A Baking Experiment Gone Right

This afternoon, it started to pour. Not just rain, pour. And you knew it was coming, too. You could tell by the dark clouds that hung low across the sky and the low growl that rumbled every few minutes, waiting to attack.

Wow, I just got literary on you. I wasn’t craving anything this afternoon, but the rain (and thunder and lightning) did put me in a baking mood. In yesterday’s post, I talked about making food for no reason other than to shamelesslyfully stuff my face. Today was different. Yes, my baking stemmed out of boredom. But it was a crafty boredom. The kind where you sort of glance around around, taking in different objects and ingredients and think, “what can I make with all of this?”

If I’m baking, I usually try to follow a recipe. And while I never end up actually following it, all my creations start out loosely based off of someone else’s fail-proof instructions.

Today, in my moment of craftiness (perhaps it was the lightning), I decided to make cookies. But actually. Make cookies. I had flour. Chickpea flour. I knew a lot of baking recipes substitute applesauce or a banana for oil. I had an apple… I could make applesauce. I guess? I mean, applesauce is really just mashed apples. Sort of.

I also had chocolate chips (duh), oats, vanilla, salt, baking soda, walnuts, maple syrup, and coconut butter. These are starting to sound like really complicated cookies. They weren’t.

And they came out surprisingly well! Much better than I would have thought. And while I didn’t do any sort of nutrition fact calculations, they’re pretty effing healthy. Like when it comes to cookies.

I highly suggest you make these. That is, if you’re looking for a cookie fix that won’t break your elastic waistband but remind you that there are still healthy cookies in the world that taste good. Perhaps I’m biased because I like anything with chocolate chips in it. Except for pumpkin. Not a fan of pumpkin and chocolate.

Deceptively Delicious Chocolate Chip Cookies

• 1 c. chickpea flour
• 1/2 c. oats
• 1/4 tsp. salt
• 1/4 tsp. baking soda
• 1 apple, peeled
• 1 Tbsp. coconut butter
• 2 Tbsp. maple syrup
• 1 tsp. vanilla
• 1/4 c. walnuts, chopped (optional)
• 1/3 c. chocolate chips, or amount desired

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Slice and core apple, place in blender or food processor until mashed. Set aside.

In a small mixing bowl, combine flour, oats, salt, and baking soda. In a small bowl, combine the mashed apple, coconut butter, maple syrup, and vanilla. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients, mixing together with a sturdy mixing spoon or, more effectively, your hands. When incorporated, add in walnuts (optional) and chocolate chips. After these have been mixed in, use a tablespoon to drop spoonfuls of the dough onto a small baking sheet. Make sure each cookie dough ball is spaced evenly apart. Flatten each ball with your hand, forming the balls into a classic cookie shape. Put tray in the oven for 9-11 minutes. When done, remove tray from the oven and let cool for a few minutes– if you can wait that long. Cookies should be solid yet moist.

When I made these, I didn’t flatten out the cookies so they turned out in ball form. And I was okay with that; in fact, I preferred it! But obviously if you’re looking for a more classic cookie, you should flatten them– they won’t do it by themselves!

While these cookies are still a work in progress, I was so excited about the way they turned out– and the fact that I created them myself– that I had to share them with you.

Enjoy!

And no, I didn’t eat these all in one sitting. I had two gooey ones right out of the oven with a small glass of rice milk. And then I saved the rest for another time!

Where Do We Go Now?

When I started this blog last summer (oh good lord, is it almost the blogiversary?), I intended it to be a healthy living blog that followed my exploits in the world of vegan/vegetarian cooking and my various fitness pursuits. And that worked, for the most part. But when I went to Paris, the blog took a different direction. It was inevitable. Instead of taking pictures of the food I made in in my own kitchen, I took pictures of food other people made in their kitchens. And I took a lot of really great pictures and ate a lot of really great things.

