From the day I ate riz-au-lait for the first time in years, to the moment I thought it could make a pretty good ice-cream.
From the point I actually boiled some viallone nano rice in full-fat milk with a plump bean of vanilla, to the time I realised it would probably end up in a disaster.

But to avoid unnecessary pain, let me just sum up the facts for you.

I knew I wanted to make riz-au-lait ice-cream.
I knew the rice grains would freeze to solid pieces.
I knew it would make the tasting sort of awkward.

I just didn’t expect it to taste so good.

So after sharing the tub with a friend (somewhat embarassed because what we were eating – using the biggest spoons we could find – felt like uncooked rice in the most delicious rice pudding flavoured ice-cream), I went the easy way and cooked more rice – still in full-fat milk.

This time, I strained it. And made a – smooth – ice-cream out of it. And served it with a terrine of baked apple, some crisp cinnamon crumble, and a touch of caramel foam.

The plate ended up empty. Mostly because of this face. Rather evidently, I also took some pictures of the moment just before he grabbed his spoon. So I might write up about this sometime soon; when summer will be over.

In my world, nothing matches the happiness of being in love. As a matter of fact, I love being in love. The goosebumps, the thrill, the excitement.

Nothing. Except, perhaps, the development process of a new pâtisserie. It starts with an idea, jotted down in a small notebook. Always the same black leather bound. Always the same felt tip pen.

And then, I get dirty. Taste. And adjust.

Most of the times, it’s far from perfect. But despite being the entremet girl that I am, I still feel that rush whenever I manage to come up with something that doesn’t look like a stack of sponge, mousse and intérieur.

I like to call it minimalism. When in fact, it’s just the result of my inability to decompose and arrange on a plate.

The latest victim was a lovely white chocolate and honey sponge with poached apricots and a quenelle of pistachio ice-cream. And trust me, it tasted pretty damn fine.

So I plan to share the recipe. And rant about how I wish I was better at making desserts look pretty. As soon as I will have caught up with my bed. I miss it. So.

Run to the downstairs kitchen. Tell Elliot – the pastry commis – to put a prune tart into the oven. Grab a large rectangle plate. Pipe a thin line of wine reduction. Drain a prune marinated in spiced wine. Place it on the plate. Take the roasted nibbed almonds box. Sprinkle a couple of them onto the plate for the Armagnac ice cream to sit on them later. Wait for the prune tart to be fully baked.

And observe the guys around. One is plating some salmon. Another is deep frying. Another is making soup. Another is cleaning the edges of a shiny white plate. The chef is checking the plates before they are sent.

Service please!

Elliot brings the soufflé tart. It looks like a golden cloud. I sprinkle one of its halves with icing sugar, then carefully place it on the far-left of the prepared plated. A quenelle of Armagnac ice cream, and a loud:

Service please! Table ten.

At the Capital Hotel, the downstairs kitchen could be described in a few words: hot, skilled and vibrant.
Plates are coming from the different sections on a matter of seconds. Waiters keep popping to call for starters, mains and desserts.

But as much as I love the excitement and rush, I must admit, I have a crush for those three-nights-a-week that I spent in the upstairs kitchen.

Up there, things are different. Quiet and slow.

Even when there is a party to be sent, we always do it in a restricted team. Three chefs, and one pastry chef.
All of a sudden, the usually-still room turns into a miniature version of the downstairs kitchen. We clear the central work plan, arrange plates, get that burner working, close the doors for maximum heat so the plates won’t go cold.

Then I hear a: desserts in ten minutes!

I have all the components for the prune tart ready. Red wine reduction, marinated prunes, isomalt sugar, Armagnac ice-cream.

The tarts themselves are in the oven. It’s time for some plating action. I un-clingfilm the pile of plates that have been prepared for me and start drawing lines of reduction across all of them.

You know the rest already…

PS. The pictures were taken with my film Pentax ME Super, which seems to be my camera of choice for the restaurant.

Quite unexpectedly, summer showed up; with its glorious harvest, hot breezes and refreshing drinks.

Quite unexpectedly, I hadn’t noticed how time flew by. These past months; this past year.

It seems that since I came back from New Zealand, things haven’t stopped. Not even for a brisk moment. New Zealand. Bang. Nice. Bang. Pierre Hermé. Bang. Nice. Bang. Paris. Bang. Toulouse. Bang. Nutrition & Santé. Bang.

Nutrition & Santé. That’s what keeps me busy at the moment. And actually, that’s what has kept me busy for the past few months as well.

It might sound cliché, but although four months have passed by, the day I arrived feels like it was yesterday. Now the project I’ve been working on is drawing to an end, and just the thought of it gives me that strange sensation: I know where all those hours of hard work go – into a terrific biscuit, period; however, I can’t help but wonder why the hours faded away this fast.

Time is such a delicate concept. Something you can’t grasp unless you’re missing it. Yes, time is one of those things you aren’t aware of until the day you realise you don’t have it anymore.

And I think this day has come for me.

