Friday, March 21, 2008

Back in Paris, Back in Blogland

Ah faithful readers, your lovable truffle boy has returned. Apparently it takes a trip out of the country for me to squeeze time from my schedule, under-ripe lime though it often seems to be. Well, I'm back in Paris with K and another traveling companion I'll call V. Actually, I should probably give a quick run down of the 36-hours we spent in Amsterdam en route to France.

It was the third time K and I made an extended Amsterdam stopover and we know exactly what we want to eat, see, and do while we're in town for a few hours. Apparently, there is very little in the way of Dutch "national" food as many Netherlanders will proudly declare Indonesian to be their native cuisine. So, each time we visit we hit up Indrapura, a tasty little spot in Rembrandtplein that serves up rijsttafel, a fixed-menu meal featuring a variety of Indonesia tapas. Here's how the restaurant's website explains the the meal:
The origin of the concept 'rijsttafel' is difficult to trace. According to one legend it referes to the actual table used by the Dutch settlers during the colonial days in Indonesia. A traditional Indonesian meal is always based on white rice, not only because it is noutricious, but also for its calming and soothing effect in combination with spicy dishes. One fish or meat dish accompanied the rice seasoned with 'sambal' or chilipeper. In colonial days a simple meal like this symply did not satisfy the appetite of the Dutch planters, so a greater variety of dishes, from all over the islands, was added. It is this large amount of tasty dishes that as a whole forms the elaborate 'rijsttafel' of today.
It is tasty. Very. We chose the Purnama for 29 euros a person. White rice, fried rice, tempeh, peanuts, cucumber salad, spicy mango salad, various skewered meats (lamb, beef, pork) in satay-like sauces, various slow-cooked meats in peanut sauce and soy souce, shrimp crackers, a cabbage dish, and at least 3 other dishes I can't remember. Good deal. None of the individual entrees is, itself, more than casually appetizing, but altogether as a spread it is filling and offers a really diverse tasting. K mentioned that about half the dishes seem to offer very Thai flavors while the others rely more on Indian spices.

Another don't miss in Amsterdam is the Pancake Bakery. If you're like us and chose your digs in the Reguliersgracht/Rembrandtplein area, then you might want to take bikes to visit this adorable and cozy pancake specialist. Be forewarned though: this place does not serve breakfast and they do not even open until noon. Or rather, much of what they serve can be deemed breakfast but you cannot dare to deem it so until after noon. At any rate, Dutch pancakes are like French crepes but a little bit thicker. And Dutch syrup, stroop, is super-thick as well, smokier (can you use that for sweets?) and richer (but less sweet) than maple or, deity-of-your-choice forbid, Aunt Jemima. All three of us went for savory options. V ordered the very delicious Greek pancake (lamb, feta, onions, tzatziki), K went for my favorite, the Swedish (coriander and thyme marinated reindeer, onions, carrots, cabbage, poached pears, and cranberry sauce), and I tried something new with the Canadian (with crispy bacon, onions, mushrooms, ham, cheese, and curry sauce). We ripped off some "untouched" pieces of our pancakes and covered them with stroop to save money on dessert. Stingy? Yes. Tasty? Yes.

And right before you hop the tram to the train station, make sure to stop at the northwest corner of Rembrandtplein for Vlaamse Frites. While you'll only rarely catch me touching the white nastiness we call mayonaise in these United States of ours, Euronaise is a whole different creature. A delicious creature that pairs perfectly with deep fried potatoes. Do it. Smother them. Pack lots of napkins and tell your arteries to be quiet!

Okay...on to Paris:

The Paris apartment this time around is on Rue du Temple, just two blocks west of the Seine and just a few blocks north of many of our favorite Marais haunts. We had a bit of a nightmare getting into the apartment the first night and, homeless at 12:30 in the am, ended up crashing into Belle Hortense with all of our luggage because it felt "safe." Who goes to a French literary wine bar in the middle of a crisis? Truffle boy does. While K and V tried to figure out where we were going to sleep that night, I got the menu from the nearby restaurant Les Philosophes (along with Le Petit Fer A Cheval, all three share an owner) and ordered "delivery" to the wine bar, where I was "safely" ensconced with my Sancerre. I got Steak Tartare for myself (how else does one know one has arrived in Paris?) and picked up salads for the ladies. K's was one of those delightful French creations topped with smoked duck breast, prosciutto, avocado, beets, and hot goat cheese on little toasts.

The apartment has a clean and reasonably well-appointed kitchen. Slick electric range & a nuker, but no oven and the cutlery might better befit a Fisher Price Kitchenette. No matter: V and I have already been cooking up a storm. Last night I braised some chicken quarters (doused in a little cumin, garlic powder, basil, salt, pepper, and flour--the only pantry items in the apartment!) in Riesling with carrots, leeks, and onions. Tonight, V and I shared kitchen duties. I picked up some goodness from Hedonisme (6 Rue du Mezieres), a lovely little organic/artisinal shop. Left with organic gnocchi, organic truffle butter (which, of course, is composed entirely of TRUFFLES and BUTTER!), and a bagful of pretty veggies. V prepared a lovely salad with a lemon-shallot dressing (as I said, we have nothing in our pantry) and I made the inset gnocchi with sauteed mushrooms & shallots, basil and garlic powder, and a few spoons full of truffle butter (oh, dear readers: may my veins run thick with the stuff when they cut me open on judgment day!).

Au Revoir! More soon...

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