Flashback: Julia Child's Cheese Quiche, Almost (originally published 1/13/08)

Julia Child would have been 100 years old today.  Hopefully Child's kitchen will go back on display soon at the American History Museum in DC (the wing is merely closed for renovations, so it is coming back).  Child-mania has rightfully come back, if it ever died down in the first place, since Julie & Julia (which I have my own ideas on from this post in 2009).  One of my favorite Child recipes was her simple and easy omelette.  A bit more difficult is her cheese quiche, which didn't really turn out well at first.

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Julia Child's Cheese Quiche, Almost (originally published January 13, 2008)


I have tackled the master, and the master has won.

At least at first.

A week or so ago I scored this great used copy of Julia Child's French Chef Cookbook. It was a lesser-known edition but the same recipes. I didn't have a Julia Child cookbook, so this was a nice edition to my library. Child, of course, needs no introduction. Born and raised in Pasadena - California, not Maryland, of course - and introduced to French cuisine by her husband, she eventually mastered French cookin', popularizing French cuisine and fine dining in mainstream America. She also was a pioneer in instructional cooking television. She is, of course, the Goddess. How many chefs could say their entire kitchen was transported and replicated in the National Museum of American History? In the Smithsonian for Heaven's sake? Bobby Flay brags about many things, but I doubt he will ever brag about that one. Same for Rachael Ray or Paula Deen or Anthony Bourdain. I'm going on a ridiculous tangent so I'll just go on.

We should demand a Food Network Classic for Julia Child. Her, Jeff Smith and the Galloping Gourmet. Anyway...

I had some eggs burning a hole in my fridge (strange picture in my mind), and a bag of mozzarella ready to turn. I needed to use them. So I found a few quiche recipes in the cookbook and settled on her quiche au fromage (Cheese Quiche, p. 257 in this edition - but aw hell, there are so many editions you should just look it up in the index). My first thought was: aren't all quiches "cheese quiches"? But maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.


As always I cannot reprint the recipe. Just know that I needed to layer the bottom with 2/3 of a cup of Swiss. Only problem: no Swiss in my fridge! But like I said, I had that mozzarella to get rid of, so I used that.  Then I needed to mix egg, nutmeg, salt, pepper and milk. Whoa, hold on. I have no milk either. Yes, that's right, no milk. I did have some buttermilk to use up though. After mixing in the buttermilk, I poured it all into the pie shell, sprinkled on the rest of the cheese and dots of butter (my arteries are hardening already) and, just for some pizazz, a chopped-up shallot. Next I bake it for 30 minutes at 375 degrees.

I occasionally do some dumb things, and after half an hour the quiche was about half-baked. Perhaps the buttermilk meant that I needed to cook it longer. Perhaps - I had to bake it almost twice as long to get it to resemble anything more than runny scrambled eggs.



After a night in the fridge it felt and looked much more like a real quiche. This is probably much closer to what Julia Child had in mind in the first place. And it tastes lovely. So next time I will adjust the cooking time if I use buttermilk. Though I'm curious to see what it'll be like if I actually follow the directions, which I'll do next time. Never mess with the master, at least not the first time around.



Source:

Child, Julia. The French Chef Cookbook (1971, 1968: Bantam Books, New York, NY)

Julia Child and the Perfect Omelette

Julia Child passed seven years ago today.  In memoriam, her classic omelette.  I learned how to make it from her.

Parce que c'est la Fête Nationale (de la France)

Today is Bastille Day, and hopefully we are having a better one than the French Women's World Cup team (congrats to our own Women's World Cup team, who play Japan in the final round on Sunday).

Back to Bastille Day: find some good French eatin' around town this weekend - anything from crepes to escargot (Urbanspoon has the lowdown on all the French food around Baltimore). Or you could just pack up a Chinese food container with profiteroles lovingly made in your kitchen in the Hamptons, like Ina does. Because nothing screams "Overthrow the monarchy!" like the Hamptons.

Tidbits: Early July Edition

A few things I've been eating lately:

* I have been playing a lot of soccer lately - both pickup and league, and my shins hurt like hell (note to self: find something to make these shinguards more, er, comfortable to wear while running around for one or two hours). Last night after one such pickup game down in DC (where I did pretty well, considering my lack of experience), I headed to Adams Morgan for a quick beer and bite before making the long slog home. I ended up at the cozy L'Enfant Cafe & Bar where I ordered a delicious savory crepe of salmon & boursin cheese ($13). It was a bargain, though the refreshing cherry beer I ordered, normally served with ice, clocked in at $10! That kind of took me by surprise (note to self: ask how much the damn beer costs).

* Whenever I eat Indian, I often gravitate to one or two recipes that are tried and true favorites: chicken tikka masala, saag gosht (lamb with spinach), murgh makhani (butter chicken), etc. At Mughal Garden the other night I settled on something somewhat different: their lamb methi ($14), which is lamb in a fenugreek sauce (hence the methi, which is fenugreek). It's not a taste I can easily describe, because I don't have a reference point. It's a very mellow dish, a lovely one with a lot of sauce you can soak up with much of your garlic naan. I recommend it.

* I haven't been to Rocket 2 Venus lately. I did go last week, and could not get over how quickly I was seated... and how my waiter just completely forgot about me (very irritated about that). Fortunately after about ten minutes of tapping my fingers and checking my email, a waiter did come by to find out if I was being helped (nope), and my service was quite fast after that. R2V is a place with such an eclectic menu that you can spend a good long while trying to figure out what to order - maybe that was a plus for waiting while people seated after me ended up ordering first. After all the classic American, Southern, Western, Chesapeake, Cajun and Korean offerings, I ordered the bulgogi plate with fried rice ball, mashed potatoes & kimchi ($13). It was a very satisfying experience, with the soft bulgogi, kimchi and potatoes providing a flavorful contrast against each other. Plus, my food came out much faster than I had anticipated.