But now I’m back home, with a kitchen to use and endless ingredient possibilities– and, the best yet, no judgment from French host families regarding what I might want to eat. Seriously, how is yogurt and granola in the morning weird?

I’ve also realized, upon coming home, that I’m so lazy when it comes to using cookbooks. Which is a shame, since I have a ton of them. No, they’re not my mother’s cookbooks, there actually my cookbooks and I NEVER use them. And considering how often my food creations turn out, well… not that pretty, I think it’d be great practice to start using cookbooks more,  just to perfect my cooking skills.

So here we go. This summer, I’m going to showcase recipes (among all the other usual stuff) that I make from my cookbooks. I won’t be able to give you the exact recipes due to copyright issues, but I’ll tell you the cookbook it came from and I’ll show you the process– and the end result. I’m sure some online recipes will slip in every now and then. But for the most part, I’d like to start breaking in these cookbooks!

My hope is that, in a few months (or sooner,  with any luck), I’ll be able to make successful recipes of my own, having garnered an understanding of recipe development through my cookbook exploits over the summer.

This is starting to sound like an academic project proposal. And since it’s the start of summer vacation and such language has no place here, I’ll end now.

Stay tuned for some interesting vegetarian and vegan recipes! (Oh yeah, and with a focus on gluten-free, but I can’t be trusted to fully commit yet.)

Market Plunder

I spent my Easter morning walking back from a friend’s house. No, it was not a “walk of shame,” it was a wholesome sleepover. My host mother is gone for the weekend and didn’t want me spending the entire time by myself, especially since I’m not able to open the shutters while she’s gone. I’m about to lose all my skin pigmentation after spending an entire day indoors.

Because I would be alone for dinner tonight (and lunch), and since I’m not allowed to use the stove, I had the brilliant idea to go to Marché Bastille to pick up some veggies, salad, and marinated artichokes. But when I emerged from Metro Place Monge, I realized that I had a market right in front of me– and I can’t think of a better way to spend my Easter morning. Who cares about scrounging for Easter eggs– why not search for the perfect dinner?

You all know that I constantly bemoan my lack of fresh veggies here, so I was very excited by the prospect of a fresh, healthy salad. I was envisioning mesclun, artichokes, and feta. Perhaps some apple.

If you’re headed to Paris– or France in general– I suggest that you make a stop at the market an obligatory checkbox on your list. They’re all over, and it’s an experience that you won’t encounter in America, regardless of how many farmers’ markets you frequent.

First of all, the vendors are all so friendly. While I can’t speak for them, they always seem so happy to assist you and help you find exactly what you’re looking for. When I asked for mesclun, the vegetable vendor happily plucked bits of greens from a variety of bins, as if he were playing the piano. The cheese vendor very cheerily sliced a block of feta in half for me, and the man selling middle-eastern delights, like olives, tapenade, and roasted peppers, wanted to know if he had given me enough artichoke hearts.

And don’t get me started on the man selling honey. Among the usual jars of jam and honey, he was selling mini jars as well, for 2.10 euros. I’ve never tried miel de chataigne– chestnut honey– but since I’ve been living in Paris for 7 months, I found this appalling and in need of urgent fixing. If you don’t know, Paris is full of chestnut trees. For a better idea, look at a Madeline book. Those are chestnut trees, and they are everywhere. The little jars are so cute, and I plan on collecting several– I’m in need of shot glasses. What is cuter (and more pretentiously study abroad) than little mason jars that once contained chestnut honey? The vendor was so nice, and while I already knew what I wanted, I could tell he was very knowledgeable about the different flavors of honey. And there were a lot.

I just had a delicious salad for lunch (gotta balance out all these chocolate easter eggs that my friend gave me), and I feel like a different person. Mesclun, kiwi, artichoke, and some feta cheese. I love living in Paris, but it will be wonderful getting back to meals like this. I miss having to think of what I’m going to make for my next meal.

I can’t think, however, of a better way to celebrate Spring and Easter than scouting the markets for fresh produce. Revel in the season’s bounty. Happy Spring!

