Le Marmite: Thank God for the French (Well, Sometimes)

Le Marmite
#80, Oknha Ing Bun Hoaw, St 108, Corner of Peam (St 51)
023 998 161


Phnom Penh has a lot of French restaurants - not surprising, for a former French colony. A French friend of mine, who lives in Thailand, says he comes to Cambodia mostly to eat good French food. I'm certainly not complaining about the ready availability of boeuf bourguignon, crepes, and steak frites in this part of the world.

Le Marmite is a rather worthy contender in the PP French food scene, located in a somewhat out of the way spot close to Wat Phnom. It's on a kind of seedy looking block and looks less than sexy from the outside - which kept me away for a while - but is very salubrious and contemporary on the inside.

The menu hits up all the usual French classics—alongside a good selection of pasta— with a lot of revolving specials, and is quite reasonably priced. Naturally, there's a good wine list.



These little pastries containing gorgonzola and ham were absolutely fantastic, served alongside a small, garlicky salad. Buttery puff-pastry and a healthy amount of cheese: would order again. I'm kind of fantasizing about them right now.



My tragically lactose-intolerant boyfriend went with the spaghetti bolognese, which was quite good and prepared in the traditional (read: not painfully saturated with tomato) style. Portion sizes are not huge here, as my boyfriend observed, although nothing is ever quite large enough for a very tall Iowa boy transplanted to the Land of Tiny Things (and people).

More buffet coverage coming soon to a blog near you. Actually, Phnom Penh has a pretty healthy number of all-you-can eat places, though they must be hunted for, at least more so than in the USA.

St James Cheese Company: THE REVENGE (of good sandwiches)

St James Cheese Company
5004 Prytania St
New Orleans, LA 70115
(504) 899-4737




So my trip to New Orleans turned into Greatest Sandwiches Tour: 2011. I don't exactly mind. After all, this is the city of Great Sandwiches, or at least one of the greatest sandwich cities on the planet.

A great place to eat a great sandwich is St James Cheese Company, New Orleans's beloved neighborhood cheese shop. I used to live right up from St James, on St Charles, and it was awfully convenient. They do cheese-and-wine special dinners on a regular basis and I'd head up to those with friends sometimes.

St James isn't just a restuarant,after all - it's also a Cheese Education Center of sorts, and the staff will answer esoteric questions about the origin and provenance of any given dairy product. There's other stuff on offer as well - artisan pickles, deli meats, cheese boards and other speciality kitchen equipment, Mexican chocolate, all manner of preserves, and a lot of other items that could conceivably go nicely with cheese. It's all twee enough to belong in the Bay Area, I'm not gonna lie, but it's also a damn good cheese shop. They did a plate for my graduation dinner and it was a big hit. A certain professor of mine likes picking up one of their big catering samplers with cheese and bread and bring it to the last day of glass, outside on the lawn. It's probably an effort to get awesome performance review sheets.

They have a order-at-the-counter cafe that enjoys extremely popularity among society types in New Orleans, as well as a smattering of hipsters with incomes (well, it's true), and people like myself and my friends going out for an occasional splurge. The menu is sandwiches, cheese and charcuterie boards, and salads, and they'll slap a cheese on a plate for you with a knife and some bread if you find one you like behind the counter. It's a simple affair, and pleasantly so. Sometimes they take a bit. One wonders how long it takes to assemble a cheese plate.



There's a dreadful lack of avocados in Cambodia, and I ate a hell of a lot of avocado back in the USA. The Beecher's Cheddar sandwich ($8.95) is my favorite here, mainly because it's got avocado, turkey, some good sharp cheddar, tomato, and a little bit of basil, all on chewy ciabatta. Get them to melt that sucker for you, and you'll be in heaven.

