NanashiMy job frequently requires me to eat elaborate three-course meals at lunch and dinner several days in a row. It's something I have trained myself to do over the years and my stomach rarely utters a peep of complaint, as long as I don't overdo the wine (not as easy as it sounds). I am grateful, though, when I come across a restaurant that acts as a kind of cleansing interlude, replenishing my body with crunchy vegetables and wholesome grains.
A weekend in BastiaNonstop sunshine, rustic cakes made with chestnut flour, honey tasting of sun-scorched wild herbs, sausages of boar and donkey: these are a few of the things I expected to find in Corsica, and over the course of the weekend more than one of these preconceived ideas would prove to be false.
New York and a fresh startI have always taken New Year's resolutions very seriously. This year, though, too many are whirling around in my head: Blog more often. Listen to my acccountant. Start each day with sun salutations. Meditate. See more of nature. Teach my son to cook. Let my friends know how much I appreciate them.
On being vegetarian in FranceA few months ago, my son Sam declared himself a vegetarian. Now, if we lived in California this might not sound unusual, but this is France, proud land of
steak-frites and
saucisson,
andouillette and
tête de veau.
A new chef at the Louis XVIt was potatoes that first cemented my friendship with Franck Cerutti, chef for ten years at Alain Ducasse's Louis XV restaurant in Monaco.
Paris restaurant: PramilWhen it comes to restaurants, I'm not really that demanding. I want the basic ingredients to be seasonal and good. I want the cooking to show restraint: nothing puts me off more than an overly complicated plate. And I want the chef to have a heart that shines through in the food.
Sunday lunch at Holland ParkTempting as it was to linger on the beach on Sunday morning, I wasn't going to miss the opportunity to visit Holland Park, an intriguing new garden center/restaurant that has been open just a couple of months.
Ready, prêt, go: Eating on the run in LondonFor the school holidays, I took Sam to London to brush up his English. Well, that was the official excuse.
L'Ecole des FillesThe surreal extravagance of our last meal in Liguria left us with a quandary: how could any restaurant live up to that experience, which was all the more incredible for having caught us off guard?
Sunday in LiguriaWhen I want a complete change of scenery, I get in the car and drive for 40 minutes. As soon as we cross the border into Italy, everything is suddenly different: the people, the language, the music, the clothes, the coffee (
especially the coffee).
At home with Art HomeEveryone has been talking about
Nomiya lately, and I was starting to feel like the only person who can't boast about having eaten at the ultra-cool temporary restaurant on the top floor of the Palais de Tokyo.
Au Petit Gari: a lesson in where not to eatIf my brief career as a Paris bistro chef has given me fresh admiration and respect for restaurant owners who care, it has also made me less forgiving of those who take the customer for an uncomfortable ride.
La Table de Claire: the aftermathBecoming a bistro chef for a weekend at La Table de Claire seemed like a brilliant idea until I found myself facing a mountain of vegetables with my back to five flaming burners on one of the most stifling days of the year in Paris.
My restaurant début at La Table de ClaireI have often wondered what it might be like to cook in a restaurant, but until now had never been curious enough to actually try it.
Pissaladière reinventedI usually think of pissaladière as one of those dishes that it's best not to toy with too much, so when I saw that it had been reinvented for the Hi Beach by ultra-creative chef Mauro Colagreco of Le Mirazur in Monaco, I couldn't resist ordering it.