wine lover in debt to more affordable ones. He has a 2007 halbtrocken from the German riesling maker Georg Breuer. Some buyers scoffed at the vintage, pushing prices down, but not Mr. Vaidya. A bottle can be yours for the princely sum of $25.

Recently, the title of executive pastry chef passed from Sandro Micheli to Ghaya Oliveira, and the dessert course, already exciting, has a little more energy. Ms. Oliveira’s approach is more modern and wide-ranging, embracing unusual spices and exuberant swipes of color. Her mint-scented strawberries are a giddy, flagrant essay in pink, with triangles of watermelon, columns of half-frozen strawberry mousse and ladyfingers tinted with powdered strawberry skin. It was a soft, lilting summer tune I won’t get out of my head before Labor Day.

The courses before dessert could be just as wonderfully haunting. I’d give a lot to recapture the happiness I got from slow-baked abalone, rich with creamed avocado and slightly tart with heart-shaped wood sorrel. I’m still transfixed by a peekytoe crab salad’s bravura variations on apple and celery, carried through to the juices in a walnut-oil vinaigrette.

And nothing quite prepared me for the untamed whoosh of intense green herbs in a bowl of olive-oil-poached cod teased into big, glistening flakes, then seasoned with za’atar and a bright cilantro sauce.

But the kitchen’s compulsion toward complexity could also result in a proliferation of dollhouse garnishes. Grilled sweet shrimp were outfitted with a heart of palm purée, microcubes of mango and cucumber, bok choy, tiny tapioca crackers, curls of shaved hearts of palm, among other things. The parts never quite gathered into a rush of flavor.

A variation on Mr. Boulud’s classic roasted sea bass with syrah sauce came with radicchio so bitter I wanted to slap it. A drum of sweet potato purée with a candylike crust of marrow on top only made the next bite of radicchio harder to take.

The kitchen loves to put two or three treatments of an ingredient side by side, when it might do better to focus on the one that works best. In a triptych of striped jack, a poached piece on a salad of mustard seeds with cubes of riesling gelée tasted as if the components were destined to be together. But there wasn’t the same inevitability about the lettuce-wrapped dumpling of striped jack tartare topped with caviar, or the smoky rillettes surrounded by crunchy carrot and asparagus.

Daniel built its fame on Mr. Boulud’s exquisite refinements on French peasant food. Over the years, the refinements have multiplied while the peasant food has been sent away to his many spinoff bistros.

Traces of it are still around, as in the short rib braised in red wine, half of a beef duo. The last time I tasted it, I was sure it was the finest French beef stew in existence. I knew my servers were trying to make my night one I’d recall with a smile. And I wished everyone could be so lucky.

Daniel

★★★

Boulud, Batali, Meyer

GOTHAM

By JILL SIERACKI

Regardless of whether you consider yourself a “foodie” or just dabble in New York gastronomy, you have certainly heard the names Mario Batali, Daniel Boulud, and Danny Meyer. The three men represent more than two dozen Manhattan eateries, ranging in size and scope from a New York Times four-star establishment to a multifaceted gourmet market or casual burger chain so popular even New Yorkers are willing to wait hours in line. However, their accomplishments are hardly limited to the kitchen—each has expanded his empire into products, cookbooks, and even television programs.

And while their areas of expertise greatly vary, there are many things the three have in common. “A through-line between us is restaurants with soul,” says Meyer. “You can’t be born with soul, but you can definitely earn soul over time, and it starts with the spirit of the restaurateur. It starts with the sense that nothing matters more than having this idea, pulling together a really talented team to execute the idea, caring deeply about the relationship between your idea and the staff, guests, and community, and you end up with these relationships with your alumni, with the regulars at the restaurant, with your community— it’s a really cool thing.”

Over the course of their careers, these three restaurateurs have produced an exemplary roster of alumni—Tom Colicchio, Andrew Carmellini, and White House executive pastry chef Billy Yosses among them—and in the coming months will be celebrating several milestones: Boulud will be marking the 20th anniversary of his namesake Upper East Side restaurant Daniel next fall as well as launching a new cookbook and restaurant in Toronto. Meyer is expanding his Shake Shack brand to Long Island and Connecticut, finishing Family Table, a cookbook filled with menus from nightly staff dinners, and releasing a new cookbook from Gramercy Tavern. Batali is expanding his Eataly empire, opening Carnevino in Hong Kong, and finishing In Search of the Genuine, a book cowritten by Jim Harrison about game cooking throughout the Midwest and beyond.

