March Newsletter

The Paris Summer Olympics were amazing. I had a great time going to several of the sporting events, and the entire population of Paris seemed elated, and was sad to see it end. It was, however, difficult for small businesses, which lost a lot of money as people avoided coming due to fears of overcrowding, as well as steeply priced hotels and high airfares. But many agreed that it was good for the image of Paris to see the city enjoying itself so much, and visitors who came experienced Paris at its best.

When I brought that up to a friend who’s a travel consultant, saying that it was great for Paris tourism, he said, “Paris doesn’t need any more tourists.” I thought about that, and he was right. Paris has no trouble attracting tourists. In fact, a lot of people visit Paris. It touts itself as the most-visited city in the world (although, I’ve heard those numbers are based on how many people arrive at the airport, many of whom are just connecting to other flights). But if you’ve been stuck in traffic to or from Charles de Gaulle airport, or waited in a looong security line after arrival, you know that popularity can be overrated. No one ever bragged, “I get the most emails, ever!”

Lebanese chocolate ice cream (easier for me to order in French, in Paris, than Arabic)

I don’t have a problem with tourists, or even the word “tourist,” a term that’s often derisively used to talk about people wanting to visit other countries. I’m sometimes a tourist, and I don’t mind being one. I try to be respectful of the culture but occasionally make a gaffe. And while people do say the key to getting along with locals is to learn a few phrases, when I was in Lebanon, I tried to learn to say simple phrases like, “Can I get one scoop of chocolate?” but I never quite managed to figure out how to say هل يمكنني الحصول على مغرفة واحدة من الشوكولاتة؟ (pronounced: Hal yumkinuni alhusul ealaa maghrifat wahidat min alshuwkulatati?), even though I tried.

howtobecomeparisian

A post shared by @howtobecomeparisian

As I scroll through social media, I come across people either reinforcing or breaking the clichés about Paris. One that people often insist upon, which I’ve told people to do as well, is to say, “Bonjour, Madame” or “Monsieur” when you enter a shop or restaurant. It’s part of the politesse in France, like saying “Bonjour” when you step inside an elevator, or enter a doctor’s waiting room. You say “Bonjour” to everyone. (When I do that in the States, which I do by habit, people move away from me.) On the other hand, I lived in my last apartment for twelve years, and the other residents of the building just walked right past me, without even acknowledging my presence, which was a little weird to me. People also walk into me all the time on the sidewalk, and the last time I heard someone say “Pardon, monsieur” was in 2006.

Yet people will insist that to get people to be nice to you in Paris, all you need to do is say “Bonjour, Madame” or “Monsieur,“ which is like waving a magic wand and everyone will be nice to you. I’ve started off with “Bonjour, Madame” or “Monsieur” every time I’ve tried to call my cable company to get them to come fix my internet, which I’ve been doing since early January, but that hasn’t prompted them to come. Maybe I’m just not pronouncing it correctly, because it’s not working.

We finally had some sun, so I took advantage of a particularly nice day to nourish our wooden cutting boards and trays.

Another thing that’s changed in Paris is dining habits. A reader recently asked me, since they’ve stopped drinking, would it still be okay for them to come to Paris and dine in restaurants? I’m not sure if foreigners are concerned about going to the U.S. and eating in a restaurant if they don’t drink. Sure, in the past, people may have expected you to drink in France. In the 1970s, the French government told people to drink 1.5 liters (6 cups) of beer per day during heatwaves…and in the 1960s, they used to serve the bus drivers rum-spiked tea at bus stops to keep them warm in the winter.

Thankfully (for bus passengers), they don’t do that anymore. And not drinking is A-OK in Paris. In fact, like a lot of things that started in anglophone countries, it’s become a little trendy here. (They do say millennials are drinking less these days, but the way things are going, they’ll probably pick it up again…) We recently ate at a favorite restaurant last week, and they had two non-alcoholic beers on the drinks menu plus a non-alcoholic rosé, and two different kombuchas, as well as a fruit drink.

Gone are the days when it was de rigeur to drink wine. At lunchtime in Paris, you’ll find young people with their sandwiches and their plats du jour at cafés drinking Coca Light. At standard restaurants, some people might have a glass of wine or share a carafe, but you won’t be chastised for abstaining. Ditto with being a vegetarian. In the old days, choices were (very) limited, and a cliché was that waiters would mock people who asked for anything vegetarian. Clichés don’t just come out of nowhere, and I think back then, people didn’t understand vegetarians. Even Anthony Bourdain made fun of them, which promoted open sport against their kind.

