Sunday, July 31, 2016

Last Day in Paris : Deep Thoughts and a Soufflé {No. 20}

Push had come to shove with the wifi situation at our hotel.  My data overages were mounting ($$$) and Dean needed to update some charts online for work so we decided a “working” breakfast was in order.  We decided that a place like The Ritz probably never had wifi issues and we could return there to have a little fancy breakfast and get some laptop time.  This was our last day in Paris and a long, special le petit dejeuner was just the way to start it.  

After that we headed back to the hotel to drop our laptops and turned right around to walk and do a little sightseeing.  It was a beautiful sunny day!  Some folks at the Tour thing had mentioned how much they had enjoyed seeing Napoleon’s Tomb at Hôtel des Invalides and since neither of us had seen it before we thought we’d give it a go.  Truly impressive!  Did the audio tour and walked all around the property and exhibits.  We both really enjoyed this!  After the tour, Dean wanted to stay on and tour the Army Museum there and I wanted to bike over to my old stomping grounds in le Marais to revisit some familiar sights from the 2013 trip.  

We met back at the hotel to get spiffed up for our fancy dinner at Apicius and had a wonderful experience!  It really was lovely and we tried new things we would never have otherwise, even if it was a touch more formal and outside our normal dining comfort zone.

Cannot believe that our time in Paris had come to a close!  This time around, Paris was different for me—not bad, but different.  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little more on edge than I normally am when traveling, because of all the recent uptick in terrorist violence, specifically centered on France.  In fact, our last day in Paris the news broke of the tragic Islamic terrorist murder of the Catholic priest in Rouen and it just pained us—again—for France, for the world and the depravity of man, looking on this time in history as a whole.  It’s difficult to fully feel the joy and beauty that Paris had to offer, having to view it through the reality of that veil.  As for feeling safe while we were in Paris, we absolutely did.  We did notice an increase in security in many places around the city and we never felt uneasy walking around.  

We made exceptional memories here and nothing can ever take those away from us!  Having said that, when I left Paris three years ago, I felt like I belonged.  I stayed long enough that I knew my way around, my language had gotten better with every day, I’d made connections and been enraptured by all the beauty and newness of Paris.  This time I felt more like a foreigner and a visitor—not like it was my own anymore.  It was still beautiful, still delicious, still Paris.  There was no change in the glory of the croissants au beurre, absolutely none.  It was more that the steady magic and novelty I felt on my first trip never fully took hold.  

I spoke earlier in the blog of craving solitude which revitalizes me in so many ways—and maybe the lack of that and the inner edge I felt about the recent violence were, in the end, semi-barriers to feeling truly free and summoning my inner French woman!  So many times an experience cannot fully measure up to a set of expectations (even though I was deliberate in trying to temper my own, going in) and there’s nothing you can really do about it.  

And I can’t ignore that the 2013 trip was truly special and won’t ever be repeated—the women who joined me there and the victorious exhilaration we all felt about immersing in Paris together as wives/mothers/women who rarely get to do that—we all bonded with each other and the city.  But I’ll take a semi-barrier-ish visit to Paris over no visit to Paris.  And it only means I’ll just need to plan a return trip!!

Fancy Nancy!  Y’all got some breakfast??  And a good wifi signal?  

All the little dishes, jars, teapots, silverware = all the JOY.

Just your average glorious Paris door that we passed on our walk to Hôtel des Invalides.


Inside the Hôtel des Invalides, which was originally built in 1676 by order of Louis XIV as a hospital and retirement home for war veterans.  It also houses the Artillery Museum and Historical Museum of the Armies and the Veterans’ Chapel/Dome Chapel (the steeple is barely visible in this photo).  Napoleon’s body was moved to the Dome Chapel in 1840.  

The outside of the courtyard is being cleaned and the difference is amazing!

Napoleon’s tomb, recessed under the main floor of the Dome Chapel.  See the little humans above and below for scale.  This thing was massive.

Twelve angel statues surround Napoloen’s tomb.

First stop on my afternoon bike ride:  the door of my old apartment from the 2013 trip!  Special memories there!!  No. 2 Rue Pecquay in le Marais.  I loved riding my bike down the Rue des Archives, Rue Rambuteau and Rue de Francs Bourgeois down to Place des Vosges.

