Souvenirs

We visited a few cooking stores in Paris. While I was tempted with large copper pans and a few heavy cookbooks, I came away with the perfect portable prize - a wooden spoon. After all, I can never have too many wooden spoons, and this is a lovely one that fits well in the hand.

In a London souvenir shop (of all places) I came across another treasure - a roll of greaseproof paper.

Back in the '70s, when my grandmother would travel from England to visit us in Montreal, she would bring treasured rolls of greaseproof paper. Mum used it to line the tins she made fudge in so the confection would tip out easily. Wax paper, which was the closest to greaseproof she could find in Montreal, was not the same. The wax would melt when exposed to heat, leaving a messy residue on the food.

I think parchment paper is probably the same as greaseproof, but I've never tried it. I reach for an ancient roll of greaseproof on the rare occasion I need to line a cake tin.

And now, I have a back-up roll in the pantry.

All together a successful trip.

Heathrow airport

I have spent many hours in Terminal 2 at Los Angeles International Airport, and I have never had a meal like I had at Heathrow airport.

Local organic greens, fresh vegetables, good dressing, goat cheese - I almost forgot I was in an airport.

Train food

We took the train up to Sheffield to visit my aunt.

It was a Sunday, so the train stopped at every little town (definition: pub and church).

Fortunately, there were sandwiches to fortify us on the 3-hour ride. Way better than the food provided on the transatlantic plane, I might add.

(Rocket = arugula).

Breakfast in Bloomsbury

In London, we stayed in Bloomsbury, near the British Museum, a district known for its turn-of-the-century writers and intellectuals like Virginia Woolf and John Maynard Keynes.

We ate breakfast our first morning at the Bloomsbury Coffee House, a basement café in the St. Athan's hotel.

I ordered the potato pancakes with scrambled eggs. It was fine, but the highlight was the customer who ordered after us.

He was a committed vegan who wanted to know the sourcing of all their ingredients. He asked where their veggie sausage patties came from. The waitress went to the back and returned with the box of Linda McCartney vegetarian sausage patties from the freezer. He read the small print ingredients out loud, commenting on each one. Then he asked if the chickens who laid the eggs were fed non-gmo corn. He had a thousand questions. The waitress was very patient. I was shaking with suppressed giggles.

We left when he starting asking about the tea.

Veggies in London

Veggie pie in a Bloomsbury pub.

After the challenges of being a vegetarian in Paris, it was a pleasure to get to London, where vegetarians are vociferous and catered to.

In England, there is a vegetarian-friendly logo for food, just as there is a cruelty-free logo in North America for beauty products. So vegetarians don't have to read the fine print to know there are no animal products in their marmite or ketchup.

Not surprisingly, "natural flavorings" are not as prevalent. These seemingly innocent words appear regularly on labels in North America, hiding the fact that they can be derived from animals or genetically-modified organisms. I don't buy products that contain natural flavorings. When Stoneyfield yogurt started including them, I wrote to ask if the flavorings they used were vegetarian. They responded that they have no way to know. I stopped eating their yogurt.

Our first meal in London was at a pub (surprise!) which had both veggie and meat pies. There were a variety of sauces one could order with the pie. I ordered one, and a few minutes later the waitress came back to apologize because they could not be certain that the sauce I had ordered to go with my pie was vegetarian. They thought it was, but they couldn't guarantee it.

If American waiters were as conscientious, they would warn vegetarians about pretty much everything on the menu. Because natural flavors are an integral part of the American eating experience, whether they're derived from pigs or cows or berries. And the flavoring companies don't tell you the source - trade secrets, you know.

So it was a relief to be back in England, land of the cranky vegetarians, after a week in Paris, land of the arrogant carnivores.

Poilâne

You might remember me writing about trying a recipe by the great French baker Pierre Poilâne (you can read that post here).

The original Poilâne bakery still exists in Paris, so of course we had to visit it.

It's a small shop with racks of bread at the sides and in the window, and a woman at the cash register at the back. Two other women served the customers. When I say it was small, 6 customers standing around meant there was no room to move. Larry went outside while I browsed.

Poilâne was famous for not making baguettes. Instead he made giant round loaves called miches.

