Out and About in Paris

Celebrating one year in Paris - with leaky pipes and a plumber!

2012-03-03T09:50:00.012+01:00

February 26, 2011 - The movers unload our belongings in Paris.

Thursday evening, March 1, 2012: Pleased to be home after our trip to Geneva, I go to the kitchen to prepare a celebratory dinner to commemorate our one year anniversary of living in Paris and am stunned when my socks are immediately drenched with cold water. Frantically looking at the flooded floor and wondering what has happened in our absence, I spy the culprit – the ancient water valve that I had turned off prior to my departure on Monday. Hearing an ominous drip, drip, drip…I rip off my socks, wriggle out of my tight jeans (darn all that hot chocolate!), grab a pile of towels and start cleaning up the mess. In between cursing antiquated French plumbing, wondering how much water has seeped into our neighbor's apartment downstairs and wishing that I had gone to the grocery store instead of Stephane, I remind myself how thankful I am to live in Paris even if it means crawling around on my hands and knees mopping up bucket after bucket of water.

Flashback to January 31, 2011: It's early Monday morning. Phone in hand, I'm standing in front of a TGV at the train station in Lausanne, Switzerland waiting for Stephane to send me a one word text message: "abort" if the apartment that I'm traveling to Paris to see has already been taken or "proceed" if he was able to schedule an appointment with the real estate agency and our relocation agent. As the conductor signals that the train is ready to depart, I quickly call Stephane and ask if he has any news. He doesn't so I take my chances and hop on the train telling myself that the worst thing that can happen is that I'll spend the afternoon wandering the streets of Paris.

Fortunately, all of the stars align and Stephane calls to say that I can visit the apartment at 1:00 p.m. I see it, like it, and make our relocation agent's day by telling her that we'll take it if the owner accepts our application. Our agent is pleased that she won't have to spend days taking me from apartment to apartment and I'm happy to have found a home in Paris.

Thursday evening, March 1, 2012: Stephane returns from his trip to the grocery store. He twists the valve, curses the French for covering up the pipes in the kitchen and breaks a small hole in the wall to tighten the bolt. Interestingly enough, the dripping stops but it also cuts off our entire water supply. I use Perrier to brush my teeth before we go to bed wondering when we'll be able to take a shower and flush the toilets again.

Friday morning, March 2, 2012: The plumber arrives, albeit late, and curses in English to ensure that I understand the severity of the situation. It's lunchtime and he has to switch off the water for the entire building. My neighbors won't be pleased. He fixes the leaky valve and says "See you soon" when he leaves. I wonder if it's an omen of things to come and tweet about my experience.

MK: Felt like hugging plumber when he finally arrived this morning. Flooded kitchen followed by no water - c'est la vie à Paris!

And was surprised to get an immediate response from Tatiana de Rosnay, the author of Sarah's Key and The House I Loved.

TdR: @OutInParisBlog was he cute ? :)

MK: @tatianaderosnay He looked like knight in shining armor. ;) The words, "leak is fixed & water is back on" do wonders for a woman's heart!

TdR: @OutInParisBlog sounds like a French Heathcliffe!

MK: @tatianaderosnay French - most definitely. He laughed when I asked if he works on weekends! Heathcliffe - no.

And another response from Anne, Just Another American in Paris:

@OutInParisBlog you haven't really lived in Paris until you've had a leaky pipe or water coming from the apartment above.

That explains it. The leaky pipe was Paris' way of welcoming us home and helping us celebrate our one year anniversary. Merci, Paris!

Wondering why the movers are bringing our things through the balcony door of our fifth floor apartment? Take a look at the pictures in this post.

Our apartment sure didn't look like home on February 26, 2011!

And the award for the best hot chocolate in Paris goes to...

2012-03-02T09:37:00.011+01:00

After months of intensive research, my quest for the best hot chocolate in Paris has officially come to an end. Even though I didn’t manage to try all of the places that I would have liked during the cold winter months, my rapidly increasing waistline has convinced me that it’s time to announce the winner before I have to buy a new wardrobe.

Amorino Gelato Italiano – Scattered throughout the city, this chain is a sure bet if you like thick hot chocolate that more closely resembles pudding than a drink. While it’s not my favorite, their hot chocolate proved hard to resist whenever Stephane suggested that we stop for gelato, his preferred treat.

Angelina – After sampling their hot chocolate on several occasions at different locations, I’ve got to admit that it’s consistently prepared to perfection. And perhaps that’s part of the problem. Since there is almost always a long line of tourists waiting in front of Angelina’s Belle Epoque tearoom, the staff is invariably harried and unfriendly. To make matters worse, it’s the only place in Paris where I’ve been asked to settle the bill because the server’s shift is ostensibly finished. When this happened two times in a row, I realized that it’s their way of ensuring that customers don’t linger. Go here if you don't mind waiting for a seat, unpleasant staff and being rushed out the door.

The recently opened Angelina's tearoom in Galeries Lafayette offers a less crowded option than their tourist central tearoom at 226 Rue de Rivoli.

L’heure Gourmande Tearoom (22 passage Dauphine, 75006 Paris) – While this charming tearoom tucked away in a narrow passage is a real delight, the hot chocolate that was served lukewarm was a disappointment. I’ll definitely return for more of their delicious clafoutis with a seasonal fruit coulis but will ask for tea or coffee next time.

Jean-Paul Hevin (231 Rue St Honoré, 75001 Paris) – With hindsight, starting my research with Jean-Paul Hevin’s aphrodisiac hot chocolate with strong notes of ginger and spices was probably a bad idea. After seeing that Le Figaro ranks this chocolatier’s gourmet brew as the best in Paris, it’s the first place that I tried and it’s where I returned time and time again. Trying to keep my habit a secret from Stephane, my cover was blown when the waitress greeted me like an old friend and asked if I would have my regular or try one of the other flavors. With a constantly changing range of exotic options like oyster (an Australian customer assured me that he loved the combination!), matcha green tea and raspberry coulis, it's almost impossible for me to pass the discrete boutique without stopping.

During my latest visit to the sleek tearoom with a modern design, I decided to belly up to the chocolate bar to learn the art of making lusciously rich hot chocolate.

Whisk 60 grams of Jean-Paul Hevin's hot chocolate powder with 300 ml. of whole milk to emulsify the mixture and make it frothy and light.

Pour the mixture into a cup.

Add the pear and vanilla pulp in swirls.

Savor the experience before wondering which flavor you'll try on your next visit!

No doubt about it. My archive of photos of hot chocolate is all the evidence that's needed to indict me on charges of willful indulgence in Paris. But it has been fun!

So, without further ado - my vote for the best hot chocolate in Paris goes to Jean-Paul Hevin. Do you agree or disagree? I would love to know who wins your vote for the best hot chocolate in Paris because I may be able to sample a few more before the weather wams up and/or my jeans become unbearably tight.

Stephane's vote goes to the George V. Served in a pitcher with homemade marshmallows, whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles on the side, it's a decadent experience but too expensive for me to drink on a regular basis. I was fortunate that Stephane shared a couple of sips of his hot chocolate when we went there for afternoon tea.

Update: John-Paul Hevin and La Patisserie Viennoise at 8 Rue de l’École de Médecine have received votes via Twitter.

Click here to see how my rankings compare with those of Le Figaro.

Jean-Paul Hevin making his award-winning hot chocolate.

Reflections - keep your eyes on the ground!

2012-02-27T12:22:00.005+01:00

Squish, squish, splat! That's the symphony of sounds that Stephane and I used to hear during our evening walks in Cassis, France some twenty years ago. Tiptoeing on concrete mined with dog pooh (splat!) and slow moving snails (squish!) prepared us for the relatively clean sidewalks of Paris. At least that's what I thought until I was momentarily distracted by the Eiffel Tower last night and forgot the all-important dictum, "Never look up!" Weaving my way through the hordes of tourists, my eyes were resolutely fixed on the ground until the fateful moment when I allowed myself to be captivated by the reflection in a bus window. Splat! Chalk up another one for the dogs of Paris and their thoughtful owners.

Dragging one leg behind me as I scraped my soiled shoe on the cement, the words on the side of the bus seemed to mock me. More comfort - really?

Last night was also a flurry of activity as I finalized my travel plans for the week. I'll be in Geneva until Thursday, back home for a quick celebration of our one year anniversary of living in Paris at the end of the week and departing for Boston on Sunday. As always, my laptop is going with me. I may catch up on the backload of posts about things that I've been doing in Paris or I may write about my travels. I just wanted to let you know that I should be safe from dog pooh for a while and will use the opportunity to take my eyes off of the ground from time to time.

Sometimes you see the darndest things when you look up -- like cows! The annual Agricultural Show is in town until March 4 and according to everything that I've heard, it's well worth a visit. I may try to go on Friday.

Sunday's pictures and a song - Musicians near Notre-Dame

2012-02-26T17:27:00.004+01:00

Is it the same guy? I took these photos last Friday - a beautiful, sunny day in Paris - and found a YouTube video of a violinist playing in almost exactly the same spot in October 2011. Enjoy!

"The Artist" shines at the French Film Awards - but what will the Americans think?

2012-02-25T19:03:00.005+01:00

Better late than never - After making a last minute decision to see The Artist this afternoon, I rushed to the movie theatre and sank into my seat just as the movie started. Slightly annoyed that the woman next to me insisted on humming along with most of the songs, I'm thankful that I resisted the urge to ask her to be quiet because when the movie was over, she turned to me and said enthusiastically in French, "I hope that the Americans like it!" Assuring her that the French film was highly entertaining, she shook her head and said that she was worried that George Clooney would win the Academy Award for best male actor in a leading role. Having found Clooney's portrayal of a grieving husband to be lacking on so many levels in "The Descendants", I told her that I don't think that he'll be going home with an Oscar tomorrow night. She beamed and confided that she hopes that the The Artist will reign supreme in Los Angeles and that Jean Dujardin will be the first French-born actor to win the Oscar for a lead role. It seems that there's a lot more at stake than just a gold statue. It's a question of national pride - no wonder that Dujardin started singing the French national anthem, La Marseillaise, when he as asked what it would mean to him and to his country if he goes on to win the Academy Award after winning "best actor" at the Screen Actors Guild Awards.

While The Artist won a total of six Cesars for Best Film, Best Director, Best Actress, Best Cinematography, Best Art Direction and Best Music at the French Film Awards in Paris last night, the Cesar for Best Actor went to Omar Sy for his performance in the feel-good box office blockbuster Intouchables. According to a recent article in The New York Times, the movie will soon have an American remake produced by Will Smith. As Stephane and I thoroughly enjoyed the heartwarming tale about the friendship that develops between a wealthy quadriplegic and his caretaker, I'll be curious to see how this movie is adapted for American audiences.

Any thoughts about how The Artist or other movies will do tomorrow night? As always, I won't find out the winners until I wake up Monday morning.

You've got mail - No more Mademoiselle, new bells for Notre-Dame, things Parisians say and tearooms

2012-02-24T18:02:00.005+01:00

Things are changing at a dizzying speed in France - in a move towards greater equality of the sexes, the government decided to banish "mademoiselle" ("miss") from official forms this week and four of the old bells in the North Tower at Notre-Dame will be replaced by new melodious bells to celebrate the 850th anniversary of the church next year. Many thanks to Joseph and Amy for emailing the following articles to me! Please click on the links if you would like to read more.

"Mademoiselle" Exits Official France, New York Times -- I hope that the near-sighted beggar who keeps waving his coin cup at me and saying "Mademoiselle, Mademoiselle" gets a copy of the official government memo!

New more melodious bells for Notre Dame

Stéphane and I had a good time watching "Things Parisians Say" sent to me by "My Little Paris". If you're not on their mailing list yet, you should be! As always, my ears and mind had to go into hyper drive to understand these fast talking Parisians. I love when the guy, who is obviously late for an appointment, says that he's at Châtelet metro station when he's at Buttes Chaumont (01:32). It's also funny how Parisians describe their fellow citizens as "selfish", "too stupid", "stressed" (01:40) and the 16th arrondissement as "dead, dead, dead, dead!" (01:42). Newsflash: The Rue Saint Denis is the new Rue Montorgueil (01:50) and the 20th arrondissement is the new 12th (01:48).

And many thanks to Nancy for sending the link for an article about tearooms in Paris. I look forward to trying some of them. Speaking of Notre-Dame, today would be a good day to go to The Tea Caddy! Please note that the prices are in francs and not euros.

Her Paris Tearooms: Tea for One

Have you read about something interesting in Paris? I would love to know. Please send me an email at mkoutandabout@gmail.com.

Other news: School vacations mean long lines in front of Versailles. Fortunately, I had booked a guided tour on Tuesday, so I whizzed on past! But look at that blue sky. Spring is almost here.

"Bringing Up Bébé" - Author Pamela Druckerman talks at the American Library in Paris

2012-02-23T15:14:00.021+01:00

Until the youngest of our two children went away to college, my primary job was raising our "third-culture kids"*. Moving from country to country, I observed other mothers in action and was quite often struck by the cultural differences in parenting. In Switzerland, my doctor, midwife and friends advised me to put our firstborn on a strict schedule. Following their instructions, Sara ate, slept and played according to the clock, just like a good Swiss child. However, when we moved to the Philippines and had live-in household help, the normally acquiescent Filipino women argued that leaving our infant son in a room on his own was akin to child abuse. In their culture, where collectivism is valued over individualism, babies sleep next to their mothers and their needs are met immediately. Rather than looking at a clock to see if it was time to feed Philippe, Virgie and Viola urged me to be guided by his needs.

Watching and learning from my internationally diverse group of friends has convinced me that we parent our children according to what's culturally important to us. So, when I heard that Pamela Druckerman would be speaking at the American Library about her new book, Bringing Up Bébé, I marked the date in red on my calendar, not because I plan to raise another child in Paris but because I hoped that she would provide some insightful clues as to what's most important to the French. I wasn't disappointed.

While Druckerman, who has been overwhelmed by both the positive and negative reactions to her book, says that Bringing Up Bébé is more of a memoir than a manifesto, it's pretty clear that she's convinced that French mothers are on to something good. Saying that she has been transformed as a parent by living in France, Druckerman explained that there are four magic words in French: bonjour (hello), au revoir (goodbye), merci (thank you) and s'il vous plaît (please). According to the author, the French idea is that by making children, even those as young as one, say "hello" when they meet someone ensures that kids learn that the world doesn't revolve around them. In fact, the idea that babies and small children are rational beings and should be treated accordingly permeates Druckerman's anecdotes. She explained that while French mothers don't specifically teach their young children patience, there are ongoing lessons about how to delay gratification. Druckermann, who used to inhabit a world where moms carry a constant supply of Cheerios in Ziploc bags, was initially amazed that French children are able to wait for their goûter, the official snack time around 4:00 pm.

As almost all of my parenting years were spent abroad, I was surprised to hear Druckerman's descriptions of the intense "Mommy Wars" in the United States that pit working mothers against those who stay at home. According to the author, there isn't the same sort of competition between mothers in France because almost all of them put their babies in daycare and happily return to work at the end of their maternity leave. When Druckerman asserted that French women can technically have it all because there isn't the same sort of social pressure to stay at home, I found myself thinking of a recent article in the New York Times where Valérie Toranian, editor-in-chief of Elle magazine in France, said that French woman are exhausted. Sound familiar? Well, apparently it's even more difficult when you're expected to work, cook a delicious dinner, look immaculate in stiletto heels and raise children who say bonjour to everyone. When I questioned Druckerman during the book signing session as to her thoughts on why French women are the largest consumers of anti-depressants in Europe, she responded that it's because they're so inexpensive in France before adding that she's frequently asked this question and hopes to address it in her next book.

