Kitchen Culinaire

Street art near the Sacré Coeur in Montmartre

We took a break from the museums and galleries today but that didn’t mean that it was a day without art.

There is a vibrant and eclectic street art scene here, with the walls of Paris becoming an outdoor gallery space. Our neighbourhood of Montmartre has an impressive “collection” but I have also photographed some great images all over the city, including a number in the Latin Quarter today. Some of the art changes almost daily and when I went back to photograph a dancing cigarette that I had seen on a wall off Rue Abbesses a couple of days ago it was gone.

For the record my Mom does not approve of graffiti and was devastated to see the murals that adorn the spiral staircase at the Abbesses métro station defaced by the random spray paint scribblings. She also finds the above photo depressing. However, she got to choose the photo for the post yesterday and we are trying to be somewhat democratic about this Paris blog so she relented. Expect a happy picture tomorrow though.

Today my Mom took the day off to tend to her blisters and rest her feet. She strolled around our little neighbourhood stopping in at the local patisseries and also went to some dress shops and checked out the location of some other rental apartments as she is hoping to return next June.

I headed down to Les Halles and then checked out the stunningly beautiful St. Eustache Church in the 1st Arrondissement. From there I made my way to the Paris mecca of kitchenwares, the E. Dehillerin shop, and then crossed the bridge and found the marché de la Rue Mouffetard. A great array of cheeses and meats, vegetables, wines and baked goods along a pedestrian only street. A couple of friends had recommended this market and I was glad I got the chance to see it.

On my way home I stopped in to check out the Institut du Monde Arabe before making my way across town to catch the subway to the Lamarck-Caulincourt station.

Tonight we ventured out just before eight to be in time for our dinner reservation at the lovely Chez Toinette restaurant. Mom had the duck with lavender honey and I had the young pigeon with red currants. Both so delicious that we have made another reservation for Saturday night!

Framboise and citron gelato, the perfect way to end the afternoon.

Welcome to day 9!

Just to set the record we have been eating some vegetables. We have also been sliding in some fresh fruit and yogurt at breakfast time. However, we didn’t come all this way to go low carb, high fibre or sugar-free. We have been eating plenty of things that are supposed to make you fat and yet both my Mom and I feel like we may have lost a pound or two since arriving last week.

French paradox? Maybe.

The thing is we are walking for hours each day and the portion sizes here, whether you are ordering a main dish in a restaurant or buying an ice cream cone on the street, are never too big. I don’t think the French even have a word for “super-size” and I don’t even see a lot of “lite/light” products. Just sensible amounts of real food.

Today after our tour of the Musée d’Orsay where we checked out the Manet exhibit and also saw a staggering array of Impressionist art by such masters as Renoir, Sisely, Cézanne, Monet, Degas, Bonnard et al, we made our way down to a nearby café in Saint Germain and had a late lunch. Mom had a Niçoise salad and I had a salade chèvre chaud (see, vegetables!).

We sat and listened to the thunder and watched the rain pour down for half an hour or so, just long enough to help dampen the sticky, humid heat.

By the time we were done our meal the weather had cleared and a warm wind blew the clouds away and it was sunny once again. Perfect sorbet weather! We strolled down the Seine and made our way to one of the many outposts of the Berthillon ice cream and sorbet chain. Mom bought a rhubarb sorbet to share and we sat on the wall overlooking the river and watched the world go by.

We gingerly walked a few blocks further (due to the blooming of blisters from the full day on our feet) and caught the métro home. Thankfully, tomorrow is supposed to be cooler and even though it is considered déclassé we may both be wearing our flip flops…Still so much exploring to do.

Composition Aux Deux Perroquets, 1935-1939, Fernand Léger at the Centre George Pompidou

Random thoughts/ideas on how to spend a hot summer day in Paris:

-Even though walking for an hour and a half to reach your destination in temperatures over 30 degrees C may seem somewhat crazy (don’t worry, Mom took the Metro) it does allow for a glimpse into Parisian life not yet encountered. The fashion is pared down yet still ultra stylish, people seem relaxed, the streets are far less busy and café life, on the shady side of the street, thrives. You may also encounter, on a deserted side street the strains of violin music wafting from an open widow high above your head. Magic.

-By midday it is advisable to seek out somewhere cool and perhaps cultural. A first time visit to the Centre Pompidou is a wonderful way to spend 3 or 4 hours in air-conditioned surroundings. Check out the Musée National d’Art Moderne which is the largest museum for modern art in Europe. The collection is housed over two floors and covers major 20th century movements from Pop Art to Surrealism to Cubism. An amazing and inspiring array of paintings, sculpture, photographs, furniture and mixed media pieces. Plus outstanding views of Paris from the sixth level. Be warned, it is hot up there.

