Something Like Dave And Busters

Welcome

Dear readers,
As you probably noticed it, I have been largely neglecting my blog recently.
I could say I had so much work, a book after an other, I could say I spent months down on my knees or up a ladder turning a slum apartment back into a clear office/studio/pied à terre in Paris but the truth is I really needed a break.
And a break it is : right now I am typing on my MacBook on flight CO11 to Austin via Houston with 115 minutes battery left. In about 9 hours, I’m gonna be in a man’s arms, my cosmic brother’s, as I call him.
I can recall clearly the day Eric stepped into my life, or should I say my caterer kitchen in Montreal. It was a day of 1991, I don’t think it was one of these -25°C February days where we had to break the ice that formed on the door to open the shop. I don’t think either it was one one of this scorching humid NewYork like summer days where the staff was on the verge of fainting by the stove and where I would pray for the fridges not to die.
I like the idea that the day I met Eric was a sweet day. Next think I know, after 5 minutes, he had put an apron and I was showing him how to make mayo for a crowd from…Oh my God …RAW eggs, i.e. a lethal French specialty coming from the Old World, a filthy land where nobody has never heard of Hellman’s mayo and even less of Kraft Foods
Eric was born in NewBrunswick, from his chilhood’s house he could spot the whales. He told me about his gourmet father who was begging the fishermen not to throw the scallops roe to the sea as they usually did. He also told me how the same fishermen would crush the kingcrabs who dared entering lobster traps and angrily throw them back to agonize in the sea, about the rivers hosting more salmons than water (so numerous they could have been caught with bare hands), boiled by locals into a pulp in a huge vat of insanely boiling water with starchy potatoes and a handfull of salt.
That day Eric and I started that bottomless foodies conversation.
There was a time where we both burnt our hands and brains in different kitchens but we never lost contact. For catering years he was eating like cooks do (and like I did for years), helplessly, hardly seating, wrenching ones guts, anything from lasagna, half cooked chicken from the pan to whipped cream licked from the whisp.. He started to grow a nice belly on balloney sandwiches from a jewish hole in the wall at the corner of Clark and St Joseph called Willensky. The staff over there used to bark the thin rye « special » sandwiches at your face. There was a large sign saying something like : « No changes for special, don’t even bother ask for no mustard, we won’t do it ». There were also used books for sale. They were covered with decades of greasy dirt and nobody ever dared touch or even dare buy one I believe.
Then Eric turned vegetarian, then vegan, lost his little Buddha’s belly, became slim and lean by feeding on cucumber crush. Now he is back to pleasure and reason, even if he stopped coffee and can give me lectures about the benefit of that uncredible organic japanese tea he buys from Whole Foods for the price of gold and drinks by the gallon. He became a very discriminating foodie who can get a kick from gulf shrimps as well as tacones from a wheelcart. With his Mexican wife Ana he can’t wait to show me around while we passionately discuss the line between Tex and TexMex.
Our paths parted but not our hearts, we swore to eachother that if we happened to be both alone in our old days we would grow our food together, in my house at the feet of Cevennes.
Ok, now, back to flight C011. I just had the "less worst" plane chicken and mashed potatoes of my life, was happy to realize that Continental Airlines understood that nobody could possibly slaughter a pilot with a plastic spoon and provide toy like but real stainless knife and fork !
Then I hear the French : « Austin ? What ? », Texas food ???
Enough with prejudiced ideas, a US food trip is a real food trip, this is not Kazakhstan (OK, I have to admit my opinion on Kazakhstan is a little bit Borat biased).
For those who believe chili is a mexican dish and that Lina’s invented pecan pie, who buy chiken wrap in Lafayette gourmet and guacamole in Picard…for the others who take Buffalo Grill and Indiana Café for Tex Mex …
For those who call four plastic wrapped merguez, 3 fluorescent pink and charred chipolatas and 2 shriveled lamb chops a barbecue, fasten your seat belt and grab to whatever you can :
Chipotles, pecan, mesquite, Sunday evangelist BBQ, chimichangas, beanless chili, tacos, Whole Foods and sorts, fancy Texan Japanese fusion and greasy spoons of all sorts, here we go…
And for 3 weeks from now, my blog will be in English, ça vous fera des devoirs de vacances, voilà et bon appétit…

First stop, first breakfast, on Austin Ist street, a hilly road lined with fancy hippy sheds turned trendy eateries and decoration shops. This institution taqueria reminds me of Yucatan, the noise of the sea replaced by the endless traffic of pickups driving downhill.
Inside and outside, the walls are covered with decades of arty, thriftshop paraphernalia with a tropical beach meets California meets Vermont laidback cafe style feeling.

Breakfast tacos and migas

Wheat tortilla with scrambled eggs with bacon and cheese, differents salsas on self service :
traditional "pico de gallo", tomato, onion, lime juice and cilantro or salsa verde : crushed jalapeno, lime and cilantro and "migas" : corn tortillas filled with...I am lost already
Let me explain : for 2 days already, I have been trying to understand the difference between Mexican and Tex Mex Food, Ana is Mexican from Vera Cruz and Eric Canadian, they have been living in Texas for years .
The discussion has been passionate and what I understood basically is :
Texans took the mexican cuisine and "muted" it, erasing the tastes, making it milder and duller
Mex use a little bit of fresh cheese but Tex drown the food in melted Kraft style cheese.
Mex favour fresh corn tortillas (made from crushed and boiled corn that has been soaked overnight in caustic soda solution to loosen the corn skin) over flour tortillas because they are much denser and flavourfull.
Mex make "queso fondido" they scoop with tortilla when Tex invented "nachos" : fried tortillas topped with beans, tomato, onion and melted grilled cheese (it seems real Mex laugh hard when they serve this dish to american tourists in Cancun).
Tex mix everything in tortillas : beans, ground meat, cover with cheese, put it under the grill (Mex never grill) and call the dish chimichangas.
Mex prefer slow cooked meat they shred and put on tortillas and always get some "zing" from sharp fresh toppings such as cilantro and lime. Basically Mex is fresher, tastier, sharper...
Difficult to tell because this 2 cuisines are deeply intricated geographically.

