As promised, here are some things I ate or saw in France (Bordeaux, Paris, Giverny) a few weeks ago. Enjoy!
Posts Tagged ‘food writing’
Posted in Desserts, Food, meat, photography, random, Restaurants, Salads, Words on Wine, tagged Apple Cider, Auchon, Bordeaux, Cidre, Cinsault, cooking, Creme Brulee, Cuisine Francaise, Duck, Fabulous French Food, fish, Fois Gras, food, Food Photography, food photos, Food stories, food writing, France, French Cuisine, French food, Giverny, life, Macarons, marzipan, Paris, photography, Profiteroles, random, steak tartar, wine on July 25, 2011| 2 Comments »
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Baroness Tapuzina, Chocolate, cooking, dinner, food, food blogging, food blogs, Food Bridge, food writing, Forcemeat, Israel, Israeli food blogs, life, Mazarin, Mazarine, Mazzarine, Mazzarine Patisserie, random, Restaurant Review, Restaurants, Tel Aviv, The Israeli Kitchen, writing on January 24, 2010| 6 Comments »
- Of or pertaining to Cardinal Mazarin, prime minister of France, 1643-1661;
- a deep rich blue;
- a deep rich blue butterfly;
- a silver strainer fitting over a meat dish and used for draining the water from boiled fish;
- the first Bible, and perhaps the first complete book, printed with movable metal types; – printed by Gutenberg at Mentz, 1450-55; – so called because a copy was found in the Mazarine Library, at Paris, about 1760.
- A forcemeat entrée.
Mazzarine – patisserie & chocolaterie artisanale
Israel’s English-language food bloggers, a cheery private dining room, a couple bottles of fume blanc, good conversation, and Tel Aviv’s finest desserts – last Thursday was a deliciously wonderful evening. I’ve been overly-exhausted with work, and thus have gotten behind in all the things I want to write about. The other ladies have indeed beat me to the punch, and rightly so. In any case —
It was delightful to meet Michelle Kemp (Baroness Tapuzina), Miriam Kresh (Israeli Kitchen), Sarah Melamed (Foodbridge), Liz Steinberg (CafeLiz), and Yael (Apples & Honey – an Israeli food blog in Finnish). We spoke about so many different things, it’s difficult for me to recall them all now. Arab markets, local ingredients, local winemaking, local dairies and cheeses, blogging, travel, cook books, genealogy, freelance food writing – you name it – just what semi-pro expat foodies in Israel would talk about.
I have long since discovered that food blogging (all blogging really, but here more significant that most) depends upon drop dead gorgeous photography. My colleagues’ photos are far superior to mine (I encourage you to visit their blogs), as I decided to break in my new uber-bells-and-whistles cell phone. These are great photos for a cell phone. But I’ve learned auto-focus is more than somewhat lacking…and these ladies are exceptional with a Nikon, one even coming with a fancy long lens.
The dinner was OK. Creative options, certainly. Their pastas superior to the fish special I ordered. Some homemade gnocchi, one with artichoke, another (a special) filled with plum (prune) in a portabello and shitake sauce. The soup was a clear veg broth with mushrooms (I believe), salmon pieces, and large homemade pasta squares blanketing the top. My seared tuna with some sort of chive pancakes and jasmine rice with a reduced soy sauce was a bit of a downer. Others enjoyed it but found the sauce too salty, something I agree with. But the fish was cut into strips with the “pancakes” interspersed between each slice. The pancakes were hard as pita crackers, and the fish was nearly cold when served to me (and was well stone cold long before I got into the middle of it).
By far the best part of the culinary experience of the evening was the dessert. Mazzarine is an incredible patisserie. I had the above cake, the “Ebony,” a 70% cocoa chocolate covering a dark chocolate mouse with some sort of meringue inside, a truffle on top, and a meringue glued to the side. The others had similarly decadent chocolaty, layered, glossy, rich concoctions.
To tell you the truth, the best part of the entire evening was communing with some extremely lovely friendly women. We had common interests, we all had seen each others’ work online, and it was almost therapeutic to meet in person. In years past before blogging, before the web, meeting in person was commonplace. Besides talking on the phone or writing a letter on a piece of paper, we met. Not anymore. It’s strange to be cooking such interesting foods, drinking such great wine, and feeling as though I don’t have too many people with whom to share it with. Not that I don’t have friends. But we don’t pop on by unannounced. We’re all busy. And weeks go by sometimes when I don’t have meals sitting down at an actual table sitting in front of a real person instead of my computer. The meeting was delightful.
