Don't let it slip you by, pt. 1

Yes, it is the summer of 2012.  And, yes, it's important to not let this summer (or any other) slip you by, especially when you live in a nordic country.*

 fig. a:  preparations were made

If you don't have the means to get out of town:  eat al fresco as much as possible, and if you can do so in the proximity of an outdoor ping pong table, all the better.  You'll have to bring your own paddles (BYOP), as well as your own table tennis balls, and you may have to wait your turn (God knows outdoor ping pong has its dedicated followers), but if you pack yourself a nice picnic and you lubricate the proceedings with a sufficient amount of chilled whites and rosés, you'll find the results most agreeable.  You may want to bring your pétanque set to amuse yourself during intermissions, but this step is purely optional.  You may also want to bring your swimsuit--there may very well be a pool nearby to help you beat the heat.**

Recommended meal:  salade niçoise with a crusty loaf of bread + tomato and ricotta tartinades.

Recommended bottle:  Thymiopoulos Vineyards' 2011 rosé de xinomavro

Basic Salade Niçoise*** 

height-of-season salad greens
height-of-season tomatoes
high-quality olive-oil-packed tuna
high-quality olives of your choosing, like picholines
hard-boiled eggs
gently poached green beans, preferably those French-style skinny ones
boiled new potatoes
extra-virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar
salt and freshly ground black pepper 

Make sure your green beans have been poached to perfection.  They should crisp-tender.  Make sure your potatoes are boiled just-so.  You don't want them mushy.  You can use the same pot of boiling water for both, but, for heaven's sake, don't cook them at the same time.

Assemble the salads on your plates out of the first seven ingredients listed above.  Dress each salad individually by eye and/or according to taste.  Salt and pepper each salad as you wish. 

Tomato and Ricotta Tartinades 

baguette
fresh ricotta
height-of-season tomatoes
extra-virgin olive oil
salt and freshly ground black pepper 

Tear off pieces of a crusty baguette.  Split them in two.  Slather them with ricotta.  Top them with slices of tomato or halved cherry tomatoes.  Dress with a drizzle of olive oil, salt, and pepper.

You've eaten and drunk well.  You've worked up a mild sweat playing ping pong.  Haven't you done enough?  Take yourself out for ice cream, perhaps after a dip in the pool.

aj

* Formerly nordic?  

** You can find all three of these features (the outdoor ping pong tables, the pétanque courts, and the swimming pool) at Parc Laurier in the Laurier Village neighborhood of Montreal.  On weekday evenings, admission to the pool is FREE.

*** The true salade niçoise is a hotly debated topic in some parts of the world.  This version puts an emphasis on ease and immediacy over authenticity, while insisting on the best of ingredients.  Now is the time!

Highlights: Nice

The pan bagnat at Lou Pilha Leva
Originally uploaded by ajkinik.

As mentioned in an earlier post (“Pizza in Marseille”), my sister and I spent a couple of glorious days in Nice in September. All right, it wasn’t all sunshine and soccas—the afternoon we arrived we were greeted with several hours of torrential rain. I’ve got a couple of friends who came to Nice in the fall a few years ago and endured about 9 days of continuous downpour, so I had a few moments of panic, but by 6:00 that evening the skies had cleared up, and an hour later we were on the beach for the first of several dips in the Mediterranean during the short time we were there. (After what was largely a cold, rainy, dreary non-summer in Köln/Bonn, swimming in the sea was much-needed therapy.) Anyway, Nice is no slouch when it comes to food, as is well known, and we tried to make the most of it.

One lunch was spent at Lou Pilha Leva (10 Rue du Collet) in the heart of le Vieux Nice. There, the seating is open-air and informal and the restaurant is actually spread across two sides of the street. One side is the food side, the other side specializes in drinks. You queue up on the food side to place your order and collect your dishes, but then waiters/busboys circulate to take your drink orders and clear the tables. We had our second pissaladière—the classic Niçoise tarte topped with caramelized onions, a few olives, a few anchovies, and some herbes de Provence—in two days, but Lou Pilha Leva’s was by far and away the superior one. The crust was crispier than the one we’d had the day before, the topping was tastier, with the onions expertly prepared. It was also warmer this time around, more satisfying. We accompanied our pissaladière with our very first socca—yet another staple in this region. Socca is a crêpe made with a chickpea flour and olive oil batter that’s then poured into these huge, round pans and baked in the oven. At Lou Pilha Leva the soccas come out of the oven fresh every couple of minutes and they’re swiftly scooped onto plates for the eager crowds. There’s not much to socca and it’s typically served unadorned, but it has a lovely flavor and it makes for great finger food. We completed our trio of Niçois classics by having a pan bagnat. We’d had a couple since we’d been on the Mediterranean, but, again, Lou Pilha Leva’s was the best of the lot. It came overstuffed with tomatoes, peppers, tuna, and olives, and literally bursting with an olive oil-heavy vinaigrette. Outstanding. The meal was capped by an impromptu performance by a roaming band of buff, tan, shirtless, drawstring-pants-wearing capoeira enthusiasts. I’m a bit of a sucker for that kick-the-cigarette-out-of-the-nervous-tourist’s-mouth trick.

Later that same day (remember, we had to work quickly), my sister and I took a tip from some friends and made our way to l’Escalinida (Rue Pairolière). The skies were misting slightly—even though we couldn’t see any clouds—but we chose to eat al fresco anyway. The dining room was nice and cozy, but the courtyard outside--again, in the heart of le Vieux Nice--was so much more picturesque (so we thought). We ordered wine and a salade Niçoise to begin with. The salad was the definitive Niçoise, made with an artisanal flair. Everything was top-notch, from the greens, to the olives, to the tuna, and the vinaigrette and herbs were perfectly balanced. We followed this up with two brilliant mains. I had the gnocchi with pistou on a tip from one of my friends, while my sister had the veal piccata. The gnocchi were made on premises and were touted as being a specialty of the house. They were, without question, the most tender gnocchi I’ve ever had, and the pistou that adorned them was outstanding. The veal piccata came served with homemade tagliatelle, and the entire combination was fantastic. The veal was beautifully prepared and it came with a delicate marsala sauce. The noodles were simply dreamy. Then the fireworks really started. Literally. Towards the end of our meal some invisible, rooftop punks started firing fireworks directly into l’Escalinida’s open-air seating area. Éclater la bourgeoisie! When the third missile ricocheted off our table and the wait staff still hadn’t done anything more than stare impotently towards the rooftops and scratch their heads, we left, deciding to take dessert at Fenocchio, the master gelato makers, instead of in the line of fire.

The next day, before our late-morning, train, I made the mandatory visit to Alziari (14 Rue St. François de Paule) to pick up one of the world’s finest olive oils. Our friends had brought us back a 1/2-liter can a few years earlier. We’d been dreaming about it ever since that can ran dry. You can get Alziari olive oil in Paris (hell, apparently you can get it at Williams-Sonoma), but it’s much cheaper if you get in Nice and the store is well worth a visit. I picked up a 1-liter can for our household and a few 1/2-liter cans for family and friends. I also picked up some tapenade and some herbes de Provence. I desperately wanted to get some of their cailletier olives, too, but I was already overloaded. I tried a couple though, and, God, they were good (even at 8:30 A.M.).

aj