Piccolo: Italian Word for Small

There are restaurants in town that make me love Minneapolis. Piccolo is one of them.

There aren’t many places in town where you can get Scrambled Eggs with Pickled Pigs Feet (and love it) or a deep fried fig with your chicken. There also aren’t many places in town where you can eat four courses in and walk out not unbuttoning your pants. But you can do all three when you go to Piccolo.

Piccolo does the whole small plates thing in a different way than most small plates places. Piccolo doesn’t do small plates so that you can share. Piccolo does small plates that you can polish off yourself, perfect 4-ish bite plates that allow you to taste something awesome and interesting, not get sick of it, and move on to something even better.

I read an article about the place after it first opened where they talked about how the first few bites of a dish always taste the best. It’s true. So, Piccolo created dishes sized to address this, dishes sized so that no one gets sick of what they’re eating. Although, I have to say, I’m not sure I’d get sick of more bites of the Scrambled Eggs with Pickled Pigs Feet.

The menu is a one-sided list of small plates, that at the top start out lighter and work their way down to richer. The Piccolo staff describes the menu as a way to put together your own tasting menu. Love.

Everything I’ve ever had there has been delicious, but I always tell people to look at the menu before they go. It changes frequently, and it’s never a huge menu, so it’s always best to make sure they have things you like to eat on any given visit. I have found that I have loved some visits better than others based on what happens to be on the menu.

The highlights last week when I went with my dining buds L & L were the Scrambled Eggs with Pickled Pigs Feet (have I said they were amazing yet?) and the chicken. I was a little scared of the pickled pigs feet, I won’t lie. I hadn’t had pickled pigs feet before. But I’ve heard this dish continually praised (I think Andrew Zimmern himself ordered two plates of it once). It lived up to the hype, let’s just say that. The eggs were perfectly, softly scrambled. The pigs feet added a savory touch. The parmesan added a nice salty hit. And the light drizzle of truffle butter over the top made the whole thing even more ridiculously decadent.

I’m not generally a chicken fanatic like my lovely husband, but this chicken was amazing. I think if he had been there and had it, he would have died and gone to heaven. And then ordered a second plate of it in his next life. The chicken was flavorful and moist and set on top of some creamy polenta. It came with a fried fig on the side. Lovely. A successfully interesting chicken dish. That’s a feat, in my opinion.

For my first plate, I had the crab salad, which was my least favorite plate that night. It was certainly respectable, but I don’t know, it didn’t blow my mind like most of their plates usually do. I found the crab salad to be sort of wet, heavy on the mayo. And I didn’t love the (albeit pretty) drops of Japanese mayo on the plate.

I ended the meal with the little butter cake served with coconut cream and banana ice cream. I’m a sucker for anything banana, anything coconut, and anything cake. So I’m convinced this dessert was created with me in mind. Was tasty for sure, although after the eggs and chicken, it had a tough act to follow.

The Piccolo space is really cute, perfect for a special dinner out. Lots of windows and lots of light that make your rose wine glisten in its pure pretty pinkness.

Reason #387 why I love this city, and eating in it.

Happy Birthday, to Me!

Today is my (30^th!) birthday.

This year I decided to take the day off and spend it doing whatever I wanted. And that whatever I wanted today included making myself a super decadent homemade birthday cake.

Make my own birthday cake, you ask? Yes! I know, not conventional. Zach would have happily purchased the DQ ice cream cake I had been requesting a few weeks ago. He also would have happily baked me a cake if that was what I wanted. But I love to bake. And I don’t have tons of time to bake these days. So, having a whole day to bake a cake felt like a fabulous birthday luxury.

I had fun trolling through my cookbooks and picking the recipe.

I had fun doing everything exactly right. I read the recipe from start to finish just like every good baker should do—twice, in fact. I measured the flour the right way, scooping it into the measuring cup and leveling it off. I purchased the bananas a few days ago so they would be super ripe. I put all of the ingredients on the counter to get to room temperature before I used them and didn’t even cheat by putting them in the microwave. I cut out the parchment paper circles for my cake pans precisely.

