So what do Paul Newman, Sidney Poitier, and a little unassuming jazz club in Paris have in common? Turns out, a lot!

Le Bilboquet, Paris Blues, and the history of jazz are intrinsically intertwined as the history of jazz was written in this inimitable Belle Epoque salon founded in 1947 right in the heart of Saint-Germain-des-Près. Unlike America at the time, jazz was embraced here in France and racism was not pervasive so the greats headed east to Paris and Le Bilboquet.

Jazz music was immortalized at this corner club by legends Billie Holiday, Miles Davis, Kenny Clarke, Duke Ellington, Art Blakey, Dizzy Gilespie, Lionel Hampton and Charlie Parker, to name a few, and the era was celebrated by Paul Newman, Sidney Poitier, Joanne Woodward, and Diahann Carroll in the movie Paris Blues.

Le Bilboquet is now a restaurant-jazz club-piano bar serving up some of the best music in Paris amongst dark wood panels topped with a copper ceiling, brass trim and a sunken bar on the bottom floor. The three levels offer unobstructed views of the band from every corner and on any given night you will hear Nat King Cole's "Route 66" or "Straighten Up and Fly Right" resonating from the walls. You'll catch yourself singing along and tapping your toes as it permeates your thoughts and for a moment you forget you are six thousand miles away from home...but then again, this is home. For now...

Their menu is limited with classical French light fare and a few attempts at fusion. Unfortunately it is not as legendary as their musical memoirs but if you have friends in town who are fans of the blues, this is a wonderful slice of American-French history to share. A friend and former co-worker at a Huge Software Company came to town a few weeks ago. Their yellow labrador is named Jango so I figured Le Bilboquet would be a safe bet. Voila le menu...

Avocat épicé et tartare de thon
Spicy avocado purée with tuna tartar

Melon nature
Melon (and they weren't kidding! this was a bit awkward and more like eating breakfast than an appetizer but as far a fruit goes, it was sweet and delicious)

Pavé de sandre au beurre blanc
Pike in a butter sauce

Thon juste saisi saté
Seared tuna with a soy-teriyaki sauce (this was delicious and cooked perfectly!)

Blanc de poulet rôti, chutney et curry
Roasted chicken breast with chutney and curry (the curry was really nice, not too spicy, deep layers of rich flavors)

The music was getting a bit too loud to talk so we went to a little corner bistro a few blocks away for a café and a gateau chocolate moelleux (the soft chocolate lava cake)! Sorry, forgot to take a pic of that. Next time...as there will definitely be a next time...

Le Bilboquet
13 rue St-Benoit, 75006 Paris
Phone: +33 1 45 48 81 84
Metro: (#4) St-Germain-des-Près or (#10) Mabillon
Hours: nightly 8:30pm to 2:00am, with music beginning at 9:30pm

I do apologize for that title -- it's horrible, isn't it?

In this line of work, it isn't hard to come across good food, great food, or even simply amazing food (*cough*Region*cough*), but coming across truly transcendent food is an entirely different animal (preferably roasted with rosemary salt and served with butter-grilled fingerling potatoes).

I happened across some truly transcendent food a few months ago and then I managed to transcend myself once again a few weeks ago. A business dinner in late June saw me dining at Jai Yun in Chinatown. This isn't the Chinatown of tourists, gates, and rampaging red dragons. This is the Chinatown where the people who work in Chinatown live, play, and, thankfully, eat.

Now, in the interest of full disclosure (since people seem to be all about that these days), I must admit that my first visit wasn't an auspicious one. The seven of us sat down and looked at the menu. But there isn't a menu. At Jai Yun, the wee little home of the best authentic Shanghaiese food in the city, you order by price and put your stomach in the hands of the chef, who cooks whatever is fresh and wonderful at that day's market. The prices start at $35 per person and go all the way up to $150 per person.

