GourmandeMomtag:typepad.com,2003:weblog-834481191648355962012-04-27T20:43:17-05:00Musings on the frustrating but amusing gap between the food life I wish I had, and try to obtain and sometimes get when I least expect it, and the one I lead every day as a single working mom. TypePadhttp://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/04/tio-pepe-my-new-friendafter-a-wrong-turn-into-another-good-paris-wine-bar-pre-verjus.htmlTio Pepe, my new friend...after a wrong turn into another good Paris wine bar pre-Verjustag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ead2df99970c2012-04-27T20:43:17-05:002012-04-27T20:43:17-05:00<font color="#616469" face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif" >Mid-week into the April 2012 Paris trip with the Ridgelea girlfriends ("les filles") was the long-awaited dinner reservation at Verjus. I made the reservation weeks before, after reading much hype and enjoying the story of this adorable chef couple's journey, and much in awe of their calm yet fun attitude in opening a new restaurant in a charming nook of Paris near the iconic Palais Royal. The power culinary couple are the heart and soul of what was Hidden Kitchen, one of Paris's bestest secret supper clubs, where I never was able to score a seat but enjoyed just reading about the experience of everyone else who had and then wrote about it. The dinner would top off a great day: a morning run along the Right Bank, under the surprise of clear blue skies in Paris that day, running down along the Seine, up stairs and down, listening to Morrocan lounge music on the iPhone. I had never run in Paris before - I had never been mid-triathlon training for a Paris trip before - but train I had to during that trip. It was exhilarating. And maybe I even started to like running. The good run was followed by a lunch in Montparnasse with a Paris-based consultant, about some Austin-related matters, and I learned that Sancerre came in a red, and that this one went really well with really well-prepared duck. By the time I finally got around to looking for Verjus in the late afternoon, early evening - said to be at 52, rue de Richelieu, Passage Beaujolais, I was starving. Brain function started to fail. I meandered. I took Hipstamatic pics galore of many angles and shadows and lovely corners I had never explored around the galleries in and around the Palais Royal. I tried not...</font>
<div style="clear:both;padding-top:1em;"><a title="Share with AddToAny" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/26/30033457/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/addtoany.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Tweet This" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/24/30033457/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/twitter.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by email" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/19/30033457/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/emailsubscribe.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by RSS" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/20/30033457/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/rss.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="View Comments" href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/04/tio-pepe-my-new-friendafter-a-wrong-turn-into-another-good-paris-wine-bar-pre-verjus.html"><img height="20" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/comments.png"></a> </div>GourmandeMom<font color="#616469" face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif" ><Img align="left" border="0" height="1" width="1" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0;padding:0" hspace="0" src="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/i/30033457/0/twelve"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>Mid-week into the April 2012 Paris trip with the Ridgelea girlfriends ("les filles") was the long-awaited dinner reservation at <strong><a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://verjusparis.com/" target="_blank">Verjus</a></strong>.   I made the reservation weeks before, after reading much hype and enjoying the <a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.thepariskitchen.com/2011/09/the-hidden-kitchen-to-open-wine-bar-restaurant-verjus/" target="_blank">story </a>of this adorable chef couple's journey, and much in awe of their calm yet fun attitude in opening a new restaurant in a charming nook of Paris near the iconic Palais Royal.  The power culinary couple are the heart and soul of what was Hidden Kitchen, one of Paris's bestest secret supper clubs, where I never was able to score a seat but enjoyed just reading about the experience of <a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://hipparis.com/2010/05/17/dinner-in-paris-at-hidden-kitchen-wdavid-lebovitz-meg-zimbeck/" target="_blank">everyone else who had and then wrote about it</a>.  </p>
<p>The dinner would top off a great day:  a morning run along the Right Bank, under the surprise of clear blue skies in Paris that day, running down along the Seine, up stairs and down, listening to Morrocan lounge music on the iPhone.   I had never run in Paris before - I had never been mid-triathlon training for a Paris trip before - but train I had to during that trip.  It was exhilarating.  And maybe I even started to like running.  </p>
<p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b016765d0a54e970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="All else 259" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a0120a89a75e8970b016765d0a54e970b image-full" src="http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b016765d0a54e970b-800wi" title="All else 259" /></a></p>
<p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ead32c1d970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="All else 275" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ead32c1d970c image-full" src="http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ead32c1d970c-800wi" title="All else 275" /></a></p>
<p>The good run was followed by a lunch in Montparnasse with a Paris-based consultant, about some Austin-related matters, and I learned that Sancerre came in a red, and that this one went really well with really well-prepared duck. </p>
<p>By the time I finally got around to looking for Verjus in the late afternoon, early evening - said to be at 52, rue de Richelieu, Passage Beaujolais, I was starving.  Brain function started to fail.  I meandered.  I took Hipstamatic pics galore of many angles and shadows and lovely corners I had never explored around the galleries in and around the Palais Royal.  I tried not to get too annoyed that I was just not getting where this place was.  </p>
