La Petite Chinoise : LPC

I know that it’s La Rentrée when I wake up to the sound of children playing in la maternelle (toddler school? The kids are about bench height.) across the road from me. The kids sound like little birds chirping. It’s a nice wake-up call. They always look so happy even at 7am in the morning. And they bring a bit of life into the neighbourhood.

I also know when it’s la rentrée when les magasins (the stores) are selling nothing but les cahiers (notebooks), les classeurs (box files) and les crayons (pencils). Mothers are armed with a printed list of things-to-buy for their kids and a sharp elbow. Watch out for any French mother with a school list! The list apparently changes from year to year, including the number of pencils and notebooks to buy.

La rentrée means “The Return”. It is used mostly for school children when they return to school. A whole production goes into getting les enfants (children) ready for school. I’m not kidding - It’s a real mess. I’ve seen people darting from store to store looking for two size-4 Clairefontaine notebooks. My neighbours are going up and down to les caves (underground storage) to get boxes and winter clothes out.

La rentrée for me also means that 2.14million Parisians who were away on vacation are now back in the city. They have spent at least three weeks basking in the sun, taking siestes (naps), breathing in fresh air, with plenty of campagne (countryside/ space). Ready for work? Don’t think so. Worst of all, the drivers are on edge. Either they’re honking at everything that moves. Or they pay no attention to anything that moves and drive like snails.

I get real stressed at La Rentrée, so Ben, if you’re reading this: You’ll have to get the kids (when we have kids) ready for school. For now, it’s time for me to get away from this din…

LPC will be in San Francisco and the Big Apple for two weeks! Whoopee!

Posted by lpc at 07:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Every country has its watering holes… the English have pubs, the Germans pile into beer gardens, the French have les bistros à vin (wine bistros or wine bars). Typical wine bars like Le Baron Bouge serve only wine with different types of cheeses and slices of saucissons (dried sausages). . In recent years, les bistros à vin have included cooked food on their menus when more and more clients started demanding food and when the proprietaires (owners) realise that good wines should be enjoyed with food.

One of my favourite wine bars is Juvéniles, owned and run by Tim Johnstone, a boyish-looking transplanted Scot in France. Tim’s help are Cammy, a bubbly Australian, who makes clients feel welcome and at home at Juvéniles, and a Sri Lankan cook, who prepares all the meals with a smile. When I’m at Juvéniles, I’m relaxed and I joke and laugh with Tim, Cammy and the clients at the table beside me. Tim’s clientele consists of residents in the neighbourhood, old-time clients and also many Anglophones who either live in Paris or drop into Juvéniles every time they pass through Paris.

Tim sources his wines from all over France and also from far away lands like South America and Australia. He goes often to the French countryside to look for the best of the smaller good wines. He visits almost all the vineyards in France where he buys his cases of wine. The wine list changes when Tim finds something special or the wines run out, which is often. You can order the wine by the glass or demi-carafe or bottle. You can also walk in to buy bottles of wine.

At Juvéniles, we find the typical wine bar fare such as “Foie gras de carnard frais”, “Entrecôte de Montbéliard with pommes de terre sautées”, classic desserts like “crème brulée”. We also find Scottish favourites like haggis and mash (haggis is sheep intestines stuffed with meat) and light curries such as “Poulet tikka et concombre rafraîchissant” (chicken tikka curry with refreshing cucumbers).

Tonight, I tell Cammy that I’m parched from the heat and asked her to pick my wines… and then to pick the food to go with her choices of wine. I had a glass of Navarre 2001 “El Chaparral” Vega Sindoa from Spain, which was light and fresh, to go with a plate of jambon basque Ibaiona (dried Ibaiona ham from Spain) and ripe cantaloupe melon. For the main dish, I had fricasée of calamars aux épices et timbale de riz de Basmati (fried squids with spices and Basmati rice) to go with my second glass of Coteaux du Languedoc 2004 “Podio Alto” Domaine du Poujol. To finish off, I had a generous slice of chocolate cheesecake with a small glass of brandy de Jerez “Sënor Lustau Solera Reserva 40° from Spain.

My three course wines with dinner came up to €44. I leave for my real home, slightly zinged and with a full belly.

