Tuesday in Paris - food, fashion and underwear

Another gray, overcast day but it's wonderful to be in Paris!

Yesterday was really quite incredible, although at times it seemed oddly stressful and certainly pedestrian (literally).

In search of slippers we headed over to the "Grand Magasins," specifically to Galeries Lafayette. Post- and pre-holiday shoppers were out in force stocking up on the post- and pre-holiday sales here and we were caught in this enormous human tide of French consumerism. The store seemed to be an endless sea of designer shoes and even more designer underwear, or as they like to say here, "lingerie." And believe me people were lingering to be sure. One can easily see why: frankly if I wasn't married I'd seriously consider dating any one of the 3,000 mannequins wearing next-to-nothing. Curiously, though one wonders who, in fact is buying all this "lingering clothing."

It was a treat to see the store windows though, and the central open atrium, some 6 floors high, was decorated as well. Tres cool. We also strolled through the food and wine sections as well and wondered how long we would last if we actually lived here before we simply exploded from too much incredible food. I think the risk would be worth it, don't you?

Oh, and if you must know we did indeed find slippers -- comfy isotoners. Located in the "underwear" or linger wear departments, naturally.

Notwithstanding the lousy weather, cold temps and an occasional chilly drizzle, we left the store and headed over to the Carnavalet Museum to try and meet up with Andrea and Barbara and their friends Matt and Susan who were also in Paris, on their way back to the US after working in the UK for a couple of years. We failed to connect, though, due ro malfunctioning mobile phones, and Susie and I set off to Carette, at Place des Vosges for a mid-afternoon hot chocolate and mille feuille for her and a Kir and espresso on the side for me. We lingered over our drinks chatting about one thing or another, or nothing much at all.

After paying the bill we walked home (it's really quite close to the Marais) to sort ourselves out before heading back out for dinner.

A little after 6pm Susie and I grabbed our coats and headed out the door, making our way to the no. 5 line at Richard Lenoir, connecting to the no. 10 at Gare Austerlitz, and getting off at Emile Zola. (The metro not his house -- he is dead after all, or so we're told.) We quickly found our street, the rue du Commerce, a delightful street with a dazzling array of lights overhead running some eight or ten blocks. We strolled for a while, taking in the feel of the place, assimilating the "cool," and, since we were still a bit early for dinner, found a warm corner cafe, where we stood at the bar and had an apertif (Kir for susie and Suze for me).

Our day concluded with dinner at the Cafe du Commerce. Originally built as a soup kitchen for the auto factory workers (presumably from the nearby Citroen plants now long gone and turned into green spaces), the cafe is centered around a three-storey atrium, with a retractable glass roof, and seating was right along the railings all the way around. Quite dramatic and most impressive.

We had come for the steak frites, as recommended by both Clotilde Dusoulier and David Lebovitz, and were not disappointed. But there was also plenty to offer besides beef (although this would probably not be a place for vegetarians, unless they planned to load up on frites). The service was almost worth the price of the meal as well. The beef and potatoes were washed down with a lively Gigondas. Delicious.

Le Cafe du Commerce. 51 rue du Commerce, Paris 75015. Website.

The end of another wonderful night in Paris was fast approaching and we had to leave. After paying the bill (something they appreciate here it would seem), we headed back to the no. 10, switching to the 5 and getting off at Richard Lenoir, we were soon back home.

Wish you were here,

Steve

Monday - Providence to Paris to Vietnam

Late Monday afternoon we caught up with Andrea and Barbara and Matt and Susan at A & B's apartment in the 13th, not far from Place d'Italie.

Rewind. Every day I get Google alerts for keyed to the names various Paris cemeteries and usually what that entails are ads for various hotels, etc. It so happened that one day, a few weeks before we left Providence, I saw an an ad for an unusually attractive apartment through Paris-Sharing.com. I don't know what possessed me but I checked the place out -- normally I never click through such ads -- and thought A & B might be interested in investigating this place a bit further.