<p>Victory, finally.  I walk in early to modify the reservation.   We would be two, not four.  But now, where to kill time before the (still early) 8:00 pm reservation?  Where to have the now ritual aperitif for my Paris days?  </p>
<p>I was not clued in to the fact that the Verjus wine bar so acclaimed was just downstairs, but just as well.  My failed navigational skills meant I walked into another wine bar, one across the street.  It was <a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://winesleuth.wordpress.com/2012/02/28/a-long-lunch-at-juveniles-wine-bar-paris/" target="_blank" title="great pics here of the place">Juveniles</a>.  And, as blind luck would have it, it was <a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.wineterroirs.com/2010/02/juveniles.html" target="_blank">one of the earliest wine bars in Paris</a>.  A Spanish tapas theme.  And a Scottish owner. </p>
<p>What to eat, what to drink: I was just so happy to be seated there with my back up against a wall packed tight with wine bottles.  I settle in my chair at the cheery red table and ponder the aperitif options.  Nothing hits me just right.  I ask the very, <em><strong>very </strong></em>young man who takes my order what he thinks about this: I would like an aperitif, but what might work here for me of these options?  He smiles, says to wait a minute: he may have just the thing.  He thinks I'll like it. </p>
<p>It is a crisp, cold white wine, but not quite.  It is Tio Pepe.   Back home Melissa laughs out loud when I tell her about this fantastic new drink, a great new aperitif.  She says this is classic, old-school Spanish sherry.  For me it was new and exotic, and right then, at that place, it was perfect.  </p>
<p>Perfection also came in the snack that seemed about right if you're in a Paris wine bar, Spanish-themed tapas bar, owned by a Scot, about to have an exquisite dinner by an American couple focused market-fresh food prepared delicately with exquisite wine pairings.....A plate of sliced, grilled chorizo.  And a side of crispy crusted rustic bread to sop up the residual juices, ok, grease, from the chorizo.  </p>
<p>Tio Pepe will definitely now be a fixture in my house:  a new, important player in the aperitif line-up.    Just may not be able to include grilled chorizo as part of the everyday line-up.   </p>
<p>And, yes, after that I did manage to enjoy, no, relish and thoroughly enjoy, including an additional cheese course, a lovely tasting menu and meal experience at Verjus.   Yet I wonder why despite the walking, walking, climbing and running, I gain about 5 pounds every Paris trip. </p>
<p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ead3650e970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="All else 323" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ead3650e970c image-full" src="http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ead3650e970c-800wi" title="All else 323" /></a></p></div>
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<div style="clear:both;padding-top:1em;"><a title="Share with AddToAny" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/26/30033457/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/addtoany.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Tweet This" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/24/30033457/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/twitter.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by email" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/19/30033457/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/emailsubscribe.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by RSS" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/20/30033457/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/rss.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="View Comments" href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/04/tio-pepe-my-new-friendafter-a-wrong-turn-into-another-good-paris-wine-bar-pre-verjus.html"><img height="20" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/comments.png"></a> </div>http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/04/the-mother-of-all-breakfasts-arrival-morning-breakfast-in-paris.htmlThe Mother of All Breakfasts: Arrival Morning Breakfast in Paris...Salted Caramel, Pine Tree Honey, Butter, Prosciutto....tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a0120a89a75e8970b0163049a96c7970d2012-04-23T11:51:35-05:002012-04-23T11:51:35-05:00<font color="#616469" face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif" >We had already managed the first issue of the trip, a transportation issue: getting Shelly a spot on the shuttle with us into Paris that first morning of arrival. Then it occurred to us as we got closer to Paris that we had another issue to address in our sleep deprived state. We were really, really hungry. I had not thought through this one. We wondered: Would breakfast be available at our "bed and breakfast" accommodations? Too late to ask for it? Where would we go on Easter morning to get our Paris breakfast on, when much of Paris was closed, or so we understood? Not five minutes after we arrived at the destination and entered through the enormous deep rich blue enamel doors of our lodging into the "music room," our host Anne asked the million dollar question: "Are you hungry? Can I get you something to eat? Coffee, tea? I can set out some bread, some cheese, some ham....would you like that?" I think we stumbled over ourselves in the rush of words spewing forth from each of the four of us indicating yes, yes, and yes please and thank you and oh, yes. Please. In this one meal, everything that is right and good about France was laid out for my friends. As a self-appointed cultural ambassador for Paris, and French culture in general, I like making sure people have as nice a time as possible when they go to France such that they get a glimpse into the culture I know and love. All of this was taken care of pretty much in that one feast. The elements: 1. Bread: Eric Kayser. Enough said. I discovered Eric Kayser bread a couple of years ago, on a Context Travel food tour with Barbra Austin, who then went...</font>
