Scotch Festival in Rome

It was always an uphill battle.  I wanted to like scotch. I had these visions that I could fit in with the elite 19th century aristocracy, complete with long tailed black coat with two columns of large buttons tightly covering my white shirt with black tie. Most importantly, a thick, handlebar mustache. No doubt, a tall, black top hat would help distinguish myself from the ruffians who couldn't afford such high quality marks of income. In the comforts of an exclusive men's club where the scents of fine leather and tobacco pervade the eyes and nose, the ensemble would be perfected with the perfect glass of single malt whiskey freshly imported from my friend's (read: he's in my pocket) distributorship.

But no matter what I tried in the past, I just couldn't get into scotch. It wasn't the more modern atmosphere that made it difficult. I recently learned it was the lack of tasting these fine spirits from the northern land.

The Spirit of Scotland only lasted two days so better be ready for it next year!

This weekend was Rome's second annual scotch festival in Rome, called the Spirit of Scotland. Master classes, food pairings, smoked salmon, artisanal chocolate and more complemented the multitude of direct label and local vendor tables. If you had a favorite brand, it was likely represented.

The Spirit of Scotland scotch festival was held in a beautiful event space in Rome: the Aranciera di San Sisto.

Because I am an amateur scotch enthusiast, I did some research before on a few various sites to find the best single malt scotches on the market.  This was a smart move because I wasn't entering blindly.  I had fun searching through the tables for particular bottles and when I found the exact brand and vintage, it felt like a major win.

The scotch festival was small but great for scotch enthusiasts of all degrees.

All in all, I was able to sample some of Scotland's finest. Some were smokey, lightly briny. Some bordered on sweet with notes of honey or fruit like green apples.  And then others were floral and grassy. To try some of the best out there was a true pleasure, and I would recommend to all, handle bar mustache or not, go to next year's Scotch Festival in Rome.

This fine gentleman offered a 35 year old scotch tasting.  It was far too expensive for my amateur palate at 8 euro for a finger's worth.

 In the end, I was lucky enough to choose the following samples:

• Highland Park 18 Years Old
• Laphroaig 21 Years Old
• Glenmorangie 18 Years Old

Coming here with three other friends, however, allowed me to try approximately 15 total scotches.  Consider me converted.

I went here for the Glenlivet 15 year old French Oak Reserve.  They told me the bottle was too good for samples.  It was a purchase-only bottle. (super sad face)

Pigging Out at the Wild Boar Festival

If you've ever lived in Italy, then you know the fine people of the country love their festivals.  The words sagra or festa are found year-round, usually ending with a food product the city is celebrating.  In this month alone, I am aware of a chestnut festival, a polenta festival, and one of the largest chocolate festivals in all of Europe located in Perugia, Italy. Next month, I will hear of wine festivals as well as olive oil festivals.  Food is synonymous with Italian culture, which is why I proclaim myself a "Culture Junkie".

Yesterday, in a lovely hillside city 45 minutes outside of Rome called Castelnuovo di Porto, was the Sagra del Cinghiale. The Festival of Wild Boar.  

I was expecting vendor stalls upon vendor stalls badgering people to purchase their quality pork products over their nearby competitors.  Tube meat would be tossed overhead to eager customers in the back of lines. Wild boar prosciutto, salami, sausages, ragu, spreads, everything about the pig's cousin would be celebrated.  I even hoped there would be the lone oddball out there with a wild boar lollipop or gelato flavor, always the losing dessert on televised cooking competitions.  

But when I arrived at the small medieval city, all that was there in the main piazza, the town square, were several picnic tables and a long line leading to the pickup window of a temporary outdoor kitchen. It was a comforting mix of prison and grade school lunch service. I was given my tray along with a leaky bottle of draught white wine, sfuso. Then I asked for the three course Wild Boar meal.

Pappardelle in Wild Boar Ragu

Wild Boar cooked in a savory and spicy chocolate sauce

French Fries

The french fries were delicious.