The best part of this whole project? When David Lebovitz himself direct messaged me via Twitter after I tweeted that I’d be making the Banana Cake with Mocha Frosting and Salted Candied Peanuts from his book Ready for Dessert. “Be sure to let frosting sit until room temperature to thicken. That was somehow omitted from the book, although seems evident ;)” he wrote.

Yes, sir!

I was giddy for a good hour over the fact that he messaged me! I love David Lebovitz!

I also loved his cake, which is remarkable since it was consumed within an hour of scarfing down a big buttery lobster roll.

The banana cake was super moist with two cups of mashed ripe bananas, sour cream, and butter. It was studded with walnuts. And it baked to a perfect consistency and didn’t get browned edges like some cakes do.

The frosting simply consisted of chocolate, espresso, and butter. You knew that would be good.

And the candied peanuts quickly crystallized after being cooked in sugar and water. After cooking, they were sprinkled with cinnamon and salt. Mine didn’t get glossy like I thought they should have—but they tasted good. That’s for sure.

I loved how the flavors were layered throughout—espresso was a hero in the frosting, but was also added as a secondary flavor to the banana cake. And there was cinnamon in both the banana cake and the candied peanuts.

I had to improvise a bit because the recipe didn’t make enough frosting to cover the sides of the cake. But whatevs, the frosting on the side of the cake is usually too much for me.

I think I’ve started a new tradition for myself: baking my own birthday cakes. (At least for as long as my mom doesn’t live in Minneapolis.)

Happy birthday, to me!

Banana Cake with Mocha Frosting and Salted Candied Peanuts, Adapted slightly from Ready for Dessert by David Lebovitz

Cake

2.5 c flour

1.5 tsp cinnamon

1.5 tsp baking powder

¾ tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

1 c unsalted butter, room temp

1.5 c sugar

1 tsp vanilla

1 tbsp espresso powder

2 large eggs, room temp

6 tbsp sour cream, room temp

2 c ripe bananas, mashed (I needed 5 bananas)

1 c toasted walnuts, chopped

Candied Peanuts

1 c  unsalted roasted peanuts

½ c sugar

3 tbsp water

½ tsp sea salt

1/8 tsp cinnamon

Frosting

10 oz semisweet chocolate, chopped

½ c brewed espresso

10 tsbp unsalted butter, room temp

Preheat oven to 350.

Butter two 9-inch round cake pans. Line bottoms with parchment paper.

For Cake:

In medium bowl, whisk together flour, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

In stand mixer fitted with paddle attachment, beat butter and sugar on medium until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add vanilla and espresso powder; mix. Add eggs one at a time, mixing until blended completely each time. Add in half of the flour mixture; mix. Add in sour cream and bananas; mix. Add in rest of flour and mix until just combined. Stir in walnuts by hand.

Divide batter equally into both pans. Bake for about 35 minutes, until toothpick comes out clean when inserted into middle of cakes.

Let cool completely in pans.

For Peanuts:

Stir peanuts, sugar, and water together in medium heavy-bottomed sauce pan. Turn on heat to medium. Stir periodically until sugar starts to crystallize. At that point, turn heat down to medium-low, continuing to stir, coating all of the peanuts. (My sugar became completely crystallized quickly, and this is when I stopped.) Off heat, sprinkle with salt and cinnamon. Pour onto sheet pan to let cool.

For Frosting:

Place chocolate and espresso in bowl resting on pot of simmering water and melt the chocolate until smooth and well blended with the espresso. Off heat, whisk in butter. Let frosting cool to room temp before using.

To Assemble:

Remove cakes from pans one at a time. Place first cake down on cake plate. Pour half of frosting on the top and smooth out. Place second cake on top. Pour rest of frosting on top of second cake and smooth. Scatter one cup of the peanuts over the top.

