Last night, as a belated birthday dinner, I was treated to the towering fruit de mer “platter” at Balthazar. Also available in a smaller size (Le Grand, $58), Le Balthazar ($99) is a feast for two, generous snacking for four, and a towering, three-tiered spectacle for your neighboring diners to ogle. It is so big, in fact, that you must rise from your seat to reach for the lobster claws and shrimp on the top tier.

Here is a rundown of the goods:

Top tier: two lobster claws; one lobster tail, split; 6 shrimp; about 4 mussels

Middle tier: more mussels and shrimp; six crab legs; seafood salad (do not overlook this! It is a mix of calamari and shrimp mixed with chopped onions, herbs, and a bit of citrus–totally delicious)

Bottom tier: a dozen oysters; a dozen clams; a handful of mussels

All this is accessorized with lemon wedges, cocktail and mignonette sauces, spicy mayonnaise, and four bowls per person (don’t scoff–you’ll need them) for discarding shells and such. Throw in a bottle of champagne, and you’re all set.

Balthazar
80 Spring Street
212.965.1414

Venerable British institution Fortnum & Mason, long known for their teas, biscuits, and “hampers” (essentially chic gift/picnic baskets), has finally made its goods available for order in the U.S. In perusing their new website, I found so many special, poetically-named condiments and foodstuffs (Strawberry Preserve with Champagne! Welsh Heather Honey!) it was difficult to avoid ordering every last piece. In the end, I decided on Scottish Golden Raspberry and Banana Preserves; I’m dying for the Clotted Cream Biscuits, but when I placed my order they were out of stock. Try the banana preserves spooned over a high-quality vanilla or dark chocolate ice cream; the golden raspberry tastes almost like honey, and is perfect on toast.

Of course, all of these treats would be amazing gifts, but it’s hard not to get greedy in the face of such temptation. If you find something amazing for yourself, be sure to let me know about it!

Pizzelles, Italian waffle cookies made in a special iron, are so much more than crisp, lacy nibbles.  Although they’re delicious on their own, dusted with a bit of powdered sugar, try sandwiching two together with a layer of Nutella or jam (or both?).  You could also increase the lemon zest in the recipe below and stick them together with a filling of lemon curd, or lemon-laced pastry cream.  I like to roll them, still warm from the iron, into the shape of an ice cream cone and serve filled with gelato (Martha Stewart trick:  put a mini marshmallow in the bottom of the cone before adding gelato to prevent drips). 

Although it’s annoying to buy and store an appliance that only does one job, there are so many ways to reinvent the pizzelle that I think it’s worth it to invest in an iron.  Check out Amazon or eBay for deals.

Basic Pizzelle Batter:

• 1 stick (8 tb) unsalted butter, softened
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 tsp lemon zest
• 2 tsp vanilla extract
• 1 3/4 cup flour
• 2 tsp baking powder
• 2/3 cup milk
• Pizzelle iron

Plug in pizzelle iron and let heat up.  In a medium bowl, rub the lemon zest into the sugar until well-blended and lemony-smelling.  In another bowl, whisk together flour and baking powder.  In the bowl of a standing mixer, on medium speed, cream the butter and lemon-scented sugar.  Add vanilla and the eggs one at a time, beating well between each.  Reduce mixer speed to low and add flour in three parts, alternating with milk.  The batter will be thin.

Drop one tablespoon of batter onto each cookie spot on the iron.  Close the iron and cook until the indicator light tells you they are done.  Remove to a plate.  Repeat until batter is gone.

When all cookies are done, proceed to accessorize:  dust with confectioner’s sugar, sandwich with a spread, etc.  Or, if you’d like to make cones, simply roll each cookie into shape as soon as it is removed from iron.

Makes about 30 cookies.