Eat some asparagus for me… that’s one vegetable my host mom forgets exists.

Bob’s Kitchen

I’d heard about Bob’s Kitchen a few ways. 1) From the original Bob’s Juice Bar (which I still have to go to), and 2) from the article my aunt sent me about Americans making their way into french kitchens. And after eating a very rich dinner the night before at a friend’s birthday celebration, I knew I needed some “clean food.”

Gordon, a frequent name on the blog, accompanied me once again after we checked out the latest exhibit at the Jeu de Paume museum.

Bob’s Kitchen has a very unassuming facade– the only way you’d know it might be what you’re looking for is if you see the little sign in the window:

Plus, if you actually look inside, you’ll see a bunch of hipsters.

I couldn’t have been more excited to see a GREEN SMOOTHIE. So of course I got that.

But I can never pass up a bowl of brown rice and hummus.

 

Gordon opted for a bagel with feta and tapenade.

 

We’d both like to go back, as we liked the food and the atmosphere, depsite the abundance of french hipsters. If you’re in Paris and looking for a break from all the butter, and just some healthy, clean food, hit up Bob’s kitchen! It’s not boring veggie food, I promise.

Bob’s Kitchen, 74 Rue des Gravilliers, 75003. Métro Arts et Métiers.

 

Photo credit: Gordon Wilkins and his iPhone.

Up in A’dam

This past Wednesday, I took a little trip up Amsterdam way with a friend, Emily. We’re both studying in Paris for the year, and we wanted to travel somewhere in between semesters.

So, we opted for Amsterdam! It’s a pretty standard city on the “European travel” list, but now I know why. Other than the  various well-known reasons, of course.

I’m completely obsessed with this city! I’ve always been a huge nerd for home design, both exterior and interior (I still get as excited as my 10-year-old self whenever I see the latest copy of HouseBeautiful on the dining room table), and this city is full of it.

From the beautiful indigo-painted brick houses to the huge windows (through which one can see all the sweet ceiling beams and Ikea-esque white paper lanterns), this city knows what’s up, design wise.

And the food wasn’t so bad, either.

Our first night there, we went big. Mind you, this wasn’t with our own wallets, but as a treat from Mom and Dad.

The restaurant at which we ate, Le Zinc et Les Autres, had a section on their menu of vegetarian dishes. And not a hippie in sight, mind you. That’s saying something.

I opted for a curried vegetable dish wih a tofu wonton and rice. Hard to describe in a phrase, but it was very good.

For dessert (you thought we were going to pass that up?), we chose something called “Chocolate Caviar.”

Wow.

The next day, after visiting the Anne Frank house, we decided to check something else off our list. The best apple pie in Amsterdam! It can be found at Winkel, a coffee shop on Westerstraat.

 

It was absolutely delicious, and made the perfect lunch! We got our vitamins with all the apples, duh.

For dinner, we decided to get some veggies. Decided/just really needed to. When one eats apple pie for lunch, one has to make up for it other ways.

But our dinner was hardly punishment. We ate at a delicious vegetarian restaurant, Holboed, recommended to us by my mother. It was a great recommendation– and even got the seal of approval from Emily, who’s not the world’s biggest frequenter of vegetarian restaurants.

I opted for the Vegan dish of the day, since I just generally need a break from cheese and dairy. Delicious.

 

Emily opted for a casserole, which she still raves about.

One of the best parts was the cat in the restaurant (a common theme in Amsterdam!). 

 

The next day’s weather was absolutely awful. Calm one minute, rainy (even hail) and windy the next. And when you have a cheap umbrella that insists on reversing itself every 4 seconds, it’s even worse.

So we both were in the market for some warm soup. For some reason, we were picturing some delicious fresh baked bread as well. We came across this little place, Letting. Not sure what that means in Dutch. But the soup was delicious!

I got a delicious carrot ginger, while Emily opted for a creamy potato leek. And both came accompanied by fresh bread.

