Steak Tacos de ma cuisine

I'm getting into this cooking bag. I actually am slowly finding that eating the food that you labored over is really fulfilling, particularly when it tastes good. I decided to make steak tacos last night and ended up just making up the recipe myself. I marinated the steak (a combo of filet and skirt steak) in a mixture of garlic, lime, orange, fleur de sel and fresh pepper and ended up cooking it over red and green pepper and red and white onion. The tacos, accompanied by fresh tomato, more freshly-squeezed lime, and grated manchengo cheese, were yummmmy.

Klimt, Westbury, BIA, Organic, Ya know.

Full day in Paris. Woke up, planned on getting muffins that I (apparently, according to Liz) saw when I was at the Raspail Organic Market (a marche biologique), but it was to no avail. After not finding any muffins at the market, we decided to head over to Breakfast in America for some pancakes and french toast. After being told that they were out of challah, they offered me their "special" of croissant french toast. I said "hey, why not?" but they neglected to tell me that it was smothered in strawberry sauce (gross). Liz didn't fare much better with her pancakes, which tasted as though someone had made them out of dirt.

We left BIA and decided to go over to the Christmas market near the Pont Neuf that has merchants from the Languedoc-Roussillon region of France. It was pretty fun, reminiscent of all other Christmas markets (like those we saw in Strasbourg and Bruges)--red carpet, wooden stalls, etc. We bought what looked like an amazing thin cookie, but actually ended up tasting like a piece of bark (and subsequently ended up in the garbage after a bite).


While at a market, we caught a glimpse of the St. Eustache Church, which we ended up checking out. Huge church, but pretty ugly and bare on the inside.


The day would be redeemed by our visit to the "Vienna 1900: Klimt, Schiele, Kokoschka and Moser" exhibition at the Grande Palais. My mom had tried to get into the exhibition when she was here, but the wait (without a reservation) is endless and virtually impossible. I made a reservation about a month ago--they actually made me reserve the half hour that I would be coming (16h30, to be exact). The amount of Klimt works was incredible, particularly when seen alongside the works of all those he influenced.

We headed over to the Champs-Elysee after the exhibition and went to see the new Harry Potter movie. It's fun to see American movies in "v.o." (version originale, i.e. English if they're American movies), particularly when you see half the idiotic translations that they make (it makes you wonder who actually does these translations and how they managed to get to this position). I like these movies--I should probably read the books, but I'm lazy--what are you going to do.

Afterward, we were so hungry that we decided not to take the metro to a restaurant and ended up eating at a Westbury-style factory operation, some wannabe pizza restaurant that mixed elements of Bertucci's and California Pizza Kitchen. I seriously felt like I had come to Westbury (particularly because there were so many fat Americans--it's pretty sad that you come all the way to France and eat in Westbury), but it ended up not being half-bad.

Babbo, by way of my kitchen

The adventures into cooking continued tonight with a recipe care of Mario Batali and the Babbo cookbook--Fresh Papardelle with Wild Boar Ragu. Well, since I didn't really feel like slow cooking Wild Boar for two hours (though I do love it, believe me), I ended up changing this recipe around a bit to suit my purposes. I went to the Grande Epicerie (where else?) to get some ingredients--fresh papardelle (you thought I was going to make it myself? Thank god for the great fresh pasta selection at Grande Epicerie), fresh Toulouse sausage in lieu of wild boar, vegetables, some cheese, etc. The dish smelled great throughout and was very delicious--very much a success! I had to improvise with the pot lid with holes because we didn't have a cheese grater, but it ended up working perfectly...and there is nothing better than grated fresh aged parmigano reggiano on pasta. I clearly am not yet a plating master, and my pasta can hardly be called beautiful (tasty yes, beautiful no). Tomorrow, Liz and I are going to a cooking class where we will be making brochettes of tuna and shrimp with espelette pimente--bon appetit.

A Night at the Ballet

Last night, Liz and I went to the Palais Garnier (the famous Paris opera house with the beautiful Marc Chagall ceiling) to see La Petite Danseuse de Degas. As sophisticated as I like to think I am, I had had enough after the first act (wayyyyyy too classic, way too slow) and we ended up leaving. However, I can't get enough of that ceiling--it is so beautiful and intriguing, I think I could stare at it all day. Anyway, the opera house was particularly beautiful yesterday, filled to the brim on a nice winter night. We ended up leaving and walking around the area for a bit, checking out Place Vendome (which had been completely adorned with christmas trees and lights--gorgeous), rue de Rivoli (beautifully decorated as well) and Place de la Concorde with its gorgeously-lit ferris wheel (for the Christmas season). We somehow have been here four months...and are leaving in 10 days...but it is only appropriate that our trip end with Christmas and the end of the year.

L'As du Falafel and some visitors

Nothing like a little Jerusalem in Paris. Liz's mom and fiance were in Paris for a few days this past week, with one of the days spent waltzing around the Marais. We ended up going to the place that we had been putting off forever--L'As du Falafel. The falafel is considered some of the best in Europe? The special--fresh falafel, eggplant, hummus, tahini, lettuce and tomato. LOf course, I had thrown up the day before, so I ended up not having any falafel at all and just watching everyone else eat. But it looked good...

The Four-Hour Lunch...

December 15, 12:30PM-4:30PM (or should I say 12h30-16h30)--the marathon, never-ending, over-the-top, incredible lunch at L'Astrance. L'Astrance is run by Pascal Barbot (chef) and Christophe Rohat (maitre d'), the former sous-chef and maitre d' at Arpege, the Michelin 3-star kitchen of the legendary Alain Passard. Several years ago, Barbot and Rohat parted ways with Passard and opened their culinary laboratory on the edge of the 16th. Over time, Astrance has become both Paris' most difficult reservation (virtually impossible at dinner, extremely difficult at lunch--I made mine two months in advance) and its most daring and inventive kitchen (along with Pierre Gagnaire). After my final day of classes last Thursday, Astrance was a reward and a great way to end an incredible--and at times surreal--semester.

Skipping right over the a la carte and smaller menu offerings, I set my eyes right on the Menu Astrance Surprise with matching wines, the marathon meal comprised of the choices and dishes that Chef Barbot decides to cook on that particular day (often based on products that were especially good at the market that day).

The first amuse came out almost the second after I ordered--a parmesan crisp brioche with black truffles served with an olive oil and parmesan mousse. The punch that the mousse packed was astounding--the parmigiano reggiano was extremely pungent and incredibly delicious, and the olive oil provided the perfect texture and compliment. The brioche was sensational, the truffles nicely accenting the parmesan flavor. I should also mention that Astrance gets their bread delivered by Jean Poujauran, a legendary Paris baker that closed his shop and now delivers bread to several of the city's restaurants daily (delicious).


As this was a surprise menu, I do not know the names of many of the wines (the shitty sommelier who was quite an asshole in the way that only sommeliers can be didn't bother to tell me what they were when he poured and I don't remember half of the names that he told me only after I had asked), but I'll describe them a bit, though just suffice it to say that I will focus on the food. The first two courses were matched with a very nice, cider-like, sweet wine from Alsace (not quite a Gewurtztraminer, but similar). It had a relatively dark golden hue, reminiscent of a dark Sauternes or vin jaune from Jura.

The second course was one of my favorites from the meal--a single shot glass filled with three diverse flavors: a pumpkin puree, a clementine mousse, and a cardamom yogurt. This dish was amazing and Barbot really needs to be credited for such an unusual combination that actually works. It was thick and sorbet like, with no single ingredient overpowering the others. The wine-pairing with this course was especially noteworthy as well.


The third course was a nice yet underwhelming dish of white mushrooms layered with foie gras and a puree of lemon. The lemon gave the dish great flavor and much sweetness, yet without the lemon, the dish was definitely lacking. The wine for this dish was a Sauternes that was very tasty and very sweet (almost like drinking honey without the thickness).


The fourth course was a very tasty dish comprised of mussels and oysters served in a mussel sabayon with curry, curcuma, ginger, leeks and cashews. The first thing I noticed about this dish, outside of the myriad of ingredients and incredible flavors, were the plumpness and softness of the shellfish. These mussels, despite the fact that they looked very ordinary, were far and away the most tender and delicious mussels that I've ever eaten; they literally melted in your mouth, there was no need to chew. A crisp, dry white from Burgundy accompanied this delicious and asian-accented dish.


Outside of the sommelier, the service at Astrance was spectacular. To be entirely honest, as long as I'm not completely turned off (and even sometimes if I am), I don't really care about the service--I'm there for the food. Yet it never hurts to have nice service, and the waiters at Astrance were particularly great. As is the nature of the place, they were a little more relaxed and comical in their delivery (recitation of dish names, etc.), particularly when I asked them questions. It was nice to have such friendly waiters, and by the time the 12th, 13th, 14th, and 15th dishes came out, every time the waiter came over, we all just began to laugh.

The fifth course (we're 1/3 of the way through) was another of my favorites--pan-seared, rarely cooked scallops served in a curry and curcuma yogurt with lightly cooked spinach and a scallop tartare in a miso-like broth. Comparatively plain, the dish served as a very nice interlude in this meal and the flavors were nevertheless quite delicious. The scallops (it's the beginning of the season) were perfectly cooked and quite flavorful, as were their sauces/broths. The white with this course was lighter than that with the previous course and was far better.


The sixth course was sole served with bok choy, sea urchin tongue (this must be wrong, but i swear that is what they said in French, or at least I think it is--do sea urchins even have tongues?) and a sea urchin puree/sauce. This fish was remarkably fresh and tasty--impeccable quality and perfectly cooked--and the sea urchin (tongue?) gave the often plain sole a tremendous, sweet kick--the wine (i am sick of white wine by now) was nice as well.


The seventh course was red mullet with a sesame mousse, thyme, pumpkin and black radish accompanied by one of the better whites, one with far more body and bite. The wine was actually relatively strong and seemed just a bit short of a digestif. The wine pairing, however, was a bit odd with the fishy and not wonderfully tasty course (despite the vegetables which were cut extremely thin and tasty).


The eighth course was a delicious pasta course (a bit surprising)--a type of thin spaghetti, artichoke, white Alba truffles, mushrooms and a parmesan mousse, accompanied by an even stronger wine than the previous course (I think I caught the name on the bottle: Electrico Fino del Lagar). The course itself was delicious, particularly the combination of the truffles (duh) and the powerful parmesan mousse.


The ninth course was terrific--guinea fowl, chocolate pimente, eggplant miso, auvergne potato fondant. More importantly, I was finally served a red--and I have never tasted a red that was so dull, so body-less, so tasteless. Nevertheless, tossing the wine aside (which was a shame--a good wine with this would have been great), this is one of the best poultry dishes I've ever had. The chocolate, when mixed with the guinea fowl, was fantastic--a wonderful combination. The eggplant and potatoes were very tasty as well.


The tenth course was a rabbit compote served with a hornelle berry puree and a glass of a nice bordeaux (Chateau La Mission Haut Brion, finally something better). I have had rabbit prepared in almost the exact same way (very heavy sauce, far too overpowering) at Flora, and it didn't hold up much better here. However, when combined with the berries, it was a bit better.


The eleventh course was an interesting intermezzo--a lemongrass and chili pepper sorbet. This was actually fabulous and very, very cold--I wished it had been a desert!

The twelfth course was a clementine granite (kind of like frozen ice shavings of clementine), an unusual creation that looked like a sunnyside-up egg composed of white chocolate (the egg white) and passion fruit (yolk), caramel crisps with a green tea filling and tropical fruits (kiwi, mango, pineapple). The red, plum-like wine was a strong wine that I guess went well with this bizarre combination of flavors (how do you pair that with a wine?)--the dish was interesting, but more interesting than it was tasty (although I loved the clementine granite).


The thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth courses were a fresh fruit plate of exotic fruits that were very fresh and delicious, chestnut-honey madelines (amazing), and a jasmine-flavored shot of eggnog served in an egg. These were all tasty and a nice way to finish.


And so came the end of my marathon meal, at which point I had had enough to drink for a while. I wasn't so much full as I was satiated--I felt like I had eaten and experienced everything epicurean that I wanted to experience in Paris. L'Astrance is one amazing, incredible, over-the-top place that I'm thrilled I had the chance to experience--indisputably the most memorable dining experience period.

Monsieur Pascal Barbot, everybody!

Well, I just got back from what seemed like a never-ending lunch at L'Astrance--four hours! After entering at noon and leaving around 4pm, I can honestly say that that was the longest and most interesting culinary experience of my entire life. It ended up being about 15 courses, almost each one matched with a different wine. As the pours were generous, I ended up the equivalent of almost 15 glasses of wines, so suffice it to say that I'm pretty damn drunk right now and was really feeling the alcohol towards the end of my meal. It was perhaps my fault, in that I kept drinking the wine, but the sommelier as well should've realized that he was pouring me a crazy amount of wine. Nevertheless, it was an amazing experience, particularly one waiter who was the nicest guy and kept talking and laughing with me (finally asking me if I was in the restaurant industry haha). It was an amazing meal--incredible, daring combinations with wonderful flavors--that I will shortly report on as soon as the restaurant sends me an e-mail with my full menu including wines (they will do that within a day or so--they change the menu daily and often per-person, so they don't write down what they're doing). I wrote down roughly what I ate, but in case I missed anything, I'll have them send it to me. A perfect meal to the end of classes--a bientot.

3 month wait? Ya, no thanks.

So every time I've called Yves Camdeborde's incredibly hot restaurant Le Comptoir (du Relais), winner of innumerable accolades and endless praise, I've been told that there is no chance I can even make a reservation, and that the wait just keeps getting longer. Apparently now, you cannot get a table until March or April of next year! Well folks, I'm back to report that if you're brave and dressed warmly, you don't even need a reservation. You see, Yves' place has a few tables set up outside (right on the charming Carrefour de l'Odeon) for walk-ups (a Babbo-like policy) that are under heating lamps and are nicely set with ribbon-tied blankets. I had read somewhere on the web about people walking up to these tables and eating under the blankets. Well, tonight I ventured to do the same, on a night that was neither too cold nor especially warm. Yet under the heating lamps and blankets (and with a little red), you wouldn't have even known it was cold.


Yves Camdeborde is arguably the hottest chef in Paris right now. Not so much because he is her best nor her most innovative, but because he is essentially a chef that makes waves. It was Camdeborde who left the Crillon, a temple of French haute cuisine, and struck out on his own in a small bistro on the outskirts of Paris (14th arrondissement) called La Regalade. Rather than command absurd prices for his incredible cooking, Camdeborde charged a flat 30 euros for a wonderful, even lavish dinner that made you feel like you were robbing him blind. Others followed suit, creating a whole new wave of contemporary, haute bistros run by well-trained and skilled Frenchmen that were in themselves remarkable food experiences (without the pomp and stiffness of a Taillevent or a Crillon). Yves closed La Regalade to open a hotel with his wife, and the new restaurant serves as the hotel's table.

I've had lunch at Le Comptoir, but dinner is a totally different affair. During the day, the bistro-fare is a la carte. If you scroll down, you can see the lunch I enjoyed of a foie-gras terrine and braised beef cheeks--a nice lunch, yet nothing particularly remarkable. I had heard wonderful things about dinner, a no-choice, 7 course menu that changes nightly. At only 40 euros, regardless of the quality and the man at the stove, this is a steal. However, after my meal tonight, I can't really say I would ever go back.

Before I get into the food, I will say that Camdeborde is extremely friendly and talkative, as he tolerated my jumbled French and spoke to me for a good 5 minutes (and reappeared several times). Further, the New York Times, in its never-ending obsession with Paris, is doing another article on five new Paris haute bistros. One of them is, of course, Le Comptoir (it would be absurd not to include it--this place has gotten more press and praise than any restaurant in a while). There was a photographer there from the Times tonight who asked if he could take my picture while I was eating--perhaps you will see me in the Travel section in January? They'll also be featuring Benoit (blah), Gaya Rive Gauche (Pierre Gagnaire's place, very cool, very friendly, very innovative, nice lunch there, posted below) and a few others. See kids, I know how to pick my places...

Ah yes, the food. Check the menu out for yourself.


While you're placing the blanket over yourself on a winter night, the wait staff will bring out a plate of what they call "Saint Lucie," or what I would call homemade Terra Chips. Now to be sure, these are better than the real thing, but does it really warrant being considered a course, let along an amuse-bouche?


Next came the cream soup, a trademark of the bistro chefs from the Basque region of France (of which Camdeborde is a product). Yves' was a creme de haricot mais Bearnais, Perle du japon et foie gras--a cream of what I guess is a type of white stringbean and corn poured over pieces of foie gras and tapioca balls. I've had a bunch of these now, where they place something in the bowl (in this case, pieces of foie gras and tapioca balls--interesting combination) and pour the soup over it--I can easily say that this was the most flavorful and the lightest of the soups I've had.


The fish course was the biggest misfire of the night. Choux farci d'emiettee de chair de tourteau, beurre de caviar de hareng--something I'm not going to translate, basically a biggggggggg mistake. Technically it was somewhat admirable (somewhat...), placing the crab within the lettuce and topping it with a butter sauce infused with herring caviar, yet the flavors were just disgusting, the lettuce became quite soggy from the sauce, and the sauce was far too heavy and grossly flavored from the herring to even begin to enjoy this dish. Nasty.



Out came the coeur de rumsteck de blonde d'Aquitaine, poivrade rotie et truffee, jus pied de veau--a delicious piece of meat (who knew rumsteak could be so good) that was wonderfully cooked (bordering on raw at points--if I get salmonella, we'll know why) and simply served with a roasted and truffle-infused artichoke. The artichoke didn't really do much at all, perhaps even took away from the meat, but the meat was just so tender and flavorful that I can't say anything bad about it (unless I get food poisoning...but at least it was worth it).



Those men from the Pays-Basque really can eat, but by now I was full. The cheese plate came from P. Boursault, a fromagerie that is in my opinion both heinous and limited. Nevertheless, Yves is limited in his budget, and it is surprising that he has even decided to include a gratis cheese plate. The cheese plate is tastefully put together and you are free to serve yourself. While most of the cheeses were far from memorable, I did enjoy the gour noir and a nice piece of brebis served with honey and fresh cherries.


The meal came to an end on a bad note with a dessert that was had a coffee flavoring that was far too strong for my tastes. I didn't even eat more than a bite or two before I pushed it aside, surprised by a number of Yves' choices. I understand it must be hard to have a new menu every night, but I figured that between the raves I'd heard and a chef of Yves' quality, the meal would've been a little better than it was. Despite the winners (the steak and the soup), the losers far outnumbered the winners. Coupled with mediocre service and a 3-month wait, I say don't bother--this city has more than enough other places where you can get an incredible meal. Nevertheless, it may have just been an off night. I plan on passing by again one night soon and looking at the menu more closely to see if it is worthwhile to give it another chance.


As far as other things in life, finals are finished--had my last two today. I have just one more paper to write (albeit a short one) and three classes to sit through before I never have a class in French again. Crazyyyyyyy to think that for the first time since I was a wee boy (12 years old), I won't be taking any French classes. Such is life.

Liz's mom comes this weekend--some more meals (I'm going to explode) and some more Paris. I think we're going to hit the outlets in the suburbs on Saturday (haha--hey man, they have Kenzo, A.P.C., Givenchy, Dunhill, Charles Tyrwhitt, Diesel, Armani, Agnes B., Longchamp, Burberry, Etro, plus a number of others). After they leave, we have a busy four days (ballet tickets at the Palais Garnier, dinner out in the country at Les Magnolias, the Vienna 1900/Klimt exhibit at the Grand Palais, two cooking classes--pork in five spices and honey and scallops, and some packing in between) before Margot comes and we hit up Paris again. I'm excited for Margot to come, since it means we're on a budget and gives us the opportunity to venture into new ethnic places, like this Mauritian-Senegalese place which just sounds delicious (i.e. curried pork with coconut--how good does that sound). A word on that really quickly--the French island colonies, most notably Mauritius and Martinique, have DELICIOUS flavors. Le Chamarre is arguably one of my favorite French restaurants and is no question the most flavorful (I have a date to return there as well). Back to Margot being here, we're going to do some fun things we haven't done yet--ice skating at the rink on the second floor of the Eiffel Tower, a trip out to Disneyland Paris, Willy Ronis photo exhibition, and others. Should be a good time. Then comes New Years (bringing out the Besancon champagne) and our flight back to New York. Bye bye Paris...please note that I end 50% of my posts like this.

Willy Ronis--The Chronicler of All Things Parisian

I am a blog-posting machine today. I finally figured out the topic for the fourth and last final paper I'm writing (and what is sadly the second-to-last paper I will probably ever write in French). School is coming to a close, with two finals left on Tuesday and one on Wednesday. I can't believe that I am only here for three more weeks! It is making me crazy--I do not want to leave. I am happy though in that I feel that I've gotten to most of things I wanted to do. I actually just got tickets to a new ballet based on Degas' paintings of ballerinas that is playing at the Palais Garnier (the beautiful opera house--the l'Opera area of Paris--with the incredible Chagall ceiling), as well as tickets to the "Vienna, 1900" exhibition, showcasing the works of Gustav Klimt and others at the Palais Garnier. Also on the list are returns to the Musee d'Orsay, the Louvre and the Pompidou, as well as numerous churches and the Pantheon. I'll of course hang out some more on choice streets in the Marais, Canal St-Martin, the Latin Quarter, and the Rochechouart neighborhood--a quartier populated by North African immigrants that will, if I guess right, soon see a large extent gentrification, where one can score deliciously cheap Moroccan and Ethiopian meals. When Liz's sister comes, we'll be doing some ice skating at the rink on the 1st floor of the Eiffel Tower (how cool) and going to Disneyland Paris (a dream fulfilled yay) and the nearby outlets. Also, I am very much looking forward to getting to the Willy Ronis photo exhibition being shown at the Hotel de Ville (City Hall). Arguably the most famous photographer of Parisian scenes (sharing the title with his contemporary, Henri Cartier-Besson), the Hotel de Ville staging presents an overview of his works from throughout his lifetime. Ronis more often than not takes photos of normal scenes from daily life, much like this one which I particularly like of the boy running with his baguette (that is the French Gregg at age 5). I am going to miss my baguettes--steaming hot, so flavorful, crunchy outside yet moist, doughy and steaming-hot inside. Lots to do, lots to do--but it will be gotten to, and I will no doubt eat an unhealthy number of baguettes (and other breads) before I leave. Hopefully I won't look like the dough boy when I come home...