I was eating with food magazine people and, predictably, they are people who know their food and know their restaurants but this had us flummoxed. What do you order? How do you know if it's enough? We settled on the $35 per person option and waited. The first course came out and was placed on a lazy susan in front of us. We all stared. It was a tiny heap of something. None of us knew exactly what it was because we were all so aghast at the portion size that no one heard the waitress' description. Surely more was coming! Well, more came, but they were also tiny heaps of something. I'm not saying it wasn't tasty, because it was, really, really tasty! It's just that with seven overly-polite people, with no one wanting to appear greedy, each of us would take a single leaf or bean between our chopsticks, place it on our plate, and spin the dish to the next person. At most, we all got a single small mouthful of each dish. Sometimes, when no one else liked the dish, a few of us got lucky and got a bit more as a result.

It became funny after awhile. By some form of starved logic, we became convinced that we were only going to get eleven courses, but I lost count after thirteen. Admittedly, the portions did become slightly bigger as the meal wore on. We ended with best Kung Pao Chicken I've ever tasted -- all lightness and fiery spice -- and a glistening pile of amazing stir-fried eggplant that haunted me for months. By the end, we got quite silly with suggestions that we all go out for a burger. However, on the way home I was struck by something interesting: I wasn't hungry. I wasn't full. I was just...pleasantly sated. Too many times I've risen from an elaborate, expensive meal to feel as though all I want to do is have my stomach amputated, or, failing that, sleep a very long time. Of course, when you're that full, even sleep is painful. This feeling that I had experienced so many varied flavors, yet wasn't going home thinking that a vomitorium would be a great addition to the apartment, was a novel one.

I was so taken by this novel feeling, this unique experience, that I knew I would give Jai Yun another taste. To celebrate our return to San Francisco after our summer in San Diego, my husband and I back to Jai Yun and decided on the $45 menu for two. It was still a point of confusion for me about what exactly determines the price -- was it number of courses? Amount of food at each course? Number of courses and amount of food together? None of this really made sense, but several knowledgeable friends told me it was more about the price of ingredients used than anything else. So, if you pay a higher price, you might get the more expensive fish instead of the tofu, or the pounded abalone instead of the seaweed.

I had already told Mathra all about my first visit to Jai Yun, so he was well-prepared and quite eager to see what the hell it was all about.

Jai Yun is the most literal hole-in-the-wall I've ever seen. There's one room that seats maybe twenty-five people at most, a tall cooler with soft drinks and beers, and Christmas decorations on the walls. There appears to only be one seating per night but I think you can choose your own time when you make your reservation.

By the end of our meal, we had been served eighteen courses in the form of shredded cucumber; tofu; jellyfish; smoked and glazed fish; poached cold duck; shaved lotus root with sesame oil; parsley with pine nuts and mushrooms; dried beef; hot, pounded abalone with beaten egg whites; gluten with red pepper and yellow chives; fat, glossy shrimp with three kinds of peppers; tofu and beans with scallions and edamame; crispy orange beef; chinese celery with tofu and yellow chive; squishy noodles with leeks ginger, and peppers; green tomato and parsley; seasoned ground chicken; and finally, as a perfect end to a transcendent night, that lovely sweet-sticky stir-fried eggplant with ginger, scallions, red pepper flakes, and tangerine peel.

I'd go into more detail about the individual dishes but basically, when the waitress put the dish in front of us, she gave us the briefest of descriptions. Not that she was surly, but I think there was a language barrier. When we asked about a particular bean on the plate, she didn't know how to tell us what it was in English. No matter, it's rather exciting just to eat and enjoy without necessarily needing to know the full composition of the dish, down to the last herb and spice. Every dish was more delicious and unique than the last, and after we cleared each plate, we sat in excited anticipation of what would next come out of the kitchen.

Both times I dined at Jai Yun, there was a large party of about ten or twelve who had evidently eaten there quite a few times. They knew the hostess and they knew the gastronomic ritual. On my most recent trip, the large party was celebrating someone's birthday and a few dishes had been specially prepared for them. Because we were the only other diners, we got to benefit from those specially-prepared dishes in the form of the pounded abalone with beaten egg. It was exquisite.

When the last cup of tea is drunk, a charming little ritual takes place. The waitress/hostess is called over and asked if the chef would come out into the dining room. A round, smiling chef comes out of the kitchen. And even though the call out is expected, he comes shyly, wiping his hands, and everyone in the room applauds. Some even stand. The delighted chef bows around and waves to all of his diners. It's a heart-warming change from the chefs who parade around their dining rooms like stalking royalty, expecting, yet often sneering, at the admiring whispers their presence excites.