<div style="clear:both;padding-top:1em;"><a title="Share with AddToAny" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/26/29984553/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/addtoany.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Tweet This" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/24/29984553/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/twitter.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by email" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/19/29984553/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/emailsubscribe.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by RSS" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/20/29984553/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/rss.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="View Comments" href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/04/the-mother-of-all-breakfasts-arrival-morning-breakfast-in-paris.html"><img height="20" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/comments.png"></a><div style="clear:left;padding-top:10px"><h3>Related Stories</h3><ul><li><a href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/02/unexpected-accidental-girly-day-in-parispink-china-and-pink-champagne.html">Unexpected, Accidental Girly Day in Paris...Pink China and Pink Champagne</a></li><li><a href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/02/calling-ile-st-louis-homeat-least-for-a-few-days.html">Calling Ile St. Louis home...for a few days at least</a></li></ul></div> </div>GourmandeMom<font color="#616469" face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif" ><Img align="left" border="0" height="1" width="1" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0;padding:0" hspace="0" src="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/i/29984553/0/twelve"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>We had already managed the first issue of the trip, a transportation issue: getting Shelly a spot on the shuttle with us into Paris that first morning of arrival.  Then it occurred to us as we got closer to Paris that we had another issue to address in our sleep deprived state.   We were really, <em><strong>really </strong></em>hungry. </p>
<p>I had not thought through this one.  We wondered:  Would breakfast be available at our "bed and breakfast" accommodations?  Too late to ask for it?  Where would we go on Easter morning to get our Paris breakfast on, when much of Paris was closed, or so we understood?</p>
<p>Not five minutes after we arrived at the destination and entered through the enormous deep rich blue enamel doors of our lodging into the "music room," our host Anne asked the million dollar question:</p>
<p>"Are you hungry? Can I get you something to eat?  Coffee, tea?   I can set out some bread, some cheese, some ham....would you like that?"   </p>
<p>I think we stumbled over ourselves in the rush of words spewing forth from each of the four of us indicating yes, yes, and yes please and thank you and oh, yes.  Please. </p>
<p>In this one meal, everything that is right and good about France was laid out for my friends.  As a self-appointed cultural ambassador for Paris, and French culture in general, I like making sure people have as nice a time as possible when they go to France such that they get a glimpse into the culture I know and love.  All of this was taken care of pretty much in that one feast.  The elements:</p>
<p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ea903641970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="All else 007" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ea903641970c image-full" src="http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ea903641970c-800wi" title="All else 007" /></a></p>
<p><span style="font-size: 13pt;"><strong>1.  Bread: Eric Kayser.  Enough said.</strong></span></p>
<p>I discovered <strong><a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.maison-kayser.com/" target="_blank">Eric Kayser </a> </strong>bread a couple of years ago, on a Context Travel food tour with Barbra Austin, who then went on to found and run Paris by Mouth with Meg Zimbeck.  She bought for us to contrast with baguettes by mere mortals his hallmark baguettes, including his phenom the baguette tradition, and a superb one.   This bread is something else:  the combination of texture - on the inside not doughy, not bland, not bleah but just-right chewiness - and then that crust -- so very crusty -- and the feast for the eyes in the earthy, crusty brown of this bread....it is a thing of beauty.</p>
<p>Eric Kayser was instrumental we understand in reforming the provision of a proper baguette, such that a <em>boulangerie </em>could offer a baguette using the best ingredients possible and not be stuck with the price ceiling for the usual baguette.  Good ingredients cost more money though.  His view won out, and as a result one can buy average-ok-enough-to-sop-up-your-salad dressing baguettes for the standard price, and one can also buy a baguette <em><strong>tradition</strong></em>, at a higher price, comprised of only four ingredients (wheat flour, water, yeast, salt) and made <em>sur place</em><em>:  </em><a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://myparisnotebook.com/2011/05/03/the-best-baguette-in-paris-2011/" target="_blank">Phyllis Flicker has a nice account on her My Paris Notebook blog </a>in describing the winners of the 2011 Best Baguette in Paris contest.  Phyllis raises a good point.  Just because you ordered a baguette tradition does not mean you're getting a superb baguette.  And it certainly does not mean that you are getting the real treat that is the Eric Kayser baguette tradition.</p>
<p>We made good time on getting through that first baguette, which Anne had sliced and laid out in a long, narrow, made-for-baguettes thickly woven basket lined with a rustic linen material.  Anne answered the unspoken concern in my mind, stating:  "Do not worry.  There is more and more bread."    That Eric Kayser is their neighborhood <em>boulangerie</em>, on the Rue Monge, and that their daily bread is the Eric Kayser Baguette Tradition...this is a good life.</p>
<p><span style="font-size: 13pt;"><strong>2.  Butter.  Not just a condiment.</strong></span></p>
<p>Anne set out for us two plates of giant blocks of butter.  One was salted.  The other was unsalted.   We are missing out here in the US by not having real butter a part of our daily lives.  We don't need it every day.   We don't need it in Paula Deen terms.  And we certainly do not need to slather it with gusto on so much bread as we did that morning.  The French don't eat that way after all.  But we could use a little more of the really good stuff.  All in moderation. </p>
<p><span style="font-size: 13pt;"><strong>3.  Miel, Confiture, and....Salted Caramel.</strong></span></p>
<p>Was it not enough to have the strawberry preserves (Bonne Maman...I use that here too) and the two plates of butter?   But no, we had to have honey harvested just every two years from "<em>sapin</em>," which is very difficult and tricky to harvest actually.  This honey was earthy sweet. Not cloyingly sweet.  Not sweet like the honey I have in a little bear-shaped plastic bottle in my cupboard.  Sweet in a delicate, herbal way. </p>
