France: The Tea Shops of Paris...Dammann Frères, Kusmi Tea, Le Palais des Thés, and Mariage Frères

In Paris I spent as much in tea shops and tea salons as I did visiting patisseries and boulangeries. It should be no surprise. Coffee is great, but tea is magical.

And Paris was oh-so-perfect for that reason alone. We turned into every tea shop we could find, never leaving without something, no matter how small. First there was Dammann Frères along place des Vosges. High ceilings, dark walls lined in tea, loose leaves and packaged, just calling for attention. It's a love affair for both the tea and the packaging, and I admit that I could not fall for one without the other. In NYC I order Dammann Frères online (they have the best Peppermint) or walk to Salumè in Soho where they sell brewed tea by the cup. But here, just look at all the options available within arms reach. I wanted to pick up the contents of the shop and move it straight into my apartment.

A short walk led us to Kusmi Tea...hello Prince Vladimir and Four Red Fruits! Kusmi Tea actually has a retail shop on 3rd Ave that opened early 2010, though I frequently purchase their teas at the Soho Dean & Deluca's near my apartment.

We just may never return to coffee after this ;)

There was more tea with every turn...Le Palais des Thés around the next corner (NYC's Tea & Honey carries a small selection of Le Palais des Thés, including the popular Thé du Hammam)...

...and Mariage Frères just a few streets away. Heaven? You betcha.

It was here we settled into the bright and airy salon - complete in colonial decor, for an afternoon respite. Waiters dressed head to toe in white linens, skylights above, rattan chairs, and potted palms.

A menu of over 500 teas, a sweet and savoury food selection, most of which is tea-inspired. Hot teas are served in an insulated white porcelain pot, milk and sugar on the side, presentation is everything. Teas are brewed to order, with the flannel filters removed prior to serving, ensuring that your tea is never too strong. Marco Polo for me and Lapsang Souchong Impèrial for him.

Directly across the street Mariage Frères has a shop where one may purchase loose leaf teas and tea-related products. There's even a tea museum upstairs. I went straight for the Tea Jelly, offered in select flavors including Earl Grey and Marco Polo. I had eyes lusting for the Darjeeling Impèrial. Finally! A jar of my own.

Back in NYC. A fresh Sullivan Street Bakery striato, smears of soft butter and the musky and sweet darjeeling jelly. It's a frigid 30F outside today, and I'm staying in all day long with this breakfast...and hot tea of course.

France: La Mosquée in Paris

Tuesday afternoon at the Grande Mosquée in the 5th arrondissement.

It's the largest mosque in all of France...and the third biggest in the Europe. Impressive, no? Well, Monsieur P and I didn't actually go into the mosque. Instead we visited the attached tea salon, Café Maure. You enter through the courtyard, a picture perfect sight of people chatting away at low tables with teas and sweets. We went further, opting for indoor seating in a colorful room, North African in design, complete with tiled ceilings and tables and plush cushions. Transporting to say the least.

Waiters cross the room pouring hot glasses of Sweet Mint Tea from high above, a show in itself. The glasses are small and it is far too easy to drink away the steamy, spicy concoction. They are 2 euros a glass, which seems like a good deal at first. But pay attention or you may find yourself sipping away more than planned!

With the tea, you will undoubtedly crave sweet, so head for the glass counter to oogle and pick from a variety of Arabic desserts. Point to as many as you wish and the gentleman behind the case piles them onto a plate, piece by piece, 2 euros each. There is Baklava, Kunafa and Basbousa, and at least a dozen others, all kissed (or soaked!) with honey or wrapped in layers and layers of phyllo. Semolina and nuts! Lot of nuts. Almonds, pistachios, walnuts, hazelnuts, you name it. Spun, crisp, and soft. Not easy to decide when everything looks the same and different all at once. My eyes settled on a corner piece of Pistachio-Semolina Cake, honey-soaked, and dusted in coconut flakes. A dessert fork, one more cup of mint tea, and we may deem the afternoon a success.

La Mosquée
38 Rue Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire
75005 Paris, France
01 43 31 38 20

France: Days and Nights in Carnac, Brittany

While in France, Monsieur P and I took off to Brittany for a few days. We stayed in the family's Carnac beach house and rolled crepes for breakfast. "This is how you do it," he helpfully instructed. Apparently I didn't know how to correctly apply salted butter to the crepes. "Little even dabs," Monsieur P noted as he looked over and frowned at my method of eagerly slicing hefty butter chunks onto the crepe, heheh.

