Showing posts with label foods we love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label foods we love. Show all posts

Monday, January 28, 2013

Eating Paris

You thought you had a delicious Thanksgiving dinner last year, I'm sure. Turkey, stuffing/dressing (technical usage hotly debated right now at the Meldrumhaus), pies. Well, I hate to tell you, but ours was probably better. You see, for Thanksgiving this year, Sara and I ate Paris. All of it.

I realize as I'm sitting down to write this blog experience that our picture-per-calorie-consumed density is depressingly low, primarily because I hate photographing food in restaurants. However, I want to describe this culinary adventure in some detail, with a few photos of some Parisian highlights (Versailles, Sacre Coeur, the Opera, baguettes) for good measure. Kudos to the diligent who read the descriptions of eating.

We arrived in Paris in the early afternoon, thanks to our speedy two-and-a-half hour connection direct from Aachen. After getting settled in to our B&B in Montmartre, we hopped on the Metro towards the 10th arrondissement--we had done some research and found it to be a place with a good restaurant density. We went into a taqueria--Candelaria--that featured the best tacos we'd ever had. They're not quite the earthy crispy tacos of Cactus Taqueria in Berkeley, but they were refined, small tacos in a soft corn tortilla that, to our sadly Mexican-food-deprived taste buds, were heavenly. We each had three plus chips and salsa and some agua fresca. It wasn't as cheap as Cactus (nothing in Paris is), but it was great. Probably better than San Francisco's Mamacita, our Bay Area alternative for fancy tacos.

We decided to walk to from the 10th down towards the Musee d'Orsay along the Seine. As we got close to the museum we started getting hungry (our tacos were small and we only had one snack on the way there)--since the museum was open late (Thursdays until 9:45 pm), we decided to stop by the chocolatier Jean-Paul Hevin for our first of three hot chocolate experiences. JPH was my least favorite of the three--it was thick and creamy but didn't have the chocolate flavor to support such a thick consistency. The cake there, however, was delicious. And beautiful. Sara's passionfruit-filled-meringue-y thing was light enough to offset the weight of the chocolate, while I, the glutton for punishment, ordered a dark chocolate-raspberry torte to complement my hot chocolate. Almost too much at one go, but I did the best I could--I ate it all.

We visited the Musee d'Orsay, which has a really fantastic collection and is set in a beautifully converted train station. Our favorites were some early 20th century works by George Desvallières. (I only know because I took a photo of the nameplate by a painting which is STRICTEMENT INTERDIT in the Musee d'Orsay, apparently.) My favorite is this (in small format):

Le Christ à la colonne by George Desvallières.
From the Musee d'Orsay website.

After our night at the museum, we went to the area near the Gare du Nord (North Train Station) for our Thanksgiving dinner at the very French sounding "Playtime." We chose Playtime due to its proximity to Montmartre, as well as its recommendation in parisbymouth.com (a highly recommended site for any foodie trips to Paris). We were super lucky to get our table for two (without a reservation) as two or three other groups were turned away immediately after us. I won't give all the details, but I'm about 95% sure that this was the best meal I've ever had. I had a fancy (though not Kobe) Japanese beef that melted on my tongue. Sara had a 14-hour slow braised pork (and she never gets pork). We we had a trio of small desserts with funky fruits. The server took 10 minutes to walk us through the menu and answer all of our questions. All this in a rather casual location (making it feel very homey): it was an absolute delight. It certainly wasn't traditional Thanksgiving fare, but it was a delicious, delightful, highly recommendable alternative.

Sated, we headed back to the B&B to refresh ourselves prior to our trip to Versailles. Before we left for Versailles, however, we stopped by a bakery (Boulangerie Mauvieux), which had won the 2012 award for the best baguette in Paris. (Note: this is a serious competition. Of the 180+ baguettes submitted each year, some 60 are disqualified for not meeting the requirements of the dimensions of the baguette.) We sat down in a park to enjoy our breakfast. These baguettes are really, really good. The texture wasn't so different from other good baguettes we've had, but the flavor was somehow richer and more developed. Speaking of richer and more developed...

