le plat du jour

Though I do sometimes enjoy restaurant meals with friends--and love to photograph and write about them so as to relive the special occasion, I mostly cook for myself. Breakfast at home is simple: banana oatmeal; muesli with yogurt; yesterday's toasted baguette with butter, raspberry preserves, and a handful of almonds. Lunch and dinner are, too. I get into seasonal routines, cooking for one.

This past winter, the dish above was a favorite of mine. Broccoli and carrots were oh-so plentiful! And I'd make a dozen of these falafels at a time. Recently however, I've been changing the à la maison menu for spring's vegetables. This sautéed zucchini with feta cheese, capellini/penne with garlic, olive oil, lemon [and spinach], and this roasted asparagus, parmesan-poached eggs have been parfait. Up next, ratatouille with chickpeas. Have any go-to meals to share? La cuisine and I can always use more inspiration...

paris in bloom

As you've heard from myself (and possibly others), Paris has been enjoying the most beautiful spring thus far. Dare I say there's been more sun and blue skies than all of last year put together? Pollution aside, of course. The flowers are thrilled! And apparently, so are the ladies and gents of Instagram, who 'like like' the fleur shots most. I doubt this is news to anyone but an Instagram novice like I.

With that said, one of my most liked 'grams was entirely flower-less. I took it a few Sundays ago, after having asked Lorelei to meet me for my favorite meal of the week in her quartier. I'd heard so many good things about Mamie Green. (Un)fortunately, upon our arrival, we discovered the vegetarian resto was nowhere to be found. A new eatery had sprung up in its place. Or Bloom-ed, rather...

Bloom serves a delectable array of mostly Île-de-France-sourced products (read: local) and two brunch menus. We decided to share the sweet and savory at a table outside: dark roasted coffee, pressed beet juice, country bread, preserves, pain au chocolat, turkey breast, julienned vegetables, terrine, brie, tomme des Pyrénées (cheese), baked egg, delicata squash, lentil salad, and apple crumbles.

It was just about the best brunch I've had this year; though today's at my preferred bobo locale comes in a close second. (Sigh). Now, each time such a memory is made with friends, I can't help but think of how I'll refer to it in the not-so-distant future. "When I lived in Paris..." Fingers crossed life's got something that looks as pretty, smells as sweet, and feels as good in store for next season.

jambon de bayonne

Knowing an ancient port city only by the ham that originated there is nothing to be embarrassed about, right? Oh, good. That's a relief. Because it's ham that first brought Bayonne to my attention. Then my French friend reminded me how close it is to Biarritz.

So, Leslie and I went. And oh my is it beautiful with 2,000 years of history and heritage. I nearly considered how right Europeans are for teasing me that my home country is 'young.' But, nostalgia's tricky. So much of what we identify with is imagined as it is...

And someone might need another academia-break :) as such, let's re-live this glorious day in which we wandered down cobblestone streets, marveled at stained glass windows, tasted regional delicacies, learned about Basque culture, and purchased local products.

Leslie and I picnic-ed indoors with fish tapenade, pickled vegetables, spiced cheese, red wine, bread, and camera-shy ham that night.

querencia

“Lopez explains that querencia is a place where one feels secure, ‘a place from which one’s strength of character is drawn.’ In Spain, it is the place in the ring where the wounded bull goes to renew his strength and center himself, ready for a fresh charge. What a beautiful concept: ‘A place in which we know exactly who we are. The place from which we speak our deepest beliefs.’” -Juanita

Would it be too presumptuous to say I felt that way in Basque Country? Maybe it was the daily heart-to-hearts with Leslie, the extended chats with locals (read: I spoke French/Spanish well enough to be understood!), or, simply, the moments of silence we strolled alongside each other, taking in the sights and smells, occasionally stopping for a three-course gourmet meal with wine.

The first was Restaurant Léonie, where the impressively comfortable, contemporary atmosphere encouraged us to dine forever hours. We savored ham from nearby Bayonne with tomato-brushed toast, celery romoulade and crabmeat, catch-of-the-day sea bass with ham-roasted potatoes, baby cuttlefish atop lard and eggplant caviar, three local cheeses, and vanilla fromage blanc with speculoos.

And after decaf coffees and tea, we stayed even longer. Martin wanted to know how we'd heard about their modern bistro (LaFourchette), how we were enjoying Pays Basque (very much so), and where we'd come from. La chance to be studying in Paris, but wow, how he adores New York. Like so many others, he looks back on his visit fondly. He has a friend living in Brooklyn, too.

obrigado

They say your twenties are for being selfish. They fail to mention, however, how much living abroad amplifies the tendency. As much as it embarrasses me to admit, I'm not entirely looking forward to going home. I'm afraid to face the imperfections of the rest of my reality with the research timer on my master's thesis set and my Parisian life on pause. But, on particular days like this one, I'm especially reminded to appreciate these self-centered concerns. Because, really... how blessed can someone be to have loved ones unconditionally support her ambitions, to enjoy time and space to study her passions, to belong to more than one place? And, to celebrate her favoritest holiday multiple times before reuniting with family for the next two in New York. I'm thinking, very.

