Mastering the Art of Tuesday Dinner with Ann Mah...

When I heard about Mastering the Art of French Eating, a book about my favorite subjects—moving to Paris and French food—this Francophile could not resist. I tried very hard to make it last by reading just one chapter a day. Not easy, because Ann Mah is a gifted and witty writer.

In each chapter Ann visits a different region in France to learn about and make the area's signature dish, like the Soupe au Pistou she helps prepare with the local Bonnieulaises at the village soup fête. She interweaves history, culture, an amusing cast of characters, lots more recipes and, oh, adjusting to her new life in Paris.  

Hungry for more, I found Ann's debut novel, Kitchen Chinese, at my local library. After getting fired from her magazine job in NYC, Isabelle, an American-born Chinese writer nearing thirty, moves to Beijing and lands a job as a food critic for an English-language magazine. There’s romance, sibling rivalry, and lots of meals. The mouth-watering descriptions made me nostalgic for my trip to Beijing and Shanghai. Despite a sore throat that started on the plane and got much worse, I was determined to try every exotic dish that was put in front of me. And I did. Eventually ending up spending an evening in the People's 6th Hospital in Shanghai on an IV drip. That’s an attraction most tourists will never see. But it was worth it. And so is the book!

When I discovered Ann's blog, ANN MAH, Adventures in Food, France and Beyond, I devoured that too. Imagine how excited I was when Ann invited me to share a Tuesday Dinner recipe on the blog. 

Cherry Tomato Pasta with Breadcrumbs

Breakfast at Shanghai International Center of Educational Exchange

Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes

I read nearly half of Elizabeth Bard’s new book, Picnic in Provence, on a flight from L.A. to New York. This honest and often humorous account of becoming a mother and moving to a small village in Provence is pure pleasure. I interrupted my husband from his book several times to share a paragraph or two.

Bard bravely explores the difficult personal conflicts that arise from cultural differences between herself and her French belle-mère. And between her newly French self and her American mother. Her description of celebrating a Jewish holiday in France is enlightening and sobering. 

“Five generations of my Russian peasant ancestors are rolling over in their graves. Long did they toil, sweat, struggle, to escape the shtetl. Hopeful, they passed through Ellis island to live the American dream of a chicken in every pot and a dryer in every mudroom. And now one of their progency is reduced (voluntarily no less) to hanging her washing on the line of the garden. Oy.”

Elizabeth recounts experiences with idiosyncratic French customs, a residue of Napoleonic France. The judge who approves baby names to ensure that parents don’t give their children offensive or silly names that might subject the child to ridicule. She is encouraged to attend perineal rééducation classes paid for by the state. She is admonished by a man on the street, “Attention aux kilos” while snacking on a pain au chocolat between meals.

There are Delicious Recipes: Dark chocolate Mendiants topped with chopped nuts and dried fruits. (Mendiant chocolat is my favorite ice cream from Berthillon Paris.) Zucchini cream soup. Chicken livers salad. Broiled sea bass. Yellow lentil puree (memories of last summer in Puglia). Tuna tartare.

Bard met Diane Johnson, doyenne of American expat writers and author of Le Divorce, after the publication of Lunch in Paris, and her endorsement appears on the cover of her new book. At a dinner party at Diane's home in Paris in 2009, I passed my phone around the table to share initial sketches for Paris-Chien, my first book. Diane's encouragement and story advice were incredibly helpful to me.

As good as Lunch in Paris was, Picnic in Provence is even better!