Chocolat chaud season

Of course it was wonderful to share chocolat chaud with Sylvia and Lionel last month. But one must indulge in Angelina every season.

Ann and I were on the fast track to have pitchers of le chocolat Africain. But then Ann had an idea: should we step up to Jean-Paul Hevin’s new cocoa salon? And see if he was worthy of Le Figaro’s top nod in the city?

Absolutement!

No stranger to this master chocolatier’s phenomenal quality and creativity, I was all too eager.

From the pitcher…

…the pour…

And the verdict? Delish.

Not too thick or chocolaty. Not too rich or sugary. The perfect temperature and a beautiful afternoon treat. But for me, not top-top in this competitive city.

But I’m also not opposed to go back, maybe sit at the counter and watch the chocolabarista at work, mixing in beautiful flavors of matcha, ginger or raspberry.

A good chocolate chip cookie is hard to find

Not so much in New York as in Paris.

This, I was reminded after annihilating a chocolate chip cookie from Birdbath last week. The stacks of deliciousness beckoned to me from the sidewalk, and I, dutifully, went inside for one.


There is something about the gritty-sweet combination of the butter and sugar. The simultaneous texture of crisp and chewy. The studs of dark chocolate. Birdbath’s cookies make my heart sing.

For a year and a half, I’ve been trying to find a replacement fix in Paris. So far, no luck. Eric Kayser is as close as I’ve come.

I know, I know—it looks quite delicious, right?

All those melty pieces of chocolate and the golden, crackling surface?

Looks are deceiving. Or maybe it’s just that I know better. While Paris is gunning to take the torch from New York for cupcake mania, no one has is onto chocolate chip cookies. Yet.

Dessert at Gramercy Tavern

I was just about to state the obvious: that Gramercy Tavern has phenomenal desserts.

But then again, the Danny Meyer landmark is renowned for its cocktails, its environment, its friendliness, its quality, and for its very affordable soup and sandwich combo. What’s not to love about this restaurant?

After indulging in all the aforementioned, Bennie and I didn’t need dessert, but, being who we are, we decided to split one thing, my choice. Always a sucker for bread pudding, I chose the butterscotch bread pudding. Paired with its sweet-tangy pear sorbet, topped with a buttercrunch disc, it was perfection.



But, hey, our kind waitress asked, you don’t mind if we give you another dessert, do you?? Just because? Here, chocolate pudding with a thick layer of salted caramel and toasted brioche croutons.



Giant miam.

Just a little something from Momofuku

Qu’est-ce que c’est??

These funny little balls are wickedly sweet, wacky in conception, perfect over-the-top-deliciousness.

Cake truffles from Momofuku!

I popped into the East Village bakery for a cornflake marshmallow chocolate chip cookie. But, when confronted with the selection, I remembered my friend Mr. B—steadfast source of brilliant music, cocktail and sweets recommendations—telling me I must try Momofuku’s birthday cake truffles.

Still not pleased with the bakery’s decision to individually wrap everything (a disappointing result of the baking no longer being done on the premises), I rationalized that three treats per cellophane baggie is better than one. Besides, it’s my duty to try new things. And listen to Mr. B.


So there I was: with six little cake truffles. Think denser, cakier, sweeter and more granular Munchkins. Genius.

The birthday cake truffles are rainbow cake, vanilla frosting and sprinkles. Eating one is just like being an eight-year-old on a sugar high at a piñata party.

The banana cake truffles are banana cream, hazelnut crunch and gianduja fudge. They're moist little flavor bombs.

The chocolate malt cake and apple pie truffles? A girl can only be so gluttonous. Those, I still have to try.

The most charming baker in Paris

Christophe Vasseur confesses: “I’ve always been good with my hands.”

Add this to the fact that he wanted to quit school at the age of 12 to become a baker—who were like magicians to him, “transforming something so simple into something so good and beautiful with their hands.”—and it makes sense that he’s running one of the most esteemed and delicious bakeries in town: Du Pain et des Idées.

Where to begin? With the bread? (Bonne idée!)

There’s the famous pain des amis, a wonderfully slightly nutty flatbread that is now served at Alain Ducasse’s Plaza Athénée restaurant.

Le Rabelais, a dense brioche with saffron, honey and walnuts.

The mini paves, jammed with deliciousness like sundried tomatoes or spinach and goat cheese.