* Alas, all the area Super Fresh stores are now history, excepting for the one downtown on N. Charles Street. Some of them are already slated to become something else (like the one in Hampden, for example). The rest are just sitting around, twiddling their thumbs. I hope a Harris Teeter or something moves into the one on Putty Hill.

* I realized the other day: sometimes you want a nice, hearty breakfast of pancakes, sausage, bacon, etc., just like Mom used to make. And other times, all you want is a bowl of kimchi flavored noodles (second kimchi reference in this post, by the way).

* Find out in a few weeks what happened to this little guy that I got at the Maine Avenue Fish Market in Washington, DC, for all of $7 a pound:


* Soda update: I have been sticking to about 2 cans a day. With Dad in the hospital and the occasional late long drive back from DC I have allowed myself a little more of the stuff. But on the contrary, I have also found myself just normally drinking less. It's been a long time since I have ordered it in the restaurant, preferring beer, tea or water (I did order a soda at Lou's City Bar after a game the other day, to give me a shot of caffeine - which worked). But overall I have been going through a good bit less of it lately.

* And finally: I know he is moving out soon (er, being forced out by our landlord), but could my idiot neighbor please stop putting all his crap out by the side of the road for the trash and recycling people to just leave there!?!? It's bad enough he used to go through my recycling bin for cans, and the only reason he doesn't seem to do this anymore is because I have started putting it in a place where he is too lazy to look.

Ouch, did I just let all that pour out? Maybe I should smack him with one of my shinguards?

The Great Food Truck Thing

In case you missed it, Dan Rodricks had a whole episode last week on his Midday Show on WYPR on the whole food truck phenomenon. Among others, he talked to Heather Shouse, author of Food Trucks: Dispatches and Recipes from the Best Kitchens on Wheels. Shouse goes all over the country to examine local food trucks and the local adaptations to them. For example, Portland, Oregon, has a whole section of town devoted just to food trucks! Rodricks also interviewed several local food truck entrepreneurs, including the good people who bring us the food trucks from Gypsy Queen Café, Iced Gems Baking, Creperie Breizh, and Kooper's Chowhound, as well as the former owner of Juana Burrito who now runs the food truck consulting business Mobile Food Products. The food truck trend is starting to really rocket here, as it has in DC too - surprisingly since DC has such arcane laws that regulate food trucks in such a way that they may not park unless they have a queue of people waiting for them (I found this out a few weeks ago on the Kojo Nnamdi Show on WAMU). It's a trend I hope we see continue to flourish in Baltimore in the future.

Sabbatical Flashback 6: On "Julie & Julia" and the act of food blogging

My sabbatical is coming to an end, and I after my long break I'm looking forward to getting back into it. It's just felt so weird eating, cooking, baking, or reading about something food-related, and just relying on Twitter to relate my thoughts. It has made me a little more "zen" about having to relay absolutely everything I do and eat - in other words, I don't need to do that - but instead to focus on the things that really impress upon me the most.

To end the sabbatical, I wanted to repost a reflection I had a while back on the very nature of blogging. It's good to back and look again on why you do this in the first place, no?

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

On "Julie & Julia" and the act of food blogging

(originally posted Friday, August 14, 2009)

I went to see Nora Ephron's Julie & Julia this afternoon during a matinee. As many of you know, the film is adapted from Julie Powell's memoir of the same name and the book My Life in France by Child & Alex Prud'homme. It's a movie that shows the lives of the two women at seminal moments in their lives - Julia in 1949 and the decade after learning how to master the art of French cooking - and translating that for an American audience, Julie over a period of 12 months from 2002 to 2003 learning how to master the art of French cooking - and disseminating that experience in a new online format known as a "blog" (what's a "blog" anyway?).

Mrs. Child, with fish, taken by husband Paul

It's charming and much, much funnier than I expected it to be. It also has a few surprises, such as how utterly Meryl Streep transforms herself into Julia Child, and how Amy Adams only once reminded me of her Disney princess character from Enchanted, and how Powell's husband Eric worked for Archaeology Magazine (the issue blown up in the background in his office? I bought a copy of that issue).

Ms. Powell, with book, from 2005

The movie also made me hungry - not only that, but also made me want to get the damn cookbook and try this myself. I'm not going to do that, of course. It's already been done, and I don't have the time or money to do this anyway. But I will have to get a copy for my own cookbook library. That tattered little copy of The French Chef I found at the Book Thing doesn't stay open by itself anyway. At the very least, I want to make the boeuf bourgignon that partly inspired Powell to love food the way she does (did I interpret that correctly?), and that ended up getting Child's book published by Alfred Knopf in the first place. I might even try to debone a duck!

I don't have a whole lot else to say about the movie at this point. But I did take some time both before and afterwards to read Julie Powell's reflection on the movie itself, in a brief article she wrote for The Atlantic Monthly. She notes that the "Julie Powell" in the movie isn't exactly like the Julie Powell in real life. She's grateful - after all, how many people can say that their first book was made into a movie? All the same, she marvels at the self-awareness of it all. This passage from her article (no I haven't read her book) resonates with me the most:

I like to think I was more self-aware--just as narcissistic, maybe, but at least conscious of my narcissism and able to poke fun at it. In my experience--even if many contemporary bloggers might take issue with this--the blogging was, at least in part, an exercise in self-involvement. Cooking through Mastering changed my life on many levels. It made me a better cook and a more confident person.

I have to agree: I think the very act, er, art of blogging is a narcissistic act in and of itself. Why else would most of us be writing these blogs anyway? Certainly we wouldn't bother unless we just wanted to. Heaven knows there have been times I was just tired of doing this, and other times where I just had no time and literally had to scale back. But I always came back to it because I enjoyed it.

