I Should Have Seen This Coming

I've made a big decision: I'm leaving France!

BUT. Of course, France is really doing her best, now that my mind is made up, to woo me back. She's rolling out the right weather (my ideal, in fact: Hot, humid, and sunny), for starters, which encourages everyone to put on their fun hats again and start making merry. 'Tis, at long, long last, the season of open-window dinner parties, cool drinks at terrace cafes, and festive picnics with food, drink, and good company aplenty.

A lotus-and-guppy garden.

Today, the gorgeous Emily of Paris Paysanne hosted an afternoon picnic at her community garden, which happens to be the coolest thing going in all of northwest Paris. The jardin started more than a decade ago with one "squatter"--a renegade green thumb who saw a fine patch of unused city property beside some abandoned railway tracks and decided to grow stuff on it. Today, it's a legit operation funded by the City of Paris and run by an association called Les Amis des Jardins du Ruisseau.

Ten points if you can spot the kale in this photo.

For the price of a decent bottle of wine, you can become a member of the garden community and make use of this pleasant urban green space. Tables, chairs, chickens, and bees are among the many things you'll find here. You'll also see some colorful shared-garden plots (each is the "property" of six gardeners) brimming with edible and ornamental goodies. I'm going to join, even if I won't be here long enough to enjoy it year-round.

Today's gathering included a few bloggers like Emma from Burnt Cream, Kristen from The Kale Project, and my wonderful friend Terresa from La Cucina di Terresa. I'm going to miss these gatherings of smart, interesting, accomplished women (and men) when I'm gone. I think today's lesson, if there was one, is not to pine for losses yet to come, but to really make the most of all this city has to offer while I'm still here. I'm doing that, beginning today!

Emily''s an up-and-coming author who's specialty is Paris markets and organic cooking. I can't wait for her first book!

No one fully understood what the chicken story was, but I can tell you they are extremely cute and woolly, and really into personal hygiene.

One of my favorite Parisians, the lovely and talented Terresa of La Cucina di Terresa.

Shady tables, murals, greenery, and nice people=best community garden EVER.

Vegan alla Italiana

I met up with Paul at Ten Belles yesterday--easily the sunniest, warmest day so far this year--to talk creative projects over a good cup of caffeine-saturated drip coffee. It was my first time at this hipster cafe, where everyone, including the studly Australian barrista, looked like they sauntered off the pages of Paris Hipster magazine. (Has anyone started that yet? I think it would sell.)

The meetup was productive and the coffee was tasty. I didn't expect them to have any vegan options on the carte, but I went ahead and asked Studly Australian Dude (SAD) anyway, and he just cocked his head to the side and repeated "vegan?" back to me as if he'd never heard the word before. OK. That's alright.

But while Paul and I said our goodbyes on the trottoir outside the cafe, the word "vegan" chalked onto a sign next door caught my eye. I resisted the urge to grab SAD by his arm and drag him over to his neighbor's sign. Instead, I window-licked for a minute (that's what the French call window-shopping), then popped into Carmen Ragosta for a good look.

Head downstairs to the artist's atelier .

It was love at first sight; cute dog? Oh, hell yes. Effervescent Neapolitan who speaks to me in hybrid English-French-Italian? Mmmhmmm. Fabulous clothes, too. And vegan shoes in candy colors. And yummy smells wafting out of the ... kitchen! This is where dreams magically erupt into delicious reality. I mean, is there anything more enticing than the thought of eating vegan tiramisu while shopping for one-of-a-kind dresses, capes, and jackets?

I stayed for a good half-hour, chatting with Carmen about her life and her art and ideas, and when I found out she was open on Sundays, I promised to return the following day to taste her home-made cuisine, sip a glass of Montepulciano, and fondle some more of those delectable Melissa shoes that call out from every corner.

I love those pink-and-red Melissa shoes.

An arty vibe permeates every inch of space at Carmen Ragosta.

A beautiful bloom decorates each table. 

We rolled up to Carmen Ragosta on a gray and nippy Sunday, slightly sleep deprived from the previous night's festivities but hungry and excited to branch out of our usual weekend habit and try something new. Carmen was surprised to see us, "I deedn't thinka you would-a come-a, because-a it's so, how do you say, not-a very nice outside."

We sat down, and didn't order, because you don't do that at Carmen Ragosta; you eat what Carmen cooks. If you're vegan, you get a lovely plate of food that might include risotto, seasonal vegetables, unusual salad combinations (yam and fennel? Interesting! And miamy.), savory croquettes, and bread. If you're vegetarian, you have the option of having cheese sprinkled over your meal, and, maybe an extra thing or two that has cheese inside, like eggplant Parmiagiana.

Pretty clothes representing the colors of late winter and early spring.

The plat du jour: Risotta with beans, a savory croquette, braised endive, poached pear, and different salads.

I loved my lunch, which (as is nearly always the case) I didn't think would be filling when the plate was first set before me. My favorite component was the braised endive with almonds and raisins, cooked in a balsamic reduction sauce. (I think.)

Pippo, the friendly, heat-loving dog-of-the-house

For dessert, we had espresso and tiramisu. I'm a total newbie on the tiramisu front, but I loved Carmen's version--a creamy, not-too-sweet melange that tasted of coffee, Speculoos, and vanilla.

This is what vegan tiramisu looks like.

The vivacious, friendly, and talented Carmen, on her way to her magic kitchen.

Do you remember these bags from high school?

I have to thank Alcyone Wemaere, the author of Paris Vegetarien, for turning me onto this special place. And I have to apologize to all my girlfriends who didn't get to do vegan Italian when visiting me in Paris. When you come back for another visit, I'll take you here!