There was no way Larry and I could eat a miche between us. It would have lasted us days. We would have had to eat it instead of croissants. We would have had to take it on the airplane (what would we tell customs? Would it fit in my carry-on?).

So I looked for something smaller. There were no signs saying what each loaf was, and at this point in the trip my brain was worn out from conversing in French (as a Montrealer, I'm embarrassed to say that, but I have lived in LA for 15 years). So I pointed, smiled, paid and escaped into the street, clutching my small loaf.

It was an egg bread, I think, a little too light, puffy and white for full satisfaction, but still good.

We took it, along with our leftover cheese from lunch a couple of days before, to Luxembourg Gardens for a picnic dinner. We sat on a bench with our bread and cheese. A community orchestra of children and grown-ups played Irish jigs and ragtime in the nearby bandstand. It was a great Paris experience.

Salad for Lunch

We got caught in the rain strolling through the Marais, and found shelter under the awning of this little café. (We didn't keep track of the names of the places we ate at. Next time.)

Instead of our regular lunch of bread, cheese and salad, we had individual salads. Mine was an excellent green salad with a tangy vinaigrette. The toast holds a slice of slightly warmed well-aged stinky cheese.

Wonderful.

Pain au chocolat

I know - You're saying "Joy, this is supposed to be a blog on healthy eating. Why are you showing me pain au chocolat? Is it a new health food?"

Unfortunately not.

But I ate it anyway.

At home, I eat organic and healthy. When I travel, I let down my hair a little. I won't avoid croissants or cheese or baguette (or red wine, for that matter) when I visit Paris. That would feel weird.

Food in Europe is generally not as pesticided or processed as it is in North America. We eat real food, not fast food, when we travel, and I still don't eat meat or fish because I prefer not to. We walk miles every day when we're in a city, so I don't worry about the calories, and it really is part of the adventure to sit down and eat something very local.

Ah yes, that's my justification for all this decadent food - I was supporting the local food movement!

This was a mid-morning café allongé and pain au chocolat (we split one between us) in a café outside Père Lachaise Métro on our way to see Jim Morrison's grave.

Yes, it was as delicious as it looks.

Bergamot

At the end of our first day in Paris, we ate dinner at Bergamot, a restaurant near Faubourg St. Germain on the left bank. Bergamot is a herb (also known as monarda or bee balm) so not surprisingly fresh herbs played a part in all the dishes.

I had pasta - a vegetarian stand-by. The penne was mixed with a small amount of tomato sauce to make it orange, tossed with some cooked carrots and zucchini, and served with fresh mint, basil and chives sprinkled on top. Very nice.

Larry had a piece of meat. On the side came the meal's highlight - a round of mashed potatoes topped with a drizzle of pesto and half a cherry tomato.

The round was made by packing the mashed potatoes into a tall round cookie cutter (or by cutting rounds out of a rectangular dish of mashed potatoes - I don't know which).

Round things were very popular in Paris. At a cooking store we visited, I found a French cookbook devoted to preparing food using these tall round metal shapes. I did not buy the book. That's just too fussy for me.

But I do plan to drizzle pesto over mashed potatoes - it really is an excellent match.

Lunch on rue Rivoli

We enjoy wandering the streets of Paris. After a stroll through the flower market on Ile de la Cité we crossed over to rue Rivoli in search of lunch.

We found a table at a sidewalk café on the busy boulevard where we could watch pedestrians, cyclists, cars and fire engines navigate the busy street and sidewalk in front of us.

We shared a green salad, a magnificent cheese plate, and a carafe of red wine.

Is there a better way to spend a lunch hour in Paris?

The cheese was exceptional, and there was a lot of it. Our waiter was shocked we couldn't eat it all, and offered "un doggy bag." He carefully wrapped the cheese in foil so no kind touched another. We weren't sure when we would find time to eat our leftover cheese, but we dutifully carried it back to our hotel room.

Breakfast in Paris

The next morning we left our hotel in search of breakfast. A bakery down the street smelled great. We were told the croissants would be out of the oven in 2 minutes. We waited. Wow. Best croissants ever.

Dinner in Paris

Larry and I recently returned from a trip to Paris and London. While I don't have pictures of all the meals I ate, I do have some good stories which I'll share with you over the next couple of weeks.

