Beef Cake.

Despite this post's name, I thought I'd forewarn you that there in no mention of hunky dudes or male strippers...

I know, I know, I'd be disappointed too...

Anyway....last night, Sebastien's friend Bertrand came by to make dinner for us and some of our friends. Before continuing on, can I just say that I love France? A friend coming by to cook is normal and doesn't sound as strange as it would be in the States. If one of my guy friends came by for dinner, for one, I certainly wouldn't expect him to prepare it - unless of course he was one of those culinary types who can whip up a Michelin star meal using a dopple of mustard, a can of tuna and egg whites - and two, I'd expect the meal to be some form of take-out.
But no, not in Paris where Bertrand came armed with goodies he picked up at the open air market earlier that day. In his little burlap sack there was a package of ground beef, onions, parsley, garlic cloves, potatoes, three deliciously oozy and aromatic cheeses, organic red wine, and two baguettes peaking out the top.
As I expected, dinner was divine, except for one little, hmmm, okay, I don't exactly want to call it a problem, but something did catch my eye. So let's start by saying that potatoes were cooked to pure perfection. Atkins be damned! These little thigh stickers were golden, thinly sliced, and perfectly seasoned with the spices our friends brought us back from their vacation in Corsica. The cheese plate was elegantly arranged on a cutting board surrounded by convenient pre-cut baguette slices. The salad was fresh and crisp, tossed with Seb's secret homemade vinaigrette that he guards like gold, but the meat, well the meat stayed raw...completely raw, doing nothing in the corner while the other foods worked their butts off to prepare us a nice meal. To add insult to injury, Bertrand cracked a raw egg on it, just to make sure we were covering all of the bacterial diseases caused from raw food. Ecoli? Check. Salmonella? Why not.
I know, I'm acting like I just arrived in Paris, and I have ordered steak tartare in restaurants before, but I guess I was never fully aware denial of how exactly it was prepared. Yes, I get that it's raw but I guess I was hoping that it was a figure of speech, and that there was some form of preparation. Even 10 seconds in the oven would have justified a plate of raw meat with an egg plopped on top that everyone seemed to be woofing down like cannibals.
While I don't mind picking at raw meat when I'm making burgers, but serving myself a large plate of it? I guess there's no difference, but the American in me just couldn't do a full portion. To err on the side of well, safety, I made myself mini patty...of red, raw meat.
If you're at all enticed by this, I've included the recipe just for you on this gorgeous Friday afternoon.
Warning: This may be a bit too advanced for beginners.
 Step 1:Add chopped onions and parsley,
and smash meat. Step 2:Make little cakes by cupping it with a bowl.
Step 3: Serve.Can you guess which one is mine?
Rocket Science, I know. If you could make this dish, well I'd say that you're well on your way to Le Cordon Bleu! 
Last night was certainly a shocker but it's good to know that there is still so much to discover in Paris. Thank God, I was getting worried there.
Bon week-end!