Some of you may know it, but we used to live in London.  Although we love living in Brooklyn, the one thing that makes coming back really difficult is the distances. By moving closer to our friends and families, we moved away from the low-cost flights to continental Europe, away form the train that could take us to the center of Brussels or Paris in 90 minutes. Yes, the Acela is great but let’s face it: given the choice, we’ll take Paris over Philadelphia anytime (now we do love Philly but… you know!).

In our 26 months in London, there is one trip that we never ended up taking: Greece. We’ve been talking about visiting the Greek islands way before Mamma Mia came out in the theaters and yet never made it out there (never saw the movie either, for the record). But that’s where Brooklyn’s awesomeness comes in. Yes, the Greek islands are pretty far from Greenpoint but we just found the next best thing to that and it’s a bottle of greek wine on a roof.

We were introduced to Kallisto by Lili at Dandelion Wines and jumped on it as we thought that $19 was not a very high price to pay to bring an exotic wine to our table. We were not disappointed and if it was any cheaper, we’d probably buy a case as it is the kind of bottle we’d like to have on hand all summer.

Very light in color, it’s a wine that does not hold any surprise, in a good way. It’s a straightforward light and refreshing summer wine, bright, dry and crisp. It’s a great wine to have on hand during the summer months and it’s also a great taking piece that would taste perfect with grilled vegetables – it does play very nicely with cayenne pepper.

The ideal pairing? Fried clams on a New England beach (invite us, we’ll bring the wine!).

Kallisto 2008, Korakochori Ilias, Greece | $19 at Dandelion Wine, 153 Franklin Street, Brooklyn.

Photo by Marcel Germain on Flickr.

Have you ever visited a place, and immediately recognized that it was special?  Your heart may have quickened a bit; you had the urge to explore every nook and cranny; you may have simply wanted to move right in and make yourself at home.  Could this be described as having a crush on a building?  It might be an accurate description, because I think I may have fallen hard for the Montague Book Mill the first time I laid eyes on it.  Tucked away along the rushing Sawmill River in the teeny town of Montague, Massachusetts, the Book Mill’s motto rings very true: “books you don’t need in a place you can’t find.”

Built in 1834, the building was first used as a grist mill, capturing the water power of the river to grind whole grain into flour, which was then purchased by local residents. In the 1930s, the building was purchased by a machine manufacturing company, until they left the site in the 1960s, leaving the mill empty.  It wasn’t until the late 1980s that an enterprising soul attempted to rehabilitate the building and introduce a completely new used bookstore.  Over the years, other uses were added, including an antique dealer, an artist’s workshop, a music and video store, and two restaurants.

This leads me to the Lady Killigrew Café.  A simple endeavor, the Lady Killigrew serves up super fresh baked goods, sandwiches, soups, and salads, all while making a concerted effort at locally sourcing their food and beverages.  We are talking cheeses from nearby Vermont, coffee beans roasted in Hadley, pickles made in the next town over, and eggs, milk and produce from the surrounding countryside.

Most times that I have visited the café, it has been on the earlier side, so I have typically gone with a very tasty grilled cheese, tomato and egg sandwich.  On my most recent visit, however, it was closer to lunchtime so I was able to get a bit more wild with a curried chicken salad sandwich and fresh salad greens.  Oh my goodness. We broke our self-inflicted rule and all three of us ordered the same thing.  Good thing, or else we may have had a serious sharing problem.

The great news is, that even after four or five visits to the Book Mill complex under my belt, I still have so much more to explore. There is the Night Kitchen, the slightly more elegant restaurant that features gourmet food and a large deck perched right over the river.  There is the opportunity to imbibe a few of the local beers (High and Mighty!) at Lady Killigrew while overlooking that same picturesque river one late afternoon.  I won’t even get into their amazingly deep selection of books and small, comfortable reading spots scattered throughout the building where I can picture myself getting completely and happily lost in a novel, a baked treat, and a large cup of coffee.

A huge selection of interesting used books; great locally sourced food; and a truly amazing view. To me, this may be the sum of a perfect place.  What is your formula? What makes a place truly special to you?  Share with us below!