Here, as the city prepares to celebrate all-things epicurean at the Food Network New York City Wine & Food Festival, which hosts events across Manhattan and Brooklyn October 11 through 14, Batali, Boulud, and Meyer gathered at Meyer’s Maialino to discuss Yelpers’ influence on New York dining, being the Ivy League of restaurants, and the importance of staying the course.

How do you think this month’s Food Network New York Wine & Food Festival has impacted the dining scene in the city?

MARIO BATALI: When I look at the year, I see that there are really three events that I pay attention to. The first one has always been the James Beard Foundation Awards; then there’s the Big Apple Barbeque Block Party (it just brings in so much information, so many cool people, and different stuff than we would normally do); and then the Wine & Food Festival. It makes sure that we’re always still at the crossroads. It’s bringing everyone in, first of all for them to show us what they are doing, but also it gives us the opportunity and the pride to show people what we’re doing.

DANNY MEYER: And this particular one has also done great things to fight hunger. They raise an enormous amount of money for the Food Bank for New York City and Share Our Strength.

DANIEL BOULUD: We are in the business of entertaining people, but we are not in the business of entertaining them publicly. And I think Wine & Food offers an opportunity to be entertained with the great chefs, the great talents, the great foods.

For each of you, the majority of your restaurants are in New York. Why have you chosen to base your careers here?

DM: I don’t know of a city on earth that has a better balance of talented staff, a more sophisticated potential clientele from which you can draw, and a more interested media to shine a light if you do a good job. You have those three things together; where else would you rather be?

MB: You can totally curate an experience to the exact level that you want, knowing that even if you turn a few people off, because there’s such a good volume here, you’ll turn even more people on. In New York City, even if 2 million people hate you, there are 9 million left—and you don’t say that with some strange, swollen self-worth. It’s more that if we decide to play this music, have the lights like this, and serve this kind of food, there is a group of people who are going to support that.

DB: After living in France, I went to Denmark, and I realized that I was in a country with no audience. To me, coming to New York meant you could stay who you are and you’re going to have an audience for it with the money to support what we can do, which is great food, great service, great wine.

What do you see as the exciting culinary trends happening in New York right now?

DM: Better beverages. Chefs at breakfast are looking at fresh-pressed juices the same way that they’re looking at beer, coffee, and wine—and it should have the same level of sophistication.

DB: Growing food on your roof like Danny does at North End Grill; that’s the big thing. [Tribeca Grill chef] Don Pintabona was trying to open a mushroom farm in an old silo in Brooklyn. Urban farming is how close we can bring it to the consumer. That’s interesting, but we’re not really chasing the trends.

DM: Everything that we do is based on classic technique and hospitality. And what’s great is you get to see how people who have graduated from our kitchens put their own twist on that technique and make something their own. New York is an incredibly expensive city in which to open a restaurant, which is why you see so much casual stuff happening, especially in Brooklyn.

MB: When I got here in 1992 the East Village was where people who couldn’t open a restaurant or an atelier went because the rent was low and the threshold to get into your own business was much lower. Now the East Village is expensive, and the people are in Williamsburg. You find the crazy, arty ideas in places where the thresholds to get into the game are much lower.

DM: When there are fewer seats to fill, you can have a sharper point of view: I don’t need salmon on my menu if I only have 22 seats; as soon as I have 180 seats, I have to have salmon. Every year that I’ve been in this business, there’s a new trend. The first year I got into business in New York City, 1985, the big trend was mesquite grilling. Then two years later the next trend was architectural presentation on the plate. The next t rend was making your sauces out of vegetable juices. A restaurant needs to stand the test of time, and, year in and year out, the staff is great, the food is consistent, the place is full—it is so much harder than you think to do that, especially because the media loves to focus on what’s brand new and you can only be new once. In order to stay in business and stay busy, you’re really developing a culture.

What is a unique challenge to operating a restaurant in New York?

MB: The tendency to constantly chase the microhits that involve being very hip right now. In a world where social media is becoming so relevant, it can often deter you from keeping a very steady ship, thinking, “I so want to do a pop-up restaurant with René Redzepi,” but in the long term, maybe your brand is better served by a slightly longer vision. There’s so much temptation to involve yourself in the things that everyone does. My greatest weakness is always wanting to copy somebody else very quickly, and in New York City there’s no better place to do that.