While I'm relieved that NBC's Today Show segment about Bringing Up Bébé wasn't my first introduction to Pamela Druckerman because I found myself more interested as to why she was wearing a black beret in her apartment in Paris than in what she was saying, she made many excellent points during her talk at the American Library. Appearing sans beret, Druckerman was less of a polarizing Francophile and more of a mother trying to figure out how to best raise her children in a foreign land. As another mother, I applaud her efforts.

What do you think? Can we learn something from the French about rearing children? It's not only the Anglophones who are interested in Druckerman's book. A camera crew from the German television channel ZDF filmed her talk last night.

Please click here to read Elaine Sciolino's review of Bringing Up Bébé in The New York Times.

*Third culture kids - A third culture kid is a person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside their parents’ culture. The third culture kid builds relationships to all the cultures, while not having full ownership in any. Although elements from each culture are assimilated into the third culture kid’s life experience, the sense of belonging is in relationship to others of the same background, other TCKs.

Pamela Druckerman, the author of Bringing Up Bébé talking at the American Library in Paris

Je thé...me - a romantic restaurant off the beaten-track

2012-02-22T10:29:00.007+01:00

Now that Valentine's Day 2012 has come and gone, Stephane and I are left with fond memories of our dinner at Je thé...me, a romantic restaurant whose name is a play on the French words for "I love you" (Je t'aime).

Situated on the corner of Rue d'Alleray and Rue Francois Villon, two narrow streets in the 15th arrondissement, Je thé...me is well off the beaten track for most tourists. But that didn't stop Anthony Bourdain, a celebrity chef and host of The Travel Channel's Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations from discovering it when he was looking for tripe and kidneys while visiting Paris for the 100th episode of his show. Now, I've got to admit that I wouldn't have been as excited about this cozy restaurant if I would have known that its claim to fame in the United States is offal, but since I only learned about Anthony Bourdain when his name kept appearing in enthusiastic reviews and hadn't seen the aforementioned show, I was eager to try it.

Retour de Montagne is the chef's ode to traditional mountain foods - potatoes, Reblochon cheese and air dried meat. Reminiscent of meals normally eaten in Alpine chalets after a day of skiing, the creamy concoction was hearty yet amazingly light at the same time. Good thing because I still had two more courses to go!

As there's nothing more succulent than duck breast when it's prepared to perfection, Un Malard, Une Orange was a superb choice. Served with seasonal vegetables, there wasn't the tiniest speck left when they removed my plate.

And since Valentine's Day wouldn't feel like Valentine's Day without a bit of chocolate, I opted for the luscious Tarte Chocolat Sarrazin for dessert. It was a sweet way to finish an outstanding meal.

If you would like to watch Anthony Bourdain's segment on Je thé...me, it starts with a visit to a butcher at 06:10 on the video. If you want to skip the close-ups of the cows' heads, intestines and tongues, start at 06:49.

Je thé...me

4, rue de Alleray

75015 Paris

The three-course dinner menu, which changes several times a year, is 38€ . Otherwise, you may also order individual courses. Starter: 12€; Main Course: 23€; Dessert: 9€.

While we would have liked to sit downstairs, we felt very lucky to get the last table upstairs since we had only reserved the day before Valentine's Day.

Click to read more reviews of Je thé...me on Yelp and Trip Advisor.

Riddle for the day: What does a Swiss man notice in Paris?

2012-02-21T07:59:00.014+01:00

What does a Swiss man notice in Paris, the most beautiful city in the world? If you answered a) one of the famous monuments, b) romantic restaurants or c) seductive Parisian women, you haven't met my husband. Come to think of it, while I've occasionally noticed Stéphane's eyes following an attractive female long after she has disappeared in the distance, he's always smart enough to fervently deny it. So, even though c) could potentially be the correct answer, it's not.

Last Saturday night, while walking home with some friends from Bistro 31, one of our favorite neighborhood restaurants, I overheard Stéphane say that he wanted to show them something. Intrigued as to what it could be it, I was surprised when we stopped in front of the Volvo dealer and he pointed his finger at the Volvo V60 in the window. Can you guess what caught his eye? Although the answer is fairly obvious if you're Swiss, you may want to click on the photo to enlarge it if you're not. And, no, the answer isn't simply "the skis" (they're Rossignol and not Stöckli, anyway!). That would be too easy.

Personally, I think that Stéphane's just upset that he hasn't been skiing this year. It's really hard for a Swiss guy to live in a place that doesn't have mountains and easy access to the slopes. Plus, there's always a bit of one-upmanship between the Parisians and the Swiss French, where the Parisians usually have the upper hand.

Answer: Just as a Parisian man would notice if the Mona Lisa was hanging upside down in the Louvre, Stephane saw that the tips of the skis were pointing towards the front of the car rather than the back. Thinking that aerodynamics may not play such an important role with more modern ski racks, I did a google search and found that it's still the recommended way to transport your skis. Needless to say, the incorrect placement gave Stéphane a good chuckle because the city slickers at Volvo don't know how to load skis. To make matters worse, I'm fairly sure that the Volvo salesmen thought that I was interested in purchasing a V60 when I asked if I could take photos of it for my husband.

My apologies if my comment that "the answer isn't simply 'the skis'" was confusing. I was trying to give you a bit of a hint by using the word, "simply" but was told by my daughter that I actually made it more difficult. I'm sorry!

Carnival - a hot celebration in Paris!

2012-02-20T12:20:00.004+01:00

After spending three years in Trinidad, where Carnival is a festive season that lasts a couple of months rather than a couple of days, Stephane and I were anxious to see what it looks like in Paris. As it was the French planters who introduced this celebration to the Trinidadians when they first settled on the Caribbean island in 1783, we wondered if there would also be huge masquerade bands of people dressed in skimpy costumes, steelbands playing the latest calypso tunes and lots of "Carnival babies" born nine months after the revelry. Marking the parade route on a map, we hurried over to the 10th arrondissement to join the fun yesterday afternoon.

Since it was much colder than we had expected, we grabbed a window seat in a cozy cafe on Rue du Fauburg du Temple. Just as we were preparing to order something hot to drink, an adorable little clown in pink boots appeared and I suggested that we wait outside so as to not miss any of the action. While the minutes ticked by without a sequined costume in sight, Stephane made frequent forays into the McDonald's across the street to warm up and to keep me supplied with macarons, cappuccino and hot chocolate topped with a miniature mountain of whipped cream. After more time passed, Stephane and I finally sought refuge in the McDonald's and shared a Big Mac with fries.

With bulging bellies, we were just about ready to give up and go home when we heard the first strains of drumbeats and followed a cute little butterfly to the parade, like moths towards a hot flame. We both agreed afterwards that it was well worth the wait.

Carnival - Parisian Style

As always, click on any of the photos to enlarge.

One of the beer carts.

Sunday's pictures and a song - Bonjour, Paris! with Michael Pereira and Liza

2012-02-19T09:51:00.001+01:00

Bonjour, Paris! That's exactly what I was thinking as I snapped a couple of photos on my way home from dropping some friends off at Gare de Lyon. The city looked so lovely in the early morning light that I was tempted to break into song.

Many thanks to Michael Pereira, an "Actor, Singer, Seeker, Lover" in New York for sending me a tweet about his YouTube ode to Paris. If I could sing as well as Michael, that's what I would have been doing on Pont Royal this morning. Bonjour, Paris! with Michael and Liza! is the perfect song for the start of a perfect day.

Sandwich and Snack Show in Paris - the latest trends in snacking!

2012-02-18T14:36:00.006+01:00

When Patricia posted a comment a couple of weeks ago telling me about the "Sandwich & Snack Show", I was intrigued because snacking is a relatively new concept in Europe. Frequently named as the cause of obesity in the United States, snacking has more often been viewed with suspicion than as something to promote. So, there was no way that I was going to miss this event even though it meant dashing out to the convention center at Porte de Versailles Thursday morning before meeting a friend for lunch near the Louvre. I'll have to plan better next year because I would have happily sampled more donuts, sandwiches, bagels, pancakes and sushi if I hadn't already arranged to eat a "proper" meal.

With more than 300 exhibitors from 65 different countries and an estimated 12,000 visitors, snackable food, described as nourishment that is easily eaten even while standing or in motion, is seen as a model of virtue by the younger generation, who prefer to consume their food more quickly than their parents. According to the information in the press kit, French people eat the same proportion of take-away food as Americans, but the products are very different. Take a look at the photos and let me know what you think!

While I've never seen pizza vending machines in the United States

or crepes made with sprinkle on flavors like apricot, strawberry, coconut and honey,

I've noticed that bagels are becoming more popular in Paris.

Even though the display case full of donuts looked reassuringly familiar, I did have to question why they were serving the pancakes on the top shelf with jam rather than maple syrup.

63% of the sandwiches sold in France are currently made using a baguette and two out of three are made with cheese and/or meat, such as ham. If the 2012 winners of the DeliFrance Sandwich World Cup are any indication, ingredients like marinated sardines, confit tomatoes and lotus root may change the way we think about what we put on our bread. Held in conjunction with the "Sandwich and Snack Show", the sandwiches created by the international candidates are judged on the basis of 5 criteria: practical aspect, aesthetic qualities, originality of the recipe, nutritional balance, cost price less than €2.

As I would prefer buying sweet potatoes that are rich in fiber and vitamins rather than donuts from my local grocery store, I was pleased to see Chef Martial hard at work at the stand for the North Carolina Sweet Potato Commission.

Many thanks to Patricia for telling me about the "Sandwich and Snack Show". It was a delectable treat! Please let me know if you hear about something interesting that's happening in Paris. I truly do appreciate it.

Can you spot the differences?

2012-02-17T13:27:00.004+01:00

Tuileries Garden. September 12, 2011.

Tuileries Garden. February 4, 2012.

Here are two photos taken five months apart from approximately the same spot in the Tuileries Garden - can you spot the differences? Please click on the photos to enlarge, if necessary.

If you have an astute eye, you probably already noticed the empty chairs facing away from the fountain rather than towards it, the bare trees and people wearing jackets instead of short sleeves. But keep looking - there's another difference, although you may need to use a magnifying lens to see it. If you look very closely, it's possible to discern a white obelisk in the top photo. I think you would agree, wouldn't you, that it's remarkable only to those with a keen sense of observation?

That's exactly what I thought when I noticed, yet didn't really notice, the colossal object during my feeding frenzy on September 12. As I passed through the garden, I remember being slightly annoyed that there was an obstruction blocking the quickest route to a big scoop of Berthillon ice cream. Snapping a photo and muttering under my breath about strange structures, I took an alternate path and promptly forgot about it as soon as I tasted my luscious peach sorbet.

That is, I forgot about it until I received a brief email from Joseph last night asking if I had seen Argentine artist Adrián Villar Rojas's sculpture, "Poem for Earthlings" in the Tuileries Garden last fall. Scratching my head and reviewing my photos, I realized that I had seen the 300 feet long extraterrestrial toothpick without understanding its significance. The work of art, which I mistakenly viewed as a hindrance, was destroyed as planned on October 24. After rushing from here to there this week, I'm particularly grateful for the reminder to live in the present moment and appreciate the beauty that surrounds me in Paris instead of thinking about what lies ahead, even if it is Berthillon ice cream!

Did anyone else see Adrián Villar Rojas's creation? The sculpture was on display for less than two months.

Many thanks to Joseph for sending me the link for "Argentine Artist Sticks a Massive Extraterrestrial Toothpick Into Paris's Tuileries Gardens". The slideshow of photos at the top of the article shows the sculpture from different angles.

The end of the extraterrestrial toothpick is barely visible on the left side of this photo.

"What's Eating Paris" - and thoughts on blogging and social media

2012-02-16T09:33:00.006+01:00

David Lebovitz, Trang Minh Lê Bozon, Elodie Fagan, Lindsey Tramuta and Ann Mah.
The guy at the back is probably tweeting about the event!

For the past week, I've been inhabiting the genteel world of Grantham Estate, where people dress for dinner and are reluctant to use that new fangled contraption, the telephone. Unable to pull myself away from the addictive British television series, Downton Abbey, I watched episode after episode in rapid succession and was struck by how many letters were written and received. Studying the characters' faces for signs of joy or grief as they opened yet another envelope, I wondered if the news was good or bad.

"What's Eating Paris", a social media and food event at the American University last night, brought me back to the fast-paced world of blogging, facebook and Twitter, where good and bad news travels around the globe in seconds rather than weeks. Listening to the panel of well-known food bloggers, Lindsey Tramuta, David Lebovitz and Ann Mah, discuss their thoughts on blogging versus community websites, like Yelp and Trip Advisor, gave me much to think about in terms of this blog.

When asked why someone would use their blog over a community website to locate a good restaurant in Paris, all of the bloggers felt that people are looking for someone whose opinion they trust because they've developed a relationship with the blogger. David Lebovitz mentioned that readers have more confidence in someone if they know that the blogger doesn't have an agenda and doesn't write sponsored posts. In response to the question of how bloggers foster these feelings, Lindsey responded that she tries to give a little bit of herself in each post so that people know that there's a real person behind the blog. According to her, recounting personal anecdotes helps create an identifiable voice, while David revealed that his readers have even seen the inside of his bathroom.

Even though the expat bloggers and Elodie Fagan from Yelp Paris were somewhat reluctant to share statistics about the number of people who visit their websites, they all agreed that having a facebook fan page and a Twitter account help increase a blog's traffic.

It's early in the morning and I'm getting ready to head out for the day, but I'm sure that my mind will continue to process much of what I heard last night as I consider what changes I should make to this blog. From time to time, I receive emails with feedback, both positive and negative, about its content and/or layout. If you have any thoughts on something that I should do differently, please write a comment. It would be helpful to have a dialogue about what works and what doesn't - not only about this blog but about blogs in general.

Questions I have for myself: How much do I want to share about my life on the internet? Aren't people more interested in learning about Paris than me anyway? Am I too old to blog, Tweet and have a facebook account? How can I create a sense of community? More words, fewer words? More photos, less photos? and it goes on and on...

"What's Eating Paris" Panel (from left to right):

Ann Mah - journalist, author and blogger. Ann Mah
Elodie Fagan - community manager for "Yelp Paris". Yelp Paris
David Lebovitz - pastry chef, author and blogger. David Lebovitz
Lindsey Tramuta - writer, blogger and cookie maker supreme. Lost in Cheeseland

Click here to see a video recording of the panel discussion.

Happy Valentine's Day - With love from Paris

2012-02-14T16:29:00.006+01:00

I wanted to surprise you for Valentine's Day but didn't know if you would prefer chocolate...

or roses...

or bread from Poilâne that says "I love you" in French...

or some sexy lingerie that's so hot that they had to call the firemen...

or a necklace...

or a necklace with a tiara...

or a message on an official signboard.

Happy Valentine's Day - with love from Paris!

And if you're still looking for more romance, please click here to take a look at Ella Coquine's Valentine's Day post. It's magical!

When I enlarged the following photo, I noticed that the woman is looking at the ring on her left hand. Was this a wedding proposal at Place Vendôme at 12:14 pm today?!?