The Montague Bookmill is located in Montague, Massachusetts, about 20 minutes north of Northampton and just south of Greenfield.  No matter where you are coming from, its worth the trip!

Leaving Salt Traders, I clutched a bag full of various salts to my chest the way a child holds their Halloween candy, and I eyed the hefty pink salt licks, great chunks of Pakistani crystals, piled at the end of the table, heedlessly not wondering what the hell I would do with them when I brought them home, but what did they cost.  I don’t have horses, and don’t want to lure deer into my yard, but something about these 5 pound pale rose stones, still wrapped with a useful Pakistani rope, presumably for tying to a tree in the horse corral, I needed.

The salt stories alone are worth the trip to the itty-bitty shop in Ipswich that houses Salt Traders and Didi Davis Foods.  There is the Viking salt made in Denmark by a man who has researched all things Viking, including the way they procured salt, which was by boiling down huge cauldrons of sea water over a hardwood fire, the salt thus absorbing the smokey flavor.  That Dane still does this and you can take home your own 1.5 ounces of Danish hard-wood infused gray sea salt, perfumed with a bonfire.  The flavor dissolves on your tongue just before the burst of salinity, therefore not dredging taste but just reminding it of the flavor of burned juniper.

There is caviar salt, which is pearly little rounds of salt formed when the crystals skittle off the top of the simmering water to the corners of the pan, as opposed to fleur de sel, which is the first layer of delicate flakes that are raked off the surface of the water in France still with wooden rakes.

What one is after, besides various degrees of minerality and flavor in salt, is texture, and there are as many textures as there are crystal formations.  Some salt crystals crunch; some flake, and thus suit different purposes.  Some are large black, delicate pieces that melt in your mouth before there is even time for your teeth to finish a bite; some make a fine dusting for a chocolate cake.  I recently read in The New York Times that one of the tricks to making the best chocolate chip cookies in the world was a fine sprinkle of sea salt over each cookie before they bake – perhaps Fleur de Sel, the queen of French Sea Salts.

Sea salt comes from evaporated sea water and table salt is mined from underground sources.  The word “sea” alone is enough to make me reach for these salts, and, having tasted many, I’m absolutely positive of their ability to influence the tastes of foods in wonderful ways, but should you need more convincing The New York Times recently explained another important difference between table salts and sea salts:  Table salt weighs much more than sea salt; a tablespoon of table salt is almost twice as heavy as sea salt, and therefore doesn’t really sprinkle, but, yes, pours.

Salt Traders products and Didi Davis foods, a related company that produces flavored salts and Mojito Sugar and Curry Sugar, (the latter makes a wildly delicious Chai Tea-like drink) can be found at this website, and in stores. 

Or, you can drive, as I did, down a dusty industrial road in Ipswich to the tiny building that is home to those salt licks.

I miss Paris – the gorgeous gray buildings, the bridges over that little river, the cranky taxi drivers. Oh, let’s be real for a moment; I miss the food more than anything else. And since my initial post on Paris Foods You Must Eat (part 1) did so well, I thought an encore was in order.

Let’s start with the chocolate mousse, that luscious mix of cream, sugar, cocoa and air. Only this mousse is featured in a chocolate mousse bar – that’s right, folks, an entire bar of mousses made from all different types of chocolate – that is scooped out by the spatula-full into a tiny paper cone. You gotta try this good stuff, made in a shop tucked away on a sleepy section of St. Germain. Chocolat Chapon is located at 69 Rue du Bac, 75007 Paris, Tel: 01 42 22 95 98‎.

If thick chocolate mousse is not quite your speed, try the best gelato in Paris. I waited in line for 30 minutes in order to spoon this pistachio and hazelnut combo from Pozzetto (39 Rue du Roi de Sicile, 75004 Paris, Tel: 01 42 77 08 64‎) into my waiting belly. Well, I spooned it into my mouth and it traveled into my belly and… I loved it.

