Day 8: A Full French House at Maison 1400, aka: The Knoxville Invasion

Presto change-o, one group departs, another arrives!  It was time for Group 2 to descend on Paris and settle into things!  Group 1 left for the airport and Group 2 arrived at the apartment about an hour later.  They were only slightly coherent and pitifully sleep-deprived but so thankful to finally be here!  We all decided to celebrate by taking a nap...which was interrupted in the worst way by metal scaffolding being erected on the street outside the apartment.  Quel dommage!

Before I go further, allow me to make some introductions.  Group 2 consists of the following friends:  Jennifer Hinton, Claire DeLozier, Emily Miller, Mary Beth Maddox, Jenny Adams, Grace Bishop, and Shannon Cofield--all currently from Knoxville except Shannon (who is in Atlanta), but we count her as a Knoxvillian anyway since she used to live there.  Mary Beth, Shannon and Jennifer had arrived the previous day (October 2nd) and stayed in a hotel with plans to move into Maison 1400 on October 3rd, which is how they got roped into dinner the previous night at Verjus (see the Day 7 post).  The other four friends arrived in Paris on October 3rd and had plans to stay in Paris a couple of days after they left Maison 1400 on the back end.  But for the next four days, seven friends plus Lesli = EIGHT.  Prep the sofa beds, it's a full house at Maison 1400!    

It became readily apparent a nap would not be happening.  Claire, Jenny and I gave up the fight against the scaffolding insanity and decided to head out for a bite to eat.  They were open to suggestions and thankfully, I had a few of those under my beret.  It had been a whole week since I'd had the For'bon Tartine at Poilane so obviously, it was time for a revisit.  Just to refresh your memory: Bayonne ham, whole ripe Saint Marcellin cheese, olive oil, marjoram and Poilâne bread.

I had a dear friend and experienced French linguist and traveler, Karen Costello, tell me before we left:  "You may have ten different places you want to go for breakfast, but I would encourage you to keep going back to one you really enjoy.  They appreciate it when you return and then you establish a relationship." Wonderful advice.  The lady who took our order today at Cuisine de Bar was not there the first time when I went with Dean, but I definitely noticed her during this second visit.  She was so full of life and fast-talking that I smiled every time she came to our table.  I asked her name:  Isabelle.  Isabelle was busier than a honeybee in a mess of Provence lavender.  She was the only server in this cafe with seating for probably 30.  She was constantly moving and working--every single second.  And she had JOY.  

This brings me to something Dean and I learned from Michael, our invaluable landlord at Maison 1400.  Restaurant staff positions at any level are generally not considered dead-end or temporary jobs to bring in a paycheck while in a holding pattern, waiting for something better to work out (as they are sometimes viewed in the US).  Someone in a restaurant staff position in Paris has chosen it specifically for the industry and they take it seriously.  For a cafe like Cuisine de Bar/Poilane, Isabelle is the server, busser, and cashier for every table in the cafe.  There is only one other staff person in the cafe and he is the cook.  The cook was there the last time I ate at Cuisine de Bar and as I recall he didn't smile very much.  But today, I went out of my way to go over and make eye contact and tell him, "Merci beaucoup!" and "C'est bon!" and "Au revoir!" as we left.  And guess what:  I got a smile.  Voila!!  Repeat customer.  By the way, stay tuned for one more forthcoming blog post regarding Isabelle.  I'll give you a hint:  it involved much bravery on my part and occurred my last full day in Paris....

We departed Cuisine de Bar and headed to Pain de Sucre.  Grace and Emily also met us there.

Salted caramel macarons elicited either groans of deep culinary satisfaction or blank stares of revelation followed by a complete lack of words.  This was my second trip to Pain de Sucre and certainly not my last.  The sweet man who works in there is so patient and helps me pronounce very hard words like, "millefeuille."  I still don't know how but I try every time.  He is helping me.  I must ask his name!

Here is Emily, modeling with a Pain de Sucre croissant.  Like the professional that she is.  

From here, the group split and I headed back to the apartment to try out some ear plugs and attempt a short nap before dinner.  And I just needed to rest.  One thing I am having a hard time doing on this trip is balancing--rest, time alone, connecting with friends, being a leader and being a follower.  Still haven't figured it out!  It would probably help for me to get in bed earlier than 1:30am every night/morning.  This is a pattern that requires reversal in short order.  It--is--making--me--s l e e p y and also possibly a smidgen cranky.  

Dinner tonight was the eight of us!  We queued up (actually, props to Claire and Jenny for getting there early to queue up; otherwise, our rather large group probably could not have been seated together) at the very quaint and trés délicieux Frenchie Wine Bar, which is near the Montorgueil district in the 2nd arrondissement.  We sat at a big table and shared wine, champagne and an assortment of small plates that came out in a nicely-timed parade of lovely, creative dishes.

Bon soir, cute little French man who served us.  Flirt alert.  

 We passed around plates and bowls and sipped and nibbled and ooh-ed and ahh-ed over our bites.  I am fairly sure that cartoon explosion captions like "ZOW!" and "ZOINK!" appeared over my head as I demolished the chocolate pot de creme with the thin blanket of passionfruit-infused warm butter sauce over the top of it.

For all you know, this could be Jell-O pudding in cute jars.  It is most assuredly not.

 Where everyone had been politely sharing everything else in equal portions, once the pots de creme came into play, I immediately morphed into the world's most selfish 4 year-old and took hold of the little pot with my greedy hands and heart.  Ah well, these are the perks of being the birthday girl, no??

A little blurry, but all the women of Group 2 had arrived on the streets of Paris to join with me in savoring every little bit (and bite) to the nth degree.  I am so so grateful and humbled that they would come all this way and am looking so forward to our time together!