A great thanks to Miriam and Michelle who organized it.
…everywhere but Israel, it seems. So I decided to take nature into my own hands. It’s snowing on my blog. It’s not your screen, and you’re not so fatigued that your eyes are playing tricks on you (both of which my sister thought a couple nights ago). It’s a nifty feature brought to me by the lovely folks at WordPress. And it’s probably the only snow I’ll see this year, so I hope dear potential readers, you’ll be able to put up with it.
I also have a new header! I hope it’s to your liking. My very limited image editing software notwithstanding, I’m pretty happy with this.
Now that Hanukkah is over (oily fattening food smorgasbord), and I’m expecting the imminent arrival of my parents for two weeks (eating out at fancy schmancy restaurants – hopefully – daily), I hope to go on a health kick this week. Veg galore! So…I’ll be updating you on barley, buckwheat, Jerusalem artichoke (etc) creations…and next week – expect some luscious restaurant reviews!
Happy eating! Happy snow! Happy winter!
Posted in Desserts, Recipes, Shiur Times, Soups, tagged brownies, cheshvan, comfort food, food journalism, food writing, Jewish food, lentil soup, life, random, Recipes on December 3, 2009| Leave a Comment »
Published in the Shiur Times Magazine, October 2008
The rain has been pouring down hard tonight. I feel relief. It’s back to this. Always this. A hot mug of Earl Grey, a cookie to dunk, a good book, a purring cat, this bright warm corner of the world and a window from which to look out upon the rest of it – shelter from the storm. The chagim are over. As cathartic, joyful, and fulfilling as they were, this first month of the year – my first Tishrei in Israel – was a marathon of a whirlwind of a rollercoaster. A clearly confused, chaotically ordered, tear-peppered laughter, ever-moving, ever-so-long of a month. It’s high time for some comfort.
Cheshvan, the month without holidays, is anomalous indeed in the Jewish calendar. I, on the other hand, am thankful for it. There is nothing wrong with a month of normal. In fact, it makes sense. The dull task of getting back to the business of life is actually rather important. After every beginning, we need to build the rest. Because it’s coming on winter – a darker and colder time, by nature – and it’s a time to be sensible, to work, to prepare. For me, the absence of holidays does not mean the absence of joyful moments. In fact, getting back to basic routines highlights those simplest of pleasures. It’s the perfectly spicy-tangy-dripping shakshuka during my lunch break; the midnight PB&J I shovel into my happy American mouth; and the blessing of hot chicken soup and challah on Shabbat.
In America, the tail end of November brings Thanksgiving, which beside Pesach, is my favorite holiday. A celebration after the harvest, before the worst of winter comes to call. Like with many Jewish holidays, I relish the opportunity to reflect collectively on the blessings of our lives. And of course, there is the never-ending parade of comfort foods. As I grew up, I absorbed the meaning of “labor of love” through my fingers, flesh, and aching bones while creating these feasts – my vast array of spiced pies, chestnut stuffing, orange-zesty cranberry sauce, and of course the succulent herb-crusted bird. I grew to understand that the pleasure was as much in the work as it was in devouring the delectable meal.
We equate food with comfort, and rightly so. Food activates the release of chemicals which physically calm us. Food is one of the most powerful triggers of memories. And food brings people together. Altogether, when we eat, we become physically content, remember happy memories, and are usually joined by friends and family. We don’t need festivals and holidays to eat. We must eat every day, and best more than once. Every time we do, we comfort ourselves and each other. Whether a crust of bread or a lavish banquet, every meal is a celebration – a celebration of our hard work and survival.
Last year, as a very new olah, I went to a massive catered Thanksgiving dinner at a hotel. Nice as it was to not be alone, this year will be different. I’m looking forward to these cold nights ahead, listening to the deafening drumming of the raindrops outside. After all, I’ve got a gigantic menu to plan.
You, dear readers, in the simple act of your reading, are participating in an unprecedented event: I am sharing my most prized recipe. It came down from my father through his first secretary, and I am not exaggerating when I say that these are the best brownies in the world. I dislike the word “best,” in all its impossible, immeasurable, innate exclusivity. But in this case, it just happens to be true. They are at once decadent and the epitome of comfort food. A dish that would be as much in its element at the Ritz as it would be at the corner deli. This recipe has been one of my life’s greatest comforts. In my younger years, I protected this recipe with my life. I know better now. Thank you, Daddy, for making these for us, and thank you Maria for sharing the recipe with him.
