It’s been 5 weeks since I arrived in Paris with 2 small suitcases, keys to an Airbnb rental (first time ever) and a blank slate. Albeit unnerving, the onus on me, there’s freedom in that. If my friends and family questioned the sanity of this adventure, I didn’t know it. That was truly a gift. When I asked them, a time or two or three, “Have I lost my mind?” No one said, “Yes.”
I arrived with the wind of their optimistic wishes at my back. This trip has been truly magical. Although I’ll wring every ounce of joy possible out of these last few days in Paris, going home is definitely on my radar.
Japanese Cherry Tree, (Cerisier du japon)
Meanwhile, here’s a look at Paris Week #5, best yet.
Mary & Dorie, the French Fridays girls
FRENCH THURSDAY with DORIE
We had dinner at Bistrot Paul Bert with the man himself, Bertrand Auboyneau.
As many of you know, my blog began eight years ago with French Fridays with Dorie, an international group which connected virtually to cook the book, Around my French Table. The cookbook, newly published by the James Beard award-winning author Dorie Greenspan, contained 300 recipes.
Over the next 5 years, with Dorie’s friendship, encouragement and mentoring, we made them all. And we now look forward to cooking fromEveryday Dorie, The Way I Cook, which hits the stands October 23.
The fish is Sole and was delicious but note the cauliflower.
Dorie and her husband, Michael, who have an apartment in Paris, arrived unexpectedly a week ago and asked me to join them for dinner. (My social calendar, of course, was blank.) Before dinner Michael took me out on their balcony where, starting with the Tour Eiffel and moving left, I could see every major Parisian landmark. I’ve archived that unforgettable moment.
You can see in two photos that Dorie ordered scallops for an entrée. Here are what Coquille Saint Jacques look like in the markets.
ANGELINA, MS. BELLE ÉPOQUE
Several weeks ago I enjoyed a memorable dinner at Susanna and Philippe Saint-Loubert’s home. Susanna called last week with two questions: 1) Did I like chocolate? (Yes), and 2) Had I been to Angelina’s Tea House? (No).
“I know it’s touristy, Mary,” she admitted, “but you must go once and have their hot chocolate.”
I was game so Saturday we met at the famous Angelina’s on Rue de Rivoli. Established in 1903 by Antoine Rumpelmayer and named for his granddaughter, Angelina’s is a Parisian institution. It was designed by French architect Édouard-Jean Niermans in the Belle Époque style and retains that gorgeous interior to this day. Its fame derives from its almost pudding-like hot chocolate. We happily piled on the Chantilly cream and enjoyed.
When I was walking home from Angelina’s, I stopped to watch about 100 kids breakdancing in the middle open square at the Louvre. Two young men (not shown) were the leaders.
FAMILIAR FACES
This is the week that my home away from home included Aspenites. So thrilled to see them.
I couldn’t stop smiling. (L to R) Karen Kribs, Me, Fred Venrick, Pat Hutchinson, Nancy Alciatore and Cathy O’Connell.
And, joined by Jim Hutchinson at the head of the table. Fred and Cathy just arrived from attending the London Book Fair where she promoted her new book to be published in September. We were celebrating.
Mille Feuille Minute a la Vanille Bourbon We ate at Le MaZenay in the 3rd Arrondisement.
My longtime friend and Ranger colleague, Judy Schramm, arrived yesterday with her granddaughter, Thea. I remember when Thea was born. And, no, I did not say that. She is darling and so excited to be in Paris.
On Sunday Cathy volunteered to take Karen and me on a sightseeing stroll. Karen and I envisioned a 2-3 hour walk especially since Cathy had hip replacement surgery 10 weeks ago. What began at 11:30am didn’t end until 5:30pm, 7 miles later. Karen and I staged a sweet sit-in and were rewarded.
This past week Paris dished up a full-flavored smørrebrød of must-do’s which bordered on sensory overload. At what point does all this seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and touching turn the senses into senseless? For me, it was last Wednesday at 9am. At the 4-week marker, I caught a 24-hours case of comatose.
The day started badly. I was excited about my day – a Market to Lunch cooking experience with top-ranked Le Foodist. That quickly switched to alarm when I spotted a text Fraud Alert from my credit card company. Ironically it was a back-up card that I had used only once. I called Chase (thank you, Verizon, for mobile access) and within the hour we shut down that card. Done.
