serious sweets: sucre

Remember when I drifted off into a sugar trance a few weeks ago, all gaga over macarons?  I've been thinking about them ever since--looking up YouTube videos on how to make them (it's a little more complicated than I was wanting it to be), scouring the Web for recipes (like David Lebovitz's chocolate macarons or this extremely intriguing flavor from Tartelette), and just spending all my regularly allotted daydream minutes on them.  So when I just happened to find myself on Magazine Street last Monday, driving through a light summer shower with Paul, I couldn't think of a better place to stretch our legs and spend some money than at Sucre.




I've been seeing Sucre's macarons (and their awesome chocolates) praised in national and local food magazines and on Web sites for the past two years.  Like I've said before, I'm not really that big a fan of sweets, but I will spend money on them, and devour them, when they're particularly time-consuming and/or "uh-licious."  That's what my grandmother used to call something that tasted too wonderful to describe: uh-licious.

I love the emphasis they put on using high-quality ingredients:



The texture of Sucre's macarons is so interesting and delicate, from the glossy outer layer that crackles ever-so-slightly when you bite into it, to the slightly chewy inner cookie, to the very soft and light filling holding the two cookies together.  I've sampled nearly all the flavors now, and I still think that lemon is my favorite.  It's like the most elegant and elusive lemon bar possible.

And Sucre's chocolates are a thing of mystery and beauty...I've never tasted any chocolates as serious as these, and I've certainly never seen any decorated more artfully.  Some look like marbles, some like mandalas.  I doubt that any are less than fantastic--I mean less than uh-licious.

Kalamansi:  dark chocolate ganache with Indonesian lime coated in dark chocolate

Avery:  caramel milk chocolate ganache coated in dark chocolate and topped with sea salt

I can't imagine a more perfect shopping spot for birthdays, anniversaries, or mother's day.  It just doesn't get any specialer than this.

serious sweets: sucre

high standards, surpassed expectations, and getting a little awesome

I was talking to my friend Chana the other day about dining in New Orleans, and we have the same philosophy:

1. If you charge $5 for something, it doesn't have to be fantastic. Kudos to you if it is fantastic. 

2. If you charge $40 or $50 for something, it better be awesome. It better not be something that I can taste and say, "You know, I think I could make this better." 

We're just trying to get the best dollar-to-awesomeness ratio that we can, and in a city where the prices can be as high as diners' expectations of the food, that's important.

We went to August the other day for a celebratory family lunch (see #2, above). I've only been to one other John Besh restaurant, Luke, but I've been there a few times and enjoyed it. The food at Luke is not fine dining, but it's quality. August is in a different league of dining experiences, along with places like Stella!, Herbsaint, and Bayona, where you arrive expecting a fantastically prepared meal and usually leave shaking your head in disbelief of how good it truly was (see #2, above, again).

They served an amuse bouche of a fish fumet over a savory custard, topped with caviar, in an eggshell, with a brioche crouton.  I should just tell you right now, things are only going to get better here, so go ahead and laugh, or curse, or book your flight to New Orleans, or whatever you gotta do to get through it.  

Kathy's salad:  artichoke hearts, pretty greens, crawfish tails (I forgot to get a menu, so the exact descriptions of dishes are missing--oops!).  The crawfish are kind of camouflaged/hiding under the leaves, like they're in a natural habitat...it does look a little like a terrarium, doesn't it?

My appetizer: potato gnocchi with blue crab and Perigold truffle. It was hard to decide what to order, of course, but I rarely turn down gnocchi--especially when crab and truffles are involved. The sauce was light and buttery, and the truffle was just enough to scent the crab, so its delicate flavor came through. They look ginormous in the photo, but I was just in really really close.

John Besh arrived at the restaurant during our lunch to do some filming for one of his new television shows.  Of course, we blushed and asked if we could meet him.  He graciously stopped by our table and chatted (and posed), right as the main courses were coming out.  I was still a bit giddy when the server was explaining my dish to me, so I have more impression than fact to tell you about it--and we have no photos!  But that's okay, right?  It was a bass fillet.  Crispy skin.  I honestly don't remember what the pureed sauce underneath was.  It had a vegetable-ness to it, a little legume-ish.  I remember cardoons in the menu description.  There was roasted red pepper in the "relish," and other than that, I can only say there was a combination of herbs and flavors that were coming from some unidentified, invisible source.  I kept thinking that I would figure it out by the time I finished it, but it actually got more elusive with each bite. I like this kind of tasting, this shock that happens when food is expertly prepared.  It keeps your mind active and a little drugged at the same time.


I recommend, wholeheartedly and pounding my fist on the table, that you order the "breaded" speckled trout (again, no photo--sorry!).  At least one person in your party should order it and let everyone taste it.  It's too good to describe in words, but I'll try.  It's like they build a rich, buttery cracker from scratch and lay the trout on it.  Then bake it or roast it--who knows these things?--and the cooking crisps those cracker ingredients into a crunchy, toasty, ever-so-sweet-with-butter anchor for the fish and its toppings.  What are the toppings?  Oh, just some lump crabmeat and hollandaise.  You know.  Just the tastiest stuff on the planet.  When I think of how this tasted, I shake my head "no," like I do when things are getting a little awesome--like a winning touchdown, or a second line parade of Elvises.    

My dessert:  chocolate crepes filled with ricotta, blackberry sauce, bitter chocolate ice cream.  I was torn between the strawberry ravioli and the crepes, but our waiter suggested the crepes.  The ricotta was sweet and fluffy, and I think some blackberry puree was mixed into it.  The ice cream was really dense--almost chewy with chocolate.  Is that possible?  And not very sweet, which I like.