DB: Once you drop somewhere, you start to really root yourself. I stay in the Upper East Side; I landed there by coincidence in 1982, and I never left the zip code.

DM: I agree 100 percent. The only thing maybe is the other side of the coin of what Mario said is that in a city that has so many restaurants and so many people commenting on those restaurants....

MB: Yelpers, we call them....

DM: ....it’s increasingly hard to come up with an idea that is both fresh and relevant today. The fads come and go; they always have, but the one thing that remains is everyone wants to go out, be well treated, and eat good food. I don’t think any of us shies away from competition.

What are some restaurants that you enjoy going to that are not your own?

DB: The first week I arrived in New York, the president of the hotel I was working for said, “We’d like to take you to the best restaurant,” and they took me to the Four Seasons. I didn’t really understand what “the best” meant at that time, but for most birthdays for the past 25 years, I’ve been going to the Four Seasons just because I love that place.

MB: My birthday is coming up, and it’s actually between the Four Seasons (because my children have never been there) and Blanca, which is [Bushwick restaurant] Roberta’s tasting menu place. I’m going to let the kids choose.

DM: Out of 10 dining experiences, I really like six of them to be at a place I’ve never been because I learn something new, but I also really like going to four that have been around for a long time. I love going to restaurants that have the equivalent of bottle age, where the pedigree has shown through, and the restaurant has actually enriched itself. Of the new places I try, I would say that 90 percent of them are either opened by friends or by alumni.

MB: Let me just suggest that each of us choosing four restaurants, three of those four will be within four to six blocks of our house because that’s how New Yorkers operate. I will go to Pearl Oyster Bar at least once or twice a month.

DM: That’s Casa Mono for us.

MB: You go to these places because they give you exactly what you came for. People aren’t going to take a taxi up to Rao’s even if they like lemon chicken and fusilli with cabbage and sausage. New Yorkers are very geographically based. In a city where it is so tempting to be segmented into being the pizza guy or the dumpling guy, how do you define yourselves?

MB: All three of us are the guys who no longer want our restaurants to be a dinner party. We want to offer a variety of experiences. We’re not the meatball guy—although we’ll have a great meatball—sadly and yet remarkably, we’re The Man. We are not the indie band, although we were the indie bands when we started, and we have indie band brains. We’re the guys who the young guys have to figure out how to beat or compete with.

DM: If I were going to make a metaphor, it would be almost like being three great universities because I think that people who come through our restaurants to work go on to do really remarkable things. I would love if the metaphor is that we were universities—Ivy League no less.

Hayrick

Hoodwink

Shellac

Treble

Resurrect

Flush

Dos y Dos

Colicchio and Batali to produce 'Hungry in America' documentary

By Krista Simmons, Los Angeles Times

Filmmakers Lori Silverbush and Kristi Jacobson are currently in production on the film "Hungry in America," exploring why so many people in our country go without food, and what can be done about it. The film is co-produced by Silverbush's husband, "Top Chef" judge Tom Colicchio, along with another well-known culinary superstar, Mario Batali.

"In a country as wealthy as ours, it's amazing that so many people are going without. Forty-nine million people experience hunger in this nation, 17 million of which are children," Silverbush asserts. "The effect on the productivity of our society is extremely negative. And it's largely due to mismanagement of resources rather than scarcity."

Read more about the documentary (and guess where the film's kickoff event will be):

The team is currently about 20% through filming of the full-length documentary. Silverbush said it will explore the food stamp program, school lunches and other critical issues regarding the state of our country's food system.

"This film is the centerpiece in a multimedia campaign against hunger," she says. "People need to know that this problem can truly be solved if it's dealt with correctly."

Silverbush hopes the film will create awareness and will eventually be used as a tool for lobbying Congress. They've partnered with the FEED Foundation and will be hosting a kickoff event at Craft Los Angeles for the Hungry in America Project in late February. Though there's no set film release date, she anticipates it will debut in early 2011.

Ramblings

At 3 A.M. there was the banging again. They weren’t really thuds – it was more like they were carrying pianos up the stairs. Or maybe it was down them? But the pianos of course didn’t make any noise. They were probably coffins then. Were they coffins? Who carries a coffin down six flights of stairs only to drag it along cobblestones. Wet cobblestones. Slippery fucking stones that sit unevenly on la terre, asking you to twist an ankle or stub your toe. Maybe a trip here and there? These are the times that test men's souls, aren’t they. Or was it try? No, no – scratch that. Someone famous wrote that one.