And for dessert, something called “Lady Kisses.” They were delicious, but the cookies were pretty crunchy. I’m not sure what that actually says about lady kisses. Hm…

 

Oh, and how can I forget the fresh stroopwafel that we found (and purposely sought out) and the Albert Cuyp Market?

 

And now, it’s back to Paris. I still find it bizarre that I breathe a sigh of relief when I get back to this familiar city. And that I even think it’s familiar. But that’s the way it is, and I’m not fighting it.

Pink Flamingo

 

As I mentioned earlier this week (like, ages ago, on Tuesday), I had a friend coming to Paris to visit. Actually, Cordelia was making a brief stop in Paris before continuing on her way to Tuscany, for 3 weeks of WWOOF-ing (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms). How cool is that?

We did a lot of walking. And today was no different. We started off our morning (okay, try late morning) with a trip to the Bastille, and then walked northwards to catch a glimpse of the Canal Saint-Martin.

(If you’re wondering why there’s still foliage in Paris in January, you have every right to wonder. This picture is from October.)

When we’d finally caught sight of the canal, Cordy brought up an interesting point. My friends were telling me about this pizza place near here where you could get your pizza to go and they give you a balloon so you can picnic by the Canal and they’ll come by and pick up your plates afterwards.

Luckily, I knew what she was talking about! I’d heard of– and seen– this pizza restaurant, but I had never been in. I’d heard great things, though. And, since it was lunchtime, we decided that it would be the perfect spot to eat– if we could find it.

With noses to the ground (figuratively), we came across Pink Flamingo in no time.

You order first, in the tiny tiny room, and then head next door to sit down at the tables. Just so you know? They have a pizza called “Obama.” American, representin’.

We couldn’t decide between the Aphrodite pizza (Cordy), a classic pizza topped with grilled eggplant and hummus, or the Marcello (Louisa), which had roquette drizzled in olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and shaved parmesan. They both sounded really good. So we asked the guy behind the counter, who told us that his favorite was the Aphrodite.

Goddess of Love, it was.

The pizza was perfec to split between two people, and not at all expensive for what we got. 13 Euros for a perfect lunch for two.

Although I was initially wary of the hummus, it was actually delicious! Never underestimate the power of bread, cheese, and hummus.

I really wanted to get the Nutella pizza for dessert, but Cordy stopped me. Probably for the best.

On our way back, we decided to wander through the Marché Bastille that we had seen earlier that morning. This market was HUGE. Maybe it’s just because I don’t usually have a chance to check out the Sunday markets, but there was so much more space around the Bastille than in the center of Paris, so there were so many more stalls and vendors that I’ve ever seen. It almost felt like I was in a completely different place!

We each picked up some fruit for our respective travels. (oh, glory to clementines.)

Of course, we got Nutella crêpes from the Breton products stall (just picture lots of salted butter caramel). Come to think of it, we should have gotten salted caramel crêpes. When in Bretagne… (except not.) I guess I have an excuse to go back next Sunday!

So here’s to a fabulous weekend of friends and food. The best combo.

Hopefully I’ll have an exciting announcement at the end of the month– stay tuned!

21-Day Yoga Challenge

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In mindlessly surfing the web last night for healthy living inspiration (an all too common occurrence, I can assure you), I came across Yoga Journal, one of my favorite magazines. I often find a plethora of relevant life advice in its pages, and I figured the website could offer me the same.

I didn’t even have to do any clicking. Right there, on the homepage, was the sign:

Join our 21-day Yoga Challenge!

Destiny, friends, destiny. The challenge starts next Monday, January 9th, the same day I move into my new host family. Friends and family that have been keeping in touch/following the blog will know how big of a day this is for me. I have been WAITING for this day since the end of October. And I’ve made it guys. Well, almost. It’ll be a few more days. But I’m practically there!

And, in my opinion, what better way to celebrate this new change in my life than by getting back into my yoga practice!