<p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ea99ad10970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="All else 008" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ea99ad10970c image-full" src="http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ea99ad10970c-800wi" title="All else 008" /></a></p>
<p>But there was more.  A jar of salted caramel - both items available at the Saturday market at the Place Maubert.   We missed the Saturday morning market alas.  The salted caramel is indeed tasty - and amazing on a Eric Kayser baguette with butter and prosciutto, but that <em>miel de sapin</em>....I am on a mission to track it down.</p>
<p><span style="font-size: 13pt;"><strong>4.  Prosciutto, et al.: the beginning of a pattern... </strong></span></p>
<p>Who knew that we could enjoy pork fat so much as this.  Who knew prosciutto was this good - on this bread, with this honey, or the salted caramel.  This would become a pattern.  Any inquiry from Anne if we would like a little ham or prosciutto with our breakfast was always answered with, "yes, well, maybe just a <em>couple </em>of <em>small </em>slices..."<strong>  </strong></p>
<p><span style="font-size: 13pt;"><strong>5.  Cheese:  Comte, Reblochon...</strong></span></p>
<p>Yes, seriously, there was more.  We were slowing down, but for me, the setting out of this cheese...I think I sunk back in my chair in gastronomic bliss.  A couple of us nibbled at the cheese.  Some focused on the prosciutto.  I was focused on the cheese.  Cannot turn down a taste of Reblochon.  </p>
<p><span style="font-size: 13pt;"><strong>6.  Coffee:  Nespresso Rules.  </strong>  </span></p>
<p>Although a large stainless steel carafe held our strong coffee, Anne also offered a quick espresso for anyone from the sleek Nespresso machine.  Those things are everywhere it seems these days:  at the offices I visited for meetings, in Anne's kitchen, in our studio apartment kitchen there at her house.   It makes a mean espresso I have to say.  It may become a fixture in my kitchen in the very near future.</p>
<p>We finally had enough.  I did not think I ever could.  But call it quits we finally did, sitting there at the long table in the kitchen with sunlight streaming in and a kind family welcoming us, along with the bells of Notre Dame: the great bourdon bell, the Emmanuel, ringing its singular solemn rings to note the Easter celebration.</p>
<p>It was not a bad start to the trip.  I left the table thinking <em>les filles </em>might be taking a liking to France...</p></div>
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<div style="clear:both;padding-top:1em;"><a title="Share with AddToAny" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/26/29984553/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/addtoany.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Tweet This" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/24/29984553/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/twitter.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by email" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/19/29984553/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/emailsubscribe.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by RSS" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/20/29984553/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/rss.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="View Comments" href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/04/the-mother-of-all-breakfasts-arrival-morning-breakfast-in-paris.html"><img height="20" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/comments.png"></a><div style="clear:left;padding-top:10px"><h3>Related Stories</h3><ul><li><a href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/02/unexpected-accidental-girly-day-in-parispink-china-and-pink-champagne.html">Unexpected, Accidental Girly Day in Paris...Pink China and Pink Champagne</a></li><li><a href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/02/calling-ile-st-louis-homeat-least-for-a-few-days.html">Calling Ile St. Louis home...for a few days at least</a></li></ul></div> </div>http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/04/paris-magic-night-no-one-for-the-big-46-4-15-3.htmlLes Fines Gueules: Night No. One for the Big 46, 4, 15, 3tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a0120a89a75e8970b016304904bcb970d2012-04-21T22:02:04-05:002012-04-21T22:02:04-05:00<font color="#616469" face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif" >At age 46 I did my 15th trip to Paris, the 3rd trip to Paris in 7 months, and--for a change, rather than going it alone or with my son on vacation--went with a group of 4 girlfriends. Though these recent trips are part of my fuzzy Paris-Austin Business Plan, even to my ear it sounds decadent. Although this trip also would be a business one for me, it was still a girlfriend trip. Though none of us had travelled together farther than say a tapas bar downtown or to each other's houses for parties, or to Central Market, somehow we decided this could work: this international trip together, to Paris, where some of us did not speak the language. It would work for two prime reasons: first, each of us had killer travel skills in different areas; second, none of us wanted or needed to spend every moment with everybody else. And so it was that back in early 2012, after an inspired evening of show tunes around the Steinway chez moi, and maybe some adult beverages, that the four of us would months later find ourselves lodging together in very close quarters. But the lodging would be the most uniquely extraordinary accommodations ever perhaps for Paris--a 400-year-old house near Notre Dame, in a separate "studio" within an extraordinary house, and with an extraordinary family of 8 superstar academic overachievers (including the parents), gifted at birth it seems with a natural abundance of graciousness and kindness. As one of our group had never been to France, or Paris, and all of us love to eat, eat well, and in charming, worthwhile, interesting venues, and preferably not too expensive (for Paris), and as I was "in charge of food," I put some serious stress on myself to make sure Paris...</font>
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<br>At age 46 I did my 15th trip to Paris, the 3rd trip to Paris in 7 months, and--for a change, rather than going it alone or with my son on vacation--went with a group of 4 girlfriends.  Though these recent trips are part of my fuzzy Paris-Austin Business Plan, even to my ear it sounds decadent. </p>