Sure, I’ve always complained about how I don’t have enough time to make random things. But today is an entirely different matter. I just realised I haven’t lived for a year. I just kept doing what people wanted – expected – me to. And, well, yes, the whole I-hate-not-having-spare-time situation is part of it, but it was only a very teeny part.

I’m happy though.

Everything I do makes sense. Giving people happiness. Sharing. Working. Having fun. But somehow it feels different.

Maybe I’ve just become an adult. A lovingly crazy adult, that is; but adult nonetheless.

By the way, are adults allowed to eat ice cream sandwiches now and then?

Gosh, thank you. Can’t believe I once saw adults as austere beings. If only I knew back then, that one can have the life one dreams about.

Brownies-like cookies en ice cream sandwich au chocolat et à la banane

Okay, so let’s get this off right away. I did not make this luscious banana and chocolate chunk ice cream. I wish I had, but I’m the sad owner of a non-turbine-à-glace. Read: please somebody buy me an ice cream machine.

The inexpensive ones don’t fit in my tiny freezer and the huge ones… well, I just seem not to be able to keep six hundred euros long enough for me to rush to Darty and get myself the most prized and loved Magimix.

Anyway, this is mostly a recipe for cookies. Killer cookies that taste and feel like brownies. I love them. Day and night. But I have to admit, I love them even more with ice cream sandwiched in between two of them.

To me, the perfect ice cream conveyor. Cookies that make me wish ice cream sandwiches were more popular in France than they currently are. Maybe one day.

La coupe glacée: pétale de rose et lychee with gaspacho de framboises.

I could share with you my foolproof recipe for a perfect tarte au citron meringuée [lemon meringue tart], my new exciting idea, the lovely places I discovered during my one-week road trip around les Alpilles, the best risotto ever to be made or even my method for flawless pâte sucrée. Yep, I could, but instead I’m spending my mornings at Pierre Hermé’s pastry shop – making pâtes, viennoiseries, sablés and brioches -, and my afternoon wandering around Paris.

Yesterday, I had lunch at Le café La Jatte – a lovely place located on the Jatte Island in Neuilly.
The food was simple yet elegant, with clean and fresh flavours: just the way I love it on a daily basis.

I started with a tartare de saumon d’Ecosse. The salmon was deliciously accompanied with a tangy fennel salad – a perfect match.

The chèvre frais moulé à la cuillère with concombre émincé and pamplemousse à la menthe fraîche was a hit too – ideal for a hot summer day.

Then I had wonderful lasagnes vegetariennes; these vegetarian lasagne had a great smoky flavour (brought by roasting the vegetables, I guess) that balanced the creaminess of the ricotta cheese.
My fellow lunch-er picked the daurade royale grillée, beurre citron-poivre,
pommes de terre roseval, which although scary-looking (am I the only one to find whole fish on the creepy-side?) was utterly delicious.

As a I-want-to-be-a-pastry-chef person, I had to have dessert – to taste, you know.
I chose a very aromatic pêche rôtie served with glace à la vanille Bourbon and amandes caramélisées. The peach, which is roasted, has a delightfully soft and sweet flesh.

The coupe glacée * : pétale de rose et lychee with gaspacho de framboises was fresh and as you can guess, inspired by Pierre Hermé’s signature entremet: Ispahan.
* I just love the old-fashioned connotation of the words! (I know, I know, useless note, but I had to say it).

As you may imagine, the lunch was seamless. But the day was about to become even better. As I was riding my bike home, I made a détour and stopped by Galignani – a great English bookshop where I bought the Rose bakery cookbook and Skye Gyngell’s book (blame Keiko and all her wonderful articles about the Pertersham Nurseries for that one).
As I was craving to read them, I crossed the Seine to visit le Café de Flore – a favourite for citron pressé, café glace and Mariages Frères teas.
There I had my regular citron pressé, which is basically freshly squeezed lemon juice served with a grande carafe d’eau and some sugar – sooo refreshing.

Now, if everyday resembles that one, how am I going to share with you my foolproof recipe for a perfect tarte au citron meringue [lemon meringue tart], my new exciting idea, the lovely places I discovered during my one-week road trip around les Alpilles, the best risotto ever to be made or even my method for flawless pâte sucrée?
Moreover, I still have an awfully insane number of things to do in Paris. Here is the liste officielle (the real one if much too long for me to tell you; I’m way too ashamed of it):
- buy weird Asian ingredients at chez Tang Frères
- have tea or lunch or brunch at Rose bakery
- buy the most wonderful organic vegetables at marché Raspail
- eat more prawn and chicken Chinese wontons from la Grande Epicerie (and while I’m at it, buy Jean-Yves Bordier’s butter)
- have some falafel at l’As du Falafel
- try Berthillon ice-creams
- go and see Rachel at La Cocotte
- visit La librairie gourmande
- try anything from Sadaharu Aoki
- buy Pierre Hermé’s croissants, croissants aux amandes, brioches… for the upcoming write-up about the two weeks I spent au tour (the post where doughs are made)
And many many many more… Any ideas?