-Maybe you feel like having lunch at the Musée so that you don’t have to look for a place in the hot city streets below? Be forewarned that if you happen to decide to eat lunch at Georges, the hipster eatery on the top of the Centre Pompidou with its sweeping views and tall vases filled with roses and pricey fusion dishes, that the waiters may be somewhat surly and as hot as you are. In fact, they may tell you that they are unable to be polite to you or smile because “it is 45 degrees in here and I am too hot to smile at you…okay?!”. Try not to take this personally or feel somewhat sad about this over the next few hours. Also, try not to think about the hundred euros you just dropped to get treated so poorly.

-Having ice cream is an absolute must on any hot day in Paris. (Actually we have been eating ice cream even when it is not hot when we are not scarfing down macarons, croissants, éclaires, tarte aux framboises, canneles or kouignettes). Initially it might seem like a good idea to head down to Berthillon on the L’île Saint Louis for a cone but being that the temperature is now hitting a sweaty 35 degrees you may want to settle for an Amorino gelato with the dual flavours of framboise and citron. Refreshing and delicious.

-After a bit of shopping in the Marais with your dear, sweet Mom who is starting to droop like a little flower out of water, you may want to find the nearest Metro station, stopping to pick up a couple of Perriers on the way, and head back to your lovely, cool apartment where you can pour yourself a glass of chilled wine, go through your trove of pictures from your day, put your feet up and start planning Day 9 of your trip.

A shady Sunday stroll through the Luxembourg Gardens.

A rather lazy Sunday here in Paris. The temperature has soared and we are in for a bit of a heatwave over the next few days. It was 30 C today and is supposed to go as high as 38 C tomorrow!

We have now been here for a week and what a luxury to have yet another full week ahead. Instead of frantically racing from attraction to attraction we have been able to stroll through our days picking and choosing what we feel like doing at any given moment and even changing our minds on a whim.

Today we got up at the crack of 9:30 am (early for us) and headed down to the Boulevard Raspail Market. I have heard about this market over the years but never actually made it down to see it for myself in person. Today was the day. On Mondays and Friday it is a traditional market and on Sundays it is an organic (or Bio) market. Tons of artisans selling beautiful organic fruits and vegetables and cheeses alongside a couple of butchers with every imaginable cut of meat and a few vendors selling Bresse chickens, lots of stalls with roasted chickens and prepared foods, breads and pastries and a guy selling honey and women selling lavender and roses and peonies.  There was a stall that had all kinds of pasta and olives and more cheeses and even a guy who was whipping up some tasty looking potato pancakes.

While I was walking through I couldn’t help but think, “If I only lived here…” In my head I always go back to family meals and dinner parties.

After we had our fill of the sights and sounds and smells of the market we ambled off to the Luxembourg Gardens.

I love this park so much. It is much more formal than our parks at home but people certainly make themselves at home. Just don’t try to sit on the grass or some uniformed park guards sporting very loud whistles will come along and force you to pack up your things and move along. Drinking champagne in public, no problem. Sitting on the grass, no way.

On such a hot day it was an oasis of cool along the tree lined allées of the gardens but we also braved the heat to watch the children sail their model boats in the large octagonal pond as well as to check out some scantily clad Parisians lounging about in the chairs near the water.

There were families and couples and tourists all jumbled together, having picnics, drinking wine, eating ice cream, talking and laughing. A perfect Paris Sunday afternoon.

On the hunt for the most delicious macaron.

We are nearing the halfway point in the trip and I am torn between feeling like we have been here forever and that our time is flying by too quickly.

Today we made our way down to Saint Germain des Prés to do some shopping, have some lunch at Brasserie Lipp (where we had delicious food and a sweet, sweet waiter who spent 5 minutes trying to help me with my pronunciation of the word “seulement”) and then we headed down to the mecca of food markets, La Grande Epicerie de Paris.

Before our lunch we hunted down the Pierre Hermé pastry store to check out the chocolate and pastries and to buy a selection of their famous macarons so that we could do a taste test with the Gerard Mulot macarons that we had purchased yesterday.

We are still dutifully trying as many baguettes as we can but have now added a new food fascination with the ever ubiquitous French macaron. Actually, we are also obsessed with French salted butter and currently have three different brands in our little fridge but that is another post.

I had never even heard of macarons until a couple of years ago and then, all of a sudden, they seemed to be everywhere. People were eating them, making them and photographing them over and over again. It has been the year (or two) of the French macaron.

