Chocolate Mousse for Breakfast on the B-Line

A guest post from Marina, Chef and Chief Rambler, Le Petit Cafe, Bloomington, Indiana.

Marina's window on the B-Line. 

People often ask me if I intend to retire in Paris, where I came from. No! I ain’t going nowhere! I want to retire right here -preferably on the B-Line. Why on earth would I want to retire in a city filled with women who make a public show of eating plates laden with rich food in front of American tourists watching them in awe and wondering how they can do it twice a day and keep their figures?

They are lying through their teeth my friends! What you do not know is, while they pretend to absentmindedly eat their Steak au poivre avec frites, they are frantically calculating how many calories they are ingurgitating and for how many meals they will have to content themselves with an apple or a yogurt.

How do I know? I was one of these women! So, do yourself a favor: next time you go to Paris, ignore them! Pretend you could not care less and with time, they will stop teasing us.

No my friends, I want to retire in a place like the B-Line where people are not afraid to order chocolate mousse for breakfast and add, in an assertive and guilt-free tone of voice “And give me some of that hot chocolate with whipped cream to wash it down!”

Surgery Through Marina's Lens

From Our Friday Guest Blogger, Marina, Chef and Chief Rambler at Le Petit Cafe, Bloomington, IN.

This past week, I have been rambling about the consequences of my husband’s surgery: today, Patrick’s tonsils and uvula will go. I usually do not publicly ramble about my private life but this surgery might have a certain impact on Le Petit Café’s routine: his doctor said it might affect Patrick’s nasal sounds. Nasal sounds, as you know, even if you have not studied French, are very much part of the French language.

Yesterday, while I was serving my delicious, abundant and reasonably priced Sunday lunch, I was making mental lists of all the changes we might have to bring to make Patrick feel more comfortable. For instance, I thought tables un, cinq, onze and quinze might have to be replaced with zero, quatre bis, dix bis and quatorze bis. Not the most convenient thing during a busy shift when efficient communication is so important but we should all make a few sacrifices to minimize Patrick’s nasal self-consciousness.

Patrick and I only speak French in the kitchen and this part worries me a bit more. He will, many times during a shift, have to say Encore du pain (more bread). Would it be reasonable to expect our customers to understand we no longer serve refills of bread or that they have to switch to crackers so Patrick’s ego does not repeatedly get bruised?  True, our clientele has always risen to the occasion when asked to adapt to changes - and I have no doubt it would again- but perhaps the sensible thing to do would be to serve a huge basket of bread with the first course so they would not have to ask for more. This would actually be the ideal solution if it were not for my husband’s strong feelings against waste: he would not deal well with the potentially wasted rolls. Now, I could not possibly ask our clientele to accept Patrick’s unpleasantly nasal sounding nasty remarks about them not eating the 12 rolls of bread, could I? You see what I mean? Not easy to find a happy medium between Patrick’s ego and our clients’ priorities.

All these ideas, as smart as they are, do not seem very realistic. I then remembered we have a friend from Marseilles where nasal sounds seem to be different (it’s also possible this friend had his tonsils and uvula removed too). For instance, he does not pronounce the two consecutive nasal vowels in bonbon as in we do in Paris; it sounds more like bonne-bonne. To prevent ill-spirited clients (they are a few) from making fun of Patrick’s pronunciation, I thought I could tell them he is from Marseilles. I then imagined entire conversations about this:

-      Where is your husband from? would they ask with a smirk. You do not sound the same!
-      From Marseilles.

-          Marseilles? Really? Why don’t you serve Bouillabaisse then? they would insist with a knowing smile (some people do not give up)

I got this part covered though and would thrust forward my coup de grace:

-          We should but unfortunately we cannot find the right fish in Indiana for an authentic Bouillabaisse. (I showed them didn’t I?)

Not to end on an unpleasant note and to add an extra touch of credibility to my harmless fib, I would then conclude with a cheerful: “But try my aioli! That recipe has been in Patrick’s family for many generations.”

Now, this plan is not too unreasonable, is it?

After a while pondering over the difficulty of finding reasonably ethical solutions compatible with everybody’s well-being, I realized this nasal vowel unfriendly surgery might offer an interesting side (to me): Patrick may never be able to enunciate his too frequent and my less favorite answer: NON!

I then started to imagine new and wonderful dialogues:

- Patrick, can I buy a new car?

-          ...
-          Oui!?! Merci Cheri!
-          …! …! …!

I guess I worry too much: the French can do with a few less nasal sounds after all!

Marina's Memoirs

A guest post from the lovely Marina, Chef and Chief Rambler at Le Petit Cafe, Bloomington, IN.