Cooking with Gregg

After gathering some deluxe cote de boeuf and plenty of vegetables, I set out to make sauteed steaks with garlic, peppers, onions and almandine potatoes (zey are from France). Well, in this little apartment where I'm limited to one skillet, I didn't do a half-bad job, and the meat was at least very nicely cooked. The wine was both a little young and a little strong, but nevertheless went well with the beef and flavored it nicely (I both drank it and cooked with it). I am now going to begin researching for my next cooking experiment, either Sunday or Thursday.

Vernazza, Cinque Terre

Sitting in my apartment, tons of work to get to, I'm suddenly wishing and dreaming that I was back in the serenity of the Cinque Terre. One of the most extraordinary places I've ever visited, Vernazza (the third Cinque Terre town) is a little town cut off from the rest of the world and permanently paused in time. Locals sit outside all day on benches watching their children (and often their children's children), not letting the few tourists get in their way (even at high season, locals far outnumber the tourists here). There is a butcher, a baker, two gelaterias, two pizzerias, two bars, and about three restaurants in this tiny little town basically composed of a harbor and one street (no cars though; they're forbidden in Vernazza, nor are there roads for them). I spent two of the most relaxing and incredible days of my life there, indulging in the warmth of the Ligurian people, feasting on potato gnocchi in pesto (pesto was created right here) and fresh seafood, and hiking its mountains and resting on its beaches. The views as you hike up into the mountains are incredible (despite great photographs, they do not do the beauty justice). It is the closest that a tourist can get to feeling as though they're in a non-touristy place (of course there are a myriad of tourists, yet it isn't as in-your-face). I wish I was back there right now on this cold day...

Vernazza's harbor...bootiful

On our hike from Vernazza to Monterrosso...

Man this pesto gnocchi is tasty...and man am I grossly sweating from that hike...

The single happiest moment of my life...lying and sleeping in the Mediterranean

L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon

After a disappointing meal at Taillevent, a culinary rebound was due (you can't have two consecutive failures in Paris--mais non). Tonight's dinner at L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon, Joel Robuchon's first attempt at a comeback, surpassed my expectations. I know that this place has been hyped up (to say the least), but a lot of people that I know have not enjoyed it very much. Well kids, this was a great meal and a surprising amount of fun.

The restaurant is set up basically like a square sushi bar (3-sided) with a huge area in the middle where all of the chefs prepare the food right out in the open. What is great about this set-up is that not only does it take a lot of the pretentiousness and needless waiters wandering around out of the equation, but it also can make for some unlikely conversations. Seated to my left was an American couple that, on a whim, decided to come to Paris for a week. A dentist from Rockville Centre and his wife, the two were unable to speak French and I swooped in to their rescue. We began to talk a little while--they told me their son goes to Wash. U, blah blah blah. They were very friendly and continued to offer me everything they had throughout the whole meal, but I only took their first--and most alluring--offering: a glass of 2000 Chateau Latour.

I have tasted Latour before (or any of the other big six Grand Premier Crus from Bordeaux, save for Haut-Brion), nor did I expect to taste it on this trip to France (maybe when I have the big bucks in some years). Here comes my snobbery--it was a 2000, a vintage way too young to drink right now, but nevertheless, Robert Parker gave it a 98/100, the highest note since the 1996 vintage. They dropped the big bucks on the wine (I want to say it cost about 7-10 times the price of my meal) and to be quite honesty with you, it certainly was not worth the money. The wine was nice and got better as it breathed, but the 1997 Chateau Sociando-Mallet (a wine from the Medoc in an undistinguished year--what a wine snob I am and I don't even know anything) wasn't that far off at about 5% of the price. Anyway, one more thing I can say I did in France.

The food shined at Robuchon and I don't have any complaints at all. I began with Le jambon "Iberico de Bellota," escorte de pain toaste a la tomate--Iberico ham from a small independent producer (that Robuchon is practically keeping afloat independently) served with a modernized bruschetta. The bruschetta was delicious, but the star was the acorn-fed ham from Iberico that you cannot even find in America. Spanish hams are illegal to import to the US (although that will soon be changing apparently) for sanitary reasons, but what America doesn't know is that it is missing what is arguably the best ham in the world. These pigs in the small town of Iberico, Spain feast on acorns, giving their ham (and themselves haha) a flavor unlike most other hams. I've had Iberico hams a few times now, both in Spain and France, but Robuchon has found what is by far the best Iberico ham I've tasted (I'm not alone in that sentiment)--delich.

I moved on to Le ris de veau, cloute de laurier frais a la feuille de romaine farcie--the most delicious sweetbread I've ever had the pleasure of eating. This sweetbread was so perfectly cooked--moist on the inside, yet the perfect amount of crisp on the outside. The flavor was incredible, as was the flavor in the sole piece of lettuce that sat next to my cow's thymus gland. I've never had a piece of lettuce taste like that, but I guess that is because I've never eaten chez Robuchon.

I had originally ordered Robuchon's suckling pig, but because I wanted to try his mashed potatoes, the waitress told me to switch to the venison. What a switch indeed. Robuchon's pommes puree might as well be called "butter with potatoes"; in fact, officially, the recipe calls for about 1/2 pound of butter for every pound of potatoes. Only an idiot (or any stick-thin American woman) would pass these potatoes up. They are so creamy and so incredibly flavorful--they're extremely buttery, don't get me wrong, but not in the way that mashed potatoes in America are. They're creamy, perfectly pureed, yet have so many flavors and are just beyond description (note my fork marks in the potatoes--my mouth couldn't wait for the camera). It is the kind of food that you want to eat when your doctor tells you that you're about to die (a little morbid, but it makes its point).

Le chevreuil en mignonnette a l'aigre, doux et sa mousseline de celeri--the way the big guy intended Bambi to be cooked. Actually, a funny story about that--the first time I ordered venison, I didn't know the French word for it. When I asked the waiter to translate it, he replied "bambi," not knowing the word himself haha. After I had the best suckling pig of my life at Le Chamarre, I've been ordering it like crazy, almost at every turn. It has never been as good (frankly, it has not even been good) as that day, but I figured perhaps Robuchon's was worth the chance. Well, unless I return (likely), we won't know. What I do know however is that the venison at L'Atelier is, like the sweetbread, the most incredible venison I've ever had. I had decent venison at Mon Vieil Ami and very good freshly hunted venison at L'Os a Moelle, yet this venison made those dishes look like my mom or dad made them (now that is an insult). I asked for the venison to be cooked rare, but it ended up coming out more like medium-rare (not a problem). The meat was so tender and reminded me of a cross between Peter Luger's porterhouse and a wilder, gamier taste. Plus, only adding to the wonder of this dish (I'm licking my lips as we speak), it had shavings of black truffles on the top. The pear to its left was skinned and deliciously roasted, providing a perfect contrast to the venison (nothing beats cooked fruit/meat combos). The celery mousse to its right was rather tasteless and unnecessary, but I just left it there, uneaten, as it belonged. This was the best dish of the night and is easily one of the best dishes I had in France.

I wasn't going to order dessert, but instead another small plate (they're tapas, small portions), but the waitress brought me the dessert menu. Nothing really interested me, but I'm always a sucker for chocolate, so I ordered something that looked like a Carvel sundae with crunchies, but tasted much better. A mix of hot valrhona chocolate, ivory white chocolate sorbet and chocolate crumble on the top, the dish was yummy, but I could've done without it (luckily, like everything else, it was small).

I left perfectly satiated--not at all full and very pleased with my meal. A great place and they are building one in New York (plus he already has another place, a more serious affair, in Vegas)! After a cooking class, I needed some culinary inspiration in the form of dishes that I could never make if I spent every day of the rest of my life cooking. Yet, that is why God invented restaurants!

Chef Gregg, Redux

Joel Robuchon, Thomas Keller, Ferran Adria, Mario Batali, Daniel Boulud, myself--the world's finest chefs. Particularly the man who only began his formal training this afternoon at the Atelier des Chefs student kitchen in the 20th arrondissement of the world's culinary capital, Paris. I arrived, washed my hands and donned my apron. Sur le menu aujourd'hui? Sauté d'agneau au vin rouge et aux chataignes--lamb cooked in red wine with shallots, auvergne potatoes and chesnuts.

Atelier des Chefs is a great concept from a culinary talent and a man who went to HEC (the French Wharton). In what is basically a culinary school for the masses, AdC offers individual classes ranging from one course (like that which I took today) to a multi-course, day-long feast and seminar. The one course is a fantastic deal that you could even do during your lunch break. A maximum of six people go to the small training kitchen and are instructed by one of four chefs, all of whom have trained at numerous French temples of haute cuisine. It only takes about 30 minutes to prepare the entire dish (some elements of which are of course pre-prepared), after which you sit down at a table with the other people and are served the dish along with added extras such as wine, coffee and dessert.

I even learned (somewhat) the fine art of plating, perhaps equally as important as the food to the success of a restaurant (you will argue, but i've seen one too many restaurants that suck yet have beautiful plating and get away with it). The dish wasn't the most memorable meal, but it didn't matter--I made that baby.

Tomorrow, I'm going to delve further into the culinary world and cook a meal on my own (without the supervision of an accomplished chef). As always, I was too ambitious at first--I selected Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill classic--New Mexican Spice Rubbed Pork Tenderloin with Bourbon Ancho Chile Sauce and Sweet Potato Tamale with Crushed Butter Pecan. After dreaming for one second, I came to my senses and found a rather simple yet good looking recipe--Sauteed Filet Mignon with Red Wine and Bell Peppers. The dish can be made without an oven and a grill [neither of which are available in my ultra-lux (read: poor man's) Paris pad] and is rather easy to prepare. Of course, being the loser that I am, I went to Grande Epicerie and bought all the ingredients at robbery prices, as well as a nice bottle of 2003 Clos des Grives (Crozes Hermitage) to both drink and cook with. Check out my astounding wine collection--two bottles and counting (hey, at least they're small producers that won't be on too many wine lists). Update coming soon as to my unparalleled failure as a chef--stay tuned.

We'll Always Have Paris...

I've conquered this place, through and through. In the three-plus months I've been in Paris, I have really seen, done, and eaten (well, given the budget) the large majority of things that I set out to do. I've broken bread with the billionaires at Taillevent, inspected Matisse's studies of a woman's back at the Centre Pompidou, and even managed to live with a real French (n.b. not Parisian) family. I've tasted the offerings of such culinary legends as Alain Ducasse, Pierre Gagnaire, Alain Soliveres, Jean-Francois Piege, Yves Camdeborde, Pascal Barbot, Christian Constant, Roland Durain and endless others. I've seen at least some work of virtually every European artist of note. And even more so, I've managed to experience Paris as a semi-Parisian; taking classes with French university students, getting to know the local boulanger/patissier/boucher, stepping in the dog shit that the city neglects to clean in the outer arrondissements (n.b. the Paris sans tourists), and navigating the large bulk of the city w/o maps. I know I still have another month, but perhaps because school is coming to a close, so too it seems is my Paris experience. This really has been the most incredible and unique experience in my life; never again will I experience something quite like this. I'm now of the belief that everyone should go abroad, particularly to a country whose language is not your own--I'm sorry, but if you go to London, you might as well just stay in the US. Don't get me wrong, London is cool, but culturally the differences are too slim (though I'll have those that will argue with me). I'm thinking back about nine years right now, to the spring of 6th grade, when I decided that I would take French instead of Spanish because I had heard that the teacher was great and gave very little homework. Almost a decade later, I couldn't be more thrilled with my decision. This semester in Paris has afforded me an incredible love for this city; not quite a second home, but a place to which I will hopefully return numerous times in my life. If anything, I've learned what I've always known: Paris defines cool. Consider me Frenchified.

The Misfire that was Taillevent

So tonight I enjoyed what was my first (real) Michelin three-star dinner. Oh no, not a three-star according to Michelin's New York ratings (a pretty lousy system if you ask me), but a true Paris three-star, one that has held its stars for several decades. Taillevent, run by the venerable (apparently, though you could've fooled me) Jean-Claude Vrinat and his chef Alain Solivieres, is a temple of classicism. The food, the service, the converted townhouse (once the residence of Napoleon's half-brother, the Duke of Morny)--everything is very Versailles-esque. The service, of course, was attentive, but stoic in the manner that is characteristic of so many fine restaurants (although one waiter was particularly warm). The setting, a beautiful converted in townhouse, was gorgeous and flawless--nothing bad I can say. The food, however, is another story. This meal was more than unremarkable--the food was relatively bland and the flavors were dull and often non-existent. To be honest, now that I'm done with the meal, I can understand why Taillevent has its three-stars and has kept them since the 70s--it has not changed a bit since it achievied its third star (virtually the same menu, same service, etc.). While the touches are nice--autographed copy of the large signature menu and a handshake from Jean-Claude Vrinat when you leave, as well as a copy of the particularly menu which you enjoyed that evening--these things don't impress me. Michelin's stars, like the stars of the New York Times, focus on the little things that for me (I know they do for others) don't matter--the number of servers, the beauty of the dinnerware, the music playing and overall ambiance. I'm there to eat, and I want to eat something delicious, innovative and, if you have three Michelin Stars or four from the New York Times, breathtaking--Taillevent certainly did not deliver (though, if you're a fan of dry classicism and uninspirational food, by all means, go for it). Not one for stodgy, largely old-world food, I must say that I suggested Le Meurice over Taillevent, yet was voted down because the former has only two stars (though in the 2006 guide, it is denoted as an espoir, which in demystified language means that it will almost certainly receive its third star next year--coincidentally, Liz's grandma greatly enjoyed her lunch there).

We ordered the chef's menu degustation and began with an amuse bouche of une velouté de lentilles avec des morceaux de foie gras--a mediocre start to the meal, very uninteresting--the foie gras did little to enhance the soup and was overpowered by the lentils.


We began with une crème brûlée de foie gras de canard aux fèves de Tonka--duck foie gras creme brulee with Tonka beans. This was a very tasty dish, one of my two favorites of the night--it was dessert-like, very creamy with a hint of cinnamon. The flavors worked nicely together and I'd like to congratulate Taillevent for managing to use a little creativity (har har--I'm still the punk American kid and they're the never-to-be-dethroned three-starred French institution).


Following the first course was une ravioli de langoustines dans une emulsion de crustacés à la coriandre--A langoustine ravioli in an emulsion of crustaceans and coriander. This was my favorite dish of the night, though Liz and her grandma didn't particularly enjoy it (in fact, her grandma sent it back and received a different dish in turn). The langoustines were very plump and tasty, nicely accentuated by the well-textured emulsion (not to thick, not too thin), though it could have been a bit more flavorful.


The fish course was un rouget barbet en filet poêlé, brandade de merlu--a standard piece of red mullet (though nicely cooked, to be sure) that lacked originality, though the pairing with codfish brandade was nice. However, there was a seaweed-type taste in a green sauce that was on the plate (perhaps it was just my color association) that was way to bitter for the fish and ended up being a disgusting pairing.


The meat course was un selle d'agneau princier en rognonnade, jus au piment d'Espelette--the back of a farm-raised lamb from Pauillac with Espelette pepper juice served rare. The lamb was nicely cooked and tasty, though it was nothing near spectacular (and of course, it is the only course where we forgot to take a picture). In fact, to be quite honest, the menu at Taillevent is just not at all what interests me in terms of haute cuisine, but I digress.

The cheese course was no better, as they served a fresh goat cheese that was, while better than your average chevre, nothing to particularly write home about. However, I will admit that when tasted together with the tomato tapenade that was on the plate, the flavor combination worked nicely and greatly enhanced the course.


Finally, the desserts, which were arguably the most sub-par part of this meal. Une gelée d'agrumes au miel et oeuf-neige and un cannelloni au chocolat et au thé fum--a citrus and honey jelly with œufs à la neige and a Chocolate and smoked tea cannelloni. To be quite honest, the combination of chocolate and tea is one that I've only recently warmed to (at Sadaharu Aoki), and the pairing at Taillevent showed me why the combination is often a lousy one. The jelly was particularly lacking in any flavor, despite a deceptively pleasing presentation. I guess in part it is my fault--I should be more accepting of the failure and at least credit Taillevent for trying to be creative.




The petit-fours were an embarrassment to the restaurant--I could've bought better patisseries from any patisserie on my block. This was just a beyond-mediocre experience, and I hope that one day, Michelin inspectors finally take away a star that Taillevent does not deserve (fat chance). I hate to sound like a brat and food snob, but this meal was just an entire misfire on the part of the kitchen staff. Nevertheless, I had a great time and it was nice to spend it in the company of Liz and her grandma. Plus, you can't take away from the wonderful service (though, again, for a restaurant with such great service and such a large waitstaff, two plates were often brought before the third and glasses were often left empty, but I'm just being picky). I hope that my upcoming meals at Le Meurice and L'Astrance will make up for Taillevent's shortcomings.

Oy...

Just a random realization:

Writing a 10-page paper in French on things that you've never seen in a single day is more complicated than it seems...

Not much else is going on besides my endless procrastination, so I figured I'd post some random pictures from my days as a European.

Myself enjoying (detesting) some great (gross) Hungarian food in Budapest...

The remnants of an almond croissant from Pierre Herme...

Eating some good kosher eats from rue des Rosiers...

In front of Hotel de Ville...

This just in...

Not of concern to anyone else probably, but I am capitalizing on my four full days at home in January before I go back to Penn.

I'll be meeting my good friend Ivan on Tuesday for a 9-course tasting (which should hopefully turn into 12-courses) at wd-50, the amazingly creative and super-innovative (almost science laboratory-like) restaurant run by the zany Wylie Dufresne (formerly of 71 Clinton Fresh Food, what a name for a restaurant and a chef). With dishes like Pickled beef tongue, fried mayonnaise, onion streusel and octopus, celery pesto, pineapple, mojama, marcona almonds and venison tartare, nori, edamame ice cream and braised pineapple, mustard ice cream, coconut, I will finally be getting the creativy and craziness I've been hoping for. I urge to check out his web site at http://www.wd-50.com to see the crazy and beautiful pictures of his food.

On Wednesday, Liz and I are going to the theater to see Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick in the Odd Couple (the critics can screw themselves--I can laugh at those two without them even speaking practically). Before that, we will pig out on some good-old American goodness at the obligatory4:30PM reservation at Peter Luger in Williamsburgh.

Perhaps Thursday at Daruma?

I hardly get to sit before I go back to school, but such is life. I wasn't giving away New Year's Eve in Paris...

Off to Versailles

Today, Liz, myself and her grandma spent the day at Versailles. We met up in the morning and took the RER out to the Versailles train station, where we spent what felt like a lifetime looking for a cab. Finally we got the bright idea to call one (found the number on a driverless taxi window) and it quickly whisked us off to the Trianon Palace.

The Trianon Palace, once a palace used by France's finest on the grounds of Versailles, now serves as a lovely hotel which houses Les Trois Marches, the two-starred Michelin restaurant headed by Gerard Vie. Vie is a very well-known Frenchman of the old school, and I couldn't think of a more fitting, more classical setting in which to sample Vie's talent.

We sat down to a menu whose cheapest offering was a 180 euro tasting menu (a la carte would've run us at least 160 euro, so why bother). When the waiter came back, I asked about the possibility of having the 58 euro menu served during the week. After initially answering no, we persisted, and he unwillingly accepted with the condition that we have no choices (although he asked me what fish I would like in the main course haha).

The amuse bouche came out, which I unfortunately don't have a picture of (it was the only dish that was unusual and innovative of the meal). It was basically a rarely-cooked sliced beef dish served under a red-pepper gelee with an accompanying glass containing a hot puree of nettle with a wafer-thin poppy crisp on top. The dish was unfortunately not that tasty, save for the nettle puree (which was great). The service was rather inconsistent, with the head waiter being a lousy grump and the other, younger waiters being very friendly and attentive.

The first course was a deliciously cooked salmon served with a somewhat piquante sauce (I can't place my finger on what it was, reminiscent of a green sauce often served at indian restaurants). The salmon was virtually rare and so moist that it would break when touched with a fork. The salmon was served with greens and flowers that made me feel as if I were eating a forest, yet they provided a great accompaniment to this delicious salmon. Something I would never order if given the menu, the salmon made me glad to have no choices (I often find that to be the case).

After the salmon, we moved on to the second course--a very simple preparation of pan-seared scallops served with lentils. I unfortunately cannot comment on the cooking at this restaurant because I had its cheapest offering, but from what I also saw on the regular carte, the cooking is not that innovative nor at all deserving of two Michelin stars (I'd give it one, but I am neither French nor ignorant enough to be a Michelin critic). Nevertheless, the food was all great and the light accompaniments really made the fish shine. The scallops themselves were beautifully cooked as well, and the lentils served as a nice contrasting balance.

After our main course was the part of this meal that I had most eagerly anticipated--the part of this meal that made it as enjoyable as it was. THE CHARIOTS OF CHEESE!! What a loser name--who would call it that (to be fair, it is just the French translation for cart, but it sounds fun and funny in English)? Anyway, I guess it is only fair that they call it such, since they brought out three carts (one goat, one cow, and one sheep) with at least 100 cheeses on them in total. Not to mention that the young waiter cutting our selections was the friendliest of all the waiters. My pictures, as always, will not do this justice. I asked for a selection of the chevres (goat cheeses), the Saint Marcelin, and then a plate of his favorite cheeses. Needless to say, we couldn't finish what they gave us, but it was a great sampling of cheese and by far my most fun (and informative) cheese tasting a Paris (though I'll never forget that sweet goat cheese at Le Troquet--the single best cheese I've enjoyed in Paris). Not to mention that the Saint Marcelin was delicious and they gave us a nice tasting of breads (olive, nut, levain).

God I want those cheeses right now. The room is also very beautiful and had a gorgeous chandelier and a lot of natual light (I sound like my mom). But let's not kid ourselves--I'd eat a great meal on a park bench and not care less).

The dessert was a hollowed-out half-scoop of a rich and thick vanilla bean and mango ice cream filled with fresh mango and topped by a mango crisp. Not pictured was the accompany coconut and mango infused sorbet. This dessert was very tasty, particularly the coconut sorbet. Made me dream that I was back in Hawaii, eating at Alan Wong's and surfing (well, at least pretending to surf). Yummmm.