4 oz. (115 grams) Bittersweet chocolate
½ C. Butter
2 C. Sugar
1 C. Flour
1 tsp. Vanilla
1 C. Chocolate Chips
2 C. Mini-marshmallows
1 C. chopped walnuts
1) Preheat oven to 350˚ F (180˚ C). Grease a 13” X 9” (33 cm x 23 cm) pan.
2) Melt chocolate and butter together. Let cool slightly. Beat in sugar well. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Add vanilla. Mix in flour.
3) In a separate bowl, combine chocolate chips, marshmallows, and walnuts. Add to batter and mix well.
4) Pour batter into prepared pan and smooth even. Bake 40-45 minutes. Let cool until set. Cut and serve.
Red Lentil, Pumpkin and Apricot Soup
A very easy, very interesting, very comforting winter soup. With thanks to Jeremy Collins, who may have the right to claim this recipe; to Diana Pyatov for watching him make it and attempting to replicate it with me; and to the internet and my culinary school education, for helping me refine the technique and amounts. Amazing how recipes are created, compressed, stretched, torn to pieces and put back together again!
1kg of pumpkin (or any hard squash, i.e. butternut), peeled and de-seeded, cut into small chunks
150g red lentils, rinsed and drained
50g dried apricots, roughly chopped
2 tbs. olive oil
1 red onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 teaspoon ground cumin
½ teaspoon ground coriander
4 cups boiling water
salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
1) Pour the olive oil into a soup pot, and over a medium heat, sauté the onion and garlic until softened. Sprinkle in the ground turmeric, ground coriander, and ground cumin. Cook, stirring constantly for another minute.
2) Add the pumpkin, red lentils, apricots, and boiling water. Bring to a boil, then cover the pot and reduce heat. Simmer for 30-45 minutes or until the pumpkin and lentils are soft. Take the pot off the stove to cool slightly.
3) Strain the solids from the broth, and proceed to blend the vegetables, adding the broth back little by little in the process, until the soup is smooth and the desired thickness has been achieved. If no food processor or blender is available, a potato masher and some elbow grease can do the trick.
4) Taste and season with salt and pepper before returning the soup to the pot and reheating.
Posted in Desserts, Recipes, Salads, Shiur Times, tagged applesauce cake, cooking, food, food writing, fusion cuisine, high holidays, high holy days, honey, Israel, life, random, Recipes, rosh hashana, taboule on December 3, 2009| 2 Comments »
By Irene Sharon Hodes
Published in the Shiur Times Magazine, September 2008
On a recent trip to Tuscany, I visited a small family-owned vineyard. Surrounded by crusty breads and rustic cheeses, the smiling couple and their children shared their hard-earned creations: tart Chiantis, musky Grappas, and an inspired Vin Santo made from the most mature grapes of the season. But it was the dessert – a rare creamy white-blonde acacia honey – that I took home to Israel. Wandering the world, often desperately alone, all I thought at that moment was how perfect this particular honey would be months later on Rosh Hashana.
As a new olah finishing her first year here, and as a single woman rounding off the end of her 20s, I only now came to realize how important is the nature of structure. In our daily schedules, weekly traditions, foods, relationships, prayers, in the very execution of our lives, a solid structure is the plan, the roadmap. With it we are better able to achieve our milestones, experience our joys, and endure in times of hardship and sorrow. Without it, we are lost.
Having lived in seven countries, made and left dozens of friends, and changed careers, all too frequently, I have come to realize that living without structure is much like not having an identity. This continued absence has profoundly affected my quality of life since making aliyah, what I thought was fulfilling a lifelong dream.
Now that Rosh Hashana has arrived, my first here, the structure that is manifest in Jewish life has opened my eyes in a remarkable way. This is the time of year we take stock. When I did, I realized I overlooked another dream I had accomplished – graduating from culinary school. It’s been three months since graduation, and in the chaos of my unsettled life, I had forgotten how thrilling it was being in a professional kitchen every day.
Masquerading as vital sustenance, food is a physical manifestation of history, a deliciously important inheritance. Like a hidden code, the symbolism inherent in our recipes is a direct link to our ancestors. Bitter herbs at Pesach create a visceral connection to the hardships of our forefathers. Apples and honey at Rosh Hashana evoke the sincere prayers of our foremothers for a good and prosperous future, something we simultaneously pray for in tasting the sweetness.
