A canelé is a specialty of the Bordeaux region of France. A
small pastry with a soft custard center and a dark caramelized crust.
They are eaten for breakfast, as a snack, and for dessert. Canelé
is also a favorite neighborhood restaurant. Just a few walkable blocks
from home. Robert and I were there on a recent Friday night. We have
often wondered how the recession is affecting restaurants. It didn’t
seem to be having much of an affect on Canelé this particular night.
The restaurant was full and people were still waiting for tables when
we left around 9:15 or so.
It’s great to see this place doing so well. The food has been called French-California-Mediterranean. And it is, but some of the menu items are classic French. Those are the ones I like the most. Like the bouef Bourguignon with buttered noodles I had on my first visit, and the pissaladiere with herb salad. They also have sides like pommes Anna, a very old-fashioned potato dish of layered potatoes and butter; starters like leeks vinaigrette, and brandade, a salt cod dish originating in the Languedoc and Provence regions of France.
Joe’s restaurant on Abbot-Kinney in Venice, California is a delight and a deal. Michelin thinks so, having just given this French-California gem a star. And my entire family agrees, and we are not always the most agreeable foursome. Our recent love affair with Joe’s began when I took my husband there for his birthday lunch several weeks ago. A friend joined our table. We ordered from a three course prix fixe menu that ran about $17.00. There was also a two-course lunch with many choices that was much cheaper. The dishes were innovative and fun, reminiscent of my favorite French or Bay Area menus (Larkspur Inn, Aqua, French Laundry). Even the bread was incredible. The service was great and, important to me, flexible and easy. 
Food in New York. I used to know it so well. When I lived there
during the ’80s and ’90s, and worked in the food business I knew every
place there was to know, and I went to most all of them. It’s been a
very long spell since I lived there, and too long since I’ve been able
to really visit. A big void has been left in my New York
City food knowledge. So when I first heard about Magnolia Bakery and
how everyone was raving about it, I had no frame of reference. It was
just food-iverse white noise. (I apparently missed its appearance in
both ‘Sex and the City’ and in an SNL sketch.) I quickly got up to
speed when they announced they were opening a shop in Los Angeles on
one of the busiest streets in L.A.: West 3rd Street. With everything
that had been written I understood that this was a very popular place.
I wanted to go check it out. Some of the stories (in the L.A. Times
and on the Internet) were about how owner, Steve Abrams, was met with
complaints from the neighborhood and other businesses about how his
business would impact parking. The area was already saturated.
Parking places were impossible to find. I knew this to be very true.
So instead of driving, and battling parking: let’s take the bus!
I've studied wine for a decade and have worked on my palate,
expanding my personal taste to include styles from all over the world.
Red, white, sparkling, dessert. I've tried them all. Yet, when it came
to food, I still treated most meals as the means to an end – which was
drinking great wine. So the fact that I've dined at the Petrossian Cafe
twice in 3 weeks is more than a little out of character. It wasn't
until I started following a bunch of LA foodies this past spring on
Twitter that I realized how limited my experience with food really was.
I was embarrassed by the long list of delicacies that I had never eaten
and was actually afraid to put in my mouth. So, I started making a
concentrated effort to eat outside my comfort zone and jump on the
foodie bandwagon. Within the last six months I've eaten Wellfleet
oysters on the half shell (a must when on Cape Cod), Escargot a La Bourguignonne
(anything smothered in garlic and butter tastes good) and a Scotch Egg
(a deep-fried delight).
Despite the fact I have parents who eat ice cream almost every day (if they could have it at every meal, they would), until
recently I thought I could live happily without ever lifting a dessert spoon again.