And honestly the pasta dish was quite good.  But the boar in chocolate sauce would have been ok if they de-boned it better, in addition to serving it MUCH warmer.  Throughout many bites, I found myself pulling shards of bone from my mouth, not the most pleasant experience.  But for 12 Euro total, I got what I paid for. 

That's right, a man on stilts who made balloon animals.

By the way, for any doubters out there, boar in chocolate sauce is amazing.  The best version I have eaten is at a restaurant in Rome called:  

L'Asino D'Oro

Via del Boschetto, 73  00184 Rome, Italy

If you are unsure of eating wild boar, let one of my other articles change your mind:

http://www.made-in-italy.com/italian-food/news/pigs-porchetta-and-cinghiale-the-italian-wild-boar

The Holy Grail of Beers

Westvleteren is the name of the brewery in the Trappist Abbey of St. Sixtus of Westvleteren.  Serious beer lovers know the name because they have mystery appeal.  Most have heard of it, and most have never tried it. Since World War II, the abbey has prohibited the commercial sale of this beer.  The monks who reside at St. Sixtus create the beer solely to keep the abbey running, not for profit - the mantra of the trappist label.  So, sadly, they cap the amount they brew each year to a mere 60,000 cases each year.

Through a quick search online, one unreliable source suggested that Budweiser brews 2,500,000 cases each year. Much, MUCH more.

But in this comparison lies the age-old dilemma.  Which is more important: Profit or Quality?

I'm certain our ancestors from the early 1900s would say quality craftsmanship, regardless the product, was the most important business goal. I'm also certain today's generation would describe the goals of corporations and other major businesses quite alternatively. Oh trusted Capitalism, how you've changed your ways over the years.

Thankfully, St. Sixtus is concerned with one thing, making what many consider to be the world's best beer.

The story goes like this: You couldn't buy their beer anywhere. If you wanted a bottle of their beer, you would have to buy a case, and no more than one case, DIRECTLY AT THE BREWERY, located in Vleteren, Belgium, way up in the northeastern part of the country near the French borders. They made three different kinds with the names of Blonde, 8 and 12.  The bottles weren't labeled.  The only way to distinguish which beer you were drinking was from the color of the cap.   Oh, and if you wanted to buy a case, you also had to call and reserve one - their way to make sure it wasn't going to be sold commercially.

So on recent search for the Great Pumpkin at my favorite local pub in Rome, Open Baladin, I overheard a customer to my left speak enthusiastically in English.  When a person gets this excited over beer, I know there is something we can talk about.  So I waited for the right moment.  First I tried to find out what he and his friend were drinking without bothering him. I walked to the restroom and on the way back, I passed by the dark bottle... just some roman numerals on the front.  I still had no idea what the beer was.  Eventually, I had to know what he drank, so I interrupted him from his divine moment to find out he was drinking the holy grail of beers, Westvleteren 12.

How did he get this beer?  What is it doing with a label on it? What is it doing in Italy being sold commercially?

I had all these questions I wanted answered, but not the fluency to find out the truth.  So I bonded with my new friend, we talked beer and Rome and then he left. And I had to have my own. After all, I might never get to try this again.

And so I did. Many reviews have said it's just like the St. Bernardus Abt 12 and not deserving of the reputation. I found similarities, but I could absolutely tell the difference in quality, especially in the finish.  The Westvleteren 12 is a dark, high alcohol beer at over 10% with notes of dark fruits, slightly sweet with a hint of brown sugar or molasses, light but desirable fruit esters and the finish is smooth and lingering in the best of ways. Talk about one amazing Belgian beer.  St. Bernardus Abt 12 ends too strong, too overpowering to the palate in my opinion.  Yes, the Westvleteren 12 was worth spending the extra money and if you get the chance to try it, do not let the opportunity pass.

What do you think are the world's best beers?  Post a comment below to share your thoughts.

In Search of the Great (Roman) Pumpkin

To many Americans, October means Halloween.  To beerophiles, October means pumpkin  beer… the finest brews made with pumpkin, cinnamon and often dark brown sugar. 