I usually have my yoga mat with me wherever I go. But I left it at home when I came to Paris… since I figured it’d pretty much put me over the extra weight limit for my baggage. I didn’t even need a mat to do that for me… my clothes did all the work. (clothes and shoes, clothes and shoes.) And while I thought I’d just buy a cheap one in Paris, I realized that I didn’t feel like spending money on something I would only have temporarily. And after joining a yoga studio, and realizing that they provided free mats, I ditched the idea altogether.

But I’ve gotten into the mentality that I can only practice yoga at the yoga studio. And I don’t like that. Especially because I’m not really loving the few yoga classes I’ve taken there. (So I’ll actually be taking some of the other classes they offer, like Modern Jazz. WOW look at me now.)

I’ve decided to take things into my own hands, and onto my invisible mat. Because I guess you don’t really need a long piece of rubber in order to stretch, right? Sure, it makes some things easier (like down dogs), but I can toughen up. Sliding while inverted on oriental rugs builds character! I mean that in the context of doing yoga, not other things, you dirty-minded people.

I did  some yoga this morning, but it was more of a yoga workout than a yoga practice. Not to drop any names but it may just be JenniferAniston’syogaworkoutNBD. And while that’s a story for another time, the practice of stretching out my very sore body and focusing inwards, specifically with breath, was a great start to my day. And I already feel “yoga sore,” a term that I just made up to describe how I’m feeling right now. Not sore like you’re just done 100 squats and lord help you if you try to walk, but sore as in, I’ve just actually done a consistent yoga practice for the first time in a long time.

Which reminds me that I’m lying, actually. I’ve taken a handful of yoga classes at this fitness studio, and I’m not impressed. They were all in the Hatha style, to be honest, but I find myself as more of a Vinyasa gal. And the teacher I took classes with just didn’t have that yoga spark that I look for in a teacher. Now, ask me about Burlington Yoga in Vermont, and then try to get me to stop gushing. But I don’t have that reaction about my current studio. So I shall use them for their Modern Jazz classes (and whatever else they offer me), and do yoga on my own.

But let’s get back to the whole POINT of this post. I, as of next Monday, will be doing a yoga practice for 21 days. I have no idea what this means, or what it entails. I just know that I entered an email address and will receive, as of January 9th, daily emails about daily yoga practices, noteworthy vegetarian recipes, and meditation techniques.

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Oh, there’s 3 components of the challenge that I forgot to talk about.

1. One yoga practice per day.

2. 15 minutes of meditation per day (ooh, this is gonna be rough. My friend and I went to Meditation Club once at school and left halfway through).

3. One vegetarian meal per day. Already done this, times 3.

 

Anyways, it’s definitely going to be a challenge, but I encourage you all to join me! Even if you don’t officially sign up for the challenge, maybe this post– and future posts– will inspire you to try out a yoga class, if you’re new to it, or maybe to get back into that yoga practice that you forgot about over the past few months. Even if it inspires you to just stretch for 5 minutes before bed, you’ve already accomplished something!

Here’s to 2012 and starting resolutions off right. Namaste!

Le Paradis du Fruit

This past weekend, I rewarded myself for spending the entire day writing an essay by going out to dinner and a movie with a friend.

 

Though he may quite a case for the movie Shame, I’m just not sure I want to change my image of Michael Fassbender after seeing him in Jane Eyre. So we opted for Roman Polanski’s Carnage, which I’d heard about and which got excellent reviews, according to Rotten Tomatoes.

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After the movie, which was incredibly enjoyable with great performances from all the actors involved, we headed to dinner at Le Paradis du Fruit, a chain restaurant that specializes in, you guessed it, juice.

But it’s so much more than juice. It’s set up like a fancy bar with lots of neon lights and glass artwork.

Oh, and there’s alcoholic juice, too. And food. Like I said, it’s so much more than a juice bar.