From there I pedaled my little bike wheels over to Méert, home of the chewy little wafer sandwiches with the sandy vanilla sugar.  Mmmmm. 

Ready for our fancy dinner and this here’s my Uber-ing man.  He is often found in just this stance as we await our driver.  

Thank you to Franklin at our hotel for snapping our photo before dinner!  This is outside our little hotel.

Apicius is housed in a gorgeous 19th c. villa in the middle of Paris.  The inside of the hotel is very modern and minimal and doesn’t exactly match the outside.  As we walked up for our 8 o’clock reservation and saw this little scene outside the restaurant, it made me wish we’d gotten there early enough to have a little cocktail on the terrace.  


The only thing I knew I wanted for sure at this place was the chocolate soufflé for dessert.  The nicest guy, our maître d’, Roma, very graciously explained the entire menu and translated everything into English for us.  But we couldn’t really decide and with the language barrier, we decided to just have the chef choose.  I think this was the second thing that came out and all I know about this is that the top is caviar and the bottom was potatoes.  Caviar rookies at our table and we both LOVED this dish.  Who knew??   



The service at Apicius was over-the-top flawless.  From the time we walked in the door, a string of no less than eight employees greeted us with “Bonsoir monsieur et madame.”  Our wine glasses barely sat empty for sixty seconds before someone was there to fill them again.  There were a lot of people with very specific jobs just waiting for the chance to do that job and serve.

This restaurant was way fancier than Dean and I ever really get for dinner, especially in Knoxville.  It was very special and I'll be honest--there was a hushed tones vibe, which never jives well with how loudly I laugh.  But THIS SOUFFLÉ.  The most decadent, perfectly-textured chocolate oblivion fireworks heaven spectacular dessert circus I have EVER known.  I don’t need a dinner that fancy.  But I do need that soufflé.  I’m getting sad now.  Let’s change the subject.

These fancy dinner places always do this, don’t they?  Just when you’ve tried to save room for dessert and you barely do but then can’t even finish your dessert, they bring you out little edible goodbye bites.  How was I supposed to make room for a tiny baby tarte au citron with the most evenly browned meringue dollop?  It was difficult but let’s be honest—I’ve spent years training for this very moment.  I could do this.  I would not let my lemon and meringue-crazed soul regret not taking the bull by the horns.  Down with the dollop!!

And back to the Hotel Duc de Saint Simon—I just never got tired of looking at this little reception area.  Bonsoir, Paris and vive le France!!  Tomorrow we head to Belfast!   




Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Feeling Frenchie {No. 20}

After all the excitement of Le Tour yesterday, this needed to be a very chill day.  The main event for the day would be dinner at Frenchie--a restaurant I had hoped to visit on my trip three years ago but 'twas not to be.  It's a really small restaurant and not the easiest reservation to get even if you're only a party of two, let alone a party of eight (which we were at the time).  We ended up going across the street on that 2013 trip to the Frenchie Wine Bar as a group and all loved it.  Still, I kept the Frenchie experience tucked away for another day and today would be that day.

We slept in, had our breakfast at the hotel, I worked on the blog in my pajamas.  I purposely didn’t plan to do a whole lot on these last couple of days in Paris.  I saw most of the “must sees” when I was here three years ago and I didn’t want to be in such a hurry running around that I missed the Paris vibe.  The Paris vibe, as defined by moi, mainly consists of walking or biking around the city, stopping to notice beauty and…spending at least $75 on pastries. #zutalors  And because we are here for such a short time, I didn't want to feel rushed or that I was coordinating everything.  I wanted my shoulders lowered.  

We did not go to Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower or Sacre Coeur.  We did not go to Le Bon Marche or the Louvre.  We ate well and I stopped to take pictures and walked and biked and walked and biked and bought pastries and went to Le Jardin de Luxembourg.  By the time we got going it was late lunch-ish and all I could think about was having a Niçoise salad and a glass of white at Le Comptoir.  

After lunch Dean and I split so I could hit some (pastry) shops and Dean wanted to track down a French (French Football Federation) football jersey for Walker.  We saw one on a little boy in Le Comptoir and his mother told us where to get one.  Walker is going to flip.  Of course we've seen about a hundred things that Mamie would love on this trip as souvenirs but hardly anything for the boys so when we saw the jersey, we had to spring for it.