I consider weekends to be prime dessert-eating time, and, as more often than not I find myself below Houston Street, I have done my share of due diligence on the downtown bakery scene.  And so, after too many calories, frosting smudges, and crumb clumps to count, here are my unequivocal favorites:

1. Billy’s Bakery  You can’t go wrong ordering their classic yellow cupcake with vanilla frosting.  The frosting-to-cake ratio is spot-on, and, unlike competitors’, the cake itself is very fresh.
2. Magnolia Bakery  Although I do like their cupcakes, if you’re going to wait in that insane line, you might as well go for broke, calorie-wise, and get the banana pudding.  Perfectly-saturated cookies layered with fresh banana slices and rich vanilla pudding:  OMG.
3. Balthazar Bakery  The flaky, fluffy almond croissant is a real treat, and the doughnut is simply perfect, cakey inside and covered in cinnamon-sugar (and only $1!).
4. Bouley Bakery  There are these ladylike, bite-sized green cakes in the window with a dark cherry on top.  I’m not sure what they are called, but they taste like heaven–sweet, slightly pistachio-y, and very soft.
5. The Doughnut Plant  My standby is the Valrhona chocolate cake doughnut, but they also have seasonal flavors, like chestnut, that are amazing and worth a special trip.

What are your favorites?

I’ve all but given up American-style yogurt; I now favor the thick, tangy Greek variety that is finally available in most supermarkets. It’s largely, but not solely, a taste issue: plain Greek yogurt not only has a more assertive flavor that melds well with fruit, granola, honey, and any number of other accessories, but it lacks the high sugar content, gelatin, and other additives commonly found in typical grocery store brands. Its bewitching texture comes from straining excess water from the mass, leaving a more intense flavor and a consistency similar to cream cheese.

While lovely eaten on its own, what really excites me is using the yogurt in baking, substituting it for cream cheese, sour cream, milk, and buttermilk (it also makes a creamy sauce that is an amazing accompaniment to a variety of meats). For these cupcakes, I began with a basic yellow cake recipe from my old standby, the Gourmet cookbook. I substituted Greek yogurt, in this case, full-fat Fage, for the stipulated sour cream in the cake batter. Although Fage is quite heavy, the resulting cakes were insanely light and fluffy, as if i had folded in beaten egg whites, as in this white cake recipe. For the frosting, I used Fage as if it were cream cheese, and added a bit of lemon juice to heighten the tartness. Together, these produce compulsively edible little cakes, sweet with just a hint of tart.

Fluffy Yogurt Cake (adapted from Gourmet’s Golden Cake)

• 3 1/2 cups cake flour
• 1 tb baking powder
• 3/4 tsp baking soda
• 1 tsp salt
• 2 sticks (16 tb) unsalted butter, softened
• 2 cups sugar
• 4 large eggs, room temperature
• 2 tsp vanilla extract
• 2 cups Greek yogurt, such as Fage

Yogurt Frosting

• 1 stick (8 tb) unsalted butter, softened
• 1 cup Greek yogurt
• 4 cups confectioner’s sugar
• 1 tsp fresh lemon juice

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease 2 muffin tins.

Make cake: sift together first four ingredients into a medium-sized bowl; set aside. In the bowl of a standing mixer, cream butter and sugar on medium-high speed until fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each, then vanilla. Reduce speed to low and mix in half of the flour mixture just until combined, then the yogurt, and end with the rest of the flour mixture. Do not overmix. Pour batter into cupcake tins and bake for about 25 minutes, or until golden and inserted cake tester comes out clean. Let cool in tins for 10 minutes, then remove to baking rack to cool completely.

Make frosting: in the bowl of a standing mixer, beat yogurt and butter on medium speed until well-combined, 1 to 2 minutes; add lemon juice. Mix in confectioner’s sugar, 1/2 cup or so at a time, beating between additions to ensure smoothness.

When cakes are completely cool, spread each with 2 to 3 tablespoons’ worth of frosting.

Makes about 30 cupcakes, or 2 9-inch layers.

There are few things more quintessentially French than the soufflé. So, when in Paris…eat lots of them! You will find this particularly easy if you make a dinner reservation at Le Soufflé, a cozy, unpretentious nook on a tiny street in the first arrondissement. This is a feast for the eyes as well as the stomach; one gets the sense that the waiters enjoy parading past carrying soufflé after puffy soufflé, incorporating an element of performance into grandly delivering and preparing the dishes at the table.