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...welcome to Versailles. The palace of kings, setting the standard for all the other Baroque palaces (of which we have seen quite a few), and only a 30 minute train ride outside of Paris. The iconic Hall of Mirrors is certainly impressive, though the tourists detract somewhat from its grandeur:

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Marie Antoinette's jewelry cabinet was ornate (and next to a quick getaway door for her):

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But perhaps the best part, despite the drizzle and cold, was the gardens. They are a huge, labyrinthine collection of trees, statues, and fountains, of which we could only explore a small part. It would be amazing to stroll around there in the summer (anyone up for a visit?), but even in the winter they were strikingly green.

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The frogs and water maidens in the above photo made us smile (none of the fountains was actually spouting water at the time), and the fountain of children (and made for children) below was under repairs.

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We were most impressed by the huge fountain/pool to the north (?) of the palace, dedicated to Neptune and his watery minions. The wall-sculpture was replete with intricately carved details, but one could hardly make them out for the distance--the pool separating you from being able to see the sculpture is some 60 feet wide and 100+ feet long.

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Right next to the Tribute to Triton (I made that name up) is this great fountain with a dragon who is either in serious pain or laughing hysterically. Can't tell which.

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A little rain at Versailles can't keep Sara's smile down.

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On our way out of the gardens, we stopped in the palace for hot chocolate number two at the world-renowned Angelina. This chocolate was seriously great (and sipping it inside of Versailles didn't hurt). It was thick like JPH, but had so much more flavor--it really tasted like drinking a melted chocolate bar. They served our two cups' worth of hot chocolate in a single carafe, and two ramekins of whipped cream. It was a meal unto itself (even though we got other food there, too), which was good because it's not cheap to eat inside of Versailles--this hot chocolate runs about $10 per cup. Definitely worth it at least once.

After our Versailles excursion, we came back to the city hoping to take a tour of the Opera. Alas, the last tour concluded an hour before we arrived, despite our previous research indicating that it'd be open.  (I suspect that there was a performance that night, causing early closure for tours.) The exterior, however, is stunning, laden with tributes to music and musicians. The sky, really twilight, was made this deep blue by a few spotlights on adjacent buildings. Absolutely memorable. (The blue really is true to color, at least on my screen.)

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After a few moments at the Opera we did something crazy. Hoping to catch an English movie (something we don't get so often in Aachen) and still eat at a reasonable time, we walked essentially the length of the entire city. (Okay, I just checked google maps: really only 3.1 km, but after a whole day at Versailles it felt like the whole city. Especially for Sara, who was carrying at the time a 1.25 pound baby in her belly.) We got to the area of our restaurant and decided to see the movie first, so we walked an additional 1.4 km to see "Argo." It was great--definitely worthy of best picture. We then walked back to Clasico Argentino--an empanada/Argentine gelato place that really was the whole reason for our trip. We hadn't had empanadas for a long time, despite their being the featured food at our wedding in 2008. These empanadas were great--the filling wasn't quite as flavorful as some homemade empanadas I've had/made, but the masa (dough) was superb: perfectly golden with just the right crunch and flavor. The gelato was good-not-great, but, overall, our Friday in Paris was superb. We slept well that night.

The next day, being our last in Paris, we got up to explore Montmartre some more, including the iconic basilica Sacre Coeur.

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Sara and my brother Jaren had gone inside once about a year prior when we were last in Paris, though I stayed out to watch the luggage. This time, we climbed the dome of the basilica (climbing church towers is a pastime of ours) for a beautiful view of the city--the ceramic chimneys on each roof really get me.

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On our walk toward (a failed attempt at) brunch, we stopped by the bakery that had won the 2011 award for best baguettes in Paris. Sadly, they were closed. However, three storefronts down the road we stumbled upon the 2010 winner (which we had not previously researched), and grabbed a couple. Here is me in my best Parisian-with-baguettes pose:

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These baguettes were the best bread I've ever tasted. I can't really place it--the 2012 ones were great, too, but these just seemed a little more nuanced and a marginally better texture. We ate one baguette in Paris and brought one home.