We ended with very nice petit fours--another mango crisp, a delicious and incredibly soft mango macaron (a new flavor not yet consumed by the macaron master, gregg) and a mango and mocha infused chocolate. Of course, the benefit of eating with two small women is that it all ends up on my plate (literally). Here are just a few other random pictures snapped at the lunch (one with food in my mouth, typical Gregg), with Liz's grandma Phyllis making her first appearance in cyberspace.

After lunch, we took the nice walk through the king's gardens and arrived at the chateau. We checked out the Royal Apartments and more of the exterior areas of the chateau. Combined with the areas usually closed off to the public that we saw at Versailles on Nuit Blanche, we've now seen as much as we could've. Although to be frank, the opulence gets a little sickening after a while--how much gold and rare marble can one use? Luckily, my humble apartment in Paris has neither gold nor marble (nor an elevator to carry me to the 6th floor for that matter). A very nice time--very much looking forward to our dinner at Taillevent on Monday!

Quelques photos de la visite de ma famille a Paris

Center of Paris, Straddling the Eastern and Western portions of Paris, Kilometer Zero, In front of Notre Dame

Moms & Pops, Taking in some tea at Laduree

The king and his mistress @ Laduree

Gregg, Liz and Brian at Laduree

Some ugly people I found on the street

Who is that dashingly handsome man with the girl?

National Lampoon's European Vacation

L'Ardoise

Liz had to skip town today, the day of her grandma's arrival to Paris, so I met up with her for a quick welcome dinner at l'Ardoise in the 1st. Ardoise is a small, rather uncharming place with an often-changing blackboard menu that has some nice offerings. I figured I'd go without the pictures tonight, heh.

We shared two appetizers--a simple terrine of duck foie gras with a small salad and pieces of rarely-cooked quail with foie gras nestled in the middle. Both were very tasty, particularly when the foie gras from the terrine was spread on the nice country loaf.

We then shared two entrees--venison cooked with artichoke and bacon in red wine and a great magret de canard roasted with pears. Both of these were very tasty, particularly the duck which was wonderfully cooked and very flavorful. The desserts that we shared--a millefeulle with vanilla creme and profiteroles--we could've done without, but what are ya gonna do.

Liz's grandma lives like a rock star and has decided to carry both of us along for the journey to Paris' finest (Taillevent, Les Trois Marches, perhaps Le Meurice or Les Ambassadeurs for brunch). She's a lot of fun and definitely lives it up--we'll no doubt have a blast over this next week.

La famille; deuxieme (et finale) partie

It has been a little while--spent some time away in Bruges and staying with my family in their Paris hotel as well--but now I'm back with a lot of things to digest (in every sense).

On Monday, my family spent a great day in the Marais. After my class at Paris VII-Jussieu (for which, by the way, I wriggled my way out of the final), I met my family at their hotel and we headed over to check out all of the hotels particuliers (old, ridiculous, chateau-like mansions owned by friends of the king in the 17th and 18th centuries), Place des Vosges, rue des Rosiers, the Holocaust memorial and numerous other things. We had some crepes for a quick lunch and then checked out the Picasso Museum, the largest museum of Picasso's work (created out of Picasso's forced repayment of owed back-taxes to the French government). However, when we arrived (and convenient, after we had paid for our tickets), we were told that 200 of the museum's 250 works were on loan to a museum in Berlin for the museum's 20th anniversary! Nevertheless, all of the major works that the museum holds managed to still be there, so it was a great experience. The museum is in a beautiful old home (Hotel Sale) and it was a great follow-up to the Picasso Museum in Barcelona (which I enjoyed much more).

Monday night it was off to L'Epi Dupin, of which I have no pictures (I gave up picture taking for the rest of my parent's stay), but was probably my favorite meal with them while they were here. We went for a suggested Gewurtztraminer from 2003, which ended up being grossly sugary and not-at-all dry like the waiter explained. However, the food more than saved the meal. I had a delicious chausson aux pommes et boudin noir, a light puff pastry filled with blood sausage and cinnamon-laden apples served with some greens in a light vinaigrette--scrumptious. With my brother, I shared a delicious coquilles st jacques, riz de truffes et cepes (pan-seared scallops dish over a flavorful white truffle risotto with porcini mushrooms) and joue de porc aux lentilles [(pork cheeks in a lentil and carrot broth (not unlike the dish I had at Yves Camdeborde's le Comptoir)]--both great with very bold flavors. Finally, we ended with a number of desserts, the most notable of which was a feuillete de pommes, glace caramel--somewhat like an apple tart, yet thinner and more segmented, with a great, silky caramel gelatto. This was a very good meal in a small, very atmospheric space right near the Bon Marche in the 6th.

Tuesday, I had a full day at school, while my family headed off to the Musee d'Orsay. Meeting for dinner at Le Pre Verre, I was looking forward to tasting the dinner offerings of Phillipe Delacourcelles, a pretty inventive chef known for his asian influences and daring combinations. The dinner was pretty abominable, with few inventive combinations and pretty horrendous dishes. The only redeeming part was my appetizer, a terrine de potiron et foie gras, a terrine of foie gras and pumpkin which was a delicious combo. Yet the cochon de lait (suckling pig) that I had been craving all week and finally made an appearance on a menu was disgusting and placed in a gross broth, as was the creme caramel dessert that was interestingly served with salt and pepper. They can't all be great, what are you going to do.

Wednesday was the same situation, with a full-day of school for me and a day-trip to Versailles for my family to check out the chateau. We met for dinner at Quinze (Thierry Burlot), the eponymous restaurant of the up-and-coming Thierry Burlot, now also chef at the Phillippe Starck-designed (and way more expensive) Baccarat Room. We were greeted with an amuse bouche of baked clams with an unusual flavor that I can't put my finger on, but they were delicious. After ordering, we were given a flavorful second amuse of a pumpkin puree with thick pieces of pumpkin inside. I shared two appetizers with my mom--langoustine dumplings with coriander (very yummy) and the most interesting combination thus far, a crispy-skinned (yet grilled) rouget (red mullet) served among...cotton candy. A pretty crazy combination, made me dream of a meal at el Bulli, yet very tasty nonetheless. The main was even more interesting--pan-seared scallops (the season is just starting) served with cooked marshmallows and grilled chestnuts. For dessert, I had the house classic, a thin and smooth caramel glace with fleur de sel prepared tableside--outrageous. This meal was delicious and another contender for best meal. Plus, at 36 euros, this is one of the better values in an often overpriced Paris.

Thanksgiving Thursday, after an early-morning French class (50% of the class in attendance), I jetted over to Poilane (picked up some croissants, a pain au chocolat and a chasson aux pommes for the road for my family) and Grande Epicerie (composed an awesome sandwich on delicious, fresh foccacia with eggplant puree, grilled chicken with parsley, zucchini, eggplant, tomato, fresh spinach and comte cheese) and then met my family to head off to the train for Bruges. The train ride went really smoothly (outside of the fact that my dad realized he had forgotten all of their passports and flipped out, but it didn't matter in the end as we quickly realized that most stations in the EU don't have customs checks) and quickly; before we knew it, we had entered the fairy tale that is Bruges.

Bruges is just really gorgeous in a beyond-words type of way. It really is not unfair to ask you to picture a beautifully preserved medieval town--complete with canals, cobblestone streets, historic sites, quaint stores and restaurants, little car traffic and friendly locals. Our hotel, the Pand Romantik, was perfect--a very small, 22 room hotel with extremely friendly service, nicely decorated romantic rooms (for me and my brother, no less) and a great location. Yet the most important part of the foray into Belgium was of course, the tasting of all things Trappist.

There are only six authentic trappist beers in Belgium (and thus the world), some of which date from the 11th century. These beers are brewed in relatively small quantities by REAL Bendictine Monks (is it me, or is it beyond unchristian?) at monasteries in Belgium and are considered among the finest beers in the world. In fact, as the New York Times explains, in a survey of beer experts last year, the yellow-label (triple, 12% alcohol) beer brewed at the abbey in Westvleteren was unquestionably voted the #1 beer in the world out of hundreds of beers tasted. This beer is so rare and can only be bought once a month straight from the monastery itself (not to mention there is a two-case maximum per person and the beer runs out quickly). Well my friends, I am back from Belgium, with two bottles of Westvleteren no less.

The beers are all top-fermenting, pretty strong and often dark ales. Interestingly, the abbeys all use different strains of candy-like sugar in their beers, delivering a subtle sweetness that makes drinking this beer amazing. They are treated just as royally as wine, often considered to be finer with one-to-two years of aging. In Philadelphia, I had tasted Chimay's Chimay Triple, the most widely available (yet still not available anywhere pretty much except in very select places) of the trappist beers, at Monk's Cafe, a Belgian beer house that actually went to the monastery and worked out some arrangement to be the first American restaurant to have Chimay Triple on tap. Yet while in Bruges, myself, my dad and my brother all tasted the brews of the Orval, Westmalle and Rochefort abbeys. More importantly, I brought home two beers from each trappist monastery (plus two very serious Westmalle glasses)--lovely. You can buy these beers in certain shops in America and from a number of importers, but the prices are roughly 3x as much (yet nevertheless, it's still worth it).


Bruges was a ton of fun--delicious chocolate, beautiful gothic architecture, amazing beer, great mussels (marinated in beer, of course), scrumptious waffles and a massive collection of the works of the Dutch Masters. While we didn't really do anything specific, the allure of the small city is more so walking around and absorbing the beauty and wonder of it all. It was a great break from Paris and was a lot of fun with my family.

Back in Paris, we spent our last day all over the place. We woke up and headed over to the Grande Epicerie (by which, subsequently and expectedly, my family was awed), that gourmet mecca and food temple that everyone needs to visit. The son of a small Italian organic pig farmer from Parma set up a small area in the store where he brings his $50-a-pound organic prosciutto that is silkier and smoother than butter. Every time I am in the store, I steal a taste and talk to the guy who is very friendly (and very Italian, constantly inserting Italian words into his French heh) I am not exaggerating--I dare you to come to Paris, taste this proscuitto, and tell me you've tasted a better one in your life. I've been to Italy and have tasted many of the offerings of Parma, San Daniele, et al. You haven't tasted a prosciutto like this, sorry. This stuff just melts in your mouth like chocolate and the flavor is so powerful and delicious--I am craving it right now as I'm typing. Brian and I decided why not, you live once, let's buy a 1/4 pound and make two sandwiches. And that is just what we did, and it was the best moment of my life--haha, kidding, but close :O)

After fainting from the deliciousness of the proscuitto, and feeling to guilty to try the $100-a-pound extra-fine acorn-fed Iberico ham from a small producer, we went over to the Opera Garnier and checked out the place. Liz and I have plans to return for an opera in December, but my mom, a lover of all things Jewish (shocking, I know), wanted to check out the Chagall ceiling. I must admit, despite the fact that it has no relation to the rest of the building, the ceiling is beautiful and certainly a sight to behold.

Afterwards, my mom tried to seek out the quiche which she had drooled over five years before (I'm not alone in my love of food) to no avail, so we checked out our old hotel (Hotel Westminster, just off Place Vendome) on the way to Angelina. Arriving at Angelina, the Laduree-like, designed-for-a-grandma, Louis XIV tea salon, we sat down to some African hot chocolate and Mont Blancs (grossly heavy and not even good like I remembered them from years ago). Angelina is overrated and of course overpriced--save yourself the trip to Paris and go to Jacques Torres downtown or in Brooklyn (or the Mandarin Oriental Lobby Bar) and try his incredible spicy dark hot chocolate or his silky-smooth milk hot chocolate (his chocolate creations, and particularly his chocolate ice creams in the summer, are just absurdly rich and good). Nevertheless, Torres' shops lack that grandma-loves-it charm that Angelina has clearly captured.

Finally making our way over to the Louvre, we checked out all the classics, plus spent some time admiring the two incredible Botticelli frescos near the beginning of the Denon wing. Good stuff, the Louvre, yet no need to write--just go check it out yourself one day--there really is no museum like it in the planet.

So after the Louvre, Brian and I bailed to check out the menu of one of two possible menus for the night. After checking out a menu lacking in interesting dishes (despite hearing great things about the chef who trained at some influential Paris restaurants, most notably the insane Arpege), we decided to take the slightly long walk back to the hotel from the eastern edge of the Luxembourg Gardens. Along the way, walking down rue de Vaugirard, we conveniently passed Patisserie Sadaharu Aoki, the well-known pastry lab of the Japanese (yet quite French) pastry chef, Sadaharu Aoki. Aoki's creations are clearly influenced by both East and West, most seen in his interesting green-tea pastry creations. Brian and I sat down in the very small, three-table, all white minimalist tea-salon space and, not having eaten enough in the past 10 days, sampled Aoki's tasting platter, a six-pastry (miniature, of course) tasting comprised of a mixture of both Aoki's latest and classic offerings. Two cappucinos and six pastries later, we were satisfied. Plus, I learned that green-tea pastries (with a million other ingredients of course) from the house of Aoki are awesome.

Liz's friend Morgan was in town, so all six of us had dinner that night at Pomze, a restaurant that takes the apple to new heights. The apple is the king of the menu, incorporated into just about every dish that the restaurant offers. Additionally, the restaurant has a very tiny wine list (a crime in France) and an exhaustively long cider list. I decided to let their sommelier (or apple bartending-wiz) make up a six-glass cider tasting that was shared between a few of us. The ciders are all different in their composition and tastes and were really tasty--the French really take every alcohol seriously and go to otherwise unimaginable lengths. The bread was pretty tasty as well, nicely served with, what else, apple butter. I started with a terrine of foie gras (this seems to show up too often) and apples with a carmelized apple puree and toasts flavored with apple butter--yummm. Moving along, I had the magret de canard, served very rare over a creative and irresistable apple sauerkraut. For dessert, we shared a number of things, among which was a very tasty apple-laden cheesecake and an apple and tangerine tiramisu. Finally, the bartender came out with about 40 types of calvados (who knew this even existed) and advised us to try a 16-year old pear/apple liquer and a 1987 calvados from eastern Brittany. The calvados were great and very flavorful, bringing me back to my Besancon days tasting the mirabelle and other digestifs. The meal was a great cap to a great 10 days with my family.

Spending time with my family in Paris was a ton of fun; there was never a dull moment. They will be missed, but I will see them soon enough (I only have five more weeks in Paris!). Three more sets of visiters--Liz's grandma, Liz's mom and finally Liz's sister--will surely provide more meals, more stories and more fun. Plus, for the people not-yet-tired of my food forays, over the next 10 days, I will be going to Joel Robuchon's new spot (L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon), the father of innovative bistros L'Ardoise, the Michelin three-star and timeless Taillevent, the classic Michelin two-star Versailles temples Les Trois Marches and a host of other meals. For today and tomorrow, I need to recoop and send my stomach to rehab and eat light, not to mention do a little bit of work.

Blue (Green) Man Group Audition, Take 2

Blue (Green) Man Group Audition, Take 1

La famille; premiere partie

Alors...

My family arrived in Paris on Friday afternoon. Turns out that the family of a friend of mine from Penn (who is in Paris) is actually staying at the same hotel (as I ran into her there that morning). Ma famiglia is staying in a great hotel right near the Bon Marche (La Grande Epicerie, best food store on earth) in a lovely part of the Left Bank/St-Germain-des-Pres area right near St. Sulpice (at the crossroads of Paris' best food stores--Pierre Herme, Grande Epicerie, Poilane, Gerard Mulot--it is my paradise). They put there things down and we headed out so that I could show them the world. We walked down rue de Rennes towards Montparnasse Tower and ended up at Bread and Roses, a nice little quiche/tartes place with a large wine-by-the-glass selection and OUTRAGEOUS breads. After a quick bite, we walked through the Luxembourg Gardens and down Boul'Mich to check out the Pantheon, St. Etienne du Mont Church, Jussieu, the Sorbonne, and of course some small little cobblestone streets that couldn't be anywhere but in Paris. It was the kind of afternoon that lets Paris shine in her greatness.

That night we headed out to Flora, the epmonyous restaurant of the very talented Provencale chef, Flora Mikula. They ended up putting us in a very nice semi-private room (not unlike the time they did that at Susanna Foo in Philly) which is always a plus. We were handed a small plate of amuse-geules; a cold leek soup with cream, a small puff with fromage blanc and a yummy twist with an olive tapenade interspersed.

I started with the delicious Mijoté d’escargot et chorizo servi dans un os à moelle--a mix of snails and chorizo in a delicious sauce served inside a hollowed-out marrow bone. Very awesome presentation and delicious combination/sauce--second time I've ordered it already hehe. The picture I got is pretty crappy because a) I already started eating and b) everyone was making fun of me :(

I totally forgot to take a picture of my main course, a wok of pork with mix vegetables and three varieties of olives, but not important because it wasn't that tasty nor memorable.

Dessert was enjoyable, but nothing to write home about. More than anything else, it was just a bizarre attempt to be contemporary and progressive. A banana-like milkshake with dark chocolate, falaffel balls filled with hot chocolate, and a churro with melted dark chocolate. The wine, on the other hand, was delicious (and somehow my recommendation!); a 1999 Domaine du Colombier "Cuvee Gaby", a lovely medium-full bodied Crozes Hermitage (1999 was a good year for the Crozes, as was 2001, but 2000 not so much heh--just call me Robert Parker).

Saturday, I met my family and we jumped over to Pierre Herme, the finest patissier in the land. After buying some almond croissants, pain aux raisin and ze regular croissants, as well as the new line of tri-color macaron (check it out kids--dark chocolate half, milk chocolate half, caramel-salt filling--heavenly--sucks to be in the US), we took it out to the cafe on Place Saint Sulpice which serves as the de-facto Pierre Herme tasting center (as long as you buy some coffee, of course). Afterward, we bounced out to Montmartre and said whadup to the Sacre Coeur, Place du Tertre, Abbesses Metropolitan sign (one of only two original Guimard signs left in Paris), Moulin de la Galette, and all the lovely little side streets that make Montmartre Montmartre. My mom bought a painting (actually pretty nice, we all agree) and Liz FINALLY found the vintage French posters that she wanted (she's been searching through every store in the planet)--very successful and a ton of fun; nothing like Montmart.

At night, we had dinner at L'Os a Moelle, a bistro run by one of the Fantastic Four (that is my nickname for them--Yves Camdeborde, Thierry Faucher, Thierry Burlot and the guy at Le Troquet whose name I forget--im pathetic) who trained under Christian Constant at the Crillon back in the day. Anyway, the deal is you get a six-course menu with limited choices--a fun way to explore. If I don't say so myself (pat on the back), I did a nice job translating the menu for my family and conversing with the waiter (I now can pretty much translate every odd item, from fennel to monkfish to venison to red mullet and so forth). I unfortunately didn't take pictures, but the meal consisted of a very delicious creme de cauliflour soup with chives and pieces of auvergne ham, a piece of pan-seared foie gras served over a salad of cepes (perfect now, tail-end of the season) and marinated beets, pan-roasted monkfish served with a puree of squash and small pieces of chorizo, the most spectacular freshly hunted (literally) venison, served very rare over a mix of cepes (porcini mushrooms), onions and fennel, a lovely brebis (sheepsmilk cheese) and roasted pineapple with a pineapple sorbet. Great meal, no pictures--my apologies. 38 euros for 6 courses--can't get that in America.

Sunday was the traditional Gregg-in-Paris Sunday. A lazy day (not quite) starting with a trip to rue Poncelet to admire the beautiful selection of produce, the cheeses at Alleosse, the incredible sausage sandwich at Le Stubli, the best baguette in Paris at L'Atelier Bourget (my find, not quite near rue Poncelet; always piping hot and delicious, no matter what time of day, 8AM or 8PM), and the other goods on the block. I showed my family my apartment--they were winded after the six flights, heh (Liz and I have gotten used to the stairs). We checked out the Arc de Triomphe, bought some museum tickets and a memory card for the camera at FNAC, had some lunch and macarons at the charming Versailles-like Laduree and then headed down to Ile-de-la-Cite to check out Notre Dame.

Dinner tonight was at Le 404, a very cool and hiply dark Moroccan in the Beaubourg area of Paris. No pictures again (sorry, but the place is too cool for pics heh--i love how i laugh at myself even on my own blog), but the food was very yummy. Started with small puff pastries filled with wild mushrooms and shrimp; moved on to mains of an authentic pastilla with wild pigeon (the best), a lamb tagine with roasted prunes and dried raisins, a duck tagine with roasted apples and cinnamon, and a lamb 3-ways couscous (merguez, brochettes and off-the-bone). Finished off with some deliciously sweet mint tea (yum) and some Moroccan pastries. Gotta get myself to Marrakesh and Casablanca one of these days.

The rest of the week there is much in store, including a little 2-day jaunt over to Bruges. Seeya in a few.

Le Beaujolais Nouveau est arrivé!

I'm not really a fan of the stuff, not my thing. Nevertheless, I will get out there and sample the new vintage of the DuBoeuf stuff (junk) from the Beaujolais and let you know how it is from the mother country. You can get all over the place and there are tons of huge signs and chalkboards (not unlike this one) advertising its arrival. Every year, the third Thursday of November welcomes the newest vintage from the Beaujolais region. It's celebrated with great fanfare and has adopted the catchy phrase "le Beaujolais Nouveau est arrive" (clearly you can translate that yourself). Tons of people going out around the city to taste it, and, in the French tradition, critique and discuss it. It promises to be a good time and an experience unique to Paris. I gotta get out of here--gon ta taste me some beaujolais nouveau.

Like a kid in a (Pierre Gagnaire's) candy shop...

So today I had made lunch plans to go to a Carte Blanche, a place that was just well reviewed by someone whose recommendations haven't failed (John Talbott on eGullet) as of yet. Yet I came across an article for the reopening of Gaya, the old-seafood standby recently purchased and revitalized by the most revolutionary and incredible of chefs, Pierre Gagnaire. Let's face it: I spend a good amount of money on food, but I'm not about to spend $500 just to go to Pierre Gagnaire. So I figured I'd have the next best thing and check out the very intriguing Gaya.