I remember the night before as if it were the night before. Dirty whores, slutty men and equestrian shoes. What about the leather? Couldn’t it have been ruined by the drink-after-drink method of ingestion? Someone was drinking a concoction that night that wasn’t necessarily natural – there was a twist or a twinge to it. If anything was clear, it surely wasn’t.

Women wore crosses to help them feel sanctified, when in reality they wanted to remain pious to a different kind of sacrifice. If He died on a cross, maybe someone else would get nailed for the people. Spears, blood and a holy cloth to decorate the scene. All we needed was a Roman or a soldier. Is that what they call them nowadays? Galluses or Gauls, one of the two surely isn’t there any more. Excuse me dear; I’ll take another 10 EUR Corona. My dearest gal is waiting at the table.

In time I realized there was an art to the pole. I stepped up, literally, and stared her in the eyes. She sort of hesitated for a little bit then backed away. Maybe she wasn’t ready for what I had in store. However, store rhymed with whore so it seemed like an open door. Wasn’t she used to the A plus B equals C combination? Or was I incompetent? I opted not to go through with it because her face reminded me of a contorted Persian boxer covered in Sephora’s discount bin. I wanted to recommend a better place to shop but I just felt sorry her. After that I really had no desire to go on. I stepped down, removed myself and let her be. I think someone ended up stuffing a few bills in her G-String later that night. I hope they had a good time sweating it out.

During the waking hours I felt it was better to walk off whatever it is I had jammed into my body the previous day, night and morning before. I kept myself quite active but only for the reason of wanting to stay busy. Baguettes were a common form of fuel as well as alcohol. The combination didn’t make much sense to anyone, but at least it did to me. Somewhat. Every now and then I’d mix it up with a slice of gateaux or some other form of cadeau to entertain myself. MC Solaar or whatever else that guy’s name was - he definitely would’ve fit in with that one store. What did I call it? “The French Version of Kohl’s?” Once again, it rains all over this place.

It reminded me of my childhood. There were dark corridors and cold, cold tiles. I stared down for a second only to be reminded I had other things to do. The morning breeze came in through the window and turned the follicles of my skin into a pasture of my own kind of cobblestones. I fucking hated those cobblestones but at the same time I loved them. There’s something about the oddities and inconsistencies that satisfied me temporarily. I soon brushed them off and went on with my day. I guess you could say I went on – instead I sort of just sat there.

Already the characters were getting closer to their set destinations. Many were mingling while others were just getting ready. Indeed there are always a few who seem to avoid all this. More power to them, I guess. The only thing is that in the end, it probably won’t work out for them. While they’re off enjoying whatever it is they do to entertain themselves, others will be honing in on the right section or quadrant that they need to find themselves in. It’s like hopscotch or four-square: Miss a step or fall out of a beat and you get it right in the face. Hold on tight and keep your eyes focused, accidents tend to happen. Before you know it, you’re on the bottom while someone else gets on top.

The cycle went on, but I still felt that I needed a glimpse of nature. I wanted to avoid the usual and move on to the days in life where I could just hand over gold bullion and nothing else would matter. I imagined the days where I’d be able to just sit there and throw shit at them. While I ate my cake and scoffed at this and that. I didn’t want the court or any of its players – I wanted the whole goddamn arena. But did I ever get it? Of course not. That would require something as epic as Gladiator. Good thing life’s not like the movies – otherwise I’d be finding a dagger right in my side, unwilling to escape or even heal up. Excuse me while I take yet another doozy doze.

QUOTE.
“However, self-styled travelers are also outsiders, engaging with the ‘Other’; they may better be labeled ‘anti-tourists,’ since the uniqueness and authenticity they claim for their own experiences direct opposite of what they reject in ‘tourism.’ Likewise, the claim to independence does not necessarily entail traveling independently. Even when traveling in groups, they may seek to separate themselves from the shared experience; and the tourist may momentarily assume the position of the traveler. The advertising for package tours today makes much of the possibility of the unique, ‘authentic’ experience that may be found just off the beaten track.”