This fine overcast Sunday in Rome, I decided to search for the Great Pumpkin in Rome.  I knew it wouldn’t be an easy task considering Italians don’t share the same squash-beer love ratios that Americans do. Nonetheless, I was ready for the challenge.

I decided to start with the place I figured would most likely have it… Open Baladin Roma.  I sat down at the bar immediately and looked over the multi-page menu.  If you are unfamiliar with my previous posts about this place: Open Baladin has about 46 varieties on tap. (See Best Places in Rome for Craft Beer and Autumn Beer Festival for more details.)  After flipping through the various categories, I finally found the object of desire.

Wait a minute… it’s from America?  Not what I was looking for guys.  I wanted Italy’s interpretation of the ultimate pumpkin beer.  I will have plenty of time in my future years to taste liquid pumpkin pie from the safety of my American home.  So I threw the menu on the bar top in a fit of anger.

The bartender looked at me, inquisitive at the least.

“Excuse me”, I asked in Italian, “but don’t you have artisanal beer made with pumpkin from Italy?”

The bartender turned around and searched through the mini-fridge behind him. Coming up empty-handed, he explained, yes, Baladin makes a pumpkin beer, aptly named Zucca, the word for squash in Italian, but they were out of stock. All I wanted was a taste of the good old days.  So I grumbled a few curses under my breath, fondly mixing the two languages I knew so anyone and everyone might know the pain I was then suffering, and I said, “I’ll take the Pumpking Ale from Southern Teir.

Pumpking Ale by Southern Tier at Open Baladin Roma

At that point, it didn’t matter what country made the beer.  I had pumpkin on the mind and it wouldn’t go away until I had my fix. So it arrived, a lovely light amber color with a fine cream head and I sniffed the pint to my heart’s content.  Aromas of pumpkin, cinnamon, dark brown sugar filled my nose making my mouth water instantly and a nostalgic feeling took over my mind. It’s like I’d just gone back to the U.S. to visit my family for Thanksgiving. More specifically, it was the moment I woke up in my old home, smelling of pumpkin pie at its last minutes of baking in the oven, ready to for dinner later that day. Buttery, sugary, spiced.

Then I took a sip.  At 8.5%, this beer packs a punch, but the brew master at Southern Tier has done an outstanding job of balancing the high alcohol to flavor ratio.  My beer-tasting palate is more advanced than some, and I could easily tell where that the alcohol was there, but it blended so perfectly with the rest of the overall taste, I knew this was a beer anyone would enjoy, especially beer-snobs.

The Translation: Pumpkin Ale - Now a typical American tradition, beer brewed with pumpkin and cinnamon.  PUMPKING ALE 8.6% - by Southern Tier - An amber beer that tastes of grain, somewhat sweet with notes of cinnamon.

The search still continues for Italian pumpkin beer.  Can Italy create a quality pumpkin brew in the likeness of U.S varieties? Will the love for this seasonal taste catch on internationally? Only more samples will tell.

Best Places in Rome for Craft Beer

There are a lot of places in Rome to buy yourself a bottle of birra artigianale. The grocery store, the wine store (called the enoteca), a handful of those late night liquor store types called alimentari, and quite a few restaurants stock the delicious brews.  But what about great quality craft beer straight from the tap?

Really, they can be found at a great many pub and restaurant in Rome. Plenty of places keep one, maybe two on draught.  But that's not what you want, is it?  You're looking for variety.  You want the pub that has more than a handful of different types of good beer.  You pine for artisanal beer, the kind of brew that is hand crafted by small teams and brewed in Italy.

Look no further and trust in Vasgo's beer knowledge. The four must-visit Rome locations for quality craft beer, most of them Italian and with more taps than most pubs and restaurants, are as follows:

1. Open Baladin

Neighborhood: Campo Dei Fiori

http://www.openbaladinroma.it/

When I first went to Open Baladin, I had no idea I was going the one night of the year that they had Autumn Beer Festival.  Angels looked down on me that evening and they said, "Vasgo, you've had a rough day. We'd like to reward you." The place is fairly large and the taps, well, let's just say, to the craft beer connoisseur, anything over 20 taps is epic. This should put it into perspective for you: Open Baladin in Rome employs the use of 43 taps.  They serve a lot of beer from Italy, and plenty more from the rest of the world.  I've never eaten here, but I hear the food is good but a little expensive for the value.