Walking past the suckers who just paid more than I would ever for a bottle of water or a croissant at Cafe de Flore and Les Deux Magots, we arrived at the restaurant to our already-set table (we just called 45 minutes before ago), a nice touch (it felt like it was especially waiting for us haha). Just a quick note. Le Fooding, the food organization/supporter of all things gastronomy and innovative, put out its annual supplement on Paris reviews this morning. It was more than anything else a pat on the back reading it, as I realized I've already been to over half of the restaurants in their trop bon (too good) section. What can I say, I pick well :) More importantly though, Gaya was prominently featured in that section, and to be sure, it did not disappoint.

Out came three amuse bouches (i apologize ahead of time for terrible pictures and descriptions, but it wasn't easy taking pictures in here): a sliver of raw salmon served on a skewer with a very light eel-flavored sauce (yummy), a large soup spoon with foie gras, hazel nut and some type of whitefish (unusual, not much flavor, but nice mix of textures) and dark wheat flatbreads with a hint of goat cheese served with an oyster mousse. Welcome to Gaya.

I think it is important to remark that in France, the amuse-bouche is so much more integral, so much more common. Even small restaurants where you might choose a menu at 15 euros offer some type of amuse-bouche outside of their bread. Yet it is important to note that even with a glass of wine, the tab at Gaya only came to 35 euros per person (better than 350 at Pierre Gagnaire). I must also say that the service was great, particularly from one eager waiter who was very nice to this American kid.

Rather than order an entree, I decided to order three small appetizers (which didn't end up being small--I was stuffed); I always have a hard time deciding. I saw some very nice oysters at the table next to me when I sat down, so I ordered a few. Trois huitres servies en coquilles; citron, seigle, cuir de veau grille (three oysters served in their shells, accompanied by lemon, pain seigle, ) were fantastic and were very unusually complimented by grilled veal (kidneys, i think) which were to be eaten like a sandwich on the toasts (upper-middle, left). Washed down by a nice white 2004 Clos Marie from the Languedoc, this wasn't like most other oyster experiences--A+ for originality heh, and it wasn't too shabby either.

I started with poulpes et moules de Bochot en escabeche, a creamy, fish-infused soup served with marinated mussels and octopus on the side (the two were to be integrated). The quality and taste of the octopus and mussels were great, but the soup was bit too heavy for my liking. Not a problem though, as it still gave the fish a great flavor (I just only ended up eating part of the broth).

The highlight of the meal came when I ordered Gagnaire's version of the croque monsieur. Of course, again, it resembled a croque monsieur in principal, but that's where it ends. Sandwiched between slices of very tasty black bread (i don't know what they used--food coloring?) were a myriad of grilled vegetables (eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes, peppers), goat cheese, and chicken, accompanied by a green salad and an egg concoction that was infused with grey shrimp. Very bizarre, yet the combination somehow worked and was very tasty.

After we asked for the check, they brought out some unusually-shaped macarons (with extra merengue) with very cold fillings--mix of textures and again, good.


The lunch was very yummy, but I don't think I'll be back. The bold and innovative preparations and combinations were more pleasing to the eyes than the palette. Gagnaire loves to play with the eyes and the mind just as much as with the taste buds. In the end, it was a good meal, but there are too many other places to try...

Tomorrow my parents were coming, so expect at least 10 more restaurant reports in 10 days. I'm going to be the fattest kid in Paris.

From Godard to Truffaut

I recently watched Truffaut's Les Quatre Cents Coups (The 400 Blows) and realized that the movie title is translated horribly. While "coups" does literally mean punches, "les 400 coups" is a French expression that basically is the equivalent of "sowing your wild oats" or doing crazy things while you're young (which, if you've seen the movie, makes much more sense). The movie is good, but the later films in the same series, (The Adventures of Antoine Doinel) like Baisers Voles, are much better. The thing that striked me most about this film was the incredible acting by its star--the boy who plays Antoine. Surprisingly though, his acting deteriorates (or at least, he isn't given the same amount and type of dialogue and opportunities to shine) as the series progresses. Nevertheless, the series is a great and entertaining look at youthful antics (les 400 coups, so to speak), romance, the transition from boyhood to manhood and a number of other themes. However, as far as my tastes in the New Wave, I'm a bigger fan of Godard. Godard's films are just far more complex, and in my opinion, more interesting and thought-provoking. Nevertheless, Truffaut's films are far more approachable and more easily-consumed by the larger movie-going public. More than anything else though, you have to give it up for this kid behind the fence--that is one hell of an acting job for a teenager, even for an adult.

Chez Roland Durand, en Francais

I decided that I'm going to post in French today (without accents, too much trouble to have to insert the characters) -- if you can't speak French, get yourself a dictionary or someone that can. However, I did write the names of what I ate in both French and English.


Aujourd'hui, j'avais l'occasion de diner chez Roland Durand, le chef celebre du restaurant le Passiflore pres de Trocadero. L'histoire de la cariere de Durand est tres accompli et rempli avec nombreuses accolades. A la point la plus haute de sa cariere, Durand etait le chef-directeur du Pre Catalan, le restaurant celebre ou Durand etait responsable pour gagner le deuxieme etoile du Guide Michelin. Cependant, il est devenu tres fascinant avec les epices et le cuisine de l'Asie; il voyagait beaucoup a travers le continent et a adapte beaucoup de techniques et de styles. Fatigue avec le monde du haute cuisine et le classicisme, il a quitte son poste au Pre Catalan et a cree son propre restaurant, le Passiflore. Recemment, le Passiflore a gagne son premier etoile du Guide Michelin--pourtant, si vous demandez mon avis, je crois que les inspecteurs du Michelin sont fous (qui est clairement souvent le cas).

C'etait interessant de manger au restaurant le lundi, parce que le chef (Durand) a decide d'etre le serveur de la salle tous les lundis. C'etait amusant de parler et d'etre servi par une grand chef comme Durand. Neanmoins, malgre le fait qu'il etait bien sur amiable, je l'ai trouve un peu froid. Par ailleurs, j'etais premierement la pour la nourriture et pas pour l'hospitalite (bien qu'un peu de hospitalite ne blesse personne).

Le repas a commence avec un petit amuse-geule--un gaspacho piquante de betterave avec shiso (A spicy beetroot gazpacho with a hint of shiso). Cette melange a ete tres interessant et unique, clairement inspire par le cuisine de l'Asie. Servi avec le pain seigle de Poujauran (un des meilleurs boulangeries de Paris), c'etait un bon debut du dejeuner qui a mouille mon appetit pour le reste du repas.

Apres l'amuse-bouche, mon selection d'entree est venu--une royale de cepes baignee d'un cappucino de homard (A royale of cepes/porcini mushrooms in a foamed lobster broth) . Les flaveurs de cette plat etait trop lourdes pour mes gouts--c'etait quelque chose qui a ete extremement riche qui m'a rendu entirement plein...mais il a reste deux plats de plus!

Pour le plat, j'ai choisi une interessant selection qui etait encore influence par le cuisine Asiatique. Un curry de sanglier au tamarin, riz noir et legumes oublies (Wild boar and tamarind curry with black rice and rare Asian vegetables). Les flaveurs et les gouts de cette plat etait tres complexes et merveilleuses. Le sanglier a ete tres parfume et delicieux et a ete parfaitement accentue par le tamarin. Quand on l'a mis avec les legumes oublies (si oublies que je ne connais pas leurs noms), ceci etait magnifique. Ce plat a ete merveilleuxment complemente par une verre de 2003 Crozes-Hermitage. L'image que j'ai pris n'est malheureusement pas le meilleur.

Finalement, malgre le fait que j'ai deja bien mange, j'avais le dessert. Au lieu de choisir un dessert un peu plus complexe (un clafoutis au muscat), j'ai choisi un gateau chaud au chocolat grand cru, sorbet au cacao (a hot chocolate cake made with "grand cru" (premium) chocolate accompanied by a deep cocoa sorbet). J'aime bien le chocolat et aussi les gateaux chauds qui fond quand on les mange. Ceci n'etait pas une exception, et le chocolat etait incroyablement riche. Bien que je n'avais pas faim, j'ai mange chaque bouchee--delicieux.


Cependant, quelque chose m'a ennuye de ce restaurant. Je suis toujours et encore plein meme trois heures apres j'ai quitte le restaurant. Vraiment, j'ai seulement apprecie les deux derniers plats (bien que l'amuse geule etait bien). Neanmoins, mon repas au restaurant Chamarre etait tres agreable et donc, j'avais d'hautes esperances pour ce repas qui n'ont pas ete remplis. Je recommenderais le Passiflore, mais pas comme un de mes premiers choix.

J'espere que tout le monde a compris cette poste--merci bien de l'avoir lu et a la prochaine (en anglais...probablement)

Just another Saturday...

...in Paris.

Off we went to rue Mouffetard, one of the most touristy (yet still great) market streets in Paris. Despite the plethora of tourists that frequent this street, there weren't that many out when we went by early this afternoon. We had a great time--had a delicious Lebanese sandwich on a really interesting toasted sesame bread, a few little Lebanese pastries (pistachio cornet with nuts and almond paste, yum) and started off the day nicely.

Moving along, we went to the Louvre to get our new and updated Louvre cards. They issued us temporary cards last time, so we went today to collect the real thing. Outside of the name that no one can spell my name in France (neither the French Embassy in the US who had to cancel my visa and print a new one, nor the people at the Louvre), they're pretty cool and pretty yellow.

There is something about the enormity of the Louvre that is just so overwhelming to the point that I don't even want to go in. It really is just not meant for leisure, but the type of people who will go to a museum 100 times a year (and still never see the same thing). Outside of that, I will be back next week when my parents arrive (fun times), so Liz and I trotted off to the Musee d'Orsay instead.

On our way over, we walked along the Seine and became very sentimental, proclaiming how incredibly fortunate and happy we are to be able to spend such time in Paris (particularly as young, worryless, relatively financially free students). Liz was hoping to buy some of those old-fashioned French posters (like the Moulin Rouge ones, but not quite) that are so expensive in the US, but cost only a euro or two (literally) here. She picked up a few, but is hoping to get some more. I was about to shoot myself by the 45th minute of standing out there choosing pictures...

We're pros now, making this the third time that we've been to the Orsay (she'll soon be there a fourth time). We just went to check out several post-impressionists--Seurat, Signac, Cross and Luce--one of which she has to present for a class. Seurat's Cirque as well as several of Cross' works (which I've never seen) were quite breathtaking and amazing to see. Still, my favorite part of the museum is their incredible collection of Van Gogh's, most notably his bedroom at Arles and self-portraits.

We left the Musee D'Orsay for that other artistic temple (the art of food), le Grande Epicerie. While I can't stand looking for posters for more than a few minutes, I truly believe I can spend about a year straight just sitting at the most incredible of food stores in the planet. Yes, Harrods has its food halls and Kafhaus des Westens in Berlin (really awesome food section) has its own gourmet mecca, but Le Bon Marche's Grande Epicerie is just beyond words. Today alone while shopping, we sampled a brand of Iberico ham (acorn-fed, banned in the US, incredible, $200/kilo), tasted a deliciously aged (24 months) comte fruite, sampled the organic prosciutto of a small producer (i promise you, the most flavorful and incredible prosciutto ever--I have it every time I am there, the guy who cuts the samples and I are buds), and walked past the myriad of producers (a vintner offering her new yield from her haut-medoc vineyard, Lavazza sampling its newest espresso bean at a makeshift espresso bar, Kaspia offering samples of several types of its caviars, and a greek traiteur that is down-the-block offering some of its goods for "gouter"). We came out with some things for our taco project tomorrow night--very ambitious I might add. I'm trying to mimic the tacos from the deliciously authentic taqueria in South Philly that I love. A little lime, a little green tabasco, some finely chopped onions, a bit of manchengo, some marinated chicken, diced tomatoes and cilantro, and a perfectly heated tortilla--yum. Some Coronas with Lime and Negra Modelo and bam, we're in Mexico.

Tonight we went to the movies (an entire block from Liz's apartment) and saw Elizabethtown, a Cameron Crowe movie with Kirsten Dunst, Susan Sarandon, Alec Baldwin and Orlando Bloom that was a really cool movie and gave us the idea to take a road trip over senior year spring break, when we have nothing doing, nothing hanging over our heads.

Tomorrow is Sunday, when I realize I have to get to the myriad of final papers that need to be written. I actually have more pages to write for this semester in Paris than I've ever written at Penn, not to mention the fact that the papers all are to be written in French! Nevertheless, it's the price you pay for days like this and every other.

Tapas and Roller Blades

This weekend has been the first real weekend where we've had a chance to do some things in Paris for a few weeks. We decided to relax yesterday--take care of some laundry and grocery shopping--and enjoy some tapas and sangria at night. We headed out to Caves Saint Gilles right near the Musee Picasso in the Marais last night and had what was arguably the most amazing grilled squid of our lives. Paired with some really fruity sangria, grilled shrimp, spanish rice and a yummy plate of spanish charcuterie, we were set. Actually, the reason we got the plate was mainly to taste the Bellota-Bellota Jamon Iberico--the acorn-fed ham that is illegal in the US (spanish pig growers apparently never met US standards, though one was recently granted access and is planning on making its first shipments of the ham in 2007). The flavoring of the ham is incredible although its price (commanding about 65 dollars a pound) is a bit out of whack. There is actually a restaurant in Paris called Bellota-Bellota which serves multiple types of acorn-fed ham; maybe i'll make it there one day. At any rate, the sangria and tapas were a ton of fun, and Liz and I can't stop saying (from the moment we stepped foot in Madrid this summer) that the Spanish people have such an incredible warmth. Here we are in the metro station after dinner (me with my gross haircut).

On our way home last night, we passed by the Friday night PariRoller roller bladers. Every Friday night from 10pm to 1am, with a police escort, hundreds (often thousands) of roller bladers skate around Paris, covering a new route every week. Although I wanted to do this in the beginning, these people just go way too fast that I would kill myself. I couldn't really snap any great pics, but it was a lot of fun to see. See, this just goes to show you that the riots aren't hurting Paris much--the rollerbladers can still get a police escort heh.

Off to the movies...

The Best Bread In the World

Today is truly a day of bests. Best lunch, worst haircut, best bread. Poilane is world-famous--you can buy their loaves on the web and have them shipped to your door in no time (for a crazy-ass fee of course). While you suckers have to go on the web and open your packaged Poilane from a UPS box, I my friends can walk over to their store on rue du Cherche-Midi and buy myself a hot, fresh-out-of-the-oven miche. Today, I did just that. I haven't been to Poilane for a few weeks now (it's so sad), so I decided I'd go all the way and buy an entire loaf today. While you might pay something like $20 on the web after shipping, I paid the measly sum of 3.5 euros. Read 'em and weep. If you give me $15, I'll bring you back a fresh miche in January.

The Best Lunch Ever

So.

Today I had the most outrageous lunch I've had to date in France. Not only because the food was both incredibly creative and quite delicious, but also because I would've paid twice the price for the same lunch (if not three times the price). 28 euros for three courses (which of course turns into five courses) at Le Chamarre, a Michelin-starred French-Mauritian restaurant in the very-American 7th Arrondissement (near the Eiffel Tower) definitely on its way to a second star (I am of course not the authority on that, but the opinion is shared by many important people in the community). If you're in Paris and you want a delicious lunch deserving of a higher price tag than it has, you know where to go.

The deal at Le Chamarre is that with the 28 euro menu, you're given no choices (although you are alerted as to what the dishes are before hand) and aren't allowed to make any substitutions. Not a problem for me, but certainly a problem for the large bulk of diners in the restaurant (who aren't as cheap as me I guess). After checking out the ridiculous wine list (1964 Petrus, 1979 Haut Brion, 1986 Yquem, and so on--although there were a few lower priced options) and realizing that I'm not a financial titan, I ordered a very respectable glass of 1999 Chateau Le Garicq that went really nicely with the heavy menu I was about to enjoy.

The first amuse came out--three light toasts with something on them. To be honest, this was placed on my table without the name of the dish being announced, so I have no idea how to describe them. They were all tasty--very nice start to a wonderful meal, particularly the one with the mousse on the top--but not worthy of saying anymore than I've already said.

The second amuse was un royal ourcine dans un huile de noix--I probably butchered the name of the dish that was said to me, but it was a sea-urchin mousse and nut oil (a relatively thick and flavorful oil) mousse--so creamy, so delicious, made me want the next course so badly. This was like a thick cream, almost dessert-like, but with an incredibly unusual flavoring.

The first course was un terrine de lapin aux aubergines confites et foie gras, condiments aux coloquintes--This time I got the name right because I copied it off the menu. A delicious terrine of rabbit, eggplant confit and foie gras with something on the side that seemed minor but ended up adding great flavor (good luck with translating the word "coloquintes"). This was the best terrine I've had in Paris hands-down--again, the flavors were so strong and the rabbit was tender yet meaty, yum.

What was nice was at this point, there were two women next to me (probably in their 50s) who were totally eyeing me the whole time (haha, gross, I know, but I'm just full of myself) while enjoying their meals. Anyway, without paying attention to what I was doing, I had unfortunately finished my glass by this time in the meal. Rather than order another one (which I probably wouldn't have done, though I would've liked to), these women, who had clearly had more of their bottle than they could handle, offered me a glass of what they were drinking. What were they drinking? 1912 Cheval Blanc, of course. No, no, I kid. However, they were having a bottle of 1999 Beaucastel (Chateauneuf-du-Pape). At about 170 euros a bottle on the restaurant's menu, I figure a glass the size they poured me is about equal to all that I paid for my entire meal. Not to mention that the wine was tremendous, especially paired with the next course.

The entree was un cochon de lait roti, pique aux feuilles de 4 epices, poitrine en Rougail, oignons blancs des Cevennes--roast suckling pig cooked in the leaves of four spices with white onions from Cevennes. This was the single best thing I've eaten in Paris. It was just so incredible. The meat was so tender, the skin so crisp. Yet even more amazing were the flavors in the purees and accompaniments underneath the meat--flavors that were just so bold and so complementing. I want to go back and eat this dish every day for the rest of my time in Paris.

Finally, I finished with roasted figs with fig ice cream--i don't really care enough for figs (it's a French obsession), but I did prefer this dish to the fig dishes I've had at both Le Troquet and La Braisiere. I don't have a picture of it, because at this point in the meal, I was so enamored by my food that I completely forgot about my camera.

All in all, this was another tremendous meal--probably the best meal I've had to date in Paris (although Le Troquet is still up there). Yummmmmmmmm.

Don't get your haircut in Paris...

...unless you want to look like Eurotrash.

I got the worst haircut of my life today; a place where I had relative success the last time.

I have to go cry now.

Even Superman had unexciting days...

Nothing major doing these past two days. Been tired and lazy and had a lot of class, so I haven't gotten to do much. Although I did walk around the Montparnasse area south of Denfert Rochereau (ya, like you know what I'm talking about heh) yesterday for about 90 minutes, just wandering trying to see if I'd find something interesting (I didn't--boooooooring). Liz and I had some Indian food last night--yummy lamb vindaloo and chicken tikka (or should i say, l'agneau vindaloo et le poulet tikka). That was about the most eventful thing I've done between today and yesterday (thrilling days). Not every day can be thrilling, what more is there to say. I should however remark that I think I did pretty well on my midterm exam that I took Tuesday in Paris Walks; it ended up being on the social repercussions of the Haussmanisation of Paris (google people, google). Tomorrow, things are getting spiced up a bit with a lunch visit to Le Chamarre and a trip over to L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon to see if having dinner there will be worth the dent in the pocket. I'm really excited for Le Chamarre--a Michelin-starred restaurant with a great lunch deal run by two former proteges of Alain Passard at l'Arpege. I of course will be letting you all know what the deal is.

This weekend I will be going to hang out in the Canal St. Martin district, a pretty artsy district with (of course) plenty of canals, funky stores and cafes. Add to that dinner at Cap St. Gilles, a very lively Spanish restaurant in the 3rd, a trip to the rue Mouffetard and rue du Puteau markets, and a return to the Louvre. Gotta counter those empty days.

I must also note that it is pretty crazy that some people I know have already finished their classes (in Australia, Argentina, Spain and elsewhere). I still have about 5 weeks of classes/finals left, plus two weeks of nothing to enjoy Paris without any obligations or things hanging over my head. After the new year, it will be time to say goodbye to Paris :(

Which is why I have to get so many meals in of course!

My workload is so difficult...

or not. I wrote an e-mail to a professor of mine who teaches a class on French cinema asking what the final paper would be on exactly. He basically told me to write about whatever I want, and that is just what I will do.

I would just like to explain this guy to you. He is the most chill professor/teacher I have ever encountered in my life. He basically shows up to class, all slick in his slim-cut European suit, and babbles for three hours on international cinema while interspersing some clips in between his comments. During a break in the class the other day, he saw a girl in my class smoking. When he asked her "were you smoking?" she became very nervous, as though he would reprimand her. When she softly replied "yes," he then asked her for a cigarette. Only in Paris.

After another class that he teaches, I saw him smoking a cigarette with some of his students. I mean this is just so different--it is almost comical. I'm lovin' the culture shock...

At this moment, 12:17AM on November 7 of the year two-thousand-and-five, I cannot as of yet say that I am within viewing distance of the banlieu boys as I've taken to calling the rioters. I'm waiting until I can see them from my window...then maybe my opinion on all this will change. Until then, vive la revolution--la revolution, c'est la facon francaise!

L o n d o n

Finally getting around to writing about London. I've been putting it off because it is a long thing to write about, but I figure I'll put it up now (although in an abbreviated form) and have it off my mind. London was fantastic, but it felt like being back in America. The city is a modern metropolis that lacks the old-world feel of Paris, Rome--even Besancon! Plus, I am pretty sure that I hate the English accent on women--it's just the opposite of sexy. It suggests a certain refinement on some people, but on others just sounds stupid. It sounds cool on men--particularly the Savile Row, old-money type--but stupid on women. Sexist as that may be, that's how it's going to be--this is my blog kids.

Nevertheless, once you get past the horribly ugly English women (minus Elizabeth Hurley of course), we had an awesome time. We flew into London on easyJet (I can't say enough good things about this airline--great) and got to our hotel. The hotel was great--well-located and very nice! We didn't plan that much for London because we were both very tired and felt that we wanted to see London at a slow pace (plus, we'd both been to the city before). However, a relaxed pace for us is like a normal pace for most people.