We then walked to our pre-researched brunch place, but it was totally full that day. (We love the culture of going out for breakfast/brunch, which doesn't really exist in Aachen, despite it working against us this time.) So we carried on our walk to a second-tier lunch restaurant we had found, Le Petit Cambodge, a Cambodian restaurant. This turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip. We had rice vermicelli bowls chock full of veggies and beef--something like Bowl'd in Albany, CA, but with noodles in lieu of rice. We also snagged a fancy "Cambodian" dessert: sliced bananas cooked in coconut milk topped with toasted peanuts. This was awesome. So light yet satisfying, we make this one at home with some regularity now.

We walked down to l'Orangerie museum--a small gallery that focuses on late 19th and early 20th century paintings that you can really get close to. A highlight was the temporary exhibit of works by the Belarusian Chaïm Soutine. His expressionist portraits were particularly delightful, as you can see here.

Just before our return journey, we stopped by one more chocolatier: SIP. (It's just called "SIP".) I think this one was my favorite of the trip: a balance between the under-flavored JPH and the overly rich Angelina. Sara still preferred the Angelina to SIP. However, we agree that our US favorite--Jacques Torres in New York (of course with a French name)--holds its own with, and perhaps surpasses, its Parisian competition.

All of that and we've still only scratched the surface of Paris, though after the second visit it feels like a good scratch. We had previously seen the Eifel Tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre, and the Rodin museum, and our culinary tour of Paris added to our love of the city. We spent a huge sum on eating all of Paris, but it was totally worth it--definitely one of the best Thanksgivings I can remember.


Sunday, September 9, 2012

Take Me to My City by the Bay

After our tour of the Big Apple, we boarded a plane direct from JFK to take us to the place that is perhaps more home to us than any other: Berkeley. Pamela (Sara's mom) and Laura (Sara's sister) greeted us at the airport (with tears), then Matt (Sara's dad), who had been doing church-related things, greeted us at home, then Julia (Sara's other sister) came home from a musical she was at, again with many tears. Much to our delight, Merry, the dog, hadn't forgotten us and didn't seem too angry at us for our extended leave of absence.

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I think that nothing tastes like being home like the taste of Zachary's Pizza. Deep dish spin(ach)-mush(room) and a thin-crust pesto, please.

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I had the chance to meet up some of the Young Men from the church congregation we attended in Berkeley, with whom I worked very closely for over two years and whom I adore. We met at my favorite Albany (town bordering Berkeley to the north) taqueria, Gordo's...

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...then headed into Berkeley proper for delicious gelato at Naia.

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Left to right: Jayson, Brian, and Albert (fondly known as Al-bear). Awesome to see all of you guys again!
Following our reunion with the family (and Laura's boyfriend Jamie), we celebrated the Meldrum-Marostica summer birthday season for the second time with a stack of presents to open.

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Among other things, Sara got this fascinating book. You'll have to ask her about it someday.

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Late that Friday night, we drove the 3 hours from Berkeley to the north shore of Lake Tahoe, the summer retreat for Marosticas since 1990 or something like that. We were so lucky that our trip to the US coincided so excellently with the timing of the Tahoe trip, especially since we'd moved to Germany just one week too early last summer and had missed our chance.

While there we hiked part of the Rubicon Trail, capturing the three lovely sistees on this rock along the way:

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Julia, Sara, and Laura, all in a row.

The rock and its surroundings were so picturesque that we all stopped for couples shots.

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Laura and her much-discussed boyfriend, Jamie, on his first Marostica Tahoe week.
If you've never been to Lake Tahoe in the summer, you should go. It's absolutely beautiful. The lake is known for the clarity of the water (sometimes clear in excess of 60 feet and, in former days, up to 100 feet), and it's just so blue. The alpine setting is gorgeous, too. This picture is also from the Rubicon Trail.

