Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Not to be Confused with Breadsticks...


The baguette... 

We have all seen the vintage photos of the French boy, 
cycling down the cobbled street, 
baguette nestled in the basket, 
along with other delectable fruits, veggies and wine...  

People say that the French baguette 
cannot be replicated outside its Gallic borders, 
although many have tried.  Julia seems to have figured out 
the steaming process to produce the crispy exterior, 
yielding a soft chewy interior... 

Regardless, the French baguette is nothing like 
the tasteless baseball bats we call baguettes at home...  

This I learned pretty quickly...  

Man, are they tasty, just straight up, 
with some butter slathered on, alongside coffee... 

Heaven...  

We saw many Parisians, walking along, 
with a big ole wrapped baguette sandwich in hand... 

Tom had an incredible tuna salad sandwich 
that oozed dijon vinagrette, while I enjoyed an omelette... 

Let's just say I had a little teensy hangover 
and needed some serious protein
to shake that queasy feeling.....

Dang that fourth bottle of white!  

Eating is serious business over there 
and we were up to the challenge...  

The first night we ate, on a friend's suggestion, 
at Le Restaurant Au Sergent Raconteur, a rustic, out of the way place 
on the Left Bank... 

Run by the owner and one other guy, 
the fixed price menu started out 
with the most delicious pureed vegetable soup 
I have ever had... 

Next came pate' with, you guessed it, sliced baguettes... 

Soon, the owner plopped a huge basket 
of fresh vegetables on the table... 

Our "salad" was a help-yourself basket of tomatoes on the vine, 
whole endive, cucumbers, whole carrots and wedge lettuce... 

No dressing...  

We cut off hunks of veggies and enjoyed them "au naturel"...  

The next basket was brimming 
with all sorts of sausages, 
followed by our entrees, 
which were roasted chicken and beef bourguinon...

So marvelous... 

Five kinds of cheese arrived, 
followed by a tarte tatin and chocolate mousse...  


Everything was casual, family style and wonderful... 

Another night we found a charming, small restaurant 
near our hotel named Moustache... 

The butternut squash soup was piping hot, smooth and hinted of citrus...  

I enjoyed cod and Tom loved the sliced steak with wine sauce...  

We shared a dessert of a chocolate soup 
that was flavorful and complex...  

The service was attentive, but not pushy, 
and the restaurant was lively...

It seemed like every time we were seated next to Americans....

Maybe it's like the kid's table...

They want to keep us out of the way... 

We also noticed that chocolate is everywhere in Paris... 

There is a chocolate shop at every corner, 
so it came as no surprise that there was 
quite a lot of promotion for the 
 

It was a four day convention of all things chocolate... 

We almost didn't get to see it, 
since we forgot to print out the tickets ahead of time...  

Usually, when you have a receipt and a confirmation, 
the Will Call booth lets you enter...  


Oh non!  

When we presented the receipt to the ticket agent 
at the convention center, she pursed her lips 
and said that we had to take a train across Paris 
and have our tickets printed at their main office... 

What?!  

So we went to the Paris Travel Bureau, across the plaza, for help... 

"I am sorry, Madame, but our printer is broken:"... 

What?!  


So we had to dash to an internet cafe,
the size of a broom closet, to print our tickets...  

Very French....  

Inside the Salon du Chocolate 
we witnessed fashion in the form of chocolate... 


These were some wildly creative outfits and it was amazing the girls kept them on...  

You'd think body heat, alone, would be an issue...

There were live white doves living inside one of the chocolate bustles!  

See 'em in there??

After the show, we perused the booths in search of samples... 

The presentations were beautiful...  

Little mountains of cream filled joy...
  

Marshmallow sticks enrobed in different kinds of chocolates.... 


The Eiffel Tower in chocolate, 


The Arc de Triomphe in chocolate....  

Floral presentations in candy....


And chocolate soldiers ready to stir in hot milk...


It was really cool...

You gotta work pretty hard to get a bad meal in Paris 
and the wine flows like the Seine...