<p>Although this trip also would be a business one for me, it was still a girlfriend trip.  Though none of us had travelled together farther than say a tapas bar downtown or to each other's houses for parties, or to Central Market, somehow we decided this could work: this international trip together, to Paris, where some of us did not speak the language.  It would work for two prime reasons: first, each of us had killer travel skills in different areas; second, none of us wanted or needed to spend every moment with everybody else.   </p>
<p>And so it was that back in early 2012, after an inspired evening of show tunes around the Steinway chez moi, and maybe some adult beverages, that the four of us would months later find ourselves lodging together in very close quarters.  But the lodging would be the most uniquely extraordinary accommodations ever perhaps for Paris--a 400-year-old house near Notre Dame, in a separate "studio" within an extraordinary house, and with an extraordinary family of 8 superstar academic overachievers (including the parents), gifted at birth it seems with a natural abundance of graciousness and kindness. </p>
<p>As one of our group had never been to France, or Paris, and all of us love to eat, eat well, and in charming, worthwhile, interesting venues, and preferably not too expensive (for Paris), and as I was "in charge of food," I put some serious stress on myself to make sure Paris made a good impression on Day One.</p>
<p>Arriving on Easter Sunday presented the challenge of ensuring decent dining venues were even open.  <strong><a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.lesfinesgueules.fr/" target="_blank">Les Fines Gueules </a></strong>was (much research done on this topic, mostly via <strong><a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://parisbymouth.com/" target="_self">Paris by Mouth</a></strong>), just as it generally is on Sundays.  Why pick this place?  Location, interior textures, reviews, vibe (ascertainable by the foregoing). </p>
<p>Things started off not so well though.  But it was because of this that the evening in fact turned out so well. </p>
<p>The not-so-well part was because of some confusion about the time for our reservation.  At first it was for the "American" time of 19h30, and a decision was made late in the day to make it for 21h00.   When we arrived, on time at 21h00, I was delighted to see the location, venue, vibe, was all just right. I had never seen the Place des Victoires.  Loved it.  Loved the place.  I was so pleased with myself and for my friends who had trusted me to get this right.  </p>
<p>But I soon learned, with some hand gestures and verbiage from the staff of two, including gestures of dismissiveness and something like "well you are totally SOL,"  that the reservation, in fact, had not been changed to 21h00.  They were awaiting us some 1.5 hours earlier at 19h30, and now, nothing.  No charming seating there inside for us.</p>
<p>I just kicked the humility and self-deprecation into high gear, genuinely.  I was, really, very sorry about all this. I apologize, over and over.  And over.  I explain:</p>
<p>We just arrived.  Literally, today. </p>
<p>So looking forward to this and this place. </p>
<p>The person who made our reservation told us she would change it for us.  </p>
<p>As far as we we knew it was changed.  Oh, dear.  So very very sorry. </p>
<p>Very sorry. </p>
<p>Oh, this is awful.  I cannot believe it was not changed.</p>
<p>I am so sorry.  May we just sit outside?  We are happy to do so. </p>
<p>The chilly reception warms up.  He waves us off to the front, out on the quiet sidewalk where there are a handful of tables on a narrow sidewalk on this tiny little island of real estate off the Place des Victoires.   It was nice of my companions to think that I had charmed our way into a far different dining experience than we otherwise might have had.  But whatever it was, from then on there would be much teasing, a lot of laughing, and maybe a little flirting (our waiter - whom we would later learn is Jean-Francois) was kind of totally adorable and endearing). </p>
<p>It may have been the jet lag.  Or it may have been vestiges of our early morning stunned surprise of driving into Paris in the shuttle that morning to find Paris had clear blue skies on Easter Sunday morning when the forecast had showed grey and cloudy.  Or it may have been the delight of being in this quiet street, on Easter Sunday night, in Paris, with my friends.   It also may have something to do with the fact that this night followed a 6:30pm Mass of the Resurrection at Notre Dame, which followed our hearing, on our arrival at our unique accommodations, the ringing of <a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.notredamedeparis.fr/spip.php?article466" target="_blank">the Bourdon - the Emmanuel bell</a> - rung solemnly, slowly, for only the most holy liturgical occasions such as Easter, and hearing it from the terrace of our new home for the next week, which terrace overlooks the towers of Notre Dame.</p>
<p>It may have been all of that sensory overload that made us all a little too giddy and giggly.  Ok, maybe I was a little more giggly than others.  JF was just cracking me up.  And to think we went from no table and starving, to great table and well fed and well-amused, within about 1.5 hours, was the exemplary portrait of French culture and French people - okay Parisians perhaps - grossly generalized.   You start out all cool and formal, following the rituals and strictures of social niceties.  You end with a great memory.  And not just of the food.  I barely remember what I ate.  I remember a lot of laughing and that nice white wine.</p>
<p>The walk home on our first night in Paris, with my Austin GFs, was not bad either....</p>
<p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0167658553fd970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="All else 070" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a0120a89a75e8970b0167658553fd970b image-full" src="http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0167658553fd970b-800wi" title="All else 070" /></a></p>
<p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ea86fc5d970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="All else 098" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ea86fc5d970c image-full" src="http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0168ea86fc5d970c-800wi" title="All else 098" /></a></p>
