Queviures J. Murria

Dear Devon,

Help! Send some tips for photographing buildings. I am trying to build up my own digital library of architectural photographs. I am using a shift lens to get the best images, but it has proven a bit tricky. Perseverance seems to be the only solution.

Queviures J. Murria, a turn of the century gourmet grocery store, has carried on the tradition of providing impeccable service and selling luxury import food products for generations. Walking into one of these impeccably organized shops in the Eixample is like stepping backwards in time: You can almost hear the clomping of horses’ hoofs over the roar of modern automobiles. Colmados, or Queviures (as they are called in proper Catalan), migrated from the historical city in the late 1800’s, following their high profile clientele to the Eixample’s tree-lined streets and spacious, well-lit apartment buildings. Today, workers dressed in light blue smocks chat with clients, advising on purchases and handling orders. Service is friendly, but formal, with many products kept out of the client’s reach, behind the counter. Receipts are hand tallied, and payment is made at a separate cashier’s desk. These grocers aren’t your run of the mill food-sellers, but rank as some of Barcelona’s most respected gourmets and boast some of city’s leading chefs as regular clients.

But, aside from the delicacies inside, it was the exterior facades that first caught my attention. Hand-painted advertisements from the 19th century continue to promote delights from a by-gone era. The collection is anchored by the famous Anis del Mono painting by Barcelona native and modernista phenomenon Ramon Casas, who created a prize-winning poster La Mona y el Mono (the stylish lady and the monkey) for the anis-flavored liquor in 1898. While the Casas design is the most recognizable, I never tire of the fashionably dressed lady, of Marques de Monistrol cava’s advertisement, emerging from the picturesque vineyards of Alt Penedes.

To the unpracticed amateur, photographing this storefront was a challenge. Between cars moving at highway speeds, annoying reflections, and operator errors (of which there were many), it took a solid week of return visits at varying times of day to get acceptable pictures. My unfamiliarity with the shift lens was my biggest challenge. Working with a manual lens mounted on a digital camera, and light meter blind, I was a bit overwhelmed. I completely forgot to focus the lens! Of course, I didn’t realize this until I got home and opened the files. If I was Monet, it would be acceptable, but in today’s digital age of crisp high definition, there is no excuse for blurry images.

After four consecutive days of return visits, the owner thought I was stalking them. So, he came out to talk to me. A Mark Twain-like figure (broad mustache and frizzed hair), Mr. Murria was friendly and enthusiastic to share his knowledge. He confirmed that the advertisements were indeed originals, though some were not original to his storefront.

For now, I will attempt less challenging photographic projects. As for return visits, there have been many, but this time to focus on the cheese.

Fira Lactium: Vic

Dear Devon,

Last November, fresh off of six weeks of intensive Spanish lessons, I tested my new skills at my first Barcelona dinner party. Seated with eight other guests around a large wooden table and a generous dinner of wild mushroom risotto and braised chard, I listened to the excited chatter. The conversations moved quickly and fluidly. I strung together snippets of phrases and pieces of dialogue, my tongue stilled by their effortless chatter.

The conversation shifted to food, specifically cheese. One cheese-loving guest praised a soft, fragrant cheese from the Basque Country in emotional terms, finally pounding his fist on table in excitement and frustration with the gentle teasing of our fellow table companions. I had to interrupt. How often do I run across such an ardent cheese enthusiast? That’s when he told me where to find cheese heaven, otherwise known as the Fira Lactium in Vic, the largest town in the Catalan comarca of Osona. Like Christmas, it comes only once a year in May. I jotted down the details and even made a note in my calendar to remind myself to look for the fair in April. Six months later we were on a train headed north to the Fira Lactium.


Vic was in the full throws of its Saturday market, but the big event of the day was the cheese fair. Vegans and lactose-intolerants be warned: This is glorious dairy indulgence. I was warned to restrain myself to avoid overwhelming my tastebuds. The sour, flowery, rich smell of cheese was everywhere, as were the samples! Producers’ stands lined the street and a temporary eating hall had been erected at the heart of the fair.

When we arrived, the cheese competition was in full swing. Four tables of judges scribbling, sniffing, poking, and eating cheese filled most of the tent. Two sample plates with an assortment of hot and cold cheeses were being sold. Buying both of these meant trying sixteen different cheeses. For our panel of three, these two plates were more than enough. One cheese in particular had our heads spinning. We brought the sample to the front to ask for more details, only to be told that since the competition was still in progress, the name and origin of the cheese could not be revealed. Undeterred, we took our small sample to the each of the thirty-odd cheese stands, hoping the vendor would recognize his cheese. Unfortunately, this didn’t work either: We never did find our mystery cheese, but we boarded the train to Barcelona carrying artisanal yogurts, cheesecake, and of course, cheese.

