|Kale-as-table-decor. Always a good idea!|
|Amelie lets me grill her while she preps the plates.|
We found Amelie's place easily; it was a mere fifteen-minute walk from our front door, up the street that sidles along the old graffiti-plastered rail-road tracks and into the 18e arrondissement. In a mid-century apartment complex, up several flights of steps, we were ushered into a bright and airy living space with pleasant green views out the windows and clean, modern decor indoors.
Amelie, who lived and studied in Canada for several years, let me grill her about her raw experience while she prepped the plates for the brunch's six paying guests. She also put up with my ooh-ing and ah-ing over her high-tech dehydrator and other pretty, utilitarian cooking accoutrements.
The dining area was divided into two spaces: A small table for two on one side of the room, and a roomier table for four on the other. Both tables had been set with plates, utensils, and an intriguing melange of edible treats.
|Raw granola, fruit compote, apple-rosemary apples, and dehydrated chocolate-and-nut bars!|
|One of several herbal infusions offered to guests.|
|Still life with ginger.|
a raw chocolate-making class over the summer. She's Italian and very bubbly. I love listening to her speak French with her heavy Napolitan accent. Right behind her was the final invitee, a tall, friendly, stylishly dressed woman who drove in from the suburbs to share the dining experience.
|The lovely salt we didn't get to try.|
|This raspberry-tinted elixir was made with beets, berries, apples, and other tasty fruits and veggies.|
|Palma contemplates her plat principal.|
|Raw granola with banana, nuts, and spelt. I could have eaten a kilo of this stuff. It was served with home-made almond milk.|
None of us knew whether the stuff at the table, which had a dessert-y look about it, was meant to be eaten then or at the end of the meal, but all of our hands migrated to the little glasses of granola and even tinier glasses of home-made almond milk, and the miniature cups of dehydrated apples with rosemary. We made a collective, if silent, decision to leave the compote with the chocolatel-y looking thing on top for the end.
At last, the plat principal arrived; a savory layered confection with a hint of curry flavor and a soft, flax-seed crust. I loved the fresh flavor of the root-vegetable "noodles," the turnip greens, and the soft, dehydrated squash. It needed a bit of salt, but nothing more.
|The piece de resistance.|