Martha's dessert: a collection of local cheeses, with accompaniments of house-made apple jelly, fig preserves, and other things I don't remember.  They were served with super-thin rosemary crisps, which provided a nice salty counter to the sweet and rich cheese.  We sampled a couple of these pairings, and they were spot on.

The macaroons and salted toffee were endments--final treats from the kitchen.  The macaroons:  imagine being a little girl attracted to all foodstuffs pink: strawberry-iced doughnuts, Hostess sno-balls with the pink coconut, Dolly Madison raspberry zingers.  My favorite treat, when I was eight-ish, was raspberry zingers.  They were so pretty, with their velvety pink coats and feathery coconut, and they smelled rich and fruity.  They tasted of more than raspberry, too--a little vanilla, a little coconut, a little whipped cream-like something...satisfyingly ladylike.  The macaroons!  They looked like tiny hamburgers (a little disc of chocolate peeked out from some of them), but they tasted just like pink.  They tasted so, so pink.  I felt like Marie Antoinette.

So I'm sure you've sensed this coming, but I sincerely recommend visiting August whenever you can.  Build a whole vacation around it--you won't be sorry.  Or go for their prix-fixe lunch: 3 courses for $20.

high standards, surpassed expectations, and getting a little awesome

mexican chocolate & french vanilla: an arranged marriage

I don't make desserts nearly as often as I used to, but when I do, I like to go for what works best. And to honor the romantic side of the melting pot that is New Orleans, I decided to spruce up my old standby of brownie + vanilla ice cream with a little tender loving specialness: instead of just purchasing brownies and ice cream, I would make my own! From scratch! I would use the forlorn ice cream making machine and celebrate the day I acquired it in the best possible way...with vanilla!










I like the way my selection of bowls creates a striking visual irony.



















Hooray for huge blurry photos of dessert!!!

Make your favorite batch of brownies, but add about a 1/2 teaspoon of cinammon. This makes them "Mexican Chocolate Brownies" in the most simply but satisfying way--just a little something different, interesting, titillating. If you don't have a favorite recipe, use the one at the bottom of this post--it's my favorite. Then, buy the fanciest French vanilla ice cream you can afford, or if you want to get real crafty, make your own. Put a warm brownie in the bottom of a bowl, top with vanilla ice cream, and use a real small spoon so you get to enjoy more bites. It's the best stuff ever.

Making ice cream from scratch is a great way to learn patience and tempering (tempering means making something that's cold less cold so it won't cause a reaction that you don't want). You have to move rather slowly while you mix the hot cream into the eggs and then the eggs back into the hot cream; if you go too fast, you'll end up with a version of scrambled eggs that you probably wouldn't serve to an alligator. Then, you have to wait while the ice cream hardens further in the freezer, after you take it out of the machine. But it's all worth it. If you have the means to borrow or procure a machine, I say, do it. Here's my little pal:



















He reminds me of a Macintosh computer circa 1988. I really love him and I promise to take him on more dates. :)

Mexican Chocolate Brownies (adapted from "Mocha-Chip Brownies" in The Brown Bag Lunch by Susan Epstein, a surprisingly wonderful little book)

• 1 stick butter
• 2 oz. unsweetened chocolate
• 3/4 c. sugar
• 1 t. baking powder
• 1/4 t. salt
• 1/4 t. ground cinnamon
• 1 2/3 c. all-purpose flour
• 2 eggs
• 1/2 c. semi-sweet chocolate chips (or white chocolate chips)

1. Preheat oven to 350.
2. Melt butter and chocolate together in a small saucepan or in the microwave; let cool slightly.
3. Combine sugar, baking powder, salt, ground cinnamon, flour, and eggs together in a medium-sized mixing bowl.
4. Add butter/chocolate mixture and stir to mix well. Stir in chocolate chips.
5. Spread batter in greased 8"-square baking pan. Bake for about 25 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in center comes out with just a few fudgy crumbs. Cool on a wire rack.
6. Cut into 12 mean brownies, 9 happy brownies, or 6 jubilant brownies.

French Vanilla Ice Cream (adapted from The Best Ice-Cream Maker Cookbook Ever by Peggy Fallon)

• 4 egg yolks
• 3 cups heavy cream
• 1 cup milk
• 1/2 sugar
• pinch salt (important addition!)
• 1 Tablespoon vanilla extract

1. Set egg yolks in a medium bowl to come to room temperature or somewhere near that.
2. Heat cream, milk, sugar, and salt in a medium, heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium heat, stirring to dissolve the sugar (about 8 minutes).
3. Turn off heat while you do this part. Put 1 cup of the hot cream mixture in a measuring cup with a handle and a pouring spout. Slowly pout the hot cream into the eggs in a thin stream while you constantly whisk. If you have someone help you do this part, it'll be more fun. You've just "tempered" the eggs.
4. Turn the heat back on under the pot of cream to medium. Slowly pour in the eggs, whisking constantly. Now, heat the cream, stirring, until it's 160 degrees on an instant-read thermometer. To check this, I hold the thermometer so the pointy end is in the middle of the liquid. Don't touch it to the inside bottom of the pot, because that's the hottest part, so it won't give you an accurate reading.
5. Transfer the mixture to a heatproof bowl to cool at room temperature for about 30 minutes. Stir in the vanilla extract.
6. If you have a new-fangled ice-cream maker that uses a bowl filled with supercoolant, you can put the cream mixture right in there & start it churning. If you have a maker that uses ice and salt, you'll want to chill the mixture in the fridge for several hours first, to make the freezing process go faster later on. Either way, follow your manufacturer's directions and then pack the ice cream in a freezer-safe container to finish hardening.

Makes about 2 quarts.

mexican chocolate & french vanilla: an arranged marriage