The virtue of appetite depends largely on superlative cooking brokered by the epigenetic cultural norms of a particular cuisine. The blog is an ode to the French-style of waste-no-taste served you - because their culinary tradition is a pantheon to the country and a matter of life or death. (And the world knows that fact, without hyperbole-speaking.) The reduction achievement of wine and roots vegetables sauce, for example, is the "essence" of a bourguignon, and this braising down technique is like extracting perfume from botanicals, and no high place on earth can you find alchemic flavor to gaga about except from the bottom pooling under all exquisitely-prepared French food (the wisdom of the baguette to sop up all these nectar par excellence is the point exactement!) And quite frankly, I don't have reservations for it. The Chez Mamy (11th arr. in Paris) is a splendid bistro you can practice doing as the French do.
Back home yesterday I braised dandelion greens with cherry tomatoes and kalamata olives until almost macerated and have extruded their conforming juices and added slightly salted pure water to soak up these essences with my aim to develop steaming vapor for when I drop the fresh spinach and walnut raviolis so as to cook through the dough enhanced. My multi-seeded mini baguette was buttered overwhelmingly in the toaster until the fatty cream bubbled and the edge lines of the bread burnt. Butter (le beurre) is the ineffable secret to French gastronomy as if adding it to perfection isn't enough to swoon your palate. When I visit my cousin, a photographer in Paris, hours of conversations go by with clean plates switching seamlessly from aperitif to main to salad to cheese, turned around by the keen wait staff in sync with the emotive quality of our dining at Chez. (I believe "leftovers" is disrespectful to the French - with all the passion executed upon your meal.) I actually "Tik-Toked" a short home video on my cell (albeit without publishing it on that site; I don't have any social media account online except for this blog) the actual commencement of the sopping on my plate, I figured something memorable to do here on the island, this type of eating I rarely do - and I loved it to death!
"My roots are Victorian but I have been modernized by life and my children. My book reflects my life and, as you may see by its timely contents, I have not stood still. So I am bringing you not only much that is old and memorable but also much that is new. Many simply prepared dishes, low in cost, have been included to meet the change in our domestic home front. Every effort has been made to encourage the cook in her daily grind by lifting everyday food out of the commonplace." (The Joy of Cooking, ca. 1932 edition, forward note by its timeless author Irma S. Rombauer)
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