Looking for love at the American Library in Paris

2012-02-13T12:11:00.008+01:00

I finally joined the American Library on Saturday and really hope that the staff hasn't already labeled me as that desperate middle-aged woman looking for love. Admittedly, I wasn't very discrete. As soon as I had my new library card in hand, I rushed to the books on Paris and started pulling any of the ones with words like "romance", "passion" and kiss" in their titles off the shelves to do some research for this pre-Valentine's Day post. To dilute the steamy theme and make me seem less fervid, I threw in a few decoys, a couple of books about Americans in Paris, but the astute young man at the check-out desk wasn't fooled. Carefully averting his gaze from mine lest I interprete a meeting of our eyes as an invitation to pounce, he kept his attention firmly focused on his computer screen when he printed out my receipt.

While the library clerk may have been somewhat alarmed by my one track mind, love and romance is obviously a hot topic. Just take a look at some of the titles: The Best Places to Kiss in Paris, Naughty Paris: A Lady's Guide to the Sexy City, Every Woman's Guide to Romance in Paris, Paris Passion Places and Romantic Paris.

Thanks to these delicious books, I learned some passionate phrases that they don't teach in French 101 like, "Je me jette à vos pieds" (I throw myself at your feet), which you obviously only do with someone you don't know that well because the author uses the formal "vos" rather than the informal "tes". In that case, I guess that it would have been perfectly appropriate for me to whisper this phrase to the library clerk after flinging my body on his shoes, while I should save the more familiar "Je rêve de toi" (I dream of you) for Stéphane.

It was interesting to note the frequent crossover of restaurants (Le Grand Véfour and Le Train Bleu), cafés (Café de Flore), tearooms (Maison de Mariage Frères), museums (The Erotica Museum and Jacquemart André Museum), and famous couples (Abelard and Héloïse) in the books, but Naughty Paris takes things a step further by revealing where to go for female-friendly toys, male striptease shows and pole dancing lessons. As the library lends books for 3 weeks, I'll soon be an expert on everything and anything to do with love and passion in Paris.

What's your favorite spot for romance? It's Valentine's Day tomorrow and I'm still looking for ideas!

Update: Normally Stephane and I don't go out for dinner on Valentine's Day, but after reading about Le Train Bleu we decided to try it since he's arriving at Gare de Lyon tomorrow evening. As it was already fully booked, we're going to the appropriately named Je thé...me, a play on the French words for "I love you", instead. I'll let you know how it is.

Bassin de la Villette

Sunday's picture and a song - I Will Always Love You

2012-02-12T16:08:00.009+01:00

Pledges of eternal love - love locks on the Pont de l'Archevêché in Paris

Edit: I was going to leave this post free of words but after listening to "I Will Always Love You" and being reminded of how this song and others by Whitney Houston provided the soundtrack for some of my best memories from the 1980s and 90s, I just wanted to say -

Thanks for the music, Whitney!

Beyond Cool! Special-T at the Shangri-La Hotel thanks to "My Little Paris"!

2012-02-11T17:25:00.007+01:00

Special-T and pastries!

One of the most important things that I've learned about living in Paris is that it pays to act first and work out the details later. So, as soon as I received an intriguing invitation from My Little Paris for a romantic tea with my lover at one of the most beautiful hotel suites in the city, I grabbed the phone to make a reservation. All of their other readers must have nimble fingers and lightening fast reflexes because the line was busy...busy...busy. After hitting redial numerous times, it was a relief to hear that there were still a couple of spots left at my preferred hotel, the recently opened Shangri-La, a luxurious five-star hotel near the place du Trocadéro.

The devil is in the details - since Stéphane is in Geneva this weekend and we haven't adopted the Parisian habit of having "his and her" extramarital affairs, I was at a loss as to which lover I should ask to accompany me this morning. Realizing that a single woman would probably look rather strange among the amorous couples, I nonetheless set out for the Shangri-La because there was no way that I was going to miss out on this delightful event just because I don't have a paramour. I'll know better for next time and plan ahead!

After passing through the doors of the Shangri-La, the former home of Prince Roland Bonaparte that has been meticulously restored, I was told to proceed to suite number 41 on the fourth floor. Still feeling slightly apprehensive yet rather adventurous, I rang the bell and was ushered into the two-floor suite with a view of the Eiffel Tower. Sigh... How romantic!

View of the Eiffel Tower from the suite

Walking down the steps to the first level, I was warmly greeted by the Special-T hostesses and a young couple sitting on the couch. The man immediately broke the ice by offering me one of the exquisite pastries, while the hostess explained the range of exclusive teas that are made with a Special-T machine, the Nespresso equivalent for tea aficionados. While sipping my Imperial Black Tea, the young couple revealed that the husband had invited his wife to an unknown destination this morning that just happened to be a beautiful suite at the Shangri-La Hotel. It just goes to show that women aren't the only ones who like to surprise their partners!

One of the charming Special-T hostesses

While we were talking about what a great idea it was to offer people the opportunity to sample tea in such luxurious surroundings, another lone woman walked down the steps. She turned out to be a real estate agent, which was rather serendipitous because Stéphane and I are toying with the idea of buying our own little piece of Paris. All too soon, my second tea was finished and it was time to go, but not before I registered to win a night in the suite. My fingers are crossed that I'll be the lucky winner and that Stéphane will be in town to enjoy it with me.

This was by far one of the coolest things that I've done in Paris! Kudos and thanks to My Little Paris, Special-T, the Shangri-La Hotel, La Belle Juliette Hotel and the boutique Hotel Seven for organizing it. If you're not already on the mailing list for My Little Paris, I highly recommend it. It's one of my favorite sources when I'm looking for interesting and unusual things to do.

Disclaimer: Even though Stéphane works for a certain Swiss multinational that owns Special-T, I wrote about this event because I thought that it was over-the-top fantastic not because of his affiliation with the company. He didn't know about this promotion until he heard my rave reviews.

Shangri-La Hotel

Single in Paris...

2012-02-10T13:17:00.002+01:00

Being single in Paris isn't so bad...even when you're surrounding by happy couples!

Before anyone jumps to conclusions and thinks that the title of this post is the equivalent of a status change on facebook, rest assured that Stéphane and I are still happily married. But in between his traveling for work and supporting his parents during a difficult time in Geneva, I'm "single in Paris". Since the only people I know are married and I don't feel comfortable asking them to leave their families to go out at night, I frequently attend events on my own. And I've got to admit that it isn't so bad because I always end up meeting the most fascinating people.

Take last night as an example. Even though I was tempted to stay home and watch another episode of "Downton Abbey" (I'm hooked!) or wait until one of my kids appeared on Skype, the pull of an author event at the Irish Cultural Center proved too hard to resist. Plus, there was free wine - and I'm a sucker for anything with free wine, especially if it's Le Grand Cru du Languedoc.

After listening to Dr. Véronique Guibert de la Vaissière engaging talk about her field research in Ireland, her affection for the Irish people, her vineyard, Daumas Gassac, and her new cookbook, Savours and Flavours of Mas Daumas Gassac, I had a great time sipping sparkling rosé and chatting with other people who were on their own. In an off-beat mixture of Franglais, I had a lively conversation with a 20 year old Frenchman who professed his undying love for New York and Miami. Imagine his disappointment when I told him that I'm from the Midwest. To make matters worse, when I tried to evade his question about where I live in Paris by mumbling the response, he practically shouted, "Mais, le 16th - ca c'est la plus pire arrondissement for someone young like me. There's nothing there!"

By this point, our animated conversation had attracted a French actress, who is also known as the macaron queen by her friends. Even though she has lived in Paris for 30 years, she revealed that she had only discovered Ladurée two years ago when she noticed a long line in front of the restaurant on rue Royale. She laughingly told me that up until that point she had only thought that standing in line is what actors do while looking for work. She never realized that people would queue up for something to eat...until she discovered those little bites of heaven and then started making them herself. Her speciality is mint chocolate.

So, if you don't want to sit at home or in your hotel room by yourself, check out the schedule of activities for the fifteen cultural centers in Paris. Here's a partial list to get you started:

Irish Cultural Center
Japanese Cultural Center
Swiss Cultural Center
Danish Cultural Center

Click HERE to see the complete list of cultural centers in Paris. If you're interested in a particular country, sign up for their monthly newsletters for advance notice about upcoming events.

C'mon Paris - Give the people who don't speak French a break!

2012-02-09T13:55:00.006+01:00

While there's no way that I want all of the cafés in Paris to start boasting about their English speaking employees like Maison Teissedre, I was pretty annoyed when I first noticed the following sign on the door of the Musées des Arts Décoratifs on Saturday.

Imagine that you're a visitor from Asia - make that a shivering visitor from Asia because it's really cold in Paris - and you arrive at the entrance of the museum. You've been looking forward to seeing their extensive decorative arts collection ever since you booked your trip 6 months ago, so you're extremely disappointed to see the red barrier blocking the entrance and this sign on the door. What does it say? Moving your head from side to side, you try to make sense of it and are just about ready to give up when you see someone scurrying past. You haltingly ask for help in English, the other language that you speak besides your own.

This really happened - I know because I was hustling to get out of the cold when a timid young Asian woman approached me for help with the sign. She sighed with relief when I explained that the door was closed because of the cold weather and that she could still visit the museum by using the main entrance located on the rue de Rivoli.

I snapped a photo of the sign but didn't really plan to use it for a post until I was, once again, hustling to the museum for a tour yesterday and almost slammed into the red barrier. I should have known that the door was closed because there was a large group clustered around the sign trying to figure out the words while the security guard stood inside and motioned dramatically with his hands.

After telling the group of Russian tourists that they could enter the museum on the opposite side of the building, I had plenty of time to fume about the fact that there still wasn't a sign in English on the door as I hurried to the entrance on the rue de Rivoli. I understand that I live in France and that the national language is French, but as the most visited city in the world, Paris could give the people who don't speak French a break...especially when it's so cold outside!

To lighten the mood after my rant, here are a few other signs that I saw yesterday:

I think I may know why the French don't post many signs in English. "I was in love in Paris" sounds tragic. Questions like, "What awful thing happened in Paris?" and "Why are you no longer in love?" popped into my mind as I studied this sign in the window of Cityrama, a company that organizes tours of Paris and France. Compare the English sign with the one in French that proclaims, "St. Valentine's Day in Paris is romantic".

And finally, just in case my Swiss editor needs some help remembering the date, this sign in a chocolate store on rue Saint-Honoré is counting down the days until the big V -- that's right Valentine's Day.

Photo taken on Saturday - 10 days until Valentine's Day

Photo taken on Wednesday - 6 days until Valentine's Day

Yes, they're really that good - L'As du Fallafel in the Marais!

2012-02-08T18:04:00.003+01:00

L'As du Fallafel's overstuffed falafel sandwich is like an explosion of flavors and textures in your mouth. Crunchy, smooth, slightly spicy, all delicious!

The visitor may vary, but the conversation is always the same:

MK: Do you like falafels? Cuz if you do, we should go to L'As du Fallafel while we're in the Marais.
Visitor: Yeah, I like falafels...but I can get pretty good ones in (insert name of city).
MK: Well, these are supposed to be the "world's best".
Visitor (intrigued but doubtful): Are they really that good?
MK: Let's go and you can tell me what you think.

Visitor: Why are all of those people standing in line?
MK: That's the falafel place.
Visitor: Are they really that good? I mean, is it really worth the wait (eyes glance over to the falafel place across the street without a line).
MK: They're the best I've ever had.

Visitor (still skeptical as (s)he glances around the restaurant): Well, everything looks alright.

Schwarma sandwich

Our food arrives and visitor takes a bite.

Visitor: (talking around a mouth stuffed full of food) Mmm, they're delicious. I can't believe how good this is! It's the best falafel sandwich I've ever had!!!
MK: (completely quiet because I'm too busy savoring each and every bite).

During a recent Jewish History Tour of the Marais with Sight Seekers Delight, I learned that L'As de Fallafel sells 6-700 falafels per day at their takeout window. That total doesn't seem to include the number sold in their restaurant. It's no wonder that they're so darned good - everything is freshly made.

For the uninitiated, falafels are chickpea fritters fried to a lovely shade of crispy brown. Sandwiches are made with fluffy pita bread, hummus, fried eggplant, sliced cucumbers, pickled red cabbage, tomatoes and a creamy sauce.

L'As Du Fallafel :
34 Rue Des Rosiers
75004 Paris
Closed Friday afternoon and Saturday

And to make things even better - the restroom at L'As du Fallafel is one of the cleanest I've seen in Paris.

L'As de Falafal is so memorable that it served as the inspiration for the chickpea fritter sandwich at Clover Food trucks in Boston.

Behind the Scenes at Gobelins Manufactory

2012-02-07T20:04:00.003+01:00

Chancellerie, Gobelins tapestry (1680).

Before my visit to Gobelins Manufactory, the historic royal tapestry workshop currently run by the French Ministry of Culture, I would have looked at the above tapestry and merely thought "nice colors" before switching my attention to something else. Equipped with my newly acquired knowledge, however, I was excited to see the Gobelins tapestry hanging in the stairwell of the Nissim de Camondo Museum because I now know that:

It would have taken five weavers approximately four years to produce a tapestry this size. As the work is painstakingly slow, each weaver only completes about 1.5 square meters (1.8 square yards) per year! Weavers don't get to pick the tapestry on which they work, which means that they may spend four years on a design that they don't particularly like. To protect the dyes, the workshops use natural lighting with the exception of a brief period during the winter when artificial lighting is used in the afternoon.
The tapestry is old (1680) and a royal commission because the fleur-de-lis (lys), symbolizing French royalty, is no longer included in Gobelins tapestries, not even in reproductions of older tapestries with a fleur-de-lis in the original motif.
The famous Gobelins scarlet originated from the fortuitous location of the dye-works on the Bièvre River, where the large quantity of urine in the water helped fix the red dye made from cochineal insects.
It isn't one of the tapestries that Louis XIV used as a savings account because there aren't any gold or silver threads woven into the design. Evidently, bulky tapestries were a good place to store your fortune because they were too cumbersome for thieves to steal.

Galerie des Gobelins

It's possible to visit the Gobelins Manufactory by booking one of the tours offered in French at 1:00 pm on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays with FNAC. Admittedly, the tour stretched my comprehension skills because it encompassed an entirely new vocabulary of French words, such as high-warp looms and low-warp looms. Nonetheless, it was fascinating to see this ancient art used to turn paintings by contemporary artists into carpets and tapestries. My favorite was "Arrachement" by Andre-Pierre Arnal, whose exhibition I attended last September.

A few other things that I found interesting:

Tapestries were originally hung on walls or in front of doors to reduce drafts.
Louis XIV was the first to put carpets on the floor in France. He commissioned ninety-three Savonnerie carpets for the Grand Galerie of the Louvre.
As a national manufactory, Gobelins only accepts commissions from the government. Tapestries and carpets are given as diplomatic gifts to other countries and used in government offices.
The manufactory was closed briefly from 1694-97. When our guide mentioned that the Revolution and two World Wars didn't stop the production of tapestries, only an economic recession, one of the Frenchmen on our tour joked that it should be closed now.

Gobelins Manufacture
42 avenue des Gobelins
75013 Paris

Many thanks to Véronique Kurtz for organizing our visit to Gobelins!