It was also important to fold the crepe correctly. It's first folded into quarters (a very large crepe to begin with!) and then butter is applied straight down the middle. Next you fold the right side to the middle, and do the same with the left. Once you have a thin, long triangle, you roll it all the way lengthwise from the right side to make what's essentially a crepe-stick. Monsieur P preferred his with butter alone while I was most happy with an even combination of butter and salted caramel. He made the espresso and I poured the orange juice.

Or other mornings we had baguettes with more butter (even I was impressed by how much butter we went though during our stay here!) and a fantastic fresh apricot jam by Monsieur P's mother.

And sometimes we'd even venture out for breakfast (though it was so cold I preferred to stay in with a cozy sweater during the mornings). A plain ham galette for me...

...and an egg and cheese for him.

For lunch we'd walk to a local restaurant, always partaking in deep bowls of Moule Frites and Oysters, a beer on the side.

We visited in the off-season, so only a few places were opened for business. It was quiet and wonderfully peaceful.

Afternoon walks on the beach? Check! A visit to the Carnac Stones? Check! And then ice cream too! That's Mint Chocolate Chip on top, but the focus here is Salted Carmel, which as you may expect, was insanely wicked and borderline too salty. But it hovered on the side of just right, with the full-bodied, smokey, slow dripping salted caramel oozing over the top. Look how it shines. Seriously!

Monsieur P's brother was thoughtful enough to stock the beach house kitchen with jars of salted caramel, and I smothered the sweet affair on top of everything I could get my hands on...

...cookies, crepes, palet bretons (buttery cakes, cornbread-esque affairs), and baguettes. Or even better, a finger dipped straight into the jar.

Monsieur P had fond memories Chez Marie, the oldest creperie in town and one his family frequented during the summer when he was a child. "We must go!" he declared. Three hours later, we drove out to Chez Marie and indulged in no less than two crepes a person. We learned that management changed since Monsieur P's last visit over a decade ago. And post-dinner the two brothers concluded that the food simply wasn't as good as they recalled. Or perhaps what's stored in childhood memory will always be more delicious than reality? Who knows. It was still good enough for us to have a wonderful night.

This was my favourite combination from dinner - eggs, ham, cheese, and anchovies! I noticed that many of the other tables had this same combination but with mushrooms in place of anchovies.

For dessert, Monsieur P kept it simple with a butter and sugar crepe...

...while his brother had a crepe of sliced bananas, oodles of salted caramel and fresh whipped cream. My goodness!

I went the Banana Flambé route, done table-style...

...with a personal tower of whipped cream on the side. Heheh, indulgence yes, but the atmosphere begged for it! A cold evening, wooden tables, a stone building, and many mugs of hot cider.

Today, it's a windy 35F in Manhattan, a Sunday afternoon, and there's not one decent creperie to be found! France literally feels like another world away. Alas, I'll make do with a latte and croissant from Ceci-Cela. In two weeks I'll be in warm Hawai'i to visit home and family, and then back again in Manhattan for Christmas and New Years. Am looking forward to trying all the new Honolulu restaurants that have cropped up since my last visit!

France: Gérard Mulot, Poilâne, Pâtisserie Stohrer, and Angelina

All appointments canceled on a day like this. The weather! Can you believe - hail?! And crazy wind, one more time. There first sight of snow for 2010 was recorded in Central Park this morning. I had my scarf tied so tight and high, round my neck, mouth, and nose...it was a wonder I could see where to walk!

Take me to Hawai'i where the sun is bright and I can indulge in malassadas and fresh mochi (lots of mochi!) all day.

Or even, Paris. At least there I may feast on marshmallows, aka, Guimauves from Gérard Mulot. Kiwi, blueberry, orange, and strawberry! Monsieur P didn't even bat an eye when I insisted on having guimauves for breakfast.

No he did not. Instead, he spoiled me with more sweets.

"Croissant, my dear?"

And no more than ten minutes later, "perhaps a Chausson aux Pommes?" Boy, does this fellow know the way to my heart ;)

And he also knew that while the Chausson aux Pommes from Gérard Mulot was lovely, it was the Chausson aux Pommes from Poilâne that was AMAZING.

Yes, amazing. Buttery, golden, all those sweet apples, still warm and tucked into that flaky crust. We had one, two. And then back the following morning, again, one, two. The single best habit we developed on that holiday.

A short metro ride took us to Pâtisserie Stohrer in the afternoon for...

...Puits d'amour. These little gems literally translate as "wells of love." How precious is that?

It all makes sense when you bite into layers of puff pastry and sink your teeth into sweet depths of vanilla bean-speckled custard, soft and cool with a crackly top of golden caramel.

We couldn't help but pick up some Chocolate Marzipan on the way out, heheh. They were delightful to nibble on at the cafe, a glass of wine on the side and book in hand.