I met Phil and Tiphaine once, at the Kinfolk gathering; and for some reason they were kind enough to invite me to join in their Thanksgivukkah! Last Saturday, Sandra and I adventured south of Paris for a most unforgettable Franco-American feast:

Upon arrival, they served home-barrel-aged cocktails: a warm autumn punch made with bourbon and cider (my pick), and a seasonally spiced Negroni. Guests trickled in from near and far as the buffet table crowded with their generous contributions. To nibble during meets and greets, we helped ourselves to endive with blue cheese and local walnuts and wild rabbit rillette on toast.

Eventually, the Thanksgiving-Hannukah meal was served: green salads, latkes with apple sauce, deep fried/smoked turkey, stuffing (southernly referred to as "dressing" because it was prepared outside the bird), green bean casserole, lobster macaroni and cheese.

We digested with re-pours of wine until we were ready for dessert. My Belgian chocolate was nothing compared to the homemade pecan pie, chou au chantilly et potiron (pumpkin cream puffs), and an unexpected berry cake. Coffee, champagne, and a local porter aged on Fernet Branca barrel chips were served alongside. Phil and Tiphaine are obviously the best hosts in the whole wide world.

Eight hours later, I headed back to Paris with plenty of gratitude and leftovers. And I'm already excited for tomorrow's "Anksgeeving" dinner with grad school friends. Although I'm most definitely sad to miss my family's annual fête, I'm thankful for this new tradition, too. Oh! By the way, obrigado is Portuguese for "thank you." I'm especially fond of it because it's so similar to the Spanish abrigo (coat) and abrazo (hug). Happy Thanksgiving, friends! Let's embrace all that significance and share our gratitude generously:

• Donate to disaster relief in the Phillipines.
• Create a care package for a local homeless shelter.
• Send season's greetings to a military veteran, service member, or family.
• Recycle an old cell phone for global health.
• Make Thanksgiving possible for those less fortunate.
• Knit a scarf for a college student in need.
• Smile at a stranger; hug your parents; call an old friend; compliment a loved one; say merci, and really, truly mean it.

holybelly café

In times of hardship, it's important to remind ourselves that the pain and struggle is only temporary. Each coming day will not seem so dark nor so cold. The same is true of the sunnier periods, too, though. Saying so may seem pessimistic, but I think it's an important prerequisite to genuine gratitude. I've been concentrating on counting my present-day blessings now that I'm on the brink of another transition (internship --> thesis research). Let's begin with my first chocolat chaud of the season á la Holybelly, shall we?

To me, hot chocolate is cozy comfort materialized and sweetly made edible. I'm thankful, too, for evergreen-cool road trip stories, the daily possibility of stovetop apple-banana oatmeal, email reminders to download the latest New Girl or Grey's Anatomy episode, catch-up cocktails with girlfriends, falling asleep to really hard rain (an upside to Parisian autumns), unexpectedly good hair days, flirting while my heart flutters, clean clothes straight from the dryer, lazy Sunday mornings, countless inside jokes with coworkers, thoughtful packages from my parents, la chance to explore a new city for the first time (more details to come), and wine tasting, beer tasting, and chocolate tasting... all in the same week. I musn't forget to express my gratitude for Kinfolk gatherings either:

(Photo Credit: Hebe Wilson)

(Photo Credit: Hebe Wilson)

Photo Credit: Hebe Wilson

Photo Credit: Hebe Wilson

The Friday before last, I ventured to Holybelly for the first time. Lauren warmly welcomed me out of the humid-chill (a downside to Parisian autumns) with a cocktail of gin, cider, and, pear. I mingled with other friendly diners as I sipped. On the menu that evening: kale salad with hazelnut, fig, and fourme d'amberte, osso bucco served with wild rice aux trompettes de la mort, fruit pavlova, and apple tart. Multiple glasses of wine from Nico's family vineyard were enjoyed throughout. From these photos and description alone, you can probably sense how wonderful it was. What may not translate, however, is the very particular feeling borne from sharing a locally- and family-tradition-sourced meal with kind strangers just as passionate about these experiences as I am. The setting and atmosphere couldn't have been more perfect either. Lauren, Lise, Sarah, and Nico's talents converged beautifully at the latter two's café, now earnestly serving Melbournesque "delicious food & coffee" by the canal. After last Sunday's coffee date with Lorelei there, I'm looking forward to making even more convivial memories. So, so thankful. What's on your gratitude list?