Snowy Return to Paris

And a Gorgeous Galette des Rois

Discussing the weather usually signals there is nothing else to talk about, but when we looked out the window, then raced downstairs and walked out the door in Paris and nearly bumped into the garbage bins be-decked with 4 inches of snow, felt the crunch of new snow under our feet and the pin-pricks of teeny snowflakes on our faces, it was an event. Not like a kidnapping or government overthrow, but like a wondrous and magical thing that, though it is winter, is entirely unexpected here. And it’s great snow, too, as an impromptu snowball fight proved.

The snow is a nice way to be welcomed back to Paris after the holidays in Texas, which were richer than ever, and weirder than ever, weather wise. We wore shorts and t-shirts most of the time, until the 30 degrees drop in temperature that had us running for the sweaters and overcoats. What does all this weather mean? I don’t ask myself.

Rather, I’d like to discuss the many layers of Texas we experienced while there. I probably do this each time I return, because visits there offer the unexpected. This time the range was wide and broad. We were greeted by our Georgian friends/family, with whom we overlapped just for the time of a meal, which really qualified as a feast. After hugs and cheek pinches all around, we sat at the table, which was laden with dishes, from pkhali, a blend of spinach, ground walnuts and the quadrumvirate of coriander, marigold, fenugreek and spicy pepper, for this meal set delicately into tart shells of the exceptional cornbread native to Georgia, to skhmeruli, a creamy, dreamy chicken dish, golden-baked salmon and crudités for the holiday fasters, cured meats and a variety of Georgian cheeses, and the velvety, almost chewy Georgian red from my daughter-in-law’s cousin at Vellino winery, in Kakheti. Most of the ingredients come from Georgia with the steady flow of Georgians who return home on a regular basis, and we’re looking forward next visit to tasting my daughter-in-law’s father’s wonderful wine, which will soon be bottled in glass. For now, it comes to us in plastic bottles filled to the rim and it’s already luscious; I cannot wait to taste it from a bottle.

One evening we decided to go out for dinner, leaving our three-year-old (she is actually mine, but her parents don’t yet know this) with Georgian friends. As we drove away from their house, my son said, “Just saying, you have to be prepared when we pick up Susie that we’ll get the Georgian hospitality treatment,” and indeed we did. But I’m getting ahead of myself, because our dinner destination was a strip mall where the hidden treasure of Heian Japanese restaurant (@heian.mckinney) hides its game. Sitting at the bar and watching the almost military-like chefs work, we had the best sushi I think I’ve ever had. Made primarily with fish flown in that day from Japan, leaves of nori that crackled with crispness (they use three layers there instead of the typical two for their sushi and temaki hand rolls), miso soup that tasted richly of freshness and health, and a running discourse on the smoked fish eggs, the caramelized garlic, the fresh wasabi and the rice laced with yuzu zest from the Korean born sushi chef. My favorites were the softshell crab, and the chutoro (medium fatty tuna) handrolls.

We left sated and happy, to arrive at the Georgian home where Joe’s prediction came true. We were enveloped by three generations of the family who live there, shown to the table which had a platter of freshly made, giant choux pastries on it. Tea was poured, wine and whiskey were offered, and a platter of hot from the griddle khatchapuri were brought in as one by one family members returned from their late-night jobs to join us so that soon, it was a big party with children running in and out. I now know that as in France where there is always room for cheese, so in Georgia (Texas), there is always room for choux and khatchapuri and the loving warmth of a big, Georgian family.

I had a hankering to roast a lamb shoulder, and my daughter-in-law insisted we go to her favorite store, Oasis International Market in Plano to get the meat. I’ve been there many times and from the minute I pass the overflowing crates of citrus outside and enter the bustling, rambling, warehouse-like building whose aisles are bulging with crates of every variety of date, more citrus, persimmons, medlars and more, I am captivated. Navigating the aisles and the jostling the multitudes is a bit like circling the Arc de Triomphe in a car, and there is no way one would suspect, if one didn’t know, that Texas was outside the doors. After passing aisles loaded with every possible toasted grain and nut, Middle Eastern coffees and olive oils, turnips the size of baseballs and mountains of fresh herbs, Swiss chard, peppers of every size and hue, we reached the butcher section. I waved at someone behind the blurry window and she came running, asked what I wanted, then disappeared to reappear moments later with a long, skinny lamb shoulder and leg swinging in her hand, which she gave to the nearby band saw operator who was cutting goat meat into stew-size pieces. He wanted to do the same with the shoulder, but I waved my hands and she poked her head out. “Just one cut,” I said and in seconds the two pieces were in my hands, and I was on my way. Once home, I rubbed the meat with a blend of olive oil, coffee grounds and garlic, set it to macerate for a day, then roasted and served it with roasted vegetables and – out of context, I know - Yorkshire pudding. It was scrumptiously tender and delicious.