2. Ma Che Siete Venuti A Fa

Neighborhood: Trastevere

http://football-pub.com/ (I'll never know why they chose this as their domain name)

Unfortunately, I have no photo to share of my experiences here. I first heard about this hole in the wall pub during my tour of Belgium.  I was in Brussels at one of the best beer pubs in the city, Moeder Lambic. After careful evaluation of their 20+ beers on draught, I told the bartender I was from Rome and he asked me if I'd ever been to Ma Che Siete Venuti A Fa.  Once he learned I'd never heard of it, he insisted that I go.  The two pubs sometimes work in cahoots, bringing delicious beers from their respective countries to their various local festivals. 

Every time I enter the tiny pub, Ma Che Siete Venuti A Fa, I choose between six stools in the front section and a handful of tables in the back room. It's obviously not designed for large crowds.  It's ideal for beer lovers that want to order and step outside to watch the tourists pass by.  The bartenders are nice, their knowledge of the English language is usually good enough and their beer selection is great with 12+ taps. It's particularly a great spot to go because directly across the street and one store over is their competitor, my number three choice for excellent craft beer on tap, Bir & Fud. 

3. Bir & Fud

Neighborhood: Trastevere

No true website. Found at Via Benedetta, 23, Rome 00153

With about 15 taps on deck, Bir & Fud has a great selection, a small outdoor seating area in front and plenty of inside space for you and your pals to go once you've stood around at Ma Che Siete Venuti A Fa for 30 minutes.  It's been a while since I have been here, but the first time I was there, I wrote about it in better detail.  See my article Ode to Craft Brew for more information about that experience.

4. Eataly

Neighborhood: Ostiense (*Insider Tip*: You will get there fastest by walking through Ostiense train station, under the tracks to the other side.) 

http://www.roma.eataly.it/

If you know Eataly, the worldwide grocery chain offering regional Italian product, you'll know it's an amalgamation of part mall food court, part high-end grocery store and part learning center. In Rome, it's a multi-floor establishment with kitchen classes, art exhibits, restaurants, coffee bars, bakery, every department of a grocer, and the one surprising addition, an onsite microbrewery. If my memory serves right, they operate up to four batches at a time in those large stainless steel vats. In the pub section, they offer a selection of 8 craft beers on draught, at least a couple from their own brewery at any given time. Reader beware: Avoid the fried tortellini happy hour snack.  It sounds and looks good on the advertisement out front, but looks and tastes not so good in reality. Dried out, seemingly stale even after being deep fried, they are not worth the money, and unfortunately, they summarize the experience of all Eataly's fried food offerings.  Don't say I didn't warn you. 

But you're not at their pub for the food court-quality meals. You're there for the air conditioning, and the great selection of Italian craft brew.

Cheers!

Campari and Aperol, the IPAs of Italian liqueurs

Two very Italian beverages are seen consumed every evening between the hours of 4:00pm and 8:00pm.  They are traditionally served on the rocks, with a splash of soda, or as a Spritz, meaning Prosecco is added, Italy's celebrated sparkling white wine.

Campari Soda, always with a wedge of citrus.  In Venice, they serve it with an olive.

Why are Campari and Aperol the IPAs of Italian liqueur? Because they are oh so bitter, just like an India Pale Ale beer.  I wish it were known how many IBUs are in each aperitif (IBU is a beer brewing acronym for International Bitterness Units) because I am confident they are up there.

They are two very similar beverages.  Both are bittersweet. Both taste surprisingly like the other. Both of their recipes use the juice of the chinotto, a citrus fruit resembling an orange typically grown in the southern half of Italy and known to be bitter or sour. Though their recipes are closely held secrets, they likely use a lot of the same herbs and spices during its production. They have two main differences, though.