We got into Paris later than expected because of the air traffic controllers strike. After checking into our hotel near Bvd. St. Michel, we headed out for a late dinner. Late for me - it was 10 p.m. But many people were eating at the brasseries and cafés in the neighborhood.

It is not easy to be a vegetarian in Paris. This first night I ordered a dinner salad - a large salad of many vegetables, hard boiled eggs and a mustardy vinaigrette. I asked that it come without the ham.

The waiter proudly presented me the salad with pieces of chicken on top instead of the ham. I told him actually I wanted it with no meat. "Au naturel (naked)?" he questioned. Yes, I assured him. He brought the salad back with no meat. "Tant pis pour vous, (too bad for you)" he said as he rushed off.

Montreal Cheese

Larry and I spent the last couple of weeks visiting my mum in Montreal.

Montreal in the summer is all about sitting outside, preferably with un bon café or a cold drink, watching the world go by.

We sat outside on great terrasses - McAuslan's pub on the Lachine Canal, Brûlerie St. Denis on rue St. Denis, Winston Churchill's on Crescent St., The Black Lion Pub on the Lakeshore, Juliette et Chocolat on Laurier.

Possibly the best terrasse was my mum's patio, where we watched the fireflies dart around the garden in the twilight. (We don't have fireflies in L.A., so this was a real treat.)

The hot humid weather made simple meals attractive, and some of the best meals we ate started at the fromagerie Atwater in the Atwater Farmers Market.

It was one of our first stops after we landed, and we picked up enough cheese for a few days.

I walked up to the cheese counter and announced that I was visiting with my husband - un Américain - and I wanted him to experience the bon goût du fromage québécois. My French is rusty, but the young man behind the counter was up for the challenge.

He suggested a sampling of Quebec cheeses, starting with the mild and moving to the more flavorful. He selected his favorite mild cheese, came around the counter, and gave us each a piece. Mum was off wandering the store, but he tracked her down to give her cheese. What a good guy. She stayed next to the counter after that.

He described each of the cheeses in French and again in English to accommodate Larry. (As the visit wound on, there was less French and more English. He knew his audience.) We bought a little of each of the four cheeses he recommended: Pied-de-Vent, a raw cow's milk cheese from the Magdalene Islands in the St. Lawrence River;  Louis d'Or 24 mois, a washed-rind raw organic cow's milk cheese from Ste. Elizabeth de Warwick,  Cheddar Brittania (Larry's favorite - a good sharp cheddar, $42.99 a kilo, but we only bought $2.59 worth), and Victor & Berthold, a semi-soft cheese with a washed rind from Notre Dame de Lourdes.

Cheese, baguette, salade verte. Lunches don't get much better than that.

Dining in Rehoboth

East Coast Trip Part 10

Our final leg of the trip was a couple of nights at Rehoboth Beach on the Delaware Shore.

Larry grew up vacationing a little further south at Fenwick Island. I like Rehoboth because it has sand dunes and a long beach, a walkable boardwalk, and great food.

There was a little Italian store, Touch of Italy Bake Shop, where if we had been self-catering I would have gone wild on Italian pastas, dried mushrooms and canned tomatoes. As it was, I restrained myself to a little cheese and a few cookies.

We walked to the Dogfish Head brewpub (motto: Off-Centered Ales for Off-Centered People). We had enjoyed reading about the passion of owner Sam Calagione in the New Yorker in 2008. I forget what we drank there, but it was really good. They also distil spirits, and we toured the distillery. We later saw them featured on the Discovery Channel making Chicha, an Incan beer that requires the grain to be chewed before brewing. Prepare to be disgusted if you watch the short clip on the Brew Masters website.

We happened to be in Rehoboth when the farmers market was open, and I enjoyed looking at the local produce, even though I had no need to buy any.

Finally, we celebrated our anniversary at my favorite Rehoboth restaurant, Planet X Café. I had an excellent mushroom risotto (the secret was the truffle oil drizzled on at the last minute) and a glass of organic wine while we enjoyed the over-the-top conversations of the people around us. (On a previous trip I had swooned over the stacked eggplant dish - I might try to recreate it next summer.)

After a last sunrise over the Atlantic, we headed for Washington Dulles and our flight home to LA. It had been a good trip.

