simon says french food blog

MORE FOR THE CARNIVORES

PARIS

By Joe Ray

As our cote de boeuf is set down in the center of the table, Pierre makes a general announcement, putting his hands up to his mouth, megaphone-style.

“Vegetarians are now invited to clear the area!” he bellows.

My word, yes they are.

I made a sort of promise to check out the ‘bicycle built for two of the steak world’ at L’Escargot after checking out the offerings at Le Bastringue and was far from disappointed.

There’s a price difference - 32 euros at Bastringue and 40 at L’Escargot (remembering each diner is paying half of that) and you can taste the difference: L’Escargot has better and more flavorful meat (likely linked to chef Fred Valade’s triperie down the road), but each one is a great value for the price.  One nitpick: L’Escargot would also do well to get some real steak knives.

There were nice vegetable side courses with my meal tonight, complete with Valade’s signature flaming thyme garnish ... and, no fault of their own, after a few bites, I completely forgot about them. Desserts were fabulous. I’d get the homemade chantilly (served on top of the ‘choco ivoire & son biscuit caribbeanesque’ which I once launched onto my lap) over and over again as a solo dish.

L’Escargot MAP
50, rue de La Villette
75019 Paris
+33 1 42 06 03 96

Full disclosure: I am known (though not notorious) at L’Escargot as it’s about a block away from my flat. They didn’t know we were coming, but they knew I was there. That said, even in Paris, you can’t conjure different beef at 9 p.m. on a Wednesday night.

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

FALLEN FROM HEAVEN

PARIS

By Joe Ray

I rode right right past the opening night festivies at Tombé du Ciel. At first I chalked it up to the bliss of zooming around Paris on my brand-new-to-me vintage Peugeot 10-speed, but I backtracked to #7 on the tiny Rue d’Enghien. There it was, lost among the cheap grec sandwich restaurants and coiffeurs, the ‘PHONEBOUTIK’ sign of a previous owner still gracing the facade.

Just below, a large glass window glistened with the prerequisite warmth, barely obscuring a healthy crowd and a few dozen bottles of natural production wine. It looked as indigenous to this part of town as... as... um... hence the name.

I wish them well. If clients find the place, just two blocks north of the Boulevard de Bonne Nouvelle in the 10th, (I found out about it on a tip from our crack translator, Mariette) they’ll come back. This is La Cremerie’s fun and gritty cousin. The wines are great, with double digits of by-the-glass options ranging from about 2.50 to 5 euros. There are some whites and fizzy options that will leave you drooling with glee, served with perfect food for nibbling, particularly considering the kitchen is still under construction. (The kitchen will open ‘soon’ and there will be a plat du jour or two.)

The showstopper was a tarama of sea urchin, served with bread and a slice of lemon. You really need nothing else with a product this well-sourced.

The ambience may be the best part. People leave their belongings wherever and walk away, trusting they’ll be there a couple hours later when they leave, and at the end of the night, everyone crowds around the bar and I half expect them to break into a well-deserved song.

With wine, count on around ten euros if you’re feeling peckish. More if you’re hungry.

Tombé du Ciel MAP
7 Rue d’Enghien
75010
M: Strasbourg St. Denis

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

NEWS FLASH: BYE, BYE BULLI???

By Joe Ray



Ferran Adria's just announced that they're 'stopping' El Bulli - starting in 2012-2013, turning their Barcelona lab and Roses restaurant into 'research centers'.

Sounds like it'll be business as 'usual' in Roses through 2011 (two more seasons), though exactly what happens after that and what happens for the 2012-2013 season remain a bit vague. 2014 remains very mysterious. Return from a sort of sabbatical, perhaps in a different 'format'???

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

SUN ON A PLATE

PARIS

By Joe Ray

My tolerance for number of days cooped up in the kitchen in an effort to avoid bad weather ended today. I should have come out sooner.

Acting on a tip from a friend…who recently acted on a tip from Francois...I cross town on my bike, popping up to meet friends in the lower reaches of the 14th arrondissement at Le Jeu de Quilles.

