Okay, so to be perfectly honest, I’ve been back in the United States for a month now. I’m fully adjusted to the Pacific time zone, settled into my summer job and still trying to re-acclimatize myself to spicy food. But there is a great deal that I neglected to post about while abroad, and so I will attempt to remedy this in a few addendum posts. This is the first of them.

I am entirely obsessed with Victor Hugo. My fixation with the musical “Les Misérables” was the only reason I ever took French in the first place, and that was at the beginning of high school. As a result, during the scattered time I spent in Paris, I was determined to see as many Victor Hugo-related sights as possible. Here is a list of some high- and low-lights. (Click here to read more…)

Okay, so gelato isn’t a pastry. But, I haven’t been in France for more than a week now, so there has been a shorter supply of pastries on my life than usual, and besides, gelato is delicious.
My recent exposure to gelato was in Italy, which by the way is also cheaper and has better weather than France.

The Basics
Gelato is quite a bit like ice cream, but has a texture closer to sorbet, with less milk and sugar than normal ice cream. I find the fruit-related flavors to be better for this reason, but I’ve also had some quite good tiramisu and yogurt-y flavors

Where to Get it
Gelato is very popular in Europe, particularly during the summer months and in southern climates. There are also several gelato shops in Berkeley along Shattuck Avenue near campus.

How to Make it
Be forewarned that gelato doesn’t stay good as long as regular ice cream does, but the process of making it is quite similar, and outlined here.

Image Source: roboppy under Creative Commons

I took a short (well, not quite as short as originally planned, but more on that later) trip to Barcelona a few weeks ago. One of the first things I noticed (apart from the fact that everyone was speaking a different language) was the colors. Now, the French are stereotypically known for wearing black-on-black-on-black, and this happens to one of those stereotypes that actually holds true more often than not. All of a sudden people were wearing red, yellow and neon pink, to name a few.

I think this is one of the things that immediately made Spain feel more alive than France. (Click here to read more…)

Pastry of the Week is a special dedicated to exploring the world of French pastries, written by someone who enjoys eating French pastries.

While I will link to recipes when possible, I have neither the kitchen equipment nor the cooking skill to test any of them myself, so I cannot vouch for them.

A series of unfortunate transport events, which has involved being stranded in a different location each of the last two weekends, has kept me from my usual blogging schedule. However, I am back now, and blogging this week about croissants, perhaps the most quintissential and stereotypical of French pastries.

The Basics
Despite the fact that croissants are undeniably associated with the French, the early origins of the pastry can be traced back to Austria. According to Wikipedia lore, the pastry may have first appeared in Vienna in 1683 to celebrate the defeat of the Turks by the Polish. What the two of them were doing in Austria is left unexplained. The crescent shape may be meant to represent the crescent on the Turkish flag.

In any case, the croissant falls into a larger category of pastries known as Viennoiseries (Viennese specialities). These specialities include many other things with puff-pastry style dough, including pain au chocolat, pain au raisin and chausson aux pommes. Croissaints are made with obscene quantities of butter, to which they owe their flaky texture.

Where to Get Them
In France, croissants are available nearly anywhere for 60-80 centimes (Euro cents). Even in the United States they are not hard to come by, and can be found in most bakeries and coffee shops.

How to Make Them
Full disclosure: this is the only pastry I’ve covered so far that I have actually ever attempted to make myself. Suffice it to say that it did not go well, but that was several years ago, and I had/have little or no patience when it comes to cooking.

They are a good deal trickier to make than you might imagine, and cooking them yourself does force you to come to realize how much butter is actually in them (in the case of the recipe I’m providing, 3 sticks of butter and four cups of flour for around two dozen croissants). But if none of that discourages you, allez-y!

Image Source: roboppy under Creative Commons
Earlier: Macarons

For some reason, the exact origins of which are unclear to me, small children who speak foreign languages are undeniably cuter that their garden-variety, English-speaking counterparts. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that, in some of their cases, I’ve been trying to learn their language for longer than they’ve been alive, and they still seem to speak better than I do. But I doubt that’s the only reason.