Chesapeake City, MD

East Coast Trip Part 9

Upon leaving Ben and Tanya's, we stopped at Spring Run Natural Foods, an independent health food store in Kennett Square, PA, that reminded me of the ones I frequented in Montreal in the '80s - homey, decorated in wood and dark green paint, earnestly healthy, with lots of real food. There we found Hillacres Pride Lancaster County Family Tradition Garden Dill 100% raw jersey milk cheese. It made great sandwiches through the rest of our trip.

Our next stop was Chesapeake City, MD, on the Chesapeake & Delaware Canal. We've stayed there before because it's close to many of Larry's aunts and uncles. We stay at the Shipwatch Inn because we love the verandah overlooking the canal, but the breakfasts are execrable. Better to starve.

We ate dinner at The Bayard House, an establishment dating to the 1780s. We sat outside watching the water traffic. Once we saw a huge ocean liner that towered above us. We enjoyed watching the river pilots help steer it under the bridge. There's a lot of traffic on this working canal between the Chesapeake and Delaware Bays.

Larry enjoyed fresh seafood, and the chef made me a fine plate of vegetarian pasta. When I'm eating in a higher-end establishment with no vegetarian options, I always ask if the chef can create a meal for me. I am rarely disappointed.

We ended the evening with a stroll along the streets of this quaint Victorian town, enjoying a slight drizzle while Larry took pictures.

The next morning I had tea on the verandah watching the mist burn off the canal.

Then on to the final stop on the tour - Rehoboth Beach.

Thai Coleslaw

East Coast Trip Part 8

From Baltimore we drove into Pennsylvania to stay with our nephew Ben and his family just outside Philadelphia.

We strolled through Longwood Gardens; bought fresh donuts and organic beet chips at the local country store; admired fields of sunflowers; and enjoyed good food, wine and company.

Tanya was training for a triathlon, and her coach had given her this recipe for Thai Coleslaw. It tastes so good, it's hard to remember that it's health food.

Once you've cleaned and stemmed the herbs, it's quick to make in the food processor. The combination of fresh mint, basil and cilantro is the key. Add some chives if you'd like an oniony zip.

This is the perfect post-holiday dish - zesty and nutritious.

Thai Coleslaw
3 cups finely shredded cabbage
1 cup finely shredded zucchini (1 medium)
1 cup finely shredded carrots (2-3 medium)
1 cup mint leaves
2 cups basil leaves
2 cups cilantro leaves

Dressing:
2 tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup tamari
2 tbsp honey
1/4 cup olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 inch piece ginger, grated
1 tsp chili powder
1 1/2 tbsp curry powder

Put the herbs in the food processor and mince finely. Change to the grating blade for the zucchini and carrots. Then either use the slicer blade for the cabbage, or slice it by hand. Tip the slaw into a large bowl.

Whisk the dressing ingredients together. Stir into the vegetables.

Serves 6

Whole Foods

East Coast Trip part 7

On our way from Maryland to Pennsylvania we stopped at the Baltimore Inner Harbor, where we found a Whole Foods, bought bread and fruit to go with our Amish cheese, and picnicked by the water.

I rarely shop at Whole Foods when I'm at home - I prefer to support the farmers market and my local independent health food store - but when travelling I gravitated towards it like the stereotypical American in Paris honing in on McDonald's.

At the Whole Foods in Arlington, VA, we picked up salads that we ate at a service center on the Pennsylvania Turnpike - way better than any of the fast food options available.

It's so easy to eat badly when on the road, but carrying healthy food and being disciplined about not eating in the car meant we ended our road trip the same size we started it - not an easy feat in Fast Food America.

Traveling Vegetarian

East Coast Trip Part 6

From Pittsburgh we drove across the state to York, PA, where we had a cook-out with Larry's brothers and their wives.

Randy barbecued chicken, and I was happy to see that he did not grill vegetables too. That is not a slur on Randy's barbecuing ability, but there is an art to vegetarian barbecue. I have appeased too many meat-eaters by choking down the charred yet half-raw vegetables they threw on the grill especially for me. If you invite a vegetarian to a barbecue, do what Randy and Lorraine did and serve lots of great side dishes.

I enjoyed fresh corn on the cob, black beans, creamy noodles, green salad - a great vegetarian meal.