But you may, in fact, decide that thick chocolate mousse or creamy gelato is too much for your svelte summer figure. If that’s the case, head over to any little quickie cafe for a tiny cup of whole milk yogurt, fruit and nutty granola. It’s great for breakfast, but I was served this consistently for dessert post-lunch and was never disappointed.

From yogurt to cheese, there isn’t anything better than a selection of cheeses from your local fromagerie, a fresh crispy baguette and a bottle of organic French wine. The moment you visit Paris, put the fancy restaurants on hold and gather supplies for your own makeshift picnic in your rented flat or hotel room. Make sure to choose a creamy cheese (brie or camembert), a fresh cheese (goat) and something stinky or blue. With a fresh baguette and an easy fruity red, a pile of local cheeses was my twice-weekly dinner in the city of lights, and I lost 20 pounds while abroad. Crazy, but so true, people.

If there’s one cheese you must try, do as David Lebovitz instructs all of his followers to do and pick up some of this legendary 30-month comte. It’s so good, it made two dinner guests almost cry at my dinner table. I swear it was the cheese and not any other part of the meal. Or was it?! I picked up my wedges at La Fermette at 86, rue Montorgueil 75001 Paris.

I don’t know about you, but I think cheese just goes beautifully with booze. Except on the first sunny day in Paris, which fortunately for me, hit the city on the day after my flight home was canceled. A friend helped me heal my sadness with a walk around the Marais, including a stop at a Chilean wine bar that serves a nice dry rose in a cute round glass. Le Cap Horn (8 Rue de Birague 75004 Paris) is not terribly impressive, but perfect for a quick afternoon break. That liquid courage motivated me to buy a much-desired handbag around the corner. Thanks, Le Cap Horn!

One of the first foods I craved when I got back to the States was any sort of Chinese food. I was dreaming of these beautiful sesame shrimp toasts I had enjoyed at a cocktail party in Paris. In fact, Chinese chef Vincent Wong (geezarwong@hotmail.com, Tel: 06 75 19 25 07, 01 30 33 55 95) cooked a banquet for 20 people at my Paris flat, and I can’t stop thinking about his sesame shrimp toasts. If you’re in Paris and need a banquet fit for true gourmands, just ring or email him. He’s sweet as duck sauce.

If all this cheese and mousse and sesame shrimp toasts have filled you up, head on over to Café des Musées (49 Rue de Turenne, 75003 Paris, Tel: 01 42 72 96 17) for their delicious vegetable dish. I took a serious vegetarian there and she was delighted with the staub pot filled with roasted root vegetables and topped with fresh salad greens. She felt stuffed but had more than enough room to eat more than half of our shared dessert. Thanks, sweetie. I forgive you.

Because you left plenty of champagne for me!

Spring has sprung.  It was a glorious morning as I set out for the east bay to check out the Berkeley Farmer’s Market. The air was crisp and heavily scented with jasmine and cherry blossoms.  *sigh*  I love spring mornings…

I decided to head across the bridge to the other side of the bay to check out the Berkeley Farmer’s Market.  The Berkeley Farmers Market started in 1987 and is committed to supporting small-scale farmers who produce sustainable agriculture.  It is merely a block in length and has that good ole homey feeling.

The first thing I like to do when I arrive at a market is to grab a cup of coffee and walk the length of the market, once or twice, to see what is available.  I was in luck!  As soon as I walked up to the market, I could smell coffee, and not any coffee – very good coffee!  Not only could I smell the dark-roasted brew but I could see the crowd around the stall.  What a great surprise to see that Blue Bottle Coffee was available.  Blue Bottle is a local coffee based in Oakland, CA.  They take great pride in micro-roasting their beans.  Blue Bottle uses only the finest organic coffee beans, which are roasted in small batches.  Every cup is made to order using the drip method.