Getting the lowdown on oysters, mussels (“No, not now”.) and clams from Fred.
However it was an unexpected blip and I was rattled. Just Me being Me. I admit that throughout the entire cooking class, Focus was not my friend. My classmates were lovely, our instructor, Fred, terrific and the class, well-organized. However, my head was still in Berlin where some jerk had apparently been running rampant with my credit card.
If it hadn’t been a participatory class, my eyes glazing over would have been “pas de probleme.” But Fred was precise. Although my peeled carrots and potatoes were “pas mal,” my shallot slicing was found wanting. What’s good enough in Aspen is not good enough in Paris.
Our delicious menu: Crème Dubarry (Cream of Cauliflower soup); Coq au Vin Ballotine; Purée Billes de légumes and Poire Belle Hélène
During our great-tasting, made-by-us déjeuner (lunch), Fred asked each of us the best thing we had learned in the class. To my everlasting regret, I mentioned that it was his throwing in a teabag while poaching the pears to even out the color. Readers, did you know that? Anyway, that finished me off for Fred.
Pears. Teabag. Amazing.
While walking home from the Latin Quarter where the school was located, I gave myself a pull-it-together, Mary, talking-to. (Silently, not mumbling.) You see I have this theory that if you don’t wake up happy and grateful, perhaps you need to go back and try again. Thankfully, Thursday morning I didn’t need a do-over. Except for Wednesday’s meltdown, all five sensory cylinders were back on-line and firing properly.
My week in photos:
With apologies to General DeGaulle, presently there are more than 1,600 varieties of cheese made primarily by small producers.
GOLD STAR CLASSROOM MOMENTS
During the past four weeks I’ve taken four food-related classes/tours with four different companies, all top-rated, all well-done: La Cuisine Paris, their Marais Soirée Gastronomy Food Tour and Galeries Lafayette wine and cheese tasting which I’ve written about in earlier posts. Then, Le Foodist. My last was a phenomenal French Cheese Tasting Workshop with 11 different cheeses and five different wines offered by Paris by Mouth. Each class was special in its own way, worth every euro.
Jennifer, who taught the course, was waiting for the eight of us with an endless supply of wine, cheese and baguettes.
It wasn’t until we got to the Roguefort and Epoisses that Jennifer began losing control of the group. But she managed to finish her spiel and we polished off the wine before grudgingly handing the tasting room off for another tasting.
The natural history museum, which has been in existence for 400 years, is HUGE. It houses nearly 180 species and over a thousand animals. This savannah migration winds its way through the entire first floor. The animals occasionally roar and are noisy. The first time that happened it was a bit alarming.
Spending the day at the natural history museum is deserving of a Berthillon ice cream cone, double dip, salted butter caramel and spéculoo.
Housed in the magnificient mansion’s former dining room, the Café Jacquemart-André is considered the most beautiful museum restaurant in Paris. It’s walls are cloaked with seven 18th century Belgium tapestries recounting the history of Achilles.
After viewing 50 of Mary Cassatt’s works in the galleries, I had lunch in their dining room. The ceiling is covered by a 18th Century fresco made by Giambattista Tiepolo.
I will admit to being a bit awed by Le Musée Curie housed in one of the oldest buildings at the Institut Curie. Led by Madame Curie, this family received 5 Nobel Prizes. Tucked into a private Paris neighborhood, this was hard to find but well worth the visit.
This is Madame Curie’s private laboratory. Her office, which can also be visited, is through the door. Although there were about 15 people visiting the small museum, it was quiet, almost reverent, with everyone talking very softly. In anticipation of this visit, I am reading “Radium Girls: The Dark Story of America’s Shining Women, ” which is sobering and sad.
ON THE RUN – PARIS MARATHON 2018
Early Sunday morning I walked out my front door to join the excitement as more than 50,000 runners passed by, circling around the Place de la Bastille. They were just getting started. It was only the three mile marker and many had not yet broken a sweat.
The Elites, the front runners – Here they come.
Here they are. (The eventual winner is in that group but I can’t spot him.)
There they go. Whoosh. You cannot believe how fast they were running.
50,000 strong
They came in waves, depending on their speed.