The next morning we drove south to Maryland's western shore to visit Susan and Rich. Susan sang at our wedding in Montreal in 1998, and we'd only seen her once since. This was the first time I had visited her stables and riding arena, and met the horses.

For dinner we went to Solomons Island and ate on the pier watching the sunset.

When my mother and I drove from Montreal to South Carolina in 1986, traveling as a vegetarian was a real challenge. Everyone served seafood and french fries. Salads were iceberg lettuce with a wedge of tomato if you were lucky. Even fancy restaurants had limited options. Further inland, vegetable soup had beef in it.

I'm happy to report that times have changed for the better. We ate at a place called Solomons Pier. Larry had crab cakes - his favorite - and I had a great salad (although a litttle too heavy on the dried cranberries) with feta and pecans for protein. We all shared an order of hush puppies - gotta have something fried - which were really good.

I was sorry we only had one night to spend on the Maryland shore, but we were on a schedule. Next stop Baltimore.

PA cheese please

East Coast Trip Part 5

From Pittsburgh we drove northeast to Amish country. Near the town of Smicksburg we found a shop that sold cheese made from milk supplied by local Amish dairy farmers.

When I'm traveling, I love to try the local cheeses. Amish dairy farms don't use pesticides, chemical fertilizers or growth hormones, so their cheese fits right in with my organic philosophy.

Larry had picked up a flyer for an Amish cheese factory, but we found it had closed amidst rumors that the Englishers who opened it were ripping off the Amish.

We continued up the road and found B & B Country Cheese Shoppe, where they sell a wide variety of local cheese, respect the Amish, and are respected by them.

While we were at the cheese shop, a local farmer drove up in his buggy. Larry chatted with him and asked if he could take a picture of his buggy. You can see why.

Although we were spending nights at the homes of various friends and relatives, our days were spent on the road. Picnics of good bread, cheese and fruit made a great lunch. Way better than any of the fast food options on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

One of the pleasures of a cheese shop is tasting before buying. And I tasted many varieties at B & B Cheese Shoppe. Because Smicksburg is near the Pennsylvania / Ohio border, the store sold cheese from Ohio Amish dairies like Heinis and Yancey Fancey as well as PA cheese. I bought some garden yogurt cheese (tangy) and spicy Buffalo Wing Hot Sauce Cheddar (way spicy!). I also picked up some fresh cheese curds - the kind that squeak when you chew them. They evoked fond memories of poutine in Montreal.

(If you're in Smicksburg, it's just a short jaunt to see Punxsutawney Phil, the weather-forecasting groundhog. We headed south instead.)

As usual, I bought more cheese than we needed. We learned to freeze water bottles in our hosts' freezers overnight to use as ice packs to keep our cheese cold.

The Amish cheese was delicious, and got us through to Philadelphia, where I found a health food store to re-stock. You can never have too much good cheese.

Pierogi in Pittsburgh

East Coast Trip Part 4

From Washington, DC, we drove northwest to Pittsburgh, PA, to visit our friends Dave and Becky.

Dave and Larry were childhood friends who lost touch when Dave moved from eastern PA to western PA after grade 5. Last year, through the wonders of Google, they reconnected. And we made a point of seeing them on our east-coast tour.

They took us to a ball game at PNC Park, on the Allegheny River in Pittsburgh. The tickets were four rows behind home plate, and came with a pre-game buffet in the Home Plate Club.

For a vegetarian, it was a step up from Dodger Stadium. I had to search, but I found a mixed-greens salad and a beautiful heirloom tomato salad.

I filled out the meal with fettucine alfredo, and a token pierogi when I was assured that it was filled with potatoes and onions - no meat. Pierogi are Eastern European dumplings. They are a big deal in Pittsburgh.

What amused me most was the guys filling their plates with beef medallions and fettucine alfredo. No vegetables for them.

Outside in the stadium, young men swarmed Primanti Brothers, a Pittsburgh institution whose signature sandwich is grilled meat, coleslaw, tomato slices and french fries between two pieces of Italian bread. The story is that in the 1930s, busy truckers needed to be able to eat with one hand while driving.

During the 7th inning stretch, I watched giant pierogi race around the field.

It was a memorable trip to Pittsburgh.