Reflections on Paris

Reflections on Paris

by Victoria Challancin

OK, dear readers, I realize these aren't reflections "on" Paris--as a former English teacher I do get that.  I'm not really musing here on Parisian life, Parisian culture, Parisian history, nor on the French themselves.  I should probably call this "Reflections In Paris" instead.  But Paris is reflected in these photos...in subtle ways, in larger swaths.  Many photos are planned to give a glimpse of a multi-faceted fragmented world.  Others are happy accidents, caught on the spur of the moment as one of those fragments caught my eye.  But any way I view them, I see that they are all reflections of me, of how I filter Life, of what I see through my specific visions, of how I sort out my being, my place in the Universe.  Life reflected in my lens.  Life reflected through my eyes.

Marie Antoinette's personal teacups, floating in the air...

Want to reflect on Paris in your own personal way?  

Join me on my next tour:

April 9 - 16, 2011

or

October 22 - 29, 2011

Contact me at flavorsofthesun@gmail.com for more information

Victoria Challancin

Flavors of the Sun Travel

French Apéritifs and a Recipe for Kir

French Apéritifs and a Recipe for Kir

by Victoria Challancin

I am a bit of a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.  Always have been.  Which is perhaps why I so easily embraced the idea of an apéritif early in my life when I was lucky enough to live in Paris.  While I realize that there exist civilized American-style Happy Hours, the idea of the typical US bar fare of hard-liquor cocktails served with heavy snacks just doesn’t appeal to me.  Of course, I realize that there are many options in America, that mixology is a sophisticated science, and that a margarita with nachos or buffalo wings may no longer be the norm.  Bear with me; I haven’t lived in the US in over 35 years.  But one drinking concept that I do “get” is the idea of a gentle apéritif, a light stimulant to the appetite, served before dinner with an equally light snack...that’s another matter altogether.

While the enjoyment of a pre-dinner apéritif is not unique to France, that is where I learned to enjoy that time-honored tradition of stimulating the appetite before a meal, usually dinner, with light food and drink coupled with equally stimulating conversation.  And in France, each of these, the drink, the food, and the conversation is taken to the level of Art.

Since I recently returned from Paris and am writing about all things French, I will focus in this blog on the French apéritif, or apéro, as it is fondly called.  But that is not to say that the Italians, the Spanish, the Greeks, and others don’t accomplish the same thing with their own versions of food-drink-conviviality.

In France the range of apéritifs is vast and might include cognac (though some would say the high alcohol content might actually dull the appetite), champagne, and fortified wines and liqueurs.  The last two might include vermouth, Pastis or Ricard or another anise-flavored drink, Lillet (my personal favorite), Chartreuse, and oh so many others, including regional variations.  And, of course, Kir.  Let us not forget kir.

Kir is a traditional apéritif, created in France and served all over the country--and all over the world.  It is made with chilled (very chilled, but never iced) dry white wine, often a Chablis or other White Burgundy, and a blackcurrant liqueur called crème de cassis.  The latter adds a sweet, but never cloying, touch to the dry wine, which need not be a fine wine either as the taste of the liqueur will mask the true taste of the wine

To make a kir at home: 

In France, it is generally served with proportionately more crème de cassis than I make it at home.  A typical ratio in France might be 1 to 3, or one part crème de cassis to 3 parts wine.  At home, I make it with less liqueur, but this is entirely a matter of taste.  Normally, the liqueur is poured into the glass first so that it mixes easily, followed by the well-chilled wine.  Start with a one to five ratio and go from there.  You can always add more liqueur if desired—or even more wine.  It might not be the authentic way to approach the making of this aperitif, but taste demands that you concoct exactly what most appeals to you to suit your personal preference.

My Version of Kir:  I don’t generally measure, but simply put a splash of creme de cassis in the glass and then top it with the cold wine.  But if a recipe is required with proper measurements, then here it is (this makes it s 1 to 8 ratio):

Ingredients:
1 tablespoon crème de cassis

4 ounces of cold, dry white wine

Preparation:
Pour the crème de cassis into a wine glass and slowly top with the well-chilled wine. No need to stir.