"The Chaste Suzanne" in Napoleon III's apartment in the Louvre. Gobelins Manufactory, Neilson workshop, 1757-1761.

Forget about work - it's a snow day!

2012-02-06T07:53:00.007+01:00

If you were expecting a regular post today, I'm sorry. There's something so magical about the first snowfall of the season, even if it happens in February, that I'm officially declaring it a snow day. So, put on your mittens, grab your warmest coat and let's go to the Luxembourg Gardens. Please click on any of the photos to enlarge.

A dad and his daughter let me take a photo of the miniature snowman that they were taking home.
Just the right size for a Parisian apartment.

And then I spied "ZC", a snowman with suicidal tendencies or a Parisian attitude.
Yes, ZC has a cigarette in his mouth - good thing he doesn't have a match to light it!

The snow didn't stop these kids from having fun on their trotinettes...

or this woman from doing her Sunday yoga practice in the park.

Palais de Luxembourg. Off limits in the snow.

Moms at work - bundling babies, little kids...

and big ones, too!

Memories of summers past...

"Yes, it's a real 'Dior for Dogs'! Where's yours, big guy?"

Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Up close and personal with a lion. The frozen fountain at St. Sulpice make a good ice skating rink.

Sunday's pictures - It's cold in Paris. Better bundle up if you're going to the Tuileries Garden!

2012-02-05T08:35:00.005+01:00

Forget the little Eiffel Tower trinkets made in China--this clever entrepreneur knows what everyone needs in Paris this week. Hats!

Update - It's snowing in Paris!

After preparing this post last night, I woke up to a light dusting of snow. I can't wait to go out and play. Please click on any of the photos that you would like to enlarge.

Slip and slide...or is that slip and glide.

Catching the last rays of sunshine.

Fur coats and long shadows.

Who is that masked man?

Paris is still beautiful...even when it's freezing.

It's bitterly cold in Paris - where's "our" homeless guy?

2012-02-04T12:55:00.007+01:00

Our homeless guy's bench. He's a bit of a hoarder.

I'm a mom and one of the identifying characteristics of moms is that we tend to worry. My worries range from the mundane (Are my adult aged kids brushing their teeth before going to bed?) to the more global (Is Iran developing a nuclear weapon?). With below freezing temperatures in Paris this week, I'm currently worried about "our" homeless guy.

Just like the baker, the waiters at the cafe and the man at the newsstand, our homeless guy is an integral part of the neighborhood. Well, we actually have quite a few a homeless guys - there are two in front of the bank who offer helpful advice about how to open the door with your bank card; one in front of the grocery store who always says, Bonjour, madame, and asks for spare coins; one in front of the bakery who looks at me with soulful eyes and an outstretched hand; and "our" homeless guy. With a perpetually jaunty step and upbeat attitude, he's an enigma. What's his story? Why is this guy living on the street?

Since I can see his bench from our living room window, I frequently find myself checking on his well-being. He's fastidious and regularly gives the entire area a good scrub before rearranging all of his belongings under various waterproof tarps. In the morning, he airs out his bedding and then stows it away for the day. I know that he gets fresh water from the Wallace fountain behind our apartment in the summer, but what does he do during the winter?

But even more importantly, he's missing. I haven't seen him for the past couple of days. My only hope is that he's in a shelter. According to a bulletin on the official website for the city of Paris, there are an additional 550 temporary beds in gymnasiums and 140 beds in shelters during periods of extreme cold. According to a recent article in Le Figaro, there are an estimated 5,000 homeless people in Paris.

It's freezing cold out there!

If you see a homeless person who is in dire need of social assistance, call 115 (Samu social). For an emergency, call 15 (Samu) or 18 (firemen).

Our homeless guy scrubbing the area around his bench. Come to think of it, his pile of belongings has grown considerably since I took this photo in August. He really needs a home where he can store all of his stuff!

I'm one of the ladies who lunch...with Julia Child!

2012-02-03T22:10:00.005+01:00

Yes, this Frenchman is wearing a pig snout. We'll get to that in a minute. I promise.

Yesterday morning was bitterly cold - so cold that I put on two thermal undershirts, one turtleneck and another sweater. While I looked like a little kid ready to go out and play in the snow, I was actually going for a walking tour featuring some of the places that Julia Child frequented when she was a resident of Paris.

Julia Child's apartment building, 81 rue de l'Université, affectionately known as "Roo de Loo".

Our first stop was Julia's apartment, which she described as follows:

In the meantime, I had discovered an apartment building for rent that was large, centrally located, and a bit weird. It was two floors of an old four-story hôtel particulier, at 81 rue de l'Université. A classic Parisian building, it had a grey cement facade, a grand front door about eight feet high, a small interior courtyard, and an open-topped cage elevator.

View of the building from the interior courtyard. Julia's apartment was on the 2nd and 3rd floors.

As an incredibly rare treat, our tour guide had organized a brief meeting with the woman who is the daughter-in-law of the owner of the building when Julia lived there. Madame charmed us with tales of her in-law's relationship with the Childs and said that Julia was fondly remembered for her cheerful personality, which reminded me of one of my favorite passages from My Life in France:

The sweetness and generosity and politeness and gentleness and humanity of the French had shown me how lovely life can be if one takes the time to be friendly.

After visiting the former site of the Cordon Bleu Cooking School before it moved to the 15th arrondissement and Julia's favorite kitchen-equipment store, E. Dehillerin, we were ready for lunch at Au Pied de Cochon, the legendary Parisian restaurant that hasn't closed its doors since 1947. Unlike Julia, however, we didn't dine in the wee hours of the morning:

After the club closed, at 3:00 a.m., we went on to Les Halles [the old market in Paris] and walked around admiring the "forts des Halles"--the barrel-chested market workers--unloading crates of fresh watercress from trucks, stacking freshly cut flowers, and preparing for the day. It was cold and dark, but the vast marketplace was beautiful under splotches of yellow electric light. As dawn lightened the edges of the sky, we found ourselves at "Au Pied de Cochon" for a traditional bowl of onion soup, glasses of red wine, and cups of coffee. At five-fifteen, we straggled home.

Lunching with Julia Child!

According to Philippe, the man in the first photo, there's a traditional song that people sing while gathered at Au Pied de Cochon. Like a determined choir director with a rather strange nose, he had us rehearse before joining us in a rousing performance of La Chanson du Pied de Cochon. His hard work and dedication earned him a kiss on the check from one of the ladies who lunch. I'm sure that Julia would have approved. Oh, la, la - that's one happy Frenchman!

Au Pied de Cochon

6, rue Coquillière

75001 Paris

Open 7/7 and 24/24 - it never closes!

The tragic history of the Camondo family - Nissim de Camondo Museum (Part 1)

2012-02-02T21:12:00.007+01:00

Mrs. Leon Reinach born Beatrice de Camondo her children Fanny and Bertrand Reinach the last descendants of the benefactor and Mr. Leon Reinach were deported in 1943-1944 and died in Auschwitz.

Twenty-two years ago, my stomach was growing on a daily basis - not because I was eating loads of milk chocolate in Switzerland but because I was pregnant with our son. As we crossed potential baby names off our list, friends and family asked about the remaining possibilities and offered their opinions. Michael - doesn't sound good in French; Brandon - too American; David - too Jewish, a comment that was also made about Joshua, Daniel, Joseph and any other names associated with the Old Testament.

So, it didn't come as much of a surprise when our guide concluded the tour of the Nissim de Camondo museum yesterday by telling us that some French people still wouldn't want to give their child a Hebrew name. What was most sobering about this statement is that we were standing in the bedroom of Nissim, who was killed while fighting for France in World War I and whose sister, Béatrice, died in Auschwitz on January 4, 1945.

To truly appreciate this gem of a museum and its exceptional collection of 18th century French decorative arts and furnishings, it's crucial to know a bit about the history of the Sepharadic Jewish family, known as the Rothschilds of the East, who left their sumptuously furnished mansion to the French government.

After fleeing Spain in 1492, the Camondos established themselves in Venice before moving to Constantinople (Istanbul) and became bankers to the grand vizirs of the Ottoman Empire. As their fortune increased, the family made significant contributions to education and public service in Constantinople, for which they are still recognized.

In 1868, the Camondos transferred their holdings to Paris, where Count Moïse de Camondo acquired one of the world's finest collections of 18th century French furniture and artwork. When his only son and remaining male heir to the family fortune, Nissim, was killed in an air battle in 1917, Moïse bequeathed his mansion and collection to the Musée des Arts Décoratifs after his death in 1935. His only stipulations were that the house was to be maintained as a museum named for his beloved son and that all of the objects should be left where he originally placed them.

The photo of Nissim on Moïse's desk is a poignant reminder of the ultimate sacrifice that this Jewish family made for France.

Tragically, even though Moïse's only daughter, Béatrice, had converted to Catholicism prior to the German occupation of France and believed that her wealth and position in society would protect her from the Nazi roundups, her family was arrested and sent to Drancy concentration camp. They were deported by the Germans and died at Auschwitz.

If you're interested in learning more about this period in French history, The Hare with the Amber Eyes tells the story of a wealthy Jewish family who were the Camondo's neighbors. Even though this book has been on my list for quite a while, I'm pleased that I waited to read it until after my visit. Another one that was recommended is Pictures at an Exhibition.

When you visit the Musée d'Orsay, be sure to look for the paintings by Manet, Monet, Cezanne, Degas and Renoir that Isaac de Camondo, Moïse's cousin, bequeathed to the Louvre. He also donated hundreds of pieces of Asian art that are now at the Musée Guimet.

A future post will feature some of the exquisite items on display at the Nissim de Camondo Musuem.

Musée Nissim de Camondo
63, rue de Monceau
75008 Paris

Nissim de Camondo Museum (Musée Nissim de Camondo)

Good news, bad news - It only took a couple of minutes (and 70 days) to get my French driver's license!

2012-02-01T13:02:00.006+01:00

Waiting in line to pass security. The man in the green jacket and aviator's cap is the one who had a gun.

The good news is that I finally have my French driver's license...70 days after I first applied! The bad news is that I had to give up my career as a truck driver to get it. Here's a timeline of events:

November 22: Stephane takes the day off from work to get our driver's licenses. Having done this in many countries, we mistakenly think that it will be an easy task. After scrutinizing all of our supporting documents, petty bureaucrat denies my application because my Swiss passport does not indicate my maiden name and place of birth. I generously offer to tell her, but she responds that she needs an official document, such as a birth certificate - translated in French, of course. Denied!

Stephane sympathizes with me, but I can tell that he's secretly relieved that he doesn't have a maiden name and will soon have his French license. But then...petty bureaucrat questions why Stephane signed our apartment lease when we were still in Switzerland. She hints that perhaps we still live there and have ulterior motives for wanting French licenses. Stephane, who is normally the calm one in our family, cracks under the pressure and makes a remark about the stupidity of the system to petty bureaucrat. She's not pleased. Denied!

November 23: We stuff the contents of our 3-drawer filing cabinet into a portable file and return to the Prefecture de Police. We wait. Our numbers are finally called and another petty bureaucrat asks for a slew of completely different attestations and documents. Stephane whips them out with lighting fast efficiency in an obvious battle of Swiss organization versus French petty bureaucracy. He's determined to beat the system. When Stephane disappears to make yet another copy of an obscure document, petty bureaucrat and I have the following conversation in French:

PB: You will receive a letter in the post informing you of the date of your medical check-up.
MK: Why do I need a medical check-up?
PB: For your truck driver's license.
MK: (Certain that I had misunderstood) Excuse me, but I don't want a truck driver's license.
PB: Well, it's included on your Swiss license. You can give it up if you want (looks at me suspiciously because she believes that I'm going to give up my career as a truck driver and live off the social welfare system in France).
MK: If I give up the truck driver's license, do I still need a medical exam?
PB: No
MK: OK, I'll just take the driver's license for cars.

The back of my Swiss driver's license apparently indicates that I can drive semi-trucks!

Stephane finally reappears and relinquishes his career as a truck driver, too. [What's really funny is that PB wouldn't give me a license because she didn't know my maiden name but was prepared to let me drive a huge semi-truck in Paris because she misunderstood the classification system of Swiss vehicles. That's scary!]

Approved! Now, we had to wait for the invitation from the police to pick up our licenses.

December 12: We receive letters inviting us to present ourselves at the police station after January 20. The invitation includes a long list of documents to bring with us.

February 1: Stephane and I leave home at 7:50 am, ride the metro for 40 minutes to Porte de Clignancourt and wait in the freezing cold to pass security. We end up waiting a lot longer because one of the guys in front of us has a gun with rubber bullets. As policemen scurry to encircle the man, Stephane and I make our way to the all too familiar second floor. After showing another petty bureaucrat all of our papers (again!), we sit down and wait.... Stephane receives an email from his boss saying that he needs to go over a presentation with him before noon. More minutes tick by.... PB calls us to her desk a couple of times to ask if North Dakota (where I was born) is in the United States and to demand another attestation. Stephane develops a maniacal look in his eyes and comments that he understands why the man in line had a gun. I worry about Stephane's sanity and pat his arm. Finally, we're told that we'll receive our licenses in a couple of minutes. And, we did - a couple of minutes plus 70 days!

Now that I've received my driver's license, I need to upgrade my status from "newbie" in Paris to something else. Any ideas?

My French driver's license! It took petty bureaucrat 1 hour and 4 minutes to review our documents (for the 3rd time!) and to issue our driver's licenses.

Brrr! Baby, it's cold outside, but it's perfect weather for onion soup at Carette's

2012-01-31T11:14:00.004+01:00

Fur coats are out in abundance. They're a good idea if you want to enjoy the terrace at Carette's tearoom!

After months of warmer than average temperatures, the bitter cold came as a rude shock while I was wandering around the upper 16th arrondissement yesterday. Fortunately, I had spied Carette's tearoom as my bus navigated the Place du Trocadero, so I promised myself a bowl of their rich onion soup capped with gooey cheese as a reward for successfully completing my errands. Even though nothing went the way I planned - the doctor's appointment didn't happen because of an administrative error (theirs, not mine!) and the Filipino grocery store wasn't where I thought it would be - I made it to Carette's shortly after 2:30 pm and settled into the cozy art-deco environment like a cat next to a warm fire.

With a thick layer of melted cheese, the generous portion of onion soup was the perfect antidote for my chilled fingers. The baguettes, however, are better enjoyed as part of the onion soup than as a sandwich. And even though I don't like to admit it, I did indulge in a pot of their lusciously rich hot chocolate and a mini macaron for dessert. Delicious!

While Carette's Tearoom has been known for its pastries since 1927, I was equally impressed by the professional yet caring attitude of the staff, who went to great lengths to help the elderly gentleman seated next to me. It's people like these who easily dispel the myth that all Parisians are rude.

Although I find Carette's tearoom a bit pricey, it's a good destination for a special treat on a cold day.

Carette
4 Place du Trocadero
75016 Paris
Open 7 days a week from 8:00 am until midnight

25 Place des Vosges
75003 Paris
Open 7 days a week from 8:00 am until 11:30 pm

The grey skies and bone chilling weather had me thinking of snow, but there wasn't a flake in sight yesterday.

The miniskirt is 50! How did that happen? Vintage fashion show at St-Ouen and some Monday morning musings on aging.

2012-01-30T09:57:00.000+01:00

"Mini, mini, mini" - the free Pierre Cardin exhibition at the Marché Dauphine until February 20, 2012.