But really, it’s all about the sweets, isn’t it?

Just look at his viennoiseries: millions of layers of crisp and flaky dreaminess.


They take 34 hours to make. Of course they do, he makes his own (divine) pastry dough.


The chausson aux pommes, made with real apples, not minced jam.

And, my favorite, the tendresse aux pommes, a dense brioche flan with raisins and apples and cinnamon.


Greedy me, I am already plotting my return visit so I can get my own hands on more.

Pink, sweet and gooey

I’ll confess: what really got me at the Salon du Chocolat wasn’t, in fact, chocolate. It was the buttery brioche chockfull of almonds from Valencia and crushed hazelnuts from Piémont, folded and baked together into this irresistibly warm and gooey treat from 1955 called Praluline.

Every time I’ve walked by Pralus on rue Rambuteau, I’ve been curious about this pink-studded ball beckoning from the window. But un grand roule of heavy bread has always seemed like a big investment for just a little taste.

So imagine my giddiness when I saw the sweet treat at the Salon—and saw them actually making it.

(They start ’em young here in France.)

Rolling out the buttery brioche dough. (Nice forearms, non?)

Folding in the pink praline.

Balling them up for the oven.

And letting them cool (and tempt) until…

…they were diced up for sampling.

I won’t even tell you how many circles I made so I could keep scooping up the petit pieces of heaven. But let’s just say, I left with a full belly. And now know I could easily put away one of the grand roules in a sitting. A great return on investment, for future reference.

American Smackdown in Paris: le croissant

Is it really fair to declare that one boulangerie makes the best croissant in all of Paris? Probably not. Is it fun to sample, compare and analyze in the quest to proclaim a reigning city champ? Bien sur.

So for the third American Smackdown in Paris, nine tasters—bloggers and friends, hailing from London, Australia, New Jersey and Paris, including a very special guest appearance by Carol Gillott—came together to declare whose croissant is the flakiest, airiest, most buttery and delicious in all of Paris.

What we were looking for:

The Exterior
A pleasant and consistent color and shape. Does it look like a French croissant? More important, is its shell crisp and flaky, leaving a giant bib of crumbs on your front side?

The Interior
Filled with light, tender layers. Is it stretchy, but not doughy or overly chewy? (A byproduct of overworking the dough, pastry chef Rachel Khoo, shared in her brief but thorough overview of the two-day croissant-making process.)

The Flavor
On a butter scale of “not nearly enough” to “gross, give me a napkin”, it should be squarely in the middle (or a titch on the gross side). A hint of sweet or salty, according to personal preference.

Overall Experience
Maybe it looks perfect, but doesn’t have the crispy bite that shatters crumbs everywhere. Or the inside is lovely and light, but flavorless. The croissant needs to have that certain je ne sais quoi that everything else in France does.



The Croissants
It was not easy coming up with the contenders to go under such scrutiny. In fact, I found it disappointing—sacrilegious, even—that the most current Best Croissant in Paris list was done by Le Figaro in 2006. While there is the official Concours du Meilleur Croissant, and plenty of bloggers who have done their own analyses, you’d think there would be a more celebrated declaration each year.

So for our purposes, I took David Lebovitz’s love for the “buttery beauties” from Au Levain du Marais; Gérard Mulot’s highly acclaimed croissants; and a third mystery contender, just to shake things up and keep it interesting.

And the results? Très surprising...

Au Levain du Marais



Surprisingly, this boulangerie fared the poorest. While the croissants received nods for “perfect form”, their flavor was “flat” and “not buttery” enough. The interior was too “dry”, “dense” and “leaves me wanting.”

Gérard Mulot



Personally, I liked the smaller, tubular shape of Gérard Mulot’s croissants, but that they look more like biscuits than croissants rubbed some people the wrong way. When it came to flavor, however, they reigned supreme: “Buttery”, “very buttery”, “super buttery”—the taste is “what I expect from a croissant”.

Mystery Contender



A near upset, folks! While “quite fluffy” and “perfect form!”, these offered “no crunch”, were “flat” and “flavorless”—perhaps a bit “too uniform”? Still, nearly half the tasters were in favor of these croissants… from Monoprix.

Au final, controversy, surprise, and a little disappointment. “None of them was my perfect croissant,” as Kasia said. Perhaps the fourth American Smackdown in Paris will have to revisit this French classic…