Chick Food (Chilled Persian Yogurt Soup)

Zach doesn’t like the following foods: cold soup, kiwis, melons, grapefruit, cucumbers, and things that stick in his teeth. There are others, but those are sufficient for now for illustrative purposes.

So last weekend when he was on a bike trip with his dad, I recognized an opportunity, and took advantage.

I love cold, creamy yogurt-based soups, but we never have them because, well, Zach would rather die than eat them.

I also forgot to mention that he generally doesn’t like foods when they are used for things other than their primary usage. Yogurt used for soup would fall into this category.

I found this recipe for Chilled Persian Yogurt Soup in the most recent Food & Wine. It is a fabulous issue, by the way. I happily flagged about 50 recipes and have already started ticking through them.

Chilled Perisian Yogurt Soup. It just sounds refreshing, healthy, and delicious, no?

What really intrigued me was that the recipe called for dried rose petals. I never found them in town, but I found a source for them online (Kalustyans). I didn’t plan ahead enough to order these petals and get them in time for the weekend, so I had to make the recipe without. And that worked.

It was ridiculously easy to make and involved lots of my favorite prep step: chopping. Chopping and preparing mis en place. Oh, and peeling!

Greek yogurt, ice water, walnuts, golden raisins, cucumbers, lots of freshly chopped mint, chives, and dill. Some ground sumac. That's it.

It’s almost cooling me down just thinking about it. It’s the perfect soup to keep a container of in the fridge for the weekend, ready to be spooned into a bowl at a moment's notice.

Chilled Persian Yogurt Soup, Adapted Slightly from the June 2011 issue of Food & Wine

1/2 c walnuts, toasted, cooled, and chopped

2 c plain greek yogurt

1.5 cups ice water

1/2 c golden raisins

1/2 seedless cucumber, peeled and finely diced

1/4 c chopped fresh mint

1/4 c chopped fresh dill

1/4 c chopped fresh chives

Salt and fresh ground pepper

Ground sumac (optional)

Whisk together the yogurt and ice water. Stir in all other ingredients, except for ground sumac. Season with salt and pepper. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour. Sprinkle with a pinch of ground sumac after ladeled into bowls to be served.

(If you want to use the dried rose petals, the recipe calls for 1/4 c. They should be soaked in cold water for about 20 minutes until they are soft, and then squeezed of excess liquid. They get mixed in with all of the other chopped ingredients.)

Meet My New Favorite: Tilia

I have officially declared Tilia “my new favorite place” to everyone I have talked to since going there twice this weekend. Yes. Twice.

All of this “my new favorite place” talk got me thinking. What is it about places that make them become one of my favorites? Because I generally have a rolling list of five or so favorites. They change slightly every once in a while, but overall I’m pretty loyal. This is my working theory on what translates into favorite status:

Has a neighborhood vibe. You can tell when a place is a neighborhood place the second you walk in. The people look familiar even though you don’t know them. They are dressed more casually. There is a more laid back vibe. Everyone’s more comfortable because they feel like they’re on their own turf. I feel this way when I walk into Broder's Pasta Bar. I feel this way when I walk into Pizzeria Lola. And I felt this way when I walked into Tilia. Both times.

Has things on the menu that you actually want to eat. This sounds odd, but there are places where you want to devour the menu, and there are places that make amazing food but don’t have super inspiring menus. Take Grand Café, for example. I love Grand Café for brunch, but I have never been there for dinner, and I don’t really want to go there for dinner. I’ve looked at the dinner menu many times, and it just…falls flat. Sure, there is a chicken entrée. There is a beef entrée. A vegetarian entrée. And not a whole lot in between. Tilia though…Tilia has things on the menu that I want to eat. That’s why I had to go twice last weekend. I knew I had to try something other than the burger on my first visit Friday night, even though I was dying for that burger. But I was also dying for the brisket, for the grilled bread with prosciutto and mozzarella, for the scallops, for the roasted chicken thighs, and for all of the things we actually ordered that night. But I thought about that burger all weekend; I had to go back for it.

