Barbra Austin

I know, I know, I haven’t written anything new in over a week.

…It’s (Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and) Saturday night.

There aren’t any foods that I particularly miss when I’m in France, but I do miss certain restaurants: Barbuto, of course, and also The Little Owl where, at lunch, a glorious bacon cheeseburger can be had.

One look at La Bergamote’s shiny glazed fruit tarts, tall dark chocolate cakes, glittering pates de fruits, piles of crisp meringue clouds, plump religieuses and golden brioches, and I am transported.

I am familiar with most of the more common cuts of meat, but I simply cannot commit to memory the full lexicon of butchery. I can’t remember what comes from where and which is better for what. It’s a recurring resolution of mine, to learn every name of every part of the cow/pig/lamb, but I’ve yet to make good on it.

If I need meat, I call Florence.

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.