{"id":6063,"date":"2014-07-15T21:18:42","date_gmt":"2014-07-16T01:18:42","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.katrinakenison.com\/?p=6063"},"modified":"2014-07-15T21:18:42","modified_gmt":"2014-07-16T01:18:42","slug":"buvette-food-love-cookbook-give-away","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/katrinakenison.com\/new\/buvette-food-love-cookbook-give-away\/","title":{"rendered":"Buvette–food to love & a cookbook to win"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"photo\"S<\/span>ummer, thirty-five years ago. I was nineteen — ripe for adventure, ready to be inspired, in love for the first time, and headed for Paris.<\/p>\n

My boyfriend (of whom my parents quietly, firmly disapproved) and I had worked and saved for a year to come up with $4,000 — enough, we hoped, to get us overseas, pay for a cheap used car and fund a summer of low-budget travel. I had my first passport, a few semesters of college French under my belt and a head still swimming with a thousand carefully memorized Art 100 slides.<\/p>\n

For months, my more practical (but no more worldly) companion had studied the Michelin green guides and pored over road maps, planning possible routes across the continent.<\/p>\n

My own self-assigned homework was less useful but considerably more titillating. Ernest Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, A. J. Liebling, Henry Miller, Colette, M.F.K Fisher were\u00a0my<\/em>\u00a0tour guides, and their descriptions of all things French– from oysters on the shell\u00a0to sex to the light in the sky at dusk —\u00a0had filled me with hunger and anticipation.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019d read everything. Experienced nothing.<\/p>\n

\"KKF<\/span>or a small-town girl from New Hampshire, Paris was a coming-of-age story, an irresistible invitation to leave my old unformed self behind and become someone altogether new \u2013 a person who broke bread instead of sliced it, who carried a cheese knife in her backpack, scribbled in a journal at sidewalk cafes, drank diminutive cups of espresso at dusk and pitchers of vin de table<\/em> in the Latin Quarter by night. (Why I didn’t peel off\u00a0those ankle socks along the way, I can’t say.)<\/p>\n

Serious young Smith student that I was, I dutifully stood in front of the Mona Lisa, listened to organ music at Notre Dame, perused the book stalls along the Seine, visited the graves at Monmartre. We admired the view from the Eiffel Tower and wore our shoes out walking through one\u00a0arrondissement after another, from the heart of the city to its outer edges.<\/p>\n

But really, all I wanted to do was eat.<\/p>\n

Our wallets constrained us, yet\u00a0we barely registered deprivation.\u00a0Every flaky croissant, every fragrant bowl of onion soup or round of goat cheese wrapped in a grape leaf and tied with twine was a delight for the eye and palate. Couscous was a revelation, caf\u00e9 au lait a good reason to get out of bed in the morning. The night we wandered into a tiny bistro on the Left Bank and discovered the phrase moules- frites <\/em>was life-changing.<\/p>\n

The boyfriend didn\u2019t last, but my love for all foods French has never waned. I left home that summer before my senior year of college having never cooked much more than baked potatoes and my mom\u2019s beef stroganoff. By the time I returned three months later, I was as passionate about learning how to cook the foods I\u2019d discovered as I was about eating them. Travel to foreign lands was wonderful adventure to be sure, but it now occurred to me that perhaps I could create my own adventures, right in the kitchen. Cooking well, it seemed to me, might actually be a way to live a more sensual, thoughtful life.<\/p>\n

That long-ago summer was the beginning of a lifetime of experimenting, learning, savoring.\u00a0\u00a0 Over the years, I\u2019ve tried my hand at hundreds of dishes and collected way too many cookbooks. What I\u2019ve found is that neither the hunger nor the curiosity ever goes away. There\u2019s always a new restaurant to visit, a new dish to try, a new challenge to try to recreate at home.<\/p>\n

So when a food-loving friend told me about Buvette<\/strong><\/a>, a tiny bistro in New York with a decidedly Gallic twist, I couldn\u2019t wait to go. \u00a0(Yes, I was charmed by the bike before we even walked through the door.)<\/p>\n

\"BuvetteP<\/span>erched at a tiny table, elbow to elbow with fellow diners, dipping a hunk of baguette into a bowl of mussels Provencal and drinking wine out of a small water glass, the years melted away. The West Village neighborhood crowd is young and casual, the bar is packed, the mood convivial. People come to Buvette to cheerfully rub shoulders with one another and to eat food that tastes as if it were made by your best foodie friend rather than by a chef paid to impress.<\/p>\n