I’m a bit early and watch a table of six guys who were clearly on an afternoon out at one of their favorite spots, downing good wine and asking the chef about where to get a whole lamb to roast.

Ann has barely sat down when she says,  “The sun’s out!” with a smile like she was recognizing a long-lost friend who’d grown a beard since the last time they met.

The prix fixe lunch plan is simple: choose from three appetizers, two mains and a handful of desserts for 25 euros. There’s an à la carte menu that makes me want to come back for dinner. In form and function, it quite resembles the original version of Spring and Le 122.

Along with a generous, high-end charcuterie plate, highlights included an oeuf cocotte, swimming in a wonderful shallot-y red wine sauce and resting on a hidden strip of pork fat.  There’s also a braised pork main with a hot, pudding-like side of polenta laced with Emmental and tasting of real corn bread.

“This tastes like America!” I blurt.

Dessert was a still-bubbling pear and apple crumble, arriving with a ‘watch your fingers’ warning from the waitress. Imagine hot, crushed Pecan Sandies above hot, buttery fruit and all the dairy farmers you’re supporting with this one dish!

Sun on a plate.

Lunch prix fixe menu: 25 euros (21 if you skip dessert, but why would you want to do that?). There is no prix fixe at dinner where appetizers run between 12 and 20 euros and mains are in the mid-20s.

Le Jeu de Quilles MAP
45 rue Boulard
75014 Paris
+33 1 53 90 76 22

Interested in a little, um, 'he said, she said' on Jeu de Quilles? Test your French and read Francois' recent review here.

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

A GOOD (BUT PRICEY) SLICE IN PARIS

By Joe Ray

PARIS

A pair of friends have been telling me about their favorite new pizza place since it opened. Good pizza in Paris is a rare bird, so naturally, my ears perked up.

Al Taglio is an interesting concept, borrowing heavily from Italy. Walk in, go to the counter, point to one of the big, beautiful rectangles of thick-crust pizza beneath your nose and they are ready to take a pair of kitchen shears and cut a slice approximately one and a half times as large as the size you indicated, as you will be paying by the kilo.

No matter. Take a seat on a stool under Smurf-blue lamps and discover that the pizza is fantastic. We shared slices with the anchovy and garlic glory of the Napoli, a decent quattro stagioni, and a beautiful yet mysteriously-named “speck” with uncured (but tasty) ham, mushrooms and ricotta.

I was all smiles until a friend burst my bubble. “The only problem with this place,” she said, “is the price.”

I looked up at the menu board, tried to do some calculations and, well, couldn’t. How much does a slice of pizza weigh? I have no idea. I do know that some pizzas cost almost 40 euros a kilo and it made me think of the field day I could have at the cheese shop.

A form of answer came when the cashier cut a huge square for a take-out order – just a little more than I could eat in one hungry sitting – which came out to 30 euros.

Solution? Do as we did and go for an appetizer-sized portion – that and a glass of wine will run you a very reasonable eight euros.

Count on anywhere between 8 – 40 euros.

Al Taglio MAP
‪2 Bis Rue Neuve Popincourt‬
‪75011 Paris‬
+33‪ 1 43 38 12 00‬‎

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

H. AND THE STEAK

By Joe Ray

PARIS

 

H. and I had a peculiar beginning - the ambiguous and non-ambiguous fits and starts of a relationship that quickly turns platonic.

Those questions now years out of the way, we can concentrate on dishing without feeling like it’s been six months or a year since the last time we saw each other. (What better compliment can you pay to a friend?)

We can also concentrate on what’s on our plates. Last time we met, that meant côte de boeuf - the bicycle built for two of the steak world.

“That and a bottle of wine are all you need to bother with here,” said H., laying down the law of how to order at La Bastringue. She’s done the menu sampling for us at this rowdy/friendly 19th arrondissement bistro overlooking the Bassin de la Villette and there’s no reason to question her.

Moments before the steak arrives, a ridiculous-sized plate of salad, mixed veg and cube-shaped fries is set down. You’ll nibble on those, but that’s not why you’re here.

