NYC French Resto Review: A.O.C

According to this restaurant's menu, A.O.C stands for "l'Aile ou la cuisse" (The wing or the thigh).  French wine drinkers, Roquefort eaters, and Dijon mustard spreaders, however, will recognize the three initials as meaning "appellation d’origine contrôlée" (controlled designation of origin), which is a certification handed out by the French government that ensures, among other things, a product's terroir.  Details.  All you really need to know is that if you ever find yourself hungry in the West Village you should eat at A.O.C.

Hungry and in the West Village is exactly where a DC-based friend and I found ourselves yesterday afternoon.  The menu looked good and the prices looked reasonable, so we decided to give this corner bistro a try.  We opted to sit in their garden patio out back, which was a excellent decision considering NYC weather has finally gone from miserably hot to pleasantly summer.  I ordered the merguez frites for $13.50 and she had the soupe du jour and 1/2 sandwich for $11.50.  Both meals were delicious, not to mention excellent values considering the amount of food we received for what we paid in an expensive part of town.

A.O.C's interior looks like it was flown in from Paris, while the garden patio lets you soak in this beautiful New York City neighborhood.  Other menu items that I wanted to try were the demi poulet, the salade de chèvre chaud, and the croque monsieur.  And while A.O.C offers many of the French classics - coq au vin, and entrecôte, par exemple - not to mention American favorites like les burgers, they unfortunately don't prepare my favorite French dish: boeuf bourgiugnon.  Nevertheless, a stellar find in one of my favorite areas of the city.  I'll be back. 

Greensburg, Kansas

I was just in Kansas on a two-day work trip, specifically to visit the town of Greensburg, population 900.  While I was at a loss to find a French connection there, I thoroughly enjoyed the charm, warmth, and friendliness that one finds in rural America.  But maybe that's the connection: Some would argue that in both the United States and France it's the small towns and villages that have the most welcoming citizens.  In any case, this was one small town (with a compelling story) that I won't soon forget.

Seeing Paris in New York City

The sight of this building stopped me dead in my tracks.  How did such a typically Parisian entrance find its way to 82nd and Park? And when can I move in?

If You Must Go to France in August...

Would most Francophones, Francophiles, and other French partisans out there agree with me that August is the worst month for a trip to France?  You know the drill:  Paris empties of Parisians, the Côte d'Azur overflows with tourists, hotels raise their prices, and stores take their full month of "fermeture annuelle."  I once came across an ice cream shop in the St.-Germain-des-Prés neighborhood that announced it would be closing for the month of August.  An ice cream shop.  Closed in August.  If that's not a sign to turn back now, I don't know what is.

But if you must go to France in August, it's possible you can avoid much of the month's nonsense by steering clear of some of the more traditional end-of-summer locales (i.e. Paris and beaches).  In August 2008 I spent a weekend in the Champagne region touring caves and drinking lots of bubbly.  Absent were the hordes of tourists that plague cities like Nice and Cannes this time of year.  Instead of fighting for a little scrap of sand, we played tennis on wide open courts, signed up for a private tasting at Moët and Chandon, and dined alongside locals. 

If you must go to France in August, try breaking away from the pack.  Nearly all of France is a tourist destination, but some areas are more crowded at certain times of the year (example: Strasbourg and its famous Christmas market in December). Why not look at August as the time to explore outside of Paris?   And why not save your beach vacation for a more tranquil time?  August could be the perfect time to eat and drink your way through Burgundy, hike the Pyrennes, or sample French beers in Lille.

Or maybe it's the perfect time to plan your September trip to France. 

America Remakes French Films

It took me awhile to figure out that "Dinner for Schmucks," a new movie starring Steve Carrel and Paul Rudd, was more than just a summer comedy with an unappealing promotional poster.  It's also a remake of a very famous French flim called "Le dîner de cons."  In fact, haven't a fair number of French films been remade in America?  A few that quickly came to mind were:

Mon père, ce héros - My Father the Hero

La cage aux folles - Birdcage

Trois hommes et un couffin - Three Men and a Baby

A Google search turned up an article that better outlines this Franco-American cinematic phenomenon, lists numerous French films that have been remade in the States, and includes video clips.  Anything missing from the list?

The New York Baguette Search

It's the Holy Grail of French cuisine in the United States: An authentic baguette.  None of this dense, chewy, bland bread they sell in supermarkets or place on your table in restaurants.  I'm talking about a hurt-the-roof-of-your-mouth crunchy on the outside, melt-in-your-mouth airy on the inside, honest to goodness French baguette.  It's a difficult thing to find on this side of the Atlantic, but I'm betting that if they're anywhere, they're in New York City.  Because, really, this city has everything. 