Several eating spots were closed for the holidays, but we made our now bi-annual visit to El Ranchito in the Bishop Arts District of Dallas where the spicy goat stew and the table-side guacamole won the prizes for best of menu. We had other adventures too. We spent a day in downtown Dalls with a couple who are raising pork near Paris, Texas, using regenerative methods which, if the fat pork chop we had is an example, should win them national prizes. And a highlight was witnessing longhorn cattle and cowboys ambling down the main street of the Fort Worth’s Stockyard District, then sitting ourselves down for a giant steak and baked potato lunch. Walking out of the restaurant, my daughter turned to me and said, “I think I’ve eaten a lifetime full of meat since we came here.” Hear hear.

The thing that makes these visits exceptional, aside from getting to spend an extended time with my precious family, is the diversity of experiences, people, and food, the many cultures and ideologies we meet when there. I hand it to a country that absorbs all of this, to my son and his family who seek out interesting discourse, to people who are trying to make their corners of the world better. There is much to mull over once home, much to read and consider. And in our case, much to savor, as we did for our first meal back home in Paris, when we pulled out the frozen tamales from the McKinney farmer’s market and boiled them as specified. Like the sushi from the strip mall, I have never tasted better.

Holidays are memory-makers, and this was no exception as I imagine many of us can say. I feel so fortunate to know the adults my children have become, to meet and be part of their social circles, to greet a new member of the family who is bursting with life, laughter, and a most whimsical sense of humor that keeps us in stitches.

I wish you all a Happy, Healthy, Prosperous 2026. Keep up your spirits and be inspired by John Ruskin, 19th century poet and pioneering conservationist:

“I wish you some new love of the lovely things and some new forgetfulness of the teasing things and some higher pride in the praising things, and some sweeter peace from the hurrying things and some closer fence from the worrying things.” (particularly the last part).

Bonne Année, Bonne Santé, et Bon Appétit!

Because today is Epiphany when we traditionally celebrate with a Galette des Rois, or King’s Cake, I offer you here my recipe.

GALETTE DES ROIS - KINGS CAKE

ASTUCE: if you can’t find almond powder/flour, simply grind ½ cup of almonds with about 1 tablespoon of the sugar called for in the almond cream recipe. Then, measure out the mixture – you should have just the right amount! Be sure to warn your guests that there is something hard inside the galette so teeth don’t suffer! And if you are in Paris, the best galette can be found at Max Poilâne bakery, 87 rue Brançion, open every day but Christmas from 7:30 to 8:15 pm, except Sundays when it opens at 8 a.m.

For the pastry:

1 pound (500g) puff pastry

For the almond cream:

4 tablespoons (1/2 stick;60g) unsalted butter, softened

1/3 cup (65g) vanilla sugar

1 large egg

1 tablespoon all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

4 or 5 drops bitter almond extract, or to taste

½ cup (75g) finely ground almonds (also called almond flour or powder)

For the egg glaze:

1 egg

2 teaspoons water

1. Roll out the puff pastry to a very thin (1/8 inch; 1/4 cm) rectangle. Cut out one 10-inch (25cm) round and one 10-1/2 inch (26.25cm) round. Place them on a baking sheet and refrigerate for 30 minutes. Reserve the scraps for another use.

2. Prepare the almond cream: in a medium-sized bowl, whisk the butter with the sugar until it is soft and well combined. (If you’ve used some of the sugar to grind whole almonds into powder, whisk in the remaining sugar with the butter). Whisk in the egg until the mixture is light, then whisk in the all-purpose flour, the vanilla extract and the bitter almond extract until thoroughly combined.

3. Stir in the almond flour gently until it is blended into the mixture.

4. Whisk together the egg and the water, for the egg wash

5. Preheat the oven to 425F (220C).

6. Assemble the galette: Remove the pastry rounds from the refrigerator. Place the cream in the center of the smaller round, and spread it out, leaving it thicker in the center, until it is about 2-1/2 inches (6-1/2 cm) from the edge of the pastry. If you’re going to place a fève in the galette, now is the time. Cover the almond cream with the apple slices, in a single layer. Top with the second round of pastry, lining up the edges with the bottom round of pastry.

7. Brush the galette with the egg wash then, using the blade of a very sharp knife, score the top of the galette, going nearly all the way through the pastry. Using the back of a knife blade (the dull edge), press it into the edges of the galette at regular intervals to make a scalloped edge. This helps the pastry rise evenly.

8. Bake the galette in the center of the oven until it is golden and puffed, and baked all the way through, 25 to 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool for 20 minutes before serving.

Serves 6 to 8