Queso fondido with chorizo and smoked dried chilies

Rainbow Swing Set Lifespan

to Texas all in the egg (famine, mimosa, hunting ...)

Je me suis amusée récemment pour l’Express Styles à « revisiter "The egg. I will gladly book
my favorite recipe:

Photo Pierre Javelle

Egg fried tapenade

vinegar tomatoes (Mutti) is found in delicatessens.
can replace it with a good sherry vinegar.
can prepare everything in advance, and frying eggs at the last moment.
Serves 4:
5 eggs (at least a week if they are very difficult to peel them)
2 slices of bread dry
100 grams of pitted black olives
50g flour
2 small cans of diced tomato pulp
4 tbsp. tablespoon olive oil 1 clove garlic 1 tablespoon . Coffee Sugar 4 anchovy olive oil 2 tbsp
. vinegar tomato
pepper
¼ l of oil for frying olive

Peel and chop the garlic. In a skillet, lightly do lightly in olive oil and then add tomatoes and sugar. Let it reduce slowly until a "stewed" about 20 minutes, add the anchovies and let them melt. In mixer bowl, cut the bread into crumbs then place in bowl. Then chop the black olives, drained well, pat dry thoroughly chopped by pushing it into several sheets of absorbent paper and then mix it with breadcrumbs. Prepare another bowl with the flour. In a third bowl, beat egg with fork. Put the four remaining eggs in a saucepan, cover with cold water and bring to a boil. It takes 3 minutes from the boil and plunge eggs into cold water. The peel them carefully, they are so fragile calves. Heat the frying oil. Pass successively boiled eggs in flour then egg and finally bread crumbs olive pressing well with hands to make a shell thickness of 2mm. Fry about a minute by rolling them in oil, just enough time to brown the crumbs. Drain on absorbent paper and serve immediately with tomato sauce cold or hot depending on your taste. Drizzle with vinegar on the plate and give a round of pepper mill. After

turnip pedigree (Diploma in Market Street President Wilson), that the egg is a tendency, at least if you believe the press releases surrounding the treatment Passard inflicts his own, that of a variety of hens sponding very rare dark sesame, red cabbage, beets ... matcha tea. In
trend back to true values, the bobo Parigot swears by the egg-mayo, it can ramble on about the character of his mayo and holding his leaf lettuce.
As far as I can remember, there has always been in the kitchen a basket or a basket of wire filled with eggs. We were self-sufficient in vegetables but did not have chickens. In the Cevennes, my parents had to buy the heart of chickens, rabbits and eggs in the corner * gavots. Buy the best eggs, recognizable by the height of the pile of corn husks on the floor of the court mas, and compare them with us has always been a sport taken very seriously. (So you do not cut your appetite, I'll do an ellipse on chickens and rabbits live back at home and beheaded with a machete on the block used for splitting wood for the stove, though there would have enough anecdotes for a post they have guts).
The new generation of writers culinary girl baby boomers, it's hardly the stories of famine and war are those of their grandparents. I have personally heard and heard again the stories of deprivation. Is that why I always struggle to close the door of my refrigerator? Is that why I say to the world at steadily catching up in extremis the Ziploc that fall when I open the freezer, "You never know if there was war? "
Is that what I stored fat on me?
What does my therapist?
Okay I digress. So the occupation. Free zone, certainly, but famine still. My mother tells me the days go to the barn in hopes of an egg (for 3) and omelettes "no eggs": flour, water and salt. She tells me the blessing of Spring where the hens to lay recovering (after a near stop in the winter, down light requires).
The Passover meal is a bit our Thanksgiving to us full version cholesterol: devilled eggs, lamb or goat or chicken, eggs and snow atria, eggs wazoo. Eggs in the snow, local curiosity, a bay leaf, almond, highly toxic but just infused into the cream taste almond bitter and withdrawn. In
pilgrimage last week in the kitchen of my mother I had the idea to remake the devilled eggs that have rocked our Easter meal, it should be at the very least thirty years that I had not done my son did not even tasted ... the *

gavot is a rough peasant Cevennes and elusive, curiously, he still lives "above" or "lowest"

eggs mimosa

Put the eggs in a small saucepan, cover with cold water and bring to the boil. Count 6 minutes from the boil put them in cold water. When thoroughly cold, peeled them, cut them in half and put the yellow side. In a small bowl, mix a can of tuna in brine well drained with the same amount of homemade mayonnaise half olive oil and half sunflower oil and pepper. Garnish the mixture with the whites. Put the yolks in a strainer fine mesh sieve and mash them with the back of a spoon over the eggs to the "mimosa." Serve chilled on lettuce leaves.


For my part, I prefer to take tuna olive oil and recover oil to use them in mayonnaise.
As for choosing the hunting ground of inspiration, no, my mother was not advised by Masha Makeieff. While I am sorry she has not bought a Provencal oilcloth, countered that she had just in our region of scrub hunters, this pattern was the bestseller in the market of Sant'Ambrogio. Of course, I could only bow.

"And if there is not enough, it will make eggs"