I must say that the $45 menu did fill us up quite considerably. I do wonder what $35 for two would be like, but I see no reason to order it when such delights await for just $10 more.

Jai Yun
923 Pacific Avenue at Powell
San Francisco, CA 94133

Reservations required.

Two years ago, Dr. Preston Maring had an idea: Instead of telling his patients to seek out fresh food, why not bring it to them? He worked with the Pacific Coast Farmers' Market Association and brought 10 farmers to a new farmers' market at the Oakland Kaiser Permanente Medical Center where he works. It's a perfect match: a location where many people are working or going for appointments combined with farmers who want to sell their product to as many people as possible.

"Patients bring strawberries or cherries to their doctors as presents now," says Maring. "People have told me they schedule their appointments on Fridays so they can go to the market." Kaiser now has farmers' markets at numerous sites nationwide, and the number is growing. Maring says that many of the customers at Kaiser's farmers' markets have never been farmers' market customers before.

In a panel hosted by the Commonwealth Club and CUESA last week entitiled "The Future of Farmers' Markets," panelists kept returning to the Kaiser Permanente model as a good example of great way to spread farmers' markets throughout the area. While it's easy to say that a market should open up in every neighborhood in town, farmers only want to go to markets where they will make money, and a built in community such as that at the Kaiser Medical Centers is a good place to start.

It is a commonly accepted thought that more farmers' markets in the Bay Area would be a benefit to the area. Markets often become a gathering place for the neighborhood or town, and the accessibility of fresh food from local farmers is a benefit to the community.

The panel discussion last week was opened with a statistic that all of the farmers' markets in San Francisco are on the east side of town; none in the Richmond, none in the Sunset, and none west of Noe Valley. Starting a new farmers' market is a daunting task as there is a large permitting process, and you may come up against opposition in your neighborhood. Just ask the Marina Merchants Association who were challenged for over a year before settling on a day and location this past Spring.

According to the Farmers' Market Resource Kit published by SAGE, you can estimate that each vendor at a farmers' market needs 55 customers (spending an average of $10 each at the market) in order for a market to be worth the farmer's while.

Think about that number, and then consider the large company campuses that we have in the Bay Area: Hewlett-Packard, Intel, Oracle, Sun Microsystems and Cisco are some of the largest. It would be a natural fit for some of these companies to host farmers' markets on their property. Combine those campuses with the campuses around them, and you get even more employees. If a company such as Yahoo! in Sunnyvale were to host a farmers' market, they could invite their neighbors -- Lockheed Martin, Martin Marietta, and Juniper Networks -- and maybe one of the companies could throw in a lunchtime shuttle to take employees to the market.

The best part of Dr. Maring's story is that he was just one person who wanted to start a farmers' market. It wasn't a committee decision, and there wasn't a large group of people behind the effort -- he saw a need, and he worked to fill it. Creative new ideas for farmers' markets by people like Dr. Maring are the future of farmers' markets.

Sources:

New Kaiser health care program: health food, San Francisco Chronicle, June 3 05.

SAGE: Sustainable Agriculture Education

Biggest Bay Area Employers, San Francisco Chronicle.

Happy Birthday and Happy Birthday, Life Begins at 30, May 13 05.

The end of September brings the first of the apples, quince and winter squash. For many folks, dishes like pork chops with cinnamon apples, butternut squash soup and roasted root vegetables keep the kitchen (and bellies!) warm as the weather cools.

For me, though, the quintessential "first meal" of fall is Ab Goosht, a Persian dish that translates literally to "Meat Water". It's typically considered peasant food, but I can hardly think of a better way to herald in the fall.

The region of Azerbaijan is typically considered to have the best Ab Goosht anywhere--I haven't a clue to their secret, though I will say that they are known to cook theirs over very low heat for 8-10 hours. I can't pull that off at home, so I've refined a recipe that I can put together on a Sunday afternoon.

It's actually 2 dishes in one -- a broth to be used for soaking bread (Teeleet) and a "mash" of meat, potatoes and beans (Goosht Koobideh). At the first indication of colder weather, I make a big batch of Ab Goosht to freeze for the coming winter months.