• Campari has 22% alcohol.
• Aperol has 11% alcohol.

• Campari is cherry red colored.
• Aperol is candy orange colored.

Everything else is similar about them. If you are a fan of bitter beverages, give Campari or Aperol a try.  It's a VASGO favorite.

Rome's Bulk Wine Vendors

Another good reason to come to Italy is for the wine.

Whether or not the ancient inhabitants were first in the world to make it, Italy has been making excellent quality wine for centuries. Its volcanic soil, combined with regional mountainous slopes or rolling hills and surprising abundance of daily sunlight, work wonders for the growing grape vines.

One of the wonderful things I learned while living in Rome is that the cheap wine here is like the average price wine in the United States. Early on, I started purchasing the various bottles of red wine that cost 1 Euro.  Typically, they were wines from the region closest to Rome. And they were just alright. It reminded me of the cheap box-wine back in the States.  Drinkable to the unknowing palate. The experienced wine taster, however, pushes themselves through it.

After realizing that all the 1 Euro options were pretty much unappealing to me, for example, too sharp, too bright, whatever the reason, I moved up to the 2 Euro bottles. The cheapest Italian wine was all too similar to buying those $3 or $4 bottles at the bottom of the shelves. Not good.

2 Euro wine is slightly better than 1 Euro wine, but not good enough for me. It still seemed like the quality was that of a $6 to $8 bottle. Some bordered on decent but most didn't.

On to the 3 Euro bottles. Now that took a leap in quality! Much better.  Much more palatable to the highly discerning tongue. Smoother, more flavor, and thankfully, more options! Many of the 3 Euro bottles taste closer to a $10 bottle purchased in the States.  Most times while I lived in the U.S., I would try to find a bottle between $9-$12 for any red wine whether it be from Spain, Argentina, the U.S., Italy, etc. I'd happily drink better wines but the budget usually wins over my desires.

And that's where Italy has an outstanding solution to my budget friendly/good quality wine desires.

The answer: SFUSO.
In English, you would call that draft wine.

My sfuso vendor at Testaccio's covered market.

After visiting this vendor once a week for the last, say 12 weeks in a row, this man's coworker who I assume is his wife finally said to me in Italian, "I see you all the time.  Why are you here? To study?"

"No, signora.  La mia moglie studia storia del arte. Sono una casalingo."

And then she breaks out in laughter. Why? Because I said, "No, ma'am. My wife studies art history. I am a house wife." And it's even more funny to Italians because ending the word, casalinga, with an -o- suggests that I am a male house wife. And that word doesn't exist in the Italian dictionary. So it's funny to them. Everyone loves a good play on words, right?

The laughter tells me we are now friends, and hopefully she will continue to remember me in the future as a good customer.  Because as you continue to get to know your vendors, randomly, you start getting more product for the usual amount spent. It pays to be friendly.

For 3.20 Euro, I get a 1.5 Liter plastic bottle filled with rather good Montepulciano red wine. Many restaurants you go to in Italy offer this same type of good enough but still inexpensive "house wine", vino rosso della casa.

The best news is that the vendors offer a number of different varietals. A couple reds, a couple whites, some dry, some sweet, some cheaper than others. Sfuso vendors typically are located at the major outdoor Italian Markets. I have occasionally found the set-up in random neighborhood supermarkets as well. You just have to look for them.

And make sure to ask what kinds they have. Samples are quite common.  After all, its not like they have to open a bottle for you!

As for the bottles in the Italian supermarkets, I'd say the average wine consumer will be quite pleased with any bottle 4 Euro and higher.  Almost every one I have tried reminds me of the quality of a $12-$15 bottle.

Antwerp, Belgium - City of Diamonds

Stop number one of the Belgian Beer Tour was at Belgium's second largest city if my facts are correct.  Antwerp had a decent number of excellent beer bars according to one of our research sources, www.beeradvocate.com. In addition to bars, it has quite a few attractions including a booming diamond-dealing district.  We thought this city would make an excellent first day to our trip because it was closest to Amsterdam, from which we traveled via train.