We met back at Le Jardin du Luxembourg.  I got there first and just sat with my feet up and my pain au chocolat for a good while.  It was so peaceful.  Dean got there and almost immediately it started to rain.  We waited it out underneath the thickly canopied trees and even that was peaceful.  As we started our walk out of the gardens, we stopped to watch some of the chess players.

Before dinner we stopped for a cocktail at the Hemingway Bar in The Ritz and happened to snag the last table in the small, cozy place.  It was closed along with the hotel for refurbishment when I was last in town which was disappointing--so I was happy to have a chance to go.  Best place imaginable to spend $30 on a cocktail.  We were served little snacks, we channeled the old man himself, the bartender wore a white coat and black tie, the bar maids were so kind, the chairs were comfy, the cocktail napkins cloth, the glasses engraved and the drinks were perfect.  Loved it.

We hopped on our Velib bikes and set out for our 9:30 reservation at Frenchie.  We walked in and gave the hostess our best “bonsoir” and she gave us two seats at the chef’s table—alongside the expediting island near the kitchen.  Dean and I both looked at each other like, “This’ll be good.”  It’s been a while since we’ve been given the privilege of seats at a chef’s table—and it’s an experience that really draws us into the whole art and mission behind a meal.  We got to talk to the chef, Austin Johnson, and several on his team, mainly Claire Dellinger who was queen of the cold dish expediting station directly in front of us.

The meal was not just our favorite meal we had in Paris—I would venture that when all is said and done and we’re flying back over the Atlantic, it will win out as our favorite from the trip.  It’s the kind of meal we were still talking about the next day.  Photos to follow….  


Continental breakfast on a tray?  We’ll take that on our terrace, s’il vous plait. 

We finally got motivated to get lunch around 2:00.  Silly of us to think there wouldn’t be a wait at Le Comptoir by then, but it wasn’t long and we were tearing bread and spreading butter.  The menu at Le Comptoir is a little intimidating because there is zero English on it.  You basically just guess or know what you want going in—or do some googling on your phone.  I knew I wanted the Niçoise but Dean got the tartare and loved it.  Included is a pic of the little girls at the table next to us who are obviously young women after my own heart.  

Pastry run at Gerard Mulot.  Which begs the question:  why are there so many gorgeous, fit and skinny men and women walking around Paris??  I have no answers, just bitter feelings.  But not for long because...flaky pastry.

Mr. Pain au Chocolat says, “bonjour!”

Jardin du Luxembourg and a bike ride and this taste au citron avec meringue.  My heart overflows!  I wonder what the French version is of "meringue is the essence of life?"




Old men playing chess while young men look on, hoping to glean some little bit of wisdom.

Moments surrounding our happy visit to The Hemingway Bar in The Ritz.  What an extravagantly gorgeous hotel.  Dean says we can stay here for our 50th anniversary.  I countered with 35th. 

On the bar and drink menu, it plainly says photos are not allowed in the bar.  I think we know by now what that means in Lesli-world.  This is a picture of Dean in mid-sentence, “Lesli, you’re gonna get us kicked out of here.” 

There’s a quote on the bar menu from Hemingway which says, “If I have any money?  I can’t think of any better way of spending money than on champagne.”  Hear, hear Ernie.

A surprise selfie kiss in the Place du Vendome?  Heck yeah!  C’est Paris!!

Bonsoir, Frenchie.  This was actually as we were closing it down.  But I’m placing it first in the series so you can get the vibe of the restaurant.  It’s small and intimate.  Very cozy.  There’s Claire behind the bar where we sat just over on the right side. 


By this point, we were mesmerized.  They’re using tweezers to assemble the food.  They’re being careful and precise and they’re giving pause to the notion that first, as patrons, we will eat with our eyes.  I watched them and thought, “I would be so good at this job.”  Somehow it's the only pic I got of Chef Austin Johnson.  He was protective of his food and exacting.  He exhibited a pride in his creations that was endearing.  He seemed genuinely interested in how we experienced his food.  Talking with him made all the dishes very personal.  Take heed and put this man on your watch list.  He can cook/imagine/execute.  Can't wait to see where the road leads for him. 

I would love to be able to pop one of these gems in my mouth again.  Some kind of little crispy shell gently held zingy, lemony crabmeat, so bright and fresh.  The crispy shells were perched on beautiful little shells, which themselves sat in a bed of coarse grey salt.  The bite made my mouth leap to the sea! 

And here is Claire, putting together some of the foie gras dishes.  Claire was so neat, so capable and particular about every tiny detail.  We adored talking with her.  Chef Johnson, if you're out there, hold onto Claire.   

When Chef Johnson told us it was foie gras, I think I gave a vague, “Ohhh.”  He asked if I liked foie gras and I confessed I’d never had it before.  He quickly replied, “One of these is for you.” I’d never had strong feelings for or against foie gras—just never knew what to expect so I avoided it on a menu.  But this?  This was beautiful.  And paired with different versions of peaches.  Chef Johnson was so confident that it made me confident.  And I can report that I savored every bite spread on a pinch of the rustic brown bread at our table.  I’m fairly sure most foie gras is not like Frenchie foie gras, so in that respect, I’m guessing I just got spoiled for all other versions.  Risk/reward. 


To quote the young people:  “I can’t even.”  This dish was so savory, so perfect and the sauce was velvet.  How how how do you make a sauce like that??  Sauce nirvana.  Did not want it to end and it was one of the things we reminisced over the following day.  So so good. 

One of two desserts we were served and while they were both good, this was my favorite.  A take on Strawberry Charlotte cake, it held tiniest lady finger batons, fresh strawberries, lemon, golden currants, ginger-infused cream cheese and strawberry sorbet.  All the textures and frozenness and bright, beautiful flavors just pulled all my senses to attention without leaving us feeling heavy.

Frenchie, you're our favorite.  You were worth the three-year wait.  Sincere thanks to Chef Johnson, Claire, Megan and the whole Frenchie team for a meal we'll long remember--very fondly.  In the case that I get to return to Paris before my 35th anniversary, I'll be back.




Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Oh la la, Le Tour de France! {No. 20}

Excitement was in the air as soon as we woke.  You know the type of day—the red letter day, the one that holds a special je ne sais quois….  Today was the day that the cyclists would ride through Paris and finish their weeks-long epic journey via Le Tour de France.  Every year in the Douglass living room, there is a lingering weariness that plagues my very soul with the incessant television coverage of Le Tour and Dean’s insatiable need to tune in.  For some reason, the main commentator guy feels the need to fill every second of airspace with his voice and all you ever see are the spandexed backsides of the same group of riders riding past miles and miles of roadside well-wishers through every little village and tall climb.  The view never changes.  This way, that way, this way, that way, round the corner, up the mountain, would you look at THAT?!, more spandex, more backsides, more weaving, pedal pedal pedal pedal, someone just wrecked, oh a flat tire—until my brain wants to EXPLODE.  Mute it, for the love.  Cannot take it.  I still cannot really understand what the draw is for Dean but I do accept that it is a real thing for him.  LOVES IT.  

So when we were talking about the planning of the trip and dates/timing, etc. we realized that we could potentially be in Paris for the finale of Le Tour.  Normally, this would’ve been exciting—like bucket list-level—for Dean and semi-exciting for me, but the ante was upped by a connection to the Tour through a close friend who works with Team Cannondale and would be able to get us passes to sit in the stands instead of in the crowds along the street.  Nice friend to have, eh?

The day before we got to Paris we received an email from the Team Cannondale hospitality coordinator who was liaising with us to deliver our passes.  Included in her email were the details about picking up our passes and also the schedule of “events” for the day.  Our eyes got as big as saucers to read that our passes included not just some good seats in the stands on the Champs Elysees—we were also invited to a reception at the US Embassy with snacks and balcony views onto the Rue de Rivoli and the Place de Concorde for the pre-finale parade and then an evening cocktail reception with the riders after the race, also at the Embassy.  WHAT.  Dead.  We died.  Could NOT believe it.

It was a long, epic, memorable, thrilling day.  This was Dean’s day and it was a joy to witness his excitement.  And even though I wouldn’t consider myself a Tour fan girl, I could not deny the energy, drama and exhilaration of watching these world-class athletes compete in the sport’s premiere event on a world stage.  It’s not something neither of us will ever forget!