A connection to the chef or owner. Steven Brown, one of the owners and “Executive Culinary Director” served part of our meal both times I was at Tilia this weekend. I happen to love when the owners and chefs are present and engaging with the patrons. It gives you a good sense of how much they care about the food they’re serving. And I think that makes it taste better. Really. Chef / owner Russell Klein of Meritage also does walk-throughs in the dining room. I’ve been asked by him a few times now how my meal was. Lucia Watson sometimes eats with friends in her own restaurant. Connection. We all want connection, whether we admit it or not.

A place that works for special occasions and weeknights. We do a lot of dining out during the work week. Ironically, we go to a lot of the same places when we’re celebrating or going out on a date night. Barrio is a great example of this. We hit it up frequently on random Tuesday nights for tacos and a margarita. We’ve also hit it up for Zach’s birthday two years in a row. Same for Broder's. We’ve spent countless weeknights at the pasta bar and were there just last night for a birthday celebration dinner. When you love a place, I think you crave the feeling you get when you walk in. And that feeling is what makes it perfect for more-special-than-weeknight occurrences.

Good food. This is an obvious one, right? So let’s get to it for Tilia. Love the menu, and love the food when it comes out. I have to say, my friend Ben made the best ordering decisions Friday night, even though everything was truly good.

We all started by sharing the spicy shrimp (only because they were sold out of the quickly-becoming-famous-in-town scallops), the fries, and the escargot. All were good. I think the fries with dipping sauce were the favorite? They’re good fries. It's good sauce.

For entrees, I had the Squash Caramelle Pasta. Medium-sized pillows of filled pasta, with a creamy and satisfying (albeit maybe a tad salty) sauce with Gorgonzola and walnuts. My friend Ben had the beef brisket and that was the entrée show-stopper at our table. It was really delicious, served with crème fraiche mashed potatoes. I immediately had food envy.

For desserts, we decided to not share. By this point, we had all fallen in love with this place. I had the Butterscotch Pot de Crème, and it was good, although it tasted more like caramel to me than butterscotch. And again, Ben again chose the real winner: the Spiced Pear Bundt Cake with Cardamom Glaze. The glaze was to die for. Must try to replicate.

Sunday night I had that Bacon Cheeseburger that I lusted for all weekend. It did not disappoint—and I had built up some pretty high expectations. It was so good that I found myself savoring it, eating it deliberately and slowly, alternating in bites of the homemade pickles served alongside. The bun was fresh, soft, and chewy. The pickle mayo was a nice touch. Bacon. Cheese. It wasn’t over the top. Simple, but really well executed.

But I think my favorite thing that I’ve had so far is the Roasted Chicken Thighs. I don’t even usually like chicken thighs. But I had heard about these, so Zach and I tried them. There was no bone in them, so that was an immediate win. They were juicy and perfectly seasoned. “Sorta jerk style,” it says on the menu. I was very sad when Zach sent one flying off the table by accident and we lost it to the floor. After seriously deliberating the five second rule, we each ended up having only one lovely chicken thigh vs the one and a half we could have had barring that accident. That was sad.

What’s next on my radar are the BLT Dogs (yes, BLT hotdogs), the scallops (that I feel like are the thing people rave most about), the Gravlax (supposed to be another winner). Oh, and brunch! They have brunch. They also have snacks. Afternoon and late night.

Very reasonably priced.

Fabulous light fixtures. A super cute bar-bar, and a super cute bar overlooking the kitchen.

This place is brilliant.

P.S. Check out their video on their website. It’ll make you love the place even more.

Welcome, Neighbor!