METRO MEOLODIES TO VIVALDI
Paris is recognized as one of our world’s most cultural cities. Saturday morning I listened to a talented mishmash of musicians, channeling the Christy Minstrels, entertaining passengers in the metro tunnels. Saturday evening I walked across the street to The Church of Saint-Paul-Saint-Louis commissioned by Louis XIII in the early 17th Century to hear the Alegria Orchestra playing Vivaldi.
Les Invalides, Napoleon’s Tomb (L), Le Tour Eiffel and Rodin’s Le Penseur (R). Hôtel Biron, where A. Rodin lived and now a museum devoted to his work.
Six weeks in Paris. Alone. Studio. 3rd floor walk-up. No elevator.
Admit it, right now you’re thinking, shouldn’t she have done this 40 years ago?
But, here’s the thing.C’est dommage.I didn’t.
I joined others for a wine/cheese tasting at Galeries Lafayette led by Thierry Givone, Wine Tasting in Paris.
http://eating.be/homepage
Galeries Lafayette is a magnificent department store in downtown Paris.
Now, three weeks into the journey, I am surprised by its so-far-so-good success. This trip was no whim but a dream which finally evolved into a now-or never-moment. I chose “now” with the caveat being a United Airlines return ticket in my backpack.
Paris-Brest, Brasserie Bofinger, 5-7 Rue de la Bastille. Four years ago my French Fridays with Dorie cooking group made the dessert pastry, Paris-Brest. I had no idea what it was or looked like at the time. So at lunch last week, I ordered it. And, ate the whole thing!
It was in February, 2014, that Paris-Brest was our recipe choice one week. This is what I made. I remember it being good enough to share.
For le plat principal, the main course at Bofinger’s, I had Scallops with creamy risotto in thick shellfish sauce.
At this point in my life I’m experiencing Paris through seasoned eyes and with layers of learning as baggage. I’m grateful for each moment here. It was satisfying, for me at least, to capture all together Rodin’s Le Penseur, Les Invalides and Le Tour Eiffel in my lens (photo above). Each of those images which represents three centuries of world history are something special to see.
Friday night I met my friends from Edinburgh, Araminta and Charles Ritchie. for dinner at the home of Susannah and Philippe Saint-Loubert. The Saint-Loubert’s were very gracious to include me.
Susannah is a wonderful cook. She made a variation of Coq Au Vin but it was her sauce that was truly authentic, delicious and red in color as it should be. Charles and Susannah
I understand that the dessert, Génoise roulée, was from a recipe of Araminta’s but baked by Susannah. With or without fruit, perfect.
With the hits, of course, have been misses. On Day 2 it took 45 minutes for me to find a boulongerie that was only three blocks away. I went the wrong way on the metro but turned myself around at the next stop. The graffiti defacing Paris’s beautiful buildings breaks my heart. And it’s obvious the French haven’t received the memo about cigarettes. If secondhand smoke kills you, I’m a dead woman!
Last week I spent a day each at Musée Louvre, d’Orsay and Rodin. At the d’Orsay there is an specific area reserved for students to work and draw.
There are always student groups at the museums. I realized I could understand what the guides were saying to the youngsters. Sometimes I hung out with the kids. No one seemed to mind.
The guides who talk to the kids keep it simple and entertaining.
This little guy resides in this pipe at the Hôtel Biron among Rodin’s art work, rent free. He’s a very cold french sparrow!
Every night I put together the next day’s plan but even so, there’s still uncertainty, a new address to find, a snafu here or there. Whether I’m deciphering a French menu, losing my way or figuring out the Paris metro system, I know it doesn’t matter how slowly I go, eventually I’ll get there. Sharing it with you makes it even better.
On Saturday at Georges Larnicol’s, a chocolatier on my street, they needed to deliver a large chocolate Easter sculpture. The delivery car was smaller than the sculpture.
There was lots and lots and lots of discussion while the girls held the heavy and fragile chocolate sculpture.
Then they tried to load it into the hatchback. Nope. Hopeless. The last I saw of them, they were taking the chocolate sculpture back into the shop.
Flàneur – An observer who wanders the streets of a great city on a mission to notice with childlike enjoyment the smallest events and the obscurest sights he encounters.
Tuesday was Macaron Day 2018, a celebration of this beloved morsel and to raise money for cystic fibrosis. Begun by Pierre Hermé in 2013, many Paris pattiseries now participate. I went to the source (Sylvia, pictured, works for Cystic Fibrosis) to donate and eat macarons.