Although they offer plenty of non-soufflé items à la carte, you are really missing out if you don’t order from the prix-fixe, three-course soufflé menu (also a real bargain, at 30 euros). As an appetizer, you can’t go wrong with a classic cheese soufflé, but I would recommend the white asparagus version: pale, delicate, and rushed from the oven to the table. With typical stoicism, the waiter unceremoniously jabs a spoon into its center, creating a crevasse into which he pours a rich and creamy sauce that both melds with and calls attention to the delicate flavor of the asparagus.

Before the main course arrives, a perfectly dressed, leafy green salad appears on the table, cleansing the palate and breaking up the potential monotony of two consecutive savory soufflés. The morille main soufflé is earthy and distinctly mushroom-y, yet remains astonishingly light. Also rewarding is the soufflé of jambon et fromage; so French, and unequivocally delicious.

Of course, the most important part of the meal is dessert, and the kitchen sends out some impressive confections. The Grand Marnier soufflé is so much fun to receive: again, after setting it down, the waiter jabs holes in it, then douses it with more of the liqueur. It arrives so perfectly puffed and golden, it almost seems like a shame to touch it. That sentiment is easily overcome when you taste it. Similarly, the dark chocolate version is accompanied by a white chocolate sauce, while the cafe flavor is simply dusted with powdered sugar. Perhaps the most impressive of the lot, though, is the raspberry soufflé: who wouldn’t be over the moon to tuck into a towering, hot pink, sweet-tart dessert?

Don’t come to Le Soufflé expecting the super-glamorous, dimly-lit, sexy Parisian restaurant experience; its charm is in the absence of all that. The unassuming facade, bright (read: rather unflattering) lighting, and paintings of soufflés adorning the walls belie the treasures at the table. This is a place for enjoying the warm atmosphere, the pleasure of the other diners (many of them locals), and sharing wine and soufflés with friends.

Le Soufflé

36 rue Mont Thabor
75001 Paris

+33 01 42 60 27 19

http://lesouffle.fr/

My s’mores tart incorporates the primary elements of the classic dessert (graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows), but this is no messy, eat-with-your-hands treat. The chocolate acquires a melted consistency in the form of a part-ganache, part-pudding filling that is poured into a graham cracker crust. Marshmallow-y meringue is piped on top, then briefly toasted under the broiler. A slice of this low, elegant tart is creamy, crunchy, and toasty, transporting your taste buds to childhood campfires.

Crust (adapted from Gourmet cookbook)

• 1 1/4 cup graham cracker crumbs
• 3 tb brown sugar
• 4 tb melted butter

Filling

• 8 ounces semi-sweet chocolate,* finely chopped
• 1 cup whole milk
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

1/2 recipe Meringue Frosting (below)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Make crust: in a medium bowl, stir together crumbs, sugar, and melted butter with a fork, until all ingredients are well-incorporated and mixture resembles wet sand. Using the back of a spoon, press evenly into the bottom and up the sides of a 9-inch tart pan (it will be delicate). Place pan on baking sheet, and bake for 8 minutes, then cool completely.

Make filling: heap the chopped chocolate into a medium bowl. In a saucepan over a medium flame, heat the milk until steaming; pour into bowl over chocolate. Whisk until all chocolate is melted into milk, then whisk in vanilla; let cool completely.

Make meringue: set a saucepan of water on the stove to simmer. In a large bowl, beat together egg whites, sugar, corn syrup, water, cream of tartar, and salt using a handheld mixer. Set the bowl onto the pan of simmering water, and beat egg mixture at high speed until it holds stiff, glossy peaks, 5 to 7 minutes (go for a little longer than you think is necessary). Remove bowl from heat and transfer to the bowl of the standing mixer; add vanilla and beat on high another 6 to 8 minutes, until very thick.

Assemble tart: pour chocolate into shell. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes, or until firm. Preheat the oven’s broiler. Spoon the meringue into a pastry bag fitted with a #21 star tip, and, using small squeezes, pipe little blobs of meringue onto filling’s surface, covering it completely. Put tart on baking sheet and ease under broiler; cook for 30 seconds to 1 minute, or until tips of meringue are nicely browned. Carefully remove tart pan from baking sheet and put back in refrigerator for another 30 minutes or so, allowing the chocolate filling to reset. To serve, carefully remove tart pan, and slice with a very sharp knife.

