charlotteann

It’s true, I do. Paris was really awesome and I really enjoyed spending the 2006-2007 school year abroad there. I mean, it’s Paris. How can you not miss it? Well, not everyone loves it, and not everyone loves the French. Some of you out there hate the French, whether for a good or bad reason. Although I have to say, in my slightly biased opinion that most of the reasons are bad. And all of those reasons - good and bad - just seem like total clichés to me. I can’t even write about them without feeling like a tool, so I won’t. I will just talk about galettes.

Galette with ham and gruyère cheese

A galette, also known as a savory crêpe or a buckwheat crêpe, is really awesome like Paris but you can eat it. It’s like eating Paris. Actually, the galette originates in Bretagne (Brittany) where buckwheat was a cheap alternative to regular wheat, which was taxed. Buckwheat arrived via the crusaders from Asia. I guess religious wars can have their perks.

When we visited Bretagne and Normandy, we ate so many apples and apple-based dishes I can barely remember Mont St. Michel or the D-Day beaches. But when I was in Paris, I took a photography course near the Jussieu métro that serves the nearby Université Denis Diderot. Consequently, a crêpe-making superstar serves throngs of students across the street from the métro entrance. I unfortunately never learned this woman’s name, but she was incredibly kind and sold me several enormous, cheap galettes au jambon-fromage. The classic of course is the galette complète which contains cheese, ham, and an egg. I dislike eggs. My life is incomplete without them I know, so save your energy.

Following the recipe in Culinaria France by Andre Domine (recipe below) I whipped up a batch of galette batter substituting melted butter for lard. Moments later (like I was really going to let it sit overnight) I was enjoying the earthy flavor of buckwheat coupled with grated gruyère and Black Forest ham. Salty, gooey, good.

And now for the photos!

Butter on hand as the crêpe pan heats up

Sliced ham. Yum.

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So I braved the crowds on Saturday at the Ferry Plaza Famers’ Market. Among the bridge and tunnelers, the tourists, and the other locals who slept in, were scads of fabulous looking produce. Although the Ferry Plaza market has more variety in terms of vendors and prepared foods, it’s more expensive than the Civic Center market I usually visit on Sundays. I bought carrots, onions, potatoes, fresh herbs, arugula, an eggplant, mushrooms, and wheat grass for the cat. Then I went home and tried to style them into a still life.

Unfortunately, I am no stylist. The composition is fine, I think, but the balance of the original colors is totally off. Thus, a black and white image is born! I eventually gave up trying to arrange my produce and gave in to the rumble in my tummy and made a delicious salad.

I know what you’re thinking, “Charlotte, you should TOTALLY give up photography and get into graphic design cuz you’re sooo talented, obvi!”

But seriously, there is a multitude of take-out options in my neighborhood and I rarely take advantage of any save the pizza place down the street after a night of responsible alcohol consumption. The affectionately so-called Tendernob lies somewhere between the Tenderloin (smells like pee) and Nob Hill (smells like money) features many different cuisines, especially if you are willing to expand its borders to the upper blocks of the ‘Loin. There are Chinese, Vietnamese, Thai, Mexican, and Indian restaurants scattered among the dive bars and liquor stores. A few blocks up and you see more Thai, pizza, the famous Pearl’s burgers, and even an Indonesian place catering to the hotels and Academy of Art students. And me, I live here. When I’m lazy I’ll make instant ramen instead of getting take-out, but when I’m sick and the dishes are piling up and I haven’t showered in two days, I’ll spend the dough on a couple entrées if only for comfort’s sake.

Enter the Osha Thai Noodle Café on Geary St., a mere two blocks from my building. Osha is a family-owned thing, and this nearest location is apparently the original amongst the seven locations in San Francisco. It’s open until 3 AM on Fridays and Saturdays and every time I’ve walked by on such an evening it’s packed. In fact, it usually looks busy. A fact I coupled with a recent article from 7×7: The 2010 Eat+Drink Reader’s Choice Awards to pick Osha for this maiden voyage of Take-Out Tuesday. In short, it was not so good. In length, allow me to explain using words and pictures.