It seems I’ve always been what you would call a summer lover. Forget ski bunnies; for me everything is about sun, heat, sea, sand and ice cream. Oh and I forget: sunglasses.
I am truly inspired by summer and I think it shows.In fact I *so* love summer that I can remember every single one of them: from 1989 to now. Most of my summers were spent at my grand-parents’ house on the Atlantic coast and I would have my lovely cousin as a companion de jeu.

We would build des châteaux de sables immenses [sand castles], pretend we were selling ice cream (which was indeed made of a mix of sand and sea water), make rose water (that smelled like anything but actual rose water) and eventually, we would watch Peau d’Ane over and over again.
It had to be our favourite movie. Actually we knew every single song from it. But we were, first and foremost, fascinated by Peau d’Ane’s dresses.
Une robe couleur du temps [a dress the colour of the sky]
Une robe couleur de lune [a dress the colour of the moon]
Une robe couleur de soleil [a dress as bright as the sun]

We would inevitably end up arguing about which dress was the most beautiful; for me it definitely was the robe couleur du temps. Though, I also really liked the dress as bright as the sun; a tough decision for sure.

However, no matter how pleasant these recollections are, my greatest memory has to be les melons charentais [melons from Charente] that my grandmother used to take back from the market every Saturday morning.
They were juicy and sweet; actually they were exactly what you expect from a melon.

Melon and champagne sorbet
Today I’m still considering melon as a favourite because it offers endless combinations.
I think it does work really well as a sorbet; it’s fragrant and the bitterness of the champagne counterbalances the sweetness of the melon.
The resulting sorbet was really smooth and not icy at all. A real keeper.

Just a short note about how to make ice cream without an ice cream maker – although using an ice cream maker is more convinient and will give better results, you can try the freeze and mix method:
“Pour the ice cream mixture into a wide freezer-proof container. Cover with a sheet of greaseproof paper to avoid ice crystals forming on the surface. Cover with a lid and place on a level surface in the coldest part of the freezer.
After between ½-1½ hours, the sides of the ice cream will be solid, and the middle will remain a wet slush. Transfer it to a bowl and whisk with an electric beater, or by hand, until uniformly thick.
You could also pulse it in a food processor. When smooth, replace it in the freezer. Repeat 3 times, every ½-1 hour, or until the ice cream is uniformly thick. Freeze for another hour.” (adapted from Waitrose)

A little more than a year ago, the movie Charlie and the Chocolate factory was finally released on screen.
As a foodie and chocolate-addict I had to see it. I was sure I would enjoy and I did.
The story is great. But my favourite part of the movie is the behind-the-scene stuff: the luscious chocolate river, the whipped cream, the back-shop… A pure delight for both the eyes and mind.Ever since I’ve been obsessed with chocolate (ok I have to admit that I am just trying to find a reason to my ever-chocolate-obsession); but how one can’t be obsessed with chocolate once one discovers the creativity and yumminess of Willy Wonka’s chocolates.

Sometimes I like to think that the WW chocolate factory does exist and that I am able to buy its delicious treats.
Sadly I can’t.
But by making this gelato I found the true essence of Willy Wonka’s ever lasting chocolate gelato: creamy, intense, delicious.

To tell the truth I came across gelato quite late in life. All I knew was crème glacée [ice cream] and sorbet.
I’ve always find ice cream a bit too creamy and sorbets a bit too icy; so the discovery of gelatos (or gelati) has changed my whole perception of iced delights.
I don’t really know how gelato should be defined, but in my approach a gelato (which is by the way the Italian name for ice cream) is an ice cream made without cream, but still containing eggs and dairy products.

I love gelato for many reasons:
it is creamy but not heavy
it is soft and not icy
in one word: THE ice cream luxury
As Willy Wonka could have said!

From Gourmet magazine July 99

Intense chocolate gelato
This gelato is very intense. I love its deep chocolate-flavour, its creamy texture and the fact that it holds its shape well even by hot summer weather.

Apricots… What to say about apricots?
A golden velvety skin.
A sweet tender flesh.
Really you must love them!

I’m lucky to have an apricot tree in the back of my garden and though the tree is really old, it still produces the best apricots one can have. Juicy, sweet and soft… In one word: the perfect apricot.

It seems the combinations are endless. But with apricots i usually prefer to keep it simple.
Bite in a luscious apricot just picked from the tree.
Or cook them into a compote.
Or mix them with ice, as below, to get a fresh summer drink.
Or slice them finely and sprinkle over a goat’s milk faiselle with a drizzle of honey.Today i’d like to discover something new and i am interested in the ways YOU use apricots.
Do you have a favourite recipe using apricots?
I am looking for a sophisticated dessert that highlights the freshness of apricots.
Any suggestion welcomed!

Summer apricot iced drink

This drink embodies the fruit at its purest form. No added sugar, just ice and water.
It is very refreshing, as you may have already guessed.
I love to have this after a hot summer day or even in the morning, for breakfast.