The Cafe Pinson Experience

Steamy windows and all at Cafe Pinson.

The cafe's whitewashed back dining room.

Pinson means "finch" in French. I never did figure out the connection between the name of this new organic, vegetarian cafe in the too-cool north Marais and the petit oiseau, but it definitely doesn't have anything to do with "eating like a bird"; come here for Sunday bunch and you'll waddle out the door like an overstuffed penguin.

My friend Sophia and I tried to squeeze in the first week Cafe Pinson opened, but that was a futile experience. It was standing room only that Saturday, and so thick with hungry people that the big picture windows sported a curtain-like layer of opaque moisture. We thought it best to let the shiny veneer of novelty wear off before giving it another shot. A month later, with a noon reservation, Jeff and I arrived to find a much more relaxed, less damp and frenetic atmosphere inside.

A little inside-looking-out perspective.

The lady in the silver jacket slipped on a giant fur coat as she got up to leave. That's something I never thought I'd see in a vegetarian restaurant!

Right away, we noticed the professionalism of the staff. Smiling (in Paris! For real!) and attentive, we were seated within five seconds of giving our name to the bespectacled hostess. Our table for two in the back dining room where was already adorned with the entree pour deux: slices of soft, chewy bread and three little dishes of homemade tartine spreads: Banana-lime, chocolate hazelnut, and "butter" made from coconut and almond oil. (The chocolate was my favorite, followed by the butter. Neither of us really knew what to make of the banana spread.)

Breads and homemade spreads.

The chocolate-hazelnut spread was to-die-for yummy.

A dreadlocked server arrived within a minute of us sitting down and explained the brunch menu: Two courses--one salty, one sweet, both with vegan options--, all-you-can-drink coffee and tea at the front counter, and fresh-pressed juices for an additional six euro. Jeff went with regular ol' veggie (they serve eggs here, but no dairy), and I went the normal vegan route.

We filled our coffee mugs and immediately set to work stuffing our faces with the delicious bread (served in a little brown to-go box) and spreads. We got seconds, then thirds on the bread. It was that good. When our meals arrived, we gave it the skeptic's once-over; how was this bowl of daintily-proportioned goodness possibly going to sate us two gluttons?

Modestly proportioned and deceptively filling. 

The cooks' quarters.

The no-fuss brunch menu.

Where Jeff had a poached egg, my plate had a white-bean spread. Where two savory madeleines were tucked into his celery rave-parsnip puree, I had chia-sesame triangles. The most exciting thing on the plate, visually and otherwise, was the kale salad (KALE SALAD!!!) with fennel, carrot, and pumpkin seeds.

Kale up close!

Everything tasted pretty damn good. Simple, but good. And, as usual, there was no salt or pepper on the table, but it didn't really need anything. (Though we did talk about how, at home, we'd have doused everything with hot sauce, red pepper flakes, salt, pepper, and nutritional yeast. And that would've been just the start.)

Between courses, I introduced myself to the chef, who I recognized from Pousse Pousse, the raw vegan restaurant in the 9th where she worked until being wooed over to Pinson. She, in turn, introduced me to Agathe, the owner, who was dining at a nearby table. She was friendly enough.

Soy yogurt, house-made granola, and puree of ... ??

At last, our sweet course arrived. Mine, homemade granola atop soy yogurt. The granola was divine: crunchy, fresh, with lots of nuts and dried fruity-things inside. A fruit puree--apple? pear?--came along for the ride. Jeff got more madeleines--sweet ones, this time.

Madeleines: not vegan, sadly. 

This meal wasn't cheap--€50 for two, without wine!--but that's the going rate for brunch in the City of Light. It was filling, and tasty, and the service was really, really good. We got the feeling that we could have stayed all day and no one would have said a thing. We might have, too, if the coffee was better, but still, two hours was plenty. When this place ditches the eggs, it'll be perfect.

Worth every centime? Just about.

Supermarket Surprise

My latest find at Carrefour, a treasure trove of edible mysteries.

I popped over to the giant Carrefour market after French class on Thursday with one thing on my shopping list: Earl Grey tea. On the right side of the tea aisle sit rows of boxes and canisters of my favorite beverage; the left side is dedicated to all things "bio," or as we anglophones like to call it, "organic stuff."

On the shelf just above the chocolate-covered rice cakes, my eyes were drawn to a low-fi brown box with the words "Galette de Soja" on it. I was intrigued. I reached for the Mediterranean flavor (plain-sounding "vegetable recipe" burgers were the other possibility), flipped the package over and scanned the ingredients list--soy, eggplant, millet, olives--and discovered they were vegan. In my basket they went.

Vegan-approved ingredients list.

The burgers don't need to be refrigerated, which  seems a little creepy to me. 

I made them for dinner that night, following the cooking directions and baking them in the oven for 8 minutes. (It was also suggested that I could fry them.) They were OK. Not fabulous, but pretty good. The texture was ... soft and occasionally chewy, rather than totally firm like a Boca or Gardenburger patty. Jeff thought they were the best thing since ... Tofurky, maybe. "I wonder if you can cook these in the microwave?" he asked, and I could see he was imagining all the different burger possibilities for lunch next week. (Microwaving was not one of the cooking methods printed on the box.)

My burger tasted pretty OK with a bit of salad and a side of  beans.

Would I give them another shot? Sure. Maybe sandwiched between two pieces of baguette, with a slice of tomato and some lettuce, too. And fries. Lots and lots of fries.