Paris Journal 2010 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com
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I’m late starting today because of the carelessness of one of the homeowners association board members from back home – or is it my fault, because I tried to do something nice for the board? Whichever, maybe I’ve learned my lesson – maybe not. I seem to keep repeating the same mistake, over and over . . . . when will I learn? Yesterday, after working at the computers, we needed supplies, and not just the ordinary supplies that we normally buy at Ed, the discount grocery down the block from us. We required things like a good mayonnaise: one that does not have mustard, sugar, MSG, or glucose syrup added to it. So we took the market bag up to Monoprix. We do have a nifty cart with wheels that we normally use for Ed shopping, but there are too many curbs to negotiate along the longer route to Monoprix, and the sidewalks of the rue du Commerce are just too crowded these days. Our neighborhood has become a shopping destination! I guess it always was supposed to be, with a name like “rue du Commerce.” We promised ourselves we’d only get the bare minimum at Monoprix, so we would not have to carry so much over so many city blocks. But after we spent a little time in that store, I was determined to buy as little as possible there on general principle – because I don’t want them to have any more of our money than necessary. There were several instances of no prices posted on the shelves, and of course they don’t put price stickers directly on the goods anymore. And don’t even think about asking an employee a question – if you could even find one to ask. The cheese “shop” area of the store contained an unpleasant employee. So we didn’t buy the Salers cheese we’d planned to get. We’ll go to the real fromagerie today or tomorrow instead. I remembered another unpleasant Monoprix employee I’d encountered in the past. Then, in pondering our past experiences, I realized that on the whole, the Monoprix cashiers are far less pleasant than those in other stores, like Ed, Carrefour, Champion, and the Grande Épicerie at Bon Marché. It goes without saying that Monoprix employees are far less pleasant than the nice people at the two fromageries where we shop, or the nice men at the produce stands that we like. Why Monoprix is so popular among Parisians is a mystery to me. Do they enjoy being mistreated? Maybe that’s it. The store is always crowded. Our new rule is “don’t go to Monoprix unless you have to.” We may make an exception for the “Monop” markets – much smaller, urban groceries that seem to be better operated than their big sisters. After that Monoprix experience, we did the remainder of our shopping for the day at Ed, where the new manager, a very tall, athletic, black man, is named “Moose,” according to his name badge. Moose is a good, helpful person. He treats each customer who has a question as if he has all the time in the world to answer it. And if a cashier makes a big mistake on the cash register, requiring him to come over and do a bit of reprogramming, he doesn’t seem to mind at all. The Ed cashiers are polite, and they don’t do annoying little things intentionally just to keep you waiting, as the customer-loathing cashiers at Monoprix do. I’m always super polite to rude cashiers, because I think that in the end, that annoys them. My good manners let them know that they haven’t pushed me over the edge yet. Speaking of being pushed over the edge, we saw another punishing stage of the Tour de France in the Pyranees, after we’d done the shopping. It made me tired to watch it. I fell asleep and missed the end. Oh well. Because it was Monday, we took a walk to dine at Banani, which so far is our favorite Indian restaurant in Paris. The korma sauce is the most refined that we’ve found in this city. The décor is darkly elegant, and the servers are always very professional and they treat us well. I did have a starter course, the pakora (eggplant beignets), which was expertly prepared. Tom ordered the lamb biryani, which he pronounced as delicious. I almost always order lamb korma, and I was glad I did so once again. On the Banani web site is an interesting account of their philosophy regarding Indian cuisine. Here’s a rough translation: The history of
Indian gastronomy originates in dark times.
A tumultuous succession of invaders kindled an unequaled diversity in
the rituals and infinitely varied culinary customs. However, the essence has been preserved, in
particular the judicious use of spices.
From the beginning to the end of the preparations, the cook applies
the spices – the fresh spices, and the dried spices – in order to give the
dish color and aroma as well as flavor. Three “families” are
recognized in Indian gastronomy:
vegetarian preparations; meats, poultry and fish cooked in sauce; and
the grilled dishes cooked in the Tandoori. A look at the
gastronomy gives an insight to the inexhaustible diversity of India, at the
overwhelming complexity of its cultural, religious, and historic heritage. All the preparations
contain a little folklore from this immense peninsula with all its soils,
climates, races, religions and customs.
There is a
regrettable confusion in the terms “spice” and “pepper.” In fact, with the hundreds of diverse
herbs, spices, and aromas used to compose the dishes, High Indian Cuisine
must never be very peppery, because the excess of pepper covers up the delicate
and subtle tastes that characterize Indian gastronomy. We do our best to try to represent a part
of the vast Indian gastronomy. Our
best compensation will be to please you. Banani received the Golden Fork award at some time in the past. It has been in business since 1986. After such a refined dinner, we came home in time to watch the sunset from the balcony. While it was not the same as sunset over the Gulf of Mexico, it was fairly spectacular, for Paris. Sign
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Tuesday, July 20, 2010
The
cyclist clown on the Pont Saint-Louis on Sunday.
The
cyclist clown flirts with this volunteer assistant, Cindy from California.
Kids
can ride donkeys in the Champ de Mars.
The
sun sets at the end of our street.
Sea
gulls litter the lawn at one end of the Tuileries. |