The nice thing about getting to the market a little early is being able to enjoy the serenity that is hanging over the market, as the vendors are setting up.   Hot coffee in hand, I strolled the market, planning my menu for the week.  It was very evident that spring is on the cusp, as there was an abundance of fresh asparagus, artichokes, baby leeks, green garlic, bitter but sweet dandelion greens, golden yellow chard,  flowering bok choy and a rainbow of spring time beets.  I love (big inhale as I typed these words) the smell of spring time beets …. musty, slightly dirty and a sweet dewy scent. It is hard to describe but I can almost taste them as I pull them to my nose.  I find it intoxicating like a big bold red wine.  Oh, how I love that!

The last of our favorite winter time veggies like watermelon radishes, carrots and butternut squash are still hanging on.  How I will miss them!  But I’m excited for more leeks, green garlic, chards, berries and the first sweet cherries, that will arrive in a couple months.

The Berkeley Farmer’s Market in only a block in length but they have a huge variety available.  Not only is there a beautiful assortment of produce but they also offer fresh honey, fresh baked breads, cookies and pastries, beautiful orchids (which are a steal at the price of $5 for a small one or $10 for a larger one), multi-colored eggs more beautiful than Easter dyed ones with yolks that are the most vibrant golden yellow I have ever seen.  There was fresh chicken, lamb, beef and seafood.   I was entertained by a charming fellow at Hog Island Oyster as he shucked fresh oysters for me – nothing like a hot cup of coffee and oysters  that are merely flavored by the sea to get you going for the day.  I ended up leaving with 2 pounds of fresh Manila clams!

I was in love with everything about this market.  The small time charm, the variety of the bounty, and the friendliest of the people. You will want to bring the entire family as this market is loaded with entertainment as well.   Your children will love listening to the music and playing in the large grassy area and playground that is right next door.

I really enjoyed the Berkeley Farmer’s Market and I can definitely see myself falling in love with it!

Have you ever had sweet mint tea in a just-blossoming garden filled with bright blue furniture and bright-eyed strangers, all of you just waiting for the minutes to tick, tock, tick, tock away? I have.

And the tea was so very sweet. It was honey-hued, the consistency of a sugar syrup. With a taste like candy, this tea delighted each of us in this walled-garden, especially me and the hubby (who pulled a très thoughtful pose as I clicked away on my camera).

The tea was bright but when it reflected the gray sky above, it clouded up, giving a nod to the fat rain drops that soon followed. No bother to any of us, because we were drinking tea in a garden.

We were drinking the sweetest tea in sturdy vibrant blue chairs that popped off the multicolored low walls. The furniture was both soothing and electric at the same time, lulling us to rest a while but also pepping us up for the rest of our Paris walk.

When the drops fells, it wasn’t a bother either. We simply all huddled under the elegant umbrellas and waited it out with our super sweet tea.

We were tempted to hurry inside, but instead let the drops fall around us. The inside was, however, equally gorgeous, with bright blue and gold furniture. It was empty; we were all outside under the rain drops.

All of these simple delights lie behind one of the many solid old doors surrounding one of the most beautiful mosques in Paris. You can experience the pleasures of the sweet tea, blue hues and garden vibes at La Grande Mosquée de Paris at 39 Rue Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, 75005 Paris, France. Tel: 01 43 31 18 14. There’s lots of other-worldy experiences waiting for you there, but don’t forget to drink the tea, okay?

It’s not often that we are absolutely, completely shocked by a wine.  However, this aptly named wine – The Electric – from Red Hook Winery did just that at a recent tasting.  The winery is very new and this 2008 bottle is one of about 6 different wines making up their first line of commercial releases.

Before you get too excited about these new releases, we didn’t necessarily mean “shocked” in a good way.  In fact, after having a few sips it really fundamentally challenged our whole approach to drinking wine, and called into question whether a wine should be made with the consumer in mind or if it should simply be made to suit the whims of the winemaker.  But, before we give our opinion about whether one is better than the other, what do you think?  How much should consumer taste weigh in on winemaker’s decisions? Does a “boutique wine” maker have any further license and justification to pursue strange paths of creativity than the makers of larger production wines?