The real surprise of the excursion was that we bumped into our fist-pounding friend, whom we found tasting the very same cheese from the Basque country that he had praised to us six months earlier.

My Parisian Notebook

Dear Devon,

I have been unforgivably tight-lipped about my recent trip to Paris. The truth is, my recent adventure was an exercise in indulgence and I have spent the past few weeks recuperating. Cheese, museums, food, site-seeing, we did it all, or better yet, we overdid it all.


During my convalescence, I made a list of all the meals and snacks we enjoyed in Paris. There were many standouts, including two evenings at two separate restaurants by chef Christian Constant. His pig’s feet in potatoes, tartare of scallop, oyster, and salmon, and the most heavenly prune clafoutis continue to haunt me. And no visit would be complete without a quick lunch at any one of Eric Kayser’s bakeries. Amazing how a crunchy, properly salted piece of bread transforms an ordinary sandwich into an experience. It is conceivable that one could go to Paris without stopping in at Stroher’s Pâtissier Traiteur on Rue Montorgeuil, but it would be like visiting Paris and not seeing the Eiffel Tour! It’s not your ordinary pastry shop: I saw a French kid suffer an anxiety attack when asked to choose his after school treat. Honestly, I don’t blame him. I turn into last summer’s raspberry jelly every time I enter this shop. Other highlights included late night crepes at L’Avant Comptoir and a plate of simple butter braised wild mushrooms at Chez Paul.


A week in Paris will easily hurt your pocketbook. Once all the foie gras heavy meals and cream laden potatoes were added up, it didn’t leave much room for adventure. To balance our restaurant expenses, we made good use of our Parisian kitchen and the nearby market street of Rue Cler, an absolute gem of a street. Extending from Avenue La Motte Picquet, Rue Cler boasts a fantastic line up of epiceries, charcuteries, restaurants, and boulangeries. In all, we spent three nights roaming this lovely street in search of dinner. We found treasure in the form of wild chanterelles (or girolles in French), huge bulbs of fragrant fennel, and jewel-like red currants right out of a Flemish 16th century painting.

The best feature near Rue Cler is Marie-Anne Cantin’s cheese shop. We visited three times and came away with six ripe, decadent cheeses (many of them raw milk varieties). Her shop is a must for any cheese lover. Knowledgeable, patient, and friendly, Ms. Cantin bustles around her fragrant shop, assisting clients and chefs alike. Before selecting a cheese, she inquires when you plan to eat the cheese, at which point she will poke the cheese to insure that you enjoy your morsel at the height of maturity. Even with her shop tightly closed for the evening, the heady, yeasty smell of cheese emanates from the grates that lead to her on-site aging cave. Rumor has it that Ms. Cantin nurtures the personality of some of her hard cheeses with the assistance of nightly beer baths.



Now, fully rested, I’m eager to get into the kitchen and start experimenting. First on my list is that delectable prune clafoutis. I’ve already purchased a box of silky prunes and now am searching for the perfect vessel to hold my mouthwatering dessert! I definitely agree with Sarkozy, French cuisine belongs on UNESCO cultural heritage list. Vive La France!

Grilled Cheese with Caramelized Onions and Mushrooms

Dear Devon,

Despite my attempts to stay on top of food trends and all things culinary, I have been unforgivably lazy since leaving New York. I half-heartedly blame the time difference and our temperamental internet connection, but in the end, it’s the lack of a proper lunch hour. With more thought, I realized that my do-or-die urge to read the entire NY Times in one 45 minute period has vanished, now that lunch lasts three hours. I am no longer addicted to the food section of the Times or to the twenty or so food blogs I love. So, it was with some excitement that I returned to my old surfing routine and found rejuvenating ideas from old favorites.

I love sandwiches, especially hot pressed ones. When I see a good sandwich idea, I whip out a pad of paper and a pen and quickly copy it down, inspiration for a relaxed Saturday lunch on the roof terrace. And so it was that one random Tuesday morning, I found myself on the Tartine Bakery and Café website, drooling over their delectable pastries and excited by their treasure trove of sandwiches. The grilled cheese with carmelized onions grabbed my attention. I threw on a pair of jeans, pocketed my keys, and ran out the door to the market. I had just finished breakfast, but lunch was already on my mind.


Back in the kitchen, I proudly announced my lunch plans, which led the boy to reschedule his library visit. Tartine’s sandwich does not include fried garlic or mushrooms: That inspiration came from the basket of old mushrooms chilling in the fridge. I really had no idea what I was doing. The garlic fried a bit too fast, the onions got a bit dark, the bread was a three days old, the mushrooms could’ve used a bit more fat, and I forgot to salt. But in the end, it didn’t matter. It was the epitome of an autumnal sandwich: savory and dark, complex flavors of sweet onion and melted cheese, punctuated by pungent, aromatic garlic and juicy mushrooms. The crisply toasted bread made a satisfying crunch with every enthusiastic bite. This should definitely be a $10 sandwich.