When I was a pastry chef, I liked orders from people who had special dietary concerns as I took them to be a challenge. Some interesting ones were a person who couldn’t eat any types of sugar (which included fructose, so no fruit), another guest who ate only white food, and dinner for John Cage, who was macrobiotic. There was someone, however, who showed up with a can of diet food and wanted us to reheat it for them, which got refused. (We did open the can, and it looked like dog food. We just couldn’t do it…)

The best strategy when you go out is to tell them of any dining issues you have when you reserve, not when you arrive. That also goes if you’re going to ask them to open a can of diet food and reheat it for you…especially in Paris(!) But there are lots of choices nowadays for restaurants and bakeries offering a variety of foods. So if you’re coming to Paris and you’re vegan, you may want to skip the classic bistro in favor of creative Lebanese and head to VG for vegan French pastries. Or the oddly named Land & Monkeys for 100% végétale baked goods, which are excellent. If you’re gluten-free, Chambelland has amazing pastries. There’s now something for everyone. (Except for people eating canned diet food. In that case, I recommend doing that in your rental apartment.)

Roast veal with scorsonère (a root vegetable, similar to salsify), radicchio grumolo, and anchoïade, at lunch with Dorie Greenspan, at Recoin.

People have an idea of Paris, and France, that isn’t quite the same as it was…say, ten or twenty years ago. But the dining scene has changed. A lot. In fact, the food is even better than ever these days. Not everywhere is great, but young people have taken the helm, and lots of restaurants have opened where the menus feature fresh, seasonal ingredients, introducing back “oubliés,” or forgotten vegetables (I had to look up scorsonère), and the wine lists are more fun, focused on low-intervention wines from small producers, which are interesting to discover, especially if you’re used to drinking conventional wines. Most are just €7-9/glass, which is one of the best things about dining in France.

Don’t drink? Yes, there’s a non-alcoholic spirit shop and many bars, such as Combat, The Cambridge Public House, among others, which have 0% ABV options on their menus.

There’s a new generation of waiters and cooks willing to understand and explain the food and wines. And I see on many (but not all) restaurant menus in Paris at least one vegetable-based option, which isn’t just an afterthought, but a carefully thought-out dish.

Moules, frites, sauce vadouvan, aneth at Recoin

And while a lot of clichés about France still persist, it’s gratifying to see the next generation redefine dining.

Speaking of dining, last month it was fun to see Alice Waters, who arrived in Paris during an especially chilly week. We had a lovely meal warming up at Capitaine, and Alice happily signed a book for chef Baptiste Day, whose food is rooted in his Breton heritage. So there was lots of seafood, including oysters and sea urchins, served with pork croquettes. In parts of France, it’s traditional to serve something fatty and meaty with raw seafood, such as oysters and sausages in Bordeaux. It sounds strange until you try it. Then you get it.

We also split a bright and refreshing, and seasonal, citrus tart topped with homemade ice cream, which was just perfect after the meal. Alice isn’t a big dessert person; her idea of a perfect dessert is an exemplary peach or a plate of figs—David Chang made fun of that once—but she indulged me and shared the tart.

A while back I did a food event with Alice in New York and some young whippersnapper chef came by and sneered at the plates we were assembling. “That’s not cooking,” he said. “That’s shopping.“ Alice replied straight away, “Yes, that’s right.”

That’s the biggest part of cooking — getting the right ingredients. Literally, 50% of my job is shopping. (Sometimes when I go out to eat, I wish the chef had spent a little more time shopping, rather than coming up with some weird combination of things on the plate that doesn’t work.) And just to set the record straight, Anthony Bourdain and David Chang eventually walked back their remarks about Chez Panisse, so it’s all good now.

This month is going to be a whirlwind. I’ve got another book deadline at the end of the month, and the subject of this one is a subject that’s especially close to my heart, and my stomach. (Spoiler: There’s a clue somewhere in this newsletter.) So look for new releases next Fall and Spring. I know, I know…what was I thinking? I’ve also got a free Live event with Yotam Ottolenghi coming up this month, scheduled for March 15th, so stay tuned for more information on that. When it comes to Yotam, he’s not just a friend, but I’m a fan too. I went to an event with him in London once, and people were pushing me out of the way to get to him 😅😅

Thankfully, we’ll be sharing the screen. But I don’t blame you if you’re tuning in to see him. I’m just as excited to see him as you are!

-David

More on the Garlic Press…

When I sent her my post on the garlic press, Kim, my proofreader and copy editor wrote back, “You’re going to get a lot of comments on this one.” Hmmm…I wasn’t so sure.

I figured I’d get the usual garlic press haters, and if you’re one of them, that’s fine. I’d sworn off them for years. Although, if you’re one of those “no single-use appliances or gadgets” people, I’m not getting rid of my coffeemaker, and even though it’s not essential, I ain’t getting rid of my rice cooker, which does a really great job at making rice. That’s also staying put.