With that in mind, I'm on a mission to find an authentic French baguette in the Big Apple.  My time here is quickly slipping away - only five weeks to go -  so I have to act fast.  If you know of any good places to get authentic French bread in NYC, I'd be happy to hear about it.  In the meantime, I'll be searching Google and the West Village for leads while toting around a jar of Nutella.  Just in case I find a baguette worthy of it. 
To be continued...

French Women Don't Get Fat?

When Mireille Guiliano released her buzzworthy book, French Women Don't Get Fat: The Secret of Eating for Pleasure, back in 2005, I had not the slightest bit of interest in reading it.   At time I felt burnt out on tales of the French and their miraculously trim bodies.  Plus, I had already been to France and seen actual French women, so I thought, "Of course they don't get fat, they all chain smoke!"

Fast forward five years, and I know better than to think all French women chain smoke, or that there isn't something special going on in their country that keeps more of its citizens slim than we seem to be able to do here in the U.S.  So when I noticed Ms. Guiliano's book on my roommate's bookshelf I decided to put away my old hang-ups and take a look.

If you've read anything by Michael Pollan - the famous food guru of late - you'll instantly recognize some similarities between his message and that of Ms. Guiliano.   I just read Omnivore's Dilemma and In Defense of Food, where he emphasizes the importance of eating real food (sans chemicals, additives, etc) and of avoiding "food" fads (margarine, anyone?).  In French Women Don't Get Fat (FWDGF), we learn that eating real food is one of the French woman's secrets to maintaining a svelte figure.  Mr. Pollan also highlights the role of relying on culture and history to guide our eating choices.  Is that thing on your plate something your great-grandmother would have recognized as food?  No?  Then don't even think about it.  FWDGF waxes poetic about French food culture and history and their positive role in shaping the choices of a hungry French woman.  Here's a quote from FWDGF that pretty much sums it up:

"French women don't get fat because they have not allowed new attitudes and modern theories of how the body uses food to overrule centuries of experience."

With her no-fuss, no-muss attitude toward food Ms. Guiliano won my affection.  I'm someone who's looking for a return to common sense at the dinner table, and that's what she's offering.  FWDGF did, however, irk me in a couple of big ways.  First,  Ms. Guiliano's assertion that French women don't obsess about their weight and diets like American women struck me as a bit overstated considering the number of pharmacy windows in France that are decked out in ads for everything from cellulite-reducing cream to tummy-flatting teas.  What's more, her disdain for working out at the gym or going for a run outside is very French, but I appreciate that some Americans (including myself) choose to keep fit this way, and there might just be a few French women (and men!) who could benefit from the same.

That said, I greatly enjoyed this book.  It's a fun, quick read filled with lots of easy-to-implement tips for daily life and down-to-earth stories about the author's own struggle with weight (she currently lives and works in New York City where she is president and CEO of Clicquot, Inc...get jealous).  Plus, it has recipes, and adding recipes to your book is a sure way to turn me into a loyal reader.

Have you read FWDGF?  What did you think?

McDonald's at the Louvre

One of my favorite television shows, CBS Sunday Morning, ran a story this weekend about the McDonald's that will soon open in the Louvre's food court.  Not that there were any decent choices there to begin with (France commits its own special culinary sins, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise), but the appearance of "MacDo" seems to be stirring up some ire.  All of this despite the fact that, as the report points out, after the U.S., France is the largest consumer of McDonald's in the world.  Bon appetit!

You can read the full story on their website, as told by a reporter the show calls "Our Man in Paris."  Maybe they need an "Our Woman in Paris," too? 

Cheap(er) French Wine

I just found my new favorite store in New York City.  It's called Warehouse Wines & Spirits, it's at 735 Broadway, and it's amazing.

The fortuitous discovery took place while on a Bastille Day wine hunt.  I just moved to a new neighborhood in Manhattan (The East Village, was previously in Brooklyn) and hadn't stumbled across a liquor store yet.  Then, on my way to the gym I saw this store's enormous yellow sign and knew I was on the right track.  But I didn't know that it was a discount wine store selling everything from Côtes du Rhone to Champagne at very agreeably marked-down prices.   A bottle of Moët for $35?  Check.  Pinot Noir from Burgundy for $13?  Yep.  Row after row of French wine (with a surprising number of bouteilles for $10 or less), helpfully organized by region and thoughtfully described on accompanying note cards?  Oui.  Maybe I'm out of touch with wine prices, but I they sure seemed like good deals to me. 

The store also has a large clearance rack (one of my favorite places to stock up), friendly, helpful staff, and (this is New York City, after all) a considerable number of shady looking characters scraping together pennies to buy cheap rum and vodka.  But they're harmless.  If you're in town and in need of recession-proof St.-Émilion you can't ignore Warehouse Wines & Spirits.  I'll see you there.