So we dropped our stuff, sat around and relaxed for a little, and headed out to Westminster to make sure that Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, 10 Downing Street, Hyde Park, the Houses of Parliament and Buckingham Palace were all still there. They were.

At night, we had a great Indian dinner at Deya, a trendy Indian restaurant in London that apparently gets a 28 for food in Zagat (don't ask me how--it's good, but not nearly deserving of a 28). Very reasonably priced, particularly for London--we got out of there, credit cards in tact. We walked around after dinner to check out London, particularly the Thames, by night.

I must say that Liz and I bought famliy passes for the tube everyday, which cost 3 pounds for both of us (she can pass for 16 haha) and gave us a full day of unlimited travel. By contrast, buying individual tube passes would've been 14 bucks more. London ain't cheap folks. Yet the Jew in me persisted and won, as always.

The next day, we woke up and went to the Tate Modern, one of the finest modern art collections in the world. The museum was curated in an interesting way (in my opinion, others didn't enjoy it), pushed together in some cases by the type of work (a room of Soviet propaganda and another of protests regarding war and particular social situations, for example) and in other cases by individual artists (Warhol had a room, etc.). The museum forced you to look at artists that you would normally overlook, placing (for instance) a Picasso work next to an unknown artist who had been influenced by the particular Picasso. I loved the museum and thought it was great. Ah--we had to walk over the Millenium Bridge to get there, a pedestrian-only bridge that London built for the year 2000 (and saw a delayed opening as it wobbled when people walked over it, ya great).

After the Tate and some lunch at their cafe, we went over to Piccadilly Square and Leicester Square. At Leicester Square, we found a frozen yogurt place--London may be half-way across the world, but it might as well be America. Frozen yogurt in Europe? Bullshit. As connisseurs of the dessert, we found ourselves gorging down a huge frozen yogurt and began to reminisce about life in America. Afterwards, we planted ourselves firmly back in Europe and took some cheesy tourist pics in that oh-so-London phone booth.

After the pics, we went to my favorite place in London, the fabled Savile Row. Mark my words: I will be back to the Row and will get a bespoke suit from Kilgour soon enough (I'm taking donations--cost: about $3,500 USD). The Row is unbelievable--if I were made of money, I'd have a suit tailored by every house and then after deciding which was the best, I'd have found my tailor for life. But I'm not Prince Charles, so I guess I'll stick to the off-the-rack model for now.

Tired as we were from a pretty long day, we went back to the hotel to veg out and have some room service before going out. The room service was better than most of London's restaurant offerings and certainly cheaper. Pizza Hut for $20--it better be imported from America is all I can say. We unfortunately didn't manage to get a reservation at either Gordon Ramsay on Royal Hospital Road or the Fat Duck, so we didn't care to waste any money (better save it for our own city).

After dinner, we went to check out London's theater offerings (which are incredible!). We had unfortunately not been able to get tickets for Billy Elliot (music by Elton John, same director as movie--supposed to be incredible), but managed to score tickets for Guys and Dolls with Ewan McGregor and Jane Krakowski in the lead roles! The show was great and it was fun to see a show in which I had formerly played the two starring roles (I had such promise as a stage actor in elementary school).

The next day we got our Asian on and went down to Bayswater for what is apparently some of London's best dim sum (it was) at Royal China. So, so, so, so good. I wish we had had more people with us so we could've ordered even more food than we did! No worries. We still managed to order some awesome stuff. Chicked and mushroom buns, shrimp and chive dumplings, fresh scallop dumpings, pork and crab meat dumplings, minced pork with ginger dumplings, steamed vegetable dumplings, a sesame dumpling with peanut crumbs for dessert and some tea. I love that dim sum is both so delicious and so cheap--you can stuff yourself for like 10 bucks. We got there pretty early so it wasn't that mobbed yet, but by the time we left, the place was packed.

It was pretty nice out, so we decided to walk through Green Park to Harrods in Knightsbridge. On the way, we stopped out to try out for Scotland Yard, but we unfortunately weren't British enough. I thought Liz's rendition of an I've-got-a-stick-up-my-ass British cop wasn't half-bad.

We checked out Harrod's and saved ourselves the waste of money, though we were at times compelled to buy a few things in the Food Halls. I have to say that Harrod's food section rivals that of La Grande Epicerie in Paris, but the latter will never be taken off its high horse (I love that place--and my parents will be staying 2 blocks away!! Coincidence? What do you think?). Again, we were pretty lazy and decided to hike it back to the hotel for a nap (we're like 20 going on 87) and some room service again. It's crazy when you can save money and enjoy a meal via room service--if room service isn't outrageously overpriced, the hotel must not be doing something right, but I wasn't complaining. After our rest and dinner, we headed out to see Thumbsucker, a new indy film about a screwed up family whose son becomes a wonderkid after he is diagnosed with ADD. The film is obviously about much more and does have both Vince Vaughn (crappy role for him) and Keanu Reeves (best I've ever seen him), but it was pretty lousy--save your money, go see Broken Flowers. Plus, I'm becoming a little bit tired of the Generation Y-is-so-lost-so-let's-smoke-weed genre.

Finally, Monday had come and it was our last day in London. We spent the latter part of our monring and the early part of our afternoon at the National Gallery, a museum so big that you can never feel like you've fully seen its offerings (but I guess that's how it goes, although that's the thing I hate most about museums like the Louvre, the Met and the Nat'l Gallery). They had a really nice assortment of Impressionists, particularly of Van Gogh, whose harsh brush strokes and strong colors I've come to really enjoy. I bought a Picasso book in the museum because a) it was in English and b) I've been meaning to read all about his life since visiting the Picasso Museum in Barcelona (and will soon be visiting the Picasso Museum in Paris with my famiglia).

All in all, an awesome weekend. The perfect mix of relaxing and sightseeing, eating and doing. It was my final major European trip of this abroad experience, although I will be going to Bruges with my family in three weeks and to either Biarritz, Zermatt or Interlaken for some skiing (what a shitty life I live). I hope all is well at home. Hopefully you'll hear from me again soon, unless of course I become a victim of the riots (what an unfunny sarcastic cynic this Gregg is).

Breakfast in America (or the Latin Quarter, whatever)

First of all, I just want to say two unrelated things. Music of the moment is definitely the new Death Cab CD, Plans--it is just as good as their last CD, Transatlanticism, which was amazing. I have been sleeping, eating, breathing every second with an iPod on my ears lately--I can't get enough of the new death cab, in tandem with some bootleg Postal Service songs I found. Secondly, lucky kid that I am, I have CNN as part of my cable TV package, and can thus see the American media reaction to the French rioting (merci France Telecom for giving me the first three months of my four month subscription gratuit--what suckers). Anyway, in comparing the images themselves, they're pretty similar, if not more graphic in the French media, but the American media is much more harsh when it comes to criticizing France (understandably so, to be sure, and rightfully so, in my eyes). As hard as it is to criticize one's self, the French are just terrible at it. That is not to say that CNN is overly-criticizing the French (which they're not--the French have just entirely mismanaged their integration program), but the French just have such a difficult time accepting the fact that they've entirely gone about solving about this issue the wrong way. That is not to say the French people nor the French media are oblivious, as many le Monde op-ed columnists will show you, but it is to say that the problem is not something that is going to go away merely through bolstering security efforts. I don't want to talk about this too much, but it does fascinate me. I have such a sympathy for many of those involved in the riots, particularly in their use of the car as the object of destruction--a symbol of relative wealth (particularly in Europe), progression; an object that represents everything that they don't have. Those in the banlieus have been so mistreated, entirely pushed aside and discriminated against, that this was bound to blow up in the face of the French mainstream.

Just to address anyone's worries, because I've received some IMs today (which make me laugh, but I understand that in America, it is probably hard to understand that life in Paris is unchanged--if i didn't read the news, i wouldn't know anything was going on--the line at Boulangerie Kayser was still as long as it always is today haha) warning me to be careful, nothing has happened near me yet. I understand there were a few attacks in the Western portion of the 17th (basically the very, very edge of Paris and an entirely lousy neighborhood itself) and near Place de la Republique--I doubt it will stretch into Paris, but if it does, you will actually see the police and the national army get much more involved. Let's be serious and brutally and sadly honest--violence in the banlieus is one thing (particularly when it occurs daily, albeit on a much smaller scale), but if it stretches into Paris, the jewel of France, the government's reaction will change. The police have never really had full order in the banlieus, rather their control lies in the hands of their dominant gangs.

Take a deep breath.

Good.

Today, I went to Breakfast in America, an American diner in Paris run by an American expat who missed his pancakes, scrambled eggs, and (apparently) American obesity. To combat his homesickness, he opened B.I.A. in the Latin Quarter right in between Jussieu (University of Paris VII) and the Sorbonne (University of Paris V). Yummmmmmmmmy. The place is great--it's just like the diner from Happy Days, a piece of Americana. I saw a milkshake on the menu and felt obliged to have one--deliciousssssssssssss. I haven't had pancakes and eggs in a diner in what feels like forever, despite the fact that I make a mean omelette at home. I'm glad to say that the food was more than I can finish--a true American restaurant with fat American portions heh. I didn't take pictures of my milkshake, pancakes or eggs, but you can imagine what they look like. If you're curious, they have a web site--www.breakfast-in-america.com (the picture below is an actual picture of the diner). I will definitely be back to B.I.A. in the near future.

A little Montmartre, a little Yves Camdeborde

Werd up kids. Things aren't too bad here in Paris, can't complain. Today was a crazy long day, only worsened by the metro and RER delays as a result of the rioting in the suburbs. Actually, a word on that for a moment. France's ethnic integration problems are voluminous--in some ways, the social situation of French Arabs and Africans is not unlike that of African-Americans prior to civil rights reforms. In large part, by nature of expensive rents, the immigrant populations are forced into the HLMs (habitations à loyer modéré--basically projects/low-income housing) of the outer arrondissements and suburbs of Paris. Anyway, the French word for suburb, banlieu, has taken on somewhat of a negative connotation in the eyes of many Parisians. To some extent, the banlieus are orderless, places where the police lack control (the national army has been brought in on occasion to restore order). Currently, provoked by the deaths of two children who had been hiding in a power plant (and were subsequently electrocuted) to avoid being caught by the police chasing them, the residents of the banlieus are rioting like it's there job. In the past several days, thousands of cars have been lit on fire, countless women have been raped, rival gangs are warring in the streets and numerous police and security forces have been attacked--it's a veritable war-zone, a French Iraq. Just to promote one of my favorite French movies of the last decade, the movie la Haine is a fabulous and emotionally charged look at the suburbs, in all of the frustration and injustice. The controversial movie, released in a France that often chooses to maintain its blindness and not acknowledge its clear racial problems, is the best portraits of the frustration of banlieu youths, a population that largely sees no prospects for the future, no hope for escape or change. Easily one of the most memorable films I've seen in my life--definitely check it out if you have any interest.

However, I live in Paris, and like my Parisian counterparts, I'm blinded by the cigarette smoke and wine.

After class this morning, I headed off to try to get a reservation at Yves Camdeborde's new restaurant, le Comptoir du Relais St. Germain. Camdeborde is a true master and innovator, having been the first (and best) of a group of new French chefs who studied under Christian Constant at the legendary le Crillon and left the haute cuisine life for a smaller, gastro-bistro style of cooking if you will. Anyway, Yves opened La Regalade in the far depths of the 14th arrondissement a few years ago in Paris to great acclaim. His restaurant was regarded as the city's best bistro, hands-down. Well, after spending several years at the helm of La Regalade, Yves left earlier this year to open le Comptoir, an even smaller restaurant just off Blvd. St Germain. Getting a reservation is IMPOSSIBLE (nothing until January), so I figured if I went over to the restaurant, I might be able to negotiate something or find a cancellation. Nothing. They said "stupid American, we told you on the phone that we had nothing" (well, not in those words, but it's what they were thinking haha--I hope you all get my sarcasm?). Nevertheless, they take no reservations at lunch, so if you can't have dinner, might as well have the second best thing. Whereas dinner is a more formal, far more gastronomic experience (6 intense courses plus three or four amuses at 40 euros), lunch is a la carte, although still inspired. I began with a pressé de cepes et foie gras, purée d'artichaut, a delicious paté of porcini mushrooms and foie gras with an artichoke purée--yummy.

Moving along I went for the joue de boeuf braisé au vin avec coquillettes, a hearty, country-esque dish of red-wine braised beef cheeks. The beef cheeks weren't as good as I expected them to be, a little disappointing since I had read good things about beef cheeks. I was longing for a tender and richer version, not unlike that in the beef cheeks ravioli at Babbo or the amazing rendition I ate at the small yet delicious Philadelphia BYOB Marigold Kitchen. It was still good, but not what I was looking for, althought it was at least in part saved by the wine.

Lunch was nice--really loving the Parisian tradition of a big lunch. After lunch, I headed off to meet my Paris Walks' class in front of the Sacre Coeur at Montmartre. I took the metro the famous Abbesses stop--known both for its being tremendously far underground (huge, long walk up) and having one of the two remaining original Guimard "Metropolitan" signs in the city.

While all of the fat and lazy people waited for the elevator, this athletic American walked up the 95,000,000 stairs in the station only to be greatly rewarded. I had forgotten this from when my family visited, but the stairs are filled with some of the most colorful graffiti work around. I took a few pictures, seen below (in the center of the first one is a rendering of the Sacre Coeur)--very cool and nice to keep you alive while you're walking up the never-ending staircase.

Finally out of the station, I decided that if I could walk up 95,000,000 stairs, what was 95,000,000 more? So rather than take the funicular like normal people, I hiked up Montmartre via an uphill walk and stairs. Here is a picture from the top of the stairs, which doesn't look as high as it is (I swear, I'm not lying).

I arrived early enough in Montmartre to snap some shots of the Sacre Coeur, my personal winner for best Cathedral exterior in Paris. The outside of this church is so unique and in contrast with the typical gothic cathedral style. Beautiful and bold, mesmerizingly white, visible from so many parts of the city, the building is beautiful, particularly against the blue sky on a nice day. Speaking of which, any time it begins to get cold or grey, Paris finds its fight and beats away the signs of winter with a clear, warm day.

I met my class and we proceeded to go on our walking tour of the quarter. I'm now a walking book on the history and development of Montmartre, Pigalle and the Quartier Abbesses. Along the way, we checked out innumerable places and churches, most notable the Sac (that's my cool slang in action), la Moulin a la Galette, l'Eglise St Pierre (for my Catholic fans), le Moulin Rouge, Place du Tertre and of course, Pigalle's world-famous Sexodrome (5 floors kids, 5 floors). The walking tours are always great and I always learn so much--I really think my professor spends every second of free time reading about Paris. It's amazing how much knowledge some people soak up.

Very much looking forward to this weekend. Need some time to relax and have fun in Paris; I feel like I've constantly been on the run these past few weeks (Besancon and London). I'll shortly be getting to my London post with some nice pictures. A la prochaine--au revoir mes amis.

Le Pre Verre

After taking a midterm this morning, I decided to reward myself (why not, right?) with lunch at Le Pre Verre, a small wine bar/nouvelle bistro near rue Monge in the 5th (actually, right next to where the old wall of the Latin Quarter once stood). Le Pre Verre is run by Philippe Delacourcelle, a relatively quirky and experimental French chef who draws much of his influence from throughout Asia. The fusion of Delacourcelle's Asian travels and French training make for some great food. Plus, he managed to bring back Chinese child-labor prices, as he offers a two-course lunch with a glass of wine and coffee for 12 euros!

Having no choices is always a good thing, as it allows me to try dishes that I would probably not order on my own. Today that was certainly the case, as I started with the Crême de Poireaux au cumin, a cream-based leek soup with chickpeas and cumin--pretty unusual. Yet the flavors worked together and it was great. It may look kind of disgusting, but it definitely wasn't.

Moving along, I had the Joue de porc à la Badiane, pâtes fraiche--pork cheeks served in a delicious sauce spiced with Badiane (I don't know the English translation), a rare licorice-type spice from China. I had never had pork cheeks before, but they reminded me a lot of beek cheeks--very rich, soft and smooth. Not to mention the house wine they served was actually not that bad (I guess being a wine bar helps), making the meal very yummy and unbeatable at 12 euros.

I'll be back for the expanded and more creative dinner menu when my family comes in 2 weeks! Time really does fly--it's hard to believe that I've been in Europe almost 3 months (and now I have only two months left). I figure that means 60 more restaurants haha. By the time Liz's grandma, my family and her parents have all come and gone, I'll have eaten my way through this city (not as though I haven't already).

La France Profonde

I just got back from London tonight and there is a ton to write. Unfortunately, it is a huge shame, but I'm just not going to get to write as much about Besancon as I'd like to right now. I'm very busy (relative to the abroad work-level) and tired and have a ton to do this week. But enough with that crap...Besancon.

France is just such an incredible country. In the same way that (sadly) New York is not at all representative of America, Paris is not at all representative of France. Although the large bulk of American tourists that make it to Paris never get past the boulevard Peripherique, there is so much to this country that gives it its richness and vitality that most people will never see. Yet the blindness goes past foreign tourists, as many of my Parisian professors laugh at Besancon much in the same way that I would laugh at upstate New York (don't worry, I still laugh at it, hahaha--I revel in my ignorant blindness). I managed to keep an open mind and with 10 other kids from Reid Hall--who I had not really hung out with before but came to really appreciate and have a great time with--I set out for the heart of la France Profonde.

After the short train journey (p.s. I have always loved the TGV; we need such a service in America), we arrived at the Besancon train station where members of our families were awaiting our arrival. It was very much like a limo driver picking me up at the airport (well, kind of), holding my name up on a sign at the gate. The homestay was organized by the Lions Club of Besancon, whose members invited Americans into their homes for an incredible, week-long experience. Anyway, my host mom, qui s'appelle Mireille, met me and we drove off to a small, incredibly quaint suburb of Besancon called Montfaucon. Mireille, a French teacher in a local school, spoke no English, so the car ride (and the rest of the trip) did wonders for my French. Just a short note on my French--not to brag, but it really has either improved 100-fold on this trip, or I just never realized that I really can converse in French on a somewhat-advanced level; I have no problem maintaining real conversations, be they on politics or family life or what have you, in relatively fluid French. Mireille was one of the sweetest and most welcoming women I've ever met--she (and the rest of the family) was a perfect host mother that delivered all that I was looking for. On the brief car ride, we quickly told each other about our families and our home towns. I learned that I was to become the fourth and oldest child of my family.

I got home and met my little 7-year-old sister Taime (the cutest little girl ever--I wanted to steal her and bring her back to Paris) who had made me a handdrawn map of her house to show me where all of the rooms were. I met my brothers Lukas (12) and Jody (15), as well as my father Jean (Ear-Nose-Throat Doctor), the only English-speaker of the group (and I'm being generous in calling him one). We sat down to a dinner native to the region, choucroute with several types of sausage, a good, thick-crusted country loaf and some red wine from Ardois, a wine-making region near Besancon that we would later visit. The family and I spoke about tons of things (we really never had a dull moment and the conversation flowed well, which I always enjoy). What was nice about Besancon was despite the fact that I had to wake up early to get to all my activities, I went to bed a little after we had dinner (although it is important to note that dinner at the table was always a 3-hour affair), around 11:30 or so. Never in my real life do I ever, ever go to bed that early (my bed hasn't seen my body before midnight since middle school or early high school). (in the picture, the girls on the right and left are just friends--Taime is in the middle holding her brother)


There were four students (of the ten total that came to Besancon) living in Montfaucon, and as our families all knew each other (small, small town), we ended up car-pooling each morning and evening to the town. I lived right next door to one, who remarked to me the first day (and put it so perfectly) that it felt like middle school/high school all over again (i mean, come on, i haven't been part of a carpool since the 20th century). As we got to Besancon early every day, we ended up having coffee in a new cafe every morning. Perhaps as a direct result of our being in France with an hour to kill before everyone else showed up, our morning coffee led to pretty deep, occasionally heated (yet always in good fun) conversations. We talked about a ton of issues and I really feel like I got to know a lot of these people pretty well. I really haven't had such great conversations with an interesting and diverse group of people like that in a while.

Our activities daily were great and always well-organized by the Lions Club. On the first day, we took a tour of Besancon. There really is just so much history everywhere you go in Europe that it seems so dime-a-dozen; for example, there were about 500 buildings and staircases (they're big on staircases) in Besancon that date from the 1500s. Besancon was a fortified city built hundreds of years ago and has since served as the capital of the Franche-Comte region. Anyway, after our tour, the city officially welcomed us with a kir made with their own creme de cassis at the Hotel de Ville (Town Hall)--could you imagine a group of 10 French kids coming to New York and enjoying a drink with the mayor at City Hall? It was a great laugh, but also very nice. For the sake of space, I won't go on and on about other days. We visited the Citadel, the fortified part of Besancon, which for the purposes of being financially-viable, has incorporated both a zoo and a Holocaust memorial, among other mismatched entities, into its walls. We went to the Musee des Beaux Arts, some interesting and huge caves, as well as the Arc et Selin (once part of a social experiment to form a utopian, self-sufficient village). The daytrips were always enhanced by the fact that it was a lot of time to hang out with kids I had not hung out with before. Without question, the two most memorable daytrips were to Arbois (the wine region) and our day in Basel, Switzerland.

In Arbois, we visited Henri Maire, the oldest wine-producer in the region. At Henri Maire, we proceeded to do a tasting of some of their whites, jaunes, bruts and "paille," which I would most closely associate with a Sauternes. In all, we tasted about 7 or so wines, but the bottles were left on the table, so we generously helped ourselves to several more rounds. At 10:30 in the morning, it didn't take long to feel the wine, no question enhancing the rest of the day. The paille was great, so I decided to buy a bottle (which I will hopefully save till I get back to school). I'm slowly amassing a collection here, between the paille, a bottle of Arbois that was given to me as a gift, and a nice Chateauneuf-du-Pape that Liz's dad gave to us when we were at Grande Epicerie. After the tasting and a small walking tour of the town, we sat down to a nice country lunch of white wine, escargot and fondue.