• 1 medium onion, diced
• 2 lbs lamb or beef shanks, trimmed of excess fat
• 2 garlic cloves, smashed
• 1 tbsp turmeric
• 1 can (14 oz) diced tomatoes
• 1 can garbanzo beans or 1 c. dried (soaked)
• 1 can Roman or cannelini beans or 1 c. dried (soaked)
• Juice from 1 lime
• 3-4 small red potatoes, peeled
• 2-3 dried limes (leemoo-amonee)

1. In a large dutch oven or stew pot over medium-high heat, fry the onions in a bit of vegetable oil until slightly golden.
2. Add the meat, and add just enough water to cover.
3. Add the turmeric, onions, garlic and tomatoes . Season to taste with salt & pepper. (If using dried beans, add them now).
4. Bring up to a boil, then reduce heat to medium-low, cover and let simmer for 1 hour.
5. Add the canned beans, potatoes, lime juice and dried limes. Cook, covered, an additional 30-60 minutes, or until the potatoes are cooked through and the meat is falling off the bone.
6. At this point, strain the liquid from the pot and set aside.
7. Once the meat has cooled, remove the bone(s), and using a potato masher or large wooden spoon, smash everything together. Season with salt & pepper, and a bit more lime juice, if desired.

Serve the broth and mash in separate bowls; use pita or lavash bread for soaking in the broth and for scooping bits of the mash.

Last weekend my friends Max and Davina (of Pig on a Spit fame) rented a house on the Russian River. There were about 15 of us, a handful of which I consider culinary magicians.

In the midst of the revelry, while sipping on our newly concocted "River Wine Spritzers" (oh, don't knock it til you try it...it's a refreshing mixture of Sauvignon Blanc, ginger beer, pomegranate syrup, and a squeeze of lime), my friend Laurie whipped out a couple cans of chickpeas (also known as garbanzo beans) and transformed them into something otherworldly.

Who would have thought of deep-frying chickpeas? Well, I suppose you can deep fry just about anything. But this is a transformation. The crisp exterior encases an ultracreamy interior and tastes something like popcorn meets bacon. Dusted with smoked paprika (which can be purchased at many well-stocked markets, but it's most fun to purchase it from one of my absolute favorite stores, The Spanish Table) and sea salt, these little treats barely made it from frying pan to the serving dish before being gobbled up by the crowd. A few guests were out playing in the river and sadly missed the entire spectacle, but I have to say that none of the partakers was very apologetic about not saving them any.

Fried Chickpeas
2 cans chickpeas (preferably organic)
Canola oil
Sea salt
Smoked paprika

Drain the chickpeas in a colander, rinse, then dry on paper towels. Blot the beans dry. You want to try to get these as dry as possible to reduce the amount of oil splutters when you add them to the hot oil.

In a cast iron skillet, heat about 1 inch of oil over medium-high heat until very hot (nearly smoking). You will want to do these in batches to avoid overcrowding and steaming. Add about 1 cup of the chickpeas. Be very careful when adding the beans as they will splutter (and Laurie got a few nice little burns doing this). Using a heat-resistent slotted spoon or a spider, move the chickpeas around in the oil until they are nicely browned and crisp, then transfer them to layered paper towels. Immediately dust them with pinches of smoked paprika and sea salt. Transfer to a bowl and try not to burn your tongue as you pop them into your mouth. Repeat with the remaining batches.

A rainbow of peppers at the Place Monge market, Paris

Allow me to dispel some of the intimidation or complication of French cooking. Coq au Vin (pronounced coke-o-van) is nothing more than a fancy-shmancy way of saying Chicken Stew or Chicken in Wine. But would you pay $35 for an entrée of Chicken Stew? I think not, so Coq au Vin it is!

Many people claim Coq au Vin as their own, however, legend has it that Julius Caesar's cook created the first Coq au Vin recipe after the Gauls gave Caesar a tough old rooster when he conquered them...or perhaps that was the first recorded act in history of someone "giving someone the bird"?! But I digress... yes, back to the Coq au Vin...

Braising is the preferred cooking method for older, tougher cuts of meat as the long, slow heat and liquid tenderizes and flavors the meat and makes it edible. Always have a chewy crusty bread on hand to mop up the juice after! Burgundy red wine appears to be the wine of choice for this dish, after a quick scan through various recipes, but any hearty red will do.