I had one of those moments on Saturday where everything was perfect. The sun was warm, the breeze was cool. I was walking to my car with my breakfast in one hand (Hangover Hash from The Chef Shack), my freshly made coffee in the other hand, and a bag hanging from my wrist that contained rhubarb for jam, mint for soup, and a little white paper bag of baked goods (for me). And I was feeling productive b/c it was only 9:15 am.

I went home with my good spirits in tow and sat on the porch and ate my breakfast on one of our bright yellow chairs. By myself. Without my phone. Without the TV on. I swear it set the tone for the whole day. I got things done yesterday that it would never occur to me to get done. Like mulch our flower beds. Half of them, anyway.

I love the new Fulton Farmers Market. I love that it’s exactly five blocks away, and that I can walk there. I also love that I can drive and find parking easily, which is what I actually do. I love that it’s not super crowded and that I can move around. I love that it seems to have a particularly happy vibe vs other markets. And perhaps best, I love the tasty things found there.

Nah, it’s not as big as Mill City Farmers Market. Certainly not as big as the Mpls Farmers Market. But it’s my neighborhood’s market. And I love my neighborhood.

The only thing I don’t like about it is the mean lady who yelled at me for taking photos of her produce (okay, maybe yell isn’t the right word, gave me attitude is probably a little more fair, but still). But that’s okay, there are other produce vendors to buy from there who are happy to have a photo of their beautiful stuff on the web.

I would like to say that I go to the market primarily for produce, but I’d be lying. Sure, the produce is great, what there is of it this time of the year anyway (lots of lettuces, a few tiny baby strawberries, green onions, rhubarb).

But when produce gets stacked up against something like The Chef Shack, it’s gonna be hard for produce to win. I’ve been a fan of The Chef Shack ever since I met it at the Mill City Farmers Market a few summers ago. They have Indian Spiced Mini Doughnuts that are out of this world (literally, figuratively). Haven’t seen those little gems hit the Fulton market yet, but everything they serve is generally great. Saturday I ordered the Hangover Hash. Was I hung over? No. Had I had some wine the night before? Yes. So, seemed like I could make it work.

I’ve never had a breakfast of eggs, veggies, and potatoes taste so good. Seriously. The potatoes had great straight-up potato flavor, but were also salted perfectly and in these big chunks of smashed-ness. The veggies made me feel healthy. The eggs were tasty. And to really make it sing, there was a special sauce drizzled all across the top. I have no idea what it was, but I’m guessing it involved sour cream or mayo. And it involved something red to give it its salmon-y color. I didn’t study it long enough to figure out what it was because I was too busy shoving it into my mouth.

But it gets even better than the Hangover Hash and The Chef Shack.

I had been hearing about this Bogart Loves, a new baker in town. She has a daytime gig unrelated, but will be baking this summer at the Fulton and Kingsfield markets, alternating each week. I immediately became intrigued by this, imagining someone waking up at like 1 am on market days to bake away. And I heard her stuff was delicious, so I had to give it a shot.

BL’s stuff looks homemade (in a well-done but still charming way), which immediately raised the appeal for me. We have some good baked goods in town (not a ton, but some), but they are squarely in the professional camp. And when you’re talking cookies, brownies, and cupcakes, you want something homemade.

I tried her Nutella-Stuffed Doughnut, her Chocolate Whoopie Pie, and her Chocolate Cupcake. All three were fantastic. The Nutella-Stuffed Doughnut was perfect in proportions. The dough wasn’t overly sweet, and the amount of Nutella wasn’t over the top. The cupcake surprised me at first because I was expecting the usual super sweet chocolate cupcake. This one was smarter than the rest. It was deep in chocolate and glazed with only a thin layer of chocolate ganache. A very nice cupcake. And cute. The whoopie pie was moist, creamy, cakey, and sweet, just like a whoopie pie should be. The cakey layers were thinner than I would have expcted, but there was a right amount of frosting associated with it, so it worked.

There is a vendor who sells goat cheese.

I’m pretty sure I saw a vendor selling meats.

