Emily in France 🇫🇷 On Apéro Dinatoire
Heat waves demand apéro dinatoire.
A few days ago, I saw my cousin for the first time in years. Over the course of our catchup, she asked me what one of the biggest differences between America and France was. And while I have a few oft-cited examples up my sleeve – attitudes towards, for example, customer service or lunch hours – given the heat (and the sunburn I was nursing at the time), my mind alighted on air conditioning. Specifically, its absence in France.
Now I'm not a huge fan of air conditioning, in part because I've grown less used to it, over the years. It means I have to carry a cardigan everywhere I go (and often means I end up with at least one summer cold). But it does mean that in the U.S., I'm not entirely opposed to eating cooked food even when it's 90 degrees outside. In France... not so much.
Summer meals in France – and Paris specifically – tend to be of the kind the Washington Post recently termed snacking, fending, and a host of other fun, family-specific words. After living in France for 15 years, I always call these sorts of snacky dinners apéro dinatoire, which lends a certain pomp and circumstance to a dinner of, say, a slightly battered cucumber dragged through dregs of hummus and followed by a full pound of icy-cold watermelon eaten directly out of a Tupperware, or scraps of cheese leftover from tours cobbled together with slices of ripe fig and cold rosé.
Apéro dinatoire is actually one of my favorite ways to eat dinner: A platter of cheese, some crudités, maybe a savory cake or a quiche. It stands in stark contrast to the usual apéro snacks offered in France, which is usually a simple saucer of pretzels or chips. (The Neapolitans, I learned this summer, are far better at these offerings than the French – maybe because they have less appreciation for drink and more for food? Either way, the taralli I gorged myself on the entire time I was there were more than enough of a meal, most of the time.)
Whether you call it snacking, fending, or apéro-ing... a bit of this and a bit of that feels like one of the best ways to enjoy summer's bounty. Especially in a heat wave.
Cheese of the Week
While hanging with family over the weekend, my aunt asked me about a cheese – Taleggio – that she'd smelled without trying on a recent pizza excursion, wondering how ever anyone could think it would taste in any way palatable. I am, of course, no stranger to the funk of a washed rind cheese; I love them. (Though I get how their aroma can be off-putting.)
This specimen was one I tried recently while visiting my aunt in Northampton. We snagged the Tobasi from her local farmer's market after sampling both of the producer's washed-rind cheeses. This one, created in the image of a Taleggio, has a custardy interior and a mushroomy, woodsy, smoky aroma. And best of all – it's made with raw milk!
To discover more of my favorite cheeses, be sure to follow me on Instagram @emily_in_france and tune into the Terroir Podcast, where Caroline Conner and I delve into France's cheese, wine, and more one region at a time.
What I'm Eating
In a city so synonymous with a host of classic dishes, from escargots to French onion soup, from oeuf-mayo to croque monsieur, it’s forever surprising to visitors how ho-hum, middling, or just plain bad most iterations of classic French bistro fare truly are in the capital. (Find out more about that with my story on why French bistros are museums of their former selves.)
Bouillon République is not a bistro. It’s actually a member of a whole other category of restaurant I’ll be discussing on Navigating the French with the inimitable Allison Zinder very soon. And yet categorization aside, it may well be my favorite place to dig into classics associated with the bistro – and with French fare in general. More on the blog.
Discover more of my foodie finds via Instagram @emily_in_france.
What I'm Writing
1. As the capital of a country with over a thousand cheeses to choose from, Paris is ripe and ready for turophiles, with a host of different ways to discover the wealth of dairy that is the Parisian cheesescape. I've rounded up the best shops, cheese carts, tastings, and cheese-focused restaurants for Fodor's.
2. If you’ve been noticing a dearth of sriracha at your local supermarket, you’re not alone. But instead of hoarding the familiar, green-capped bottles, why not try an alternative hot sauce from one of San Francisco's top chefs? For InsideHook.
3. This inside-out cheeseburger is a staple of the Midwest, and one Miami chef is showing us the ropes on how to perfect it. For InsideHook.
What I'm Saying
1.The Auvergne isn't the most-visited area of France, but it really should be: Home not only to the Michelin guide and to 80 dormant volcanoes, the Auvergne boasts a rich, little-known wine tradition, some of the country's most delicious cheeses, and perhaps the only lentil protected by law. Tune in here to learn more!
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2. In a land known for its pastry, one word seems to carry a lot of weight. Doux can mean sweet, unsalted, mild, or even soft. To discuss why this is – and what the French expect in terms of both taste and texture when it comes to their food – I'm is talking with Jane Bertch, founder and owner of La Cuisine cooking school in Paris. Listen here!
What I'm Reading
1. I read Elena Ferrante's My Brilliant Friend back when everyone was obsessed with it, but rereading it years later – particularly in Naples – gave this story of lifelong female friendship a new resonance.
2. One goat farming couple in central Ohio is committed to keeping even animals that no longer produce milk – and they're inviting people to sponsor a goat to help. In Modern Farmer.
3. This short story from Rachel Kushner rehashes a few tired tropes but nevertheless manages to offer a keen study in perspective and point of view. In the New Yorker.
A bientôt !