BIER.
2 Feb 09
Beer: George Killian’s, Biere Rousse, Bière Spéciale de Tradition Irlandaise, 6.5% ABV
Location: G20, Rue de Chaillot, 16é, Paris, FR
Price: 4,61€/6pk. 25cl
Grade: 5.7

Though I have surely had the American import of G. Killian’s, I was curious as to how they do it in Europe/France. Same creaminess, spunk and punchy cedar notes that are also ‘available’ in the U.S. version. Quite sweet though, as if they mixed in some honey for the French. I wouldn’t blame them though, all the other beers I’ve purchased here are on the ‘sweet side.’ Then again, all of the past couple of beers have been shit beers. Maybe I should change where I’m buying the beer? Nonetheless, it has baby hops and shallow taste, body and structure. Very simple-minded and straight forward: Minor flicker in the beginning, tickles the tongue then dies out into a boring wash. Some almond taste as well as clove, but as if it were haphazardly thrown into the brewing process. Sloppy brew with sloppy results.

VIN.
3 Feb 09
Wine: Vin de Pays de la Vicomté d’Aumelas, Jules Vulcraud, 2007, 12.5% ABV
Location: G20, Rue de Chaillot, 16é, Paris, FR
Price: 5,60€/750mL
Grade: 3.1

Blackberries, raspberries and black currant immediately. Not very lively at all though, quite flat and boring. Faint aroma, mostly that of cheap alcohol. Body is very shallow with little to no bite with it at all. Goes down in a insipid manner, as if it had no desire to be noticed at all. Would be ideal for mass consumption and/or pouring for undesired house guests.

Rotary Coterie

APP.
Model U.N.: A.K.A. Class
Chile, Germany, New Hampshire, Sweden, Florida, Texas, Cambodia, Espana, Brasil, France, Venezuela, Kenya, Zimbabwe, Tanzania, Nigeria, U.K., Hungary, India, Egypt, Algeria, etc.

Urban Legend:
A Haircut Can Be Found In Paris, Sub-15€

Who Needs Sun When It Can Rain In Paris For Weeks:
An Analysis and Experimentation of Weather Forecasts v. Humans

Movies/Architecture/Shopping/Soldes Galore/Argent Epuisée

Library Hours Come and Then They Go, Quickly

MAIN.
It was bit nippy outside with the cliché overcast skies, dreary clouds and glum little raindrops prickling my jacket. I still couldn’t translate the temperature from Celsius so I dressed the same everyday. A uniform, if you will: Shoes, pants, shirt, sweater or cardigan, scarf, jacket, glasses or sunglasses. I had it down to a set regimen – rather militant you could say.

The walks across the Seine were enlivening some days and mundane on others. I’d count the days in my head: Lundi, Tuesday, Mercredi, Thursday, Vendredi, Samedi, Dimanche. Along the streets, I’d read off the addresses: Onze, douze, treize, fourteen, quinze, seize, dix-sept, dix-huit, dix-neuf, vingt. Twenty-one, vingt-deux, vingt-trois… I stopped around thirty. Trente? I felt like I was pronouncing my friend’s name incorrectly.

Cafés were abundant, as were the patisseries - but the prices were the ones that got to you. Every éclair, tarte aux cerises and pain aux raisin made me want to dip into my coin pocket and throw a few on to the counter. But then I’d remember there was cheap wine to be bought – and the beer, oh the beer. Those little shit-sized bottles that made you wanting more. I had downed three and it felt as through I had consumed a Capri Sun and a half. So much for my alcoholic American appetite.

When lunch came around sandwiches were all I could afford. Some days it would be au poulet, whereas other days I’d have them with oeufs or au rôti bœuf. I once ordered aux crudités thinking it was something totally different. I never ordered aux crudités again.

I came to the realization that bottled water with gas differs in no way from one another. I tried pitting Badoit against San Pellegrino and the only thing I noticed is that the latter had a bit more of that enjoyable fizz to it. Then I got bored one day and compared bottled Perrier to canned. I decided I liked bottled more than canned, just because. I never did try to discern the difference between glass and plastic bottles. I’m sure there’s some scientific explanation to the minimally different tastes.

What always amazed me was that even with all the cheese, pastries, baguettes and wine – the French always kept an ideal shape. I accepted that I was not the first to question this conundrum, but it puzzled me nonetheless. I figured that with all the walking, constant talking and lack of fast-food joints maybe that was it. But they still have McDo. And Quick. Same concept, supposedly better food, but still shitty. I couldn’t pull myself to try it. At least not in a sober state.

