Emily in France 🇫🇷 An Ode to the Citron Pressé
The best drink at any café
I spend a lot of time writing in a very specific sort of café. It typically has a red awning, though it doesn't have to. It may also be a tobacconist, though that’s not a requirement. I prefer such a café to be expansive enough that I can get lost at the back, where waiters will forget about me for hours, though I've also been known to frequent the kinds of places that have just a handful of tables arranged in a long line, where you sit in such close quarters with your neighbors you need to push past them on your way to the bathroom.
The only true unifying factors to the kind of café I like is as follows: It must stay open late, and it must serve a citron pressé.
A citron pressé is essentially make-your-own lemonade and is by far, my favorite thing to order in any classic French café. It can be enjoyed at any time of day, which unfortunately is no longer the case with coffee, for me, and despite no shortage of people, usually men of a certain age, providing evidence to the contrary, I find it imprudent to recommend of kir or Pastis at 11am. A citron pressé suits both morning and night equally, and moreover, it offers equal parts theatricality and that oh-so-Parisian approach to affordable luxury I so adore.
A citron pressé is typically delivered in three pieces – a glass of fresh lemon juice, a pitcher of water, and a touch of sugar – which the drinker is free to mix to their liking. But the role of the drinker in the finished drink’s composition is just one variable dividing one citron pressé from another. Depending on the café, you may be provided accoutrements – ice, a straw, a spoon. I've even received a little ice bucket to cool the drink to my preferred temperature.
I've enjoyed citrons pressés in tall highball glasses or squat tumblers of cut crystal. The sugar has been delivered in a diner-esque dispenser as often as in packets. I once had the distinct pleasure of receiving raw cane sugar, which gave the drink an almost caramelized flavor, but on more than one occasion, I’ve had to ask to be given any at all.
The price of a citron pressé varies greatly, depending on the neighborhood. To my mind, anything under 6 euro is a steal; upwards of 7 is tantamount to highway robbery.
As a bit of a connoisseuse of citrons pressés, I have to say, I love them all. But if I could design my prototypical ideal, it would come with a liter-sized carafe of cool (not cold) water, a dispenser of sugar rather than packets, which predetermine the drink as either too sweet or far from enough, and a bucket of ice on the side, to cool it back down when invariably, in a flurry of productivity, I’ve let it linger too long to be refreshing anymore.
Cheese of the Week
We're taking a jaunt to Italy with this week’s cheese, which I scored at Gautier, one of my favorite local cheese shops. The Nero Fumé hails from the Veneto, where the cow's milk blue is aged in smoky Lapsang Souchong tea. It's the creation of Sergio Moro, the cheesemaker behind Latteria Moro, who got the idea while attending a Tea and Cheese seminar in Milan. With the characteristic sweetness one expects from Italian blue cheeses and a fairly firm texture, this is a relatively mild cheese, which likely has at least something to do with the pasteurized milk at its core. I like the way the hint of smoke plays with the richness of the cheese.
To discover more of my favorite cheeses, be sure to follow me on Instagram @emily_in_france, subscribe to my YouTube channel, 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
It’d be easy to assume, given Café du Coin’s Instagram feed, that its pizzette are the backbone of the menu. And you wouldn’t be wrong. But you wouldn’t be totally right either. More on the blog.
Where I’m Going
1. To Ducasse sur Seine, for a very special Champagne cruise following the unfortunate flooding that kept our boat from setting sail earlier this year.
2. To Hôtel du Nord, the restaurant occupying the space made famous in the film of the same name.
3. To wander the 17th – a neighborhood I know but poorly – to see if a friend and I can discover a new side of Paris.
What I'm Writing
1. A Michelin star is one of the highest culinary honors to be bestowed on a restaurant, but for decades, the process around how they're awarded has been shrouded in secrecy. I asked chefs how it really works, for the BBC.
2. I didn't write it… but I was quoted in this story by Chloé Braithwaite about the bike race all about cheese. In SBS Food.
3. From the archives: Not only is “Je suis excité” not the appropriate way to convey excitement in French, but there seems to be no real way to express it at all. For the BBC.
FAQs
With the goal of bringing you the content you crave, I've solicited your help. What questions can I answer for you? Drop them into the newsletter chat, and I’ll answer as many as I can!
What I'm Reading
1. This multi-generational epic is at once a keen study of the complexities of motherhood and a love letter to Hawai'i. And it's ultra-readable to boot. I loved getting lost in the early perspectives, and I found the jolt of the second narrator thrilling and rewarding. I also loved the plural chorus that punctuated the main characters' recollections with their third person observations, providing the perfect structural illustration of what it is to grow up in a small community where everyone is always looking out for – and watching – everyone. And I adored the way it wove the essential history and politics of the island into the narrative. Towards the end, the head-jumping became a bit claustrophobic, and getting the story from multiple perspectives lent less clarity than sheer repetition, but this still remains a lovely, powerful read.
2. This very complete overview of the People’s Spring of ’48. In the Digital Encyclopedia of European History.
3. This exploration of Kamala Harris’s code-switching as being emblematic of her true self. I particularly liked the following insight: “It is in this light that we must evaluate an X post like ‘It’s pretty weird to change your accent on the fly depending on which audience you’re speaking to.’ Wrong. This is like saying it’s pretty weird to dress according to what your plans for the day are.” In John McWhorter’s newsletter for the New York Times.
A bientôt !