Eating Chocolate with Eric Ripert

The blog is back. After doing battle with spotty or non-existent hotel internet connections in Europe, and no power at all for six days in NYC, I have returned to my post, to post.  To draw a line under the gloomy week that was, I was happy to get an invitation to Ardesia, Mandy Oser's lovely midtown winebar, for the launch of a special edition chocolate from Éclat. The bars, called Good & Evil (dark chocolate + cocoa nibs), were a collaboration between Éclat and chefs Eric Ripert and Anthony Bourdain.  Smoky truffles from Éclat, at Ardesia. Ripert and chocolatier Christopher Curtain were on hand to talk up the creation, which began, Curtain told me, with the blessing of the mayor of a Peruvian town too secret to name. His video, here, does a better job of illuminating their tree-to-bean-to-bar adventures. When I met him last year for our Smart Chefs interview, the Le Bernardin chef was forthcoming about his love of chocolate, and how it fits in -- daily -- to his balanced way of eating.

"I love dessert, but I don't eat dessert at night. I eat dark chocolate -- I have no problem to eat it before I go to bed or in the morning.  If you go to my office now you'll freak out; I have that much chocolate. But I can have one or two squares -- a little piece. I have this discipline about it." 

We did look in his office, and there was a lot of chocolate, all dark (though with varied flavors), and all in bars, stacked up on the credenza. This is a good way to go about it: Get the best chocolate you can find, keep it handy, and don't make a big deal about having just a little everyday.  "A lot of journalists ask, 'What's your guilty pleasure.' I have no guilt," said Ripert. "To me it is inconceivable to have guilt about eating. If you feel guilt, it's not edifying."

So, Good & Evil, sure. Guilt, never.

Other People's Cookbooks

This is (a very poor cellphone shot of) the library in the offices of Le Bernardin, Eric Ripert’s four-star temple to seafood in Midtown Manhattan. We did our interview for the book in the conference room, which is underground in the labyrinth below the restaurant. The books, which are the overflow from Ripert’s extensive home cookbook collection, lined an entire wall, and my eyes kept going to them, trying to read the spines and get a sense of his tastes, which range from the giant (and in my experience impenetrable)  tome from NOMA to Molly O’Neill’s homey New York Cookbook. He doesn’t cook from them, of course. They are there for Ripert and his staff to get inspiration or enjoy some armchair travel. This makes me feel better about my own over-stuffed cookbook collection, which already contains more recipes than I could prepare in a lifetime. Unlike Chef Ripert, I do cook from books, often. But even though I have shelves full, I keep returning to a few favorites (some of which I can spot in this photo).  What are some of yours?