One of the problems with getting older is that it occasionally (almost always?) catches you off guard. My first thought when I heard that the vintage stores in St-Ouen were going to have a fashion show to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the miniskirt was, "Wow! That's old." And then I started doing the math and realized that miniskirts are only one and a half years older than me. Ouch!

To make matters worse, when I googled "how old miniskirts" to learn more about the origins of this iconic symbol of the swinging sixties, the top search results surprised me. According to a recent survey in Britain, no one wants to see me in a miniskirt because I'm over the age of 35. And that's not all. Since I'm also older than 47, I can forget about wearing a bikini (no problem, there!) and shouldn't even think about putting on any kind of swimsuit once I'm past the age of 61. Hmm, I'm not quite sure what I'll cover my body with when I'm at the pool. Maybe swimming isn't allowed either!

Knowing full well that it would be inappropriate for me to be tempted by any of the leg-baring fashions on the runway, I nevertheless followed the sounds of French singer Jacques Detronc's "Mini, mini, mini" to the Marché Dauphine only to discover that I had forgotten the battery for my camera at home. The body, the brain - does everything go down hill after the age of 35?

Still, I have something that the young models wearing miniskirts don't have. I have the memories of my parents telling my older sisters to walk up the stairs at home to check the length of their miniskirts so that they wouldn't be sent home from school for indecent exposure. With the advent of the fashion revolution, the sixties were a scary time for parents. Miniskirts, go-go boots, bikinis...

Do you have any miniskirt memories of your own? If you're like me and need some help jump-starting your aging brain, listen to "Mini, mini, mini" as you scroll through some photos from the fashion show and the Pierre Cardin exhibition featuring miniskirts from 1962-70 at the Marché Dauphine. Entry is free on Saturday, Sunday and Monday until February 20, 2012.

Photos of the Pierre Cardin exhibition taken with my iPhone:

From the fashion show:

Sunday's pictures (lots of them) - Chinese New Year in Paris

2012-01-29T09:18:00.008+01:00

Please click on any of the photos to enlarge and view as a slideshow.

Happy Year of the Dragon - "The Grand Tour" of Europe from The New Yorker

2012-01-28T10:51:00.005+01:00

Crédits photo : S. Berkoukeche / Mairie de Paris

Dragons will parade through the streets of Paris this weekend as residents celebrate the most auspicious year of the Chinese zodiac, the Year of the Dragon. While most Chinese citizens spend this holiday with their families, many use it as an opportunity to travel to Europe.

"The Grand Tour", an article by Evan Osnos in the April 18, 2011 edition of The New Yorker, provides an intriguing view of Paris and other European cities as seen through the eyes of a group of Chinese tourists who are hustled from one sight to the next while visiting five countries in ten days. To whet your interest, here are a few of the points that I found particularly fascinating:

Li [the tour guide] asked us to make sure we hadn't left anything behind [at the hotel], because some of his older travelers used to have a habit of hiding cash in the toilet tank or the ventilation ducts. "The worst case I've had was a guest who sewed money into the hem of the curtains".
"We have to get used to the fact that Europeans sometimes move slowly, he [the tour guide] said. When shopping in China, he went on, "we're accustomed to three of us putting our items on the counter at the same time, and then the old lady gives change to three people without making a mistake. Europeans don't do that." He continued, "I'm not saying that they're stupid. If they were, they wouldn't have developed all this technology, which requires very subtle calculations. They just deal with math in a different way."
By the fourth day on the road, we no longer thought twice about riding three hours in the morning and another three in the afternoon, separated by cultural excursions. When we stopped for snacks and bathroom visits, we spoke to nobody outside our ranks. We were as mobile and self-contained as a cruise ship.
We had been in Europe for a week and had yet to sit down to a lunch or a dinner that was not Chinese. (Nearly half of all Chinese tourists in one market survey reported eating no more than one "European style" meal on a trip to the West.) But Li warned that Western food would take to long to serve...
When the travel industry polls the [Chinese] public on its dream destinations, no place ranks higher than Europe.
Last year, more than fifty-seven million Chinese people went abroad, ranking China third worldwide in international tourism. The World Tourism Organization predicts that before the end of the decade China will double that.

Please click HERE to read the entire article. Many thanks to my daughter Sara for telling me about it. Interested in China? You can read more articles by Evan Osnos on his blog, Letter from China.

Happy Chinese New Year, everyone! It's time for me to get ready to take photos of the parade starting at the Hôtel de Ville.

To see the schedule for all of the Chinese New Year parades in Paris, please click HERE.

Looking for a home exchange in Boston...

2012-01-27T12:06:00.008+01:00

While the view of the Eiffel Tower from our balcony is a big plus for a home exchange, I think that it would be more difficult to resist our disco shower (see below).

Our son is worried, very worried, because his college graduation is fast approaching and his slacker parents still haven't reserved a hotel room. Our last phone conversation went like this:

Ph: So, have you booked a room yet?
MK: No, but I'm going to start looking this week.
Ph: That's good cuz Stefan's (one of his three roommates) parents haven't been able to find anything.
MK: Well, if we don't find anything, Dad and I'll just stay at your apartment.
Ph: (Nervous laughter) Well, ah, yeah. Or maybe you could sleep at Sara's (his sister's) place.
MK: Sara doesn't have enough space. We'll just have to stay in your room and Stefan's parents can have his room. You said that we'd like them, so this will give us a good chance to bond.
Ph: (More nervous laughter as he imagines me sharing embarrassing childhood stories about him with Stefan's mom at 8 o'clock in the morning). Yeah, right. Well, you should really start looking for something.

What I didn't tell Philippe is that he shouldn't worry because there's no way that I want to stay in an apartment with 4 guys in their early twenties - I just like watching him squirm! Plus, after years of reminding him to do this or that, it feels good to be the slacker for a change.

So, instead of exploring Paris, I've been perusing listings for Boston on HomeExchange. While many people don't like the idea of strangers staying in their home, I think that it's a great concept. In the past couple of days, I've exchanged emails with people who are excited by the prospect of living like a local in Paris, just as I am at the thought of exploring their neighborhoods.

Intrigued by the idea of doing a home exchange but still not sure if it's for you? The Holiday with Kate Winslett and Cameron Diaz may convince you. If your schedule is flexible, it's a wonderful way to travel. Our 5 most recent offers have come from people in England, California, South Carolina, Quebec and Florida.

Our disco shower/sauna comes equipped with a radio, a mirror, a seat, alternating colors and multiple jets to wash every inch of your body. Philippe took these photos to send to his girlfriend while visiting in December. I don't even want to know why!

Lunch and a visit to the Paris Wine Museum

2012-01-26T14:23:00.010+01:00

I like wine, wine cellars and learning about wine, so I really expected to enjoy the Wine Museum of Paris. After getting a glimpse of the vaulted restaurant while on a walking tour of the 16th arrondissement, I returned on a particularly nasty day a couple of weeks ago. Perhaps it was the driving rain or the throat thing that I was developing, but I left with a vague feeling of disappointment.

After studying the museum's website, I decided that the 29€ Terroir lunch menu was a good deal because the price includes the 11.90€ entrance fee. What I didn't consider beforehand is that the two items that I couldn't resist, scallops with foie gras and roasted rack of lamb, would come with a surcharge of 3€ and 5€ respectively. Add a glass of wine and my delicious lunch was suddenly 42.29€. In all fairness to the museum, the menu did offer 4 starters and 2 main courses that didn't come with an additional charge.

While the ambiance was convivial, the food was well-prepared and the waiter threw in some free French lessons, in a charming rather than condescending manner, something didn't feel right -- maybe it was the red folding chairs and bare tables that made the historic cellar feel more like a seminar room than a dining establishment. With a couple of candles (even fake ones), it would have been so cozy and romantic!

An onion shaped heater used to make cognac.

Picking up a free handheld audio guide in English at the entrance desk, I learned that the Wine Museum is located in an ancient limestone quarry and that the vaulted cellars were used by the friars of Passy Monastery to store wine during the 16th and 17th centuries. After renovations in 1950, the Eiffel Tower restaurant stored wine in the cellars before they were converted into a museum by the Cup-bearers of France Council, a brotherhood dedicated to the appreciation and promotion of French wine.

Among the displays of wax figures corking champagne and making barrels, there was one showing Napoleon on the battlefield drinking his favorite wine, Chambertin, from Côte de Nuits in Burgundy.

Trick pitchers from the 18th to 20th centuries

While the display cases are filled with every imaginable item having to do with wine, ranging from commemorative glasses to tools used to trim grape vines, these trick pitchers caught my attention. Because of the open design at the top, the wine at the bottom can only be poured by blocking a small opening hidden in the handle.

Even though the museum showcases a wealth of objects, I was underwhelmed by the poor-quality, free audio guide in English, which was a shame because many of the descriptions were only written in French.

Would I recommend the museum to my visitors? Yes, but with some reservation.

If you had a different experience, please let me know. As I already mentioned, I really did expect to like this museum, especially since wine and Paris are almost synonymous. I may return for one of their wine tasting classes. The next one in English is on February 18, 2012.

Paris Wine Museum
5/7 Square Charles Dickens
Rue des Eaux
75016 PARIS

The 11.90€ entrance fee includes a glass of wine.

Bottles of brandy were given on special occasions - Number 9 (from the early 20th century) a bottle of brandy in a casket marked the end of a bridegroom's days as a bachelor and number 3 (19th century) was a small cask given to a conscript.

Napoleon Bonaparte's major contribution to the culinary arts - preserved food

2012-01-25T10:21:00.007+01:00

Carrots preserved on November 29, 1938 and peas preserved on July 16, 1942.
Since my father-in-law had just told me that it was prohibited to sell fresh bread in Switzerland during World War II, I was amazed that these jars of vegetables remained uneaten. Bread could only be sold after it had been aged 48 hours to stop people from eating too much of it. As a result, my father-in-law still has a preference for stale bread.

Napoleon Bonaparte's name is more likely to conjure the image of a man commanding his troops than of one concerned with the culinary arts, but when the French government offered a prize of 12,000 francs to the person who could develop an effective method for preserving food, Napoleon took his place in culinary history.

As the French army suffered more casualties from scurvy, malnutrition and starvation than from enemy muskets, Napoleon recognized the need to provide preserved food for his troops as they advanced into Russia during the Napoleonic Wars.

Fortunately, Nicholas Appert, a candy-maker, brewer and baker, had the idea to preserve food in bottles, in the same manner as wine. After experimenting with different methods for 14 years, he discovered that food did not spoil if it was packed in bottles, corked and submerged in boiling water. Napoleon, pleased to have a secret weapon that he thought would help him to defeat his enemies, personally awarded Appert the winning prize in 1809.

Realizing that it would be more practical to preserve food in metal rather than glass, British inventor Peter Durand received a patent for creating a cylindrical canister made out of iron coated with tin. Interestingly enough, the can opener wasn't invented until 1858. In the meantime, soldiers used knives, bayonets or even rocks to open their rations.

L'Art de Conserver, the book written by Nicholas Appert describing the method of sterilization, which is known as "appertisation" in French.

If you're interested in food, the Alimentarium in Vevey is a fascinating place to spend a couple of hours. While talking with one of the museum guides about Nicholas Appert's contribution to food preservation, she told me that she was surprised that most of the children who come to the museum don't know the season for fruits grown in Switzerland. I guess that's to be expected since our global supply chain allows us to buy strawberries in January and oranges in July.

Preserved strawberries, pears, cherries, raspberries and abricots. Are you smarter than a 7 year old?
See if you can put them in the order that they appear in Switzerland.

Writing this post reminded me of Barbara Kingsolver's entertaining book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, in which she recounts the story of her family's resolution to grow their food themselves or to buy it locally for an entire year.

Alimentarium - Food Museum
Quai Perdonnet
Vevey, Switzerland

Tuesday-Friday: 10am-5pm; Saturday-Sunday: 10am-6pm

Alimentarium - Food Museum, Vevey, Switzerland

Seen from the shore - Vevey, Switzerland

2012-01-23T17:44:00.002+01:00

Sunday's picture and a song - Blue Suede Shoes...with silver spikes!

2012-01-22T11:20:00.003+01:00

Wondering what's all the rage in men's shoes in Paris? Silver spikes! I didn't see one pair without them in the Christian Louboutin window displays in his boutique at the Galerie Véro-Dodat.

Lost in translation - extinction de voix, opera and Angelina's hot chocolate

2012-01-21T10:49:00.000+01:00

I lost my voice this week - at least that's what I would say in English. According to the French pharmacist and the description on the box of homeopathic tablets that he suggested I take, my voice isn't lost -- it's extinct, like the dinosaurs, which is rather more worrisome. The product description also indicates that the tablets may be taken for vocal cords that are fatigued.

While I don't think that my problem stems from overly tired vocal cords, the opera singers that I saw at the lunchtime concert on Thursday certainly gave theirs an intense workout while singing Jewish Folk Poetry, Op 79 by Dimitri Chostakovitch. Listening to the heart wrenching "Lament for a Dead Infant" and "Before a Long Separation" was an emotional experience made even more intense by the intimate setting in the studio at the Opera Bastille. At 5€, the hour long performances are a real treat. Please click here, to read more about these concerts.

Even though the pharmacist didn't prescribe Angelina's hot chocolate, it seemed like a good idea to drink some after fighting the crowds at the Hermé's sale on Thursday afternoon. Fortunately, Angelina's at the Palais de Congrès didn't have a long line of people waiting to get inside like the one on Rue de Rivoli. But wait a minute, isn't there something missing?

Ahhh, yes - a big dollop of whipped cream!

And speaking of chocolate, I'll be in Switzerland until Tuesday, so the next posts may feature something from the land of cheese and chocolate, or I may catch up on the backlog of posts that I still have to write about Paris. Time to go catch the TGV. Fortunately, I remembered to download a movie on my laptop this time, so I'll be traveling in style!

An invitation for a behind-the-scenes tour of Hermés with Kate (Mais Oui Paris)

2012-01-20T17:34:00.015+01:00

Ali Baba's cave?! No, it's just one of the glittering window displays at Hermés.

Imagine, if you will, me sitting on bus 72 squinting at the screen of my iPhone to read the Twitter feed rather than looking out the window to admire the Eiffel Tower, the Place de la Concorde and the Louvre. Right about the time that the bus pulled away from Pont Neuf, I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, re-read the following tweet and felt a pang of jealousy.

Kate Mai @maihem 12 Jan

Off to tour Hermes atelier. Not bad for a Thursday morning. Hoping for party favors!

What! How did Kate, an even "newbier" newbie to Paris than me, manage to get inside the hallowed doors of the Hermés workshop? For a few seconds, I felt like the kid who read a tweet from her friend Charlie saying that he had just found the last golden ticket to Willie Wonka's chocolate factory inside his Wonka Bar. Fortunately, it didn't take me long to snap out of it and realize that I would also get to have a glimpse inside the Hermés workshop because Kate's a fellow American expat blogger. Talk about good luck! Since I thought that some of you would enjoy reading about the unique special orders, like an Hermés apple carrier, that the artisans produce and seeing Kate's behind-the-scenes photos, I asked if I could link to her post. Being a warm-hearted native of Texas, she kindly agreed. So, click on over to Mais Oui Paris if you would like to join Kate on her tour of Hermés.