The drinking came in its usual fashion. Pound one down in the late morning, have a couple at lunch, maybe some more in the afternoon and swig a bottle of wine or a trinity of beers at night. All of these seemed like the usual signs of a budding alcoholic but I just told myself it was a sign that I was enjoying life. Maybe I wanted to experience le joie d’vivre. That was it. Drinking copious amounts of alcohol equated to living life. Superb.

One thing that always bugged me was that the staircase leading up to my apartment from the Seine had a mismanaged amount of steps. It went 25, strata, 25, strata, 24. What kind of engineer forgets the last step? Or maybe I was under the influence when I was counting. I should’ve gone back to count them but I wanted to hear what I wanted to hear. Plus there was a distracting mattress at the bottom of my stairs with lots of muddy footprints on top. Maybe that was the last step. Or the first? Fucking kids.

In between eating and drinking, since I had so much time to spare, there were lessons to be visited and intelligent people to be heard. From Haussman, Napoleon III and Manet to the Sumerians, Minoans, Old, Middle and New Kingdoms and then up to caliph al-Walid I and his knife and gourd mosaics – I kept myself relatively busy. One day we covered stone-carved chains. The other was about color intensities, tones, hues, shades, chiaroscuro and more. But all I could think about was Churrasco’s and their delectable fried plantains. Oh how I could’ve killed for an achiote rubbed filet of beef. But she had taught at Princeton and in Senegal - so I suppose she knew her stuff. At least it seeemed so. Oh? I guess it’s time for another beer.

I told myself moderation was the key to life. If only I hadn’t lost it after burning a hole in my pocket. Luckily the new jacket fit well.

BIER.
26 Jan 09
Beer: Super Bock, Portugal
Location: G20, Rue de Chaillot, 16é, Paris, FR
Price: 4,50€/6pk.
Grade: 5.1

Session-smession, meh.

27 Jan 09
Beer: Carlsberg
Location: AMEX, 7é, Paris, FR
Price: 4€/12 oz. bottle
Grade: 4.8

Danish shit.

28 Jan 09
Beer: Kanterbräu de Maitre Kanter
Location: G20, Rue de Chaillot, 16é, Paris, FR
Price: 3,39€/10pk. 25cl
Grade: 3.0

Horrible.

31 Jan 09
Beer: Pelforth Brune
Location: G20, Rue de Chaillot, 16é, Paris, FR
Price: 2,20€
Grade: 3.9

Bleh. Another failed French beer – this time in the form of a dark beer. After drinking copious amount of Kronenbourg (sadly what is available everywhere), this doesn’t rectify the poor opinion I have of le bier français. The taste is similar to a sweet corn, covered in a light syrup and mixed with Coca-Cola. Skunky, skunky smell and taste that is borderline sewage water consistency. Slimes down your tongue and then down your throat. It lacks any compelling bitterness, carbonation or worthwhile flavors. Instead you get a flat beer with a boring body (sludged medium-light) and weak notes of rotten cherries.

VIN.
19 Jan 09
Wine: Les Alyscamps, Vin de Pays du Gard, Rouge
Location: Rue de l’Universite Bodega, 7é, Paris, FR
Price: 1,80€/750mL
Grade: 4.0

Cheap ass red with a cheap ass taste. However, better than Franzia and Carlo Rossi – any day.

19 Jan 09
Wine: Belle France Cibon Sélection, Sauvignon Blanc, Vin de Pays d’Oc, 2007
Location: Rue de l’Universite Bodega, 7é, Paris, FR
Price: 3,60€/750mL
Grade: 4.2

Like white grape juicy juice yet with alcohol. Pretty disappointing but that’s what you get when buying a cheap white.

24 Jan 09
Wine: Vin d’Alsace A.O.C., Riesling, M. Kieffer, 2007
Location: G20, Rue de Chaillot, 16é, Paris, FR
Price: 5€/750mL
Grade: 6.0

Light but still with body, sweet little white grapes, lush floral notes and touches of very light honey. Low acidity with a crisp palette and subtle effervescence. As usual, would be great with seafood, lighter cheeses and possibly chicken with a cream or white sauce. Has the ability to cut through some sauces, but not a wine that is meant to combat or contrast with heavy dishes. A nice complement to sautéed or grilled dishes, not so much fried, baked or breaded. There are also bits of citrus that come through, more of lemon or grapefruit rind than orange or lime. A nice wine, but a bit boring at times. Shallow and a bit unimaginative. Then again, it was only 5 euro.

