Don't ask why but several times in the last couple of weeks, I have had the privilege (ahem) of attending multi-course French banquets—fish plus meat plus dessert with undocumented starter and closer plus (once) a separate cheese course.
It was all astonishing and done with great craft and care but—well for one thing, the food, although good enough, never quite lived up to the preparation. If you come from California (or New York), the truth is you just don't have to go to France for great food.
Marcella Hazan has a theory about French culture and French cuisine. She says that the French are a public people who are into display; the fanciest restaurants tend to be the best. Italy, by contrast, is a homebound culture, and the best cooking is simple and direct: find good ingredients and make sure not to get in their way.
This afternoon in Paris, we shopped the street market on the Rue Mouffetard. We picked up lettuce and tomatoes and cheese and a nice light Rhone red. With a bit of that Arabic olive oil (see previous post) and the leftover breakfast baguette, we had about the best meal I've had in two weeks. OH, and anchovies, did I forget to mention anchovies.
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