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<div style="clear:both;padding-top:1em;"><a title="Share with AddToAny" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/26/29968672/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/addtoany.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Tweet This" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/24/29968672/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/twitter.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by email" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/19/29968672/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/emailsubscribe.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by RSS" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/20/29968672/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/rss.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="View Comments" href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/04/paris-magic-night-no-one-for-the-big-46-4-15-3.html"><img height="20" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/comments.png"></a> </div>http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/03/kale-cravings-.htmlKale Cravings tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a0120a89a75e8970b0168e970e6f8970c2012-03-30T11:48:27-05:002012-04-05T19:15:10-05:00<font color="#616469" face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif" >The Eat More Sleep More mantra the triathlon coaches ordered early on in this training for my first triathlon has really worked. Gone are the concerns about the usual dietary regime. I eat when hungry, drink a lot of water, and now do not go to sleep at midnight and drag self up and out the door, as I did before, for a 5:30 workout. And what do you know: no more exhaustion and feeling utterly depleted. Sleep really is healing. With the CapTexTri just 2 months away, the weekend workouts in particular are getting more and more intense, e.g., 1 hour hilly bike ride; 10 minute run straight uphill right after; or 1 hour swim and main set of 2 500s followed by one hour bike ride in hot sun. Feeding the machine enough has become challenging. A few almonds in the afternoon for mid-day snack just don't cut it. One day, after a weekday morning workout on my own, and after the first post-recovery quick fix of chocolate milk, I headed to Central Market pre-lunch. Being hungry, no, ravenous, and being in that still delightful post-workout glow, I started grabbing. But not after I was first paralyzed by indecision standing there in front of the prepared foods aisle with an overwhelming urge to consume just about every item there: meatloaf, grilled lemon rosemary chicken, grilled salmon, glazed carrots, green beans almondine. It all looked really, really good. I did contain myself so as not to break the bank. I ended up with a reasonable amount of food: a huge piece of almond-crusted tilapia - maybe meant for 2 servings but, no, this was ALL for me; some fresh colorful slaw, but then, the real gem of the day,a salad of kale with citrus dressing, almonds, and cranberries. One...</font>
<div style="clear:both;padding-top:1em;"><a title="Share with AddToAny" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/26/29731002/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/addtoany.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Tweet This" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/24/29731002/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/twitter.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by email" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/19/29731002/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/emailsubscribe.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by RSS" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/20/29731002/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/rss.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="View Comments" href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/03/kale-cravings-.html"><img height="20" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/comments.png"></a><div style="clear:left;padding-top:10px"><h3>Related Stories</h3><ul><li><a href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/03/post-paris-culinary-events-pflugerville-and-pbj.html">Post Paris Culinary Events: Pflugerville and PB&J</a></li><li><a href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/02/unexpected-accidental-girly-day-in-parispink-china-and-pink-champagne.html">Unexpected, Accidental Girly Day in Paris...Pink China and Pink Champagne</a></li><li><a href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/02/calling-ile-st-louis-homeat-least-for-a-few-days.html">Calling Ile St. Louis home...for a few days at least</a></li></ul></div> </div>GourmandeMom<font color="#616469" face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif" ><Img align="left" border="0" height="1" width="1" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0;padding:0" hspace="0" src="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/i/29731002/0/twelve"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><blockquote>
<p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0168e970998b970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="015" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a0120a89a75e8970b0168e970998b970c image-full" src="http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0168e970998b970c-800wi" title="015" /></a></p>
<p>The Eat More Sleep More mantra the triathlon coaches ordered early on in this training for my first triathlon has really worked.  Gone are the concerns about the usual dietary regime.  I eat when hungry, drink a lot of water, and now do not go to sleep at midnight and drag self up and out the door, as I did before, for a 5:30 workout.   And what do you know: no more exhaustion and feeling utterly depleted.  Sleep really is healing. </p>
<p>With the CapTexTri just 2 months away, the weekend workouts in particular are getting more and more intense, e.g., 1 hour hilly bike ride; 10 minute run straight uphill right after; or 1 hour swim and main set of 2 500s followed by one hour bike ride in hot sun.   Feeding the machine enough has become challenging.  A few almonds in the afternoon for mid-day snack just don't cut it.</p>
<p>One day, after a weekday morning workout on my own, and after the first post-recovery quick fix of chocolate milk, I headed to Central Market pre-lunch.  Being hungry, no, ravenous, and being in that still delightful post-workout glow, I started grabbing.  But not after I was first paralyzed by indecision standing there in front of the prepared foods aisle with an overwhelming urge to consume just about every item there: meatloaf, grilled lemon rosemary chicken, grilled salmon, glazed carrots, green beans almondine.  It all looked really, really good. </p>
