Barbra Austin

Though it was the first thing I thought of when I saw it, this is not a fancy dish of mashed potatoes, scooped up cafeteria-style with a big well in the middle for gravy. No, it’s giant portion of fior di latte gelato, ready to be drowned in espresso and turned into one of my favorite treats: Caffé affogato.

I give a lot of credit to my friend Philippa, who never having eaten a single oyster, had the courage to join me for lunch at Huitrerie Régis, where there is a minimum order of a dozen per person. In turn, she gives me credit for having convinced her to try several foods for the first time, including marrow, sweetbreads, and fava beans, all of which she was rather surprised to learn she liked. Still, she would rather die than let a tomato touch her lips.

Some things really are better in moderation. Foie gras, for example. Yes, last Friday’s dinner was bien arrosé, but I’m blaming the fattened liver (and subsequent cassoulet) for the lack of sleep and cold sweats.

This was an absurdly rich meal, one in a series, that I would only eat in France. The night before I had a terrine of rabbit and a beef stew with prunes and mashed potatoes tangy with crème frâiche. And for lunch, just hours before the foie gras cassoulet one-two punch I had the silkiest chestnut soup topped with whipped cream and crispy lardons followed by a roasted stuffed chicken leg over a buttery celery root purée. Oh, and dessert.

You may have heard that today is Valentine’s day. Personally I don’t enjoy the forced romance of February 14th, and the pressure to do something special. What I do enjoy is finding the right gift for someone, any day of the year.

I have eaten at Ippudo at least a dozen times since my first visit last September. The total would be higher if I hadn’t been away much of the fall and Thanksgiving and Christmas. It is a weekly thing now. I eat there more frequently than any other restaurant. When I’m there, slurping up noodles, all I can think about is when I’ll be able to come back. I crave Ippudo.

The sight of bananas blackening on the counter can only mean one thing: Time to make banana nugget cookies.