So, this fall I had a business trip to Paris which I saw as the perfect opportunity for Frank and I to finally take that cooking trip to the south of France I’ve dreamt of my entire life. After a scene literally taken out of Planes, Trains and Automobiles we arrived at the 17th century country house of Patrick Payet, a former restaurateur who’s all too quick to inform you of his mention in Peter Mayle’s popular book “A Year in Provence” which, in all fairness, is a really great book, but horrible movie starring Russel Crowe and this little actress named Marion Cottiliard. (We unfortunately Netflixed this movie the week before we left in an attempt to psyche ourselves up for our adventure, instead we ended up bewildered and mourning our beloved Ridley Scott, who’s clearly gone soft.) Anyway, I digress…

Roussillon was unbelievable. We arrived in the town center to meet Patrick at dusk, my favorite time. We caught our first glimpses of the of natural ochre colored houses and pale pink and orange cliffs in shadow but we really had no idea what we in for. Patrick then led us up the worlds windiest road and bumpiest driveway in our most exhausted state only to find his kind French family welcoming us into their home with what else, food.

They served us fresh fish with pink peppercorns, perfectly roasted root vegetables and lavender ice cream. We laughed about their daughters complete distaste for cheese and how this is French sacrilege! We slept like babies. In the morning we opened our window to the view of an old converted ochre dye pool, ancient olive groves and across the valley we could see the fading ruins of the Marquis De Sade’s castle in the morning mist. We were totally speechless.

We went downstairs to start our day like any sane person visiting France would, with strong coffee, flaky, chewy croissants, baguettes, local jam, lavender honey, fresh fruit and yogurt.

After our carbo-loading extravaganza we sat and tried to absorb that rarest of commodities, silence. Every now and then our silence was broken by frenzied dog barking and the boom of a hunters gun in the distance. “Eet iz za seeezon for zee wild boar,” Patrick informed us. “Eez too baad for zem zey taste so good, no?” he grinned.

For a week our days were filled with fields of ripe Cavaillon melons lit by the sun, acres of apples and butternut squash being loaded into crates and hauled off to market and endless vineyards dripping with ripe, juicy dark purple grapes—the last of which we were lucky enough to eat right off the vine just days before they met their fates as the Languedoc regions vintages of the future.

I can’t wait to share the recipes we learned in Patrick’s wine-soaked provincial kitchen. I plan on breaking it up into several posts so as not to overwhelm.

Bon appetit!

While wondering through my new local Farmer’s Market in Larchmont Village last weekend I came across LUSH Pomegranate Juice. Eureka! I’ve been trying to find real pomegranate juice that: wasn’t from concentrate, didn’t have any other juices added and didn’t have any added sugar or high fructose corn syrup. Go ahead, next time your at the store, take a minute and actually read the labels of what’s in all those juices. It’s scary. LUSH is just pomegranate juice, water and potassium sorbate. It’s $5 for a liter, market special of 6 bottles for $25.

I was inspired that night and put together this little cocktail:

• 2 oz. Pomegranate juice
• 2 oz. (Belvedere) vodka
• 1 oz. Cointreau
• 1/2 oz. fresh squeezed lemon juice
• 1/2 oz. simple syrup

(Simple syrup is just a mixture of sugar and water. I keep some handy in a glass jar in the fridge.) Feel free to play with the amounts, I did; the measurements above are close though. Mix ingredients together in a shaker with ice, pour into a chilled martini glass and garnish with a lemon twist. Repeat as necessary. Enjoy.

I first tried Blue Tea at the Vital T Leaf in Seattle and loved it instantly. Blue Tea is actually a green tea, and a good source of polyphenols and antioxidants. It’s slightly bitter and sweet at first, and I get hints of smoke and tobacco as well. You can get it online at Vital T Leaf—a best seller.

A friend got some Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier (Original Schlenkerla Smokebeer) for us to have with some smoked pork chops (from George’s Market, of course.) Wow, easily one of the most unusual beers I’ve had, but it pairs well with smoked meat. It’s malty and sweet with a real strong Hickory smoke flavor. This one’s for sipping, maybe on a cold day around a campfire or cook out. It’s made in Bamberg, a town in Bavaria, Germany.

As luck would have it, Rachel and I pulled over in Calimesa, CA to get something to eat on our way to Palm Springs, that’s how we discovered George’s Market (German Style Specialties). George is the butcher extraordinaire and the shelves of his market are lined with thousands of imported goods from Germany. I’m not kidding, anything and everything you can imagine (and some things you can’t) are all here: meat, bread, sauerkraut, pickles, chocolates, candies, drinks, jams, desserts, cheeses, mustards, wine and beer—yes beer. (I’ll get to that in a bit.)

The first thing that struck us when we got inside was the crowd; the place was packed! Not only that, but several people came right up to us and told us their favorites that we absolutely, “had to get.”

I’m not joking, one man told us, “George’s bacon is the best! You have to try it. I brought it on my last camping trip and people were still talking about it on the way home.” Another said we had to get the Rye Bread while we could. “It’s delivered fresh twice a week and it always sells out.” They weren’t kidding either, it sold out before we could get to it. Someone told us we had to try the Smoked Pork Chops—which we did. “They’re the best, they will spoil you.” I can honestly say, I’ve had them, and they will.

As if all that wasn’t enough, the refrigerators along the back wall are stocked with hundreds of amazing German and Belgian beers. This is my Valhalla!

My litmus test for German beer is Weltenburger. This beer is from the oldest monastery brewery in the world, established in 1050. Yes, you read that right—1050—and I can never find it. When I see it, I stock up. Not only did George carry it, he has more varieties of Weltenburger than I’ve ever seen. I always stock up.

George’s Market has become a mandatory stop for us whenever we head out to Palm Springs now (sometimes we even stock up on our way back.)

George’s Market
1023 Calimesa Blvd, Calimesa, CA 92320
(909) 795-5320

A bunch of us (finally) got to try the dim sum at Ocean Seafood in Chinatown here in Los Angeles. We’d read all the great reviews and were ready to be blown away. I should preface that I’m from San Francisco, so I’ve had my share of dim sum—both mediocre and great. I was hoping for the later since I don’t make it home as much as I’d like.

There were hits and misses. Let’s start with the hits: the Har Gow (shrimp dumpling) and Char Siu Bao (BBQ pork bun) were both great. The Dow Sa Bow (sweet bean paste bun) and braised duck, not so much. In fact, the duck was served cold and was real fatty. I tried the Dow Sa Bow twice, neither had any bean paste in it.

The selection was kinda bleak too. Generally a steady stream of carts come by with a tempting array of goodies, not here. The same dishes came by again and again, and many never appeared (taro root anyone?) And the service…

Probably the worst service I’ve had in Los Angeles. Trying to end on a high note we asked for more BBQ Pork Buns not once, not twice, not three times—four times! Our party waited an extra 30 minutes. Nada. I finally had to go up to the register to pay the check, no one would come back to our table.

Proceed with caution.

Ocean Seafood
747 N Broadway Los Angeles, CA 90012-2819