My mise en place (prepped ingredients), ready to start cooking.

The traditional recipe calls for browning lardons (thick bacon cut crosswise ¼" thick) first, then browning the chicken in the lardon fat. It also calls for mushrooms quartered and added about half way through and a flambé of cognac before you add the wine. But...as this is titled "Fast Coq au Vin, My Way" and not "Traditional Coq au Vin, Julius Caesar's Chef's Way", I am sticking to what I had on hand the other night when it was too late to run to the store. Sound familiar? So now you can enjoy the virtues of simply French country fare, Fast! Bon Appetit mes amis. Sante et Bonheur.

I've just added the wine and am ready to cover and cook (step 5).

Fast Coq au Vin, My Way

1 chicken
2 shallots – sliced
1 onions – peeled, quartered and sliced
4 cloves garlic – peeled
2 peppers – seeded and sliced
2–3 cups red wine

1. cut up chicken. i keep the leg & thigh together and leave the breast meat on the bone. it helps it retain it's shape during cooking. salt & pepper both sides.

2. add olive oil to the pan. brown the chicken on both sides and set aside.

3. in the same pan add the onions, garlic and shallots and sauté on medium for a few minutes.

4. add the sliced peppers and sauté on medium until they start to soften

5. add the chicken back to the pan and pour in the wine, enough to come to the middle of the peppers plus a bit more.

6. bring to a boil, cover and turn down to low or medium low, depending on your stove.

7. cook for approx 30-40 minutes or until done. check after 20 minutes to see if there is enough liquid. add more wine if necessary.

* if there is too much liquid and the chicken is done, then take out the chicken and the peppers with tongs or a slotted spoon, leaving as much wine in the pan as possible, crank up the heat and reduce the wine to the desired amount and consistency. you can sprinkle in a tablespoon of flour to thicken the liquid but combine and cook thoroughly so you don't have that flour-y taste.

One of the most frequent questions I get at Ye Olde Stanke Cheeseshoppe is -- no, not "Where is the bathroom?" No, not even, "Where is the Slanted Door?" See, the question I get most often is, "What's your favorite cheese?"

Oy.

The bathroom and Slanted Door directions I can give, but my favorite cheese? Where do I begin?

Well, today I was in the mood to be particularly taken by two cheeses from across the pond. The first was Coolea ("coo-lee," you could call the pigs with that one! The name, I mean, not the smell. No, seriously, it smells lovely. As lovely as cheese can smell, which, in this cheesemonger's opinion is quite beautifully stinky), a buttercup-yellow cow's milk cheese from Macroom, County Cork, Ireland; the second was Berskwell, a snowy-white raw sheep's milk cheese from Ramhall Farm in the West Midlands of England.

Berkswell is vegetarian, and by that I mean the coagulating rennet is not taken from the stomach of an animal, but rather from a vegetable source, like nettles. This sheep's milk cheese is aged about six to nine months and has a compact, creamy grain. When you put a paper-thin slice -- use a nice, sharp Oxo cheeseplane and you'll achieve lovely thin leaves of cheese -- on your tongue, it melts away, leaving behind a sublime taste of nutty richness. It's highly addictive and highly sought after. We don't often have it, but we happen to have a few rounds now. Come and get some before I eat it all.

Coolea is a totally different animal. No, seriously -- it's a cow, not a sheep. The best way to describe Coolea is that if caramel sauce ever took it into its head to be a cheese, this would be it. I think Coolea has a chewy toasted taste that lends itself well to being a before-dinner snack as well as a desserty treat. It's also quite acceptable as an afternoon indulgence. Coolea is fun to bite into -- your teeth gently pierce the slice and sink into bliss.

Most people want to know what wine is best with this cheese or that cheese, but with these two, I say "beer." It's a personal choice, really, because it was during my time in England that I learned that good beer wasn't beer that had the word "Ice" after the name. For these two cheeses, I don't even think you have to be so narrow in focus as to restrict yourself to only British Isles brews. I rather like Belgian-style beers, and tonight we paired Coolea and Berkswell with pints of New Belgium Brewing's Abbey and more pints of New Belgium Brewing's Trippel. New Belgium are the folks in Colorado who are responsible for the famous Fat Tire, Loft, and Sunshine, but I particularly love the Trippel, Abbey, and 1554 brews.