But then Powell turns it back around, and mentions some of the other things it gave her. To avoid quoting the whole piece, I'll specifically mention the "intoxication" she felt from reading her comments (including the deflation at her first-ever commenter being her mother). As she says in her article:

On the one hand, it gave me readers--passionate readers, involved readers, almost insanely devoted readers--who encouraged, cajoled, prodded, and harassed me into both completing the project and developing my voice as a writer.

Some of us have more commenters than others (I might have more if I was better at keeping up on reading more blogs!). But there's the rub: I know I don't just speak for myself, or just paraphrase Julie Powell even, when I say that writing this blog has also been an act of both narcissism and devotion to my readership. When I published my very first post in '06, I certainly didn't think I would have a book deal. Mind you, I still don't expect to, unless I give myself one through one of those self-publishing outfits.

A blog really is the end result of a desire to talk about yourself and what you enjoy. I would not have enjoyed writing about my crazy life - I'm too frazzled there as it is. But writing about food has focused me and given me sort of a place to stand out there and reveal myself. And yet, would I have ever finished that Beltway Snacking series had people not read it? (Still getting comments on that, by the way.) In a big way, I both did it and put so much detail into it for myself, but also for my readers. The comments were more than just gravy; they were the motivation to keep on doing it. To clarify, I don't mean the comments in and of themselves, but the interaction from readers sharing their own perspectives.

Powell also notes how the whole project is indeed a tribute to Julia Child, perhaps one of the main themes of the film (watch this hit home when she visits the Julia Child kitchen exhibit at the Smithsonian at the end of the film). For me, blogging is obviously not a tribute to anyone in particular - I haven't done anything particularly "gimmicky" except for that Beltway Snacking thing. But it's not fair to call it "gimmicky" and that sounds worse than it is. Nothing wrong with a gimmick - it's just a modus operandi.

The poster

Perhaps the fact that this post about Julie & Julia has turned into a post about this blog is the best testament to the fact that blogging is indeed a narcissistic venture. Well, thank you, Julie Powell, for motivating me to reflect on that. I dedicate this post to you.

On "Julie & Julia" and the act of food blogging

I went to see Nora Ephron's Julie & Julia this afternoon during a matinee. As many of you know, the film is adapted from Julie Powell's memoir of the same name and the book My Life in France by Child & Alex Prud'homme. It's a movie that shows the lives of the two women at seminal moments in their lives - Julia in 1949 and the decade after learning how to master the art of French cooking - and translating that for an American audience, Julie over a period of 12 months from 2002 to 2003 learning how to master the art of French cooking - and disseminating that experience in a new online format known as a "blog" (what's a "blog" anyway?).

Mrs. Child, with fish, taken by husband Paul

It's charming and much, much funnier than I expected it to be. It also has a few surprises, such as how utterly Meryl Streep transforms herself into Julia Child, and how Amy Adams only once reminded me of her Disney princess character from Enchanted, and how Powell's husband Eric worked for Archaeology Magazine (the issue blown up in the background in his office? I bought a copy of that issue).

Ms. Powell, with book, from 2005

The movie also made me hungry - not only that, but also made me want to get the damn cookbook and try this myself. I'm not going to do that, of course. It's already been done, and I don't have the time or money to do this anyway. But I will have to get a copy for my own cookbook library. That tattered little copy of The French Chef I found at the Book Thing doesn't stay open by itself anyway. At the very least, I want to make the boeuf bourgignon that partly inspired Powell to love food the way she does (did I interpret that correctly?), and that ended up getting Child's book published by Alfred Knopf in the first place. I might even try to debone a duck!

I don't have a whole lot else to say about the movie at this point. But I did take some time both before and afterwards to read Julie Powell's reflection on the movie itself, in a brief article she wrote for The Atlantic Monthly. She notes that the "Julie Powell" in the movie isn't exactly like the Julie Powell in real life. She's grateful - after all, how many people can say that their first book was made into a movie? All the same, she marvels at the self-awareness of it all. This passage from her article (no I haven't read her book) resonates with me the most:

I like to think I was more self-aware--just as narcissistic, maybe, but at least conscious of my narcissism and able to poke fun at it. In my experience--even if many contemporary bloggers might take issue with this--the blogging was, at least in part, an exercise in self-involvement. Cooking through Mastering changed my life on many levels. It made me a better cook and a more confident person.

I have to agree: I think the very act, er, art of blogging is a narcissistic act in and of itself. Why else would most of us be writing these blogs anyway? Certainly we wouldn't bother unless we just wanted to. Heaven knows there have been times I was just tired of doing this, and other times where I just had no time and literally had to scale back. But I always came back to it because I enjoyed it.

But then Powell turns it back around, and mentions some of the other things it gave her. To avoid quoting the whole piece, I'll specifically mention the "intoxication" she felt from reading her comments (including the deflation at her first-ever commenter being her mother). As she says in her article:

On the one hand, it gave me readers--passionate readers, involved readers, almost insanely devoted readers--who encouraged, cajoled, prodded, and harassed me into both completing the project and developing my voice as a writer.

Some of us have more commenters than others (I might have more if I was better at keeping up on reading more blogs!). But there's the rub: I know I don't just speak for myself, or just paraphrase Julie Powell even, when I say that writing this blog has also been an act of both narcissism and devotion to my readership. When I published my very first post in '06, I certainly didn't think I would have a book deal. Mind you, I still don't expect to, unless I give myself one through one of those self-publishing outfits.

A blog really is the end result of a desire to talk about yourself and what you enjoy. I would not have enjoyed writing about my crazy life - I'm too frazzled there as it is. But writing about food has focused me and given me sort of a place to stand out there and reveal myself. And yet, would I have ever finished that Beltway Snacking series had people not read it? (Still getting comments on that, by the way.) In a big way, I both did it and put so much detail into it for myself, but also for my readers. The comments were more than just gravy; they were the motivation to keep on doing it. To clarify, I don't mean the comments in and of themselves, but the interaction from readers sharing their own perspectives.