It was on our trip last year that I tasted my very first one. I am not sure why but I did not expect to like them. I thought they would be tooth achingly sweet and sugary with a spongy, sticky texture.  And to be fair, some are exactly that. However, when you find a very good macaron it is something very special. A macaron should be airy and light, as it is made of egg whites and almond flour that sandwiches a cream filling. Last year we tried macarons from a tiny little cheap and cheerful bakery just off Rue de Abbesses as well as those from the very well known and pricey Ladurée …

This year we sampled the wares from Gerard Mulot and then today we tried the little jewels from Pierre Hermé. With flavours as diverse as Rose Petal, Banana-Ginger, Olive Oil-Vanilla, Sea salt-caramel, Jasmine and good old chocolate it is pretty tough to pick a favourite flavour let alone a favourite purveyor but we are doing our best.

We bought a box of twelve and the best thing was that we found a bench just off the Place Saint Sulpice Square and sat in the sunshine and sampled three of the twelve that we had just purchased. And this was before lunch. A wonderful moment to be a grown-up in Paris.

When we get to the Montmartre cemetery it means we are almost "home".

We are beginning to get into a pretty nice little routine around her, my Mom and I.

We are waking up a bit earlier each morning as our bodies adjust to this new time zone and we spend our first few hours having coffee and checking emails, planning our day and plotting on maps, eating our breakfast and having our showers.

We set off around noon and walk for an hour or two until we arrive at wherever our first destination may be.

Today it was the Musée de L’Orangerie to see the beautiful and tranquil large format waterlily series by Monet. From there we walked over to have lunch at Café de Flore and then we strolled through the Tuileries in the warm late afternoon sunshine. Then I dragged my poor Mom over to the very trendy Colette Store on the Rue Saint Honoré where blogger extraordinaire David Lebovitz was doing a ice cream sundae demonstration and book signing. We missed the ice cream part but were there just in time to purchase a copy of The Perfect Scoop and then I waited briefly in line to have Mr. Lebovitz sign it for me. He seems like a sweet and mellow guy.

After the book signing I was all ready to start walking home with my Mom when she finally put her foot down. I sometimes forget that my sweet Mom is almost 70. For one thing she certainly doesn’t look it and for the most part she doesn’t act like it either. However, she does has a moderate form of psoriatic arthritis and is not a super big walker in her daily life at home and so I have noticed she will sometimes be silently wincing when the walking has gone on a bit too long.

My Mom may not be a marathon runner but she is no wuss. When I offered to take her home on the Metro she waved me off told me to enjoy my walk home and set off with her ipad map towards the nearest station. In the end I was a bit worried, only because I wasn’t entirely sure of my route home and she has a much better sense of direction than I do.

By the time I made it to the bridge that crosses over the Montmartre cemetery I knew where I was and that I was almost home. This is a beautiful cemetery especially in the early evening summer light. François Truffaut is buried here.

I stopped in to get a baguette from a new boulangerie that we were wanting to try and a few groceries from the Fran Prix to make a light supper for us.

My Mom was waiting for me, working on her journal and eating macarons.

Perhaps we will take the metro to and from our adventures tomorrow.

Escargots les 12

When we arrived at our rental apartment and I was going through the kitchen cupboards and drawers (doesn’t everybody do this?) I came across a set of escargot tongs. Right alongside the forks and knives. Only in France.

Today my Mom and I went to a lovely Brasserie in the Marais district and had a full order of twelve delicious escargot as our first course followed by duck confit with roasted potatoes and a mixed green salad with the most wonderfully piquant vinaigrette.

It was a very good thing that the food was so satisfying and fortifying as I had spent the early afternoon dragging my Mom around searching for treasures. We found many.

This evening we met up with an old Vancouver friend who moved to Paris three years ago. We had a drink and met his new girlfriend who is beautiful and smart and so very French. We talked about friends we have in common, our kids and plans for the future. He looked so well and I felt so happy for him.

Sometimes the world seems like a wonderfully small place.

Lamarck Caulaincourt Metro Station

A morning that started with sleeping in and rainy skies and a leisurely morning breakfast at home gave way to a solo walk to the Sacré Coeur, blue skies with big puffy clouds, lots of walking with my Mom and shoe shopping and tea buying and lunch at Café Marly and then a metro ride home.

Between my Mom and I we managed to figure out the metro schedule and get on the right line going the right direction to our transfer point and successfully change trains and make it safely home to the Lamarck Caulaincourt Station just 1 1/2 blocks from the flat. If you knew the two of us you would realize what a special and exciting accomplishment this is.

I have always loved the metro stations in Paris. There is an American artist, Larry Yust, who did a series of photographs that he calls “elevations” of many of the stations here which are so very beautiful. Many people have their favourites such as the Concorde Station with the decorative tile lined walls or the Abbesses Station with its glass canopy entrance and graffiti covered walls along the spiral staircase to the platform below. For me, each station is its own work of art with its own personality and colours and shapes and shadows. Underground art galleries for the price of a metro ticket.