It took just 90 minutes on a high speed train, in first class I might add (Tip: Watch for some of those online deals on Thalys' website.  Our first class ticket was less expensive than a second class ticket because we traveled in the middle of the day.)  The free snacks and drinks made the time go by even faster. And the free entrance into the First Class lounge while waiting for the train in Amsterdam's Centraal Station made it even more rewarding.

We arrived on a dreary Sunday.  The clouds hung low threatening to rain.  We were pretty sure rain was headed our way.  Better get out the right shoes.  In my case, the only ones I owned that don't leak or have perforations in them that would allow my feet to get wet were my nice black suit shoes. They were the ones I "pounded the pavement" with, as some would say in the sales industry.  They were purchased for maximum comfort, looked nice with a suit and yet were highly functional in inclement weather. Since I haven't had need for cold calling businesses in quite some time, they would at least get some good use on rainy days during my journey.  And Antwerp offered just that.

Once we dropped off our packs in prison, I mean the hostel, it was time for the first bar of the day.

Time to try some authentic, craft Belgian beer which we had never heard of.

So we explained the Belgium Beer Tour to our waitress.

"Hello.  We are from America.  We are on a mission to try the best beers Belgium has to offer."

"Very good," she said. "What kind of beer do you like?"

"Every kind."

"Oh."

And then to be helpful instead of sassy we went into the styles of beers, colors preferred, tastes, amount of bitter or hoppiness preferred, etc., to help them find their idea of what we are looking for.

And she did great! Two new beers neither of us had tried before!

Luckily, we snacked on a waffle before we had that beer.  True Belgian waffles have sugar pockets mixed into the batter so when you bite into it, ooohhhhhh man are you rewarded with ooey gooey deliciousness. We tried one with chocolate also.  It was too rich for my tongue.

Time to go see the old part of the city.  The section with the large town square.  Maybe a church or two.

The rain came just as we thought.  It encouraged dryer activities such as going to other bars on our list. We showed our list of 100 Belgian beers that were the highest rated to the bartenders.  They were always interested in what we were looking for.  Some even recommended we go to their competitors.

They took their beer just as seriously as we did.  That is when we knew we made the right choice in trips.

Here's what we tasted that day:

1. Grimbergen Blonde
2. Jessenhofke Biere de Garde
3. Noir de Dottignies
4. Trappistes Rochefort 8
5. De Koninck
6. St. Bernardus Abbey Ale ABT 12
7. Duchesse de Bourgogne
8. Boon Oude Geuze
9. Bourgogne des Flanders

Belgium + 1 Week = Beer Lover's Dream

Last week, a good friend of mine who I have known since I was 13 years old met up with me for a planned week away from our families.  For what purpose? To enjoy the fruits of a Belgian monk's labor, so to speak.

Really, that statement is too limited in scope.  Never, ever in our wildest beer geek dreams would we limit a week's worth of beer testing to only the Trappist Abbeys so popularly known for their liquid money-maker all over the world.  Instead, this trip was a specially designed mission to learn about the culture, the history and the people of Belgium... through one glorious week of brewery tours and bar hopping.

You see, my friend is the reason I got into brewing. I remember vividly the first time we brewed a batch in his old St. Louis home.  The art was foreign to me.  It was like an initiation into a sacred ritual, one I came to respect and honor.

I believe to a certain degree my friend views brewing in a similar fashion.  There is something eerily satisfying about watching your yeast swirl around in a 5-gallon carboy (19 Liters) while it eats every available microscopic molecule of sugar, converting it to a much prized alcohol.  Its reaction creates a foam head that slowly bubbles through a safety lock to keep out contaminants.  I believe home brewers gain something from their hard work besides excellent beer.  It's a feeling of content, of happiness that you hand crafted something that can so easily go wrong.