I am fantasizing about making this for you and Jeff when I come back to New York. All the elements can be prepared in advance and assembled upon your arrival. Throw the sandwiches into the oven at a low temperature to allow them to crisp up. Serve alongside a hearty butternut squash soup, and you’ll have the perfect autumnal lunch.


Grilled Cheese with Caramelized Onions and Mushrooms
(makes 2 small sandwiches)

Swiss cheese (Emmental)
1/3 cup onions, thinly sliced
5 large button mushrooms, sliced
1 clove garlic, thinly sliced on a bias
4 tbsp butter
4 slices of bread
2 tbsp olive oil

Heat two tablespoons of olive oil in a medium sized skillet. When the oil is nice and hot, gently fry the sliced garlic. After 3 minutes or so, remove the garlic. Be careful not to burn, the edges should be light golden brown and the garlic should remain crisp. Set aside to cool. Turn down the heat and add the sliced onions. Slowly cook for 15 minutes, adding a tablespoon of water, if needed, to prevent the onions from burning. Remove carmelized onions and reserve with fried garlic. Heat 1 tablespoon butter in the skillet, add sliced mushrooms. Cook over low heat until both sides are nicely browned, 7 to 10 minutes.

Using a large serrated knife, cut four slices from a fresh loaf of bread. Spread each side with a generous amount of butter. Lay carmelized onions over two slices, top with garlic slices and mushrooms. Set a generous slice of cheese over onion-mushroom mixture and top with remaining slice of bread. Heat skillet to medium high temperature. Grill sandwiches until the cheese is nicely melted and the bread is golden brown. A bacon press would work very nicely here.

Goat Cheese Souffles

Dear Michelle,

These are not to be lightly dismissed. Like most souffles, they are not without effort to produce, but believe me when I tell you that it is so worth it. They are light, rich, tangy with goat cheese, and crunchy with nuts; both indulgent in flavor and relatively healthy, they are perfect for when you want more than a salad but less than a gratin. Cooked in a water bath, unlike most souffles, they don't rise as high but are more stable, and so can be reheated for lunch or dinner the next day.

I first made these several years ago for a dinner party. I often willfully forget that you're never supposed to make something for the first time when people are coming over, but I've not had a serious mishap yet, and most of my friends are happy enough to have someone else cooking for them that I don't worry about it too much. Nor did I need to, when I made these the first time. Or the next, or the time after that. I wouldn't say they are foolproof, but if you closely follow the directions you will be rewarded. This recipe is out of the 1997 Joy of Cooking, a book which has rarely failed me (the exception that comes to mind is butter cream frosting; Julia Child's poached egg butter cream is the way to go).

My mother is usually happy to let me cook dinner when I offer; this way she doesn't have to worry about it, and usually my parents are pleased with the results. There was that time with the brussels sprouts, but overall they seem to like what I make for them. I knew they would love the goat's cheese souffles, and we've had them several times since the first. My father (a gastronomically indulged man) is always asking why we don't make souffles for him more often (telling him he could make souffles would inevitably lead to disaster), so the promise of these for dinner, and leftovers, will always make him happy.

Goat Cheese Souffles, pg 139 1997 edition Joy of Cooking

This is one of those recipes you'll want to read through more than once before starting, and assemble all ingredients and kitchen equipment you'll need. Trust me, you'll be happy you did. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 350F.

3/4 c walnuts or pecans
1/4-1/2 c softened unsalted butter
1/4 c cornmeal
3 T unsalted butter
1/4 c flour
2/3 c milk
10 oz fresh unripened goat's cheese
5 lg eggs
2 cloves garlic, very finely minced (or 2-3 T shallot)
1/4 t dried thyme (in the summer, I'd use fresh, finely chopped; here, I used herbes de Provence)
1/4 t salt
1/4 t white pepper (I used black, because that's what we had)
1/4 t cream of tartar

Toast nuts. While keeping an eye on these, generously butter 8 6-oz ramekins. I used a pastry brush with the softened butter. Finely chop nuts when cooled, then combine with cornmeal. Roll this mixture around the ramekins until thoroughly coated. Allow some extra to remain on the bottom. The JOC recommends dividing the remaining mixture among the ramekins, but I think that is too much. It is crucial to have the ramekins properly buttered and coated, as this will help the souffle slide up, so don't skimp. Start a kettle of water boiling for the water bath, and make sure you have a baking pan that fits all the ramekins.