Other news: The Hermés Private Sale is January 18-21. Rather than write a post about my visit to the sale yesterday, here's the link for one that I wrote last June. The only difference between the two is that I spent about 40 minutes waiting in line to get into the sale and then another 30 minutes waiting for my turn to look at the scarves, which are now 175€ marked down from 292€.

Harnesses and saddles were some of the first items produced by Hermés.

Who is Théophile Gautier and why is there a street named after him?

2012-01-19T20:39:00.005+01:00

Avenue Theophile Gautier, 1811-1872, Writer and Critic

Whenever I'm walking around Paris, I'm hit by a barrage of information. Some of it makes sense and some of it doesn't. One of the questions that I've had for some time concerns Théophile Gautier - who was he and why is there a 550 meter long street named after him? If you speak French, you're probably grinning because you read the sign and already know that he's an author. But what did he write?

Feeling like a detective, I was pleased to find an additional clue about Gautier in an unlikely place -- the exhibition, Pompeii: an art of living, at the Maillol Museum. Amongst the silverware, ceramics and erect phalluses that represented the life force to Pompeians, there was a signboard next to the body casts of the victims that read:

In the middle of the 19th century, Théophile Gautier's short story Arria Marcella: Souvenir de Pompeii (1852) famously described a fragment of solidified ash bearing the mark of a young girl's breast, discovered in the Villa of Diomedes in 1772. This fragment was taken to Naples where it aroused great curiosity before finally crumbling into dust.

Aha, he wrote a short story! Wondering if there was anything else that I should know about Théophile Gautier, I pulled Alistair Horne's Seven Ages of Paris: Portrait of a City from the bookshelf and was amazed to see that there are six entries about him. Here's one from the section, Morale Collapses, that tells about the heinous conditions during the Siege of Paris:

By mid-December Henry Labouchère, the 'Besieged Resident' of the London Daily News, was telling his readers, 'I had a slice of spaniel the other day', adding that it made him 'feel like a cannibal'. A week later he reported that he had encountered a man who was fattening up a large cat which he planned to serve up on Christmas Day, 'surrounded with mice, like sausages'. Théophile Gautier claimed that cats and dogs in the city rapidly sensed their changed status:

Soon the animals observed that man was regarding them in a strange manner and that, under the pretext of caressing them, his hand was feeling them like the fingers of a butcher, to ascertain the state of their embonpoint*. More intellectual and suspicious than dogs, the cats were the first to understand and adopted the greatest prudence in their relations.

*Since embonpoint is not a word with which I was familiar, I looked it up at dictionary.com. It means excessive plumpness or stoutness.

Things that caught my eye while out and about...

2012-01-18T20:36:00.003+01:00

An instrument with legs? I usually rush past people in the long corridors leading to the metro, but the sight of this young woman caused me to slow down, walk behind her and smile to myself. What a gift on a grey day in Paris! And best of all, she agreed to pose for a photo.

Posted at eye level, there was no way that I could walk past the newsstand without noticing this cartoon with the caption, "Saved thanks to PIP implants" with the sinking Italian cruise ship in the background. Shortly before Christmas, French health authorities advised 30,000 French women to have their defective breast implants removed.

The enticing smell of this choucroute garnie (sauerkraut cooked in white wine and garnished with sausage and cured meat) wafting through the frigid air of the market at Place Monge caught my full attention this morning. It's one of my favorite foods to eat on a cold day and would have made a delicious lunch if I wouldn't have been so far from home.

Still in Paris? Sipping mint tea in the brightly colored tearoom of the Paris Mosque is like an invitation to travel to a far away land, even if it's only for a short time.

After a reconnoissance visit, I decided that one of these days I'm going to be scrubbed, massaged and steamed in the hammam (steam rooms) at the Paris Mosque. Understandably, I couldn't take photos inside the hamman because people were scantily clad, but the colors of the waiting room gives an idea of the atmosphere of the interior rooms. The hammam is reserved for women on Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday and for men on Tuesday and Sunday.

Edit: If you would like in-depth information about the hammam, please read "The Hammam Experience" by Totally Frenched Out.

The eternal dilemma - to get off the metro at Javel or Église d'Auteuil. This is the question that inevitably plagues my mind while riding the metro home. I can either get off at Javel, which I really didn't want to do today because the cold wind whipping across the bridge can be brutal, or I can get off at Église d'Auteuil, which is conveniently located right next to my bakery. Knowing that there's no way that I can walk past my bakery without going inside, I resisted the Siren's call of chocolate eclairs and watched this barge making its way up the Seine instead.

Apprentis d'Auteuil - Vintage fashion, household items, English books and more

2012-01-17T22:03:00.001+01:00

While people are frantically fighting over the last red sweater or the perfect pair of boots during the semi-annual sales in Paris, I decided to check out a little-known place where savvy shoppers can find reasonably priced vintage clothes, household items, books in English and French, coats, toys, and hats throughout the year. And best of all, the proceeds support the Apprentis d'Auteuil, a Catholic organization that welcomes, educates and trains boys and girls ranging in age from 6 to 21 years old.

The foundation's mission is to integrate the 13,000 youths, who were in difficult situations, into society as responsible adults. Each of the children benefits from personalized attention designed to develop their individual characters and are assisted in selecting from 12 different trades, including the hospitality industry, construction, agriculture, education, sports, and science.

Even though I frequently pass the Apprentis d'Auteuil on my way to the post office and have been wanting to dine at the Brasserie d'application, where the students prepare and serve meals, it wasn't until yesterday that I discovered that there is also a second-hand store full of inexpensive treasures. Simone, an English woman who volunteers in the boutique on Monday and Tuesday, showed me the collection of English books for 2€ and leather bound antique books that attract enthusiastic dealers. She advised me to get there as soon as the doors open because that's when they've newly replenished their shelves.

If you live in Paris, the Apprentis d'Auteuil gladly accepts articles in good condition every day from 7:00 am until 9:00 pm.

Apprentis d'Auteuil

Boutique: Auteuil Bonnes Affaires

40, rue Jean de la Fontaine

75016 Paris

Open Monday-Saturday from 11:00 am until 6:30 pm.

Let's go shopping! If you see something you like, click on the photo for a closer view.

Simone, the English volunteer who works at the Apprentis d'Auteuil on Monday and Tuesdays, in front of the leather bound books.

Donations waiting to be sorted. What do you suppose is in the the Louis Vuitton bag on the ground?!

Touching a different part of the elephant - Grace, an illegal immigrant

2012-01-16T18:43:00.004+01:00

As I mentioned in a post a couple of weeks ago, my experiences as an American expatriate in Paris differ from those of other residents. Therefore, I would like to inaugurate a new feature called, "Touching a different part of the elephant" by introducing you to Grace*, an illegal immigrant, and the woman whose descriptions of the city first made me realize that I need to do more than just touch the elephant's tusk if I want to have a better understanding of the entire beast.

When Stephane and I are transferred to a new country, his company pays for language lessons and hires a relocation expert to help us find housing, connect our utilities, set up a bank account, select a school for our children -- in short, they assist us with almost everything and it still isn't easy.

Compare that with Grace, who financed her move to Paris by selling her house, car and small businesses in Saint Pablo City in the Philippines, thus giving her the money to gamble, as she puts it, on a better life for her husband and two young daughters. At the age of thirty-six, Grace said good-bye to her family and boarded a plane for the first time in her life. After asking if she was terrified about moving to a new country where she doesn't speak the language, Grace told me that thoughts of her children and providing for their future gave her courage. While she was deliberately vague about the specific route that she took to Paris in March 2010 because she doesn't want to cause problems for future migrants, she revealed that she landed in another European country and spent many hours traveling by train to France.

If you've ever spent much time in the 16th arrondissement, you've probably noticed that the majority of fashionably dressed babies and small children are being cared for by women who aren't their mothers. There's such a large community of Filipinos, both legal and illegal, working in this elegant district that a couple of ethnic grocery stores selling durians and dried fish have invaded the stylish boutiques, florists, and luxury food stores. Through this network, Grace was able to start earning money by giving manicures and pedicures to her compatriots until one of her friends introduced Grace to her employer as a trained masseuse. Her healing hands and ability to work the last vestiges of stress out of her clients' bodies is what prompted another American expat to enthusiastically recommend Grace to me.

During our first meeting last June, Grace and I compared notes on life in the Philippines, where I had lived on the remote island of Mindanao that has the reputation as an unruly place where foreigners are frequently kidnapped, versus Paris where I usually feel safe wandering around on my own. Grace revealed, however, that it's very different for her because Filipinas are prime targets for thieves since they know that many of them are illegal immigrants who won't report crimes committed against them to the police for fear of being arrested themselves. Additionally, Filipinas and other illegal immigrants are known to carry large sums of cash because many of them don't have bank accounts and don't want to leave the money that they're saving to send home to their families in the meagre rooms that they rent.

Curious to know how Grace would describe Paris, the city that most people consider to be the most romantic in the world, I was surprised when she replied that it's strictly a place for her to earn money. Not quite believing her, I started listing the city's virtues -- the Eiffel Tower, the Seine, the museums, the cafés -- to which Grace replied, "It's not the same when you're alone, without your family." Her goal is to earn enough money to bring her husband to Paris later this year. Their two daughters, who are 13 and 5, will stay with Grace's mother in the Philippines until they can raise the funds for their plane tickets. In the meantime, Grace sends money home for their schooling, books, uniforms (all of which are not free in the Philippines), and additional lessons because she wants her daughters to excel in school.

I've had the pleasure of meeting Grace's husband and youngest daughter via Skype because she's usually chatting with her family on her iPhone as she takes the public transportation from one job to the next. Even though she's far away, she yearns to be present in their lives and to participate in important moments, like when her youngest daughter wants to show her the latest moves that she has learned in ballet class.

Those of us who move to Paris come here for different reasons and under different circumstances. Grace came here to build a better life for her daughters. I hope that she achieves her goal.

*Please note that Grace is an alias and that the photos of her and her daughters have been blurred to protect their identity.

Sunday's picture and a song - Sous le ciel de Paris

2012-01-15T13:40:00.001+01:00

Is speaking French a bad thing? Only if you want to be the president of the United States.

2012-01-14T11:51:00.005+01:00

Can you read this plaque about the Statue of Liberty? If so, perhaps you shouldn't run for public office.

Since my daughter and I chat almost daily on Skype, I knew that she had something fairly significant to tell me when I received a rare email from her yesterday afternoon. Discovering what that was, however, turned out to be a bit of a treasure hunt because the vague subject line only said, "have you seen this...". Opening the email, I found the next clue, "Kind of ridiculous!", with a link to a BBC article. Getting closer to the meat of the matter, I clicked on the link and read the title:

"Mitt Romney lambasted in attack ad for speaking French - Quelle horreur! Republican presidential front-runner Mitt Romney has been skewered in a new political attack ad - for speaking French."

Oh, no - I finally understood. Sara wanted to inform me that my lofty political aspirations are dead in the dirt. With a cheesy accordion soundtrack playing in the background, an ad released by Newt Gringrich prior to the primary in South Carolina presents damning evidence against the Republican Party front-runner: a closeup of Mitt Romney smiling as he says, "Bonjour, Je m'appelle Mitt Romney." Mon Dieu! I regret the day that I set foot in a French classroom -- now I'll never be the first woman President of the United States!

Raised to believe that you don't talk about sex, politics and religion at the dinner table or on a blog called, "Out and About in Paris", this isn't about politics but rather about the perceptions by some Americans that their compatriots who speak a foreign language aren't patriotic. Is this really the message that we want to send to our children when we should be striving to maintain our global competitiveness?

According to official statistics by the Chinese government, there are approximately 300,000,000 English learners in China.

According to the US Census Bureau, the current US population is 312,849,759.

Excuse me while I put my pina colada down: blogging from a tropical paradise, the Jardin des Serres d'Auteuil!

2012-01-13T17:11:00.008+01:00

Technically, I wasn't really drinking a pina colada and I also wasn't blogging from a tropical paradise because I was wrong about the wireless internet access, but I did lug my laptop to the Jardin des Serres d'Auteuil, the main botanical garden in Paris with a large complex of greenhouses, in the hopes of working in this steamy environment. I even wore a short sleeve t-shirt! Had I been thinking, I would have checked out the official interactive map that indicates the 400 locations, including many parks and municipal spaces, where you can access the internet for free before setting off this morning.

Nope, no wireless connection here. Next time I'll bring a book and a pina colada!

But enough about the liberties that I've taken with the truth in the title of this post. The lush palm trees, vibrant red, pink and yellow hibiscus flowers and feathery ficus trees reminded me of the days when we lived in the tropics and delicate hummingbirds paid daily visits to the flowers outside the kitchen window.

Jardin des Poètes

If you need a tropical break from the grey skies that have been plaguing Paris for the past days, take metro line 10 to the station, Porte d'Auteuil, and pass through the charming Jardin des Poètes (Poet's Garden). As you meander along the path, it's pleasant to read the numerous plaques with excerpts written by famous French authors including Victor Hugo, Paul Valery and Charles Baudelaire, but don't let them detract you from your goal, the greenhouses that house more than 5,000 varieties of plants.

The garden, which was originally created by Louis XV, is an oasis of peace and tranquility -- but hurry if you would like to visit. Located next to Roland Garros Stadium, home of the French Open, the French Tennis Federation has received approval to "expand to include part of the Auteuil Greenhouses Garden and feature a new 5,000-seater court which spectators will be able to reach via a walk through the gardens." Click here to read the 5 year expansion plans outlined on the Roland Garros website and to read a CNN article about the controversy caused by this decision.

Tips: please note that some of the doors of the greenhouses are hard to open. If you're there during opening hours, just turn the handle and give it an extra hard tug. The front door on the left of the main greenhouse was locked, but the one on the right was open. Even though part of the main greenhouse is currently closed for renovations, it didn't detract from my visit.

Jardin des Serres d’Auteuil
3 Avenue de la Porte d’Auteuil
75016 Paris

Metro: Porte d'Auteuil

Open 7 days a week. Winter hours: 10:00am – 5:00pm; Summer hours: 10:00am – 6:00pm. Entrance is free.

Put on your flip-flops and sunglasses and join me for a photo tour. Click on any of the pictures that you would like to enlarge.

A riddle for the day - Name the famous American who had this to say about E. Dehillerin

2012-01-12T18:42:00.010+01:00

Timeless: E. Dehillerin is the same today as it was in 1949 - and perhaps the same as it was when it opened in 1820.

Due to a throat/head thing that I've been fighting all week, I'm taking the day off from writing. In my place, a famous American describes E. Dehillerin, a store specializing in professional cooking equipment:

Eventually we arrived at Dehillerin. I was thunderstruck. Dehillerin was the kitchen-equipment store of all time, a restaurant supply house stuffed with an infinite number of wondrous gadgets, tools, implements, and gewgaws---big shiny copper kettles, turbotières, fish and chicken poachers, eccentrically shaped frying pans, tiny wooden spoons and enormous mixing paddles, elephant-sized salad baskets, all shapes and sizes of knives, choppers, molds, platters, whisks, basins, butter spreaders, and mastodon mashers.

Seeing the gleam in my eyes, Chef Bugnard took me aside and introduced me to the owner, Monsieur Dehillerin. I asked him all sorts of questions, and we quickly became friends. He even lent me money once, when I had run out of francs shopping at Les Halles and the banks were all closed. He knew I'd repay him, as I was one of his steadiest customers. I had become a knife freak, a frying pan freak, a gadget freak---and, especially, a copper freak!

