Today, I'm putting my wellness tune on pause and embarking on a journey that's equal parts heart and appetite. Life's recipe isn't just about squats and salads, serums and EMS sweat sessions. No, it's a layered dish, served under the sauce of love, family, and culture. It's about embracing life's balance and savoring every sip it offers. I am taking a detour on this holistic highway to visit the one who taught me about life's flavors long before I discovered the art of a perfect plank.

Time's danced on my dad’s face, leaving wrinkles that tell tales of laughter, wisdom, and life fully lived. My father, who once traveled continents to visit me, now finds those wings a bit too fragile to carry him across oceans. So, it's my turn. While I cherish these intimate moments of family reunion as my two older brothers and their families join us as well, I won't neglect my passion as a culinary explorer. Paris and Israel, both on the menu. With that being said, I hope to share and weave stories that extend far beyond the plate.

There it is - the journey ahead is a blend of filial love, cultural connection, and gastronomic escapades. A memoir in motion, a diary of dishes, and a tribute to the holistic life we're all chasing in our unique ways. Stick around, indulge your curiosity, and let's explore the world – one bite, one memory, and one moment at a time. Bon appétit and l'chaim!

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Paris - Day One

As the wheels of the plane touched down in the city of romance, I felt a familiar sense of excitement tinged with the promise of culinary discovery. The streets of Paris, usually bustling, had a distinct calmness to them, as if the entire population had migrated to the sun-soaked beaches. It was as if the city itself was taking a deep breath, preparing for the gastronomic whirlwind that was about to unfold.

Emerging from the airport, the warm embrace of the Parisian August greeted me. The facades of the houses were soaked with the warmth of afternoon sun and seemed to be flirting with me and urging to embark on a leisurely stroll. The lazy hues of the season adorned every corner enhancing the city's inherent charm with a touch of ethereal romance. But, of course, my culinary instincts couldn't stay dormant for long. Brief stop to get a gift for someone special led me to a local, yet well known around the world perfumery shop, where browsing through an array of senteurs de parfum felt like a prelude to the opening night of the gastronomic adventure that awaited me.

There were three dots on the epicurean map that I carefully selected to explore and evaluate while staying in Paris for a weekend – one for each night. The selection criteria were a combination of several factors such as elegance, coziness, inventiveness. In essence - quality over quantity, personality over glitz, creativity over publicity.

And then, there it was, first door to open - Au Passage. The very name conjured anticipation, and as I stepped through the doorway, I knew I was about to embark on a voyage through taste and texture that would linger in my memory.

The First Act

The journey commenced with a starter that transcended mere sustenance – a tomato creation adorned with purple basil, fried capers, and a whisper-thin slices of nectarine. What a refreshing revelation! The whipped sheep cheese added a luxurious creaminess that danced with the other elements on the plate. But it was the glass of orange wine that truly stole the spotlight – skin contact had imbued it with a depth that resonated with every sip. In the realm of natural and biodynamic wines that grace Au Passage cellar, this le vin orange deserves a few drops of inc.  Nestled in the enchanting Montblanc village in Languedoc-Roussillon, Aymeric and Jordan, two vineyard-rooted brothers, blend worlds. At their core, they embrace hands-on craftsmanship, sustaining organic and biodynamic rhythms that harmonize with nature's chorus. The marvel was an unadulterated testament for appreciation at any table. The first pair served was Michelin-worthy without the ostentation, a true symphony for the taste buds.

The Second Act

The second course unveiled another revelation – veal tartar that was carefully marinated and was accompanied by radicchio luxuriating in bright green olive oil. To us, Miami dwellers, this presentation was undoubtedly reminiscent of a ceviche dish. Needless to say, the meat presence elevated typical ceviche lightness. The marriage of flavors was enchanting, and the pairing with Franz Saumon's white blend was pure wizardry. Then again, it would be unfair not to mention the producer of the blend, the exemplary Franz Sauman. The game of blending could sometimes be a thin ice experience but Franz executes it with perfection. Two gems in a bottle that are hardly know by the New World readers and Loir Valley wine connoisseurs - Menu Pineau and Romorantin. First one was widely cultivated in Touraine since the beginning of the 16th century in Touraine, Loir Valley region, and has today been almost entirely replaced with Sauvignon Blanc but is still used in blends to its low acidity naturally balance higher acidity grapes. Romorantin has quite interesting birth story as well being brought from Burgundy (think Chardonnay) to the Loire by François I to develop its vineyards and improve the quality of its wines. Quite a fascinating finale and hat’s off to Franz for being a persuasive wine alchemist and for challenging taste buds with an amazing combination of never ending love and history sealed in every bottle.

The Third Act

The experience, thus far, had already surpassed my expectations. As the journey continued, I found myself exploring the landscape of flavors through a plate of langue de boeuf. The entrance was made by a delicate yet impeccably well-structured Cinsault (or Senzo! with the elusive “n” in the middle, as the French affectionately pronounce it) that immediately took command of the stage. As I immersed into the first sip of the native of the South of France native, it’s simple, almost understated notes lingered on the tongue for a surprisingly extenuated time as a prelude to the arrival of the thinly sliced veal tongue with spicy mayo and pimiento peppers. As Valerie Courreges, the mother-wine-maker exclaimed: “We have bottled the Dolce Vita!” - I could have not agreed more with this accord of satisfaction. On the nose, a burst of untamed wildflowers, a fragrant explosion. In the glass: an exquisite elixir delight, an embodiment of grace and elegance. As far as the plate appearance, there was no Michelin grandeur, no intricate color palette – just a trail that spoke of love, devotion, and mastery of taste. Every bite resonated with the tight texture, the salt-kissed edge of the mayo, and the fiery charm of the peppers. It was an unpretentious masterpiece that left me craving more.

Epilogue

In the spirit of equilibrium, I resisted the allure of desserts and cheese, knowing that perfection had already been achieved. I departed with the promise to return, eager to embrace the sweet finale on my next visit.

As I observed other diners, I recognized a shared appreciation for this hidden gem in a tranquil alley. The owner's absence led to an enriching conversation with Barbara, the bartender – a woman in her young forties or fifties whose elegance and tattoos belied a wealth of insight. We spoke of half-empty Paris in August drawing unimaginable but yet discoverable parallels between Montmartre and Chelsea. While words hung in the air, it was the unspoken camaraderie that spoke loudest. Beyond the surface, we delved into the world of winemakers, the custodians of flavor, and the artisan suppliers who helped shaping the dining experience into an intimate memory.

So, there you have it, a day in Paris, rich with flavors, colors, and connections. An exploration that, like the finest wine, lingered on the palate of memory, reminding once again that food is the bridge that connects cultures, emotions, and the very essence of being human. Until the next chapter of this gastronomic odyssey, bon appétit.