Okay, so now our view…

We’d like to think that a fitting end to every wine bottle’s life is to be opened and enjoyed by someone… anyone. As a winemaker, the job is to create a pleasurable experience by putting your personality into the wine without overshadowing the natural flavors and character the environment imparts on the grapes.  However, when your personality starts to blur the purity of the grapes and the pleasure of the drinking experience, when the wine becomes more of a “project”, we’d argue the winemaker has gone too far.  There is a time and a place for experimenting with new techniques and blends or challenging commonly held traditions in winemaking… however, a flagship wine in its first commercial release is likely not that time.

But hey, that’s just our gut reaction to this wine.  We’d love to hear what you think.  Is it possible for a winemaker to ever go too far?

Anyway, at this point you might be asking “what is The Electric and what does it taste like?”  Well, it’s a blend of 95% Chardonnay (unoaked) and 5% botrytized Riesling from Long Island.  Botrytis is a fungus that causes the grapes to shrivel and dry, thus getting very sweet.  The wine smells like apple cider vinegar with some strong aromas of honey… it’s pretty rich and round in the mouth and has a nice long finish.  But truly tastes like two separate wines mixed together.  The best way of describing how it tastes is probably like imagining oxidized citrus fruit zest covered in wax.  We tried to think about possible things to pair with this and couldn’t come up with one thing.  Is it bad? Not really. Is it interesting? Certainly.

And how much will that psychedelic rainbow in your mouth cost?  A mere $42 per bottle.

Red Hook Winery 2008 The Electric| $42 at Brooklyn Wine Exchange, Brooklyn NY

Photo by http://www.flickr.com/photos/kurrs/ / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Let’s be honest. Paris may be a foodie mecca, but all that amazing food isn’t a breeze to find. You have to research, ask the locals and scout out those hidden gems (far away from all the tourists). I did a lot of those aforementioned tasks and have produced my first “Paris Foods You Must Eat” list. Expect many more parts to come, but give me some time. I’ve got about two thousand photos to sort through, and many more neighborhoods to explore before I sleep, err, leave!

Growing up in along the East Coast, I thought I had had the best seafood in the world. Um, that was until I tasted the scallops and oysters in Paris. Both are far sweeter here, with a lot more character and taste. The above scallops were caramelized and served on a beautiful plate with spring asparagus, carrots, beets and mache at one of my favorite restaurants in Montmartre called Le Miroir (94, rue des Martyrs, 18ème. Tel: 01 46 06 50 73. Metro: Abbesses or Pigalle.) If they are serving scallops the day you dine there, order them.

Perhaps it’s cliche but a visit to Paris would not be complete without tasting Berthillion’s famous ice cream (31 Rue Saint-Louis en l’Ile, 4ème. Tel: 01 43 54 31 61. Metro: Pont Marie). It’s delicious and so very pretty. A huge thank you to my very accommodating hand model who was accosted on the street by little old, wacky me.

I have indeed eaten my fair share of falafel while in Paris. Really, I’ve had no better falafel anywhere in the States. Personally, I think it’s the layering of flavors that makes each bite totally scrumptious – veggies, sauces, falafel, veggies, sauces, falafel. My favorite is directly across the street from L’As du Falafel (34, rue des Rosiers, 4ème, Metro: St. Paul), but this famous spot is delicious too.

Contrary to what I had heard and read, I have actually found a good espresso here and there across Paris. My favorite shots are accompanied with a little cookie, like here at Cafe des Musee (49 Rue de Turenne, 3ème, Metro: Chemin Vert, Tel: 01 42 72 96 17) or better yet, with a little square of dark chocolate like at Glou (101, rue Vieille du Temple, 18ème. Tel: 01 42 74 44 32. Metro: Saint Sebastien-Froissart or Arts et Metiers). Glou is also one of my favorite spots for lunch. It’s a tad over-priced, but I always have a great meal. I had the most amazing Belon oysters there, I swore I’d return before I fly back home. I better do that soon…

Okay, I didn’t eat this eclair myself but I had to slip this shot in from Le Miroir. It was served at lunch and one of my dining partners gladly ate the entire beautiful dessert that was loaded with pineapple and caramel. It’s crusty and caramelized on top – just the way I like it.