It’s a rainy, bone-chilling cold Paris evening, providing me the perfect opportunity to rewind this past week for you. Before these seven days blur into “If it’s Tuesday it must be Belgium,” moments, here are mine. Deciding this week’s most unforgettable sighting was a toughie. I’m calling it a toss-up between
noted architect Frank Gehry and a young french mother.
On Thursday I took the metro to the Bois de Boulogne, a large public park in the 16th arrondissement. My destination was Foundation Louis Vuitton, the city’s newest art/cultural center located on the park’s western edge. Designed by architect Frank Gehry, he wanted “to design, in Paris, a magnificent vessel symbolizing the cultural calling of France.”
Mission accomplished.
I ate lunch at Foundation Louis Vuitton at its signature restaurant Le Frank, named for architect Gehry. The food was meh but sitting under his fish light sculpture worth the pricey meal. Gehry is obsessed with fish. In 1983 he was commissioned by Formica to design a fish lamp, his first, using their then-innovative plastic laminate.
Also on Thursday I was walking down the Rue de Rivoli when I approached a bus stop. Passengers were getting off while others waited to board. There was a snafu at the back door as a young mother chattering on a mobile (left hand) tried backing out of the bus while tugging a stroller (right hand). Bags were hanging from the stroller and, oh, the baby of course. After maneuvering it down the steps, her stroller landed with a loud thud. Mama’s talking never lost a beat. The gathering crowd watched in amazement as she gathered herself, making her way who-knows-where.
Mission accomplished.
It’s nice to pick a neighborhood bistro, always a friendly stop. Mine is La Fontaine Sully.
The July Column is a monument standing in the center of the Place de la Bastille to commemorate the Revolution of 1830. (Think actor Hugh Jackson.) It anchors my neighborhood and is the beacon to make my way home everyday.
LIFE HAPPENS, CHOCOLATE HELPS
Despite the weather, Parisians seemed intent on celebrating Easter week. While we North Americans are partial to jelly beans and Peeps, flavored marshmallow candy shaped into chicks and bunnies, the French prefer chocolate. For the myriad of artisanal chocolate shops in Paris, Easter is profitable.
Johana helps me choose my chocolate at Edwart’s. David Lebovitz recently featured this shop in his blog.
She insisted I sample a number of chocolates before choosing my own. By the time I finished sampling I didn’t need a box of chocolates!
OH CREPE!
Patty Price, an extraordinary baker and blogging colleague who lives in San Francisco, is in Paris taking classes at La Cuisine Paris. We met at the popular Breizh Cafe and talked (what else?) food while treating ourselves to Chef Larcher’s galettes de blé noir, buckwheat crêpes.
BAKE the WORLD a BETTER PLACE*
Tuesday I joined La Cuisine Paris for its three-hour Marais Soirée Gastronomy Food Tourto offer my taste buds an intensive workout. It was the ultimate CrossFit training session – wine, charcuterie, fromage, bread, Foie Gras, and chocolat but the pastries…full stop.
During the food tour our guide, Amber, suggested a #food hack. “If a patissierie, boulangerie or chocolat shop has chandeliers, go in.” We stopped by Aux Merveilleus de Fred (has a huge chandelier) where the bakers work in the windows. That’s very enticing for those who pass by. This shop’s main product is the merveilleus, a fantastically rich cake with a layer of meringue, a layer of whipped cream, a layer of meringue, a layer of whipped cream followed by a coating of one of 7 different toppings. Oh la la
The product. (I chose pink – cherry.) Aux Merveilleux de Fred photo
NO, JUST NO
Centre Georges Pompidou
CROWN of THORNS
The Cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris, Gothic architecture at its finest, was the destination of choice for hundreds of tourists.. I happily joined the crowd to look, see and marvel. It’s also a Friday, the day the Crown of Thorns, the wreath reputed to have been worn by Jesus, is displayed. This relic traveled from Jerusalem to Constantinople circa 1063 and by 1238, during the reign of King Louis IX, landed at Sainte-Chapelle for safekeeping. Thorns were often given to European royals to commemorate great events. At the British Museum I recently saw a thorn gifted to Mary, Queen of Scots when she married King Francis II. The thornless remains are kept in the treasury at Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris.