Juvéniles
47 rue Richelieu
75001, Paris
Tél : 01 42 97 46 49
Fax : 01 42 60 31 52
Métro : Pyramids, Opéra
Reservations advised esp during non-summer evenings

Posted by lpc at 11:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Has it ever happened to you? You tie a little red string round the right pinkie to remind you to do that one thing you wrote down in your moleskin notebook that is also referenced in the Blackberry… soon work piles up and then life gets more complicated and you forget to do that one thing at the end of the day… well, thankfully, I also have my blog friends who remind me: it’s August, girl! Time to preserve!

SHF No 22 is hosted by Nicky of Delicious Days, one of my favourite blogs. The theme this time is Jams and Preserves. How appropriate! Jam-making is one thing on my Want-to-do list. We are also at the tail end of summer, where fruits are at their ripest. Jams are a good way of bottling up a bit of summer to brighten up dreary winter. I can see myself still sleepy in my flannel PJs with my big coffee cup on the kitchen table. And I’m slathering roasted raspberry jam on a huge chunk of cereal bread; the wind’s picking up and it starts to drizzle outside… I’ll be thanking Nicky for that jam reminder in August… I made my first jam.

I’ve always thought jams, conserves and preserves are one of the hardest things to make. Not because they are hard to make, but that there are les petites trucs (those little things/ secrets) that make a jam good. Those petits astuces (little tips) that are passed on from generation to generation. Here’s what Anne-Marie, an excellent cook, advised when I asked about making jams:

Not sure about you… but apart from the first tip, the other two are still quite ambiguous to me. Or totally possible that I didn't catch everything properly in French. I think I’ll just have to take the plunge one day and make jam the traditional way with Anne-Marie in person.

Here is the simplest jam recipe I have ever seen, adapted from one of my favourite cookbooks River Café Cookbook Green I love effortless recipes like this. It tastes so good and everyone thinks you're a genius.

Voilà! My first jam!

At Nicky's suggestion, I have also designed a label for my lil' pot of jam. Click to see the blown-up label.

A little note about raspberries: These little red rubies are fragrant and very sweet smelling, but they are also highly perishable. They don’t hold very well at room temperature, and keep in the fridge for 1-2 days max. They can also be frozen. In Paris, raspberries are sold in little barquettes (plastic containers) which are usually 125g per barquette. You should look at the bottom of the barquette to check for mouldy or squashed raspberries. Raspberries should be very loosely packed.

Posted by lpc at 06:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

When I say that it’s difficult living in France, I really mean it. I’ve never missed that many trains, that many flights nor have that many misplaced parcels in my life. People have sent me parcels that have taken anything between 2 weeks and 2 months to arrive. There’s always something going on in France: the World Cup, rainy season, les grèves (strikes): the announced strikes and the surprise strikes (we are allowed up to 4 maximum surprise strike days in one year). I have grown “used” to the peculiarities of living in a foreign land.

But this one parcel that went AWOL*, I’m still not sure what hit me. In early February this year, I bought something online. The seller is a fellow Singaporean who quickly and efficiently shipped the goods 3 days upon payment. The parcel arrives in Paris on March 3rd with a demand that I pay les douanes (customs) EUR150. I almost flipped out. I called and explained to customs that the contents are not worth EUR150. Here’s how the conversation goes (all in French):

Mr Customs: “Madame, c’est bien marqué $500!” (Madam, it’s indicated as $500!)

LPC: Yes, But Mr Customs, that is 500 Singapore Dollars! Not 500 US Dollars.

Mr Customs: No, no. I’m sure it’s 500 US Dollars.

LPC: No, I’m sure – I’m from Singapore and that’s my parcel. I paid for the package. And I paid 500 Singapore dollars. I kid you not.

Mr Customs: Well, *floundering*… it’s too late. I’ve stamped the parcel to be returned to the sender. You can get the sender to resend if you want. *click*

Nice. So much for la politesse. (Politeness)

Three weeks later, the parcel arrives in Singapore. Long story short: the bag is now with my sister who sends it to me by registered post, well marked 500 SINGAPORE DOLLARS. Two weeks go by, then four, and 6 weeks later, the status of the parcel is still and always at customs. Here I’m thinking “Oh no, it’s the same connard! (French swear word for male brainless twit)”.

Many phone calls later, I managed to get the phone number of the delivery company that SingPost uses in Europe and spoke to a live person, Emma, who informs me that customs have stamped my parcel as counterfeit product and French customs have again sent it back to the sender. (Is this the luck or what?) How they went from branded goods being US$500 to counterfeit is beyond me. Emma promised that TNT will resend the package to me from Singapore at no extra charge if I am able to show proof of purchase, which has to be outside the box inside the plastic envelope. So, here we go again.