Powell also notes how the whole project is indeed a tribute to Julia Child, perhaps one of the main themes of the film (watch this hit home when she visits the Julia Child kitchen exhibit at the Smithsonian at the end of the film). For me, blogging is obviously not a tribute to anyone in particular - I haven't done anything particularly "gimmicky" except for that Beltway Snacking thing. But it's not fair to call it "gimmicky" and that sounds worse than it is. Nothing wrong with a gimmick - it's just a modus operandi.

The poster

Perhaps the fact that this post about Julie & Julia has turned into a post about this blog is the best testament to the fact that blogging is indeed a narcissistic venture. Well, thank you, Julie Powell, for motivating me to reflect on that. I dedicate this post to you.

A few things I've noticed this week

Just a few thoughts about stuff I've noticed lately, but have simply had no time to post about:

1. On a friend's recommendation, I dragged Eric & Alan to Marie Louise Bistro, in the location that was formerly Gampy's.

The place looks nice and the service is friendly. But how we felt about it was mixed. Alan and I loved our French onion soups, and Alan seemed to be satisfied with his bouillabaisse, even though the kitchen had run out of one ingredient and had to substitute extra mussels for it. I enjoyed my rockfish in lavender sauce on a bed of caramelized Israeli couscous, but for a special dish of the night, I guess I expected more. It was satisfying but it didn't "wow" me.

Eric, on the other hand, was wow'd, but in a bad way. While I don't remember his reaction to his salad, he was pretty annoyed about his steak - something he doesn't eat often. He asked for it to be nice and medium rare. It comes out very well done. Granted, the waiter offered to bring it back, but Eric didn't take him up on it. It didn't taste bad, but he was still irritated that something as simple as the rareness of the food was messed up. Long story short: for a restaurant that's been open for a few months now, it should be working these sorts of kinks out faster. Especially in an economy such as this where you don't want to give potential patrons a reason not to come back.

2. The Amish have imposed a limit of two per household?

Um, Amish women actually wouldn't be doing stuff like this.
Come to think of it, neither would Amish men.

I kind of doubt the Amish really give a shit what we English heat our homes with out here in the freezing cold Devil's Playground. That idiotic ad, pictured above, caused three words to pop up in my head: "Amish slave labor." It's a scam, people. Please don't buy this.

And if anyone has one for me to try, the answer is no.

3. Man, I never realized how much I like Brussel sprouts. But I do! It's all in how you cook 'em.

4. Guess what's coming up soon? I don't think I can afford it this year, money or time wise. But if I can, it'll probably just be once.

5. Try to avoid peanut butter for a while - at least the kind you don't buy in the supermarket.

Classic Cooking Shows on "the YouTube"

It's too bad the Food Network is too busy junking up the airwaves with The Next Iron Chef and all these silly Road Tasted shows. They really should go back to the classics: Galloping Gourmet, Frugal Gourmet, and of course, the woman who started it all. Y'all know who I'm talking about, and it ain't Sandra Lee.

Crème Brûlée in Beer Form

Look what I found on my last trip to the Wine Source: Imperial Crème Brûlée Stout from the Southern Tier Brewing Company in Lakewood, NY. The guys at Wine Source swore that it tastes just like crème brûlée. To me, it tastes almost like it, but that's pretty close. It's a typically bitter stout with a fascinating sweet, rich, burnt sugar finish that is heavy on the vanilla flavor. That would probably be due to its being brewed with vanilla beans.

If you drink it with crème brûlée, as I did, then you'll notice the difference between two most clearly. Better instead to drink it with something else. Or just accept that it's not exactly the same and consume them together anyway. Either way, you can only get it in a 650 mL / 1 pt. 6 fl. oz. bottle, which goes for $9. So pony up the cash and use a wine stopper to cap the rest for later.

Creme Brulée Update

That title is not something you read every day, is it?

Just an update on my creme brulée nightmare: I went to Home Depot and coughed up $13 plus tax for a propane torch kit. Never used one before and I was a little freaked out about using it in the apartment but I just lit it on the porch - with a butane pilot lighter - and went to town on a Trader Joe's Raspberry Creme Brulée.

BTW: Kitt from Denver, you were right: the propane torch kit worked wonders. And I even found a more or less safe place to store it outside. Minx: you were right about the ramekins from TJ's - for just $5 not only do you get two 4 oz brown glazed ceramic ramekins but you also get the creme brulée that comes in them. It might work out to a little more, a little less than buying empty white ramekins at Linens & Things or Bed, Bath & Beyond, but it's worth it. Plus it makes you feel resourceful.

Don't buy this.

Bed, Bath and Beyond's Creme Brulée Torch Set, which I "scored" for $20, has been giving me a royal headache since I bought the damn thing. Let me count the ways:

1. Four 3-oz ramekins. This is a problem because:
1. That's a pretty irregular size to replace when you break one, and
2. BBB doesn't sell individual 3-oz ramekins. No one does - not Williams Sonoma (and they'd charge four times as much as BBB would), not any grocery store upscale or otherwise. I'll need to go to a restaurant supply warehouse to look some more. This is especially irritating because...
   
2. ...the recipe that comes with the kit requires six 3-oz ramekins, or else it will overflow into the bain marie that you bake the custard in. I found this out the hard way, when I wasted at least two ramekin's worth of pre-baked liquid creme brulée by trying to get it to all fit in the ramekins and finding, instead, that it won't. Sure makes a nice creme brulée soup out of that bain marie.
   
