We just learned this afternoon that Susie's Uncle Jack DeKorne passed away in his sleep last night.
I first met Jack many years ago in Michigan, probably at a Van Halsema family get together I suppose. When I met him first doesn't really matter, though, because Jack was one of those rare people who made you feel as if he's known you all his life. When you engaged him in conversation he gave you his full attention, indeed he made you feel as if you were someone special and that it was a privilege to be talking with you.
Even though he made his mark in the world of fine furniture, we both shared a great fondness for recording life's peculiar events on videotape. Every time our paths crossed, and they were too few, he always made me laugh with his stories, jokes and wry outlook on the foibles and follies of the human condition -- always with a good heart. His kindness of spirit, sincerity of hospitality, and warm humor always remind me of my own father, who will always remain the greatest man I've ever known.
Thank you so much for sharing yourself with us Jack.
Love,
Steve
Friday - Our last day in Paris
Another leisurely morning on rue General Renault, readying ourselves for the final day of our trip, taking in just being in Paris for one more day. Shortly before midday we head off to the Metro in the direction of rue Cherche Midi in the 6th and lunch at Cuisine de Bar, the restaurant arm of Poilane Boulangerie. Known for their tartine (a fancy way to say open-faced sandwich) that's exactly what we had. We both opt for the formule: salad, tartine of the day, wine and dessert.
 |
| Curried chicken tartine |
 |
| No, this is not a sub sandwich -- this was cut from a log of Paris-Brest dessert |
Cuisine de Bar. 8, rue Cherche-Midi (next door to Poilane Bakery), tel: 01 45 48 45 69, (M: Sevres-Babylon). No reservations.
We spent the better part of the afternoon scouting pastry shops. Always on the lookout for new ideas there's no better place to discover cool pastry ideas than Parisian patisserie, and so naturally Susie had compiled a list of places she wanted to visit. While we didn't get to them all we did manage to visit several. One in particular was in fact a spice shop recommended by David Lebovitz, "Epices Roellinger."
After many years as a successful chef-owner, Olivier Roellinger gave up his three Michelin stars and opened this wonderful spice shop in the heart of the Japanese section of Paris. His specialities are rare black peppers but he also carries a wide variety of usual and unusual spices. We picked up some fleur de sel and Susie was particularly attracted to his fleur de lune, a combination of sea salt and vanilla.
Epices Roellinger, 51 bis, rue Sainte-Anne, Paris 75002, 01 42 60 46 88, Metro: Pyramides. Closed Sunday and Monday.
One of the truly wonderful thing about strolling in Paris, casual strolling that is, without an agenda or itinerary, is you never know what you're going to come across, like Christmas trees made out of recycled plastic bottles near the Comedie Francaise. . .
. . . or a delicate paper sculpture hovering just this side of incredible outside a gallery,
. . . located inside the Gallerie Colbert:
We wound our way toward the Place de la Republique and caught up with our friend Marie B. We were scheduled to meet her at the Clown Bar, a place recommended by another friend Diane T. and quite close to near the Circus d'Hiver. But it turned out the place was closed so the three of us walked to a bar not far from Republique where we found a table a ordered an aperitif.
It had been a couple of years since we had seen Marie, and although sharing information n the internet is certainly convenient, it was good to finally see her in the flesh as it were, to talk about things that were and things yet to be.
So French, so Paris, and so is much of life, so Paris.
Once again we found ourselves saying au revoir to someone whose path we keep crossing on this planet. As Marie headed off for the Metro at Place de la Republique Susie and I headed in the opposite direction down Boulevard de Temple. A couple of blocks later we popped into a bookstore for no particular reason other than it was a bookstore, and browsed for a while.
Fifteen minutes later we walked back out into the cold drizzle and 5 minutes later walked into L'Olivier, a Greek fusion restaurant we discovered in 2008. The place is small, intimate might be the term used in the foodie magazines, but warm and comfortable. The menu was significantly upscale from when we were there last but the food was delicious and the wines, Greek of course, incredibly tasty. Few diners joined us that evening -- curiously the Tibetan restaurant next door was packing them in though -- and we had a chance to chat with the chef owner and his wife, the back and front of the house respectively. Some years ago they moved from the Greek island of Santorini to Paris so he could broaden his culinary experience. My leg of lamb with hummus and feta was absolutely wonderful and the couscous gateaux with ice cream equally worth the trip and the money.
