Oh, Food!

My parents are visiting this week, which means I am in gourmet heaven. Not to say my parents served an amuse-bouche before every meal in my childhood, but I think a lot of my appreciation of food comes from my upbringing. Although they didn’t introduce me to blood sausage (I may never forgive the lost years of that potential indulgence), they did a good job with bringing unconventional cooking home: from dumplings to tagines, my mom was a regular at Williams-Sonoma.

Now that they’re in Paris, it’s safe to say we’re going absolutely fou over the food here. They came on Sunday, just in time for lunch at a French bistro, and dinner later that night was Moroccan/Algerian and essential crêpes at the Bastille. Yesterday we feasted on falafel in the Marais, then saw Notre Dame and had a boat tour of the Seine (to orient ourselves/rest our feet).


We then schlepped to the north (of Paris) to have some genuine Alsatian cuisine. Today, I unfortunately missed lunch, but dinner more than made up for it. We returned to the bistro scene, and nearly had to be rolled out of the restaurant. I collapsed on the bed in their tres chic hotel by the Pantheon, watching a dubbed version of The Incredibles, or, en francais, Les Indestructibles.

After that summary, here’s a blow by blow account of some of the excellent restaurants we’ve visited. Mind you, these are only the first three days.

SUNDAY
Lunch at Le Brasserie Balzar, a bistro in the heart of the Sorbonne university. My parents were jetlagged, so we skipped wine in favor of some cafes, which impressed them tremendously. My mother had a steak au poivre au point, and shared a plate of frites with my father, who had a succulent roast chicken. I had seared scallops on a bed of leaks in a delicious brown sauce that had just a hint of citrus. Addictive.

We went to the Bastille for dinner at Le Souk, which boasts its authenticity with barrels of spices lining the entryway and by dressing its waiters in Moraccan garb. My parents each had a tagine, my mother’s duck was especially sweet and savory, and I had a seemingly unending bowl of couscous, accompanied with a pitcher of vegetables in stock. Along with our meal the waiter recommended an Algerian red wine that was sweet, but not overwhelmingly so. A hit.

MONDAY
We went to the Marais and had falafel at L’As du Falafel, which had less of a line on weekdays. We walked across the Seine to L’Ile Saint Louis, and as it started to drizzle ducked into Le Flore en l’Ile, where my parents had two D.I.Y. hot chocolates, and I had a café with unbelievably rich dark truffles on the side. We also sampled some sugary macarons, and walked out of there visibly shaking. A puppet store on L'Ile Saint Louis that I really would like to get something from...


It was quite a walk to get to L’Alsaco, but probably well worth it. Now I don’t need to go to the Rhine to sample Franco-German food. Cute tablecloths and a painting from a fable on the wood. Alsacian beer called “Meteor.” Herring and a cold white cheese dish with onions and cumin called "Pikalakass." Everything came with a hot potatoe. Sausage, sauerkraut, and huge chunks of ham. Dessert was a blackcurrant pie for my father, a mirabelle pie for my mother, and some beautiful smelly cheese for me.


TUESDAY
Just dinner today, at a restaurant just around the corner from the Pantheon called Parraudin. More bistro faire: appetizers of chèvre profiteroles, sausage from Lyon, and escargot. My mother had lamb and potatoes gratin with a cheesy crust. My father had beef bourguignon. I had duck in a creamy, earthy mushroom sauce. Accompanied by a 2004 Medoc, which was simple and smooth. I got dessert despite my better judgement. My île flottante was foamy meringue peaks floating in a vanilla custard-y creamy liquid. My father had profiteroles filled with vanilla ice cream and drowned in a chocolate syrup that went perfect with my dessert. My mother had an apple tart in a thin crust of what looked like phyllo dough, topped with a tiny scoop of vanilla.

T+2:00 I’m still full.