After 32 years in the restaurant business, I certainly have accumulated enough stories to write my memoirs; it was the topic of this morning's rambling while I was preparing my delicious cod/lox quiche….

What would I mostly write about? People, what else? Of course, I could describe the delicate scent emanating from a freshly baked Tarte Tatin but would people pay money to read that? I would not; I would rather spend my money on the tart itself!

So, I would write stories about the people who have made me laugh and about the people who have made me cry too; no one wants to read a long succession of happy dining stories of happy customers. I know I would not; I would be bored to tears!

This is precisely what I want to entertain you about: how could I possibly write about the people who have frustrated me and be absolutely sure the ones who have never caused me any grief (would it be easier if I called these two groups by a letter?) will not take it personally?

For instance, if I tell a story about that vegetarian or that person with food and allergy issues, I can think of at least 20 people, WHO ARE ABSOLUTELY NOT THE ONES I AM TALKING ABOUT, who might take it personally! Then what do I do?

A long foot-note at the bottom of the page might be the solution but it would say something like this:

The allergic person in this story is not the one who comes for lunch every Sunday and sits by the piano or the person whose son goes to IU Law School or the one who owns a vintage clothing shop, etc….

The vegetarian in this story is not a retired Spanish teacher who also comes every Sunday for lunch and also sits by the piano or a woman married to a man in the lumber business who also enjoys sitting by the piano (I know what you are thinking: the piano is a coveted sitting spot) or a person married to a mathematician, etc…

Each foot note would be as long as the acknowledgments at the end of a book!

I might find the solution to this dilemma during another rambling session but I all can think now is that I should either wait until I retire or attend a writing class. But quite frankly, with all this rambling who has time for a class?

Genie in a Bottle...

...of Beaujolais.

This is a guest post from our Friday guest blogger, Marina, from Le Petit Cafe, in Bloomington, In.

One of my favorite ramblings after, let’s say, a frustrating shift is to imagine a little Genie appearing out of my bottle of wine. There is always a bottle of wine after a frustrating shift and today it happened to be a Beaujolais.

-Mistress, the Genie cried, you have freed me and I will grant you one wish: you can make one change in the American legislation!

I can imagine your surprise: what kind of wish is that? Maybe you do not know Beaujolais does not age for very long therefore there is no reason the Genie should be excessively grateful.

My first thought went to Universal Healthcare but I then realized this issue will probably end up being solved by this wonderful new President we have. I might as well ask for something that has NO chance to ever happen, right?

Every American citizen from age 18 to 25 (I gave some thought to the particulars too) should accomplish a 6 month mandatory service as a waiter in a restaurant!

Try to imagine how much more considerate, patient, tolerant and generous our society would be! This new well-being would of course trickle down on many sensitive issues: for instance, being happier, we would be healthier; being loved and respected by other nations, there might be fewer conflicts in the world. A perfect plan.

Sometimes I just do not know what I am doing here, rambling in my kitchen, instead of being out there helping solve some major crisis. If you happen to know anyone who works for the Government, forward this idea to that person please…

"Food Tricks"

This is the first of hopefully many guest posts by the lovely Marina, Chef and Chief Rambler at Le Petit Cafe, in Bloomington, In. This post was originally published on Marina's Facebook Ramblog.


Enjoy!

Friday! Time to have a little fun! Being a Chef, my favorite tricks are the ones involving food and that’s what I want to share with you today. I LOVE playing tricks with food, especially organ meat. Beef tongue is my absolute favorite. For instance, locate a beef tongue (Walmart is a good source), sneak behind a friend holding the tongue near his/her ear and whisper softly “Give me a kiss Honey…”. Surprise 100% guaranteed! Whether the surprise is delighted, disgusted or violent, it will be big.

Here is another charming idea involving beef tongue (this one would gain in being illustrated and I will make a point of taking a picture for you). Locate a milk crate and place it upside down over the tongue, so that it sticks out. Then write a nice sign reading “DO NOT FEED THE TONGUE” and place it next to it. This actually would be a charming way to let a friend, with whom you just had a fight, know you are over it and that things are back to normal (well….maybe not quite “normal” but at least you have not lost your sense of humor yet and a good laugh always helps…).

Squid is great too! Squid makes great finger puppets. This idea would be quite original for a birthday party too but I would suggest the party should take place in the kitchen (you know, the carpet and the couch…).

Chocolate dipped cardboard so it looks like chocolate wafers is fun too (and not cruel for you cannot hurt your teeth against cardboard). It would be a nice touch to pass them to friends at the movies to alleviate the tension during those dramatic scenes.

Now as far as bread making is concerned, I could tell you about an entire line of interesting sculptures but some brush against indecency and I would not want to be kicked out of Facebook for inappropriate rambling… Happy week-end!