For years now, the Shan family has been serving up some of the finest Szechuan and Cantonese cuisine in France. Yes, in France. Their restaurant lies behind lively Place de la Victoire, at the end of rue Sainte-Catherine, the longest pedestrian street in Europe. At the helm are brothers Tommy, a scholar of Chinese cuisine who expertly manages the dining room, and André, a genius in the kitchen. Together they showcase some of the most complex and exotic flavors of the Far East. The tasting menu is a good way to sample the specialties of the house. Be sure not to miss the fish seasoned with "poivre anesthésiant."

Foie gras has been an integral part of gourmet cuisine since ancient times. The Romans, and long before them the Egyptians, force-fed geese with figs, and one can easily imagine that foie gras was part of the menu at banquets and other Bacchic celebrations. In Aquitaine, foie gras has an almost mythical stature; as chef André Daguin has said, it’s "a condiment of infinite possibilities."

Foie gras producers in southwestern France are taking great pains to revive the methods of their ancestors. Recipes are passed down from family to family, from hamlet to village, eventually making their way to the city. From grocery stores to market stands, foie gras is everywhere. It has a streamlined shape, a texture both supple and firm to the touch and a pearlescent color with an orangey cast, evoking sensuality and pleasure. Its flavor is inimitable—refined, mild yet flavorful, at once delicate and potent. All these qualities fire the imagination of the great chefs of the Southwest. Not a day goes by without one of them finding a new way to prepare foie gras.

Foie gras cooks quickly—it’s the Formula One of fine cuisine. Relatively affordable these days, it appears in all sorts of incarnations. Still, we mustn’t forget the classic recipes of our grandmothers. Gourmets have always enjoyed foie gras in terrine form, with a glass of Monbazillac; raw, fresh from the duck; thinly sliced on a piece of toast with a sprinkling of gros sel; pan-fried and served with apples, grapes, cherries or what have you; stuffed inside a warm pork pâté on a chilled tomato coulis; with roasted game birds; en papillote, seasoned only with salt and pepper; cooked in a vegetable broth; in a light white bean soup; in soft-boiled eggs; with mushrooms and pasta in the popular macaronade; or simply grilled.

Foie gras is a gift from the gods, so go ahead and indulge in this symbol of the Aquitaine good life. Here’s a simple recipe: Buy a whole liver and cut it into pieces of about 100g each. Simmer the vegetables of your choice—carrots, turnips and leeks work well—in a good, flavorful broth. When the vegetables are ready, reduce the liquid a little. Put the vegetables back in the pot, along with the foie gras, which will take no more than five or six minutes to cook, then transfer to a serving dish. Leave most of the broth in the pot; after skimming off some of the fat you can use it to make a wonderful vermicelli soup.