3. The sorest spot of them all: the torch. It is a cheap torch. I did indeed follow the directions exactly, noting when it sputtered, when it gave off no sound of gas at all, and when it worked perfectly. I got it working for one round of cremes brulées. For the second round, I pretty much just settled for custard with sugar on top.

Maybe I should have known better than to trust a cheap-o creme brulée kit. But still, it's $20 I don't have. A very low-end professional torch alone costs almost twice as much (again, at BBB). Mind you, this does not call for a BBB boycott (a BBBB?), just a boycott of this product. There's a similar product next to it which is probably as worthless. Don't buy that one either.

Exit 23B: MD-25 (Falls Road)

I made my most recent beltway stop before I hit New York the week before last. I just have not had the time to write about it! In retrospect, there was a lot I still need to see off of the Falls Road exit off the beltway. This stop takes you to Greenspring Station. I think it really does hold true: one never truly gets to know his hometown until he leaves it. In the few years I lived in California, I would explore things when I came back to visit that I never had even heard of. Then I moved back, and went right back into "Eh, I'll get around to seeing it sometime" mode. Had it not been for this weblog, I still would be stuck in that mode. It's really forced me to explore this city and state in ways I did only on occasion.

I say that because I had no idea that Greenspring Station even existed. And why would I? I never get up to that part of Falls Road. Sure I understand it's kind of new, but still, no clue over here. It's one of those upper-middle-class sort of places where it's not quite easy to find something affordable to eat. I was about ready to smack this one guy I passed by - he was telling someone, a security guard I think, how he usually takes a limo from the airport or something. Something that caught me off guard, as a wee bit pretentious.

Likewise, my first impression of Greenspring Station - after that it was there in the first place (!) - was that it was a little expensive. It's a fun little place for shopping, tailoring (women only), eating, even going to the doctor. Just expect to lay down some moolah. I set out to not lay down too much. My target lunch: $10 or less.

It's strange, but as nice a place as this is, one would think they'd have a web site or something. No. The powers-that-be didn't seem to have that kind of foresight. So I won't be able to give a play-by-play of all the places I saw. I just don't remember them all. That's all the more reason for y'all to go see it for yourselves. But a few of the ones that I do remember include:

• a little liquor - er, wine - store-slash-deli that I didn't get to. It's a place to keep in mind for later.
• likewise, a little specialty store that sells specialty nuts and things. Again, check it out later.
• a new steak house opening up in Greenspring Station. Because doofus forgot to take a photo of it, I can't remember its name either.

I did stop in the Stone Mill Bakery (map) to see what they had to offer. Cozy yet not cramped or even that small, Stone Mill is divided up into two sections, a smaller, comfier "ready-to-eat" side and a larger, brighter bakery and deli counter side. Each side, however, serves all the same menu items. I thought I'd step up and order something, and looked at the menu. I had no idea that a Reuben could cost $10.50. In fact, most of the dishes - okay, all of the dishes - were a little pricier than I was looking for. It looks like a nice place to eat, but it will have to wait.

I next found the Poulet Gourmet Catering and Restaurant (map). I thought it was a chain - it's a small one - but I'd never been in so I took this opportunity. Wow, it does have lots of different things in it. It's like a rotisserie/combination pit beef/"ready-to-eat" sandwich shop/Boston Market gone Cajun/creperie/ice cream parlor. In fact, the City Paper calls Poulet's ice cream the best in the city for 2005 (eat that, Cold Stone).

With so many choices, Mr. Indecisive was in trouble. What to get? Out of all the things I saw, their wall of sweet and savory crepes looked particularly interesting. Each is named after a different local Catholic or other private high school - there's the Notre Dame, the Gilman, the Loyola (Dons, not Greyhounds), the Boys' Latin, etc. The Loyola particularly caught my eye, because its description basically reveals a "Reuben crepe": corned beef, Swiss cheese, Russian dressing and cole slaw all melted together into a delicious savory crepe ($7). So I ordered that, along with a large homemade chocolate truffle ($1). I ate the truffle in the car, which was a mistake - chocolate truffles should be eaten at room temperature, not fresh out of the fridge.

The Reuben crepe was probably better in conception than execution. For one, it was kind of messy, with Russian dressing all streaming out. This is not a crepe you can pick up. Not that I was going to, but try it and you will get covered in Russian dressing (you have been warned). It was also pretty difficult to cut apart. I blame this not so much on the knife as on the brand of corned beef. It was plasticky in its texture, difficult to chew or even cut, and not terribly exciting in its flavor. Note to Poulet: choose a new brand of corned beef. This one is not very good. The Loyola crepe also doesn't hold up too well on reheating, becoming even more of a big, Russian dressing-soaked mess after a few days in the fridge. I might try this on my own, if I could only make crepes very well at all (note to self: invest in a crepe maker - and a food processor, because you need a new one). I would definitely go back to Poulet, as there is just too much there to not try. But if you're looking for gourmet crepes, steer clear of Loyola.

Places I visited:

Poulet (rotisserie / deli / crepes / ice cream / catering) - 2436 W. Joppa Road (Green Spring Station), Lutherville, MD 21093; Phone: (410) 339-3900

• Would I eat there again? Yes
• Would I go out of my way to eat there again? Sure, at least to try some of the other stuff

Places to look up later:

Stone Mill Bakery (bakery / deli / cafe) - 10751 Falls Rd (Green Spring Station), Lutherville, MD 21093; Phone: (410) 821-1358

Brasserie Tatin (Baltimore Restaurant Week)

Tonight is the last night I am eating out for a good while. Truly. I need desperately to start saving some real money for Amsterdam at the end of next month. So no more eating out for a while. Probably the occasional slice of pizza or something, but no more.