So tonight, this minute, Coolea is my favorite cheese. Five minutes from now, Berskwell will be my favorite. Then Fougerous, and Panache d'Aramitz, and Couserans, and Tumbleweed....do you see where I'm going with all this?

Title: CEO & Co-Founder Yelp

Home town: Arlington VA

1. What is Yelp?
We capture word of mouth and amplify it. We're actually the first site to build a community around reviewing. We bring together like minded people who are looking to share information.

2. How is Yelp different from other "review sites"?
We have no editorial, it's driven by community here. The reviews on Yelp aren't run of the mill, straight forward, people can even submit photos. Reviewers fill out a detailed profile, so you have the background on the person who is reviewing.

It's kind of like a directed blog, you can express yourself and talk about things you love but also it puts a structure around it so other people can find all this great information that you're creating.

3. How popular are restaurant reviews on Yelp?
The bulk of our traffic is people looking for restaurants, bars, local culture. About 1000 reviews are added a week in the Bay Area. Many restaurants have 20-30 reviews.

4. What great restaurants have you discovered on Yelp?
My favorite Canteen by far, that place is fantastic. Also Isa it's been around for a while, but I didn't know about it, I don't know the Marina that well and I don't think I ever would have found it. Town Hall.

5. How are Bay Area Yelpers different than Yelpers in other cities?
The other cities are just starting out. There isn't the love fest that there is here. People who write reviews in SF are passionate people they enjoy expressing themselves in creative ways. That comes through.

We actually hold local events for our hardcore users, we call them the Yelp Elite Squad. When someone gets really involved with the site we try to identify that, and bring them into the Yelp Elite Squad. Then once a month we do events where everyone can get together. It's a way of getting to know those folks and thank them too. There are about 200 of them so far.

As you may know, the California winegrape harvest is underway. Not quite in full swing, but underway. Due to cooler than usual weather in most growing regions, the season is coming a bit later as well as more spread out than usual. This means that the grapes are able to hang on the vine longer, improving flavors and concentration, without having the sugar increase to levels that result in ultra-high alcohol.

Great, right? I know I'm happy about it. The Pinot noir I have fermenting right now in the winery is rich, aromatic, has good acid and deep varietal character, and isn't going to end up with alcohol upwards of 15%. I wonder why, then, it's possible to find all sorts of predictions of doom and failure in the wine media. Sandwiched between quotes from grapegrowers and winemakers who state that quality could be wonderful this year are statements that this will be a 'late and difficult vintage' (decanter.com) for California, or even better, suggesting questions about the quality of the vintage in the title of an article that then includes quotations from wine professionals who tell us that they think quality will be excellent this year (winespectator.com).

Thanks heaps for the confusion, wine media. I have a suspicion that they, as a whole, are preparing to trash the '05 vintage as a whole, similarly to what the Wine Spectator did to the 2000 vintage. In 2000, we had cooler weather than normal, with rain at the end, and certainly some producers struggled to ripen their crops. Unfortunately for many winemakers who turned out elegant, structured wines, the universal thumbs down from the critics and their magazines has encouraged people to avoid California wines from that vintage altogether. It is sadly possible to now find good bottles of '00 Cabernet at discount prices as sellers struggle to move these wines.

So, that's why I'm up on a soapbox. The wine media has to have a story to sell, and nothing generates reader interest like a bit of drama--or controversy. The weather's too hot, the weather's too cold, it might rain, it might frost... all of these things concern us as an industry; grape growers are farmers and so we're all subject to the whim of mother nature and her effects on our growing conditions. But the media does the industry far greater damage when it takes liberties with predicting the overall quality and success of a vintage than extreme weather ever could. There are plenty of winemakers out there who, working hand in hand with the grape growers, can make wonderful wine in even 'difficult' vintages.

Ok, that's enough sermonizing! How about a glass of wine? I've just tried the Navarro Vineyards Gewurztraminer and White Riesling, and found both to be wonderful examples of what these two grape varieties can produce in the right climate in California. Richly aromatic with wonderful flavors of lychee and stone fruit, the Gewurz was wonderful paired with spicy Thai. The Riesling, on the other hand, I enjoyed by itself. It has a bracing core of acidity that might seem a bit much for those who prefer off-dry versions of this grape, but a little patience and some air in the glass produced the most wonderful results after a half hour or more. Very nice.

