And Now, I Bring You: The Importance of Nice Flatware - signed The Anti-Chef

This perfect fork is part of the Vicenza line I invested in from Guy Degrenne Paris. It looks like a harp and is perfectly balanced.

I love my table knife, but I
I am disappointed with the logo
showing.

Baby, I may not know how to cook food, but I sure know and recognise the beauty of a properly designed fork. 

This brings me to share with you my passion for nice flatware. I was introduced to flatware or 'cutlery' at a very early age - my Mother, not wanting to let me near the kitchen, designated the setting of the table as my job. I loved our Christmas' and Thanksgivings, that's when she brings out all the big guns. The gorgeous crystal - 4 glasses per table set (Champagne, white wine, red wine, water), individual silver salt and pepper shakers, porcelain serviette holders and silver swan knife rests to name a few of her treasures. 

These days, as we approach our thirties, many of my girlfriends are also getting ready for the big day - and many will be adding flatware to their wedding registries - but I say, don't wait until a man proposes to buy yourself a nice knife and fork. It's something you put in your mouth for Pete's sake - it should at least be how you like it. I would go further with that thought, but this is a G-rated blog. (wink).

Moving on. Flatware is also referred to as 'utensils' - but being a musicienne, I like to refer to them as 'Instruments'... So, the question is, "Would you buy a piano from Ikea?" No. Well your fork shouldn't come from there either. Invest in nice flatware, and you'll stick with it for at least 10 years. 

When making your selection - think about the woman.. the woman has dainty, small hands, the woman has a small mouth (generally) so no use in buying aggressive looking forks and big round spoons that hurt or overstretch the insides of your cheeks. And don't just look at the pieces, hold them, see how how they catch the light, and feel the weight and smoothness of the tool in your hand. 

Because at the end of the day - a lady will give the same attention to your flatware as she does to your overcooked chicken.

'Pure and slender' , my gourmet knife steak shows its personality through its tensed and round lines.' Seriously. It does. 

The man - will likely not even notice the fork or knife and will just dive into the food. 

Two years ago, I invested in this Guy Degrenne flatware featured here - they don't call it 'art de la table' for nothing. Another favourite is Christofle - but their 'Instruments' tend to be on the bulky side. 

While I'm at it, I also suggest a mirror finish - it looks very elegant under candlelight. 

When testing violin bows, I look for something strong, balanced, durable, straight and not too light nor too heavy in my hand. I apply the same rules when investing in flatware.  

Franck's Soupe à l'Oignon (French Onion Soup)

Yesterday Franck had a long day, travelling to and from Versailles for meetings, and so, I thought - tonight, I will cook for my cheri.

Like the loving wifey in training, I flashed an assured smile and clutching a list marched my way over to the grocery, repeating over and over in my head my mantra, "Grocery shopping is still shopping and can be fun."

The evening's menu: Franck's French Onion Soup... the day had been cold and grey, and soup always makes things better. Right?

WRONG!!!

Next thing I know, I'm in Franck's Kitchen, tears streaming down my face, literally sobbing my eyes out trying to get through cutting 7 onions.

It turns out that this whole 'onions make you cry' saying is not a myth!!! 

Try cutting onions wearing contacts - it's just impossible. Franck took one look at me, the vision of patheticness, swooped into the kitchen, swapped my knife with a glass of cold, white wine, shooed me out of his kitchen and finished the onion soup himself. 

(Note to self - if I want to get out of cooking, crying works.)

Feeling guilty, I made a salad and added an avocado to be exotic. 

As per usual - the soup was great, anyone who knows Franck can attest that his cooking is divine. 

Here is his recipe. If you're wearing contacts, I suggest switiching to glasses prior to cutting up the onions. Or just get someone else to do that job. 

Franck's French Onion Soup

Serves two with leftovers, maybe more, I mean it depends how much you eat.

4 big onions or 7-8 of the puny French onions

50 grams of semi-salt butter

a soup spoon of flour
1.5L water

salt, pepper

bread - grilled

shredded cheese 'Elemental' - lots of it

Melt the butter in a cocotte minute (pressure cooker)

Add the cut up onions
Add the water and the salt and pepper

Sprinkle the flour

Turn the pressure cooker to 'One' and when it starts to whistle, turn the heat down and let it cook for 15 minutes

In the meantime, grill the bread in the oven, then add to the soup which is now in the bowl

Add the shredded cheese and put back in the oven for a few minutes.

Pair this with a bottle of cold, white wine, we chose a Saint-Joseph 2009, and summer heels. Anna Dello Russo tells us that we should wear evening clothes during the day; I say, when the weather outside is yucky, wear a pair of summer heels around the house.  

Summer heels and flower patterned pants, the perfect antidote to a soggy September day in Paris.

Roberto's Piccata Limone

After last week's risotto fiasco - I decided to go for something a little safer. Luckily, I have a guardian angel in Montreal named Roberto (a musical genius and a member of UNIVERSKA, who understands that "I am just trying to do my best people!" So he suggested Piccata Limone, with a prosciutto and bocconcini entré and limoncello for desert.  

Mozzarella with Prosciutto di Daniele - an easy entré full of gorgeous Italian products.

Simple enough. For the entré I wrapped mozzarella (not di bufala, I know, such a shame but my grocery store is very 'less than') in Prosciutto di Daniele (very thin, just melts in your mouth, plus the name of an old boyfriend, so the choice was easy) and sprinkled some fresh mint on top, added olive oil, balsamic vinegar di Modena, freshly ground pepper (Ok, that's a lie, it wasn't freshly ground) and VOILA.


I served this entré at quarter to eight to avoid any crankiness on Franck's behalf. Then I was back in his kitchen to work out the rest. 


I started with no-fuss 'mash' salad. Chopped up some chalot, red wine vinegar, virgin olive oil, salt and pepper (the pepper might not be ground but the salt is freaking A-mazing, the caviar of salt, otherwise known as: Gros Sel de Guérande) and the mash. I can't find 'mash' on the Internet, but it's some kind of green plant that grows in rivers and can be used as an alternative to lettuce. 


Then I got started on the chicken. Now there were many recipes for Piccata Limone that I found online, and all were different.. so I used the ingredients that I am familiar with and made my own:

demi-salt butter
1 big garlic clover
3 chicken breasts (anticipating Franck wanting seconds)
flour (don't ask how much)
pepper
salt
white wine (don't ask how much)
lemon juice (a few squirts, whatever, how are you supposed to measure this??)
1 lemon
chopped parsley

I put a few slices of butter in a pan, melted it. Then I threw in the chopped garlic and let it cook at a low heat. Following this, I covered the chicken breasts in the flour, salt and pepper mixture... which was fun - but made the kitchen a mess. I put the chicken in the pan and let it cook for one minute on both sides then I took the chicken out, cleaned off the pan, added lots of lemon juice, white wine and chopped lemons and put the chicken back, added parsley and cooked until it was done.

In the meantime, I boiled water, put rice in, took that out, and put everything on a dish and served.

I accompanied this dish with a 2009 Muscadet, a fresh baguette, and Franck's grin. He took one bite - and I kid you not said: "See bébé, I knew you weren't handicapped."

As for desert - Roberto had suggested limoncello, but I'm not at Dad's house, so we don't have that in the freezer. Instead, I served fresh goat's cheese from Touraine (apparently THE place for goat's cheese), more baguette - and everyone's favourite, a Heineken. 

Not sure if beer is the appropriate desert drink - but I have never met a man who said - "No, I don't feel like a beer." So I think it's safe to serve at any time.

And now for the BEST part, I did all this wearing my favourite Sergio Rossi's probably the happiest shoes I own!

Aren't these Sergio Rossi's divine? I found them in a little shop in Cairo years ago and they still make me smile.

...And More Macaroons

Pierre Hermé for Van Cleef et Arpels waiting for me on the bed in my hotel, Place Vendôme, Paris. Because nothing is more luxurious than staying in a hotel in your home city. Except maybe these karat gold dusted macaroons.

Dinner at Raquel and Mathieu's

Raquel's homemade macaroons.

Last night Franck and I were invited to our friends Raquel (Brazilian) and Mathieu's (French) for dinner. While sipping our caipirinhas (can't make those either, which is unfortunate), the subject of Franck's Kitchen arose and I quickly realised that when you have a food blog, people offer up recipes, start talking about how they braise chicken (no idea what that means), and use exotic ingredients like rosemary, basil, and thyme (???) like I know what they're talking about. Imagine me explaining to you how to play chords in D minor. It's the same thing. While nervously slurping the end of my drink, with a blank look on my face, my eyes wondered towards the soft colours of Raquel's homemade macaroons. Disengaging myself from the conversation, I snapped a picture of these goodies for my blog. I didn't ask for the recipe, because who am I kidding, that's way to advanced. For those of you not aware, macaroons are a sacred desert in Paris. Thanks to Ladurée, a definite stop during your next stroll down the Champs Elysées.


Speaking of rosemary, my girlfriend Julie - creative director of Circo de Bakuza was also over and was totally choqué when I told her I didn't know what 'romarin' was. So today, in my quest to become a better woman, I looked it up. Even though I'm probably the only person who doesn't know what rosemary is, I thought I would provide 23 fun facts (hahaha) about about it anyway. Courtesy of Megan Saurus from Herb Gardening Centre. 

Rosemary - otherwise known as 'dew of the sea'. That's random. 

1. The name of Rosemary originates from the Latin word rosmarinus, meaning "mist of the sea" or "dew of the sea".
2. Rosemary is part of the mint family, together with Basil, Lavender, Oregano and many other herbs.
3. Rosemary can easily grow to five feet.
4. Rosemary has small, pretty bluish-purple flowers.
5. Wild Rosemary can be found along the sea cliff along the coast of Italy, Greece, Spain and France.
6. In the 16th century, Rosemary was often burned in sickrooms as disinfectant to kill germs.
7. Ancient Greeks believed that Rosemary was a magical plant that could strengthen memory.
8. Rosemary sprigs are traditionally scattered on the grave to show that the beloved family member would not be forgotten.
9. During the English Tudor era, Rosemary symbolized fidelity, and brides would give sprigs of Rosemary to bridegroom as a tradition.
10. In the old days, Rosemary has been used as an herbal medicine to relief gas, toothache, headache and even baldness.
11. Rosemary has been named Herb of The Year in 2000 by the International Herb Association.
12. Dried, well-preserved Rosemary is able to retain most of the flavor and fragrance.
13. For culinary purposes, Rosemary is often paired up with lamb as its bittersweet, nutty flavor is excellent in counterbalancing the richness and fattiness from the meat.
14. Distilled Rosemary oil can be poisonous in strong doses.
15. Rosemary is also used as an aromatic herb and its extract can be found in tinctures, bath oil, hair rinse, and insect repellent.
16. The best time in planning Rosemary is early Spring or Fall.
17. Overwatering is Rosemary's biggest enemy.
18. Rosemary can be used as an edging plant.
19. Rosemary is quite difficult to grow from seeds.
20. Rosemary can be easily propagated by cuttings.
21. Rosemary loves well-drained soil with pH of 6.0-7.5.
22. While Rosemary is extremely drought-resistant, its seedling should be watered regularly until its root system is matured. This usually means one year of regular watering.
23. Rosemary attracts bees - a pleasant surprise to any herb and vegetable gardeners!

Risotto, the Aftermath

Where do I begin, as you all know, yesterday I ventured into Franck's Kitchen and made risotto. I figured I was a shoe-in, how hard could it be, rice, broth, stir, vino, eat. Not so... 
First of all, I of course waited until the last minute (20.30) to do my grocery shopping; Franck, getting hungry insisted on coming to make sure that I brought home the right ingredients. Luckily he did though because it turns out that groceries can weigh A TON. 
So, I've got a pair of serious heels on and I'm about to start cutting up the peppers when Franck starts second guessing: 

Franck, "Bébé, are you sure about that pan, ...do you want me to help you boil water?" 

Me, "Honey, if you want to help, I have a kilo of shrimp to peel."

Franck, "I'll pass."

Me (thinking-realising), never start to cook a meal for a hungry man passed his bed time. 

What I know: 10 inch heels are sexy and should be worn. Just because you're in the kitchen, it doesn't mean you have to wear slippers.

Once everything chopped - the problems began. 
I had forgotten that this was an American recipe and in Canada and the US, all fruits and vegetables are on steroids. So 'half an onion' really means two French onions. 
Next problem - the metric system. the French use one system, the Brits another, Canadians another and on and on... Other regions even like to mix systems together. 
So when the recipe called for 1 1/2 cup of rice and 12oz of scallops, I had no idea what they were talking about. I can understand 'pint of beer' and 'glass of wine' and 'second helping please' but that's where it ends. Well, I can also understand 'one sugar or two' ...but 'OZ'? I already know we're not in Kansas anymore.  (hehe, had to say that) 
All my ingredients in the pan, I started stirring, and like you probably know by now, I was stirring for practically AN HOUR. 
IN HEELS. 
Ridiculous. (I'm referring to the stirring bit.)


Ok - verdict time. It looked great, but the first bite had no taste, it was too hot. A few minutes later, the risotto had cooled and Franck's first comments were the following:

Franck, "How many broth cubes did you put in?"

Me, "Two." (I lied - I actually put three, so one too many).

Franck, "Oooh it's salty."

Me, gritting teeth. 

Followed by silence.

Me: "Honey, you don't have to eat it if you don't want to." (fish was dry after having being cooked for an hour, it was a bit too salty and there was a tad too much broth taste... as for the peppers, you could see them, but that was it.) 

Franck:  "No, it's great mon bébé, thank you for making this dish, why don't I give you a foot massage afterwards." 

Me, SCORE!!!!!! 

What I Learned: 
1) If I cook, afterwards Franck will clean while I put my feet up. 
2) I know what risotto rice looks like and that it takes an hour to cook.
3) Always take a man with you when going grocery shopping for the heavy lifting.
4) French fruits and vegetables, like the cars, are puny, but probably natural.
5) Take your left over parsley and put it in a glass with water, it looks pretty. 

What I know: Only the freshest parsley should be used to cook with or garnish, but left over parsley can look great in a vase for a few days. 

For any of you who want to try this recipe from Under The Tuscan Gun, here it is:
(Worth giving it a shot because there's a video and Gabriele is nice to look at, and he has a Florentine accent. Yummy!)
I accompanied this dish with Pinot Grigio d'Alsace and a Macon Villages, both 2009, to the tune of a World War II documentary that Franck was watching. 

What I know: If you have crystal, don't wait for the in laws to be over to take it out. Enjoy it. Gorgeous stemware is a fetish of mine, and here is one of my white wine Bavarian Crystal (every piece is hand made) glasses. Just make sure that you never put these in the dishwasher.

Ingredients:

1 ½ Cup of Risotto Rice
½ Red Pepper
½ Orange Pepper
12 Oz of Shrimps (fresh or frozen, cleaned)
8 Oz of mixed calamari and scallops
½ Yellow Onion
2 Cloves of Garlic
1 Handful of Parsley
½ Cup of Dry White Wine
1 Cup Organic Vegetable Broth
2 Tbsp of Butter
Olive Oil, Salt, Pepper and Red Pepper

Chop very fine the Onion, The Garlic and the Parsley.
Wash well the peppers and slice the halves very thin.
In a non-stick pan, on a medium-high flame sauté’ the Onion in about 2 tbsp of Olive Oil and 2 Tbsp of Butter, sprinkle some Red Hot Pepper, and after the first couple of minutes add the Garlic; stir constantly for about 2-3 minutes.

When the Onion starts getting golden, add the Shrimps, the Scallops and the Calamari. Cook for about 5 minutes, letting the water of the fish become sauce with the oil and the butter. Add the Peppers and half of the chopped Parsley, stir well, and cook for another 5-7 minutes.
Rinse the Rice and add it into the pan, stir well and let it absorb all the water (sauce) there is in the pan…then add the White Wine. Let the wine itself get absorb, and put your nose to work…when the alcohol smell is gone is time to start adding the Vegetable Broth.
Keeping your flame on a medium, add the broth little by little, never making your risotto too wet.

From this moment on you can refer to the cooking time indicated on the box the rice comes from: it is very important to reach the time mark with a risotto that has the right consistency. At the very end, if you need to cook it for a few extra minutes, add a little bit of water at the time, and bring your dish to the perfect point.

Serve your new fantastic recipe with some sprinkled Parsley and a drop of Olive Oil.

*Debi and Gabriele, Under The Tuscan Gun

Pepper and Seafood Risotto: Comme ci Comme ça

23.00, it's ready. I've been stirring this for so long that I don't even feel like eating it anymore. Taste? Mediocre.
Franck agrees. Sigh. Recipe to come tomorrow, at your own risk.
Then again, I never said I could cook.

.

The recipe said cooking time, 18 minutes. 22.40 and I'm STILL STIRRING THIS NONSENSE. My arm is killing me! Tomorrow I will only be doing the arm weight workout with one arm. Left arm is asking me WHY?!? Franck's is sulking in front of the TV. It's never going to be ready. Add broth, stir, add broth, stir. MOVING ON PLEASE! 

After much procrastination, at 22.00, I started cooking. Looks colourful, I'm feeling confident.
Franck's hungry and doubtful.

It's been a long night, but I did it - I cooked the risotto, like I said I would... it was 'OK'. Tomorrow I will give you the full report, in the meantime, please enjoy these images and my frustration.

The Other Initial Inspiration: D's Kitchen (Blog #0)

Three Fairy Godmothers? Dalia from D's Kitchen and mastermind behind the renowned Kitsch Cupcakes (far right) making it all look so freaking effortless.  Make me a believer! 

Before I get on about Under The Tuscan Gun, I should share with you that the person who really gave me the proverbial kick in the butt into Franck's Kitchen was a lady by the name of Dalia. For the latest issue of Unfair Magazine, we decided to do a food page and gave it to Dalia, the chef behind D's Kitchen AND the famous Kitsch cupcakes. Like any journalist, I did my homework and that's how I ended up on her food blog. 


Gasp - Dalia was not only beautiful, a successful entrepreneur, with a bundle of gorgeous friends and an adoring husband... but she also cooked.. and appeared to enjoy it (?!?).  After warning her that we didn't want a page full of recipes (because if we don't cook, do our readers?), she wrote us a fantastic guide on what to order when at the restaurant. BUT I admit, that after visiting her blog, I was intrigued. So one night, I ...drumroll please... COOKED PASTA.


Yes! I actually made a pasta sauce, and it was delicious. Now - I don't expect it to turn out right every time, but this time it did... and even though I iron my man's shirts every Sunday and clean the house head to toe (because surprisingly, I love cleaning and find it therapeutic) when Franck ate his pasta... he gave me those googly eyes and said: "Thank you baby." Ok, it was more like, "Merci mon bébé, chérie d'amour" (oh the French). That's right ladies, you can change the sheets 100 times, and fold a trillion loads of laundry, but sometimes it takes just cooking your man a meal, for him to be grateful. This revelation, brought to me on the wings of D's Kitchen is what really launched this blog. I'm not sure where it will take me, but Franck is happy - thus far anyway.

Blog #1: "Under The Tuscan Gun" with Hotties Debi and Gabriele

They have a book - but like I said before, I have a fear of cookbooks, no matter how cute the cover.

Gabriele and Debi from Under The Tuscan Gun. I find it easier to cook if the people guiding me are good looking. Yes I said that, and no it doesn't mean I'm shallow.

It's a rainy day in Paris so I figured I would take this lazy Sunday to see what kind of food blogs are out there. I have found one that seems unpretentious enough: www.underthetuscangun.com - it's a food blog created by the hot couple: Debi and Gabriele (he's Italian and she's American). Basically, the story goes that when Debi married Gabriele, her Italian in laws 'put the gun to her head' (metaphor) for her to get her act together in the kitchen. 

I think that next week I'm going to attempt their Peppers and Seafood Risotto, there's a nice video that accompanies the recipe and it calls for a cup of white wine - so if things get really bad, I can always try and mask any unwanted taste with alcohol. I'm already getting nervous about it though, apparently there are many different types of rice, and many different ways to screw up risotto. I'm sure I'll manage to create some new ones. Already I'm anticipating putting too much broth, and ending up with a rice soup. 

I always assumed that making rice was like cooking pasta. Boil water, add rice, drain. Voilà. Apparently that's not the case.

I know what you're thinking: You've never cooked rice before! No, I haven't (and so what!). But in the coming days, I will face my fear. 

Stay tuned as I dive into unknown territory: cooking risotto in Franck's Kitchen.

XX, Caterina, the Anti-Chef

Welcome To Franck's Kitchen!

Ok, so this isn't really Franck's Kitchen, it's my dream kitchen borrowed from the House Obsession. Since I am so freaked out by the idea of stepping into a cuisine - I might as well envision one that makes me feel comfortable: small, and simple, with lots of light, warm flooring, and touches of green. Now that we're inside, pour yourself a glass of Chianti as I explain.

I've grown up surrounded by food - or should I say cuisine. When my Mom fell in love with my Dad, a purebred Italian, she learnt all his favourite recipes and probably coined the term, "The key to a man's heart is through his stomach." We grew up without a microwave, a garden growing oregano in the backyard, freshly baked cookies in the morning, and 'Agnello In Crosta' at night. Rather than watching Mom in the kitchen, I was off taking violin lessons, ballet lessons, swimming lessons, ad infinitum. Twenty-three years later, I could play Vivaldi's Four Seasons but didn't know how to read a recipe, and truthfully, didn't care to. 

Then I met Franck. Now, we all hear lots of stories about women putting on the apron and cooking a great dish for their man, but in my case, I might as well have been back at Mom and Dad's because every night when I would come home, for five years, Franck would have dinner waiting. Franck is French and we live in Paris - so when I say dinner, I mean this: a bottle of wine (or two), great table settings (Ok, that's me), a first course, a second course, always accompanied by a fresh salad, and an assortment of cheese for desert. 

Fast forward to the present. I'm twenty-eight years old and we're newly engaged, I'm deputy editor of a magazine, co-founded and manage a fantastic collective of international artists, got a dog, called him Emile, and I still can't cook. Except that now, I want to. 

Kinda.

Even though for years I have been hyperventilating at the thought of entering a grocery store, I have tried to convince myself that 'grocery shopping' is still 'shopping' and therefore can be fun. And since cookbooks scare the bejeezus out of me, (I have issues with people who mix numbers with words, just ask my old finance professor) - I have decided that out of love for my fiancé Franck, once a week, I will scour the net for a food blog and try a (beginner) recipe, and cook dinner for my man, in heels. Because if stilettos give me that extra boost of confidence in the boardroom, then it should work in the kitchen too, right? 

Please join me as I dive into unknown territory: Franck's Kitchen.  
Wish me luck. 

XX Caterina, the Anti-Chef