We started off with some Guacamole, because someone was craving it. It was good, but, um… where are the chips? Do you expect us to eat all that guac with 4 little pieces of pita? Oh right, you’ll just charge us extra for the other pieces of pita that we ask you for. Thanks.

Drinks helped.  Mojitoes!

For dinner, we split a quinoa dish. Who knew there would be veggies hiding inside this huge mound of quinoa?

*Note: Le Paradis du Fruit is not a vegetarian restaurant. In fact, there are very few vegetarian main courses. Most of the entrées, however (appetizers), are veggie. Heads up.*

The dish was good, but the egg on top was cold. Which isn’t really supposed to happen, if it’s a poached egg. But we finished the dish anyways.

For dessert, we opted for something simple and light. Frozen yogurt with a side of caramelized pecans (not me) and Nutella (so so me).

All in all, a good meal. But in the future, I think I’ll stick to drinks here. The place has a great atmosphere (and tons of space!) but the food didn’t amaze me, and I’m not sure how fresh it was.

For locations, check out their website: http://www.leparadisdufruit.fr/

Food Labels

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Before I get too into this past weekend in Bruges– specifically, the food– we should probably address the whole “vegetarian” thing, right? Don’t get scared. I’m doing this for your own good. I already know my food preferences, but I don’t want you to get scared if you see a spot of fish grace some of the images to follow.

Yes. I am still a vegetarian. Have I made a few exceptions while I’ve been in France? Yes. And I can probably count those times on one hand and still have a few fingers left.

I’ve already talked about the decision to go from “vegan” to “vegetarian” upon entering La France (actually, upon entering the state of Vermont). But what about those moments of being an occasional pescetarian?

In France, vegetarianism is a hard line to draw. A lot of people– in fact, most– thing vegetarians are synonymous with what we’d call pescetarians here in the states (us and our food names– can’t get enough). So being a vegetarian is hard enough (though I’m grateful I’m not in Spain, where there’s an abundance of ham).

Then there’s the macrobiotic diet, where people are essentially vegan plus fish. So what am I?

I don’t know. I decided that it made sense for me, both personally– and culturally– to be flexible depending on what I want and the situation I may find myself in. I would say I stick to a 98% vegetarian diet. Actually, let’s round that up to 99.5%. Because those times when I’ve eaten things other than vegetables (or eggs or cheese) were very few and far between. And this weekend was a wonderful opportunity for me to explore a particular cuisine without sacrificing a cultural experience.

I’ll always choose a well-prepared, high-quality, fresh, local meal with fish or poultry (though I’m not quite there yet) instead of a purely vegetarian dish that might come out of a plastic container. I’m sorry, but tofu stir-fry in Bruges? No thank you!

But that’s just me. And that’s the point– it’s what makes sense for me. They are my own food principles. I’m getting really sick of needing to describe how I eat in one word. There will always be exceptions to that word, and I don’t think it’s fair to the people who truly abide by one-word diets to lump myself in with them.

Pure vegetarians of the world, I support you! In fact, I’m with you! 99.5% of the time. Vegans, man… if I could join you I would, but me and my cheese are just having too good of a time right now. And omnivores– hell, full-carnivores! If you’re doing what makes sense for you, do it. When it comes to meat, I think it’s important for people to do whatever makes sense for their own body– as long as they do it with an awareness of what their food choices may contribute to the planet.

And the same goes for vegetables! I’ve cut back on my consumption of tofu by an enormous amount (aside from the fact that it’s not really a thing in France) because of the huge amount of soy that our country produces. That’s not necessarily an industry I want to support at every meal. But if I do have tofu– or tempeh– I’ll do so with an awareness of what I’m doing.

If you’re someone that doesn’t realize there’s a link between a beef patty and a cow– well, then we have a problem.

But just ask yourself– where does my food come from? How did it get there? Those are all important questions we should be thinking about when we make our food choices.

And I did exactly that as I chowed down on my mussels on Friday night, followed by some swordfish in my pasta on Saturday.