So at least I made the last meal out for a while a good one. I went to Brasserie Tatin with a friend for the tail end of Restaurant Week. I wasn't planning to watch the Super Bowl anyway. I rarely do. I'm not the biggest football fan, though my interest creeps up when the Ravens are having a good season. Besides, we all knew how it would turn out, right? (Quite a shock, no?)

Just to let you know: Brasserie Tatin is extending Restaurant Week for another week, and has a special Valentine's Day deal after that. We got there right at 5, when our reservations were scheduled. And they were getting ready for the dinner rush at the time. I really didn't expect so many people to show up on Super Bowl Sunday, but it was crowded. If you can get there sometime this week like the rest of us did, you'll find delicious stuff like this:

• Escargots under a pastry shell, swimming in a peppery garlic butter sauce (that is, Snails under a Hat). I don't eat many snails. These were juicy, hot and very hearty. The sauce they swam in, and the "hat" they hid under, were a delicious and delicate complement. Eric got the scallops in bourbon cream sauce, which I tried. Tasty, but I liked my dish better.
• Grilled salmon on a carrot butternut squash purée (I thought it was sweet potato at first), and a Harissa broth. The olive and lemon confit on top was a nice addition, but the salmon and squash was great with or without it. The duck that Eric got was, again, tasty, but I again preferred the salmon.
• Marjolaine, a deceptively small slice of hazelnut and chocolate cake that belies its richness and thickness. I thought it was pretty puny in comparison to the Tarte Tatin that Eric got (very good, I might add), but it soon became obvious that any bigger a slice would be way too much to handle. Blissful.

Eric wanted wine, which he covered (I only had half a glass anyway) - a San Luis Obispo County pinot noir for $40. This brought up the total to $100 for the two of us, with mine costing $30, his $30 plus the wine. What a fabulous place to eat. Go there if you can.

Postcards from New York 2: Brasserie 8 1/2

NEWLY UPDATED, WITH PHOTOS!

First I have to get this out of the way: Sunday in the Park with George was simply amazing. I have never seen anything on opening night before, especially for just $35. Computers are a big part of the show - it is technologically fabulous. All the scenery and even An Afternoon on the Island of la Grand Jatte, on which the musical is based, change and appear and reappear to fit the action. Everything else was wonderful about it, too. Get up to NY and see it if you can before it closes in April (limited engagement). It's playing at Studio 54.

Before that I headed to Brasserie 8 1/2. This was the closest restaurant that had a New York Restaurant Week special that looked interesting to me. When I got there, braving the ridiculous cold, I immediately felt underdressed (unlike the super-casual Oya in Washington). It was big and round and shiny and a mix of off-white and dark orange, a beautiful and simple design.

I thought I was running late, but apparently I wasn't. And when I got down the long spirally staircase (I did take photos - they're not good. I'll upload them later) I noticed I wasn't the only casually dressed customer. In fact, I looked pretty formal compared to some folks. They were almost ready to seat people for dinner, so I got a drink. I had not a clue what to get; this guy with a strong local accent recommended his drink. I'm not sure what it was, maybe vodka with some cranberry in it. I do know that, at first anyway, it was strong. And then the bartender said in her perky way: "That will be fourteen dollars." After I popped my buggy eyes back in my head, I paid for it. $14! That will get your four "recession specials" at Gray's Papaya (that is, eight hot dogs and 56 ounces of the drink of your choice).

Well there goes any chance of a cheap Restaurant Week meal. At least I didn't order anything else besides dinner, which was $35 (it's a little more up here):

• The first of three courses was a simple, strong lobster consommé, with lobster-scallion dumplings. Both were tasty, but the consommé was even better with this thick potato bisque in one of those small, tall shot glasses that they like like to serve "tasting menu" soup in on Top Chef. They brougnt it out just before the soup, and for a minute I thought this was the soup. I was a little confused why they brought me such a large soup spoon - what, pour the soup into it? The potato tasted best when you poured it into the consommé.

• For the second course, I got this herb crusted skate. Between the two layers of fish was a hearty layer of orange and green lentils, and a salsa on the side of pineapple, caper and brown butter. Plus, I think there were little hoisin sauce dots on the opposite side. Again, everything was scrumptious, although the skate directly underneath the lentils had an oddly mushy texture - not raw, not flaky, not overcooked, just mushy. It didn't really detract from the dish, but it was strange.

• The final course was a filling gingerbread pudding. I imagined a mousse of some sort and failed to realize this would actually be a gingerbread bread pudding (gingerbread, get it?). Again, it was a wonderful and pretty dish, with this zig-zaggedy, thin gingerbread cookie in front of the pudding, zig-zags of caramel on the plate and over the pudding, There was a small brick of something on top. I'm not sure what it was exactly, but it was buttery and almost like a very subtle butterscotch pudding. Plus, there were raisins and small chunks of pineapple all through it. A satisfying end to my meal.

With tax and tip I paid about $45. I paid for that pricey cocktail earlier so it wasn't included in my bill. It was a charming though big restaurant. I'd go back if there weren't so many restaurants in New York, and if I had the money to come up here more often.

The sleek and beautiful Brasserie 8 1/2 cocktail lounge, taken from right next door at my table in the dining area

Oya (Washington Restaurant Week)

I finally caught up with my Washington Restaurant Week excursion, and as I said earlier I had to visit a place that carried the deal out through January. That place was Oya. This was such a fabulous restaurant, and I think i am going to visit this place again soon. It's certainly better than the sh*t they pass off as "food" in the overpriced cafés at the Museum of Natural History (mind you, the Mitsitam Café in the Museum of the American Indian is tasty enough for museum food, if grossly overpriced). The eating is the one and only thing to avoid at the NMNH.