One vendor had gorgeous peonies.

Sunstreet Bakery and Patisserie 46 are both there (although I’ll always be hitting up BL for baked goods).

There is a stand that brews the coffee right in front of you, and has uber thick real cream. (I bet its organic, too.)

Big River Pizza was there a few weeks ago when I went.

And of course, there are produce vendors. But look for the nice produce vendors.

Welcome, FFM!

I Was Meant to Live in France

...And we’re back. We had a fantastic vacation with the fam in Provence (and a few days in Paris, too). We lived like the locals in Provence in a rented villa, where we had lots of togetherness, a good amount of rain, a bit of sun, and LOTS of food. There are some frightening stats associated with this. In the week we were in Provence, we eight consumed:

38 bottles of wine (excluding wine that was consumed at restaurants)

3 bottles of vodka

11 salamis

21 baguettes

72 croissants

14 yogurts (purchased only because of the cute glass jars they were sold in)

10 different types of cheeses, at least

Okay, so maybe we didn’t eat like locals. We ate like pigs. Very happy pigs.

The highlights:

Hitting up favorite pastry haunts in Paris

I have to say, I don’t have must-have restaurants in Paris yet (but I am confident one day I will), but I do have must-have patisseries that I hit up whenever I’m there. The last time I was in Paris, my mom and I discovered Eric Kayser. We immediately fell in love with what I'd argue are the best croissants in Paris, and we went there for breakfast every single day on that trip. So, I had to show Zach. We had the croissants, and one afternoon, we also stopped in for this treat. Love this place, even the cranky woman who makes the cappuccinos. (And yes, I just said I have encountered someone in Paris who is cranky, but this is not the norm!! Don't repeat it.)

My other favorite patisserie in Paris is Laduree—a classic and best known for its macarons. But my favorite thing there is the Rose Religieuse. It’s filled with pastry cream that tastes faintly like rose water and is studded with fresh raspberries. It’s one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten. And the place couldn’t be classier. China and silver. You feel sophisticated just by sitting there.

Pork for lunch

I think this is actually an un-highlight. As I’ve said before, I am compulsive about planning out where we’ll eat on trips. It's too easy to get mediocre food otherwise. Once when my mom and I were in Rome, we trekked probably 5 miles (ok, maybe an exaggeration), but it was out of the way. All to find the perfect place for bucatini with black pepper and pecorino. At the time she thought I was nuts, but I know that she was glad once we finally ate. We were so delirious from waiting to eat for so long, that we ended up in a giggling fit in the middle of the restaurant and couldn’t pull it together. It’s a good memory.

So, of course, this time I had my list of places scoped at as well. David Lebovitz reco-ed a place called Rubis on his blog, and it was right by the Louvre, so we decided to go there after looking at art one day. I had forgotten the address, so we very very quickly turned the data roaming on on my phone, and in my haste to get the data roaming turned off quickly, I skimmed over the address. Rue Saint-Honore was what I thought it said. But, no, it was really Rue du Marche Saint-Honore. So, we went down many many blocks on Rue Saint-Honore until we got to where the street number should have been, and there was no Rubis. I was thoroughly confused by this. So, we turned around and went down past where we started wondering if the numbers started over again (I know, not likely).

Finally, miraculously, we figured out what had happened. And we found Rubis.

I walked in expecting something fabulous.

I started to get nervous when we were sent up a narrow staircase to an extra dining area.

I started getting even more nervous when the waitress spoke no English. I can usually get by with what I know in French, but it usually comes with some help in English. She figured out fairly quickly that we’d have trouble communicating, so she took us back to the kitchen to show us what they had left for lunch (we got there close to 3pm). This was certainly a new experience.

It was slim picking, but I was happy with the lentils I thought I’d be getting.

I was a little surprised when this came out, this big piece of pork. (What cut of pork is that, you ask? I'm not sure. And I'm not sure I want to know.) Yes, I ate this. Yes, it tasted good. But now I look at it, and am not sure why (on both accounts).