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One of the many Tahoe-week traditions includes brunch at the Old Post Office on the last day. Since we were leaving before the last day, we rearranged our schedule and went on Sunday morning instead. As usual, visiting the Old Post Office usually includes severe pangs of hunger (this time demonstrated by The-Agony-and-the-Ecstasy-Laura)...

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...and the near-ritualistic newspaper reading. Julia usually gets the comics first.

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Some members of the extended Marostica family attend the Tahoe festivities regularly, including our awesome cousins: the builder

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and the superstar.

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We saw lots of friends in Berkeley and at Tahoe, too, including the Wests, the Gurilngs, the Parkinsons, Elisa and Krista et al., the Spencers, and the Ritzmans. With that crowd one can't help but have a great time, which we did. (And a big shout out to the Parkinsons for letting us use their house during our pre- and post-Tahoe nights.)

We took one family picture from the "heating hill," our regular spot on the beach that is just perfect for warming oneself prior to a dip in the chilly alpine lake, a rousing game of Kubb, or just taking it all in:

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Our trip to the USA to visit family was awesome. We felt so relieved to be with people that we have known and loved for years rather than simply months, the language came so naturally, and the food was so delicious. It was certainly tough to come back to Aachen (especially with the dread of 24 hours of travel), but the trip was totally worth it. I think this picture of Julia and her friend Adri perfectly captures our feelings about coming home: ebullient.

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Sunday, June 10, 2012

German Drinking Games

A few months ago we received a tip from a friend and former resident of Germany saying that if he could have anything to eat from Germany he'd choose Döner Kebabs and Müllermilch. Döner you may have heard of--huge skewers of meat slowly rotating in a heater, part of which is shaved off into a bread sandwich with some salad and, if I have my way, a spicy sauce. Allegedly developed in Berlin and the canonical German street food, it's something that I like fairly well and that Sara tolerates occasionally. The Müllermilch is, as they say in Deutschland, total anders (completely different). We hadn't even tried one for a long time since they looked simply like expensive, flavored buttermilk in a bottle. Neither of us typically care for buttermilk, so we didn't bother. Until one day at the store, Sara decided to bring some home and we got hooked. This hooked:

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I may have gone a little crazy, but we decided to try ALL of the flavors one day. (We'd only tried one or two before, so we decided to got bold.) If you can't see the picture clearly, we have (left to right) strawberry, cherry-banana, banana, pistachio-coconut, coconut, and vanilla. And yes, those are little tiny shot glasses in front. (I searched until I found a pack of disposable ones, so we wouldn't have to buy 12 real shot glasses.) How was it?

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Sara struggling to keep a straight face.

Fantastic. (By the way, pistachio-coconut and vanilla are the best. And I recently discovered a buttermilk-ier version with lemon that is fabulous. Now we treat ourselves with Müllermilch whenever we lug groceries up the 79 stairs, thus countering any caloric deficit incurred by said lugging.)


Thursday, June 7, 2012

Italian Essentials: Pisa and Florence

Let's go back in time a bit (3.5 weeks ago now, wow!) to the beginning of our Italian adventure. We flew into Pisa mostly because it's close to the Cinque Terre, but in part because we wanted to see the Tower. I was struggling to remember even the most basic Italian phrases at this point (from the year's worth of Italian classes I took in college), but I did manage to come up with "Dov'è la torre?" ("Where's the tower?") I said it to myself as we powerwalked through the old town, but didn't actually have occasion to try it out on anyone else, as there were plenty of signs for the duomo and torre. This was our first glimpse of them.

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I find it very endearing that whenever the tower is framed by other buildings it looks like it's either leaning shyly out of the picture or poking its head in.
In person, it's rather disconcerting how much the tower leans. I was surprised by my visceral response. It just looks so wrong!

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We refrained from taking any cheesy tower-propping pictures. Mostly because it was raining.
The other thing I was surprised by was how beautiful the tower is. Its stones are not only clean and bright, they're also variegated and far more intricately carved than I expected.

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Even the base leans!
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Everyone forgets about the cathedral (the Leaning Tower is just its bell tower, after all), but it's very beautiful, too. It was my first Italian cathedral, and unlike anything I'd ever seen before. We didn't have time to go inside, unfortunately, but we walked all the way around. It's big.