The steak is charred, bloody (lest you want the cook to cry), and very tasty. It might be a bit chewy in spots, but with a steak this big, there’s plenty of room to roam. There is no non-carnivorous reason to leave hungry.

Need more convincing? You can get out of there for about 20€.


Le Bastringue - MAP
67 Quai de Seine
75019 Paris
+33 1 40 05 70 00

p.s. - I stopped by l’Escargot the other night for a drink and noticed that they have a côte de boeuf on the menu. It’s more expensive than down the hill at Bastringue, but that’s the next one I’ll be trying...

...

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

JEWEL OF A PUB IN THE COUNTRYSIDE

MONTBRISON, France

Outside of a few ‘special’ beers and a penchant for whiskey, it’s hard to tell what makes ‘Irish Pub’ Irish - the twisted stag’s head on the wall? Maybe it’s just that ‘vaguely Irish décor and drink selection with French bistro fare’ doesn’t have much of a ring to it as a restaurant name.

No matter. I went with locals (I was in town to do a one-off story on jeweler Philippe Tournaire) to this Rhone establishment for a reason – it’s good and unadorned. We get flank steak, liver and stew and that’s exactly what’s on our plates.

The waitress did set down a baking dish full of big potato halves, baked then grilled and accompanied by a (vaguely Irish?) sour cream and chive-style sauce.

The liver had a zingy vinegar-based sauce, simple and perfect for understanding why it’s in there in the first place.

Perhaps the luck of the Irish brought me here, but it doesn’t matter. The food’s good and if you're nearby, it's worth the trip.

Count on 15-30 euros, depending on how many pints you toss back.

Irish Bar – MAP
11 Rue Victor de Laprade

Montbrison

+33 4 77 58 13 79

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

FLYING CANNELLONI

Carles Gaig is a chef and a businessman. The combination can make you cringe – it's hard to pull off and, truthfully, fewer chefs should try. Gaig, a Catalan cuisine legend, can be found anywhere from his high-end eponymous Barcelona restaurant to the sides of Barcelona's bus systems where he's currently hawking a set of cheap-looking knives.

Another Gaig newborn is promising. PortaGaig is in the Barcelona airport's new Terminal 1, hidden off to the right before you head through security. It being the 26th – St. Stephen's day – where you traditionally eat cannelloni stuffed with Christmas leftovers. Gaig being known for the little tubes of joy, we stopped in.

There are some great ideas at work here – get to the airport early enough and you can have a full-out meal with great wine in a beautiful space with a swarm of smart-dressed waiters at your disposal. Sometimes you want to swat them away, there's so many, other times, they're standing around, looking good and waiting for the restaurant's reputation to grow.

There's also a special bar menu with reasonable prices featuring items that are quicker to prepare. That said, it's hard to get out of there for less than 15 euros – made more annoying by the 2.50€ 'cover charge' for disappointing bread.

Best cannelloni I've ever had? Who knows, but, paired with a glass of Cava, they beat the pants off the plastic-boxed sandwiches on the other side of security. It costs a bit more, but it's a better value. Best airport food? (A question I'm posing from a chair on another flight at 38,000 feet.) Without a doubt.


Plan on anywhere from 15€ for drinks, snacks and (ugh) bread at the bar to a couple times that for a sit-down meal.


PortaGaig MAP
Barcelona. Terminal 1 - P3.
Departures Public Zone
+34 932 596 210

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

BEER HUNTER, WHISKY CHASER

My apologies for nicking the title of a book dedicated to the late beer and whisky expert, Michael Jackson, but I think he'd approve.

I've got a pair of stories out published in the last few weeks in The Boston Globe's Travel section worth the hunt and the chase. First on tap is a look at Lambic beers in Belgium. It gives a sense of how this "wild beer" is made, the people making some of the best along with where to go, eat, drink and stay.

Here's a taste:
Belgium is boring.

That was the preconception. Then I remembered: great fries, friendly people, beautiful architecture,
and beer that makes aficionados drool.