But we mustn't forget to stop at Angelina...

...one Mont Blanc to share please! Yes, that is all cream. Good glory.

Alas, there was no room for their famed hot chocolate, but that is alright, Monsieur P promised we'd be back soon enough ;)

[For a little more sweet something:
the Pierre Hermé post]

Gérard Mulot
76 Rue de Seine, 6th Arr.
01 43 26 85 77

Poilâne
8 Rue du Cherche-Midi, 6th Arr.
01 45 48 42 59

Pâtisserie Stohrer
51 Rue Montorgueil, 2nd Arr.
01 42 33 38 20

Angelina
226 Rue de Rivoli, 1st Arr
01 42 60 82 00

Paris: Les Fines Gueules

This was my favourite meal in Paris. Les Fines Gueules.

The food was utterly fantastic, yes. But it was also the cozy, almost rustic setting, that special corner location near place des Victoires and the weather that particular day. Pouring, and I mean pouring rain outside, black skies and the craziest wind.

Big sweaters, black boots and a knitted scarf. A table for two and glasses of rose. May I stay here in Paris forever? First came a salad of vibrant, sweet and ripe Local Tomatoes simply outfitted in chunks of parmesan, olive oil, fleur de sel and black pepper. It was like Otto's Heirloom Tomato salad gone minimalist and all grownup.

Then a dish of Boudin Noir Ravioli to share. Two luxurious pieces, bathed in a shallow bowl of finely seasoned Veal Broth. The pasta is housemade - silky and impressively thin, housing a meaty filling of boudin noir, the bold and creamy blood sausage offering faint, lingering notes of nutmeg.

And finally, the tender Filet de Cabillo. Oooh, you should have seen how the Cabillo skin peeled off the flaky fish, really, the most wonderful part, crisp with sprinkles of fleur de sel. A bed of steamed Mussels and Spinach, and foam - Parmesan for just the tiniest indulgence.

Cafe express to finish the meal as we waited out the rainstorm and vowed to make endless return visits. Next time, the steak tartare!

Les Fines Gueules
2, rue la Vrillière, 1st

France; Pierre Hermé. In Paris...

...we ate sweets, all day and all night. Early morning wake up in the cool air, and a jaunt to nearby Pierre Hermé where even Monsieur P's jaded eyes were won over by colorful rows of macarons, chocolates and picture perfect Ispahans and mille-feuilles.

Croissants were on the agenda, both a fine original and a decadent Ispahan croissant, the latter donning a glazed exterior flecked in crushed rose petals, and an interior filled with rose marzipan and raspberry and lychee gelée.

With goodies in hand, it's only a block away to Café de la Mairie, where they gladly allow you to devour the pastries with a daily café express.

But don't you forget, man cannot live by croissant alone! That's why there is canelé! At Pierre Hermé they were thoughtfully arranged next to the croissants (and to the left of gingerbread brioche, which will get to later ;), like little soldiers, each one a vision of perfection. Dark, caramelized crusts, and a creamy, custardy interior dotted in vanilla beans. I deeply regret not tucking away a dozen in my suitcase for the return trip to NYC.

Would you like to see the interior? Apologies, it's somewhat ragged looking and doesn't do the canelé justice. Monsieur P had bite, I had a bite, and only then did I think to take an interior photo!

And here is the brioche! Gorgeous, no? Not simply any old brioche, but one with a finish of crunchy chocolate pearls, and paired with a gingerbread and banana-kissed marzipan.

Almost, to beautiful to eat.

That, for us, was Pierre Hermé in the mornings. Pierre Hermé in the afternoons were a completely different affair. After lunch and lots and lots of shopping, we'd duck back into the comforting arms of the patisserie for our afternoon goûter.

For what in particular? Macarons, of course! The Olive Oil + Vanilla Macaron was the unanimous favourite, and featured a sliver of salty green olive at the very center...

...my love affair however, was surprisingly not with macarons, but the Deux Mille Feuilles, which translates to "2000 Feuilles" and is truly a magical creation. Layers upon layers of caramelized puff pastry, with a trio of fillings. At the bottom, luxe chocolate cream, rich enough to border on ganache and studded with hazelnuts, then a thin layer of praline right above and finally, whipped hazelnut praline cream closest to the top. Yes, swoon.

I'm about thisclose to successfully convincing Monsieur P that perhaps we need to/should/would love to return to Paris again this winter. After all, we've utterly failed to find a remotely comparable mille feuille (much less deux mille feuilles!) in NYC. Wouldn't you agree that's reason enough?

Pierre Hermé
72, rue Bonaparte
75006 Paris
+33 (1) 43 54 47 77