The garlic press has been reviled, but 190 commenters chimed in, mostly in support of the tool. (Food writer Michael Ruhlman even brought it up in his newsletter.) Many recommended the Ikea garlic press. I’m on the fence about Ikea kitchen tools in general. They seem like a good idea when you’re in the store, and the prices are attractive, but they always feel a little flimsy to me. Just like their chairs that look so good and stylish in the catalogue. After living with them for a few months, you find they don’t wear well, and you wish them gone.

A number of people recommended the JosephJoseph rocker for cutting garlic, although, A) You still need to clean up a cutting board after using it, and have a dedicated cutting board for garlic and onions, and B) I bought a knife rack from JosephJoesph that arrived broken and they wouldn’t replace it. So they’re kind of on my s-list. Others recommended the fancy, and pricey ($54), Kuhn Rikon from Switzerland, but the Ikea one was a low investment at $6.50, and it was hard to resist. It was also all metal, so I didn’t feel guilty buying something made of plastic.

The main thing I didn’t like about my German garlic press was that it left a lot of garlic behind, which I had to scrape out and chop by hand because I didn’t want to waste all that garlic. While it’s not at the top of the list of problems facing the world at the moment, it weighed heavily on my mind. (I have so many things weighing heavily on my mind right now that I’m amazed that I can still carry my head…)

But a journalist from Le Monde had read my piece and came over to do an article about me and my garlic press. So I’m not the only one who thinks this is a “story.”

What I scraped out after pressing one clove of garlic

But I was disappointed in the Ikea garlic press as well. On a scale of 1-10 in terms of life problems, it’s definitely close to 1, and considering I finally mastered my Moccamaster, I’m not a complete Luddite. But I’m still not convinced I’m ready to embrace the garlic press…no matter what I get, or whatever the price.

Before…

10 Feel-Good Things to Do This Month

There’s a lot going on here and there, and it can be overwhelming. Self-care is just as important as caring about others. Here are some things I’ve done lately…

1. Listen to Left Coast ‘70s rock on SomaFM online radio on the web or via their app

2. Hear and see the amazing Annie Lenox sings Both Sides Now to Joni Mitchell (YouTube)

3. Watch David Byrne’s American Utopia (Max/subscription required-YouTube trailer)

4. Get a facial or a shoulder and arm massage.

5. Watch Hamilton (Disney+/subscription required)

6. Treat yourself to a homemade Bicerin.

7. Nourish your wooden cutting boards and cooking tools. Tips here, here, and here. (Possible paywalled ones here and here.)

8. Start getting rid of all that stuff in your freezer that you said you would use later, but you never will. The Covid confinements were no fun, but I did end up with an empty freezer, so there was that.

9. Watch Rachel Dratch as Debbie Downer ruin a family trip to Disneyland. (NBC/SNL)

10. Make a batch of Vin d’orange, the Provencal orange apéritif, so it’ll be ready for spring.

11. Delete unused social media apps, and other apps, from your phone. If you’re not using them, they’re doing more good for them than for you.

12. Make a donation to a cause that you believe in…but you keep putting off.

After…

Things I Like

When we redid our apartment, I decided to be a little more conscious about things that were made in France. Of course, we’re part of the EU and the global community as well, but when faced with buying choices, when I see something that says Fabrication française, it gives me a little bit of pride for my adopted homeland.

Unfortunately, the little trash can I bought quickly broke, the opening mechanism kept coming undone, and I had to call on Romain to fix it as he’s the handy one. I’m the one who just wants to buy a new one. But I’m working on changing my ways.

My Vipp

After going through several cheap trashcans, I remembered the one I had in San Francisco, which was built like a truck. It was the kind of trash can used in hospitals and other high-use facilities, and I also liked the way it looked. Since I didn’t tote my trashcan to Paris with me, I decided to spring for another Vipp. The same family in Denmark has been making these garbage bins since 1939, and they’ve stood the test of time.

We’re all seeing the cost of buying things like fast fashion, fast furniture, and fast food, which turns out not to be bargains in the long run. And while the math might make sense to buy a new €19 trash can every year, every time I step down on that oversized Vipp pedal, the lid springs open with a clean, soft whoosh, and the bin doesn’t wobble around and walk across the floor, prompting me to have to straighten it out again and again, every time I use it.

That would score a 1.5 out of 10 on the list of world problems, but I can’t tell you what an ASMR relief it is to throw something away now. It also looks nice, and since I look at it at least a dozen times a day, the math works out in its favor. In fact, just thinking about it now makes me want to throw something away.