31 Jan 09
Wine: Bordeaux, La Vielle Eglise, Cave du Marmandais, Terroir d’Aquitaine, 2006, 12.5% ABV
Location: G20, Rue de Chaillot, 16é, Paris, FR
Price: 4€/750mL
Grade: 3.2

Ball-sack red wine vinegar. Blergh.

FROMAGE ET SALAME.
28 Jan 09
Cheese: Brie L’Coulombiere, 21% M.G.,
Location: Fromagerie Maugendre, Marché, Avenue du President Wilson – Mercredi, Paris, FR
Price: 4,75€/250g
Grade: 8.0

Damn. Tastes of grass, dried hay and a real “barn-like” milk. One of the most authentic tasting cheeses I’ve had in awhile. Melt-in-your-mouth consistency with all the right touches along the way. Soft – almost too soft - at first, yet after a sampling of the soft rind it is sublime. Could have a little bit more finesse though. While thoroughly enjoyable, the overall taste isn’t necessarily anything out of this world or way out of left field. Just another “buttery brie” couisin that is quite splendid, but not supreme.

28 Jan 09
Salame: Cochonou, Savoir-Faire Authenticité, Le Classique
Location: G20, Rue de Chaillot, 7é, Paris, FR
Price: 3,75€/275g
Grade: 7.5

Nice, but a little unctuous and fatty. Could use a more genuine “meaty” or pork taste to it. I imagine the sausage maker was thinking to himself, “Hey, maybe if I put in 60% pork products and 40% pork fat, people will eat it.” Well, they still do. It just makes us feel a little more guilty by doing so.

31 January 09
Salame: Délice de St Agaûne, Bordeau Chesnel
Location: G20, Rue de Chaillot, 7é, Paris, FR
Price: 5,10€/200g
Grade: 7.2

Less pork taste and more of a white wine and dry taste. Minimal spice, but enough to keep it interesting. Due to less fat content, there surely is a cleaner feel to it, but in no way does that detract from the overall experience.

31 January 09
Cheese: Brillat-Savarin, Moulé à la louche, 40% M.G., Fromagerie Delin, Bourgogne
Location: Les Chevres de Saint Vrain – Herbager Fromager, Marché, Avenue du President Wilson – Mercredi, Paris, FR
Price: 4,25€/200g
Grade: 7.4

A light and white spreadable cheese that tastes strikingly similar to a normal chévre (goat’s cheese) even though it's made from cow's milk. Falls in the same family of cheese like mascarpone or even fromage frais with quite the “yoghurt-y” taste to it (triple-créme). Like a well-cultured sweet cream that would go great with salmon. A.k.a. bomb-ass lox.

31 January 09
Cheese: Tomme d’Auverge, 45% M.G., Fromagerie des Neiges
Location: G20, Rue de Chaillot, 7é, Paris, FR
Price: 11,90€/kg
Grade: 7.6

Waxy, chewy and tastes of that real cave-ripened taste. Very earthy and a bit chalky. You can taste the stale bacteria working in from the washed rind and the pungent yet not mildly pungent spice within. Throws in that bark-like roughness with truffle and mushroom flavors. Quite pleasant.

31 January 09
Cheese: Bleu d’Auverge A.O.C., Fromagerie des Neiges
Location: G20, Rue de Chaillot, 7é, Paris, FR
Price: 8,95€/kg
Grade: 7.7

Lovely. Tangy and funky yet not out of control. A well balanced bleu with a firm body and slight mineral crunch to it. Yeasty taste too, like the base of a powdered milk of the sorts.

31 January 09
Cheese: St. Marcellin, 50% M.G., Dauphiné
Location: Ramponneau Fromagerie, Marché, Avenue du President Wilson – Mercredi, Paris, FR
Price: 1€/5cm round, 80g
Grade: 7.8

Soft dusted surface with an even more angelic consistency to it. Reminds me of those gentle tasting bean cakes or sticky rice balls in oriental cultures. Extremely smooth consistency that basically melts into the room temperature plate. Fruity, with touches of peach and lemon in it also. I could definitely get used to this one.