I don’t do selfies well but wanted to show that I was there. Notre Dame Cathedrale. (I’m in the red stocking cap on the right.)
The Crown of Thorns, from afar. I got closer which was very exciting for me but was in a cameras forbidden area.
Happy Easter to you readers celebrating Easter this coming week. I also gratefully appreciate so many of you for commenting or sending me e-mails, texts and articles since I’ve been in Paris. It keeps the solitariness at bay.
Cappuccino with a chausson aux pommes and pain au chocolat at Au Petit Versailles, called one of the top ten bakeries in Paris
GOODBYE, COMFORT ZONE…..
Last Saturday morning I stopped by a currency bureau to exchange my US $$$ for Euros. Having been in Paris only 3 days, I prepped for the conversation needed for this transaction. As I stepped to the window, I did my spiel en français, and felt quite pleased with my performance. The young man behind the counter smiled…bigly.
“C’est vrai,” I asked. He nodded his head. He understood.
“I guess you know I’m American, huh?”
He laughed…bigly.
The first carousel appeared in France in the second half of the 19th century and quickly became very popular with the Parisians. Today there are at least 20 and one is in my neighborhood. There is also a carousel museum.
Lenôtre has a shop on Rue Saint Antoine. For Easter they are featuring a collection of Les Tortues (turtles). I think this photo of my taking a photo of “Tortue Surfeuse” is fun.
Friday at the Picasso Museum I flipped to English when questioning a guard about an upcoming exhibition. “It’s alright,” he said. “I like to practice my English.”
“Petite fille sautant à la corde”, an assembly of found objects and scraps by Picasso
I’ve shopped so often at Monoprix, the major retail store on my block, clerks already understand my fractured French. For my first Paris meal at Au Bouquet St. Paul’s, I ordered Magret de canard aux figues et miel and, voilà, quack, quack. However, anything revolving around food and drink albeit unpolished, pas de problème. I’ll get there, my friends. Time is on my side.
I pass this gentleman every day. He seems formidable.
THE JOY IS in the JOURNEY, NOT at the JOURNEY’S END
During the past six years I have learned to be comfortable traveling alone. If you make a wrong choice on a solo trip, you fix it without feeling guilty for ruining someone else’s day. In my six years of going solo I’ve never met a problem I couldn’t resolve into a better solution. In my opinion, traveling alone makes you braver. Inspiration kickstarts creativity, expanding your mind. Dealing successfully with the unknown gives you courage. You learn to trust your instinct.
However, as many of you understand like I do, life can turn on a dime. For now, at least, I am privileged and somewhat in a hurry to be able to push boundaries. If not now, when? This 6 weeks in Paris is all about that.
Throughout Paris, if you notice or look carefully, there are small “art” objects stuck to walls of buildings and monuments. Mysterious artists such as Jeff Aerosol, Nemo, Space Invader, Philippe Gerard and Underground Paris create these pieces. John Hamon just posts his photo! It’s fun to be on the lookout for these.
Last Tuesday morning I boarded the Aspen to Chicago flight, beginning a six-week adventure into the Unknown Zone. By Wednesday morning I was unlocking the door to my tiny studio apartment in Le Marais. Unpack. Shop. Explore. Jet lag be damned. My apartment is modest, adequate and within my budget. (Yes, I have one.) It’s safe, quiet and I have already bonded with all 240 square feet.
What is fabulous, of course, is the location, Rue Saint Antoine, a street dating from the 16th century. Directly across from my apartment is the gorgeous 17th century Saint Paul-Saint Louis church, a magnificent blend of French/Italian Baroque architecture. The 170’ July Column of Place de la Bastille, dedicated to the 1830’s Revolution, anchors one end of the area. Christian Vabret’s charming corner bakery/restaurant, Au Petit Versailles du Marais, the other. Since it opens at 7am, who doesn’t need an early morning croissant and cappuccino?
Standing by my building’s doorway I spot boulangeries (5), a fromagerie, dozens of cafes and bistros, chocolatiers (5), Monoprix, grocery stores, fishmongers, flower shops, wine/Foie Gras shops, a bookstore and more. Much more.
It’s been a happy beginning.
Bonne nuit de Paris.
“Boy, those French. They have a different word for everything.” Steve Martin