And all along, I’m tracking the whereabouts of this package: from Roissy, to Singapore in Iceland, to Singapore in China, back to Singapore, Singapore, the country of origin. I mean, where in Iceland is Singapore? Very very very south I would say.

Now, an even long-er story short-er: Emma** at TNT kept in touch with me all the way. Many persons got involved to get this receipt, the customs all over got copies of this receipt, confirmation of addresses, persons, identities… and 201 days later, the parcel arrives! WHOOOHOO! Can I say how relieved I am that this saga is f.i.n.a.l.l.y over?

Tonight, Ben and I have planned to go to the Four Seasons Hotel on Ave George V to celebrate an achievement at work. Like clockwork, we went to straight to Le Bar (the bar) and promptly ordered our martinis. We’ve made it our little “tradition” to come to the Four Seasons for the celebratory martini and dinner. We come here for a martini done right, soothing piano music, good food, and service with a smile, a change of pace, for things to go right and for three hours to forget that we are in Paris. My first martini is a Litchi martini, toasting Ben for a job well done. My second martini is the George V sour apple martini for the successful arrival of THE package. The second one went down smooth and fast.

*AWOL: military term for Absent Without Official Leave

**Emma at TNT is a God-send. For all the bad service I have received, Emma is one good apple in the crate - the best customer service I’ve had in France.

The Four Seasons Hotel
31 avenue George V
75008, Paris
Tel: 01 49 52 70 00
Fax: 01 49 52 70 10
Website for the Four Seasons Hotel in Paris
Métro: Charles de Gaulle Etoile

My French colleagues indulge themselves to a long leisurely 3 course lunch break at least once a week. In other companies, 2 hour long lunches are the norm. Lunch time in France is when we socialise with our colleagues, have business meetings, negotiate with clients, discuss current affairs: Sarko vs Sego, Does Chirac have 3 or 4 mistresses?, procrastinate about work etc… French colleagues seldom meet at the local pub/ bar for drinks after work or on the weekends. It’s just not done in the French culture. After work, it’s family time.

August, being a slow month… I’ve decided this is my one chance to take a 2 hour long lunch and not feel badly about it. Today, Ben and I take off for lunch together… our first long lunch in the year. (See? What’s not to like about August!) We met halfway at metro Miromesnil in the 8th arrondissement and made lunch for each other at L’Atelier des Chefs (Chefs’ workshop).

Upon arrival, we washed our hands and were given a disposable apron. There were 12 of us in the class and we were divided into 3 work stations. The ingredients: crab meat, onions, condiments, green leafy salad etc. were washed and cleaned for us. Our teacher chef, Philippe Kratz, taught us how to season and shape the crab cakes and led us through the whole cooking process.

Each workstation also had a stove assigned. We took turns to make our own crab cakes. My group was agreeable and we had fun cooking as a team. The class ate together at a long communal dining table. Dessert and wine are an additional EUR3-5.

In my opinion, L’atelier des Chefs at Rue Penthiève is what every cooking school should be: clean, modern, hands-on, no fuss, inventive, friendly and most importantly: affordable! Most cooking classes, through institutions like the Ritz Escoffier and Le Cordon Bleu are intense 9-month long classes and cost a fortune for those of us not seeking to be profession chefs. Others like Patricia Wells and Susan Hermann-Loomis are booked for years in advance by tourists who pay EUR2000 to EUR4000 for a 5-day course.

Classes at L’atelier des chefs, last between 30mins to 3hours, depending on the type of classes and the cost ranges from EUR15 for my lunch class called L’en Cas to EUR60 for “La Tradition”. There are also specialty classes, such as cocktail, potato, high tea etc.

I also like the fact that there are teacher chefs from different disciplines and restaurant backgrounds. The teacher chefs are approachable and are open to questions during and after classes. Most of the classes are taught in French, a few are in English. And even if you don’t speak French too well, you will be able to follow the cooking classes by observation and doing what your neighbour does. L’atelier des chefs at Rue Penthiève also has a bookstore and an equipment section.