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It’s been a little over two weeks since my 10-day vacation to Portland, Oregon. I wish I had tried more of the street food vendors but overall I think I ate pretty well. Apizza Scholl’s was at the top of my food to-do list, which didn’t have much else on it as specific: food served from a truck, local fare, and noodles (obvs). I accomplished all of these things, and more! But for the sake of brevity and an inflated sense of content on this blog, I will not be covering everything I ate and photographed in one post. No, I shall draw it out, probably over the next two weeks. Let’s start with breakfast!

I already mentioned the totally delicious breakfast I had at Jam on Hawthorne, but let’s talk about the pho I had for my morning repast a couple days later at Pho Gia in Northeast Portland.

Pho Tai

It was really quite good but a bit heavy on the noodles and light on the beef.

Noodle overload!

Plenty of yelp reviewers had mentioned the clovey sweetness of Pho Gia’s broth and I agree but without issue. Aside from over-noodling, my only other problem was with the onions: having not been entirely severed from the core (?) the slices were all stuck together and difficult to separate. Is that too nitpicky? I don’t think so. Enjoying pho should be easy and uninhibited. After slurping as many noodles and spoonfuls of broth I could possibly contain, I drank my ca phe sua da (good, but not especially strong).

All done!

So that’s it for today, kids. I’ll be back soon with tales of the not-so-good noodles, the meat stuffed with other meat, and, of course, the pizza.

Hey gang. Times are tough and I know you’re sick of hearing about it. But there are relatively healthy solutions out there for those of us enjoying funemployment and/or trying to make it as an artist. Even if they aren’t very healthy you can at least feel comforted by them. Take for example the humble yet satisfying grilled cheese sandwich.

Grilled cheese sandwich with swiss and goat cheese

The grilled cheese is not only really easy to make, but you can also put whatever is in your fridge cheese-wise on it and it will all melt together in harmony. Some people like to put green things in their grilled cheese sandwiches (I did last May) but I am finding myself less inclined to do so. I think this is because I am actually using my salad spinner and eating actual salad! I hope my mom is reading this…

Just cheese

Then of course we have noodle soup. As much as I love it, instant ramen takes a toll on your system. I know I shouldn’t use the spice packet, but I do and love every salty, chemical-ridden bit of it. So as I as trying to pick out the least horrible of the instants today at the store, I noticed some fresh noodles in the refrigerated section.

Cheap noodles!

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This last week since I returned from Portland has been a little rough. I won’t tell you what happened as I like to keep this blog appetizing for professional purposes, but I will say that yesterday an exterminator came, turned everything I own upside down, and blasted chemicals all over my studio apartment. The cat and I had to vacate the premises for five hours, which I spent doing laundry and seeing Toy Story 3 in 3-D. I enjoyed the movie and almost cried, but not as much as I cried last week. Last week was really lame and now that everything is back to normal - the cat is snoozing peacefully at my feet right now - I am ready to get back in my kitchen.

Despite having spent a fair amount of money taking care of last week’s problem, I splurged a little on a 3lb organic fryer chicken. Being without any fresh herbs or citrus, I decided to season the bird with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and the last of my maple syrup (I never make pancakes anyway). Rubbing liquid in between a dead chicken’s skin and flesh is, in a word, creepy. But I managed and stuck it into the cast iron skillet with some fingerling potatoes, half a chopped onion, and some butter flavored with fresh ginger (removed before cooking).

I stuck it in the oven on the middle rack at 400˚ F and checked on it every 20 minutes or so. The recipe I was loosely following suggested basting the chicken with the cooking juices, but lacking a baster or any visible liquids in the pan I ignored that particular step.

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Inspired by Laura Letinsky.