While you could certainly serve this tart cold, I happen to think it’s perfect at room temperature; the filling holds its shape but is soft, and melds so well with the gooey, carmelized meringue.

Meringue Frosting (from January 2008 Gourmet)

• 3 large egg whites, room temperature
• 2 1/4 cups sugar
• 3/4 cup water
• 1 1/2 tb light corn syrup
• 1/2 tsp cream of tartar
• 1/8 tsp salt
• 1 tsp vanilla extract

*Feel free to experiment with different types of chocolate in the filling; substituting a bit of milk chocolate, for example, would add a subtle difference to the flavor.

For better or for worse, the majority of Paris is closed on Sundays. The downside is that the dining and shopping options are dramatically diminished; however, if you play your cards right, you can still have an excellent day, and not waste a moment of Paris-time.

The Marais, near the Pompidou Center, is one of the few areas in which most vendors stay open on Sundays. This offers the opportunity to have the ridiculous brunch at Les Philosophes, a restaurant on a beautiful stretch of rue Vieille du Temple. You might overlook it but for the always-crowded tables both indoor and out; this is clearly a neighborhood favorite. If the hosts can’t seat you right away, accept their offer for a table at the annex just around the corner, which has the same menu and a similarly charming decor.

If you are smart (and hungry), you will order the 19-euro, prix-fixe brunch, a comprehensive spread providing plenty of baked goods and a nice balance of sweet and savory. Begin with your choice of hot beverage; I would suggest a cafe creme. Take note of the orange juice, which truly tastes like the freshest orange you have ever had, and contains lots of fresh pulp (this is not the muddy stuff that lurks in the bottoms of jugs in the grocery store). Then dig into the bread basket, filled with slices of a classic wheat loaf and fig bread, and accompanied by a vessel of jam. Next is a basket brimming with croissants, perhaps the best I’ve had in Paris–not too crisp on the outside, with insides like buttery little clouds.

The next round is plain, thick yogurt, served in little metal dishes and topped with fresh melon and mango. Finally, the piece de resistance comes in the form of soft scrambled eggs (I am not usually a fan, but these were fantastic) heaped into a fluffy golden mound, and accompanied by a delicate tomato and cucumber salad. Burn some calories afterward by shopping in the nearby boutiques and French chains, or just get lost in the maze of picturesque streets; perhaps even pick up a sweet snack for later at the next-door bakery.

Les Philosophes

28 rue Vieille du Temple

If there were ever a bakery worth crossing a monumental bridge for, it would be Almondine, in the DUMBO area of Brooklyn. On the first truly warm day in NYC, we decided to brave the tourists and cyclists on the Brooklyn Bridge in the name of the city’s best baguette, as named by New York Magazine. Clearly, we couldn’t go all that way without picking up a few more of Almondine’s superior baked goods. An incredibly buttery, yet light and airy, pain au chocolat (above) is reason enough to return. Ditto the almond croissant, prepared in the traditional way: a day-old croissant is sliced in half, lengthwise; spread with almond cream then closed back up; scattered with almonds on top and baked until dark golden-brown; and dusted with confectioner’s sugar. The edges get crisp and caramelized, the filling is creamy and glues the croissant together, and after one bite, you feel as if all is right with the world.

Although Almondine is probably best known for its baked goods, lots of its patrons were having lunch. We tried the smoked salmon sandwich on a poppy-seed roll, accessorized with sliced hard-boiled eggs, capers, and cream cheese; and the turkey sandwich (above), topped with cheese that was crisped under a broiler–a little chewy on the outside, gooey on the inside, and completely delicious. Their hot chocolate is not too shabby, either, though not quite as decadent as City Bakery’s, in Manhattan.

And as for that baguette: its crusty, chewy exterior and fragrant, light interior will keep me going back to Brooklyn until I find a worthy competitor in Manhattan.