Classes at L’atelier des chefs are also available in shopping centres/ malls Galleries Lafayette Maison in the 9th arrondissement and at Le Printemps Nation in the 20th arrondissement. The classes here take place in glass partitioned rooms. I’ve done a class at Galleries Lafayette Maison on a Saturday many moons ago and felt like a big fish in a small aquarium…. There is not much elbow room and we are bound to have some freak outside the aquarium making faces or doing something annoying.

No one bats an eye when I came back from my 2 hour lunch. Can August please last a little longer?

L’atelier des chefs
10 rue de Penthiève
Paris, 75008
Métro : Melimontant
All reservations are made on the website: http://www.atelierdeschefs.com

Posted by lpc at 01:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

August really is the month for indulgences for us, les travailleurs (the workers)… I get to go places in Paris I normally avoid during the year. Last night, we “tackled” the busy intersection in the 14th arrondissement. For me, Montparnasse is the eyesore La Tour Montparnasse that is probably ridden with asbestos, countless cinemas with glaring neon signs and hordes of people dashing in, about, around tons of crêperie stands. The Paris rollerblading crowd meets between Gare Montparnasse and Tour Montparnasse for their Friday night rollerblading and that intersection becomes even more of a nightmare for me… there’re better places to be in Paris on a Friday night.

Anyway, here I am on a balmy Tuesday evening in Montparnasse with no chance of getting run over and only good food and good company to be had. Ben and I meet my FMIL for dinner at La Coupole, which means “the dome”. La Coupole appears in many of the Paris guides for its architecture and place in history.

La Coupole used to be a wood and charcoal warehouse. Messieurs René Lafon and Ernest Fraux, then owners of the café Dôme, bought the warehouse in 1927 and refurbished it into the largest brasserie in Paris. La Coupole is more than 1000m2 and was patronised by all artists, from different cultures and walks of life, including writers like Ernest Hemmingway and Simone de Beauvoir…

Today, La Coupole is still one of the places in town to see and to be seen. The setting is perfect for this timeless pastime of people watching. From the outside, La Coupole doesn’t look like much. My FIL remarked that it looked like an IBIS Hotel . On the inside, La Coupole is decorated in Art Deco* style and is very well maintained by its current owners. I love the high ceilings and thought the brasserie is well partitioned by the 33 green marbled and gilded pillars. I also like the big brasserie feel to it, further accentuated by the mirrors, square-ish designs and tiled floors.

I ordered “Le fameux curry de l’agneau à l’Indienne depuis 1927” (The famous lamb Indian lamb curry since 1927). The curry came with some rice and chutney, big cuts of lamb and stewed apples. I was disappointed with the curry, as it was not spicy at all for my Singaporean tongue. But the locals must like it for this recipe to survive 79 years. Or was it a marketing gig? Ben ordered an asparagus risotto, which was good but the portion was small and more like an entrée (appetizer). The best deal was the seafood platter, which was fresh and a good brasserie size serving.

Verdict: The food is only so-so, but lovely Art Deco setting.

*The name “Art Deco” was first coined at the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriel Modernes, a World’s Fair held in Paris in 1925. The Art deco movement occurred at the same time as the rapid social and technological advances of the early 20th Century and is also influenced by African and Egyptian arts. The style is characterised by the use of “modern” materials such as aluminium, stainless steel, lacquer and sharkskin, zebra skin, inlaid wood. Bold use of zigzag shapes, stepped forms and big curves.

La Coupole
102 boulevard Montparnasse
Paris, 75014
Tél : 01 43 20 14 20
Métro : Vavin or Montparnasse
Non-smoking and open all year round

Posted by lpc at 04:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

August is the excuse for everything in Paris. In August, we do things that we don’t normally do.

Like driving for instance. For someone who lives here, driving in Paris in August is heaven. Not only is parking free, we can park anywhere at any time, day or night. And often times we have more than one parking spot to choose from. It took us 13mins from our home to le bureau (the office) today, all the way across town…. Thus, we are driving every single day in August to work!

For others, like my internet provider ALICE, August is justifying why my request cannot be processed. “Yes, Madame, we promised it would be done in 3 weeks’ time. But you know (small pause for emphasis), your dateline falls in August. C’est les vacances! (It’s the holidays!). So, we promise it will be processed à la rentrée (when school begins).” That’s another 4 weeks away from August 1. And I, the customer, am once again held hostage.