Le 14 Juillet

Two years ago today I was sitting under the Eiffel Tower enjoying a baguette/cheese/saucisson picnic while waiting for the sky to light up with Bastille Day fireworks.  This year I'm in NYC, and since I was in LA during last weekend's local French fête, I'll probably just celebrate by opening a nice bottle of French wine and sharing it with my roommates while we escape the opressive heat in front of our window unit air conditioner.  Sure, it's not like being in Paris, but hey, there's wine.  I can live with that. 

Are you doing something super chouette to celebrate Bastille Day?  Last week I asked Parisian Spring readers to enter the first Parisian Spring Bastille Day Contest by sharing their July 14th plans.  Responses ranged from making macarons to reminicing about fabulous Parisian vacations gone by.  But there can only be one winner, and after completing my ultra scientific selection process (ok, I randomly drew a name out of a hat), the winner is...

Blue Penguin

Félicitations!  I'll be sending you a copy of David Lebovitz's "The Sweet Life in Paris" as well as a mousepad featuring a French WWI propaganda poster (but first you have to send your mailing address to me at trbrothen@gmail.com).

Thanks to everyone who participated.  Happy Bastille Day! 

Review: jetBlue

In the span of about three weeks I will have flown jetBlue no less than four times: NYC-SEA, SEA-NYC, NYC-LAX, and LAX-NYC.  I will also have crossed the entire United States four times, which is no easy feat considering I could probably have gotten to London in the time it takes me to get to the West Coast, so it has been a relief to spend those airborne hours in the comfort of my leather, satellite TV-equipped, leg room a-plenty jetBlue seat.

If you've enjoyed flying with Virgin America, you'd enjoy flying with jetBlue.  They're similar in their laid back approach to air travel and their serious efforts to give fliers a few welcome perks.  Both offer satellite TV (free) and a handful of movies (pay), which are a lifesaver when you've got time to burn on a transcontinental flight.  They both also offer a wide selection of decent-for-airlines food for purchase, and they keep their fares competitive with deep discounts for flights purchased well in advance and regular sales.  But jetBlue goes even further by offering free snacks (your choice of cookies, terra chips, cashews, animal crackers, and often a few others) and one free checked bag.  It's a bit sad that we consider a free checked bag to be a perk when recent memory tells us all airlines used to check our bags for free, but in today's pared down flying climate we travelers take what we can get.

The jetBlue terminal at JFK offers additional extras like charging stations for your electronics and a chic bar with small bites and a decent wine list.  All in all, jetBlue is an affordable, comfortable, and, dare I say it, fun airline.  Like Virgin America they fly limited routes, but if they're flying yours I recommend you book a flight and, while you're at it, join their TrueBlue rewards program.  You'll be back.

The Parisian Spring Bastille Day Contest

Bastille Day may be France's national holiday, but people all over the world seem to enjoy celebrating 1789's most infamous prison break.  For example, cities all over the United States (even Milwaukee!) hold block parties,  stage Bastille-storming reenactments, and drink plenty of celebratory wine.

For my own July 14th celebration I'm hosting the first Parisian Spring Bastille Day Contest!  You could win one of my favorite books about the City of Light: "The Sweet Life in Paris," by David Lebovitz.  His observations on life in Paris among the Parisians will ring true to anyone who has spent time there (or inspire anyone who hasn't spent time there to buy a plane ticket already), and the recipes that accompany each chapter are easy and delicious.

Of course, Bastille Day isn't really about food, but it is largely about the French military (see: impressive military parade on the Champs-Elysées), so I'll also throw in mousepad with a World War I-era French propaganda poster.  Vive la France!

You know you want to read up on la vie Parisienne while baking a French gâteau and gazing at your tri-colore and Marianne inspired mousepad, so...how do you enter the Parisian Spring Bastille Day Contest?

It's easy!  Just leave a comment below telling me how you plan to celebrate Bastille Day.  And since this French-inspired contest is blissfully free of French bureaucracy, I'll accept any comment that has any French theme you can think of.  Not celebrating Bastille Day?  Tell me what you love about France, or a French word you know, or a French city you'd like to visit.  No red tape here, just prizes.

A few important details:

1.  The Parisian Spring Bastille Day Contest starts today and ends at noon EST on July 14th.
2.  I will select a winner using the tried and true method of picking a name out of a hat.
3.  Be sure to leave your email address with your comment so I can contact you if you win.
4.  If you also tweet this contest and mention @TanyaBrothen I will enter your name into the hat twice.
4.  I will ship the prizes anywhere in the world.
5.  Have fun!  We are celebrating liberté, égalité, and fraternité, after all.