Famous Jerry

This story happened the same day as the Rubis debacle. Clearly, it was a doozy of a day.

On our second night in Paris, we went to a place called L’Ami Jean. I had had quite a bit to eat that day (what, with that ginormous pork thing and the pastry I ate immediately after to make myself feel better) and was feeling rather green. We were setting up for a fairly uneventful dinner as I picked at my entree, until I heard the two ladies sitting next to us say something about someone famous just walking in. “I hope they don’t screw up his reservation,” she said.

I didn’t think much of it b/c I didn’t recognize anyone, and the two “famous people” sat down at the communal table between us and the two women. Super dapper in their black suits and unbuttoned white shirts. Super friendly. Definitely gave off a could be famous vibe, and based on the conversation they had with the women on the other side of them, they were. But we had no idea who they were! It’s been driving us nuts. This is what we think we heard:

Famous-er of the 2 named Jerry

Lives in Toronto

Dining partner (and I think life partner as well) “produces his stuff”

We have google searched and google searched. We cant figure it out. If you do, let me know.

(He said he was going to check out my blog after he commented on the fact that I was taking pictures of my food. So, someone famous could be reading my blog. Score to that!)

Because I wasn’t feeling great, I barely made my way through the entrée. I somehow regained my appetite when they brought out this rice pudding bar of sorts. A HUGE bowl of probably the best rice pudding I’ve ever had, with caramel mousse, and meringues.

Lunch

When we were in Provence, lunch was a major highlight. It often looked like this: cheeses, salami (my favorite one was studded with walnuts, so delicious), olives, a fresh fig, about half of a baguette, and a smear of Nutella. And a glass of Rose of course. I should eat this for lunch here in the states. Not sure why I don’t.

Markets

Love the markets in Provence. Every day, it’s in a different town. We did the Coustellet market the first day we were there, and also did the Gordes market another day. A total feast for the eyes. Countless cheeses, countless salamis, fruits, veggies, soaps, spices, rotiserrie chickens. Even a friendly barrista who swirls an "M" into the foam of your cappucino because you're from Minnesota. And gives your dad free limes for his vodka tonics.

Paella

Why don’t we have takeout Paella places in the US? After a string of nights where we cooked at the villa, we decided to get takeout Paella one night. They do this in Provence. You put down a deposit for the paella pan and get to take it home. I’ve decided that I’m going to try to master paella in the near future. Lovely. Especialy when consumed on a patio overlooking a pool in Provence with your favorite people.

Cherry nectar

This was my favorite find at the Coustellet market. Cherry nectar. It was intriguing all bottled up with no label. I had to try it. But to be honest, I was worried it would be ridiculously sweet. How silly of me. It was amazing. Cherry-ish, perfume-ish. Sweet but not too sweet. I can’t explain it. It tasted more like cherries growing than actual cherries if that makes sense. J I enjoyed exactly one and a half glasses. The rest was mixed with vodka by the boys and enjoyed in the pool. Sigh. I will ask every farmer I ever see with cherries at a farmers market if they make cherry nectar for the rest of my life.

Goat cheese

See the goat cheese rounds on the right? They were the most tasty, perfect, goat-y little goat cheeses I’ve ever had. I seriously think that maybe they were the single best thing I ate on the trip. And luckily there aren’t many goat eaters in my family, and I largely enjoyed the four I got by myself.

Dinner at La Bastide

No story here, just amazing food. I had a crab and avocado salad, lamb chops with pesto-y spring vegetables, and red fruits with a basil black olive sorbet that was amazing. Zach got this chocolate stunner. You have to order your dessert when you order your entrée b/c they take that long to put together (Zach had blueberries cut in half on his for decoration). And then as if you can’t be pleased beyond your mind enough already, they bring out little candies to have with your coffee.

Amazing, that place, amazing.