Apart from my internet non-connection, I like August in Paris. My clients are on vacation. For the entire month, I get to leave le bureau at “normal” hours. I like when the Parisians leave the city and congregate at the beach. I have the city to myself. I get to visit some museums; I picnic before a film showing at Cinéma en plein air at La Villette ; I hang out with friends. My boulangerie stays open, my boucher and verger are back from their vacations. What else do I really need? (OK, maybe my dry cleaner!) I actually enjoy the fact that a lot of the usual haunts and services aren’t available, so I get to explore places I don’t usually go to.

Ben and I ventured into Vietnam-town in the 13th arrondissement for our first Vietnamese meal. A colleague recommended Le Bambou on rue Baudricourt. Is Vietnamese food d.e.l.i.c.i.o.u.s ! I explained to Mdm Nguyen that we were new to Vietnamese cuisine and if she would show us what we were missing. Mdm Nguyen smiled a big smile, nodded and said “OK. You will be happy.”

I had Ban Cuon, which looks like a steamed dumpling. It is filled with a minced filling of pork, shrimp, dried mushrooms and spring onions. Mdm Nguyen tells me that it is similar to Chinese dim sum dumplings but the process of making the steamed wrapper is different and more laborious. We dip the Ban Cuon in hot sauce before eating. The Ban Cuon melts at first bite. Yum – very delicious!

Ben had pork Nems, which is similar to the Chinese spring rolls (or egg rolls). We roll each Vietnamese Nem in a cabbage leave, with mint leaves and then dip it in Nouc Mam (Vietnamese fish sauce).

We had Phó with thin shavings of beef and meat balls. Phó in Vietnamese means “your own bowl” and is the only Vietnamese dish that is served in individual portions. The meat is served with the noodles and broth. Then we add our own fresh green herbs and condiments. I added all the cilantro, basil, mint and other leaves that came with my phó. There were two red hot sauces that were served in small dishes. We can dip our meat slivers in the sauces before eating.

Le Bambou serves Vietnamese food from several regions in Vietnam. We find beef dishes, (one of the few nice things picked up from the Mongolians during the invasions), pork dishes, and rice dishes from the South (or near the Mekong River, where rice is grown). Red chillies and fish sauce seem to be the main condiments. There is minimal use of oil and an abundance of fresh vegetables, fresh herbs. Meat seems to be a “side” dish rather than a main dish…. Dare I say Vietnamese food is one of the healthiest cuisines in the world?

Mdm Nguyen was right – we were very happy with our meal. And we’ll be going back to Le Bambou very soon!

Le Bambou
70 rue Baudricourt
75013, Paris
tél: 01 45 70 91 75
métro: Place d'Italie
Close on Mondays

Posted by lpc at 12:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

While vacationing (read: vege-ing) in Corsica, I finally had a big chunk of time to sink into a few books, in between the many naps I took. This year, because of late planning on my part, our dog Ziek, vacationed in a kennel with his girlfriend Tina. I must have missed him heaps subconsciously, as I brought my first “dog book” ever, and on vacation.

Marley and Me is definitely a dog lover’s book. Only a dog lover can keep up with what seems like the dog from hell. I kept shaking my head from the first chapter when Paul and Jenny brought Marley home… “Uh-oh, they are in for a rough ride.”

Marley has bulldozed through door screens, ran off with women’s underwear, chewed through drywall, couches, and ate its master’s jewellery. The dog has a knack of stealing food and chomping down anything he deems fit. Whenever he would chomp down something he knew was “out-of-bounds”, he would do the Marley Mambo… backing up and swaying his hips from side to side. I had never heard of a dog that got kicked out of obedience class before reading the book. It grossed me out to read about Marley’s fur, his dribbles and splatters of saliva in the car, on the couch, basically, everywhere. Eeeks! Marley, however has a heart of gold, and was an active part of the Grogan family through it’s ups and downs, and even playing a small role in a movie, and helping to save a victim’s life.

While reading, I thank my lucky stars for Ziek, our half chow chow, half Caucasian shepherd. Having said that, Ziek is no angel. We too have had our fair share of chewed up magazines… sleepless nights with the bravest dog in the world during lightning storms and thunderstorms. Ziek would just about flip out of his skin to hide in the deepest hole on the ground. I could also sympathise how difficult it can be having a dog in the city and all the sacrifices we make for our furry family member.

I cried buckets when Paul and Jenny had to make that difficult decision towards the end of Marley’s life… no matter what a pain-in-the-neck the dog is, he’s still family… it felt like they were chopping a part of themselves off.

Posted by lpc at 02:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)