Variations:  (to name but a few)

Kir Royale:  Dry champagne with crème de cassis

Kir Violette:  White wine and crème de violette, a violet-infused liqueur (this one was new to me on this trip)

Other fruit-liqueur variations might include: Kir mûre (blackberry),  peche (peach), lavande (lavender), verveine (lemon verbena herb), fraise (strawberry), myrte (myrtle) and so on.  .

Kir Bourgogne:  Red wine with crème de cassis (I’ve also seen this called a Communard Cocktail or Kir Cardinal)

Kir Imperial:  White wine with raspberry liqueur (often Chambord), sometimes simply called Kir Framboise (or à la framboise)

Kir Pétillant:  made with a sparkling white wine, not champagne

Kir Breton or Kir Normand:  Sparkling cider from either Britanny or Normandy with crème de cassis

Kir Poire:  (I actually made one of these on the flight from Mexico to France by adding a small bottle of Poire William--a pear eau de vie-- to my pre-dinner white wine)

  

Santé!

I am Monet

When I was in Paris in early September, before going to Istanbul, I was titillated by this poster at the Grand Palais.  And yes, I was able to see this incredible exhibition of almost 200 works by Monet while in Paris.  But this story is about what happened in Istanbul, before I took in this amazing exhibit.

No, I didn't paint this, though I certainly wish I had                                                            Painting by Claude Monet

I Am Monet

by Victoria Challancin

Okay.  I'm not Monet.  I can't even really paint.  But I do admit to having had the great Master's spirit course through me recently while I was in Istanbul.  You are incredulous?  Just read a bit more and feel a touch of empathy.

It all started a few weeks ago when I stood on the balcony of my hotel in the Old Quarter of Istanbul, gazing at the famed Blue Mosque, with the changing waters of the Bosphorus shimmering behind it.  I took it in again, as I had so many years ago, swallowed its size, absorbed its beauty, allowed its majesty to permeate my being as the call to prayer washed over me, reminding me to connect with my essence, with my Source until the bare facts pushed through my musings, momentarily nudging lofty thoughts aside:  

Fact:  The Sultan Ahmed Mosque (Sultanahmet Camii, in Turkish) was built between 1609 and 1616.  Fact: It is known as the Blue Mosque because of the blue Iznik tiles which adorn the interior walls.  Fact:  Mimar Sinan was the architect.  Mimar Sinan...the architect I admire most...Fact:  Architectural details include more than 200 stained glass windows, domes, semi-domes, columns, hexagons, tiles, and a mihrab (a niche in the wall that points the way to Mecca, the direction of prayer for all Muslims) that was decorated with a jade rose and gilt, and so much more.  Fact: It faces the Hagia Sofia, presenting an eternal dual of complimentary, yet differing splendors.  Fact:  It has six minarets (considered presumptuous at the time, sparking the powers in Mecca to add a seventh minaret to the great mosque there).  Fact:  It has the funny elements of a squat Byzantine church graced with soaring minarets--grounding us to the Earth, lifting us to the Heavens.  Fact. Yes, so many facts.  Facts that do little to suggest the majesty of the structure, the moving beauty of its totality. 

So why Monet, you might rightly ask?  Why indeed?  It's the light.  The magical, ethereal light that bathes this incredible building throughout the day:  that kisses it at dawn, bathes it with brilliance at mid-day, shrouds it with mystery in the mist, softens its edges at dusk, makes it glow, perfectly lit, at night.  If Monet had been here, he would have painted it at every hour of the day, breaking that light into fragments that still held together the whole, that still conveyed the majesty, the magnificence of its dignified simplicity.  No, I am not Monet. I am just a visitor...a visitor with a point-and-shoot camera, a woman on a balcony with stars in her eyes, desperately trying to capture even a fraction of its splendor and what I feel when I gaze at its loveliness any time of day.  