What was I thinking?

I grab a cone of fries and head to a brewery where I begin to understand why beer, particularly
lambics — ‘‘wild beers’’ that are products of ‘‘spontaneous fermentation’’ and aged for three
years in oak barrels — runs in Belgians’ veins...

Click here to read the story on the Boston Globe's site or here to read it on joe-ray.com, where you can also find a PDF copy of the story in its print format.


Next, I headed to Scotland for a whisky road trip...

The roads between the Speyside region and Kennacraig are a driving enthusiast’s dream, flecked with micro-towns, straightaways, S-curves, views of the Loch Ness, and signs that read ‘‘Stone Skipping Championships This Saturday!’’ and ‘‘Apples £1/BOX.’’

The cafe on the ferry from Kennacraig to the island of Islay (pronounced EYE-la) is a sign of good things to come, with representatives of almost every distillery on the island behind the bar — a short and sweet selection that would blow most American bar choices away…

Care for a wee bit more? Click here to read the story on the Boston Globe's site or here to read it on joe-ray.com.

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

CATALAN CHRISTMAS WISHES, BY WAY OF SICILY

By Joe Ray

BARCELONA

As a holiday card, I had this odd idea of setting the camera on the tripod and hefting the lit Christmas tree so all you'd see would be my arms and jeans, with Guido's painting in the background. Luckily, I remembered the Catalan Christmas connection with La Boqueria Market, which regularly graces the front page of many newspapers here on the 25th.

It also makes a much nicer photo.

Time for a Turkey.

(No, not me, the one in the oven.)

Ho, Ho!

Joe

P.S. - For a Christmas-esque message of peace from Guido, click here.

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

WHO NEEDS TEETH IN A HALF-CELLAR OF GOODNESS?

By Joe Ray

BARCELONA

I reconnect with the city a few steps below street level.

We share a little plate of artichokes hearts that are drizzled with olive oil and spritzed with fleur de sel. They’re so tender, you don’t need teeth.

There’s also a little wheel of oil-bathed goat cheese that’s somehow has the wonderful tang of cheddar. We get a bacalao-tomato dish with olives and a separate plate of olives that I’m supposed to share. Oops.

We wipe up our fingers with the ubiquitous useless napkins and wash it down with vermouth and seltzer water.
It’s good to be home.

Count on about 10-20€

La Bodegueta – MAP

Rambla de Catalunya 100

Barcelona

+34 932 154 894

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

The Wepler: I may well go back anyway!

 By François Simon

PARIS

A leisurely visit to the north of Paris, and suddenly, an urge for a seafood platter overwhelms me. I like the Wepler for the atmosphere, but when it comes to seafood, just between you and me, I prefer Garnier, particularly for its oyster bar. When the weather's cold, with a glass of ice-cold Muscadet, it's simply delightful...

At the Wepler, tonight, the seafood platter seemed to take forever to reach our table. A good half hour! As we waited, we emptied the breadbasket, played with the bread and fiddled with the wine bottle. It was a relief when a platter appeared at the end of the aisle. Alas, it was for the table next to ours. When our platter finally did arrive, we were ready to suck on the ice! Having regained our composure, we found the platter was negligent in the discharge of its duties, not brilliantly fresh, a bit apathetic. The langoustines were a bit dry, though they seemed to be dance with their claws spiked to their tushies. The oysters, at least, were spirited and proud to carry the day, while the spiral-shelled whelks were a bit old looking and the shrimp simply unfit for play.

Luckily, the crab was there to liven us up, get us gnawing and fuel our impatience. As for desert, things were much the same: the meringue glacée was icy-cold, but the meringue was practically reduced to powder. As for service, I'd call it a foul. Everything came late. But what really took the cake was the last glass of wine I ordered towards the end of the seafood platter, which arrived… after the bill - where it appeared, of course.

