After spending the past month eating my way through Paris, there’s a lot I could say about Parisian cuisine. For now, the abridged version: the bread, pastries, and chocolates are as amazing as you’d expect (that said, SF and NYC offer some tough competition); poultry is taken very seriously (hello, poulet de Bresse, black chickens, and pigeon/squab); the butter and cheese are worth their weight in gold; and oh my gosh, those orange-yolked eggs. On the negative side: spicy food is hard to come by, and Parisian restaurants have been slow to embrace plant-centric cuisine. Sure, a handful of high-vibes juice bars have sprouted up (Wild & the Moon is particularly great). And yes, L’Arpège’s vegetarian degustation menu is having a bit of a moment, thanks in part to Netflix’s Chef’s Table — my verdict: beautiful food, but ultimately not worth the price tag. Still, overall (and yes, there are other exceptions) fruits and vegetables are not the star in The City of Light.
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white beans
Broccoli White Bean Soup
As someone who spends a lot of time reading, I find it endlessly interesting to see what titles are on the bookshelves of others. Right now, we’re living in my boyfriend Andrew’s dad’s apartment in Manhattan — thanks, Mark! — so I’ve had some time to peruse his collection. Tucked in-between two photography books was a memoir that had long been on my to-read list: Heat by Bill Buford. A former New Yorker editor, Buford tells a fascinating story about leaving behind his position at the magazine to learn the ins and outs of Italian cooking, starting with months spent staging at Mario Batali’s Babbo.
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