We also got a free cheese plate - they do that kind of thing - and that's one of the best things to order here. ($10.50 for 3 cheeses, $16.50 for five). A selection of good cheeses dependant upon what the stafff feels like feeding you that day, and they'll explain it to you when you bring it out. On a recent visit, we sampled some fantastic goat cheese rolled in cracked black pepper, some gouda, a couple of interesting sheep's milk cheeses and a couple other selections (yeah, should have kept notes). They switch up the accompaniments from fig jam to blueberry jam to walnuts to whatever is on tap that day, which keeps it interesting. It's a cultural experience and it's also eating cheese. They've been doing a cheese-and-chocolate plate of late to be different and that sounds entirely promising.

The salads are pretty great as well. I especially like the manchego with pear, Spanish almonds, and quince dressing ($9.50) mostly because it reminds me of having breakfast in Spain, assembled into a single entity over some greens. (And pears are great. As my friend Kelsey observed, "The closest thing the fruit world has to candy. That's why I actually like them). The parmesan reggiano salad with salami, artichoke hearts, and olives is also formidable, though be careful because those son-bitches have pits.

They've got wine and a lot of different kinds of artisan beers, since this is New Orleans, and there must be libations. It's a nice way to pass a hot afternoon, killing a bottle of white and eating an inordinate amount of cheese. I suggest it.

The Presidency and Really Big Cheese

I cannot actually vouch for Jefferson's opinion on the Packers, but I do know he looks hilarious in a cheese head hat.

In 1802, Thomas Jefferson was gifted a 16,000 pound cheese. Cheshire's Baptist pastor, one Elder John Leland, brainstormed the effort as a way to show his appreciation to the Republican President he had worked to elect - and also as an effort to stick it to his Federalist enemies. Baptists, at this particular juncture in American history, were both a beleaguered minority and ardent supporters of the separation of church and state. How things do change.

The cheese was created from the milk of every single cow in the small Massachusetts town of Cheshire, barring, of course, the Federalist owned bovines, "lest it should leaven the whole lump with a distasteful savour." At Leland's direction, the immense chunk of dairy bore one of Jefferson's own mottos: ""Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God."

Leland, however, did not consider the issue of transporting his cheesy monstrosity all the way to the Capital. As it turned out, the cheese was simply too big to be transported on wheels. But the cheese was created in winter, and Leland found a way. The dogged pastor ended up transporting his highly patriotic cheese on a sledge, all 500 miles to Washington. The cheese was delivered, appropriately, on January 1st 1802. Although the cheese garnered criticism from Leland's Baptist hatin' enemies, Jefferson was properly appreciative. He deemed the big-ass cheese an "extraordinary proof of the skill with which those domestic arts...are practiced by [the citizens of Cheshire]." In a private letter to his son-in-law, Jefferson went even further in his praise of the delicious gesture. "It is an ebullition of the passion of republicanism in a state where it has been under heavy persecution." The cheese remained in the White House as late as 1806 according to some accounts, at which time it was (shockingly) "very far from good." Perhaps Jefferson grew attached to it.

A statue saluting Leland and his magnificent cheese was erected in Cheshire in 1940. I smell a photo op!

But this was not the only incident of giant-cheese-making in the history of the American presidency.


I'm surprised no one lost a limb in the melee.

The populist Andrew Jackson featured 1,400 pound block of cheddar cheese at his last open White House party. Gifted to him by a supportive New York dairy farmer, the cheese was allowed to age for almost two years in the White House. Although the cheese was vast, the appetite of the people was greater. It is rumored that the cheese took no more then two hours to entirely disappear, and that the White House stank of cheese for week on end. (Incidentally, does Jackson remind anyone else of Sarah Palin? Run to Wikipedia real quick, then get back to me).

A detailed description of this magical event is found in "Real Life in the White House" by John and Claire Whitcomb.

""Shops and offices closed early, and a throng descended on the White House. The marshal of the city and his deputies screened people at the front door, but what a contemporary called 'rag-a-muffins of the city' got into the gardens, climbed to the terrace, and entered through the East Room windows to mix with congressmen, officers in dress uniform, and elaborately arrayed diplomats. The rooms overflowed with people, until the hall, the doorway, every possible space, were filled...The cheese was demolished in two hours; the White House floors and carpets were likewise demolished, and the mansion reeked of cheddar for months."