Basel is a great small city near the French and German borders that has a wealth of art and German culture. We of course bought great pretzels (a huge one in fact that was meant for 4-5 people), had incredibly delicious sausage sandwiches, and sat down to a beer that we had never heard of (too German of a name) and made sure was not imported to America in a German pub where we garnered looks from the regulars--exactly what we were looking for. The Fondation Beyeler was one of the most incredible collections of contemporary art that I've seen--I don't know whether it was the small, manageable size or the sheer wealth of great artists represented, but the museum was incredible. They had the largest exhibition of Rene Magritte works ever shown in Switzerland, including his famous paintings of the man in a black suit and top hat with the apple over his face, as well as a similar painting with a dove over his face. Basel was a great city, outside of the fact that a stupid woman accidentally charged my credit card 1,550 Swiss Francs for something that cost 15.50 Swiss Francs (no worries, being resolved).

Back home in Besancon, we had a tremendous weekend. I played soccer on Saturday morning with my youngest brother Lukas and my friend Josh from Reid Hall at the local school's soccer field (which is no American soccer field, I should add). It was interesting for Josh and I to be alternating between English with each other and French with Lukas, but it allowed him to pick up a number of things that we said, particularly slang (always tough). When we got home, we sat down to a spread that Mireille had put out, as her sister and her family were coming in for the weekend. That night we had a raclette, which is similar to fondue, except that you put a big machine in the center of the table and put individual slices of cheese on little shovel-like contraptions into the machine, heat them up, and then pour them on potatoes and charcuterie. That was delicious and also really fun--food is always more entertaining when its interactive. That night, Jean and Mireille's brother-in-law decided they wanted to give this American a digestif tour-de-France of sorts, as we went on to taste about 7 of the strongest alcohols I've ever put into my mouth. We all decided that the best one (well they were all disgusting to me) was the mirabelle, which is basically a 75% alcohol conconction not really sold commercially that draws its flavor from the mirabelle, a yellowish plum/grape that isn't grown outside of France (or at least that's what they say). Between tasting everything from Arbois, a ton of Gewurtztraminers from Alsace with my family, and some champagnes that I've never seen, I learned a ton about alcohol, if nothing else.

The next day, we did lunch the French way. We sat down to the most delicious tajine I've ever had: a lamb and prune tajine made by my new pops, Jean. This tajine was so delicious, I am craving it as I write this. I love lamb and I love cooked prunes, and the two together in their own juices (how sexual), it was just perfect. We went on to a pretty serious cheese course, about 9 cheeses in all. A nice goat cheese grown by one of their friends (classic) and I finally got to taste the famed Franche-Comte cheese (very mild, but really good). We had some dessert that my 7-year-old sister (who I still want to eat up) made specially for me. By the way, I neglected to mention that she gave me another picture, one of all the colors written in English with some little sketches. Actually, before I forget to write it, she showed me her bag that has all these things from New York written on it (i.e. 5th Avenue, Empire State Building, etc.). Anyway, she read "I Love NYC" as "I Love Nick," which only made her that much cuter.

The final night with my family was really nice, as we exchanged gifts and had a final meal. They brought out the mini crepe machine and I got to make my own crepes with ham and cheese, nutella and sugar! I had bought a bottle of champagne and a box of swiss chocolates for the fam (boring, I know) and a little present for the daughter, as it was her birthday a few days before. They in turn bought me a (better) bottle of champagne that I hadn't before heard of, but am very excited to try (another for the collection, haha). We exchanged phone numbers, e-mails, etc., though to be honest, I don't know how often we'll talk. They'll be in Paris in mid-December, and we have plans to meet up for dinner then.

I haven't done the week justice in this post, but it was without question one of the most incredible weeks I've spent in Europe. It was the perfect balance of living with a French family--having such interesting conversations and experiences, interacting with completely different (yet so similar of course) people--and hanging out with the kids from Reid Hall. I will never forget this week in Besancon and really believe that if everyone did a homestay like this, the world would be a better place.

Slacking

I've been busy--barely had a second to sit. Anyway, I recently got back from an incredible week living with a family in Besancon, France (mid-eastern France near both the Swiss and German borders). Such an amazing experience, but I have no time to talk now. I've been bombarded with work and things to do and will probably not have to post for another week. Suffice it to say for now though that this was one of the most incredible weeks I've had in France. However, I won't let myself get that behind and will be posting 8,000,000 posts by the end of next week. As for this weekend, I'm off to London bright and early (leaving in 6 hours) for four days (we have a five-day weekend) and have great plans there as well. There will be much to report and many pictures to be posted.

Obsession

My interest in food is becoming much more than a hobby--more like an obsession. It's really terrible in fact; as much as I love it, I hate it. I find myself reading eGullet, the web site that labels itself "the community of culinary arts and letters," all the time. There are posts with endless pictures of courses (not unlike my own, but far longer) and descriptions of meals at great restaurants, but the more interesting part for me are the debates and actual discussion on the state of haute cuisine in the world. Moreover, I'm becoming drawn in by the experimental chefs of the world [Fat Duck (Heston Blumenthal), el Bulli (Ferran Adria), WD-50 (Wylie Dufresne), Pierre Gagnaire and to a lesser extent, L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon--where I will be eating before I leave this town]. I can literally spend hours at a time reading these things--my interest only occasionally fading, my salivating never fading. No matter, if you're going to have a hobby, it might as well be delicious. Anyway, I've replaced some old meals and planned new ones. Fat Duck was booked every day I'm in London for both lunch and dinner and I've decided not to eat at Les Magnolias (the 2-star Michelin in Perreux-sur-Marne outside of Paris). This frees up the necessary cash for lunch at Le Meurice, Jamin and dinner at L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon. I'm obsessed. For my sake, I hope no one reads this.

Plans, Shmlans

Today was a difficult day. Waking up at the early hour of 11AM, I proceeded to stay in bed for an hour and watch a mix of a CNN investigative piece on life among Baghdadians in war-torn Iraq and a French version of Elizabeth Hurley's E! True Hollywood Story. At noon, I woke up, had some cereal with milk and headed out to do my laundry (I needed to do it before my trip, but more on that later). After getting that crap done and running some errands (which, by the way, are more interesting when run in a foreign land with a foreign language), I headed off toward the Louvre.

That was the last I thought of the Louvre for today. It was already late and I was in no mood to sit in the hot metro just to spend an hour at the Louvre, so I got off at Saint-Placide and proceeded to do indulge in my two favorite other hobbies--eating and clothes. To that end, I walked down rue de Vaugirard to Paris' second-best Patisserie (he'll never top Herme, sorry), Sadaharu Aoki. The Japanese import fuses French styles and tastes with those of his native Japan, creating some very interesting combinations. The green tea pastry seen below is wonderful, and while I haven't had the white chocolate pastry seen below (cleverly named the Cote d'Ivoire), I have had its chocolate equivalent (my favorite, the foret noir--Black Forest). Further, Aoki has room to sit (as in two tables, wouldn't exactly say "room," but maybe a spare corner?) and drink a wonderful assortment coffees and green teas--a very nice respite in one's day.

Leaving Aoki, I walked down rue de Vaugirard in the other direction and crossed over to rue du Cherche Midi to check out a consignment shop I had read about. Cherchemineppes (what a terrible name) had some decent things, but nothign that I really wanted (Burberry raincoat, almost-new condition, but too big). However, as I was walking back to the Metro, I came across Tea and Tattered Pages, a bookstore run by an American woman that is popular among American and British expats. I saw that there was a sign that said "Be Back in 30 minutes" on the window, so I sat down at a cafe with a paper and a Perrier--perfectly relaxing. The store ended up sucking and didn't even have a copy of Hemingway's "A Moveable Feast"--that's like Barnes and Noble not having Harry Potter (and not because they sold out of it, but because they never bothered to carry it). Plus, the tea area that had been described as "tranquil" and "beautiful" was extremely cramped and not nice at all.

So I decided to go make a final stop at Le Bon Marche and Le Grand Epicerie. I went through the department store for a little while, tried on a bunch of things I could never afford, and then decided to just go get some food. I love Grande Epicerie--I could seriously live there and never go anywhere else and be perfectly happy. They have a special exhibit this month with Veuve Cliquot and Pucci, who designed a special version of Veuve Cliquot's La Grande Dame, their higher-end champagne. Turns out that they decided to open a concession in Grande Epicerie for the month, of course selling their bottles, but also serving glasses at a bar. You can't get 1996 La Grande Dame by the glass in many places (it's always the brut), particularly at this price, so I decided to go for it. That glass of champagne was perfect, and it was served in a very nice glass--longest stemmed glass I've ever encountered. Nice break in the middle of my favorite store--fun to watch everyone running around, food all over the place--the best. I composed a good dinner for myself--haricots vert with yellow tomatoes and magret de canard, spiced chicken with cumin, pureed lentils with diced red pepper, a nordic baguette and a sharp goat cheese with nuts (sounds expensive, but it was only 10 euros!). Yummmmmm!

Last night we had a nice dinner at Mon Vieil Ami, the Pudlo Guide's "Bistro of the Year." I have to say that this place is O-V-E-R-R-A-T-E-D; it wasn't even good, let along the best. I started with a terrifically boring salad of marinated vegetables (so many different vegetables, yet the taste was so similar throughout--the soupy-marinade ruined it). The other starter on the table was the terrine de Mon Vieil Ami, a very boring and regular terrine. The mains were a little better--the venison, onion and potato conconction was served to us in a huge pot (because two of us ordered it) which gave it a nice country feel--it definitely was tasty, but nothing spectacular. The fish and scallops on the other side of the table looked fine, but again, nothing over-the-top. At least it was on Ile Saint Louis--can you imagine living on a magnificent island in the middle of the world's most magnificent city?--which is where I would no doubt be living if I were a money-is-no-question-Dior-Homme-wearing-Bordeaux-Grand-Premier-Cru-drinking Parisian man.

Tomorrow night, Danny, Marcia, Liz and I are going to Ze Kitchen Gallerie, a place run by a former sous-chef at Guy Savoy. I hope it works out--the guy has been known to have hit-or-miss dishes because he is pretty experimental and unconventional in his foods. It's been a lot of fun having them here--great meals, great wine, visited a lot of places (got off our lazy asses) and just had a nice time. Wednesday I'm off to Besancon, the heart of la France profonde! I'm excited to be living with a French family for an entire week and getting to see what life in the country-side (or at least relative to Paris) is like (hearty meals, I'm sure! haha). We'll be going to Switzerland for a day and checking out all that Besancon and the surrounding area has to offer. I'm pumped and excited, once-in-a-lifetime experience--I'll let you know how it goes.

Livin' like a Tourist...

Today was one of those tourist days. You know the kind--checking the fold-out map provided by (or in my case, stolen from) the hotel, constantly snapping pictures, head permanently shifted upward to look at monuments or ceilings. It isn't necessarily a bad thing, just something you try to avoid. It is certainly stupid, but for me, I try to mask my Americanness. Not because of any sentiments of Anti-Americanism (which I've found to largely not exist--in fact, I've found that Anti-French sentiments in America are far more pervasive), but because to a large extent, American people aren't cool or hip. Celebrities and fashion icons aside (with whom the French are obsessed), the average American gets about a 3 on the hip factor, whereas his French counterpart would receive an 8. When I see American tourists--bad clothes, obnoxiously loud english, cameras slung around their necks--a certain sense of anger, or at least nausea, develops. To a large extent, the French impression of America is that of these people, not of the tremendously cool Americans like myself (haha). Nonetheless, I guess that these people are America--New York is not America.






















Anyway, my rambling aside, I headed off to see two monuments on two opposite ends of the historical and artistic spectrums. Walking past the Conciergerie on Ile de la Cite, my first stop was Saint Chapelle, the beautiful church erected by Louis IX characterized by its incredibly beautiful use of stained glass. After getting in free (moi, pay?--ya right) with my Art History student ID (never even went near an art history class), I walked up the stairs to the large chapel that was used by the king during his reign. Much smaller than I expected, yet nevertheless incredibly gorgeous--the stained glass is by far one of the most remarkable works of any religious site.
















Leaving Saint Chapelle, I walked across the Seine and up Boulevard de Sebastopol towards the Centre Pompidou, the bizarre modernist building constructed in the 1970s which put its pipes, escalators and elevators on the outside (if nothing else, you won't ever get lost looking for it). I passed a gigantic protest against hunger in Africa where a tremendous group of drummers were playing and dancing--reminded me of Stomp a little bit. The pictures don't do it justice--the music just made you want to dance.


The Pompidou was interesting to say the least. The views are remarkable--in the distance to one side is Montmartre with the powerful presence of the Sacre Coeur at its top and to the other, the Eiffel Tower. There is a very cool space outside on the rooftop that has been converted into a cafe with 14 euro cocktails and 23 euro club sandwiches, but I prefer to live in reality. Although I did see a man take the pitcher of tap water from his table, step out over the little zen-like pond, and pour it over his head, then proceed to dry off from his shower with his napkin--lovely. However, one of the better artists I saw wasn't even on display in the museum, but was himself painting a copy of a painting of the Virgin Mary with chalk on the pavement in front of the building.

















I quickly walked through the Dada exhibit, a tremendously comprehensive and innovative exhibit. I checked out many of the I Marcel Duchamp pieces, but the exhibit as a whole really didn't do it for me. I'm not much of a modern art fan to begin with (I know, you're probably wondering why I'm at the Modern Art museum)--my tastes limited to Picasso, Pollack, Delaunay, Dali, Miro and several others--but I had heard such great things about the museum that I was interested. I went to the permanent collection which had a lot less paintings than I had hoped for, choosing instead to take the ultra-modern route of unusual displays (TV screens, words on walls, etc.) and a lot of emptiness. Nevertheless, they did have a few things that caught my eye, and I did appreciate the organization of the museum (every room with its own one-word theme). In the end, I'm glad I went because had I not, I would've always wondered how it would've been--but will I be back, negative ghost rider.

Anyway, abiding by the cardinal rule, I had to check some food places out. So I headed over to Galleries Lafayette, the Herald Square (34th Street) Macys of Paris. Galleries Lafayette sucks to a large extent--very lousy department store and very cheesy in their vendor displays outside (they sell toy cars and $10 dollar ties in plastic bags--come to think of it, it's like the other side of 34th Street). I was interested in seeing Lafayette Gourmet, which I knew (or at least thought I did) would be something like the Grande Epicerie @ Le Bon Marche.

Was I wrong. Outside of the fact that the food area was so tiny, there was very little of note other than what was an amazing Indian prepared foods display, basically offering the menu of an entire Indian restaurant by weight. I headed out with a few things (rouleaux d'aubergines, caprese salad) and went to Dalloyau, another epicerie/boulangerie/fromagerie/charcuterie-type place like Lenotre. This was a day of food disappointments, as this store both had nothing and charged everything. A 4 euro croissant? Is it made of gold?

I came home, picked up some chicken tikka (or as the French say, poulet tikka), naan and chappati and had a dinner from the two I's (India and Italy, of course). I can't believe that I only got to my first museum after six-weeks of being here. Kind of disgraceful, but understandable considering that I went to the Prado in Madrid, the Peggy Guggenheim in Venice, the Picasso Museum in Barcelona and about 4,000 palaces and churches in a space of two weeks. Plenty of time for the rest...

Back to Penn

So I have to pre-register for next semester at Penn by the end of October and they just recently put up the classes. I think I'm going to take Corporate Finance, Contemporary African Politics and Urban Politics in the US for sure. For my fourth and final class, it is between "Contemporary Politics: Welfare State," "Aid, Trade & Developing Nations," and "Religion and US Public Policy." Of those three, I don't know if I have a preference. None of them are absolutely thrilling, but they all are nonetheless interesting and slide into my schedule well (I'll have class on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday only, with just about 4 hours each day--very nice, four day weekends, etc.). Anyone have a preference of the three? I think at this point, I'll have to wait and see what the sylabi are (I'll manage to find them during the first week of school and that will make my decision I'm guessing).

Things are lovely in Paris--beautiful weather, beautiful people, beautiful food (of course), beautiful places, beautiful city, beautiful life. I am leaving on Wednesday for a weeklong homestay with a French family in Besancon. I'm really looking forward to a week of good sights (Besancon is apparently a gorgeous, walled city with a fantastic art museum, not to mention the fact that we spend a day in Switzerland) and of course good, long, traditional French meals. I will have much to report and many pictures when I return.

The Rain is Gone

After a week of rain, Paris has regained its beautiful weather. The week has been spectacular--uncharacteristically warm, sunny and perfect. It was the perfect opportunity for me to have lunch outside in Place du Marche Saint Honore of course. So when my first choice (Angl'Opera) proved to be far more expensive than I had anticipated (and the menu looked so crazy), I ended up going to Point Bar, another place on my list to try in the same square. The square is right near the Bourse, the Parisian stock exchange that is magically open only until 2pm everyday (of course so Tom Wolfe's Masters of the Universe like myself can enjoy their lunch). The brokers didn't quite understand me taking pictures of the courses, but what can you do. The Point Bar is a nice little modern bistro that serves up good food with a little nouveau spin. They have a good amount of outdoor seating right on the square (and don't charge you 8x the price for it like many cafes) and a decent prix fixe. They brought me an amuse bouche, some type of bread-like creation (crusty yet chewy, soft and with an interesting flavor) whose name I can't recall filled with crushed olives and drizzled with olive oil--pretty tasty. Also included in the prix fixe was a complimentary glass of house red--a nice touch, as it isn't something I would've really ordered at lunch myself. Moving on, I had a delicious starter of a terrine of yellow and porcini mushroom and mixed peppers with a pasta-like exterior served with some greens in a vinaigrette. Paris really has tremendous mushrooms (and tremendous preparations for them); this dish was wonderful. Then came my main, a volaille in a light sauce with basmati rice. The meat was very tender and flavorful--not something I would've ordered myself, but a fine cap to a nice lunch nonetheless. After leaving Point Bar, I still had some time before I met my landlord for our weekly language exchange. I wandered down Avenue de l'Opera towards the Tuileries and walked down Rue de Rivoli for a while. I'm still very split on this street. You can't help but appreciate the beauty of the overhanging buildings and the Tuileries across the street, but you can't help but hate that 75% of the stores sell nothing but postcards and Paris t-shirts, and that the restaurants are disgusting and overpriced, yet overcrowded. Nevertheless, it's a great street with some redeeming addresses. Venturing past Hotel Meurice (if anyone wants to take me to eat there, I won't stop you) and Angelina (I can buy my own hot chocolate, even at 12 euros or whatever it costs), I stopped at WH Smith, the English-language bookstore, and made the obligatory purchase of the British and American GQs, as well as sat down to read the New York Times and TimeOut London for a little while. It is interesting to see that so many French people go to WH Smith and make an effort to read English books; as you would expect, there are a ton of expats and tourists, but a very substantial amount of Parisians as well--kudos to them. I've gotten over looking like a tourist and now snap my camera more than the Asian tourists in Times Square. I snapped a cool picture of the Metro (above) with one of the vintage signs (Louvre-Rivoli station) and a few others, of course at least one of a church because you can't walk even 3 feet without stumbling across one. The weather is lovely, the food is lovely--even the waiters are becoming more lovely...or maybe I'm just becoming less American and more French? haha

Jealous?

Walk about 10 feet down the block from my house, look to your left, and BOOM!

Yup, that's my view...

Frenglish

No one ever said that the French speak English well--only that they speak English at all. Le bar a huitres is a bistro near my school (although there are several locations) that I pass every day. They have a huge display of innumerable types of oysters and other crustaceans in front of the restaurant (and someone is always preparing gigantic raw bar towers) that is always fun to pass when I go to school.

Today I passed the restaurant on my way home and noticed their "Deap Sea Menu." I don't know what the deap sea is; I should probably ask them. Nevertheless, as the French menu of the same name is called "Menu Haut Mer," I'm pretty sure I know what they mean.

I should offer them my services as a spell-checker/editor of sorts...

The Fat Duck

More than any other meal, there are two meals I want while in Europe. I would love to have dinner with the culinary scientists Pierre Gagnaire and Heston Blumenthal. Gagnaire's namesake restaurant in Paris is arguably one of the best in the world, but surprisingly, the restaurant I want to eat at most has both a horrible name and isn't even in France, but in the UK, a country definitely not known for its food.

Blumenthal's The Fat Duck is one of the most unusual and bizarre restaurants around. The menus read more like science experiments than restaurant offerings, but in part, it is because they are. In just under 10 years, Blumenthal has both acquired three Michelin stars (one of only a handful of British restaurants to do so), was named Michelin Restaurant of the Year and has been published in scientific journals for his work on the molecular properties of food and their relation to the taste and composition of cuisine (pretty crazy if you ask me). In fact, The Fat Duck was named "The Best Restaurant in the World" in some mammoth report by Gourmet Magazine. Not too shabby.

Listen to this tasting menu...first come five amuse-bouches to bring you into Blumenthal's world of crazy cuisine (like a Wonka in the kitchen of sorts)--Nitro Green Tea and Lime Mousse; Orange and Beetroot Jelly; Oyster, Passion Fruit Jelly, Horseradish Cream and Lavender; Pommery Grain Mustard Ice Cream and Red Cabbage Gazpacho; Jelly of Quail, Langoustine Cream and Parfait of Foie Gras. Wow...but that is only the beginning of this meal, which turns out to be something like 19 different courses by the end.

The courses... Snail Porridge with Jabugo Ham (acorn-fed I believe) and shaved fennel; Roast Foie Gras with Almond Fluid Gel, Cherry and Chamomile; Sardine on Toast Sorbet with a Ballotine of Mackerel 'Invertebrate' and Marinated Daikon; Poached Breast of Anjou Pigeon Pancetta--Pastilla of its leg, pistachio, cocoa and four spices.

Then some intermezzos: White Chocolate and Caviar, Mrs. Marshall's Margaret Cornet, Pine Sherbert Fountain.

Moving along, a Mango and Douglas Fir (yes that's a tree) Puree served with a bavarois of Lychee and Mango and a Blackcurrant sorbet.

Some more intermezzos: Carrot and Orange Tuile, a Bavarois of Basil and a Beetroot Jelly

Finally a dessert: Smoked Bacon and Egg Ice Cream served with pain perdu and tea jelly (this is basically breakfast served for dessert!) and some chocolates: Leather, Oak and Tobacco chocolates and a Praline Rose Tartlet.

Wow, if you're still here, you either love food like me or you're intrigued or grossed out by this menu. Anyway, I am hoping to go to eat here when I go to London, but I could use a little financial support. The tasting menu isn't exactly what you would call cheap...but it is worth every penny in my eyes. If you want to help me out, comment on here haha. I promise to give you pictures and a salivating mouth!

