Would you eat this invisible cake?

A couple of questions and some slices of life, food, art and shopping from Paris

Bonjour! Bonjour!

I’ve been in Paris for a few weeks now, working and playing and nibbling and seeing friends and feeling lucky to have this double life in which I get to move between small-town Connecticut to big-town Paris. I love city life, love the bustle and sometimes even the hassle, love how vibrant the streets are, how there’s always something amusing to see, stylish people to admire and cafes to settle into no matter where you are.

My favorite morning café is Les Editeurs — it fills up by about 11 a.m. and stays full all night, but early in the day, when I go there to write, there’s always a table, quiet jazz in the background and soft chatter. And often my favorite couple is there. I don’t know them, I’ve never talked to them — I doubt I ever will — but I’m touched by their morning routine. They sit across from one another, order breakfast and read. Books. Not screens. Not newspapers or magazines. Books. They stay for a couple of hours, sometimes one leaves before the other, they talk to each other now and then, but mostly they read.

I have writer friends — friends who are not writers, too — who make a practice of reading for an hour in the morning before they set to work. I want to be one of those people, but alas. Now I’m thinking that if I could get Michael to go to Les Editeurs with me in the morning …

A Tip

Decades ago, during a period when I was determined to master Pommes Anna, that classic dish of thinly sliced potatoes packed into a mold or pan, glued together with butter and unmolded to the sounds of a trumpet fanfare, I bought a professional mandoline (I think it cost me almost as much as I earned in a week). The thing scared me to death then and I’m not unafraid of it now. Every time that I used it and came away with my fingertips intact, I thanked the kitchen angels. Then, when I discovered smaller, more manageable (at least for me) and just-as-sharp slicers, life changed. By that time, I wasn’t as passionate about Pommes Anna, but I was happy to make tarts topped with gossamer-thin fruit, apple chips, potato chips and a million kinds of shaved vegetable salads. Were these new ones really safer than the slide-upon mandoline? Not sure. But I felt more at ease with them and so now have a few and use them often.

The OXO slicer and the one from Kyocera are my friends, ditto the Benriner, the slicer in the picture. I pulled it out the other night to make an apple cake — about which I have questions; see below — and wondered if other people use the slicer the way I do. While lots of recipes instruct you to cut an apple in quarters, remove the core and pits and then slice, I start with a whole apple, slice away one side, move to the next and finish with a sharp sided piece of apple that I can nibble on. (You won’t get precisely sized pieces, but that’s not so important for most recipes.) I’m afraid to jinx myself, but I’ve never nicked a finger slicing fruit this way.

Help Needed: What Do You Think?

Scrolling Instagram, as one does, I came across some beautiful loaf cakes made by Dawn of Evelyn’s Crackers. I love her baking and love her commitment to grains, so I was doubly delighted to discover that the cakes she posted were inspired by Marie-Hélène’s Apple Cake and the classic Gâteau Invisible, a cake, like M-H’s, that has more fruit than batter. But Dawn had used miso (one of my favorite flavors) and buckwheat flour instead of white all-purpose. I was so intrigued that I set to work to in Paris to make my own Invisible Apple Cake. While some friends and I nibbled our way through a lot of the cake trying to decide how we felt about it, other people made their decision immediately: They didn’t like the cake I’d built! For some it was the texture — more like pudding than cake — legit. And for many it was the color — I used a whole-grain buckwheat, shiro miso that was kind of on the darkish side and maple syrup.

There’s no way to give you a taste and have you weigh in on the texture, but I’d really love to hear from you on the color: Would you reach for a slice? Would you pass it by? If you have a sec, let me know what you think in the comments — and if you have two seconds, please let me know why.

I understood everyone’s reservations, but I was loving the concept of the invisible cake and so I wanted to make it again in a paler version. I won a few more converts with this one, but the pudding texture was still a surprise for many and not always a good one (insert frowny emoji). In one test, I used a French apple called “Story” that retained some of its snap after it was baked and, while I liked the softness of the “cake” layers against the apple’s resistance, it wasn’t for everyone. If from these pictures and my description of the texture, you can chime in, please do. Do you think you’d like it? Also I didn’t peel the apples when I sliced them into the batter, so there’s a bit of red peel — and the chew of peel — here and there. Opinions?

Random Fun in Paris

There’s a new Japanese food center — I don’t know what else to call it, since it has food, housewares, a coffee bar, a cantine and a restaurant — called iRASSHi. I had a sesame-miso cookie and a cappuccino and fell for the glasses they used for water: I bought 8 of them!

Speaking of cookies — I’ve had some good ones. A chunky one from Utopie, some of the most intriguing cookies ever from Patisserie Rayonnance, and a beautifully baked cookie chockfull of good things from Magnolia Pâtisserie (merci La Cuisine Paris for that bit of deliciousness).

Cookies from left to right: Utopie // Rayonnance // Magnolia

And a wonderful cramiche — a lean brioche, speckled with raisins and topped with crunchy sugar — from Meert, the pastry shop best known for their thin waffle sandwich cookies. Sadly, the brioche is only available on Saturdays.

While I was getting my haircut, Laurent (he of roasted pineapple fame — his recipe in Around My French Table is fabulous!) talked about boudin blanc and by the time he blew my hair dry, that’s what I was craving. I bought two boudins from Verot on the way home and that’s what we had for dinner. Frenchified bangers and mash?

I am in love with these business cards from the legendary San Francisco Books Co. near my apartment.

And I never want to be without this candle from the brilliant men’s clothing store, 13 Bonaparte. I wish I could describe the scent to you — impossible, but immediately recognizable. Everyone in my family loves it so much that Joshua and Linling gave one to each of their guests at their wedding.

Pâte de fruit or fruit jelly, is a big deal in France. Jacques Genin is considered the master in Paris and his, made in the classic square shape, are consistently splendid, but take a look at these little orbs from Magnolia Pâtisserie. Pretty, right?

Ok, not in the least alike, but maybe sharing a spirit. Here’s a haunting painting by the artist Paul Rouphail — I was mesmerized by it when I saw the exhibit of his work at the Stems Gallery. It was painted in Italy and is part of a series called Credenza, which might also be called Light. I came home to work after seeing the exhibit, sat at my desk (which is the dining room table), looked up and saw the afternoon light against the back wall. An echo of beauty.

Paul Rouphail on left; my afternoon light on right

And it’s on to Valentine’s Day! If you’ll be cooking or baking, let me know what you’ve got lined up. Moi? Hmm. Not sure of anything yet.

📚 You can find more recipes in my latest book Baking with Dorie.

👋 Say hello and share what you're making on Facebook and Instagram.

Some of the links in this post may be affiliate links. As an Amazon Associate and Bookshop.org Affiliate, I might earn a little flour-and-sugar money if you make a qualifying purchase after clicking on a link, which I promise to use while creating more stories like this. Thanks for your support. You can find more “Off the Shelf” book recommendations here.