Paris Journal 2008

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What a relief. We got through September 11 without any attacks. Now we have the Pope’s visit. When I told Barbara C. about that on Wednesday (she’s been out of touch, with jet lag), I could see that she was annoyed that the Pope’s visit could complicate her weekend plans. I can certainly understand. In fact, I think most Parisians don’t really care about the Pope’s visit. But plenty of them do care, and there will be mobs of people coming in from all over the country, I’m sure. Nothing seems too different yet. I just went out to the Nicolas wine shop, and so far we have just the normal neighborhood frenzy in the little streets north of Place Saint Sulpice. North of the Place and church is crazy; south of it, where we are, is serene. That area to the north of the Place and church have been crazy for centuries. In medieval times, it was the site of the Foire Saint Germain, a sprawling, ongoing, nonstop fair. From old maps I can see that the Foire used to have a big covered plaza of some kind. It caught on fire once, and the fire destroyed the Chapel of the Virgin in the Saint Sulpice church. That’s the lovely chapel at the far end of the church, beyond the altar. This happened in 1762, just as the church was nearing completion, and I’m sure it was disheartening to the parishioners to have to take on yet another lengthy construction/reconstruction project at that point. The Saint Germain market is, from what I can see on the old maps, a part of the old Foire’s site, and since it is a large covered market, it must be reminiscent of the old structure that burned. But this current market is built entirely of stone, something like travertine marble. This one will not burn easily. Now, of course, most of it has been converted into a swanky shopping center, with formula retail like Gap mixed with local shops. Included was, until this week, my favorite friendly Nicolas wine shop. One reason it was my favorite was that it also had a Nicolas café attached to it. At these cafés, one can have an inexpensive, light dinner, accompanied by a glass of wine perfectly selected to compliment the food, and the glass of wine is only a couple of Euros. But Nicholas is gone from the market. On Wednesday, the place was closed up and the staff was inside having lunch. There was a sign posted on the front saying that they’d be closed just for a day, Tuesday. The sign politely gave the addresses of two other Nicolas shops nearby (without cafés, alas). But it was Wednesday, and they were still closed. I knew something was wrong. Then today I went by and the place is not only closed, but the stock is gone from the shop and only a few stacked chairs and tables remain in the café. There was no longer a polite sign directing customers to the other Nicolas shops. I wonder if they skipped out on their lease? So, remembering the address of one of the shops from Wednesday’s sign, I walked on up to number 9 rue de Bucci. That street is one of the most popular pedestrianized streets in Paris. It is always buzzing with activity, even at 11:30 at night. I wouldn’t want to live there, but it is fun to stroll through there occasionally. I found the long and narrow Nicolas shop. It is adorable. There is very old wood paneling, built-in wood shelves and carved moldings everywhere. Three Danes were in line ahead of me, so I took my time looking around and selecting my purchases. I enjoyed listening to the Danes doing their business in English, of course. They were buying a couple expensive bottles of wine and some cognac, about which they had lots of questions which the shopkeeper valiantly tried to answer in English. After ringing up their purchase, he asked them if they wanted the cognac to be gift wrapped. They said yes. Then he asked them to wait while he rang up my purchases. I protested, saying I was not in a hurry and did not mind waiting. But he went ahead and served me anyway. While waiting for the credit card to process, I started chatting with the Danish man who was still in the shop (the women went out to the street), just to be friendly. I felt badly about him waiting. He’d just spent a lot of money. We had a nice talk, and he asked me if I was married to a French man since I speak French and I live in Paris every summer. I answered, “Ah, no, I’m married to a guy from South Carolina.” That seemed to startle the shopkeeper a little. I’m not sure why. I signed the credit card slip and said my gooddays to the Dane and the shopkeeper, and I was sure to tell the shopkeeper that his English was very good. He said, “Oh, I try!” He does indeed. I wanted to give him a gold star. Last night, during our stroll through the Luxemburg Gardens it started to rain. So we sat on a bench under some big trees, with our umbrellas open. After a while, I noticed that the dust from the park pathway was splattering up on our shoes and pants legs, so we moved on to the sidewalk next to the Garden of the Observatory and stood in a deep doorway until the rain let up. By then, it was nearing dinner hour so we walked on to the boulevard Montparnasse. Finally, I was able to talk Tom into allowing us to try the Corsican restaurant that I’ve been noticing: Restaurant L’abri Côtier, 145 blvd. Montparnasse, tel. 01-43-26-03-89. Everything about it just looks right to me: very clean restaurant, clean windows, no English menu posted, interesting selections on the menu (not just the same old thing), run by a married couple, locals eating there, food looks good, prices are right, etc. The dinner was a huge success. Tom ordered the three course dinner at €18, and I ordered the one at €26 because I wanted the escargot and sea bass. First, there was no pretentiousness about our wandering in without a reservation. We were warmly welcomed, wet and dust-splattered as we were. Well trained by Madame at Le Blavet, we immediately put our wet umbrellas in the umbrella stand. We were given a nice table, with a view out to the boulevard. The tables are not crowded together here. The décor is pleasant, including old wood floors made from oak planks that are each over a foot wide. At a side window, there is a large aquarium with live lobsters in it. You can select your victim there, if you want lobster. Instead, Tom had a charcuterie plate for a starter course, meat lover that he is. It was the best charcuterie plate he’s been served in Paris. Of course, the Corsicans are famous for their charcuterie. Then he had an escalope de volaille, a chicken scaloppini, which came with a wonderful sauce, beautifully light-golden sautéed potato slices, and delicate, thin French green beans. The chicken, all white meat, was moist and tender. I had profiteroles des escargots, and they were delicious. There had to be more than a dozen escargots. Most were tucked, two by two, into the little globular profiterole pastries, a little smaller than golf balls. Some escargots were loose, on their own, sitting in the pool of béarnaise sauce that filled the surface of the triangular plate. I would have used my fork to mop up every bit of this excellent sauce with bits of bread, but then I would not have enjoyed my main course. The main course was dos de bar, or Mediterranean sea bass, perfectly grilled and served atop a tasty pile of mixed vegetables which were sitting in a less extensive pool of the same béarnaise sauce, which must be a house specialty. Tom just had ice cream for dessert, but he said it was very good. I had the tulipe de fruits rouges which came with dollops of a mint ice. The presentation was colorful and whimsical. The tulipe, of course, was an artful little pastry dish, in the shape of a tulip, which held the fruit and some cream. As we often do, we walked home the long way, down the boulevard Montparnasse and up the rue de Rennes, stopping at the HSBC for cash. Sign my guestbook. View my guestbook.

Friday, September 12, 2008 The fountain in the Marco Polo garden. Propped-up, gnarly old tree in the Luxemburg Gardens. Treetops over our heads as we walk through the Luxemburg Gardens. A section of the lawn in the Luxemburg Gardens is posted so that high school kids know where they’re allowed to sit after school… But most of the lawn is forbidden. Fierce lion on the fountain at the Place Saint Sulpice. Architectural drawings in the Saint Sulpice church (above and below) show how the church was built around and over an older, medieval church called Saint Sulpice des Pres. Statue of Saint Anthony of Padua in the Saint Sulpice church. (Sorry my church pics are blurry, but I will not use a flash in a church.)

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