Sorry for the food rant. It’s a subject about which I’m incredibly passionate, and it’s easy for me to get carried away.

But this was good. This was a good chat. Now you know where I’m coming from, and if you hear mention of me with a piece of fish, you won’t gasp and say “MY OH MY LOUISA LOOKS LIKE YOU’LL HAVE TO CHANGE THE BLOG NAME.”

Of course, everyone has to draw the line somewhere. Don’t get as crazy as these people.

 

***The picture that greeted you all as you clicked on this post is from the newly illustrated Food Rules, by Michael Pollan. Check it out. Great ideas, great solutions– and now great pictures.***

Guen Mai

Yesterday was the last day of November. Which means it’s the first day of December, a month filled with cookies, cakes, chocolate, and generally about a gazillion other forms of sugar. Hey, I’m not complaining! I’m currently suffering from cookie-baking withdrawal. It just means that I’ll have to balance out my month of sugar with some healthy veggies whenever I can. Lucky for me, I love vegetarian restaurants almost as much as I love chocolate shops.

So I decided to check out a restaurant that frequently pops up on “Paris Vegetarian restaurants”  lists online. Guen Mai.

It’s a little restaurant in the 6th arrondissement that doubles as a health foods store– lots of vitamins, supplements, nut butters, seed oils, cleanses, etc. And what health foods store would be complete without a juicer?

Guen Mai is tucked into a little side-street right behind Boulevard Saint-Germain. It’s hard to miss it once you see it with it’s trellis-covered exterior, but you have to find the street first! I first stumbled upon it a few weeks ago when I was aimlessly walking through the 6th, so this time I had to make sure I knew where I was going!

The restaurant features two or three specials for the day, depending on the day. They’ll tell you what they have for the day when you walk in, but if for some chance you’re not really understanding French, the menu explains it as well. Out of the Wednesday choices– Cooked fish (macrobiotic restaurant), Tofu Ravioli, or Seitan brochette (assuming that means some sort of kebab?). I went with the Seitan brochette. Great choice.

As you can see, the plate of the day also comes with all of the other sides that are displayed in the case at the front of the store/restaurant. So I got some brown rice, tofu/rice noodles, millet, cooked onions and carrots, Dal, grated beets and carrots, and of course, the Seitan.

Naturally, I got some juice. Carrot ginger, and it hit the spot. Just look at that color!

I was starving before I went into the restaurant, so I had a hard time stopping after I finished the main plate– I was still hungry! So what to do? Get dessert, obviously.

They had a few selections of the day, mainly fruit tarts. Apple crumble, Apple/Apricot, Apple/Hazelnut, and cooked apples. I’m sensing an apple theme here, but maybe that’s just me.

I randomly chose the apple/apricot, not knowing exactly which one it was in the display case, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be disappointed.

Very good, but very simple. I mean, don’t base your opinion of French desserts off of the tart. But if you’re in the mood for something simply sweet, light, and healthy, then this hit the spot! Also, the restaurant managed to pull off a great flaky crust. I was impressed.

It’s not the least-expensive place, but it’s also not the most-expensive place either. And if you’re someone who believes in putting their health before their wallet (okay, if you just love good, simple, healthy food), then it’s worth it. Entrées were around 5 Euro, as were the juices. Main plates were around 10-14 Euro (mine was 12.50), and desserts were around 5 Euro.

I got to the restaurant at 1:30, and it was already bustling, though I was immediately seated (I guess the benefit of eating alone?). The crowd was mainly (okay, all) women, except for the man waiting on the tables. Based off of the way they addressed each other, I gathered that the man was married to the woman at the counter, who was also keeping an eye on their little girl.

When I asked her what Guen Mai meant, she said it was a traditional ancient rice soup from Japan. At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what she said. I made out rice, soup, and Japan.

So there you have it!

Guen Mai, 6 Rue Cardinale, 75006.  Métro Mabillon (10), Saint-Germain de Près (4).