If you haven't already chopped the garlic/ shallot, do this now. Divide the eggs; you'll want 5 whites and 4 yolks. Be very careful to avoid contaminating the whites with yolk or oil. I thoroughly clean two smallish bowls with soap and hot water, then wipe them with a paper towel and vinegar to degrease. Get another small bowl, for the yolks. Break and separate an egg (I use my hands to separate, I think it's easiest), putting the yolk into its bowl, then adding the white from the first to the second "whites bowl". This ensures that if the yolk does break, you only loose one white and not all of them. I know this sounds incredibly OCD, but if your whites are contaminated, they will not whip properly, and you'll have to start over again. It's worth washing and preparing the whisk/beaters and mixing bowl that you will be using at this time as well.

Warm milk. Melt 3T butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Stir in flour until smooth, continuing to cook, stirring, for 1 minute additionally. Remove from heat and stir in milk (slowly, or it will clump; I use a whisk, but if you do this, stir, do not aerate with it). Return to heat and bring to a boil, stirring briskly, until very thick (see below photo).

Scrape into bowl, then add goat cheese and mash till cheese is melted. Add in: 4 egg yolks, garlic or shallot, herbs, salt and pepper.

Beat whites until stiff but not dry, adding cream of tartar once they begin to foam.

Stir 1/4 of whites into souffle base to lighten it, then fold in the rest. It should not be combined all the way; there will be some small bits of just white visible.

Spoon into ramekins and place them into pan; add hot water till about 3/4 of the way up the sides. Bake until a skewer inserted into the middle comes out clean, about 30 minutes. The tops will be slightly golden. Do not open the oven door to look until at least half the cooking time has passed. Let stand in water bath for 15 minutes, then invert onto salad or plate. Can also be served flipped the other way around.

We ate them with pear and green salad, and slices of baguette brushed with the leftover ramekin butter and crisped in the oven.

Good eaten after reheating in the oven the next couple of days.

Fig and Cheese Pizza

Hi Devon,

Eating the contents of your fridge is a daunting and unpleasant task. First, what do you do with your billion jars of condiments: mayo, hot sauces, relishes, jams, hoisin sauce, curries, and mustards? Then, how do you turn the contents of the fridge into a dish, let alone an entire meal? The fridge, a stronghold for all leftovers, frigid life-giver, perpetually extends the stay of leftovers, preservative-filled condiments, dairy products, and fruits. What happens when all this food must be consumed within a short period of time?

My fridge contains the ingredients to cook an array of international dishes. In one week, it will hold green onions, plums, squash, bok choy, milk, rhubarb, cucumbers, and miso paste. The variety challenges my inventiveness and skill, especially towards the end of the week. I am mindful of its contents, and spend the majority of my commute musing on the numerous possibilities.

Tomorrow, our apartment will be blessed with a new fridge, three inches taller, two inches wider, and one inch deeper than our current one. The difference in size seems minuscule, but the novelty of a new appliance has overshadowed the inconvenience of emptying the ice box. I was amazed how quickly fridge raiding went from exciting to strangely chore-like. Tucked in the back, containers of expired yogurt and boxes of leftover your-guess-is-as-good-as-mine went directly into the trash. Half empty / half full jars of mustard, the ones you keep buying because you can never find them, appear like a broad shouldered army ranked by flavor: Dijon, honey, Jack Daniels (!?), spicy, and standard yellow. With the exception of mayonnaise, most sealed jars will survive a few hours on the counter, especially on a crisp autumn night.



The main concern was perishable items, mainly cheese and fruit. I probably spend half my paycheck on cheese, so throwing it out was not an option. I pulled out a box of figs and some olive pita and made an impromptu pizza. A carton of Ben and Jerry's ice cream was dessert.

Olives, figs, and cheese are a natural and glorious combination. Bake until the cheese is melted and the figs are warmed through. Next time, I'm planning on adding proscuitto. I don't think it gets easier or more delicious than this. If I started a tapas bar, I could charge $12 for this (but don't tell anyone, it'll ruin the mystique).


Now the fridge is empty. But don't worry, it will soon fill up!

Fig and Cheese Pizza

Olive flatbread / pita bread
Cheese, I used a French cow's milk cheese called Tomme Noire (aged at least 21 days)
Handful of quartered figs
Salt
Black pepper

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with foil.

Place pita bread on foil. Top with slices of cheese, a salty cheese will work best here, and quartered figs. Finish with a liberal sprinkling of salt. Bake in the oven until the cheese is melted, 8 minutes. Sprinkle with freshly ground black pepper. Cut into wedges and serve warm.

Fridge off. What's for dinner?
Michelle