Yes, it’s the day of Le Tour.  But first:  breakfast.  And I could not get my hiney over to Cuisine de Bar quickly enough.  Three years ago when I was in Paris for my 40th, I think I ended up coming to Cuisine de Bar four different times.  Safe to say it made an impression.  Give. me. the. For’bon. Tartine.  NEED.  My mouth is watering now just writing about it.  Bayonne ham and the St Marcellin cheese on a slice of the best bread in Paris.  


Getting a closer look at the goodness.  Words cannot convey how perfect this is.

Walking around St. Germain des Prés and checking out the oyster bar by Le Comptoir de Relais.  Ehh, that right there is a hunk-load of butter.  There were a couple of these on the bar.  We are officially in the land of perfect butter and there’s something so right about seeing a gigantic mound of it the size of a cantaloupe just hanging out in a bar.  

Scenes around St. Germain….


We decided to make our way to the Musee d’Orsay because even though I went a few years ago, Dean had never been and it seemed time-wise like a good thing to do before we had to head over to pick up our Tour passes.  Little known fact:  Dean took four years of art in high school.  I liked seeing him enjoy seeing so many famous works of art up close and examining styles and techniques of painting.  This is a side of Dean that rarely gets exposed!!






Fascinated to see this cross-section of the the Royal Opera building.  I had the pleasure of attending a ballet here three years ago and it’s a night I will never forget.  Loved seeing all the layers above and below the stage for scenery/backdrops.  I’m sure there’s a better word for this but my main drama experience was Mrs. McAfee in “Bye, Bye Birdie” in my high school musical in 1991 and I don’t remember anything much about it except that I had to sing “Ed Sullivan” and I totally could NOT sing out loud in front of other people.  I imagine I sounded like the love child of Julia Child and Mr. Rogers.  

So after trucking it around the city in a harried attempt to pick up our passes when 90% of the roads leading to the hotel were closed due to mind-boggling amounts of Le Tour barricades, I was edging on mental.  I was  Chevy Chase in Vacation when he’s broken down in the desert with his shirt over his head talking to himself and proclaiming he was going to die while he walks around trying to find a gas station.  The sun was beating down and I might as well have been in the desert.  Every time we thought we might get to follow the route on the map, the road was blocked and we had to walk further.  I moaned out loud, “We’re never going to get there.”  My brain started to fold inward.  And then finally:  the Red Sea parted and we got to the hotel and shortly thereafter, the US Embassy.  


So as soon as we got our passes and got to the US Embassy, we were like, “Give us the food and the water.”


Gaze on the beauty of the US Embassy event facility with me.  This used to be a PRIVATE RESIDENCE.  Can you imagine?  Originally built in 1769, right on the Rue di Rivoli.  It has just undergone a nine-year, $5 million restoration effort (funded with private donations).  I think they re-gilded every gold leaf surface in the whole place.  It was incredible.    







The view from one of the balconies, looking out over the Place de la Concorde and the Rue de Rivoli.  

Just a few of the many cars? elaborate floats? that were part of the pre-Tour parade that comes through before the cyclists to much fanfare and applause from the public.  Hilarious!!  Most of them had radio music blaring, people dancing and throwing out little prizes.  We saw everything from a chicken to a car-shaped madeleine.  We watched all of this from the balcony.

After we had walked over to the special bleacher/seating section/grandstands along the Champs Ulysses.  Such a special opportunity!  Dean was soaking up every second of it!



The guy in the bright green is one of the Team Cannondale riders.  For the finale, once they enter Paris, they do 8 laps up and down the Champs Elysees around the Arc de Triomphe and back down to the Place de la Concorde.  This is after they’ve already ridden approximately 55+ miles just to get into Paris that day and over 2,000 miles overall.  Such an impressive feat just to finish!!


Can you feel the love tonight?  He’s having such a great day.






And it’s been sweet coming home to this cozy little place at night, the Hotel Duc de Saint Simon, even if their wifi signal has been out the entire time we’ve been here (annoyed face).  And we are officially exhausted!  Incredible day!!





 

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