Next: What stuck in my brain...



Tuesday, October 25, 2011

"Paris is Always a Good Idea.." Audrey Hepburn


What makes a trip memorable?  

Is it the destination?  

The hotel? 


The food? 


Some crazy thing that happened?  


 How about all of the above?  

The lucky confluence of a trade show, 
enough air miles 
and benevolent neighbors to watch the kids 
allowed me the chance to see Paris for the first time... 

 And it was memorable... 

 First because of the destination... 

I mean, if you can't have a good time in Paris, 
you might as well stay put in Fargo and call it a day....  

Tom left me to my own devices for two days
while he pounded the trade floor...

I found the Musee d'Orsay 
for starters... 


Such beauty, such huge paintings, 
so many naked rubenesque beauties to admire...  

Seurat, Van Gogh, Degas, 
 Gaugin to see up close.... 
 
It was a dream...  


Navigating my way through the Metro, which was a little intimidating at first, 
I found the Notre Dame...


Of course it was a sight to see, inside and out, 
but the people watching was the real treat...  

 All sorts of people milled about...  

There was some band of youngsters from Denmark 
who were so cute... 

That little kid looks like Ralphie 
from "The Christmas Story", 
don't you think?  


They look so proud in their uniforms...  

Why is it that some people like to attract pigeons, 
otherwise known as flying rats?  

Parents were giving kids food to feed the hoards of birds....
blech.  

Then this toddler was feeding sparrows bread out of her hand....  


It had a bit of a Hitchcock feel to it.....  Sheesh!  


Of course shopping, window shopping, that is
was a must see and I walked for miles 
to look at local shops as well as the famous retailers 
along the Champs Elysees...


 Over there are H&M, Cartier, Louis Vuitton, you name it, 
along with throngs of tourists...  


There was even Paris' version of the Jesse White Tumblers 
performing on the street...  

It was just like Michigan Avenue, 
with more style and more smokers...   

The best were the little shops on the side street, 
like the boutique for ballerinas...  

Look at that wall of toe shoes!  

The tutus were so beautiful 
and Kate's size cost about 80 Euros (apprx $110)...  

So I looked, sighed and walked out...  

I walked past champagne stores, 
caviar stores, truffle shops,
the butcher, the pastry shop, 
the multitudes of florists 
and hundreds of chocolate shops... 

Apparently, the French are into chocolate...
  

More about that later...  

I mustered up the courage to make a few purchases;
gifts for those so kind to watch the kids...  

Knowing not enough French (nil) caused me 
to seize up in terror while waiting in line 
at the C&A and buy a dress for Kate... 

The cashier took pity on my panicked expression 
as I waited for my debit card to approve... 

Even though we called ahead to let the credit card company 
know of our travels, those few seconds 
while the computer decided my purchasing fate, 
I could feel the sweat on my temples...  

Apparently us Americans stand out... 

Of course those embarrassing Yanks 
who dress in white sneakers, 
ill fitting jeans positioned high 
and large cameras hanging from their necks 
are a dead giveaway... 

I tried to blend in, wearing black, a scarf and boots... 

I drew the line at the unfiltered smokes, 
but my fear and hesitation when asked to speak 
was the clear ringer...  

Around lunchtime, I stepped into a cafe 
for a bite to eat, already trembling
about having to order food from a French waiter...  


As I walked in, you would have thought 
I was Eddie Murphy in the cowboy bar from "48 Hours."  

I think I even heard the record player scratch...

I slunk into a corner table 
and ordered water and a ham and cheese crepe... 

The waitress was nice 
and helped me through the ordering ordeal...  


I quickly ate and slipped back into the masses...  

Of course the best sight to see was the Eiffel Tower....  

I purposely did not look for it until I was with Tom, 
the next evening after his trade show.  

We walked a side street, and then, BAM!  

There it was, sparkling like diamonds...  

Words cannot describe...  


Tomorrow...Chocolates and Baguettes...