I got to DC from College Park (NB: DC Metro parking is free on federal holidays - remember that on the next Martin Luther King Birthday!). Taking the Green Line in from College Park got me to the Archives, actually quite close to where I needed to be (eight blocks of walking is nothing for me, even in 10 degree weather). So I stopped in the National Gallery of Art (West Wing), where I lost my Ravens hat (stupid Ravens), meandered past a little Korean woman selling winter hats, and then through the Sculpture Garden. After a brief detour through the Natural History Museum I made it up 9th Street. This took me right past the American Art Museum, which I have never visited (damn stupid Ravens).

I got to Oya about 15 minutes early for my reservation. That was alright. In fact, I didn't even need a reservation, as the place was not full up at all.

A note about the décor here: it's gorgeous, all white marble and clean cut lines mixed in with shimmering columns of shiny circles of things, waterfalls and one of the nicer restrooms I have seen in a DC eating establishment (the toilet is not a stall at all, but a totally enclosed little room). I loved the service about as much as the scenery. As busy as the servers were, they constantly were stopping by to ask how things were. They seemed like they didn't know how to respond when I said "Thank you" whenever they refilled my water. Am I not supposed to do this?

As for the food: even though their Restaurant Week lunch prices end this month, you can still construct a $20 lunch here (minus drinks). Their Hako Executive Lunch features various types of sushi and sashimi, plus your choice of shrimp tempura, spicy crunchy salmon or the tuna tempura roll, and a mini banana bread pudding - all for $20 (literally 8 cents cheaper than the Restaurant Week menu, but one can find that in one's couch).

For my Restaurant Week experience, here's what I got:

• For my first course, the same tuna tempura roll. I ordered it, went to the restroom and five minutes later it was waiting for me when I came back. It was a nori-wrapped roll covered in a tempura batter, so wonderfully crunchy on the outside with slightly cooked tuna inside the rice. It came with a seven pepper sauce and was sprinkled with scallions. I liked this roll.

• For the main course, I ordered the tilapia, which came on a bed of intensely buttery and almost caramelly soft potato rösti, haricot verts (mmmm, green beans) and all covered in a red wine and shallot vinaigrette. I loved the mellow and none-too-fishy tilapia, which came in two medallion portions one on top of the other, but the potato was still my favorite part of this course. Did I mention that the food was actually hot?

• The last course was the dessert, a banana bread pudding with little shavings of coconut inside (you can ask for it without), rum raisin ice cream, and banana quarters topped with a caramelized sugar coating. The bread pudding was nice and warm, and very rich.
  

Along with this, I ordered a limeade (about $4) with lunch and an espresso (around $5) with dessert. I originally passed up the espresso but I got up early and was already yawning by midday, and not for lack of stimuli. After tax and tip the grand total came to $35. I walked out thinking "Some Restaurant Week savings" but nobody strong-armed me into ordering those drinks - I could've been just fine with tap water. Still it was a lot cheaper than it would have been had I ordered the same things a la carte (the tuna tempura roll alone costs $12; add the tilapia for $14 and bread pudding for $10 and you're out 36 bucks, well before you get thirsty).

So I have a reason to wander far beyond the Mall and Adams Morgan for a good meal. Mind you, there is many a good meal to be had in Adams Morgan (not so much on the Mall). But next time I'm in town I need to wander back to Oya. Then again, there was that Spy Museum that had those tasty sounding hot dogs...

BTW: I will have the rest of my DC photos up on Flickr soon enough. I've got some photos of the Air & Space Museum, Natural History and National Gallery of Art, as well as some candid photos around town and what little is on display from the closed-for-renovations American History Museum. All that's coming soon.

Other photos of Oya:

The moment of truth has arrived. I am about to enter, but I just want to get one little photo before I do that.

A little blurry, but at least it shows you what's there. The reception area is through that opening.

Have I really become that weird guy that takes photos of empty bathrooms? (At least I wait until it's empty.) Nice and clean - a truly not-gross experience. Maybe I should put bamboo in my own bathroom?

The restaurant was actually quite bright, so it looks much darker than it could possibly ever have been at 1 in the afternoon. Still, I like the picture.

I really did like Oya. I will have to go ba... wait, what's this place?

DC Restaurant Week? It'll have to wait...

Sad to report that I didn't make it down to Washington today - family emergency, and of course family is much more important than some restaurant. So I'm not able to try Butterfield 9 until the next Food Week. Instead, I'm perusing the list on the DC Foodies' website that shows more than a few restaurants are extending the Winter Restaurant Week thing through the end of January. Unfortunately, B9 isn't one of them, so next week I'll just go to one of the others. I've narrowed it down to

• Oya , a chi-chi Mediterranean in Downtown (DCRW prices until January 31), and
  
• Farrah Olivia in Alexandria (dinner offered the same dates as Oya, though the $20.08 prix fixe lunch is available for the entire year).
  

BTW: Farrah Olivia is the restaurant run by Ivorian former Next Iron Chef also-ran Morou Outtara, who combines American, African (specifically West African) and French cuisines. I've been drooling to try chef Outtara's foods. But since Farrah Olivia offers its prix fixe lunch year round, I think I'll go to Oya, which does not.

As for y'all, try to make it down there this week if you can. If not, there are other options.

Julia Child's Cheese Quiche, Almost

I have tackled the master, and the master has won.

At least at first.

A week or so ago I scored this great used copy of Julia Child's French Chef Cookbook. It was a lesser-known edition but the same recipes. I didn't have a Julia Child cookbook, so this was a nice edition to my library. Child, of course, needs no introduction. Born and raised in Pasadena - California, not Maryland, of course - and introduced to French cuisine by her husband, she eventually mastered French cookin', popularizing French cuisine and fine dining in mainstream America. She also was a pioneer in instructional cooking television. She is, of course, the Goddess. How many chefs could say their entire kitchen was transported and replicated in the National Museum of American History? In the Smithsonian for Heaven's sake? Bobby Flay brags about many things, but I doubt he will ever brag about that one. Same for Rachael Ray or Paula Deen or Anthony Bourdain. I'm going on a ridiculous tangent so I'll just go on.