Enjoy!

This is the best meal I have ever had. In my whole life. Ever. Period.

Three friends were in town and treated me to a late birthday celebration at L'Ambroisie, a 3-Michelin star restaurant in the heart of the Marais. We were also celebrating their victory in a landmark case against the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, INTERVENOR (as the Court's Order read) so adrenaline was pumping, hands were high five-ing, and champagne was popping.

The unrivaled Chef Bernard Pacaud opened L'Ambroisie in 1981 and a year later received his first Michelin star. His second star arrived the following year and his third star in 1986. He has not wavered since. Here are a few snippets about his 17th century treasure in Place des Vosges, the oldest square in Paris.

"...if ever there was a master craftsman in the old-time sense of the word, he is it: tradition at its glorious and soaring heights, tradition which follows the "rules" that gave French cuisine its name. Each dish is flawlessly finished... Noblesse oblige!"

"One of Paris's most talented chefs, Bernard Pacaud draws attention with his vivid flavors and culinary skill. Expect culinary perfection... Pacaud's tables are nearly always filled with diners who come back again and again to see where his imagination will take him next."

This is where his imagination took him recently...

Les entrées (appetizers)

Soupe crémeuse d'écrivesses au céleri, chutney de poivron et ananas ~ Creamy crayfish soup with braised celery and pepper pineapple chutney

Corolle de noix de Saint-Jacques à la truffle blanche, mousseline de brocolis ~ Scallops with white truffles and a broccoli mousseline
* I thought of the poor intern toiling in the kitchen whose entire job was to find the perfect broccoli florets to slice into uniform sizes. that and scrub the ovens.

Oeufs de poule mollets à la Florentine, râpé de truffe blanche d'Alba ~ Soft boiled eggs with spinach puree and shaved white truffles from Alba
* This is the only dish I will write about or we'll be here for days. It is the best dish I have ever had. In my whole life. Ever. Period. The bowl was the size of my two hands cupped together. Two of the most perfectly soft boiled eggs perched gingerly atop a bed of finely pureed spinach. A feathery sabayon crested over topped with a mound of shaved white truffles. When I broke my spoon through the egg, the warm yellow combined with the emerald green puree and the sweet sabayon, igniting the intoxicating white truffles. Holy guacamole! The fat lady sang, New Years, 4th of July and Bastille Day, fireworks and all rolled into one! I could have bathed in it! We all took a moment of silence as I held up the dish in homage to these precious "oeufs" and the brilliant chef that created them. Absolutely the most spectacular things we have ever eaten and a dish that will not be forgotten. Price: 110 euros. Experience: priceless.

Les Plats (main course)

Escalopine des bar à l'émincé d'artichaut, beurre léger au caviar ~ Sea Bass on sliced artichoke hearts in a light caviar butter sauce

Gigotin d'agneau de lait braisé à la moelle, ragoût de cocos à la sauge ~ Milk-braised leg of lamb with bone marrow and a ragout of tiny potatoes and onion in a sage sauce

from the oven

to tableside service

to our plate!

Etuvée de homard en petite nage, mousseline de fenouil à la vanille ~ Steamed lobster in a light fennel-vanilla sauce

Assiette des Fromages (cheese course)

Les desserts

Tarte fine sablée au chocolat, glace à la vanille ~ Chocolate tart with vanilla ice cream

Velouté de fruits exotiques, babas bouchon au rhum ~ Exotic fruit soup and a baba rum cake (bouchon is the plug in a wine barrel)

Sablé aux noix, crème glacée moka, poëlée de coings ~ Sautéed quince with mocha ice cream topped with a nut tuile

Arlette caramélisée au fromage blanc, coulis de citron ~ Caramelised with fromage blanc in a lemon coulis (fromage blanc is similar to plain yogurt)

Mignardises ~ Little bite-sized desserts

Formidable!

___________________

L'Ambroisie
Chef Bernard Pacaud
9, place des Vosges
75004 Paris, France
+33 (0)1 42 78 51 45