It’s a phenomenon I’ve been witnessing when during my babysitting adventures. I am occasionally put in charge of the three small children in my landlord’s family while the parents go out for dinner. This generally consists of making sure they eat their dinner and self-consciously reading them a story in my horribly-accented French. And despite the fact that they display all the usual little-kid antics (hitting each other with toys, making a mess at the dinner table), it’s somehow more endearing coming from them. At least for the moment.

Witness the adorable nature of French children in the video clip above. I’ll be back next week with more pastries and perhaps also some stories of actual travels.

Pastry of the Week is a special dedicated to exploring the world of French pastries, written by someone who enjoys eating French pastries.

While I will link to recipes when possible, I have neither the kitchen equipment nor the cooking skill to test any of them myself, so I cannot vouch for them.

It’s been a long time … dare I say, more than a week, since my last installment. This week I’ll be talking about macarons.

The Basics
French macarons are a good deal different from what Americans would refer to as macaroons. In my experience, macaroons tend to be small- to medium-sized cookie-like pastries, composed largely of coconut. Macarons are different. They are small, light cookies, made up mostly of egg whites, sugar and almond. They are also generally flavored (except the macarons nature) and dyed to match whatever flavor they are. For this reason, they come in an assortment of exotic colors, including green (pistachio), pink (rose), yellow (lemon) and purple (lavender), to name a few. They were prominently featured in Henrik Ibsen’s play “A Doll’s House,” and thanks to eleventh-grade English class, that’s the first thing I think about when I see them.

They taste very light, merginue-like and sweet, with a hint of whatever flavor they are intended to be. They are like tiny sandwiches, in that there are two cookies with filling in the middle. It seems that they’ve solidified their place in the world as your quintessential snooty French pastry, as indicated by an article in the Wall Street Journal in which fans complain that they have become too popular. It includes gem quotes such as “Macarons are not meant to be mainstream,” and “It was so weird to see these delicate, very French pastries in something that’s so American. It’s kind of like if you showed up in a tuxedo to a baseball game.”

Moving right along.

Where to Get Them
In the Bay Area, macarons are available from Miette, La Boulange and Paulette Macarons, all located in San Francisco.

How to Make Them
The cookies have to be made separately from the filling and then assembled. While it looks complicated, you should be able to do it without any special equipment, just a lot of egg whites, sugar and almonds. A recipe can be found here, along with links to many others.

Image Source: In Praise of Sardines under Creative Commons
Earlier: Marzipan Pigs

Pastry of the Week is a special dedicated to exploring the world of French pastries, written by someone who enjoys eating French pastries.

While I will link to recipes when possible, I have neither the kitchen equipment nor the cooking skill to test any of them myself, so I cannot vouch for them.

On a trip to Lourdes about two weeks ago, some friends and I stumbled into a small café and bakery to escape the pouring rain. The reason for and details surrounding my voyage to a Catholic pilgrimage site in the Pyrenees are probably best left for another post, but in the bakery I found these charming marzipan pigs (or marzipigs, as they are apparently also known). I ate one, of course, and have chosen to dedicate this week’s pastry of the week to the bizarre confection.

The Basics
Marzipan pigs are commonly available around Christmas time, and are traditionally given to children to symbolize good luck. The sites I have found describe the pigs as being pure marzipan, but the one I ate was actually a cake-like dessert covered in the molded marzipan.

It is my personal opinion that marzipan creations tend to look better than they taste,  and this darling little pig was sadly no exception. The sweetness was rather overwhelming. It was, however, undeniably cute, and supposedly lucky, so if you’re looking to procure some of your own, we’ve got information on how to do that.

Where to Buy Them
Given that these are seasonal treats, they are probably a bit hard to come by at the moment. Word is that Cost Plus stores occasionally sell marzipan in various shapes, including pigs. The Pasta Shop on 4th Street in Berkeley also sells marzipan creations, although pigs are not explicitly mentioned.

How to Make Them
No special equipment is required to sculpt these pigs, all you need is marzipan, which can be made from scratch or purchased, and a bit of creativity. For a marzipan recipe and a pig-making tutorial, check here.