Restaurant L'Olivier, 15 Boulevard de Temple, 01 42 77 12 51, Paris 75003, Metro: Filles du Calvaire. http://www.olivier-restau.com.
Back out into the dark of Paris, with umbrella up and ten minutes later we were walking up the stairs to our apartment on General Renault. The evening was spent packing up our things but we couldn't quite pack up our feelings. But then our trips have always leaned that way I suppose -- we have never been able to leave a Paris or France or Siena or Italy for that matter, really leave it I mean.
Wish you had been there, but then maybe you were. . .
Steve
We spent the better part of the afternoon scouting pastry shops. Always on the lookout for new ideas there's no better place to discover cool pastry ideas than Parisian patisserie, and so naturally Susie had compiled a list of places she wanted to visit. While we didn't get to them all we did manage to visit several. One in particular was in fact a spice shop recommended by David Lebovitz, "Epices Roellinger."
After many years as a successful chef-owner, Olivier Roellinger gave up his three Michelin stars and opened this wonderful spice shop in the heart of the Japanese section of Paris. His specialities are rare black peppers but he also carries a wide variety of usual and unusual spices. We picked up some fleur de sel and Susie was particularly attracted to his fleur de lune, a combination of sea salt and vanilla.
Epices Roellinger, 51 bis, rue Sainte-Anne, Paris 75002, 01 42 60 46 88, Metro: Pyramides. Closed Sunday and Monday.
One of the truly wonderful thing about strolling in Paris, casual strolling that is, without an agenda or itinerary, is you never know what you're going to come across, like Christmas trees made out of recycled plastic bottles near the Comedie Francaise. . .
. . . or a delicate paper sculpture hovering just this side of incredible outside a gallery,
. . . located inside the Gallerie Colbert:
We wound our way toward the Place de la Republique and caught up with our friend Marie B. We were scheduled to meet her at the Clown Bar, a place recommended by another friend Diane T. and quite close to near the Circus d'Hiver. But it turned out the place was closed so the three of us walked to a bar not far from Republique where we found a table a ordered an aperitif.
It had been a couple of years since we had seen Marie, and although sharing information n the internet is certainly convenient, it was good to finally see her in the flesh as it were, to talk about things that were and things yet to be.
So French, so Paris, and so is much of life, so Paris.
Once again we found ourselves saying au revoir to someone whose path we keep crossing on this planet. As Marie headed off for the Metro at Place de la Republique Susie and I headed in the opposite direction down Boulevard de Temple. A couple of blocks later we popped into a bookstore for no particular reason other than it was a bookstore, and browsed for a while.
Fifteen minutes later we walked back out into the cold drizzle and 5 minutes later walked into L'Olivier, a Greek fusion restaurant we discovered in 2008. The place is small, intimate might be the term used in the foodie magazines, but warm and comfortable. The menu was significantly upscale from when we were there last but the food was delicious and the wines, Greek of course, incredibly tasty. Few diners joined us that evening -- curiously the Tibetan restaurant next door was packing them in though -- and we had a chance to chat with the chef owner and his wife, the back and front of the house respectively. Some years ago they moved from the Greek island of Santorini to Paris so he could broaden his culinary experience. My leg of lamb with hummus and feta was absolutely wonderful and the couscous gateaux with ice cream equally worth the trip and the money.
Restaurant L'Olivier, 15 Boulevard de Temple, 01 42 77 12 51, Paris 75003, Metro: Filles du Calvaire. http://www.olivier-restau.com.
Back out into the dark of Paris, with umbrella up and ten minutes later we were walking up the stairs to our apartment on General Renault. The evening was spent packing up our things but we couldn't quite pack up our feelings. But then our trips have always leaned that way I suppose -- we have never been able to leave a Paris or France or Siena or Italy for that matter, really leave it I mean.
Wish you had been there, but then maybe you were. . .
Steve
Musee d'Orsay update
A recent trip to the Musee d'Orsay has revealed several important changes, which may or may not have an impact on your decision to go there anytime soon:
- The museum is presently undergoing major renovations and the entire upper level and half of the 2nd level are closed. Many of the paintings and some of the sculptures have been relocated to other parts of the museum.
- The room formerly dedicated to Manet is now predominately Cezanne (although "Olympia" is still in the same space).
- There is now a cafe on the 0 level, serving limited snacks and drinks.
- Photography is now prohibited in the museum. This appears to be strictly enforced.
- Multipass tickets are now available allowing access to the Orsay/Orangerie and Orsay/Gustave Moreau.
The cafe was nice to be sure but the chaos caused by the renovation and the frustration in trying to locate your favorite artist, not to mention the new anti-photography edict, make things a bit less comfortable. Or so we thought at any rate.
Thursday - Gray rain in Paris, Mora, Dehillerin and changes at the Orsay
Another gray day with drizzle to rain to drizzle to rain.
A leisurely morning for us both on rue General Renault. We had to wait for Darty, an appliance store chain in Paris, to deliver a new dryer, which they did promptly at a little before 9am. I willingly gave up the right to handle the transaction, thus allowing Susie to continue her French studies first hand.
The delivery went off without a hitch and shortly after the delivery guys left Susie bundled up, grabbed her umbrella and plunged into the vast grayness of Paris in early January. She was determined to make her routine pilgrimage to the Big Three icons of the culinary world: Mora for baking tools and equipment, Dehillerin for more equipment and Librarie Gourmand for the vast world of cookbooks in French.
As usual she proved successful in her search for just the right mold, the right book, the right baking thing, and before long returns with a bag of goodies (non-edible unfortunately) to be packed away for the long return to the US.
The two of us then head off into the "mizzle" (cross between mist and drizzle) to the Metro and to the Musee d'Orsay, a favorite stop for us; this trip is no exception.
After standing in line for 20 minutes ro so, carefully watching the rhino balancing herself on a nearby rock, we were let inside. Through security, we bought our tickets (discounted entry fee since we had visited the Moreau museum), checked our coats and scooted off to the wilds of impressionist art. Or so we thought. . . We were greeted by some rather unsettling changes (a couple of them good, mind you):
After leaving the d'Orsay we walked down to the Solferino Metro stop and took the no. 12 to the no. 10 to the no. 5 at Gare Austerlitz, getting off (as usual) at Richard Lenoir.
A quick 5-minute walk in light drizzle to avenue Parmentier where we popped into at a Chinese traiteur for takeout, then crossed the street to our apartment, fiddled with the digicode, opened the next door (locked) and up four flights, then unlocked our door and back in our apartment, where we opened a bottle of Prosecco and portioned out the food.
Another day in Paris, another night of eating Parisian food.
Wish you had been there,
Steve
A leisurely morning for us both on rue General Renault. We had to wait for Darty, an appliance store chain in Paris, to deliver a new dryer, which they did promptly at a little before 9am. I willingly gave up the right to handle the transaction, thus allowing Susie to continue her French studies first hand.
The delivery went off without a hitch and shortly after the delivery guys left Susie bundled up, grabbed her umbrella and plunged into the vast grayness of Paris in early January. She was determined to make her routine pilgrimage to the Big Three icons of the culinary world: Mora for baking tools and equipment, Dehillerin for more equipment and Librarie Gourmand for the vast world of cookbooks in French.
As usual she proved successful in her search for just the right mold, the right book, the right baking thing, and before long returns with a bag of goodies (non-edible unfortunately) to be packed away for the long return to the US.
The two of us then head off into the "mizzle" (cross between mist and drizzle) to the Metro and to the Musee d'Orsay, a favorite stop for us; this trip is no exception.
- The museum is presently undergoing major renovations and the entire upper level and half of the 2nd level are closed. Many of the paintings and some of the sculptures have been relocated to other parts of the museum.