Can you guess the name of the author? The words, "knife freak", are a big clue!

Need another hint? The passage describes the author's visit to E. Dehillerin in 1949, even though these same words could just as easily have been written in 2012.

E. Dehillerin
18 et 20 rue Coquillière - 51 rue Jean- Jacques Rousseau
75001 PARIS

Hours Mon 9am-12:30pm and 2-6pm; Tue-Sat 9am-6pm. Closed Sun and holidays.

Big enough for a crowd!

Steak knives

Whisks

And the "must have" item in a professional kitchen - Eiffel Tower cookie cutters in three different sizes!

I'm versatile - Thanks MademoisElla Coquine for the award!

2012-01-11T14:28:00.004+01:00

Brrrnnngggg (that's the doorbell). Flowers. Flower delivery for MademoisElla Coquine to say thank you for presenting me with the Versatile Blogger Award!

As Mlle Ella's ability to weave lone words into entertaining stories always leaves me impressed, I feel truly honored that she decided to pass the Versatile Blogger Award to me. Reading her blog, Tales from the Chambre de Bonne, usually makes me laugh, occasionally makes me blush and always makes me admire this single woman who remains firm in her resolve to create a life for herself in Paris, even when she encounters some sketchy characters along the way. Thanks, Mlle Ella!

Now comes the hard part because I'm supposed to share 7 things, or "fun facts", about myself that aren't already posted on my blog.

7. I don't like Speculoos spread even though most people think that it's as addictive as crack cocaine. Since I feel guilty about throwing things away, I tried to pawn the jar off on our daughter by telling her that she would like it even though I suspected that she wouldn't. It's still taking up space in the pantry.

6. I'm not always out and about in Paris - lots of the time I'm at home in my pajamas (even at noon) in front of a computer screen. It freaks me out when there's an unexpected delivery and I have to answer the door looking like a sloth -- but not enough to make me get dressed before I'm ready to go out.

5. One of my most exhilarating experiences was reaching the summit of Semeru, an active volcano in Indonesia, and seeing it cast a perfect conical shadow on the island of Java at sunrise. After a grueling hike and a sleepless night worrying that the howling wind would tear my tent from the side of the mountain, I clawed my way to the top in the dark past the graves of people who had died during the same ascent and momentarily felt invincible. And then I had to turn around and go down.

4. I still think that Anderson Cooper is sexy, even after his giggling fit while reporting about Gerard Depardieu urinating on an Air France plane in front of the other passengers. When I was in high school, I had a crush on Robert Plant (Led Zeppelin) - my how things have changed.

3. One of my most challenging, yet gratifying, experiences was returning to school as a "mature" student to finish my bachelor's degree because there's nothing more daunting than walking into a classroom full of people half your age. Fortunately, they accepted me and I loved being a student so much that I started working on a master's degree. My dream was to complete a Ph.D., but we were transferred back to Switzerland. Who knows, maybe I'll get one when I'm 60.

2. I gladly accepted the offer to stay a couple of days with two men whom I didn't know after contacting them to propose a home exchange when I wanted to visit our son during his first year at college in Boston. Even though Stephane and my friends expressed some concern, it turned out to be a wonderful experience and they're still my "friends in Boston".

1. And now for one of my deepest, darkest secrets that most of my friends don't even know - Stephane asked me to marry him 5 days after we met and I agreed. Our children think that it's romantic but are amazed that their normally conservative parents were ever so impulsive.

Whew! Now that the hard part is finished, I get to have the pleasure of passing the award to Joseph, whose blog, Joseph the Butler Recommends, encompasses versatility. Whether he's busting Martha Stewart for the incorrect placement of cutlery or giving advice on how to select the right champagne for your New Year's Eve bash, Joseph's blog is a delight to read. Plus, he reminds me to slow down and savor the simple joys of doing things, like making pomanders with Stephane, Sara and Philippe for Christmas.

Thanks again, Mlle Ella, for honoring me with the Versatile Blogger Award! I hope that your future plans include writing a book because you're very skilled at conveying the essence of your friends (and enemies) in a most captivating manner. It's a gift to be shared...

Our Christmas pomanders inspired by Joseph's blog - Stephane's is the one with the Eiffel Tower, of course!

Figuring things out: How to find a doctor in Paris

2012-01-10T16:02:00.007+01:00

As I mentioned in an earlier post, one of my chief duties as an expat is figuring things out. Unfortunately, I would have to give myself low marks in figuring out the French medical system -- it's just something that I haven't wanted to do. One of the main reasons is that I'm tired of developing relationships with doctors only to move as soon as I've become semi-comfortable parading around in their examining room stark naked because there are no such things as modesty and paper gowns in Europe. And even though I've collected recommendations for dentists, doctors, etc., most of them aren't in our neighborhood, so it seemed kind of silly to take the metro to another arrondissement when there are lots of doctors nearby.

Thinking that I would have plenty of time to figure out the doctor situation once our children returned to Boston, I was completely unprepared when what we originally thought were some bug bites on Sara's foot started to spread and look suspiciously like poison ivy* and when I noticed an ugly looking mole* on Philippe's shoulder that wasn't there the last time that I had seen him. Switching from lethargic expat into motivated mommy mode, I told Stephane that we needed to get two appointments with a dermatologist as soon as possible.

Fortunately, a Frenchwoman had advised me to ask our closest pharmacy to recommend a local doctor, so Stephane went to talk with them while I called the American Hospital in Neuilly-sur-Seine. As soon as Stephane mentioned that we were new to the neighborhood and needed a doctor, the pharmacist pulled out an official list with the names of all of the physicians for whom they had received positive feedback. Within an hour, we had secured appointments with one of the recommended dermatologists for the same day -- pretty amazing when it can take 3-6 months to even get your foot in the door with a dermatologist in the United States and Switzerland. I know because one of my pet peeves is that dermatologists are usually busy doing Botox treatments when you need to see them for something that's potentially urgent.

I'm pleased to report that the dermatologist is very good and that I scheduled an appointment for myself on Friday. The only drawback is that she doesn't speak English, something that came as a bit of a surprise because I'm used to doctors in Switzerland who generally speak several languages.

If you need immediate medical attention in Paris, please refer to Anne's post about SOS Médecins, doctors who make house calls 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Their phone number is 3624.

US Embassy's list of English speaking doctors.

*Sara's spreading inflammation was probably poison oak that she got while at a conference in San Francisco. As poison ivy, oak and sumac is very uncommon in Europe, the dermatologist was excited to see the rash first hand.

*Philippe's mole was the re-pigmentation of the skin from a mole that hadn't been completely removed by the dermatologist in the USA last summer. I had no idea that moles can grow back and now understand why doctors in Switzerland and France prefer to excise them with a scalpel.

Monday Morning Musings - Harry's Bar in Paris

2012-01-09T20:28:00.005+01:00

Harry's Bar - the oldest cocktail bar in Europe.

If you start writing "Monday Morning Musings" in the afternoon, do they still qualify as morning musings or evening excogitations?

When Stephane and I were walking behind Sara and Philippe on our way to the bus stop recently, Stephane shouted, "You should see Mom, she looks so happy!" to which Philippe replied, "Ha! I bet she's beaming." And I was - I was beaming because I'm happiest when our family of four is together.

Which probably also explains why American expatriates have been flocking to Harry's New York Bar ever since it was dismantled and shipped from New York City to Paris in 1911. With its faded college pennants and dark wood panelling, the oldest cocktail bar in Europe feels familiar and friendly - kind of like home. As the bar was frequented by the likes of Ernest Hemingway, Rita Hayworth, Humphrey Bogart and Coco Chanel, we decided to go there for Philippe's last evening in Paris. In addition to being known for its distinguished patrons, Harry's Bar is also famous for the creation of the White Lady, the Bloody Mary, the Side Car, the Blue Lagoon and many other legendary cocktails. Even though I don't expect to be a frequent visitor to "sank roo doe noo", which is how ads instruct Americans to pronounce the address for Harry's Bar, the most famous watering hole in Europe, if not the world, is worth a visit if you're in the mood for a bit of camaraderie.

As Harry's Bar has been organizing a straw vote for the American presidential elections since 1924, I plan to return in November. It will be interesting to know the results, which have only been wrong twice in 87 years and 25 elections!

Harry's Bar
5 Danou Street
75002 Paris

Sunday's picture and a song - Chocolate Arc de Triomphe and Aux Champs-Élysées

2012-01-08T13:20:00.003+01:00

Chocolate Arc de Triomphe

After writing yesterday's post about the Arc de Triomphe and the Opéra Garnier, I remembered this photo taken at the Salon du Chocolate. And what better song to accompany it than Joe Dassin's Aux Champs-Élysées, which many people were singing on New Year's Eve.

Can the Arc de Triomphe fit inside the Opéra Garnier?

2012-01-07T15:07:00.005+01:00

The Arc de Triomphe is 50 meters (164 ft) in height, 45 m (148 ft) wide and 22 m (72 ft) deep.

The next time that you're gazing up at the full height of the Arc de Triomphe, take a moment to ask yourself if it would fit inside the rectangular area where the stage is located in the Opéra Garnier. The answer is -- yes, it will! That's just one of the many fascinating facts that I learned during my recent tour of the famous opera house built on the orders of Napoleon III.

This cross section of the Opéra Garnier shows the height of the area above the stage, where the scenery may be raised and lowered. The stage, consisting of a flytower and an under-stage area, is 60 meters (197 ft) high, 48.5 m (159 ft) wide and 27 m (88.6 ft) deep, making it larger than the Arc de Triomphe.

Even though I've already written a post, Over-the-top Opulence: The Palais Garnier, I thought that I would share some of the photos taken during my recent tour with Stephane and Philippe. It's still opulent and shouldn't be missed!

Garnier brought mosaicists from Venice to create the glass mosaics on the ceilings and the tile ones on the floors because it was not an art that was practiced in Paris when construction started on the Opéra Garnier in 1861.

The ceiling in the Sun Rotunda.

The Grand Foyer. Photo credit: Philippe.

Too much gold? Then take a break at the recently opened L'Opéra Restaurant. If you've already eaten there, I would love to know what you thought because it's on my list of places to try.

Photo credit: Philippe

Figuring things out: How to dispose of your Christmas tree in Paris

2012-01-06T16:50:00.002+01:00

The Christmas tree collection point - it looks like a holding pen for naughty trees! The white truck in the background is taking a load of trees to the chipper.

Over the past couple of weeks, we've bonded with our French Christmas tree. From early in the morning until late at night, it's twinkling lights and sparkling ornaments have been the focal point of our living room. It was a silent, yet benevolent, observer while we opened presents, sipped champagne and enjoyed our evenings together. So, there was no way that I was going to let it end up in an ignominious heap of dried branches on the curb.

Knowing that I had to find a solution prior to Epiphany, which is when we traditionally take down our tree, I visited the official website for the city of Paris and discovered that there are 100 recycling points. After I removed all of the little Eiffel Towers, Ikea spice cookies, Carrefour ornaments and the lights that we never really figured out how to stop from spasmodically blinking, Stephane and Philippe cut the tree into two manageable sections and carried it down five flights of stairs. [Note: If I would have been involved in this part of the tree removal, I would have wrapped it in a sheet to avoid leaving a trail of dried branches on the steps that someone else had to clean up!].

As the closest collection point to our apartment was in a tranquil pocket park that had previously escaped our attention, it was well worth the short walk to dispose of our tree in an environmentally friendly manner. Plus, we like knowing that it will help beautify the city's parks and gardens.

Number of trees collected during previous years:

15,000 trees in 2007-2008
25,000 trees in 2008-2009
27,000 trees in 2009-2010
29,000 trees in 2010-2011

Please click HERE for additional information and to find the closest collection point.

If you're unable to take your tree to a collection point prior to January 22, 2012, you can leave it next to the green garbage bins for regular collection.

Our collection point was located in this beautifully serene pocket park that's only a short stroll from our apartment.

Le Jules Verne Restaurant on the second level of the Eiffel Tower: well worth it for a once in a lifetime experience

2012-01-05T16:21:00.006+01:00

If you're going to be in Paris in April and have some Euros to spare, go online and book a table next to the window at Le Jules Verne restaurant on the second level of the Eiffel Tower. Why April? Because it's recommended to make reservations at least three months in advance if you want a table with one of the best views of the city. As our family rarely knows what we're doing two weeks ahead of time, we dined at one of the interior tables and still enjoyed the spectacular view.

The entire process was memorable from start to finish. After deciding to take our children for the 85€ weekday lunch as opposed to the 200€ dinner, Stephane reserved online and clicked on the option to send an e-vite to Sara and Philippe. It didn't take long for our two starving students to gladly accept our invitation.

Walking past the long lines of people shivering in the cold while waiting to visit the Eiffel Tower, we made our way to the private entrance located at the South pillar and tracked the progress of the elevator by watching the red dot on the screen as it carried enthusiastic patrons 125 meters (410 feet) to the restaurant.

On our way to the dining room, we took a quick peek at the staff hard at work in the kitchen of this one-star Michelin restaurant, where Alain Ducasse and Chef Pascal Féraud have created a modern French menu.

These ultra-slim knives and forks immediately caught Philippe's attention. They were removed prior to our first course.

With an eye for design, Philippe appreciated the restaurant's contemporary decor with a honeycomb pattern on the ceiling, walls and plates, the carbon fiber and leather chairs designed by Patrick Jouen and the fabric covered walls with small interior windows strategically placed to emphasize the imposing gears and iron framework of the Eiffel Tower.

The honeycomb design on the bottom of the Limoges plates.

Dining on one of the most iconic structures in the world turned out to be a culinary delight. As always, click on any of the photos shown below if you would like to have a closer look at the 1) pumpkin soup amuse-bouche, 2) moulded farm-made egg, gold caviar and crayfish reduction, 3) Grand-Veneur style venison, winter vegetables, 4) Savarin with armagnac according to your choice, Chantilly. 5) Assortment of pastries. [English descriptions taken directly from the menu].

Without a doubt, our lunch at le Jules Verne will feature in familial conversations for years to come. Walking with our arms around each other and glancing over our shoulders for a parting view of the Eiffel Tower, we all agreed that it's an experience that everyone should have at least once in their lifetime. We're thankful that we shared it together.

Le Jules Verne

Eiffel Tower

75007 Paris

Will I finally get to wear the crown? Three Kings Cake (Galettes des Rois)

2012-01-04T23:09:00.004+01:00

Three Kings Cake with a gold crown for the King (or Queen!).
The King is the person whose piece of cake contains the plastic figurine or fève (broad bean).

Certain things are meant to remain a mystery but when our daughter noticed the Three Kings Cakes (Galettes des Rois) making their annual appearance, she couldn't control her curiosity any longer and asked why our family always had two kings instead of one on January 6 (Epiphany). Deciding that it was the right moment to share a family secret, I revealed that I had always planted two little kings in the cake so that both of our children would have the pleasure of being named "King (and Queen) for the Day". After pondering the wily ways of her mother, Sara asked why her father and I never found one of the little plastic kings or broad beans in our cake by mistake, thus forcing me to confess that it was all part of the plan. Just like a gambler marks a deck of cards, I marked the location of the figurines when I baked our Three Kings Cake to ensure that Sara and Philippe would find them.