One Sunday morning while searching St. Germain for croissants, I stumbled upon La Patisserie des Rêves (93 Rue du Bac, 6eme, Metro: Rue du Bac, Tel: 01 42 84 00 82). It’s expensive (how else do they pay for all those beautiful spotlights on each dessert?) but these little vanilla buns were delicious, dense and not too sweet. Dunk them in coffee and be very pleased with yourself.

Or, you can opt to go low-fi and do the traditional baguette with butter and jam. I probably did this way too often. But it really is just sooo good. This one is from La Terrasse des Archives (51, Rue des Archives, 3eme, Metro: 3eme, Tel : 01 42 72 17 57) in the Marais.

Cafe des Musees is good for more than just a nice little coffee. The fries were thick, salty and a little crunchy. David Lebovitz loves these frites, which compelled me to try them, and they truly are delicious. They were rivaled this past weekend by frites at Bistro Paul Bert, but I don’t have a photo of those, so these will have to do.

One of my favorite foods was happened upon at a colleague’s home. The lemon tart made by her boyfriend was so delicious, and I had to snap this quick photo of all of us grabbing final bites. All this restaurant and shop food is very special, but there’s nothing quite as special as homemade dessert, especially when it’s loaded with lemon juice.

A few months ago, I gave up on my coffee machine. I was sick of the dull, bland and at times very bitter coffee that it produced. I stopped making coffee at home and took up a rather expensive quest of trying to find a really good, consistent coffee shop that was convenient to my work and home life. There were some good cups of coffee out there, yes, but I felt guilty about the money I was spending and never wanted to go fetch my coffee on the weekends. There had to be a better way! Enter the French Press.

For those of you who don’t know, a French Press is a simple brewing device, where coarse grinds are stirred into hot water, left alone for a few minutes, and then “pressed” just before serving. The direct contact of the beans with the water (instead of brewed through a filter) produces coffee that includes more of the beans’ essential oils and features a deeper flavor. With my new tool, I was ready for some quality coffee in the morning. Now I just needed some quality beans!

Throughout this process, I learned that you can have the fanciest coffee maker in the world and still make really horrible coffee. It’s about the beans, my friends!  Quality is important: how they were grown and how they are stored play a huge role in how they taste. But perhaps most important is the freshness factor.  Green, unroasted coffee beans are stable, and therefore lose freshness very slowly.  Once they are roasted though, the beans should be consumed within about a month, preferably sooner. The beans also lose freshness as soon as they are ground, so those bags of pre-ground coffee beans are already putting you at a deficit when it comes to making really good coffee.

In my search for freshly roasted coffee, it turns out I didn’t have to look very far at all.  Flat Black Coffee Company, a small company based here in Boston, roasts their beans in house at their flagship store in Lower Mills. I already knew about Flat Black Coffee, but it was their reputation as a community based coffee shop that first struck my attention. With three retail outposts in Boston, their Lower Mills shop, in the Ashmont section of Dorchester, and their location on Broad Street in downtown Boston, this small Boston company has made a real effort to become a part of their neighborhoods.

In addition, the company, whose name refers to the Australian slang word for espresso, makes a real effort to buy the most fairly traded coffee possible. Flat Black employees travel to estates in far off places like Panama and El Salvador to get to know the owners and farmers. They like to buy direct from these estates, ensuring that they have the best quality beans and that the money goes straight to those doing the growing.

While it can be tough to buy local coffee here in the Northeast (since coffee beans cannot be grown outside of tropical climates and this region is decidedly un-tropical), you can buy locally-roasted beans.  If you live in the Boston area, try Flat Black Coffee, a great small company that sells an outstanding product, with a focus on quality, source and the social and environmental impact of their industry. The best part? These beans make a really spectacular cup of coffee.  And that’s the whole point, right?

I would guess that many Eat Boutique readers have an opinion about their coffee. What is your preferred way to make home-brewed coffee? Do you have a favorite type of beans? A specific roast or source that you always buy? Share with us below!

For more tips about using a French Press, check out this post at The Kitchn. The comments are full of great information.