Marisa Christensen, Holland America's associate vice president of food and beverage operations, directs guests to the line's Dive-In burger. 'It's made fresh to order, incredibly satisfying, and so easy to enjoy right after embarkation when you're settling in.'
In summer 1936, the French government passed a law that mandated paid holiday, a move that kickstarted the exodus of northerners to the Med every August, and it became a true emblem of the French vacances.
[To make] Cajun-style deviled eggs, which actually sounds like a great idea, I would mix Creole mustard, Cajun spice, and crispy andouille into the egg yolk mix and garnish a piece of crispy andouille on top with charred corn kernels or crispy fried onions as well.
Life in Newfoundland is tied to the sea. For nearly 500 years, people here pulled a seemingly endless supply of Atlantic cod from the waters of the Grand Banks, then one of the world's richest fishing grounds. But by the early 1990s, industrial bottom trawlers had decimated cod stocks, and in 1992, the Canadian government instituted a moratorium on cod fishing, devastating the industry and ending a long-standing way of life.
No introduction to Saint-Malo is complete without a stroll along the ramparts. These granite walls, rebuilt and reinforced over centuries, encircle the intra muros, the historic heart of the city by the port. The nearly two-kilometer circuit offers sweeping views of the Atlantic, the Fort National, and the distant Grand Bé. Walking the ramparts is like pacing the city's memory: narrow streets below hide cafés, boutique shops, and layers of architectural history.
Of the five mother sauces, velouté is extremely under-appreciated and not talked about enough. It's what we as Americans call gravy, which we know has so many various uses. Velouté, which means velvety in French, is made with a light roux (or a mixture of flour and fat, like butter), stock or broth, and some seasoning like salt and pepper, and a bay leaf.
The streets around the Louvre have improved considerably as a dining destination. It's still true that the neighborhood rewards those who know where to look - the blocks immediately adjacent to the museum are thick with tourist traps - but a short walk in almost any direction opens up genuinely good options.
The cooking is unpretentious and generous—big flavors, careful balance, no tweezers—at prices that feel increasingly rare in Paris. Standout dishes include a pheasant tourte with Morteau sausage and girolles, roasted beets with smoked eel and horseradish cream, and wild duck with a Porto jus and roasted parsnips.
Past a sign for a family waterpark, a door opens onto an homage to fin-de-siècle Paris. Chandeliers are reflected in gilt-edged mirrors; there is a chorus line of lobsters and yards of fromage. Every so often, a waiter in a dinner suit flambées a crepe Suzette with a shock of flames, like a big top fire-eater. This is fine dining as buffet.