Anyway, to make a long, somewhat tedious story as short as possible, A & B were excited about the place, so they contacted the website, closed the deal and, well, now there they are, tucked snugly into one of the coolest spaces I've ever seen.

Fast forward to this week.  The foursome arrived from the UK via Eurostar and got into Paris mid-afternoon. We called them at their new place within minutes of their arrival and planned to head over there late that same afternoon for a bit of wine and cheese before going out for the evening. (Dinner would entail a walk a little further south into the 13th, into what is euphemistically known as "Chinatown" but includes an incredible array of stores, shops and of course restaurants representing much of Southeast Asia as well.)

Susie and I walked to Richard Lenoir, took the no. 5 to Place d'Italie and then walked the few blocks down Auguste Blanqui to A & B's apartment. (Matt and Susan were staying at a Mercure Hotel, just a block or so away.) We settled into to some delicious creamy Robluchon cheese we had picked up at the market the day before, smeared over fresh baquette and washed down by a wonderful Muscadet left by the apartment's owner, and sat and chatted, catching up on everyone's travel news. (There was also some discussion about the weather situation in New England but no one seemed to know exactly what had occurred.)

After some not-so-serious conversation (weather issues notwithstanding), appetites being whetted, we all bundled up and headed out the door and up Auguste Blanqui in the direction of Place d'Italie.  (If you must know, Auguste is buried beneath an incredible sculpture of him dying in division 91 of Pere Lachaise.) We passed the lights of the Place, holidays lights still in evidence, particularly across the fronts of the commercial center and the Mairie for the 13th arr., directly opposite.

Our little band of intrepid gourmands turned down avenue Choisy and then down Avenue d'Ivry, stopping at no. 105. We were a bit early so we popped into a nearby bar for an aperitif and more conversation, until time to experience the delicacies of Vietnam.

Our dinner that evening was at  Lao-Lane Xang 2, a place Susie had eaten last spring when she had the temerity to come to Paris without me. Anyway, the place had been recommended by David Lebovitz and confirmed by Susie's experience. We had a wonderful meal, sharing 10 dishes among six of us; many of the plats were of smallish portions so this worked out perfectly. My dessert was incredible: a cocoanut flan infused (we think) with green tea, coconut ice cream toped with a sesame cookie and an espresso on the side.

Everything was washed down with a delicious Sancerre. The financial end of the meal came to roughly €25 per person.

Get there early or plan to queue for a while. 102 avenue d'Ivry, Paris 75013. Open 19:00-22:00, closed Monday. Metro: Tolbiac.

The line was out the door as the six of us left about 21:00. We all walked back to the Place d'Italie where we said buona notte and hopped on the no. 5 to Richard Lenoir and a short 5-minute walk home in the crisp, clean night air.

Rue General Renault and the Marche on Blvd Richard Lenoir

Right past the blue wall. . .

. . . is the door to no. 4

Not much to see in the photo since I was zoned out, but trust me this market is HUGE.

And the nearest chain market, Franprix, right across Avenue Parmentier. (OK, Parmentier introduced the potato to France and he's buried in Père-Lachaise, division 39).

Back to Paris

We're back in Paris at long last -- back in the apartment of rue General Renault at any rate. We arrived Sunday morning, and spent most of the day coping with cold, jet lag and finally crashed, sleeping 12 hours.

Saturday morning we finished packing up, loaded the car and headed north to Douglas, MA, to meet up with Susan's brother Dick who drove us to Logan Airport. Our Air France flight was delayed 45 minutes leaving Paris so we had plenty of time to relax in the comfort of Terminal E, where Wi-Fi is now free, by the way.

The flight proved a bit bumpy at times but generally uneventful -- always a good thing when crossing the Atlantic by air, or probably sea for that matter. Still, one can't help but think how much easier and quicker it is to get from one continent to the other today -- no little ships bobbing in the water at quayside, spending 2 weeks at sea retching along with farm animals. No, we just sit in small chairs (and getting smaller all the time it seems) 5 miles up in the sky sliding across the earth's atmosphere.

Although nearly 7am it was still dark when we landed in Paris. After breezing through passport control we had to wait more than a half hour for our bags; in fact ours were nearly the last to come off. It was then another wait of nearly an hour for our shuttle before we were cruising south into the city center, and soon dropped off at our apartment.

We had a bit of a hiccup in getting the keys but since Drea had not one but two back-up sets of keys in the city we were soon inside and unpacked.

 (I left Susie inside the building's vestibule riding herd on our bags while I headed to the Metro line 5 and north to the 19th arrondissement to find the second set of keys. Although I still had one Metro ticket from Susie's spring trip I planned to buy a carnet, a pack of 10 that we could use before topping off our Navigo electronic pass. I walked up to a kiosk to buy a pack of 10 tickets, something I had done many times before, and yet stood dumbfounded. Whether it was jet lag or something more profound, I drew a complete blank on how to do this simple task. An older gentleman took pity on my stuporous behavior and walked me through the steps necessary to buy the tickets.

As I was sitting on the train, a line we took many times in the past, somewhat zoned out from travel and a lack of good food, I couldn't help but notice an odd sensation come over me: just hours before I was sitting in Boston in a room full of strangers all equally eager to get to destinations all over the world, and now here I was back where I long to be, on the Metro no less, as if I had never left.)

After settling in and turning on the heat we headed back out and over to the huge outdoor market on Richard Lenoir, near the Bastille. The idea was to pick up a few things for the week and to just absorb the incredible wonders of Paris' largest outdoor food market. So we bought some cheese, bread, fruit, and finding ourselves at La Bastille we walked up one of our favorite streets, rue de la Roquette to Place Leon Blum. Across from the Place we picked up a small freshly roasted chicken (with matching roasted potatoes) at our semi-regular boucherie and then walked across the street to Nicolas' for a bottle of sparkling Alsatian wine ("Cremant d'Alsace"). A few minutes later we were back home. We dozed on the sofas under multiple series of covers before finally rousing our bodies to have a bite to eat, a glassy of bubbly and just relaxed before eventually heading off to bed and the warmth proved by two down comforters.

It is now Monday morning and the sun is desperately trying to break through the overcast and make its point. The plan right now is to pick up a few more things at the nearby Franprix grocery store, have some soup with cheese and baguette, top off our Navigo at the Bastille and head over to the BHV department store for slippers and a space heater. Eventually we hope to meet up with Andrea and Barbara this afternoon and all of us enjoy Vietnamese food at "Lao Lane Xang" in the 13th later this evening.

Food is fast becoming the determining factor in this trip and I sense it will only grow more so in the days to come.

We're in Paris.

Wish you were here,

Steve

Paris Travel Plans - the lodging part

view from our apartment but without the leaves

OK, we have a place to stay in Paris. No surprise here, though: it's the sweet 4th floor apartment on rue General Renault in the 11th, a place we've come to know well and a place to call home even for a few days. We love the location; just a few blocks down from Pere Lachaise and a few blocks from Place Leon Blum up Avenue Parmentier. 

(In case you need to know, Parmentier is the guy who not only brought the potato to France but persuaded everyone to eat it. Really. In those days, the 18th century days when texting was still new and largely untried, there were many folks who believed the potato was unhealthy and some were even convinced it caused leprosy. Go figure. we now know  that touch screens cause leprosy. Oh, and by the way, he's buried in Pere Lachaise, division 39.)

So we arrive in the City of Light early Sunday morning and after we pass through the bureaucratic entanglements we'll grab the RER into the city, and either change to the Metro or the bus at Gare du Nord, and get off at or near St. Ambroise. A short two-block walk, a la schlepping, unlock the door (digicode of course), up four flights of stairs and voila! 

We're home.