Art lovers know well the various series that Claude Monet, father of Impressionism, painted in different light:  Rouen Cathedral, the Banks of the Seine, Gare St-Lazare, the Houses of Parliament (UK), the Haystacks, Waterloo Bridge, the Japanese bridge, and, of course, the waterlilies at Giverny.  In each of these series of paintings, Monet obsessed about the light, the changing weather conditions, the colors and   the meaning, the metaphor behind them all.  That is what I felt in Istanbul, standing alone, looking at true majesty, silly camera in hand...not an artist.  And just for a moment, a fleeting blip in time, as I processed even fragmentally what I imagined Monet might have felt as he worked, I was eternal, an artist making her mark, processing the Universe in color, light, movement, and space.

Stay tuned...I will be announcing my next tour with Flavors of the Sun Travel to both Paris and Istanbul very soon.

Part II: What Does One Eat in Paris? Les Snacks...

Part II:  What Does One Eat in Paris?

Les Snacks...

by Victoria Challancin

Lest you begin to think that every meal in Paris involves multiple courses and wine, there are always quick snack options--or at least lighter fare.

Shwarma anyone?  Fresh, cheap, portable...

Crepes?  Sweet or savory, eat at table or take away

The remnants of a paper-thin Breton-style crêpe, or gallete, made of buckwheat flour, stuffed with Gruyère cheese:  Galette au Fromage (Note:  My son, who studied his last year of high school in Brittany in France, still eats these for breakfast!)

Slightly more upscale than the street versions, this croque monsieur shows what the French can do with a simple grilled ham and cheese sandwich  (Hint:  Use good-quality Emmental or Gruyère cheese)

Not only did I have the opportunity to practice my Arabic, I was also able to enjoy some classic Levantine food in a favorite street market

Freshly-made pita bread drenched with olive oil and za'atar spice blend--cooking on a domed grill (check out an older post on Sumac and Za'atar here)  Yum...

Affordable fallafel in Paris?  You bet!  And this deserves it's own post...coming soon!

Part I: What Does One Eat in Paris? Les Entrees...

Mussels with a white wine sauce...

What Does One Eat in Paris?

Part I:  Les Entrees

by Victoria Challancin

I returned from Paris only a little over a week ago and I am still drooling over the food.  Even my memories are drooling.  Do you want to see why?  Scroll down.

Whenever I return to Paris, where I lived in the late 70s, I return to my favorite city, a place of mysteries, a place of comfort, a place of heavenly food.  As I traipse through favorite neighborhoods, a flâneuse on the loose, strolling along, absorbing through the senses, through the mind, I go back over and over to the places I love.  And if I revisit locales, I revisit food as well.  Let's begin with Les Entrees, the Starters.

An appetizer of Burgundy-style escargots, or snails, with a parsley-garlic butter sauce, complete with handy tongs and a special fork

A salad with smoked duck gizzards, les gésiers de carnard fumé?   Bien sûr!

A pork terrine served with cornichons and mustard...and bread, of course, of course

A terrine again, this time with vegetables...

Frog Legs:  My Southern Mom fried them, and the were WONDERFUL, but there is nothing wrong with with a touch of white wine, parsley, and lemon.  Definitely nothing wrong with this.

Gratinéed French Onion Soup?  Oh my, yes.  Over and over.  Sometimes with beef broth, sometimes with chicken, sometimes with both...French Comfort Food

A salad of über-fresh vegetables, a sublime French cheese, and a simple mustard vinaigrette.  And bread...yes, yes, yes

With fresh fennel this time...

Mussels again?   You don't even want to KNOW how many times I ordered these...

Escargots again as well?  You can never eat enough escargots!  Just ask my son, Zachary Popovsky, who names it as one of his top three favorite foods, along with Shepherd's Pie and  Head Tacos from Mexico.