Photo Journal--Rue Poncelet

Today we all took a trip to the great rue Poncelet market right near my house (they must have known who was coming when they put me next to what is arguably Paris' best market street). Look at how yummy everything is!!!! I love Paris and I love food--what a perfect combination.

From Paris to Morocco

So tonight we took the metro from Montparnasse to Morocco in the 3rd arrondissement for dinner at Le 404, a very trendy and beautifully delicious Moroccan near rue Rambuteau. The place oozes cool--dimly lit, scented candles, burning incense, great music, delicious smells and a very young and trendy crowd. The food did not disappoint, which was fortunate as it was the main reason we were there.

We decided to do it up right and shared three appetizers and three entrees between four of us. Starting with an eggplant and tomato puree, spiced cucumbers in a light yogurt sauce and a delicious samosa-like appetizer filled with chopped shrimp and vegetables, we were on a roll. The mains were even better--an authentic pastilla, with chopped pigeon, nuts, veggies and powdered sugar, a tagine with chicken, roasted pair and almonds and a lamb and merguez sausage couscous--perfect. With a bottle of rose to top off the dinner, this was fabulous.

Danny and Marcia are now off to Italy for a week, so our stomachs will take a break for some time before they return and we do it all over again (still have Le Pre Verre, L'As du Falafel, Angelina, Laduree, Au Bon Accueil, Mon Vieil Ami and Kim Anh on the list).

Danny and Marcia, Take 2

After eating so much on Friday, I woke up on Saturday with a nauseous, overly full feeling in my stomach. It was a little gross, but I figured that some more food would definitely cure the problem. So we headed off to Pierre Herme, arguably home to the greatest pastry chef in the world. Herme treats his dessert like fashion, introducing a new "line" (literally, not even a joke--we saw his 2005 autumn/winter line) and emphasizing a new ingredient every season. This season was the yuzu, a very flavorful japanese citrus typically used in cosmetics but becoming more common in food. I see why he treats his pastries like fashion, because they're more works of art that you want to admire than they are simple things you eat. These conconctions are so tremenous, so over-the-top that it is truly remarkable that they taste good (or, rather, it makes plain sense). As it was 11am though, we stayed away from the delicious pastries, opting instead f or Herme's takes on the croissant aux amandes and pain au chocolat.

We took our treats to a nearby cafe that I had read looks the other way if you bring in things from Herme, as long as you order a drink or something of that nature. Two cafe noirs and a cafe creme later, we had devoured our treats from Herme. The almond croissant was the single best breakfast pastry I've eaten in my life, bar none. What was very cool was that Liz has a cousin who writes cookbooks for a living, splitting her time between New York and Paris (what a terrible life). When we walked into Herme, we saw a cookbook which she had co-authored with Herme prominently displayed! Suffice it to say that I will return several times to indulge my gluttony.

After Herme, we moved on toward the Marais, walking up rue de Rennes toward St. Germain, passing about 9,000 stores, each of which Liz and Marcia proceeded to stop in while Danny and I twiddled our thumbs. Of course they each ended up getting just one thing out of about 95,000 choices, but I guess that's better (or at least for Danny haha). We passed Les Deux Magots, Brasserie Lipp and Cafe de Flore and sent our regards to Hemingway and Sartre. We spent a good chunk of time walking on both the left and right banks of the Seine, stopping at a lot of merchants to admire the vintage French posters (which were remarkably well-priced to my shock). Finally, we arrived in the Marais where I was given the chance to show off the tour guide skills I had acquired in two weeks of visits with my Paris Walks class. We hit the Hotel de Beauvais, Hotel Carnavalet, Hotel de Ville, Hotel de Sully, Place des Vosges, rue des Rosiers (L'As du Falafel was closed, but we went to Jo Goldenberg and Finkelstajzn) and around all the small streets. I really, really love the Marais--finding quaint streets, idling around the park at Place des Vosges. It's just such an incredibly diverse microcosm of the city itself--tradition, conservatism, haute couture, chic, liberalism.

From the Marais, it was off to the Grand Epicerie (I can't go more than like a few hours without some food experience haha). I had never been to Grand Epicerie on a Saturday afternoon before, and the producers were out like whoa! Danny and Marcia sampled a very nice wine from Chateauneuf-du-Pape which they found really great and decided to buy a bottle for Liz and I--a really sweet gesture and the first actual bottle in my collection haha. A producer of organic prosciutto from Parma was slicing pieces of his great creation to taste, and it is without question one of the best prosciutto's I've tasted (that seems to be the theme, the best I've ever tasted of everything haha, though I do admit I have a favorite proscuitto and that wasn't it, so it wasn't THE best, but one of them). Moving on, we tried an excellent sharp chevre cheese in three stages from Southwest France that was very delicious and had a very friendly producer. Afterward, we found a beer that is made with cheese (weird, weird concept) which was gross and I hope that the producer comes to his senses and leaves the two separate. We got our goods (some greek yogurts, some smoked salmon, some proscuitto, some roast turkey, perriers and great fruit--they have delicious produce) and headed out, rushing home to get ready for dinner.

We trudged back deep into the 15th to Le Troquet, this time going for the lighter, three-course prix fixe versus the six-course degustation that Liz and I had last month. I started with a delicious plate of grilled yellow mushrooms in some type of terrine that was just great. Other starters of grilled cepes, foie gras and marinated mushrooms under a fried egg were delicious as well (plus they have this great, country bread which they cut into thick slices--I can't get enough of it). The main I had was something I had loved last time and it didn't fail on my second manger--a true test of a dish. The chicken stuffed with an interesting mix of several types of chopped mushrooms accompanied by delicious Robuchon potatoes (they might as well call it butter with a little potato) was perfect. Finally, we capped off the night with a very nice cheese and a dessert that I devoured, a clafoutis of something which I can't remember, but was so delicious, so amazing that I could've eaten ten of them. I love to eat.

Danny and Marcia

I've been busy getting fat, that's all I've got to report. After a great lunch at Flora on Friday afternoon, the meals continued with dinner at La Braisiere, a classic French near my house in the 17th recommended by both TimeOut and the Pudlo Guide. It was a little disappointing and clearly a bit stuffy, but the air was cleared when a couple (clearly regulars) came into dine with their dog who had a habit of barking every so often--very amusing and cute dog, kept jumping haha. I started with a potato and foie gras terrine--too much potato, overpowered the small amount of foie gras. I had their famous Pyrennes lamb for dinner, which ended up being quite delicious. Both Liz and Marcia had the red tuna which came with a tremendous variation of ginger and different fruits interestingly prepared--one of the better tuna dishes i've tasted.

After dinner, we walked around the 17th for a while, finally making our way to the Arc de Triomphe. I've been past it a lot (I do live near it after all), at night as well, but until Saturday I never really appreciated it as much as I do now. I'm a sucker for gigantic, grandiose (sometimes too much for its own good) art--one of my favorite pieces is Michaelangelo's David. Anyway, the Arc really is tremendous--gorgeous, huge, extremely detailed on the scultpture on the front and on the artwork on the. It was gorgeous and we got some nice pictures (which will be added to this post eventually).

Yummmmmmmmmmy

Danny and Marcia (Liz's dad and his girlfriend) arrived in Paris today, beginning our days of eating well and seeing much. We started off right with a trip down to the Champs Elysee and a detour to Avenue Georges V for some window-shopping and a delicious, delicious lunch at Flora, the bistro run by the Provencal wiz and former sous-chef at Alain Passard's Arpege. The whole menu looked incredible, but I decided to be adventurous and go with the most unusual combinations. I started with a large marrow bone chopped in two and filled with a mijote of snails and chorizo in a tomato-based, lentil filled concoction. This was a crazy dish, but it more than worked and was amazing--the flavors worked so well together and the dish was so beautifully presented (I should have taken a picture, but I had to at least pretend I have a little class). After this I moved on to rabbit prepared three ways--an interesting meal, two of which worked (the chopped and whole preparations, while the shredded was too strong and sweet for my tastes) and one of which wasn't what I would call ideal. Nevertheless, they were served with a beautifully prepared warm fig--very nice. The meal was great, finished off with a nice, medium-bodied red from Provence that went really well with the rabbit (although I couldn't help thinking about my bunny hopping around in a cage in a nursery school). It's been very fun hanging out with Danny and Marcia and a great chance for Liz and I to do all of the touristy things and see Paris from the perspective of a one-week vacationer (with the knowledge of a temporary resident). Off to dinner at the Michelin-starred La Braisiere and a walk on the Seine and up the Arc de Triomphe--see ya later.

And so begins bistro weekend

Tonight, Liz and I met up with her cousin, David and his wife Nicole. We had a nice time at the small bistro where I had lunch on Monday, le Reminet. Le Reminet offers, in my opinion, one of the best values in Paris (3 courses for 17 euros at dinner on Monday and Thursday). We had a very nice time at dinner and enjoyed some pretty good food. However, Le Reminet was only the start of a great food weekend (both this and next). Tomorrow I'm off to Flora for lunch, a kitchen manned by the former #2 at l'Arpege, Flora Mikula. At dinner, I will be going to Mon Vieil Ami, the Pudlo guide's Bistro of the Year 2005, on Ile-St-Louis. Saturday lunch will bring me to L'As du Falafel for some quality fried chickpeas, and dinner will draw me back deep into the 15th for a return to Le Troquet, my delicious meal described in great depth below. Sunday will bring me to the delicous rue Poncelet market for some cheese at Alleosse and a sausage sandwich on a Paul baguette w/ delicious onions from Le Stubli, while dinner will go down at Le 404, a trendy and fun Moroccan I've been looking forward to trying. The week after, I'll be having tea (or rather, the most deliciously rich hot chocolate) at Angelina and eating at Angl'Opera, La Braisiere, Le Bistrot d'a Cote Flaubert (Michel Rostang's bistro in the 17th, pres de chez moi), Au Coin des Gourmets and L'Os a Moelle.

On another note, today I began a language instruction exchange with my landlord. I go to her apartment for two hours each Thursday and we spend one hour speaking in French (where she corrects my French and teaches me more appropriate ways of expressing a certain sentiment) and an hour speaking in English (she's an English tutor so I help her correct student work and just generally aid her in the language the same way in which she assists me with French). These sessions are both a great opportunity to speak French and delve into the French mind--my landlord is a woman of the world who I've really grown to like. It's a lot of fun to talk with her for these two hours a week, considering that outside of that, my interaction with her is limited to the (reluctant) handing over of rent money.

Paris is fantastic, wonderful, incredible, spectacular, amazing. Only New York rivals this city in my heart. It's half me and half the Beaujolais talking, yet I truly do love this city. This past month in Paris (and past 7 weeks in Europe) has been just an incredible month. I love this city, this language, the culture, the beauty, the history, etc. Everyone should live in Paris once, there is nothing like it.

Ze Croissants--Zey Are So Good

Enjoying pastry wizard Gerard Mulot's goods...

La parti des ouvriers

Today was the day that Paris was to be paralyzed--or so at least that was how the press had made it seem. Six of the largest labor organizations in France went on strike today, partially slowing down the metro system (luckily neither of the lines that I took today). At any rate, my Paris Walks class today again met in the Marais to traverse the Jewish quarter and the Faubourg St. Antoine, the ancient quarter of the workers just off the Bastille (how appropriate for today). As we made our way to Place de la Bastille, we encountered what was the largest of France's protests today, mainly workers unions and the Communist Party.
We stopped for a while to observe while our extremely knowledgable professor proceeded to talk to us about the symbolic importance of the Bastille, particularly for the working class. It was pretty fun to be a part of the strike and get some good Communist Party literature out of it. I particularly like the photo of the little girl right here, but I don't think she quite knows that she's waving that flag in the name of both the Communist Party and better hours and wages.

Le Reminet

Having switched my film class to 9AM on Monday mornings, I find myself hanging around the Latin Quarter with no agenda come noon. Today, I decided to check out what seemed to be (and probably is) one of the best bargains in Paris--lunch at le Reminet. Le Reminet is a very small bistro very close to the Seine and Notre Dame (but on the Left Bank, just across the river from our Lady), tucked away on an impossibly hard-to-find street (not mentioned on any major maps, but only on the very specific, multi-page map books of Paris). Nevertheless, I found it after going into the bookstore Gibert Jeune and consulting a 75 page map book of Paris. So finally arriving at the bistro, which comes highly recommended in the Pudlo Guide, the Time Out Guide and Zagat (24 food rating), I sat down to a three-course lunch.

I started with an interesting tartare of granny smith apple, white fish and something else which I can't pinpoint, accompanied by some mesclun greens in a light vinagrette--very delicious and refreshing.

Following this was my main course, a very generous and fresh piece of haddock in a light mustard sauce served over shaved brocoli--excellent, sharp flavor in the haddock, nicely complemented by the brocolli and the sauce.

Finally, I wasn't in the mood for a big dessert (you have to cut somewhere, much to my dismay), so I finished with a mixed fruit salad--a nice assortment of kiwi, banana, apple, and several kinds of grapefruit.

Considering that the restaurant has a 24 food rating in Zagat and is located right near the Seine and Notre Dame, you might expect the lunch to be pretty expensive. Yet Le Reminet practically gives this 3-course lunch away, charging only 13 euros. Who said there aren't any bargains in Paris?

Nous ne pouvons pas vivre sans pain

C'est la verite...

La pain est le fondation du monde et de la vie humaine...

Monsieur Godard

Ya, she's not that bad looking. When occasionally watching movies from my dad's time (we're talking Before Christ), he would point out women that were the sex symbols of his time, the large part of which never even drew the least bit of interest on my part. Yet that was before I saw Jean-Luc Godard's masterpiece "Le Mepris," starring France's most important contribution to film, Brigitte Bardot. On top of her beauty, she's actually a tremendous actress, probably one of the best film actresses I've ever seen.

Le Mepris ("Contempt" en anglais) is a fascinating movie about so many different things that it's difficult to lock into words. It is at the same time a movie about making movies (a large part of the film is concerned with the great German director's fictional adaptation of Homer's Odyssey), a fierce critique of Hollywood and its production studios/producers, and an interesting look at the emotionality of relationships. I'm very much getting into the New Wave cinema of Truffaut, Godard and others. It's some pretty unique and innovative filmmaking, different from the bulk of what I've seen in my life. Check it out, quality film.

Nuit Blanche @ Versailles

So it was Nuit Blanche last night, one of (I believe) two nights a year when Paris keeps open a large number of its cultural institutions (the Louvre, Versailles, etc.) from about 8pm until 7am the next morning! Moreover, there is just a ton of fanfare, as hordes of people are out in the streets, all the buildings and monuments are lit up in ways that are unique to the evening (the Empire State building of Paris, Tour Montparnasse, had all of its office lights turned on, many in different colors, so the building was incredibly illuminated!). Liz and I went to Versailles for the evening for two reasons. Firstly, because the chateau had invited 10 modern artists to use their creativity and s'habiller different parts of the property, some of which are never open to the public. Secondly, we decided to go because the chateau had invited France's cuisiniere-son (har har), Alain Ducasse, to dream up a menu that could be served to the masses at (relative to the Plaza Athenee) affordable prices.

We got to the chateau and were given a crazy brochure/map that glows in the dark and has amazing pictures and descriptions. The first exhibit that we went to was the Grand Commun. You walk through a gate into an inner-courtyard, surrounded by the building. The artist of this exhibit decided to put either a red, blue or white light (obviously for America, not France--I kid, I kid) into each of the rooms, providing both a very cool exhibit and a patriotic tribute to the land of De Gaulle.

After the Grand Commun it was off to the Orangerie, where we got to walk through an immense building that seemed as though it was useless other than for processions and statue display. Nevertheless, this particular building was beautiful and the grounds of Versaille as a whole are beyond words. You can see Liz in this picture before a very crazy light display.

After going through a few other exhibits, most notably one that turned a Coliseum-esque outdoor stadium into a discotheque by putting a giant silver disco ball in the middle and accompanying it with a DJ and light show, we decided to sit down to fast food a la Ducasse. Now while this was mass produced, I still have to give the operation a lot of credit. It was easily the most creative and delicious mass-produced food I've ever had. We started with an interesting salad of fennel, shrimp, slices of orange, mushrooms and flower buds, a very nice and refreshing combo. We skipped the foie gras with fig compote and brioche mousseline, as well as the lobster gratinee and duck and mushroom risotto (which looked worse than they sounded), and went for Ducasse's elaborate takes on the hot dog and sausage sandwich. Ducasse it seemed had mashed down or pureed a boudin noir (a black sausage) and then topped it with an apple slaw on a delicious roll, making for easily one of the best sandwiches I've enjoyed while in Paris. We also tried his take on a tuna burger, which put a generous piece of well-cooked and well-marinated tuna on a roll with interestingly cooked tomatoes and a yummy but light sauce. Finally, his hot dog was very good as well, put on a baguette with a strong dijon mustard, melted emmental cheese and sliced sausage. We finished up with a nod to the King, Ducasse' Louis XIV au chocolate, a very nicely layered milk-chocolate, dark-chocolate, chocolate mousse dessert with an interesting crispy bottom. The meal wasn't what I would've eaten at Plaza Athenee, but it beats Penn dining hall food!

Chef Gregg

So I woke up this morning and decided to be a little more ambitious in the kitchen than instant oatmeal or cereal (but only slightly of course). I made an omelette with ham, swiss cheese and mushrooms and it was great! It didn't start out well when part of an egg splattered on the floor--and on my foot--but that was probably the only part that didn't go smoothly. I unfortunately don't have a picture of my breakfast, but it looked pretty too! I guess it must be the French rubbing off on me...

Living like a king...

OK, so even if nothing else remotely great happens while I'm in Paris, after this Saturday night, it won't matter--I'll still view this trip as worthwhile. Saturday night is a nuit blanche (white night) where tons of restaurants, cafes, stores, pools, clubs and museums stay open till the next morning--there are, I believe, only one or two of these a year. Yet while a lot goes on in Paris, the most exciting celebration of Nuit Blanche will be taking place at Versailles.

Chateau de Versailles will be admitting people to the property for free on Saturday night from 8pm until 7am on Sunday. They have invited 10 contemporary artists to dress up and essentially create (they use the french word s'habiller, which literally means to get dressed, but unfortunately doesn't have an English equivalent that captures its meaning, though you can figure it out) modern works of art using different parts of Versaille's grounds (its gardens, its orangerie, its Architecture School, its Grand Commun, etc.) as their canvases. A lot of light and sound is also integrated into the project, which promises to be very cool and unique.

However, what is both more important and the factor driving me to attend, is the presence of Alain Ducasse. Ducasse was named as one of the 10 artists, the "culinaire-createur" so to speak, who will be dreaming up appropriately contemporary food to accompany the fete. Ducasse will be serving both a 3-course menu outside in the Versaille gardens and smaller yet equally enticing hors d'oeuvres. I'm sure I'll get to have both, but I will be sitting down to a 3-course meal personally overseen by Alain Ducasse (and not one of his disciples--you can't even get that at the Essex House or the Plaza Athenee most nights) for only...29 euros! No, not 229 euros or even 129 euros, but 29 euros! To be sure, there will be no beluga caviar nor truffles, but there will be Ducasse' culinary brilliance making its mark on every dish.

So I have come to France and managed to eat at the table of arguably the world's greatest chef at no less of a locale than the grandest residence in the world. On Saturday night, I'll be living better than Louis XIV--King Gregg ahahah (not quite, but I can dream).

Etudiants Francais

Today I finally encountered real live French students. Subsequently, I realized that I have about the communication abilities of a child in kindergarten. When I sit in this class, I'm able to understand a decent amount of what the professor is saying--aided in part by the fact that this is a class on early American film and I am, as every French person will tell you, an American. Yet nevertheless, I always feel that I'm missing crucial information and look over at my French neighbor's notes. I'm sure I'll get the hang of it over the next few classes and will hopefully have an edge when we begin to watch movies (which, I'm assuming--though hopefully not wrongly--will be screened in English with French subtitles, though I've been surprised before...)

It seemed as though my day of relative confusion in the class was foreshadowed by my relative confusion when I arrived at Jussieu. If you notice the picture, the campus is gigantic, although it isn't laid out in separate buildings, but essentially as though someone mashed together 60 different buildings into a contiguous structure. Maybe I'm biased, but it seems as though the campus could easily eat Penn's campus twice? At any rate, it certainly is larger than Ile Saint Louis and Ile de la Cite combined. Further, the buildings don't have names, but instead have numbers. All of that on top of the fact that there wasn't a map to be found. I finally found my class after aimlessly wandering around, and I am definitely not one who typically does that--I like to think I've got some Christopher Columbus-esque navigational skills in me.

Before I got to the class, I had about a three hour break between classes and decided to head up to the Seine with a magazine and a croissant from Poilane. I was sitting on a bench across the river from Notre Dame right near St. Michel, and if it weren't for the throngs of camera-laden tourists, it would've been pretty picturesque. It was like a picture off the cover of Fodor's Paris.

After my class, I went to Gibert Jeune, a bookstore near the Sorbonne that serves as the de facto campus bookstore for most Parisian universities. While perusing the shelves to find a book for my class, I noticed that a number of the books on American cinema and the founding of Hollywood were written by my professor (although, how many French books exist on Hollywood?)--that, at the least, was a nice confirmation of my professor's contribution to his field.

Liz's substantially more interesting class, 19th Century French Art, was visiting the Louvre, so I decided to meet her there and then go have some Indian food. Now that I have an annual membership (free, for art history students like myself, har har), I walk in like I own the place--it's like I flash that thing and boom, I'm gold. Rather than look through the museum (I mean who really cares about the Louvre, it doesn't even have anything worth seeing), I pulled a classic Gregg and walked right past the priceless, invaluable treasures to the mediocre--yet very picturesque, pleasant and tastefully decorated--Cafe Richelieu on the second floor of the museum's Richelieu wing. I sat down and did some homework and planning and read the paper over a cafe creme for about an hour and a half while waiting for Liz--perfect relaxation, my kind of massage. Meanwhile out the window, there were a number of police on horseback galloping around (much faster than they should've been, although I bet they tried to run over some tourists) the I.M Pei glass pyramid--it didn't seem like they were doing anything worthwhile though. Cafe Creme in the center of the world's finest museum--Paris ain't that bad.

