The Sweet Life in Paris: Delicious Adventures in the World's Most Glorious - and Perplexing - City by David Lebovitz Read Free Book Online Page B

on the brink of starvation on a French autoroute. I noticed that the traditional rules of etiquette were tossed aside by McDo diners, as evidenced by the multitude of paper and plastic wrappers that littered the tables and floors from the overstuffed trash cans. The other diners around me were picking up their food with their fingers—even their hamburgers!—and drinking soda with their meal (which is odd, considering wine was happily available) amid a few nods to the region, like the faux farm scenes painted on the walls, the chèvre option on the cheeseburgers, and the merciful absence of plaster clowns lurking about.
    It wasn’t especially fast nor was it especially cheap. Nor was it any good. Other than the fact that it was open in the late afternoon for lunch, a rarity in the countryside, I didn’t see the point of ever returning to one; unlike the French, who like it so much that every six days, somewhere in France, a new McDonald’s opens.
    I think it may be because McDo is one of the few places where the French can let down their guards—and their knives—and relax and enjoy their meals without worrying about minding their manners. In fact, maybe I should give it another try. After all, I’m pretty adept at eating hamburgers. And there isn’t any of that annoying fresh fruit on the menu, either.
TAGINE DE POULET AUX ABRICOTS ET AUX AMANDES
CHICKEN TAGINE WITH APRICOTS AND ALMONDS
MAKES 4 TO 6 SERVINGS
    The first time I cooked dinner for French people in my little kitchen, I assumed that half a chicken would be the right amount for each person, American-style.But I’ve cut back on my shopping, since the French are content, and patient enough, to fuss endlessly with a lone chicken leg for much longer than I thought humanly possible. I derive endless fascination from watching them extract each and every morsel of meat from a bony wing with finely honed, surgical precision.
    Although I’m getting over my fear of eating fresh fruits in public, dried fruits don’t pose a similar problem. I like to use them when making a
tagine
, a typical North African casserole that Parisians have taken a liking to. I find sun-dried apricots, French prunes, Armenian peaches, and Iranian dates at Sabah, an Arabic market that sits on the corner of the busy marché d’Aligre (see Resources, page 271). The tight aisles are crammed with everything from olives and preserved lemons, bobbing away in their brine, to sacks of nuts and dried fruits from all over the world. Although they have a pretty fascinating selection of spices, I make a trip across town for saffron to Goumanyat (see Resources, page 271), which specializes in saffron and is truly a mecca for spice-lovers as well.
    4 ounces (125 g) dried apricots
    1 chicken, cut into 8 pieces (2 legs, 2 thighs, and each breast cut in half crosswise, leaving wings attached)
    1 teaspoon ground ginger
    1 teaspoon ground turmeric
    2 teaspoons paprika
    ¼ teaspoon saffron threads
    1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
    2 teaspoons coarse salt Freshly ground black pepper
    2 tablespoons (30 g) butter, salted or unsalted
    1 large onion, finely chopped
    2 cups chicken stock (if using canned, use a low-salt brand) or water
    ⅓ cup (10 g) chopped fresh cilantro, plus a bit extra for garnish
    1 tablespoon honey
    Juice of ½ lemon
    ¾ cup (75 g) blanched almonds, toasted
Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).
Put the apricots in a small bowl and pour boiling water over them to cover. Set aside.
In a large bowl, toss the chicken pieces with the ginger, turmeric, paprika, saffron, cinnamon, salt, and pepper.
Melt the butter in a large Dutch oven or similar ovenproof casserole. Add the onion and cook for 5 minutes over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until translucent.
Add the chicken and cook for 3 minutes, turning the pieces with tongs to release the fragrance of the spices. Pour in the stock, add the cilantro, and cover.
Bake for 50 minutes, turning the chicken pieces once or twice while they’re