With three kids and a single dessert, it's expensive, quite expensive: 184,30 euros! Want to know the worst part? I may well go back anyway! Sigh…

Wepler, 14, place de Clichy, 75018 Paris (+33) 1.45.22.53.24. Map 

Opportun: reality check

By François Simon

PARIS

When the biting cold starts nipping at Parisian ankles, nothing beats a meal that's fit enough for a barbarian and hearty enough for a Hun to invigorate you. I crave comforting addresses, places where the table is dense, shameless and saucy. Our capital is riddled with these grottos, solidly secured to the rock. But watch out – they mean business. To catch the boss's eye, you have to weigh 200 lbs. and really be able to put it away. That suits me fine...

 The waiter insisted we taste the ravioli salad. My theory is that this was a guileless suggestion, due only to some opportunity at the morning market. We went ahead with the splendidly failed and shriveled ravioli dragging their greasy resentment through an acceptable salad enlivened with pine nuts that almost saved the dish.

The steak tartare is thriving and abundant, appropriately seasoned, catches your attention and proves very tasty. It sticks to its intentions, pirouettes… Extremely pleasant with choice beef from a first class butcher, Hugo Desnoyer. The French fries were hopeless. A disaster. They'd been handled most carelessly and that's no way to treat the fundamentals… A crying shame. It's kind of sad to see a place that collects quality labels and press clippings treat such an easy dish offhandedly, wouldn't you say? Not to mention that it's quite unexpected. The apple tart also has a hard time mustering a semblance of taste. It, too, seemed struck by a sort of loss of consciousness. For 111,50 euros, that's barely passable.

L’Opportun, 62, boulevard Edgar-Quinet, 75014 Paris

+(33)1.43.20.26.89 Map

SOUP, SOAP AND THE PIG’S FOOT

By Joe Ray
PARIS

The “Run Away!” category was designed for meals like this.

A rainy, hungry cold and dark afternoon in Paris called for something warm and reassuring. We almost went for pho in Belleville but my visiting friend suggested soupe à l’oignon (French onion soup) it seemed perfect.

Le Pied de Cochon is a Paris classic dating back to when Les Halles was the mammoth food market I’d give my pinky to have seen, not the current resident: a subterranean shopping mall that both houses and smells like a swimming pool. Restaurant names from the market period were designed with its oft-illiterate workers in mind. If you were looking for the boss who was cutting a deal for broccoli or tossing a couple back, he would be at the Chicken in The Pot, the Bell, The Drum or…the Pig’s Foot.

I was reassured that though the tourists were making up a majority of the customers - particularly as it was only four in the afternoon - there was was also an older, distinguished looking gentleman eating by himself and reading Le Monde dated the following day.

Waiters and waitresses buzzed around, giving the restaurant a wonderful, busy feeling and when the soup arrived, and we breathed in its wonderful smell - a bit reminiscent of Mom’s chicken pot pie - we felt like happy and lucky little kids.

We should have stopped there. The soup tasted like soap.

At least the broth did. I nibbled my way dutifully through the cheese on top, hit the broth, winced, tried again, tried my friend’s broth and then just stopped eating.

I never stop eating.

What’s worse is that this is the traditional food for served in Les Halles, arguably the birthplace of soupe à l’oignon. I tried distracting myself by thinking of the word Francois might use when confronted with something like this, but in the end it was all mine: atrocious.

We split duck confît that arrived cold and limp and when we sent it back for a warm-up, it came back lukewarm and limp.

That was enough. We left.

Count on around 15-30 euros better spent elsewhere.

Au Pied De Cochon - MAP
6 rue Coquillière

75001 Paris

+33 1 40 13 77 00


www.pieddecochon.com

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

Thoumieux: all for the best

By François Simon

PARIS

Jean-François Piège left the Crillon to settle in at Thoumieux armed with an iron will and, more importantly, a palpable desire to do battle with gastronomy. Of course, some of you will once again deplore the Costes style, but what can you do? I find it delightful: pretty girls, and waiters who ply their trade with pride…

The dishes and prices fend for themselves: 10 euros for a warm endive salad with cheese and lightly smoked ham. Right up my alley! Barely "snacked" brill filets and a jardinière from "Joël's" (21 euros). Perfect. Churros and baba au rhum from Millet's, along with cheeses from Bordier's at 8 euros. Banana and lime vacherin that leaves you swinging from the chandeliers…which are attached to a lovely, freshly remodeled 1940's ceiling.

A wine menu worthy of the name, crunchy-crusted quality bread, real napkins… It shouldn't be long before the profession shows up to steal ideas and I'll be only too pleased! Maybe Parisian brasseries will finally be revived, start bubbling over with mirth and attracting the throngs and pretty girls again. Thoumieux's soul had slipped away, but it's back! Surely, this is among the best news of the season.

Hôtel Thoumieux, Jean-François Piège/Thierry Costes.
79, rue Saint-Dominique, 75007 Paris. Phone : +33 1 47 05 49 75.
Open everyday from 12 pm to 2:30 pm and from 7 pm to 10:30 pm, soon to be noon to midnight non-stop. Map

THE CONSECRATED ONION – THE GREAT RIOJA TAPAS CRAWL PART III

By Joe Ray
LOGRONO, Spain

 

"At El Soldado de Tudelilla, get the tomato salad and the little sardine sandwich with sport peppers,*" says Artadi.

We do.

The notes for the little sandwich (a pincho) say "Why don't we eat more sardines in the U.S.A.?"

The question floats into space as I take a bite and flag the stout-bellied barman for a tomato salad which turns out to be the star of the show.

Said barman makes the salad on the bar beneath our noses by plucking a tomato from of the cooler with the wine and the onions and cuts it into bite-sized chunks with a pocket knife. He does the same with the onion.

"This is not just any onion," he says, "This is the white onion of Fuentes de Ebro," which, we'll learn, is more mild than a Vidalia.

"It is a town consecrated to the onion," he says.

He adds a can of still faintly-pink tuna to the plate and drops a few olives over the top before giving the whole thing a shot of vinegar, a 15-count drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkle of gros sel.

It's a little mountain on a plate that disappears in a heartbeat.

"We're going to be late," I say.

"I don't care," comes the response.

Perfect.

Count on about 10 euros for salad, sardines and a glass of wine or two

El Soldado de Tudelilla MAP
C/ San Agustín 33
Logroño, Spain
+34 941 209 624

*Truth be told, he said "guindilla."

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

CEBAS, C'EST BON – THE GREAT RIOJA TAPAS CRAWL PART II

By Joe Ray

LOGRONO, Spain

 
 

"At bar Cebas, get everything," says Artadi.

Pressed, he mentions a tortilla and the anchovies and the chroizo I immediately burn my mouth on when we get there.

"It's hot!" I warn my friend before burning myself again.

The tortilla is fantastic, I even had a lamb's ear sandwich (!), but the sublime star is a toothpick with a pair of olives and a pair of anchovies sandwiching a guindilla – a pickled green pepper folks in the Midwest would call a sport pepper.

There's vinegar, spicy heat, salt and texture, all at once – it's mind-blowing goodness, especially when coupled with any of the wines on their wonderful list (just scan the wall – it's somewhere near Artadi's picture with the owners).

Count on a few well-spent euros for snacks.

Bar Sebas - MAP
Caille del Albornoz, 3
Logroño, Spain
+34 94 122 0196

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

MUSHROOM POPS - THE GREAT RIOJA TAPAS CRAWL PART I

By Joe Ray

LOGRONO, SPAIN

In the Rioja, we ask winemaker Juan Carlos Artadi where to go on and around Logroño's Caille del Laurel – a foodie heaven of a street with nothing but tapas bars. Technically, we're in the region for a wine conference, but this is the place that gets my blood racing.

"First, go to Bar Soriano and get mushrooms à la plancha," he says.

It's a shoebox of a place with a mushroom-shaped sign hanging out front, thousands of those useless Spanish napkins littering the floor, three men behind the bar and a heavenly smell.

"Some mushrooms?" I say tentatively, looking for a menu.

"Vamos!" he calls to the man at the griddle, confirming there is no menu. Soriano is a one trick pony I could ride all day.

Moments later, two tiny towers of hollowed-out button mushrooms arrive, undersides facing heaven, cupping their own juices and one tiny shrimp.

"How do you eat them?"

The bartender smiles the gentle smile he must give to all the rookies and motions that we should push the toothpick that holds them together down through the bottom, turning the whole thing into something of a mushroom Push-Up Pop, allowing you to eat them one by one and finish with the juice-soaked bread. Rrrrowww!!!

We're off to a good start...

Bar Soriano MAP

Travesia Laurel 2

Logroño

+34 941 22 88 07 

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

COPPER TOP CHARGE

By Joe Ray

BARCELONA

 

I always get stubborn when people suggest that I write about something, even on the rare occasion that it's a good idea. If I'm already working on it, don't push me in the way I'm already heading. Or, at least, that's how I justify it.

I recently shimmied my way into a Barcelona Slow Food dinner at Coure – Catalan for 'copper' another Barcelona bistronomic, located almost directly across the street from Hisop. The next day, the mails started coming in from my Slow Food friend – "you've gotta blog about this place."

I knew. I knew.

While I could see where Hisop was heading – but had trouble getting there – at Coure, even though I was at a table with 25 people, it's clear the chef's feet are more firmly on the right path. Coure is a restaurant confidently hitting the ball on the rise.

Case in point: a perfectly-cooked mackerel 'confit' served with spinach pesto dish that made my feet do their involuntary 'happy dance,' particularly as the dish centered around local and sustainable products. The chef fought an uphill battle against starch with puréed ratte potatoes that had a pudding-like sheen, but they supported a buttery-textured oxtail stuffed with local Perol sausage. We drooled with happiness.

When my Catalan sweetheart visits me in Paris, she always marvels at how poor the service is relative to the price paid and I do my best to defend France, but here there's no refuting – I know, I know – you'd have to pay two to three times this much in the City of Light for service this good. Our waiter shyly rushes through the presentation of a dish he's been asked to do, but the moment he's finished speaking, he takes advantage of being in front to everyone to scan every seat at the table and instantly knows better where we are than we do.

Bonus? The price – a 35 euro prix fixe dinner menu that includes water, wine (including the fantastic Vinya d'Irto Terra Alta '05) and coffee. There's also a 45 euro degustation menu and à la carte runs about 50-60 euros plus wine. 

Restaurant Coure MAP

Passatge Marimon, 20

Barcelona

+34 93 200 75 32

Food and travel writer and photographer Joe Ray is the author of the blog Eating The Motherland and contributes to The Boston Globe's travel blog, Globe-trotting.

Supernature: a disdained delight!

By François Simon

PARIS

Here we sit not far from the Grands Boulevards of Paris, at an address worshipped by its regulars: Supernature. Know that giving you this address is like giving you a little piece of my hearts

It's a neighborly hole in the wall crammed with Formica tables. There are a few nature pics on the walls, including one of a woman with an admirable physique, which explains why so many patrons make a point of eating opposite from her.

Each dish is generously served and colorful. I ordered the plat du jour, a sort of veggie sampler with petulantly delicious vegetables, a small pancake served warm, enhanced with lentil sprouts and various mysterious jack-in-the-boxy spirals. Washed down with a carrot-ginger juice (then another), let me tell you that within 15 minutes, I felt like I was at Cape Canaveral, the rocket was warming up on its launching pad, and the fuses were blowing one after the other: look out here I come! Personally, that's all it takes to make me happy but you can also dive into the daily menu: tofu and vegetables, chocolate fondant cake, carrot cake… Gusto galore!

As for the prices? Frankly, 11 € for a dish that puts you back on the right track, 4,40 € for a magic potion and 2,10 € the espresso is reasonable, wouldn't you say?

Supernature, 12, rue de Trévise

Phone: +33 1 47 70 21 03. Menu 25€.  Map

Other restaurants in the 9th