So, what are you doing this year to celebrate Bastille Day?

Ladurée in Los Angeles

This week, I'm back on the West Coast to celebrate our nation's birthday as well as my own. For the first vacation breakfast we headed downtown to a French restaurant in a section of Los Angeles that is well into a much-needed revival: Bottega Louie. The first thing you notice about Bottega Louie is that it's enormous. The interior has soaring ceilings, kitchens that open onto the dining floor, and multiple seating arrangements, including a full bar, a section of café-style tables, and a formal dining room. The second thing you notice about Bottega Louie is that it feels a lot like like a certain Paris-based Macaron Mecca called Ladurée.

Like Ladurée, Bottega Louie makes and sells a range of colorful macarons that are packaged in pastel colored boxes created to induce delighted oohs and aahs when revealed to the lucky participants of whatever dinner party, work gathering, or birthday celebration they attend. If macarons aren't your thing (guilty as charged), Bottega Louie also offers a full range of French-inspired tarts, éclairs, breads, beignets, and croissants. I picked up a $6.00 fruit tart with a Tahitian vanilla filling. In my opinion, it's the cream filling that can make or break a tart, and this particular rendition did not disappoint. Bottega Louie's breads and breakfast (we had lemon ricotta pancakes with blueberry syrup and an egg, cheese, and bacon sandwich) all hit the mark.

The main difference between Bottega Louie and Ladurée, other than geography and celebrity, is atmosphere. Bottega Louie is French-inspired in its menu, but American in its atmosphere - it's lively, friendly, and decidedly West Coast-relaxed. In contrast, dining at Ladurée is an exercise in proper Parisian behavior. The dining rooms are quiet, the servers aloof, and the portions minuscule. But they do make a mean pâtisserie.

Happy Canada Day!

I've never been to Canada and I'm not sure why. I grew up a mere 5 hours from the Canadian border, it has a French-speaking province, and I've heard nothing but good things about the people, places, and culture of our neighbor to the north. So I really have no excuse.

What's more, Canada has never been anything but good to me. According to Parisian Spring statistics, a large portion of my readers hail from Canada. So I'd like to take the time this July 1st to wish all of my Canadians friends out there a very happy Canada Day. Thank you so much and merci beaucoup for being such loyal Parisian Spring readers! I look forward to that splendid day in the future when I finally make it across the border.

The Everlasting Parisian Honeymoon

When I first arrived in New York City, I was what you might call bright eyed and bushy tailed.  I had never lived here before, and was brimming with excitement as I thought about the endless possibilities a summer in the Big Apple held.   I even blogged about my first impressions of the city, and they were mostly positive.  The people are so nice!  We're free to be you and me!  But one month later, after you've seen a pack of rats in the subway, found a roach in your shower, trampled through garbage lined streets that no one ever seems to clean up, and spent night after night in an urban apartment sans air conditioning during a brutal summer heat wave, your bright eyes start to dim.  The honeymoon is over.

I'm still glad to be here, and I know there are many good things to come this summer (and many good things that have already happened), but I now have a more realistic outlook on life in NYC.  In short, it's hard.  And often uncomfortable.  All of this musing on the city got me thinking about my first impressions of Paris.  Unlike New York, my first impressions of Paris were mostly negative.  The city felt overwhelming, and I didn't think it lived up to the hype.   I used to go so far as to claim that I hated Paris.  Why would anyone spend time in that gloomy city when they could hang out on the sunny beaches of the South of France?

Unlike New York City, my honeymoon with Paris came after the first impressions.  And it has yet to end.  I visited Paris once more before moving there in February of 2008 and I didn't hate it!  I wandered the streets with my camera, spent time gazing in amazement at the Eiffel Tower, and downed sweet crêpes purchased from sidewalk vendors.  Paris was growing on me.  My appreciation for the city only continued to grow during the six months I lived there.  Even today, far away from France, I dream about Paris and all of its delights - from impromptu baguette and cheese picnics, to discovering a new favorite café, to never tiring of the view from the top of the Arc de Triomphe.

And it kind of makes sense that New York would immediately suck you and later spit you out, while your relationship with Paris grows stronger over time.  That's often how people describe friendships in the U.S. and France.  Americans make friends quickly, even immediately.  Someone you just met at a neighborhood get-together will soon know you entire life story, and you will know his or hers, and a new friendship (or, more likely, a friendship for the afternoon) is born.  But the French take weeks, months, even years to warm up to new people.  Friendships aren't immediate, they're something that develop slowly over time.  You have to get to know each other first, little by little. Just like me and Paris.