This year, however, chaos may reign supreme on January 6 because we're going to buy a cake from our local bakery and the location of the lone plastic statuette will be anyone's guess. Perhaps I'll finally have the good fortune to be crowned "Queen for the Day"!

Interestingly enough, President Sarkozy won't be able to wear the gold paper crown because French presidents aren't allowed to "draw the kings" on Epiphany. In accordance with etiquette, a traditional galette minus the plastic figurine and crown will be served at the Elysée Palace.

While looking for my recipe for Three Kings Cake, I came across these notes that Sara took when she learned how to make a Three Kings Cake at the Alimentarium in Vevey, Switzerland many years ago.

Meeting the French - a visit with furrier Frédéric Keskinidès and his family

2012-01-03T14:51:00.009+01:00

Even though I snap lots of photos while walking around Paris, there are many shots that I regret not taking - like the one of a woman carrying a fur purse as she strolled down the rue Saint-Honoré. On its own, a simple fur tote probably wouldn't have caught my attention, but this one had little animal heads (sable?) and furry feet bouncing up and down. The sight brought me to a dead halt and prompted me to remark to Stéphane that other than adorning the bag, the dangling pelts didn't serve any purpose. Fashionable? Not to me.

Which is why it may come as a surprise that my visit to Frédéric Keskinidès' workshop with the company, "Meeting the French," was one of my most memorable tours to date. With obvious pride, Mr. Keskinidès, who was awarded the title Un Des Meilleur Ouvrier de France (One of the Best Craftsmen in France), explained that his grandfather immigrated to France from Greece, as did many of the furriers in Paris, and started the family business in 1931. It was passed down from his grandfather to his father and then to Frédéric, who completed one internship with his father and two with Christian Dior.

Knowing that many people, including Brigitte Bardot, "would rather go naked than wear fur", Mr. Keskinidès told us that France was the first country to outlaw jaw traps and that only 5% of the furs come from wild animals. The other 95% are from animals raised in captivity in Norway, Denmark, Sweden, the United States, Canada and China. Regulations stipulate the size of the cage, the food and the amount of time that babies must be allowed to spend with their mothers before being transferred to individual cages.

While Mr. Keskinidès explained the tanning process and discussed the merits of different types of fur, his father was busy bringing out samples of mink, sable, fox and beaver pelts for us to examine and offering us cups of thick Greek coffee. Rather than feeling like just another tour group, the Keskinidès warmly welcomed us into their family, especially when Mr. Keskinidès' two children arrived home from school and greeted us with kisses on both cheeks.

Thanks to Mr. Keskinidès' careful tutelage, I'm now able to judge the quality of a mink coat based on the consistency of the color and texture of the 20-30 pelts that were used to make it. As female furs differ from males furs in size and color, it's important that the furrier respects the nature of the pelt as each one is cut into strips and pieced together to make a coat.

Useless knowledge? Perhaps, but as an astonishing number of women, both young and old, are wearing fur coats now that the temperature has dropped to a bone chilling 48℉ (9℃) in Paris, I find my eyes checking for imperfections and remembering the enjoyable afternoon that I spent with Mr. Keskinidès and his charming family back in May.

My visit was organized by Meeting the French. If you would like to read posts about other tours that I have done with them, please use the "Search This Blog" function.

Keskinidès Furrier
26 Rue Pierre Semard
75009 Paris

Colorful furs, like the ones on the right, seem to be the fashion right now. Depending on the quality of the work, a mink coat costs approximately 10,000 € ($13,000).

Happy New Year 2012! - Celebrating on the Champs-Élysées

2012-01-01T11:44:00.002+01:00

Waiting to welcome in the New Year on the Champs-Élysées.
Sara took this photo while perched on Stephane's shoulders.

Imagine the sound of hundreds (thousands!) of champagne bottles being uncorked when all of the glass bottles that had been carefully concealed from the police magically appeared along with plastic champagne flutes at midnight. If you want to make some fast friends on New Year's Eve in Paris, bring extra glasses and offer a bit of bubbly to your neighbors. That's what we did and collected lots of "Bonne Années" and even a "Belle Année" from a French woman who was celebrating on her own and was happy to share the first minutes of 2012 with us.

2012 - just a few minutes "old".

A huge crowd of revellers waited in vain for a firework display near the Eiffel Tower last night. It sparkled for five minutes, just as it always does at the start of every hour, as Stephane and I turned towards home at 1:00 a.m.

A creative and decorative (?) way to dispose of plastic champagne flutes.

No doubt about it, a lot of champagne was consumed in Paris last night.

Still trying to figure out what to do on New Year's Eve in Paris

2011-12-31T11:21:00.003+01:00

The clock is ticking down the minutes to midnight and Stephane and I still haven't figured out how to celebrate our first New Year's Eve in Paris. There will be champagne - but not the little individual bottles called "Pop" by Pommery that seem to be all the rage right now judging by the brisk sales at Galeries Lafayette.

Whatever we do, we won't have to pay for transportation because the metro, bus and the RER are free from 5:00 pm on December 31 until 12:00 pm on January 1.

If we decide to go to the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, which is where most people gather to welcome the New Year, we won't take a Velib because all of the stations in the 8th arrondissement and around the Champs des Mars are closed.

And we won't see explosions of blue and red over the Eiffel Tower because, contrary to popular belief, there aren't any official firework displays in the city.

Since Sara and Philippe have been invited to celebrate with Jean-Arthur, perhaps Stephane and I will have a quiet evening at home and play cards. Poker, anyone?

Here's a toast to the future, a toast to the past,

And a toast to our friends, far and near.

May the future be pleasant;

The past a bright dream;

May our friends remain faithful and dear.

~Anonymous

The Avenue des Champs-Élysées will be crowded with revellers tonight. Photo by Sara.

Kunitoraya - THE place to go for udon noodles in Paris

2011-12-30T17:51:00.007+01:00

During one of our Skype conversations at the beginning of December, I asked my son if there was anything specific that he wanted to do while in Paris. Without hesitation Philippe said, "Yeah, I'd like to go back to that udon noodle place". Since Kunitoraya is the little hole in the wall restaurant that I automatically head towards whenever I'm near the Palais Garnier, I immediately agreed because there's nothing better than a steaming bowl of udon noodles on a cold Parisian day.

My favorite, Kamaten-Udon comes with udon noodles, broth, tempura and a quail's egg for 16€. After removing the udon noodles from the hot water, you dip them in the broth to which you've already added the condiments. You can drink the broth when you're finished.

Kunitoraya was also one of the first places that I took my Japanese friend, Itsuko, when she came for a visit in November. After inspecting the kitchen, which is rather easy since it's right behind the counter, to confirm that they were using homemade dashi (Japanese sea stock) and speaking with the staff to ensure that they're truly Japanese, Itsuko looked at the other customers and joked that she hadn't seen so many of her compatriots since she was last in Japan. While I don't remember what Itsuko ordered, I know that I had C-13 (Kamaten-Udon). As always, I was pleased with the combination of tempura and noodles served with a savory broth, while Itsuko declared that her meal was authentically Japanese. Best of all, when she checked her facebook account and saw that a friend from Aki, Japan* had posted a comment telling her to go to Kunitoraya because they serve the best udon noodles in Paris, Istuko could respond that her American friend (me!) had already taken her there.

As Itsuko and I had bonded during trips to the Japanese grocery store in Lausanne, I mentioned that I was disappointed that the one in Paris had recently reduced their stock. According to Itsuko, the same thing has happened in Switzerland because all of the Japanese products imported into European countries have to be scanned for radiation making it very costly for the small shops.

*There are three Kunitoraya restaurants: one in Aki, Japan and two in Paris. The restaurant on St. Anne accepts orders continuously from 11:30 am until 10:00 pm, a big plus as many restaurants stop serving mid-afternoon. The picture shown below is slightly misleading because there is usually a line of people waiting outside for one of the coveted ~ 30 seats.

Kunitoraya
39 rue Sainte-Anne (the little hole in the wall where I always go)
75001 Paris

5 rue Villedo (their more upmarket restaurant)
75001 Paris

A riddle for the day. What casts a long shadow over Paris?

2011-12-29T11:29:00.003+01:00

Is it a pointy mountain, a stealth plane or an odd-shaped giant with a minuscule head?

Here are a few more clues.

The answer to today's ridde is also where we'll be dining tomorrow. Can you tell that I'm more than just a little bit excited about our upcoming lunch at Le Jules Verne, the restaurant on the second level of the Eiffel Tower?

In the meantime, we're enjoying our visit with Stephane's family in Geneva. But I better stop blogging and get going because I still have to make a quick trip to the grocery store to pick up some essentials -- cheese for fondue and raclette, Läckerli cookies and SWISS chocolate -- before driving back to Paris later this afternoon.

Chateau Vaux-le-Vicomte. C'est magnifique in December!

2011-12-28T11:27:00.011+01:00

Even though we used to take Sara and Philippe to a fairly impressive Christmastime "Enchanted Forest" at one of the local department stores when they were small, they were a wee bit envious of the children dressed as princes and princesses at the Castle of Vaux-le-Vicomte last Monday. Proudly wearing the period costumes that may be rented on weekends, bank holidays and school vacations for 4€, the little royals gasped in delight at the towering Christmas trees adorned with thousands of twinkling lights and at each room that was more magnificently decorated than the last. The effect was pure magic.

Intrigued by Nicholas Fouquet, the man who built the castle that inspired King Louis XIV to build Versailles and wishing that I would have bought a copy of The Man Who Outshone the Sun King: Ambition, Triumph and Treachery in the Reign of Louis XIV from the gift store during our first visit to Vaux-le-Vicomte in November, I'm currently engrossed in the fascinating tale of his life:

From a glittering zenith as King Louis XIV's finance minister, builder of the breathtaking chateau Vaux-le-Vicomte, collector of books, patron of the arts and lover of beautiful women. Fouquet had fallen like Icarus. Charged with embezzlement and treachery, he was convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment. Charles Drazin's riveting account brings to life the rich, hazardous and Machiavellian world in which Fouquet lived. His charm, cunning and charisma enchanted and beguiled those around him, but in them lay the seeds of his destruction.

Alternatively, if you'd prefer to watch a dramatized miniseries on the life of Fouquet in French, Stéphane, Sara and I really enjoyed Le roi, l'écureuil et la couleuvre.

Please click on any of the photos that you would like to enlarge and enjoy a December visit to Vaux-le-Vicomte. For additional information about the castle, please refer to this earlier post.

As the sky was overcast when Stephane and I visited Vaux le Vicomte last month, we felt fortunate that Monday was an exceptionally beautiful December day.

View of Chateau Vaux-le-Vicomte from the Great Water Mirror, which measures 4,000 m2 (13,123 sq ft). On a clear day, the entire chateau is reflected in the Great Water Mirror even though it's 400 meters (437 yards) away. It's a demonstration of the rules of incidence and reflexion.

Insider's tip: Visit the historic vault and domed ceiling in Société Générale

2011-12-26T11:48:00.004+01:00

The vault at the Société Générale on blvd Haussmann is listed as an historic monument and is open to the public.

One of the first things that you do after moving to a new country is open a bank account, so that's what Stephane and I did in March. Accompanied by our relocation agent, we passed through the secure doors of Société Générale to meet with our account manager, Mme X. My focus drifted in and out as she explained some fairly standard details, but she had Stephane and my full attention when she mentioned the impressive negative balance that we're allowed to have at the end of every month. To two financially conservative people newly arrived from Switzerland, it was incredible. When Stephane and I glanced at each other rather uncomfortably, I could tell that he didn't like Mme X's implication that we couldn't manage our expenditures. To put it into every day terms, it was like telling my Swiss husband that he doesn't know how to ski. Absurd and insulting - talk about culture shock!

Nevertheless, we let Mme X continue until she said that I wouldn't see an itemized breakdown of the charges on Stephane's bankcard and vice-versa. What? - Why not? Shooting a look at our relocation agent, Mme X explained with French finesse that there may be charges on Stephane's card that he wouldn't want me to see and that I would probably make purchases that I would prefer to keep secret. When we jokingly commented that the French system differs significantly from the Swiss, I could see that both women were in agreement that Stephane and I were naive and didn't appreciate the complexities of marital finances in Paris.

1912, Paris. Cross-section showing the ceiling and vault from the historical archives of Société Générale.

It's ten month later and thanks to the French banking system, Stephane still doesn't have a clue how much money I spend on hot chocolate or scarves. Like me, he only sees a cumulative figure at the end of the month and doesn't know the details. If I ever feel the need to check, I could ask for his code and go online. But we've adopted the French approach. So, he was a bit worried when I told him that I wanted to visit the main office of our bank shortly before Christmas. Wondering what surprises I had in store, I showed him the glass domed ceiling that surpasses the one in Galerie Lafayette before leading him to the vault. Not knowing that it is listed as a national monument and open to the public, he asked if I had acquired secret stash of jewels.

If you're near Galeries Lafayette and want to see the hidden world of French finance, take a few minutes to admire the dome from the main floor and to marvel at the 15.7 inch (40 cm) vault door in the basement.

Société Générale
29, boulevard Hausmann
75009 Paris
Monday to Friday from 9:00 am -5:30 pm

Photos of the dome aren't allowed, so this is a picture of a picture.

Sunday's pictures and a song - Merry Christmas! Photos by Lisa Woodruff of Huntington Beach, CA

2011-12-25T12:37:00.000+01:00

Merry Christmas!

Many thanks to Lisa Woodruff of Huntington Beach, California for sending this photo of the classic "Woody" car that she spotted while driving down the Pacific Coast Highway on her way to work in Seal Beach. With a vanity license plate that reads "53 BUICK", a surfboard on the roof and a Christmas wreath on the back, this is the ultimate "Merry Christmas" from Southern California.

The magnificent colors of the sun setting over the Pacific Ocean and Catalina Island provide a beautiful backdrop for the Christmas decorations and surfers in the photo that Lisa took from the pier in Seal Beach a couple of years ago. Thanks for showing us what Southern California looks like in December, Lisa. I'll think of you enjoying the sunshine as I brave the cold wind and rain in Paris.

If you have some pictures that you would like to share, please send an email to mkoutandabout@gmail.com.

Silent Night on the metro - Merry Christmas Eve, everyone!

2011-12-24T11:06:00.000+01:00

After being greeted by the unwelcome cacophony of ear-splitting music and the chants of striking airport security staff at Charles de Gaulle airport yesterday morning, we found some moments of tranquility where we least expected it - the Franklin D. Roosevelt metro station late last night. While scurrying from line 1 to line 9, the sounds of "Silent Night" wafting through the tunnels reminded us to slow down, if only for a moment, and appreciate our time together. The following instrumental version is a close facsimile of what we heard, minus the piano!

In between picking up our son at the airport (our family of four is now complete!) and riding the metro home last night, we had another wonderful evening listening to the opera singers and dining at Bel Canto. Since I've mentioned how many problems I have with the French language, it seems only fair to mention that their usage of English isn't always correct either. Sara found this gem on the menu:

Pan-seared cod filet with mush potatoes and virgin sauce.

Virgin sauce, anyone? It's delicious on mush potatoes!

After a quick glance at this sign, Philippe wondered why they had recycled the one from last year:

The French version literally says, "The artists thank you and wish you a Merry Christmas and happy end of the the year 2011", which seems to be why they used 2011 rather than 2012 in their translated English version.

Any idea why Francophones celebrate the end of the year (2011), while Anglophones celebrate the beginning of the new year (2012)?