Image Source: Valerie Woolard
Earlier: Cannelés

Hello and welcome to the first pastry of the week post. I am currently studying in France, and while my vegetarianism causes me to bypass most traditional French cuisine, one of my favorite things about this country is the astonishing variety of pastries and sweets. As a result, I am beginning a weekly special in which I will discuss one pastry per week. I will link to recipes when possible, but I have neither the kitchen equipment nor the cooking skill to test any of the recipes for myself, so I cannot vouch for them.

I felt it appropriate to dedicate the first of these posts to the cannelé, a Bordeaux specialty.

The Basics
A cannelé (pronounced can-uh-lay) is a small cake-like pastry with an outer layer of waxy, carmelized sugar and a bread-pudding-like, spongy, custardy interior. Cannelés are not the prettiest of pastries, as the carmelization tends to make the outer layer appear burnt even when it isn’t. However, the appearance is more than made up for with the taste. The best one I’ve had so far contained a palpable hint of vanilla flavor, and after perusing some recipes, it seems rum is also a common ingredient.

Where to Get Them
The pastries are sold nearly everywhere in Bordeaux for 1.70-2.00 euro ($2.30-$2.75) apiece. In the United States they’re a bit harder to come by, but they can be found at some French bakeries. According to my Google research, they are sold in San Francisco at La Boulange and Boulette’s Larder (in the Ferry Building).

How to Make Them
Or, if you’re feeling a little braver and possess the baking skills that I do not, you can buy yourself some cannelé molds (like this or this, or a copper mold for the purists) and try making them for yourself.
The trickiest part seems to be fully cooking the outside while allowing the inside to retain its moisture. Otherwise, you’ll be left with a dry, flaky mess. It’s also important to allow enough cooling time, or you’ll end up with this.

Bon courage!

Image Source: Rubber Slippers in Italy under Creative Commons

One of many small French oddities that I’ve discovered is that retailers are not permitted to place things on sale at their whims throughout the year. Instead there are two five-week periods—one in the winter and one in the summer—determined by the Minister of Economy, during which sales take place. These are known as the “soldes” and make for huge crowds in any major shopping area.

While anyone who knows me will tell you I am neither a fashion nor a shopping connoisseur, I did find myself in need of several things upon my arrival and was glad to find that they had just begun.

One of my first major shopping expeditions involved getting sheets for my bed. Since I wasn’t quite sure if French beds came in the same sizes as American ones and sheets would have made a very bulky addition to my already overstuffed suitcase, I had opted to wait until my arrival to obtain them.

When I looked around in the store, I quickly noticed that everything was sold separately—quilt cover, top sheet, fitted sheet and pillow cases. Most of the things that were on sale were in unusual colors, and between the crowds, depleted supply and lack of organization, there was no way I was finding a matching set. I finally found a grey-blue quilt cover to match the blue pillowcase I’d brought with me, and an off-white fitted sheet. It was then that it occurred to me that not a single one of the top sheets was on sale. I found one at regular price that looked like it would match the fitted sheet I’d already picked out and bought it. My total came to 30 euros exactly, 3 euros for the fitted sheet, 9 euros for the quilt cover and 18 euros for the flat sheet. I suppose it’s some consolation that I didn’t have to buy all of it at full price.

Since that time, I have gone out several times to the shopping streets just for the sake of watching the crowds. I’ve even bought myself a few things, most of which have polka dots on them.

Image Source: Valerie Woolard

Traveling in general and studying abroad in particular tend to be somewhat romanticized notions. Shortly after departure, one is expected to immediately have wonderful stories to tell of beautiful places and wonderful experiences. You hear little of jet lag, hours spent in airports, lost luggage and sickness, while the fact of the matter is that when you travel, a lot can go wrong. This post is devoted to exploring those things, or at least, the ones that have happened to me.

Our story begins in San Francisco, nearly two weeks ago now, where I patiently awaited my flight out of the country to study abroad here in Bordeaux, France for the semester. My flight was nonstop to Frankfurt, where I would then catch a connecting flight to Paris, spending an afternoon in the city ambling past Notre-Dame Cathedral and other landmarks. I had booked a bed in a hostel in Paris for the night and a train out to Bordeaux around noon the next day.

Despite the underwear (Click here to read more…)