As I ease myself into new concrete plans, I am strengthened by my Jewish heritage. For what else is tradition but a time tested standing structure? It is my hope that these recipes will inspire, sustain, revitalize, and sweeten your palate in envisioning the new year ahead. Me? I’ll be holding firm for the first time in a long time, savoring my “miele di acacia,” and with every drop, the memory of that perfect day, and the hope I had, even then, for a sweet new year.
This first recipe came from Jamie Geller’s newest cookbook, Quick & Kosher, and it was a pleasant surprise. The book’s lackluster title (as well as the subtitle “Recipes From The Bride Who Knew Nothing”) made me more than a little skeptical, but after reading the introduction, I couldn’t put the book down. Don’t get me wrong – after years of delving into complex gourmet cuisine, it’s doubtful Quick & Kosher will become the foundation of my kitchen. But with its fun no-nonsense approach, it’s certainly a book I would give to my friends, and definitely to my own mother (for whom I have to thank for honing my culinary skills, growing up in the absence of hers). The clever Mrs. Geller devised a strict and ingenious guideline: preparations for every recipe must be able to be done in under 15 minutes. She cuts some corners (occasional soup powders, canned goods, and frozen items), but the recipes are quite innovative, simple to execute, and pleasing to modern palates. The selection ranges from the traditional (classic chicken soup, stuffed peppers, challah kugel), to the fresh and multicultural (hot salmon salad, beef sukiyaki with noodles, curried coconut couscous). Her desserts are particularly mouth-watering, and this applesauce cake would be a welcome centerpiece on any Rosh Hashana table.
3 cups flour
1½ cups sugar
2/3 cup canola oil
1 (12 ounce / 340 gram) jar applesauce
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 teaspoons cinnamon sugar
½ cup non-dairy whipped topping
- Preheat oven to 350° F (180° C). Lightly grease a 9 x 13-inch (23 x 33 cm) cake pan with non-stick baking spray.
- In the bowl of an electric mixer, combine flour, sugar, oil, applesauce, eggs, cinnamon, baking powder, salt, and vanilla. Mix on medium speed until well combined, about 2 minutes.
- Pour into prepared pan. Sprinkle with cinnamon sugar.
- Bake at 350° F (180° C) for 1 hour, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
- Serve warm or at room temperature with a dollop of non-dairy whipped topping.
An old Middle Eastern mainstay with a thoroughly modern twist, my take on taboule looks back in time as it looks forward. Perfect for the holidays at hand: the sweetness of apples, pomegranates, and honey mingles with the invigorating cilantro and ginger, all resting upon the foundation of the hearty, humble quinoa. Replacing the traditional bulgur wheat, this ancient and nutritious South American grain has become so popular, almost every café in Israel is experimenting with it. The ingredients come from every corner of the globe, and the resulting combination is a sincerely satisfying culinary experience.
1 onion, finely chopped
1 cup pre-rinsed quinoa
2 cups water
Large handfuls (4-6 stalks) each, roughly chopped, of fresh:
¼ cup raisins
3 stalks green onion, chopped finely
1 tablespoon fresh minced ginger
1 tablespoon fresh minced garlic
1 apple, cored and diced
Seeds of 1 pomegranate
½ cup olive oil
¼ cup lemon juice
¼ cup honey
salt and pepper to taste
- Heat a small amount of olive oil in a saucepan and add the chopped onion. Cook 2-3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add quinoa and continue to stir 1-2 minutes or until onions sweat and quinoa browns slightly. Add the water and bring to a boil. Cover and reduce temperature, maintaining a simmer for 14-18 minutes. The quinoa is ready when the germ has unfurled to a tiny curl and has a slight bite to it (like al dente pasta). Set aside and cool.
- While quinoa is cooling, prepare the dressing by whisking together the olive oil, lemon juice, honey, ginger, garlic, salt, and pepper.
- Transfer cold quinoa to a large bowl and mix all other fruit and vegetable ingredients into it well. Add dressing and stir to coat the quinoa.
- Adjust seasonings to taste by adding salt and pepper, a drizzle of olive oil, a spoon of honey. Serve and enjoy!
Note : This recipe is very versatile. Apples and pomegranates can be replaced by halved grapes, plums, melons, or grapefruits, depending on the season.
Click on the image to view the original article: