I can honestly say, I don’t know. I’m fighting desperately to figure it out. A significant promotion at my day job is to blame. Stay tuned.
La Petite Grocery has always been for me like one of those classic films that I never got around to seeing. It seemed as though people were constantly talking about it, and every time it came into conversation, I felt slightly ignorant for not having checked it out yet. I even developed a routine of looking at it wistfully as I drove past it everyday – my neck would crane and my eyes would linger even as my head told me to focus on the road. Case in point: it’s a place I’ve been dying to visit. So it should come as no surprise that last week, I made dinner reservations and spent all of Friday gazing at the menu. We arrived that night and were promptly seated in the dimly-lit main dining room.
You might be surprised at this point to hear that agony immediately ensued. Ironically, the reason for my stress was exactly what had previously caused me such exuberance: the menu. As I pored over my options, I was thrown into a panicked frenzy of indecision that was only exacerbated when the chef came out to bring us a special amuse-bouche and say hello. I had already decided on what I was going to order, but a taste of an entrée special – drum with horseradish-crabmeat crust and beet purée – convinced me otherwise. I had to have it. (More on that in a bit.)
For my first course, I finally decided on steak tartare with red wine mustard and a quail egg, which came with a halo of accompanying toasts. The egg was a yummy but ancillary touch that didn’t contribute much to my overall impression of the dish. The steak was made perfectly, a lovely pomegranate-colored heap of heaven, the inherent sweetness of the high-quality beef tempered by a smattering of fresh, crisp parsley. The red wine mustard was the most brilliant element of all, as the vinegar of the mustard made a perfect union with the deep-dark-deliciousness of the wine. The result was a dynamic microcosm of universal harmony.
Lexie got the baked blue crab with Brie. On a spectrum, it was about as far as it could be from my pretty, light (relatively), slightly clever steak. Baked like a casserole and topped with chives and bread crumbs that cooked to a golden-brown in the oven, it certainly wasn’t beautiful. Taste-wise, though, it was superb. Crab and Brie are never a more classic combination than in this dish; the abundant morsels of tender crab melded with the molten cheese to form a creamy, luscious mass that was rich but not hedonistically so. Clever? No, but extremely soothing and delicious in a pure enough form that did not require ingenuity.
I effused a solitary squeal of excitement as my entrée was delivered. Like a WWII-era wife, I was overjoyed to be wholly reunited with the wonder that had so fleetingly delighted me, then vanished no sooner than I had fallen in love.
I told you. I told you. I told you. All of the food that I give away on Blake Makes has to pass my taste test, so all of the SOOPZ food is good. Amano Chocolate, however, was and is exceptional. If you tasted it, you know what I’m talking about. Now, it seems the top chocolate authority in the world agrees with us.
The London Academy of Chocolate’s annual awards are world’s most highly respected chocolate awards. Think of them as the Olympics of the chocolate world. The world’s most talented chocolatiers and chocolate makers submit their very best products to the Academy of Chocolate each year for judging.
Chocolate means something different to people in Europe than it does to us Americans. Even their M&M’s taste different. The London Academy of Chocolate is relatively unknown in the United States, but is very well known and respected throughout Europe both among professionals and food connoisseurs. Their annual awards are looked forward to each year with great anticipation by chocolate connoisseurs worldwide with awards announced by the London Times.
The judging in January 2009 took over 3 days with 30 judges including leading food journalists and Michelin starred chefs tasting and scoring the entries. Chocolatiers also join the judging panel but are not permitted to judge any of the categories that they enter. Past awards have been dominated by Amedei (Italy), Valrhona (France), Michel Cluizel (France) and Domori (Italy).
This is the first time that an American company has been honored in such a resounding way by the Academy. In fact, this is the first time the Academy has awarded Gold and Silver awards to an American chocolate company for dark chocolate.
Last year, Amano was the first American chocolate company to receive an award for making dark chocolate from the Academy when they received a Bronze for their Madagascar last year. Clearly, Amano has been improving their quality with each batch that they make.
Each chocolate in Amano’s entire current production line was given an award. This is an almost unheard of accomplishment. It is a testimony to Amano’s great care in selecting the very best cocoa beans and complete passion for making the very best chocolate possible.
Amano’s awards stand as a testament that America can make chocolate comparable to the very best European chocolate factories and that America is experiencing a chocolate revolution spearheaded by Amano.
Here are the results of the judging from London’s Academy of Chocolate:
- GOLD: Amano Artisan Chocolate, Madagascar
- SILVER: Amano Artisan Chocolate, Ocumare
- SILVER: Amano Artisan Chocolate, Montanya
- BRONZE: Amano Artisan Chocolate, Jembrana
- BRONZE: Amano Artisan Chocolate, Ocumare Milk
VIDEO: FEATURED ON THE FOOD CHAIN
To be honest with you, I’m kind of surprised these collard greens turned out as well as they did. I don’t think I’ve ever attempted to cook them before, so the only place I get them these days is at a restaurant. I had some excellent greens at Boucherie a couple of weeks ago. They were sweet, smokey and had a subtle al dente bite to them. By that I mean they weren’t bitter and cooked to mush.
I’ve signed up to receive a box of fresh, organic, locally grown produce from the Hollygrove Market here in New Orleans, and in this week’s box was a big bundle of collards.
The most important thing to keep in mind with greens, apart from over cooking them, is to wash them. My dad actually washes his in the washing machine – that’s no lie. I can remember as a kid diving into the barrel of the washer to salvage tiny shreds of greens that lingered at the very bottom (lest our whites go a little limey).
I washed mine twice before I trimmed them, then again just before I tossed them in the pot. Even a single grain of sand can ruin a lovely pot of greens.
Ingredients:
- 1 bunch of collard greens, washed with ribs removed (just cut them out)
- 3 thick (1/4 to 1/2 inch) slices of pancetta (bacon will do)
- 1 yellow onion, chopped
- 2 cloves of garlic, minced
- 1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes
- 1 bottle of beer (you can sub water or stock)
- 1 tbsp. sugar (optional)
2 tsp. apple cider vinegar
Instructions:
Chop the end off the collard greens to release all the leaves, and submerge them all in a sink full of cold water. Drain, rinse and repeat. Next, lay the green leaf rib side up, and slice along each side of the rib removing it. Wash your ribless leaves again, and stack them in a pile on your cutting board. Roll the leaves like a big cigar, and slice through them in 2 inch side segments making long, leaf ribbons. Finally, toss them in a salad spinner to remove excess water, and set aside.
Cube the pancetta and add to a heavy-bottom pot. Crisp the pork pieces until deep brown, and drain on a paper towel. In the fat left behind, saute the onions until translucent (about 7 minutes). Then, add the minced garlic and red pepper flakes and cook for about a minute.
Add in the collard greens and wilt for a few minutes. Just let them cook down by half. Pour in the bottle of beer, and add the sugar if you want. Cover and cook over medium low for 20 minutes.
Near the end of the cooking time, taste the greens. If they’re bitter, cook them a little longer. They should be smooth and sweet. Add in the apple cider vinegar and crispy pancetta pieces and cook for a few more minutes.
These greens did just fine warming on the stove for a couple of hours while I prepared the rest of my meal.
Greens will always feel like home to me. We served these with smothered pork chops and crusty-creamy mac and cheese. Perfect Saturday night soul food.
