Friday, October 3, 2008
From My Plate to Yours
Confession: There are few things I enjoy more than reading a description of a good dish, food experience or a well-written recipe. Fortunately for me, I have the privilege of coming across food writers daily who inspire me to new heights of culinary creativity and writing -- who take a souffle from a batch of eggs to a waltz or a shrimp recipe to a sublime experience.
I'm not kidding.
I decided not to hog all of the food blogs I consume (you won't get me to admit how many blogs I read -- it borders on shame). Thus I present to you "From My Plate to Yours," a collection of the best of this week's food blogs. Judging by what made the cut, I would definitely say I had France on the brain this week, as every article that struck me either mentioned the country or reminded me of it in some way:
David Lebovitz consistently get me into trouble by posting something delish that I am all of sudden desperate to make -- from gelato to fresh pesto. His gorgeous pics of cheesecake brownies (see above) made me want to run to the store and buy the ingredients (I settled for showing all my co-workers the recipe), and his description of the French response to cheesecake, "le cheesecake is always spoken of with a reverence normally reserved for the finest cheeses and most exclusive wines" made me laugh. He never disappoints.
In southwest France, Kate Hill's one-paragraph description of her Gascony home made me want to see its beauty in the fall: golden leaves, dew, that first crispness in the air and foods like pumpkins, mushrooms and pears that I've been waiting to be in season all year.
And while I was happy that Chocolate & Zucchini is having its fifth anniversary party, I must admit that I was a little bitter that the soiree was (sigh) in Paris. Clotilde, I wish I could hop a plane this week to meet you, say congrats and thanks for all your insightful tips and fun stories.
It's funny how reading all these blogs made me remember how much I missed Paris -- a city that I was in for only eight days but whose culture and food I can still taste and remember. I was able to eat bread three times a day and not feel guilty. A simple breakfast of yogurt and fruit never tasted so fresh. And the wine I enjoyed held a category of its own.
I hope I will be landing in France again soon. But for now, I will settle for singing "La Vie en Rose" in my Kia and promising myself yet again to order Rosetta Stone's French edition. I gotta grow beyond saying "Where is the bathroom?" in French.