- The room formerly dedicated to Manet is now predominately Cezanne (although "Olympia" is still in the same space).
- There is now a cafe on the 0 level, serving limited snacks and drinks.
- Photography is now prohibited in the museum. This appears to be strictly enforced.
- Multipass tickets are now available allowing access to the Orsay/Orangerie and Orsay/Gustave Moreau.
After leaving the d'Orsay we walked down to the Solferino Metro stop and took the no. 12 to the no. 10 to the no. 5 at Gare Austerlitz, getting off (as usual) at Richard Lenoir.
A quick 5-minute walk in light drizzle to avenue Parmentier where we popped into at a Chinese traiteur for takeout, then crossed the street to our apartment, fiddled with the digicode, opened the next door (locked) and up four flights, then unlocked our door and back in our apartment, where we opened a bottle of Prosecco and portioned out the food.
Another day in Paris, another night of eating Parisian food.
Wish you had been there,
Steve
Wednesday - Departure but not goodbye, Brittany to Paris
Wednesday morning began as usual: gray and cold. After a leisurely breakfast, we packed up, paid the bill and climbed into the Ford Focus one last time. Less than a half hour later Richard pulled into the parking lot at the Vannes train station, parked the car and the four of us went inside to have one last cup of coffee together before our two companions headed south for Mouchan and we boarded the train for Paris.
We lingered over the morning chatting about travels yet to come for us all. But the time arrived, as we knew it would, when we said au revoir to Richard and Pauline. Watching them pull out into the Breton drizzle Susie and I both agreed that our time together had been far too short, that we had seen so little of Brittany -- but we both knew and know that we were lucky to have any time there in the first place.
The Paris TGV was on time and as full as the one that brought us to Brittany on Sunday. We settled into our seats and took up our stations of watching the foggy French countryside slip by at high speed. Three hours later we awoke from our hypnotic stupor and began the climb out of the train and down the stairs of the train station into the bowels of Gare Montparnasse heading for the Metro and home on rue General Renault.
That evening we retraced our steps to the Metro and headed back in the direction of Montparnasse to our friend Val and her new husband Hubert's apartment. Susie had been lucky enough to have attended their civil wedding service last spring but I had not met Hubert and we weren't about to let the rain dampen our excitement over seeing the two "newlyweds" in their new home.
Having gotten turned around coming out of the Metro, we arrived a bit late but Hubert, like Val also an engineer, was running late leaving work so the three of us sipped wine, ate some incredible Camembert and caught up on the news. (We also got to see the wedding photos and learned that at many weddings in France the bride and groom sit down during much of the service, in chairs especially placed at the front of the church for that purpose.)
After Hubert came in out of the dark and rain the four of us sat down to a scrumptious dinner and chatted about life in Paris, marriage and the wonders of being together.
The night slipped away from us and eventually Susie and I slipped out into it -- and into the rain. We soon found our way to the Metro, and before long were back in the 11th walking across rue Parmentier and onto rue General Renault and home.
Wish you had been there -- but of course if you had, you'd know all this already.
Steve
That evening we retraced our steps to the Metro and headed back in the direction of Montparnasse to our friend Val and her new husband Hubert's apartment. Susie had been lucky enough to have attended their civil wedding service last spring but I had not met Hubert and we weren't about to let the rain dampen our excitement over seeing the two "newlyweds" in their new home.
Having gotten turned around coming out of the Metro, we arrived a bit late but Hubert, like Val also an engineer, was running late leaving work so the three of us sipped wine, ate some incredible Camembert and caught up on the news. (We also got to see the wedding photos and learned that at many weddings in France the bride and groom sit down during much of the service, in chairs especially placed at the front of the church for that purpose.)
After Hubert came in out of the dark and rain the four of us sat down to a scrumptious dinner and chatted about life in Paris, marriage and the wonders of being together.
The night slipped away from us and eventually Susie and I slipped out into it -- and into the rain. We soon found our way to the Metro, and before long were back in the 11th walking across rue Parmentier and onto rue General Renault and home.
Wish you had been there -- but of course if you had, you'd know all this already.
Steve
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