This is Calvin Coolidge. And this is his cat. Cats have nothing to do with cheese, but the Internet sure seems to like them.

One more big-ass cheese has entered the glorious gates of the White House. In 1928, "Silent Cal" Coolidge received a 140 pound Wisconsin made Swiss cheese - rather dwindling in comparison to the behemoths of his predecessors, but still worthy of eating with crackers. . Coolidge doubtless appreciated the gift, being an ardent cheese lover himself. He maintained a private stash of the stuff at the White House, nipping into it occasionally, one imagines, when the stress of farm subsidies became too great. (Seriously, his presidency was just that boring).

In more recent times, "Big Block of Cheese Day" was referenced on the White Wing. Apparently the ever-dashing Martin Sheen, in his simulated presidency, would host a day for usually over-looked interest groups to enter the white house, and presumably, nibble on the metaphorical cheese of Presidential attention. Or something like that.

It is evident that ridiculously huge blocks of cheese have played an important role in American history. Indeed, we may credit giant blocks of cheese with many of our successes as a sovereign nation. The great pageant of American history may not have been possible without the existence - and service - of these gigantic congealed chunks o' dairy. It is certain that these cheeses provided comfort and nutrition to both Presidents and common people, in need of savory succor in times of hardship, depression, and uncertainty.

So who wants to go in with me on a monstrously huge chunk o' Brie for Obama?

Anyone?

Stop making cricket noises.

St James Cheese Company Friday Night Tastings

The St. James Cheese Company hosts Friday Night Tastings on occasion, wherein New Orleans most beloved cheese shop stays open into the evening, dishing out free cheese samples and serving the usual menu alongside I can think of few better ways to open up a good night of NOLA drinking then here: with stinky cheese, delicious small plates, and some good company. A brief account follows.



We sidled up to the cheese counter to try the evening's free sample, Ubriaco al Vino Rosso from Treviso, near Venice. It's a cow's milk cheese dipped and washed in red wine pressings, giving it a distinctively fruity tinge.



The flavor is pleasantly strong and fills the mouth. A real winner. (The Italian cheese was selected in honor of St. James cofounder Richard and cheesemonger Casey, who were on their way to the Slow Food Cheese event in Bra).




A delightful cheese sampler, composed of what the cheese monger felt looked tasty today. Top left is Garrotxa, a Spanish (Catalonia) unpasteurized goat's milk cheese, with a delicate, nutty, and smooth flavor profile. Our friend in the middle is Shropshire, an unusual English blue cheese with a tangy flavor and a sharp, creamy personality. It is widely considered to be a cross between Stilton and Cheshire cheese, but I am really startlingly under-qualified to comment on that. This one hails from Neil's Yard Dairy Bottom right is Tarantaise cheese, an artisan product hailing from Thistle Hill Farm in North Pomfret, Vermont, with a sharp and distinctive flavor.

We very much enjoyed the sweet and spicy pepper jelly, the fresh figs, and the wheat crackers served with the cheeses. A fine cheese plate, and reasonably priced at eleven dollars.



This was the evening's small plate special: mashed fava beans with lemon, topped with burrata mozzarella. I found this delicious, but my friends weren't so keen on it. I think the combination of uber-green and fresh favas with fatty, rich burrata, good olive oil, and tangy lemon juice was inspired, myself.



A panzanella salad with parmagiano-reggiano, fresh figs, and walnuts, alongside little cubes of toasted garlic french bread, in a muscadine dressing. This was pretty delightful, though I suspect the inherent tastiness of fresh figs cast a positive spin on the entire affair. The muscadine dressing was actually a little too subtle - I know that most gourmet places live in eternal fear of overdressing their salad, but I would have liked to taste it!

They'll be doing these Friday Night Tastings on a regular basis, as well as some special dinners. Get thyself on their mailing list, or lo, suffer the consequences. Something like that.

- F.G