Now, Jody Williams\u00a0has brought the spirit of Buvette<\/strong> to the page in a new cookbook<\/strong><\/a> inspired by her beloved restaurant and devoted to \u201cthe pleasure of good food.\u201d Here is simple, handmade, straightforward French comfort food that\u2019s as satisfying to prepare as it is to eat. No architectural concoctions topped with obscure sauces here. No exotic ingredients or complicated presentations. Instead, Jody\u2019s beautiful, do-able, casual-but-polished recipes re-ignite my own passion for fresh ingredients and thoughtful dishes made with care.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t get to New York often, but if I did, Buvette<\/strong> would be my go-to spot for a morning coffee or an unhurried dinner with friends. So, it\u2019s probably not surprising that Buvette<\/strong> has also turned out to be the cookbook I find myself pulling off the shelf most often this summer.\u00a0 (Summer fruit salad, yogurt parfaits, tomato salad with cucumbers and bread, soupe au pistou, old fashioned lemonade, wax beans with pesto. . .intuitive dishes all, but ones I’m happy to be reminded to make.)<\/p>\n

\"BuvetteA<\/span> few weeks ago, I gave a copy of Buvette<\/strong><\/a> to the friend who\u2019d first tipped me off to the restaurant. Hours later, a photo arrived: shaved Brussels sprout salad. \u201cI was inspired,\u201d he texted.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s the kind of cookbook this is: you page through, feel a little twinge of hunger as you pore over the photos of fresh figs and cheeses and hearty soups, and then you get up and head for the kitchen, to see what you have on hand. And you realize that even a bunch of radishes from the farmers\u2019 market can stand on their own, and are worthy of a bit of loving care as you bring them to the table.<\/p>\n

\"photoA<\/span>s Jody says, \u201cBuvette<\/strong> is more than a place; it\u2019s also a feeling and an idea. It\u2019s a way to cook, entertain, and live. It\u2019s a recipe for living more meaningfully.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve made Jody\u2019s Asparagus Milanese<\/strong> once a week for about a month. And every time, I\u2019ve forgotten to snap a photo before I spooned it out of the pan. Last night was no exception. But I did remember to grab my camera just before the grilled figs and goat cheese disappeared.
\n\"FigsI<\/span> have one copy of Buvette to give away here, and I\u2019m delighted to spread the word about this lovely cookbook. \u00a0(Looks as if I’m not alone. The New York Times has just published a rave review<\/strong><\/a>, too — they couldn’t resist those brussels sprouts either.)<\/p>\n

\n

how to enter to win a copy of Buvette<\/span><\/h3>\n

Simply\u00a0leave a comment<\/strong> below.<\/p>\n

Answer the question:<\/strong><\/p>\n

What are you putting on your summer dinner table these days?<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

Of course, as always, you can also just say: \u201cCount me in.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019ll choose a winner<\/strong> at random after midnight on Saturday, July 26<\/strong>. Good luck to all.<\/p>\n

(Just want to start cooking? \u00a0You can order a copy here.<\/strong><\/a>)<\/p>\n

See you at the farmer\u2019s market!<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

Buvette’s Asparagus Milanese<\/span><\/h3>\n<\/blockquote>\n

(serves two, but is easily doubled)<\/p>\n

Coarse salt<\/em><\/p>\n

Small handful of asparagus, tough ends removed<\/em><\/p>\n

2 T. unsalted butter<\/em><\/p>\n

2 \u00a0good-quality large eggs<\/em><\/p>\n

Freshly ground black pepper<\/em><\/p>\n

Finely grated Parmesan cheese<\/em><\/p>\n

Bring a small pot of water to boil, season with salt, add the asparagus and cook until just tender, about 2 minutes. \u00a0Drain immediately and transfer to paper towels and let dry for a minute or so.<\/p>\n

Heat the butter in a skillet over medium heat. \u00a0Add the asparagus to the butter, with the spears together in the center of the pan. \u00a0Crack the eggs directly into the pan at the edges of the asparagus, sprinkle with a bit of salt, cover and cook until the whites are just set, about two minutes. \u00a0Sprinkle with a generous dusting of Parmesan cheese and a few healthy grinds of black pepper. \u00a0(I like a bit of chopped parsley, too.)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summer, thirty-five years ago. I was nineteen — ripe for adventure, ready to be inspired, in love for the first time, and headed for Paris. My boyfriend (of whom my parents quietly, firmly disapproved) and I had worked and saved for a year to come up with $4,000 — enough, we hoped, to get us […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":15183,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[18,5,13],"tags":[108,138,329],"class_list":{"0":"post-6063","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-at-the-table","8":"category-hearth-home","9":"category-recipes","10":"tag-buvette","11":"tag-cooking","12":"tag-paris","13":"entry"},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/katrinakenison.com\/new\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/10\/600x600.png?fit=600%2C600","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/katrinakenison.com\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6063","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/katrinakenison.com\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/katrinakenison.com\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/katrinakenison.com\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/katrinakenison.com\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6063"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/katrinakenison.com\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6063\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/katrinakenison.com\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/15183"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/katrinakenison.com\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6063"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/katrinakenison.com\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6063"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/katrinakenison.com\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6063"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}