<p>I did contain myself so as not to break the bank.  I ended up with a reasonable amount of food:  a huge piece of almond-crusted tilapia - maybe meant for 2 servings but, no, this was ALL for me; some fresh colorful slaw, but then, the real gem of the day,a salad of kale with citrus dressing, almonds, and cranberries.   One bite: crisp, cool, multi-textured, and those deep rich greens making me feel all busting-out healthy - but with the tartness of the citrus and the cranberries...I wished I had grabbed more of this.   No question that for lunch it would go on the big yellow plate that I bought in Salado a few years ago.<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0163037ab371970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="017" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a0120a89a75e8970b0163037ab371970d image-full" src="http://www.gourmandemom.com/.a/6a0120a89a75e8970b0163037ab371970d-800wi" title="017" /></a></p>
<p>So happy with this discovery so late in life about kale, I've been collecting kale recipes now on line.  </p>
<p>This one is particularly spectacular in inspiring a dash to CM for kale, and it is from other foodie/lawyer type, the author of "The Meaning of Pie":  <strong><a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.themeaningofpie.com/2011/09/kale-salad-with-lemon-and-parmesan/" target="_blank">Raw Kale Salad with Lemon and Parmesan</a></strong>.   Not quite as summery, but a must because it includes bacon, the ultimate seasoning of all, is this <strong><a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.gilttaste.com/stories/582-kale-salad-with-pine-nuts-smoked-bacon-golden-raisins-and-parmesan" target="_blank">Kale Salad with Pine Nuts, Smoked Bacon, Golden Raisins and Parmesan</a></strong>, complete with pretty great video and what looks to be a not-unattractive male type at the helm.  And with CM just a stone's throw away from my noontime Business French class, kale may have to be on the menu for lunch today as well. </p>
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<div style="clear:both;padding-top:1em;"><a title="Share with AddToAny" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/26/29731002/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/addtoany.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Tweet This" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/24/29731002/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/twitter.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by email" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/19/29731002/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/emailsubscribe.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by RSS" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/20/29731002/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/rss.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="View Comments" href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/03/kale-cravings-.html"><img height="20" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/comments.png"></a><div style="clear:left;padding-top:10px"><h3>Related Stories</h3><ul><li><a href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/03/post-paris-culinary-events-pflugerville-and-pbj.html">Post Paris Culinary Events: Pflugerville and PB&J</a></li><li><a href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/02/unexpected-accidental-girly-day-in-parispink-china-and-pink-champagne.html">Unexpected, Accidental Girly Day in Paris...Pink China and Pink Champagne</a></li><li><a href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/02/calling-ile-st-louis-homeat-least-for-a-few-days.html">Calling Ile St. Louis home...for a few days at least</a></li></ul></div> </div>http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/03/minnesota-mishaps-mitigated-walleye-and-wild-rice.htmlMinnesota Mishaps Mitigated: Walleye and Wild Ricetag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a0120a89a75e8970b016764290f12970b2012-03-23T23:31:48-05:002012-03-23T23:31:48-05:00<font color="#616469" face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif" >Work stuff had me in Minnesota. For the first time ever, I saw the land of Lutherans...the world of Garrison Keillor. I was a little star struck when my fellow lawyers pointed out where Garrison does his show. And where The St. Paul Chamber Orchestra does its amazing thing. And because I had no luck getting an earlier flight to get to Houston to get to Austin, I lucked out on a fantastic food experience. Lunch at the St. Paul Grill. And because I was a good novice triathlete, I had done the swim workout at the awesome Lifetime Fitness place at The Grand Hotel, but inadequate recovery foodstuffs had me starving by the post-hearing debriefing that was being held over lunch. Beer Battered Walleye and Fries sounded just right for the ravenous hunger overcoming me just then. I have heard about the legendary walleye of course. And there it was: all over the menu. There also was of course on the menu Minnesota Wild Rice soup, but the overload on the fries and beer battered fried walleye reined in the urge to get in all things Minnesota-ish in one meal. The fish was light and steaming hot. Then there was that giant crispy crunchiness, with crust like an enormous exaggerated inflated crusty encasement for the fish. I don't know much about walleye, and I'm not sure how it is that someone who has never been anywhere near Minnesota, ever, knows about walleye. Maybe it's the stuff of lore thanks to Garrison Keillor. But those folks in Minnesota, who I have to say are seriously pretty much the nicest people in the world (when I told one of them this, she said, seriously: "Oh, we just drink a lot...") seem to be a little more than proud of the walleye....</font>
<div style="clear:both;padding-top:1em;"><a title="Share with AddToAny" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/26/29657640/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/addtoany.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Tweet This" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/24/29657640/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/twitter.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by email" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/19/29657640/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/emailsubscribe.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="Subscribe by RSS" href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/_/20/29657640/twelve"><img height="20" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/rss.png" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0"></a> <a title="View Comments" href="http://www.gourmandemom.com/twelve/2012/03/minnesota-mishaps-mitigated-walleye-and-wild-rice.html"><img height="20" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0px 3px 0px;padding:0" src="http://assets.feedblitz.com/i/comments.png"></a> </div>GourmandeMom<font color="#616469" face="'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif" ><Img align="left" border="0" height="1" width="1" style="border:0;float:left;margin:0;padding:0" hspace="0" src="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/i/29657640/0/twelve"><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>Work stuff had me in Minnesota.  For the first time ever, I saw the land of Lutherans...the world of Garrison Keillor.  I was a little star struck when my fellow lawyers pointed out where Garrison does his show.  And where The St. Paul Chamber Orchestra does its amazing thing.  And because I had no luck getting an earlier flight to get to Houston to get to Austin, I lucked out on a fantastic food experience.  Lunch at the <strong><a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.stpaulgrill.com/about_st_paul_grill/" target="_self">St. Paul Grill</a></strong>.  And because I was a good novice triathlete, I had done the swim workout at the awesome Lifetime Fitness place at <strong><a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.grandhotelminneapolis.com/" target="_blank">The Grand Hotel</a></strong>, but inadequate recovery foodstuffs had me starving by the post-hearing debriefing that was being held over lunch.</p>