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The baptistry
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The front (facing the baptistry)
On Wednesday we went through Florence on our way to Perugia, and Tyler gave me a quick tour to get me oriented. (He spent a week there in the summer of 2010.) The next day I went back by myself and packed as much as I possibly could into eight hours.

My first, middle, and last stop of the day were all in the Piazza del Duomo. I'd seen pictures of the cathedral before, of course, but I still didn't know it would look like that. It's like Pisa's cathedral but much, much more so. I probably spent a good hour over the course of the day just gawking at the exterior.

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The dome was the largest in the world for centuries, and is still the largest dome ever built from bricks.
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I have no idea how I captured those rays of sun, but I'm pleased with them.
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In the middle of the day I went back to see the inside. Compared to that facade, it's not much to look at. Presumably the architects spent all their money on that fancy pink and green marble for the outside. The inside of the dome, however, is very cool--beautiful frescoes that took two different artists and over ten years to complete.

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Just one piazza over is another monumental building, the Palazzo Vecchio. It's really hard to take a good picture of because it's SO TALL. The top of the tower is 308 feet high. In point of fact that's only 13 feet taller than the top of the cathedral's dome,  but the effect is totally different. The cathedral is massive, of course, but the Palazzo Vecchio is all in-your-face with its great height.

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At the bottom right corner of my oddly-framed picture above is a reproduction of Michelangelo's David. The original (which used to stand there) is now in the Accademia, where I went later in the day. The towering Palazzo Vecchio dimishes David's effect, but inside the gallery he towers in his own right. In the hallway leading up to his plinth are several other Michelangelo statues in various stages of completion, which gave me a much more specific appreciation for just how much work it is to carve marble. From museum signage I learned that David's contemplative, even troubled look was a radical departure from traditional depictions of the young giant-slayer. The statue, completed in 1504, soon became a favorite of the Florentine people and a symbol of civic pride. [I'm too tired to integrate those two sentences any better with the rest of this post. /sounding like a textbook]

Earlier in the day I went to the Galleria degli Uffizi, where I saw works by Botticelli (The Birth of Venus!), Lippi, Correggio, and so many more. Perhaps my favorite thing about it, though, was the ceiling decoration. Sadly, there was no information about them in the museum and I'm struggling to find anything substantive online, either. The frecoes are whimsical, grotesque, never-repeating, endlessly inventive. Lots and lots of breasts. I wish I had pictures for you, but photography is verboten inside the gallery. Here is the outside, however.

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And here's Dante, looking devious.

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The following picture shows much more than a lovely building, something much more significant. It shows the home of Grom in Florence. Tyler led us straight there on our first brief jaunt into the city. Two years were not enough to confuse his internal Grom compass. Grom is a gelateria of surpassing excellence that luckily has a home in Perugia as well. We ate at the Perugia store more times than I care to count, but this is the place I had it first. My first Grom flavors were dark chocolate (the most perfect dark chocolate ice cream I have ever tasted) and Crema di Grom, an eggy gelato with corn cookie crumbles and chocolate chunks. It tasted like Argentina, though I couldn't say why.

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Late in the afternoon I finally made it to the banks of the Arno. Although the water itself does not bear close examination (scary!), the view of the hills rising on the opposite side, crowned by more churches and palaces, is incredible.

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My last touristy stop of the day was the Ponte Vecchio. (Although this sounds like a very fancy name, it simply means "old bridge.") The fronts of these buildings--the sides that face toward the inside of the bridge, that is--all boast windows full of the most elaborate jewelry I've ever seen.

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On my way back to the train station I made my third visit in two days to I Due Fratellini, a tiny sandwich shop frequented by real Florentines for its amazing food and incredibly low prices. I shall close this post by listing the sandwiches I ate there. I've got a serious hankering for one right now.

1. Fennel-infused salami with soft goat cheese
2. Pancetta and marinated bell peppers
3. Fresh sausage and eggplant