Traiteurs Asiatiques

I'm guessing that you probably haven't had the chance to visit a traiteur asiatique? Well if you haven't yet enjoyed this luxury, I feel sorry for you (half joking, half serious). These Asian merchants are literally everywhere in Paris, the equivalent of the neighborhood Chinese restaurant in New York.

Yet the alluring part of these traiteurs is that food is ordered by weight. For example, you are able to order as little as 100 grams of a single dish or even a single dumpling! Being a lover of sampling everything, it allows me to make a meal that would cost me the same as a single dish, but allows me to taste 4 or 5 different things.

I still can't remember how to say chopsticks in French--every time I go it is as though I didn't ask the meaning of the word 600 times. I feel like a fool when I make the motion of bringing my two fingers together to symbolize the action of using chopsticks. Not to mention the fact that it's funny to see the names of such dishes as "mushoo au porc" or "lo mein au poulet." If only the food was fresh out of the wok (and not fresh out of the microwave), I'd have no complaints.

Parcours Parisiens

Today I went on my first walking tour of Paris with my class, Parcours Parisiens (loosely translates at Paris Walks). The professor is truly a bottomless well of knowledge, as able to speak to a prominent monument as he is to a nameless, faceless (or so one would think) street or building. We started at the St-Paul Metro stop in the heart of Marais, from there walking to various "hotels particuliers," the residences of the Parisian aristocrats (and occasionally royalty) from the 13th to 19th centuries. It at times felt as though I was on a museum tour, but in some ways Paris is easily romanticized as a collection of the finest and rarest art.

The Marais is an area full of varied (and often conflicting) histories, having at the same time housed both the cities wealthiest and poorest populations. Alongside beautiful mansions lie far less noteworthy buildings, yet all equally contribute to the spirit of the quartier. While we have not yet had the chance to explore the eastern part of the Marais and the Jewish Quarter (that will be next week), we did pass the new Holocaust memorial which I really hope I have the chance to get back to.

We ended in the beautiful Place des Vosges, easily one of the most beautiful squares in Paris (not to mention my favorite). The picture certainly doesn't do it justice (as is often the case)--a beautifully maintained park with statues and fountains surrounded by incredibly beautiful buildings whose facades are homogenous, lending the impression of a contiguous structure.

The class definitely seems promising and will, if nothing else, afford me the knowledge to be a tour guide of sorts. I'm looking forward to visiting the parts of the city that are far less visited by tourists and are only recently becoming more integrated with the landscape--areas such as Belleville and Menilmontant (the Brooklyns of Paris, so to speak). Plus, it beats sitting in a classroom.

Another day, another boulangerie

It seems at times there are more boulangeries than people in Paris. To be sure, if the baguettes were to ever wage a war against the Parisian populace, they would win because of sheer manpower. Today I finally made my way to the granddaddy of boulangeries, Poilane.

Sold across the world, Poilane's breads are some of France's finest. Cafes and markets all over town sell Poilane products and serve their sandwiches and tartes on Pain Poilane (charging a hefty premium I might add). Today I went to the location in the 6th at 8, rue du Cherche Midi, the endroit at which Poilane has been baking bread for over 70 years. I bought a small amount of the legendary miche, seen here in its entirety. Surprisingly the bread was pretty cheap, but easily the best miche I've had in Paris. The slices are huge, so I made a delicious lunch cutting one slice into three pieces--proscuitto, smoked salmon, and smoked turkey with Maille whole grain mustard.

After leaving Poilane, I headed over to the Grande Epicerie. The gigantic left bank department store Le Bon Marche owns this gigantic food emporium which is just next door to its apartment store on Rue de Sevres near St. Germain. Easily equal in size to several football fields, the store carries a gigantic selection of foods and drinks from around the world, as well as a great selection of prepared foods, breads, pastries, charcuterie, fish, etc. (think Dean and Deluca fused with Fairway; my New York analogy). Anyway, I picked up a good amount of things, but I won't go into detail--this post has already done enough of that. Suffice it to say that I'm not starving.

L'Ecole

Yes I'm studying abroad, but it more often feels as though I'm more so hanging out abroad. I have class three days a week, one of which is at Paris VII, a pretty prestigious liberal arts university overshadowed by her sister, Paris IV, better known as the Sorbonne. While I would have loved the glitz that goes with taking a class at the Sorbonne, I quickly learned that her course offerings were limited to literature, art history and other disciplines that aren't exactly going to be my first choices.

Moreover, the bulk of my classes are with other American kids, most of whom are from Penn and Columbia. The program, Columbia University at Reid Hall, is a really small and great program that has a certain high school feel. The administrators are all great and really helpful and it's been a good place to go to school. The courses themselves are interesting as well. I'm taking a French film class taught by a great and dynamic professor from Paris VII that puts heavy emphasis on the directors of the nouvelle vague (New Wave--Truffaut, Godard, etc.) while juxtaposing them with early American films by Orson Welles and others. It's been an interesting class and has not been tough, which is always a plus.

The second class I'm taking is called Parcours Parisien, or Paris Walks. It is a class that divides its time between lectures in the classroom and three-hour walking tours of Paris, each week visiting a new quartier or neighborhood. I am going on my first walking tour this Tuesday and we'll be visiting the Marais, an area that offers so much and one I've quickly come to love. The professor offers a seemingly endless well of information on Paris and manages to deliver it in a (relatively) coherent and interesting manner.

I'm also taking a French grammar class; that's all I need to say about that one. My final class at Reid Hall is the History of Paris Through its Myths and Legends, a class that seeks to retrace and teach the history of la France through understanding its iconic figures (Jeanne d'Arc et d'autres) and its myths. The class has been my least favorite, but it is nonetheless interesting at times. I'll be starting my class at Paris VII next week and will either be taking a film class on early American cinema (mind you I've never taken a film class before this semester and might possibly now be taking two) or on the lives of the impoverished in contemporary French society (19th and 20th centuries). I'll probably opt for the latter, but ya never know what life (or a professor) will throw you.

No complaints about school here--it's been very nice not doing much work at all.

Beheadings and Other Forms of Torture

Today on the way home from the Louvre, I quickly passed Place de la Concorde in Paris. It is in this square where the well-known Egyptian obelisk is located, as well as the heads of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Well, actually, I believe that they removed their heads, but it is nevertheless the site of the beheadings of both monarchs. In fact, it was also home to the guillotine that did in such men as Robespierre during the French Revolution. I also heard it is where they regularly behead fat American tourists, but I can't confirm that.

It was finally time to do laundry after not having done anything for a month. I think the ideal time to do laundry is when you have no underwear left and your laundry begins to smell horrible. At any rate, I finally went over to the "laverie" and did my job. In the end, it didn't turn out to be that bad--about 10 euros for the whole kitten kaboodle. Nevertheless, I hate doing laundry. It almost makes the idea of being beheaded at Place de la Concorde attractive! Yet there is something kind of fun about doing laundry in Paris, but only in the way that every minute, seemingly mundane task becomes exciting merely by nature of the fact that it is being done in the City of Light. Maybe when my parents come, I will give my laundry to their hotel--that's a thought...

Pain Moisan

After wasting time at the Louvre (although I did buy the French magazine Vogue Hommes, which until now I had only heard about and never seen), I managed to run into Moisan on the way home, a well known organic boulanger whose breads all look delicious. These were probably some of the best breads I've seen thus far (equal to Eric Kayser's on Rue Monge), but as I wasn't that hungry and am planning on buying a loaf of pain miche at Poilane tomorrow, I opted only for a petit lardon, a mini, softer baguette cooked with small pieces of saucisson to give the bread a distinct flavor. The bread is delicious and I will have to be back to try some of the larger, more complex things, particularly the unusual brioches they had in the window.

French Bureaucracy

Today I set out to get a free annual pass to the Louvre. As a student of art history (or at least so says my Columbia student ID), I am apparently entitled to enter nearly every museum in the city of Paris for frizzle. Yet whereas most museums merely look at your ID and then let you in upon reading that you are a student of the arts, the Louvre makes you go through a tedious and long process of getting a special Louvre Art Student ID (carte des etudiants en arts) for which they've set aside an entire office in the museum.

After waiting in line (though I've found that the French just stand around and don't really have a formal line, thus leading to problems and people jumping at the sound of hearing "la prochaine"), I sat down with a museum employee and handed him my ID, which he quickly dismissed as being inadequate. Apparently, because the field of study on my ID was handwritten in place of being typed (of all things, come on), I am forced to get a letter typed on school letterhead explaining that I am indeed an art history major. I bet when I go back to the museum on Wednesday I'll need something else--this all too much reminds me of the painfully horrendous visa process I went through pre-Europe. Nevertheless, it is all that it takes for me to get entirely free access to the world's most famous art collection, so I won't complain any more than I already have.

Good old America

As much as I love Paris, I've found that it is severly lacking in breakfast offerings. I go to my local supermarket and find a paltry and pathetic cereal shelf, my lifeblood when I am in America. Moreover, the French don't have instant oatmeal. On the one hand I admire the French way--tirelessly laboring over food, using the best ingredients, all-natural, etc., etc.--yet on the other hand, sometimes you just want to throw something in the microwave. So lacking flavored instant oatmeal, I did what any child of the Internet would do and bought some on eBay! Yesterday, a nice girl from Virginia shipped me the Quaker Instant Oatmeal 55-Pack Variety Box that I had won on eBay, complete with Brown Sugar & Cinnamon, Apple and Cinnamon, Banana Bread, Cinnamon Spice and Cinnamon Roll flavors. So while all the French are laboriously cooking their oatmeal (if they even eat it), I'll throw mine in the microwave.

Laundry

I hate doing laundry. I have a laundry room in my house in New York (my parents' house that is) that is right near my bedroom in which for years I threw my dirty clothes. When I went to college, I was forced to do my own laundry for the first time. It did suck a lot, but I quickly got over it and began to feel progressively more adult-like with each load. Nevertheless, I loved coming home on school vacations accompanied by a 10-ton suitcase of dirty laundry.

I've quickly learned that Paris is the home of the laundry robber-barons. Whereas it cost me $1.25 in both Philadelphia and Ithaca (as you can see I'm pretty knowledgeable on this matter, as I've done laundry in two diverse geographic locations), it costs about $9.00 to do that same load in Paris. Not to mention that the cost of a drier is about 7x what it would be in the US. I guess that I'll just suck it up and do my laundry, though I'm fortunate to have such a large wardrobe that will minimize the number of times I have to do laundry.

The guy who owns the local laundromat is difficult to understand. Now I'm already at somewhat of an impediment in understanding French, although I've made out very well up until this point. However, the man has a lisp and I cannot understand his French for anything. Nevertheless, the signs on the wall make it easy enough. I haven't actually done a load yet--only the pre-laundry research. I am too lazy to carry my huge bag of laundry down six flights of old, rickety Parisian stairs. Yet tomorrow is the day, no getting around it...

Mexico by way of the Seine

Yesterday (Friday) was a good time as always. I find that is is pretty difficult to have a bad day in Paris when you don't have much work nor much class (3 days of class, if you can even call it that). The only mildly challenging part is that all of my professors lecture in French at what seems to be lightyear speed. Nevertheless, it is really helping my french and I've found that I understand more than I ever realized. Classes really aren't difficult at all and are pretty enjoyable, particularly my film class and Paris Walks, where we basically go on walking tours of Parisian quartiers and learn about the architecture, history and politics of the neighborhoods. The professors are all accomplished, interesting and sympathetic to the fact that we're dumb Americans. My classes at Paris VII (a real French university with French kids--no more sympathy haha) or Paris IV (the big, bad Sorbonne)--I haven't decided which--begin next week. I'm going to try out several classes and see which one I like the best.

Anyway, onto yesterday. After realizing we had not yet had a croissant in Paris, we decided to break into croissants the right way with a trip over to Gerard Mulot. Mulot is one of Paris' most noted patissiers and boulangers, and both his shop and croissant lived up to the hype. His shop is tucked into a small, quaint street just off blvd. St Germain in the 6th not far from our school (Reid Hall). The offerings were endless and I will definitely make it back. As for the the croissant, it was delicious...

Afterwards, we decided to go to the Rue Cler market in the 7th right by the Eiffel Tower. We've started to carry around our cameras and take pictures--I hate feeling like a tourist, but I guess I'd rather look like a tourist than not have photos to remember my time in Paris. The Rue Cler market is a pretty well known market street in Paris with a beautiful backdrop in the form of the Tour Eiffel (how French am I). Although it has been pretty hyped up (and is very touristy), that thing was a piece of shit. It was the biggest letdown and the worst market we've been to thus far. The problem was the market wasn't lively like other markets that we go to (my favorite being Rue Poncelet near my house in the 17th, with one of the best fromageries, alsatian charcuteries and rotisseries I've found) and the shops weren't particularly inviting. Also, most of the stores didn't have anything outside their storefronts. For a market to really be fun and great, there has to be a lot of people, a lot of great smells and a lot of great food (pretty simple, right). Walking through (and eating our way through) the markets in Paris have been some of the most fun, typically Parisian (at least for an American) times we've had.

After spending a little time walking along rue Cler, we ventured back a bit deeper in the 7th (7th arrondissement that is) and walked up a beautiful cobblestone pedestrian alleyway to rue Jean Nicot, a great little discovery. I had read about a quirky yet well-known boulangerie owned by the master baker Jean Poujauran; quirky it was to say the least. When we walked up to the window, we saw bread fashioned in the shape of an alligator (a big alligator too) and a lobster, with olives for eyes. The animals were so perfectly done and looked delicious. Poujauran's breads looked great, but I wasn't really that hungry. Of course, my eyes are always larger than my stomach, so I ended up buying a petit raisin, basically a very small country-style baguette with extra flour and loaded with raisins.

After Poujauran, I got a greek sandwich from a small greek traiteur on the same block and we ended up eating in a small garden shared by a church and the American University in Paris program. After several uncharacteristically cold days in Paris, it was great to have a beautiful day which we could thoroughly enjoy. On our walk to the garden, we stumbled across an American traiteur. French supermarkets lack a lot of things that American supermarkets consider staples--items such as Pam cooking spray, Quaker instant oatmeal, pancake mix and syrup, Pop Tarts, Cap'n Crunch (of course!), etc. Anyway, several American traiteurs have popped up around town selling these items, and it is always fun to be nostalgic and say that we remember those items from our days in the States (kidding, kidding). The only problem is that a box of pop tarts is about $8 and Pam cooking spray is $12--compared to their near-nothing prices in America. I guess we'll just have to wait for our parents to come and shower us with care packages.

After lunch, we left the 7th and crossed the Seine via the Pont d'Alma to the Right Bank where we walked up Avenue Montaigne. Avenue Montaigne is arguably Paris' most chic street, housing a number of high-end stores and the Hotel Plaza Athenee. We walked around for a while and tried on some things to verify our sizes (and then proceeded to purchase them on eBay and save a million euros).

After resting up and hanging out, we cleaned up and slapped on some trendy clothes. We headed out again to St. Germain for dinner at Anahuacalli, a mexican restaurant that I had read great things about in Time Out Eating and Drinking. I figured we would mix it up a bit, eating some derivative of French cuisine one week and then another cuisine the second week. After one of the most delicious meals of my life at Le Troquet (see earlier post) last week, Anahuacalli was a great follow-up meal. We were brought to our table by one of the owners, a very friendly older Mexican woman. The idea of ordering alcohol completely legally and without ID is a very nice change from America, and as I had heard that Anahuacalli had good margaritas, I figured why not. It was a bit strong...but what are you going to do--one drink never killed anyone. In terms of service, we had the best of both worlds. One of our waitresses was always friendly and smiling (the owner), while the other seemed as though she had broken up with her boyfriend and been robbed in the same day. Nevertheless, service can't get in the way of delicious food. We started with a plate of varied appetizers, containing chicken taquitos with a really fresh crumbled cheese and a salad of cactus paddles with grapefruit, as well as really good fresh guacamole. The best part was my main course, a filet of beef in cuitlacoche sauce (a mexican fungus that grows on corn)--the sauce was very thick and delicious. I really love getting the occasion to speak to people in French in a non-academic atmosphere, as it is something that I haven't had before. Talking with waiters and waitresses, hairdressers, shop owners and others is interesting, particularly when you have to talk about things that weren't covered in high school French (i.e. "I want my hair spiky"). Anahuacalli was a great meal.

We've really gotten into watching the West Wing since we bought the DVD of the First Season. The show is tremendous and I'm sorry that I didn't get into it earlier. Even if politics is something that only mildly interests you, start watching the show! It is great, and Martin Sheen is one of the most presidential actors I've seen. That was a mighty long post, but there is a lot going on here. See ya later.

Paris and Chocolate

It seems to me, at times, that I let my obsession with food overtake me. So much so that again, at times, this blog seems like it is more about my eating then anything else. Oh well, what are you going to do. So today after school, I walked to rue Vavin (only two blocks from Reid Hall) right next to the Luxembourg (I even spelled it the French way) Gardens and went to Jean-Paul Hevin. Hevin has quickly become one of Paris' most renowned chocolatiers and his store is basically a chocolate lover's dream. The store is jet black with glass display cases that are typically reserved for holding jewelry, but instead they are holding chocolates (which in some cases are worth more than jewelry) and pastries. I opted for this deep chocolate baby seen in the picture, so rich that I had to share it with Liz. Alternating layers of dark chocolate and milk chocolate, with a rich, unusual texture on the top. I hope you're not salivating...

French Gastronomy

Last night I had one of the most incredible dinners in my life. I've always sought out great meals and manage to eat well 95% of the time in my life. I've been to a lot of the big name restaurants in America and have greatly enjoyed a number of them. Yet sometimes, a little, unassuming bistro tucked away deep in the 15th (deep, deep in Paris) can knock you off your feet. Perhaps because I didn't have such high expectations, or perhaps because what I entered was such a small, down-to-earth-in-its-decor bistro, dinner at Le Troquest was easily one of my favorite meals in over 20 years.

Le Troquet is owned by chef Christian Etschebest, a former sous-chef at Le Crillon and Le Maurice (two 3-star Michelin restaurants in Paris) and a product of France's basque region. Etschebest left the pressure of big-name restaurants and went out on his own, opening up the charming bistro where he still cooks every night it's open. Le Troquet does not have a printed menu; the offerings are written on blackboards as the menu changes often and with the seasons. We opted for the 6-course menu degustation--tremendous value (the best I've ever seen) at 38 euros. In a lot of Parisian restaurants, you can barely get a bad main course for 38 euros.

The meal started off in true basque fashion with a creamy soup ladled into bowls filled with slices of fresh chorizo and walnuts. Served with great bread, the soup was deliciously creamy and well-balanced by the kick of the chorizo and the crunchy texture of the walnuts. After the soup came a tartar of salmon over a delicious and unique assortment of fresh vegetables. This course came in a very light sauce and was delicious, one of my favorites in the meal. The salmon was followed by a white fish in a tomato-based, spicy basque sauce. The fish was so soft, moist and perfectly cooked that you barely needed to touch it with a fork to cut it in pieces. The sauce was delicious, with juicy fresh tomatoes, capers and a number of spices. After the fish course came a generous piece of chicken stuffed with a variety of mushrooms--a simple yet incredibly delicious dish. The chicken also came surrounded by Joel Robuchon's famous mashed potatoes, the creamiest, most delicious potatoes period. I should add that these courses are incredibly generous and thus, at this point, we were stuffed. Yet never one to turn away food, we dove right into the cheese course, a creamy goat cheese drizzled with olive oil served with a bed of field greens with a light, refreshing vinaigrette. The cheese was so creamy and delicious, so perfect--the perfect cap to a perfect meal. The final course was somewhat of a disappointment--we were given a warm fig topped with some type of gelato--and didn't live up to the rest of the courses. Yet by this point we were stuffed and didn't care, having just eaten one of the most delicious meals we've ever enjoyed. Le Troquet is charming and cute, and I'd definitely recommend it to anyone coming to Paris. I will be back...

A Morning at Rue Poncelet

Going to markets in Paris has quickly become both a weekly tradition and favorite activity. This afternoon Liz and I went to Rue Poncelet, a great and lively market street right near my apartment in the 17th. It's really great to have such high-quality offerings near my house, not to mention the fact that you can see the Arc de Triomphe (it's only a few blocks away) in the background.

I stopped at Le Stubli, a German/Alsatian charcuterie, for a delicious blanc sausage sandwich with onions on a poppy seed baguette from Boulangerie Paul. Then it was off to Divay, the large boucherie, for the best rotisserie chicken that we've found in Paris. We then stopped at Alleosse for some brie en melon and emmental and at Paul for a baguette. There are several large fruit/vegetable markets with some of the freshest looking produce we've ever seen--we bought delicious blueberries, raspberries and a sweet potato. It is hard to believe that we made two meals out of all this and only spent about 5 euros each--who said there aren't any bargains in Paris?

World's Largest Flea Market

Today I took the Metro Line 4 all the way from the Southern tip of Paris (Liz's apartment) to the Northern tip of Paris at Porte de Clignancourt. Liz and I decided to go to the Marches aux Puces a St Ouen, which in English means the St Ouen Flea Market. The market is more a collection of 12 markets with thousands of merchants selling mostly antiques. What would have been my mother's paradise was my worst nightmare, as I had read about vintage clothes and was left with merely vintage furniture. Sorry, but I'm not too interested in a Louis XIV-era armoire, particularly when I'm not buying it.

Not to mention that the market was lined with crappy merchants selling fake clothes and fake bags. I never would have imagined that fake Louis Vuitton bags were around in Paris, although now in retrospect I don't know why I wouldn't have. Maybe I just figured that the French government would have a special fashion police that would outnumber its army in manpower? At least if I need a fake bag to give to Liz for her birthday, I know where to find it in France (haha, just kidding).

At least the day was redeemed by our trip to a pretty quirky market in the 17th which was made up of producers from the countryside that had make the trek to Paris to sell their goods. While it contained all the regulars (numerous fromagers, boulangers, bouchers, etc.), it also had some pretty unusual things, like seaweed spreads and very, very unusual desserts. However, I found an amazing chocolate chip cookie, so I was immediately sold.

Welcome to my blog...

I never thought I would be so lame as to start an online blog...but I guess I'm not that cool after all. I'll be writing from time to time during my four months in Paris, telling of all my exploits and adventures. Enjoy...