We should demand a Food Network Classic for Julia Child. Her, Jeff Smith and the Galloping Gourmet. Anyway...

I had some eggs burning a hole in my fridge (strange picture in my mind), and a bag of mozzarella ready to turn. I needed to use them. So I found a few quiche recipes in the cookbook and settled on her quiche au fromage (Cheese Quiche, p. 257 in this edition - but aw hell, there are so many editions you should just look it up in the index). My first thought was: aren't all quiches "cheese quiches"? But maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.


As always I cannot reprint the recipe. Just know that I needed to layer the bottom with 2/3 of a cup of Swiss. Only problem: no Swiss in my fridge! But like I said, I had that mozzarella to get rid of, so I used that. Then I needed to mix egg, nutmeg, salt, pepper and milk. Whoa, hold on. I have no milk either. Yes, that's right, no milk. I did have some buttermilk to use up though. After mixing in the buttermilk, I poured it all into the pie shell, sprinkled on the rest of the cheese and dots of butter (my arteries are hardening already) and, just for some pizazz, a chopped-up shallot. Next I bake it for 30 minutes at 375 degrees.

I occasionally do some dumb things, and after half an hour the quiche was about half-baked. Perhaps the buttermilk meant that I needed to cook it longer. Perhaps - I had to bake it almost twice as long to get it to resemble anything more than runny scrambled eggs.



After a night in the fridge it felt and looked much more like a real quiche. This is probably much closer to what Julia Child had in mind in the first place. And it tastes lovely. So next time I will adjust the cooking time if I use buttermilk. Though I'm curious to see what it'll be like if I actually follow the directions, which I'll do next time. Never mess with the master, at least not the first time around.



Source:

Child, Julia. The French Chef Cookbook (1971, 1968: Bantam Books, New York, NY)

Eight Wannabe Iron Chefs and a Gourmet Next Door Walk Into a Bar...

I caught the last ten minutes of Amy "Winner of Next Food Network Star #3" Finley's series premiere today. Yes, I have only seen 1/3 of her show Gourmet Next Door, and yes, she's just starting out. But I hate to admit: it was kinda dull. Maybe I wouldn't be able to do any better. But I found myself reaching over to my Playstation 2 (which doubles as my DVD player) and finishing up an ep of Six Feet Under. Have you seen this 6FU? I just discovered it. Very cool show. As for GND: hopefully it'll find its groove. 'Cuz it ain't found it yet.

As for right now, I'm trying to get through the Next Iron Chef. Not a bad show, but (as Dan pointed this out a little while ago) Alton is getting a bit irritating. He seems so, well, bitchy. That's the best way I can describe him. Bitchy and bullying. As for the contestants: nobody jumps out as sensational yet. But Chef Morou Outtara would be a nice addition. This guy, an Ivorian-American who now calls Bowie of all places home, mixes the spices and flavors of West Africa (a culinary region we just never hear about on Food TV) with techniques and flavors of France and the US. To be honest, with the region's burgeoning West African immigrant population I am not sure why we don't see more African restaurants in the US. I would love to see some Nigerian restaurants outside of DC! There is, at least, the Tam Tam Restaurant, this Senegalese place near the Senator that I've been meaning to try. But apart from that there's nothing I can think of in the Baltimore area.

So I may stick with Next Iron Chef. But even if I lose my interest in this program, at least I can check out the Amateur Gourmet's high-larious NIC blog at the Food Network website. While the show is on, I'll put it on my blogroll at least.

Anniversary Trip: Tapas Teatro

My very first restaurant review was for the hip and always-crowded Tapas Teatro, next to the Charles Theatre. During that review, I raved about tempura veggies:

A little bit about these veggies: the chefs take onions, eggplant and asparagus and fry it in what seems like a tempura-like batter. The chefs at Tapas Teatro then serve it up hot with a spicy, smooth mango-jalapeño salsa (actually, it's more like a jelly), with pieces of red pepper on the sides. The presentation on a square white plate is also gorgeous.

I'm gettin' all sweaty just thinkin' about it.

Since then I've been a few times, but I haven't been lately. So I decided to go this past weekend. There were some seats outside, but even more people waiting to be seated, so I figured I wasn't going to sit outside. I eventually ponied up to the bar and looked at the menu.

Maybe it's been a while, but some of the prices seem to have risen since the last time I went! Only by about a dollar or two, but it caught me by surprise. So I ordered the requisite Guinness (about $4) and decided on a meal. I got a little more than I usually do:

• lamb albóndigas (meatballs) in a tangy tomato sauce with cilantro (about $8)
  
• dried tomato on hearty bread slices, with a little tomato sauce underneath (about $4)
  

These were good tapas, with the beer coming to about $17 after tax. I left $20 and headed out for the next part of my night. I didn't go far. In fact, I went to the other side of the Charles. Sofi's Crepes offers crepes - just crepes, dinner crepes, dessert crepes, fancy veggie, cheese and meat crepes and simple crepes with butterscotch or chocolate. And they always serve them up hot. The best part is that you can create your own. Instead I took a pre-existing one and added to it. I wanted dessert and I wanted cheap. So I went for the simplest and cheapest dessert crepe I could find, their homemade butterscotch crepe. The kicker is that it's the butterscotch that's homemade. To this decadent crepe I added nutella for an extra buck. Total cost: $5, for a hot, steaming, fattening, wonderful crepe. I also got an iced tea. It wasn't remarkable - just your standard iced tea. I doubt people go to Sofi's for the tea anyway.

All in all, I'd say this was an extremely satisfying anniversary meal. I don't know why I had never gone into Sofi's Crepes after the Charles. Glad I did this time.