Paris Journal 2008

Sign my guestbook. View my guestbook. ←Previous Next → Barbara’s home page

We had a Saturday off – no work to do, so we spent it like many Parisians do. First, we both went to the grocery. Not too exciting, but very necessary at that point. Then we went about fixing a plumbing leak, a very slow one, that we had discovered the day before. That day, we could find no tools so Tom had to e-mail Ron, the apartment owner, to find out how to get a key to the other apartment they own, where the tools are stored. Tom started out using the channel locks to tighten the joint and, of course, it made the leak worse. This is how it usually goes when Tom works on plumbing – maybe it is that way for everyone, I don’t know. Fortunately, I’d already determined where the water shut-off was located, so that wasn’t a problem. But at that point we were really committed to fixing this leak because we had no water in the kitchen and one of the bathrooms. Tom took the joint apart and found a disintegrated washer, which, by the way, is called a “joint fibre” in French. I sat at the computer and looked up the nearest hardware stores in the French online yellow pages. Aha, there was one on the rue de Fleurus, which we must have walked by the evening before, but we hadn’t noticed. So we had a lovely but short little walk through a corner of the Luxemburg Gardens and over to the cute hardware store on the rue de Fleurus, Gertrude Stein territory. We didn’t know yet what a washer was called in French, so we attempted to find it on our own. I did find the Teflon tape (I love that stuff!), but we had to ask about the washer. Tom did a good job explaining to the shopkeeper what we were looking for. He used one end of a hand-held shower cord (with washer attached) to explain what we needed. The shopkeeper went over to some bins and pulled out a box of assorted washers – just the ticket! Within minutes, we were back in the apartment and Tom fixed the leak, lickety split. So then we were free to go out and play, just like other people do on weekends. We walked up to the brasserie called Les Pres aux Clercs and had onion soup (me) and terrine (Tom) for lunch. Then we walked along the rue Jacob, window shopping, until we came to an antique and decorating fabric shop that we’d visited a couple years ago. There Madame was as talkative once again as we found that she was a couple years ago. We must have been there for over an hour, chatting with her. She has a daughter and son-in-law plus two grandchildren living in Connecticut, so she knows how to speak English and she has the chance to practice it with her grandchildren. But she needed a fix, and she wanted to practice with us. She did speak English for a little while, then she drifted right back into French, because, why bother, she knew we could understand her. And indeed we could. Her French is very correct and precise, and she enunciates well. We talked about everything – politics, books, the French language and how it is abused, computers, her family, the economy, you name it. We spoke French, but when one of us came to some difficult concept that was hard to express in French, we used the English and she was quite pleased with this. Finally she had some serious customers who needed her help, so we said our goodbyes but she made us promise to come back and see her again this month so she could visit with us and show us the upstairs of her shop. She did not remember us from a couple years ago, of course, when we did see the upstairs. There is an intact 18^th century or earlier kitchen in that level. It is fascinating. We look forward to seeing it, and Madame, again. We walked around a little more after that, but we were pretty exhausted. After I showed Tom the quaint Nicolas shop that I’d found on the rue de Buci, we went home for a rest. Then we went out again in the evening, for a walk through the Luxemburg Gardens until the gendarmes told us it was time to leave. We then went around the end of the park to the Gardens of the Observatory. When we finished walking through those, we went over to the rue St. Jacques at Val de Grace. Continuing on toward the Seine, I thought we might check out the Eric et Cie restaurant we’d passed days earlier. But something else caught our eyes and ears first: Le Café Universel. This café has almost no food. It really is a little jazz club. What we heard was the Margeaux Lampley Quartet doing a sound check. It was only 8:30, and the concert wasn’t to start until 9:30, but it was clear the staff really wanted us to come in. After deliberating a few minutes, we did, and they were all smiles. We had a drink and listened to the rest of the sound check, which sounded promising. We decided to stay, and so we ordered croques and salad (only €5.40 each) to eat before the concert. Margeaux is a suberb American jazz vocalist – very much like a black Diana Krall. The drummer, Olivier Robin, was outstanding. The bass player, Jean Luc Arramy, was very good. And the pianist, Olivier Hutman, was excellent. The little club filled up. It more than filled up. It was packed enough to throw an American fire marshall into a burst of outrage. We were pretty much hemmed into our little spot, but we didn’t mind. We had the best seats in the little house. We enjoyed it immensely, because the music was so good. There was no cover charge, and the problem with that is that there were too many young people who were there just to make the scene, not to listen, and they made too much noise with their constant chatter. This particularly bothered the 50-something-year-old man sitting in front of us, who vainly tried to shush the young women to his left. After the first set was over, we squeezed our way out of this medieval hole in the wall and walked home. The night before, we ate at L’Abri Côtier again. This time, we both had the 18 euro three-course menu. Tom had his charcuterie plate again, then a steak (faux filet) which was, alas, tasty, tender, and generous. He was in meat-lover heaven. