Gray Day Greens Fix

The cafe's owner said he's trying to stay under the radar (and out of the blogshophere) so his cafe won't be overrun with backpackers!

Ever since I discovered that Kristen's Kale Salad was available at this newly opened cafe in the Marais, I've been wanting to go and get my greens on. I finally made it down yesterday and was so excited to see the gorgeous Emily from Paris Paysanne and Kristen herself sitting front and center right when I walked in.

"Quelle Surprise!"

After exchanging bisous, Kristen rustled up some salad, made specially vegan for me, and I sat down to join them for some conversation and healthy dose of laughter.

Kristen: pretty (and) smart!

Kristen has become a celebrity in the cutting-edge culinary scene here in Paris; besides making the pages if Elle and Glamour, and putting in an appearance on the Huffington Post, just yesterday she appeared in 20 Minutes, a French newspaper targeting the Metro-commuter set.  So exciting!

Emily's star is ascending, too. She's shopping around a book which will focus on her passions: Parisian markets and fresh, organic food. She's the Parisian authority on where to eat and drink locally-produced food and wine, and I always learn something new whenever I visit her smart, informative blog.

Dressed simply with olive oil and lemon juice, the salad was a delicious, pared-down melange of carrot, kale, and super-fresh raw almonds.

The kale salad was divine. Simple but flavorful and satisfying. This particular kale came from a small farm in Normandie. Kristen picked the stuff herself on a recent visit out west. Lucky girl!

A photo of one of Kristen's many success stories--a kale farm in Normandie that supplies the goods for the salads--sits on the counter at the cafe.

Before I left, I spoke with the cafe's owner, who, without knowing I might be a blogger, lamented the unwanted attention erupting out of the blogosphere. "I'm not like the other cafe owners who want to attract the masses," he said. "I want to keep the clientele local. I don't want it to be come overrun with backpackers."

Eeks!

Well, then. I won't say the name of this cafe, but if you really want some of Kristen's killer kale salad, you can message me privately and I'll give you the scoop. Or we can all wait for Kristen to expand her salad-and-chips enterprise to more cafes and stores across Paris. One can hope!

Blurry kale chips, anyone?

KALE, yes!

(You have to say it with a southern accent.)

There isn't much I miss about life in the United States, but kale is definitely one of them. Anyone within shouting distance has heard me lamenting the dearth of this beloved cruciferous green here in l'Hexagone. It's not like I haven't tried to source it, either. I've been to scads of markets and talked to oodles of vendors, half of whom had no idea what the hell I was talking about. "Kale? C'est quoi, ca?" or "Bah, non" were the consistent replies to my sad-eyed queries.

More than a year ago, my friend Nathalie suggested we go to an AMAP (Associations pour le Maintien d'une Agriculture Paysanne) event on Canal de l'Ourcq and talk to actual farmers to see if they'd be willing to consider growing it. One fellow expressed an interest, but only if we had enough people to make it worth his while. He needed a commitment of 30 people, which was about triple the number of people I actually new in the city. I gave up. I figured I could eat collard greens and gai lan--also known as Chinese kale--until I was back in the land of the red, white, and greens.

Back in June, on a trip to London, I picked up two bunches of kale (all I had room for) at a Whole Foods market and ferried them back home on the Eurostar. Reacquainting myself with this this old edible friend only amplified the longing for it; would it be reasonable to consider quitting France simply to gain better access to my beloved vegetable? The kale-obsessed quadrant of my brain said "oui."

Then, nearly without warning, un petit miracle: My friend and fellow expat Karin introduced me to Kristen, another kale-loving American. The difference between my love of kale and Kristen's is that this girl didn't just whinge about the no-kale situation; she actually embarked on a no-stopping-until-success mission she dubbed The Kale Project to bring the damn stuff to France. In September, her efforts made so many wishful thinkers' dreams come true: She got the farmers to grow it, and now it's being sold at a few outdoor markets in gay, gay Paree. Hallelujah! Praise Kristen!

Kale had its coming-out party at Verjus, a lovely little restaurant owned by a pair of (yep, you guessed it) expat Americans. The restaurant is the current darling of the Parisian "modern French" dining scene, and I'd wanted to check it out ever since discovering they'll do a vegan menu with a bit of advance warning. I gave absolutely no advance warning when I showed up asking for something kale-ish and vegan. (If you assumed, wrongly, as I did, that a kale menu implied there would already be something vegan, you would have been, as I was, saddened to discover otherwise.) The good news was that the wonderful chef busted out an impromptu kale gaspacho that totally exceeded my taste-bud's expectations. You really can't go wrong when you mix kale with heirloom tomatoes, smoked almonds, fennel, and onions.

A freelance reporter for the New York Times turned up for the event, as did a lot of pretty, blonde young things who look like they'd gone a long time without eating kale--or any other kind of food. But the star of the show was definitely Kristen, the kale messiah of the vegetable-loving Parisian masses. Where will I be this Sunday? At "church," otherwise known as the outdoor market, giving thanks for kale.