Through their own trials and tribulations at home, home brewers learn that excellent beer is something to be respected and since myself and my buddy had never done one of those "post high-school international trips" to see the world and learn valuable life lessons, we thought, "Why not commemorate our 30th birthdays this year by engaging in a beer tour of Belgium?"

And so we did just that.  Sleeping in hostels, walking several miles around each city each day, brewery tours, sight seeing tours, cathedrals, museums, bars and restaurants.

Amsterdam, Netherlands first.

Then a train ride into Belgium to see Antwerp.

Ghent.

Brugge.

And finally Brussels.

Some days we were victorious.  Others, we were conquered.  That week, we lived a beer lover's dream.

Crepes in Paris

Finding the best crepes in Paris is like finding the best pizza in Rome.  So many places offer them, yet only a few stand out.

On my foodie adventure in Paris, one of the required "must-eats" was a crepe.  While we strolled a Christmas Market looking at all the foods and goodies offered, my expert and I realized we should start our first night out right: eat a Crepes Suzette. We saw this brightly lit vendor ready to create thin pancake deliciousness so we gave them a try.

 She expertly ladled the batter onto the griddle.

 A few circles and the crepe was properly spread out for even cooking.

 When it finished cooking, she moved it to the practice pile and added a little bit of sugar.

Then a little bit of Grand Marnier on the sugar.

 After a couple folds and a powdered sugar dusting on top, we were off with our order.

I must say.  It was absolutely TERRIBLE.  The picture at the top of the post suggests it might be good.  And it DID look good. But I am accustomed to Crepes Suzette being served flambee'd. Thankfully, no one tried to light it on fire while it was in my wife's hands!

I thought it was flambee'd for a reason. Perhaps burning off some of the alcohol is what makes the usually delicious crepe more mellow.  But this one, with its orange flavored alcohol at full power, was overwhelmed.  How sad.

The rest of our trip was dedicated to other foodie adventures so we didn't get a chance to experience any other creperies that were recommended by expert bloggers of the Paris food scene... except for one.

Enter: Breizh Cafe.

As always, we did our research to find one of the, if not the, best creperie in Paris.  And though we couldn't compare it to the other recommendations, our single experience easily stood out as our best meal in Paris.  And we ate pretty well during our three night trip! The staff was courteous and pleasant.  There was no hint of snootiness that I spoke french at the level of a 2-year-old.  Yes.  No. Thank you. More cider please.  You know, stuff a 2-year-old would say.

And the food itself, to die for.  Everything was clearly made with excellent ingredients.  How do you know?  Well, the kitchen is right there in the open next to the front door.  Can't miss it.  As you'll see later, I couldn't help but watch the chef in action.

 So what did we have?

 To start off, we had a bottle of hard cider instead of wine. Apparently in Brittany, France, where this cuisine presides, that is the most common beverage to accompany your crepe.  We prefer the dry kind of cider over the sweet kind, so they showed us the massive list and we chose the Sehedic.  Dry and ultra complex.  The yeast used for fermentation added some sort of unique flavor that reminded me of roquefort bleu cheese. Fascinating choice for the evening and complimented our foods well enough.

 Then came the fresh oysters.  Best I've ever had.  Easily.

Three each just wasn't enough.  Too bad oysters = $$$.

 Then, for the main entrees, Galettes.  Authentic galettes are made with buckwheat flour: darker and nuttier in flavor than normal wheat flour. This galette had egg, bacon, creme fraiche and emmenthaler cheese if I remember correctly.

This galette had egg, ham, gruyere cheese and caramelized onion.

And for dessert: Crepe Suzette - Breizh style!  Although this one had orange wedges on it, an amazing house made salted-butter caramel, AND it came out on fire.  The way it was meant to be made. Unfortunately, the picture didn't come out so well so please imagine it.

And for your entertainment, the management was kind enough to allow me to shoot a little kitchen entertainment.  Enjoy! As always, my apologies for the poor craftsmanship in videography as well as my inability to lower the volume!  Every video is loud loud loud!

When in Paris, or for that matter, their other locations in Tokyo or Cancale, visit Breizh Cafe for an unforgettable crepe experience.