<p>Beer Battered Walleye and Fries sounded just right for the ravenous hunger overcoming me just then.  I have heard about the legendary walleye of course.  And there it was: all over the menu. There also was of course on the menu Minnesota Wild Rice soup, but the overload on the fries and beer battered fried walleye reined in the urge to get in all things Minnesota-ish in one meal.  The fish was light and steaming hot.  Then there was that giant crispy crunchiness, with crust like an enormous exaggerated inflated crusty encasement for the fish.   I don't know much about walleye, and I'm not sure how it is that someone who has never been anywhere near Minnesota, ever, knows about walleye.  Maybe it's the stuff of lore thanks to Garrison Keillor.  But those folks in Minnesota, who I have to say are seriously pretty much the nicest people in the world (when I told one of them this, she said, seriously: "Oh, we just drink a lot...") seem to be a little more than proud of the walleye.  Looking up some basic facts about the walleye, I find this tidbit:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>"Nothing is better than Minnesota walleye, Minnesota’s tastiest game fish. You won’t even mind cleaning them. In fact, you won’t even blink when making that lake home payment.  Minnesota walleye! The fish that we love to worship, catch, eat, and make up lies about! This is the fish that made Minnesota famous. The land of sky blue waters. God’s Country. Have you ever sat in a boat on a clear spring night, about 10pm, on a lake in the whitefish chain, with Northern Lights dancing overhead, and hungry walleyes swarming under your boat? It’s enough to make a God-believer out of anyone."   To prove someone really said this, read the actual article <strong><a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://realestatetwincities.net/walleye-lakes/" target="_self">here</a></strong>. </p>
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<p>It was time to catch a cab to the airport.  Passed the confluence of the Mississippi and Minnesota Rivers, very cool, and in just 10 minutes was at the airport.  I watched the departure time for my plane to Houston, after checking again on earlier flights, get delayed and delayed and more delayed.  Then, the grand finale: it was cancelled.  We were rebooked, rerouted, and handed vouchers for hotels, meals, etc.  They were really quite great about it. </p>
<p>And so it was that at the Airport Crowne Plaza Hotel, I got in the Minnesota dish that would have been too much at lunch.  I got my cup of Minnesota Wild Rice Soup.  And it was fantastic - thick and creamy but not icky creamy, wild rice throughout, big chunks of hot tender chicken.  For a minute I wished I had ordered nothing but a bowl of this and more of the crusty bread to go with the glass of some house red wine.  I recalled a friend from college, from Minnesota, giving me some type of mix for this soup and making it one Christmas when home visiting for the holiday.  It showed the great multi-cultural experience I was having at my small private college in bucolic Virginia.  </p>
<p>Though airline food vouchers do not cover wine...I went all out and blew all the vouchers on the airport hotel meal, which would include as the main course more Minnesota Wild Rice - as a side for the roasted <a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.urbanspoon.com/rph/101/1344581/707831/colorado-dish-airline-chicken-breast-perfect-photo" target="_blank">airline chicken</a>.   And then that was about enough of Minnesota Wild Rice. </p>
<p>Looking up some culinary history on this grain though, the adulation is about on the same level as for the walleye.  This site calls it a grain that is "<strong>as <a href="http://feeds.feedblitz.com/~/t/0/0/twelve/~http://www.mnwildrice.com/riceinfo.htm" target="_self">old as history itself."</a></strong>   I'm just glad to be reminded that this is good stuff, and I need to put it in rotation for next fall, which here in Austin will be like December.</p>
<p>Up at 4:30 the next morning to catch the new attempt to get to Houston and to Austin.  This 7 a.m. "segment" they called it was made just for us as nothing else was open for so many people trying to get to Houston.   But that too was delayed, again - maintenance issue - and I was missing my Austin flight then already.    Up to the counter I go, again, to change the connecting flight.  Instead, this nice Minnesota citizen (and so it was for ALL the nice airline staff, so many people coming over to help with all the rebooking and bouchers...so nice, seriously, seriously good people), gets me, somehow, on another airline, on a nice bigger plane too (was not keen on the smaller regional jet for 3 hours to HOU anyway), and that was 2 gates away and was boarding RIGHT THEN, that would go through Dallas.</p>
<p>I am one of the last to board, but I have a good aisle seat close to the front. I feel so lucky to be here, on a big plane, in a seat, and on a plane that seems to be actually taking off. </p>
<p>I would feel even more lucky, when just then someone in First Class leans back and asks if I would not mind trading my seat in 8B for her seat in First Class so she could sit closer to a loved one.  Uh. No.  I don't mind.  Don't mind at all.</p>
<p>I enjoyed a blankie, someone taking my coat and hanging it up for me, and a (free)screwdriver (at 8:00 a.m.).  Not without one minor maintenance issue though, which did turn out to be quick fix, before we actually took off.</p>
<p>I made it to Dallas. I made it to Austin.   But were it not for the mishaps, I would not have had my first taste in some 30 years of Minnesota's famous grain that is "as old as history itself." </p>
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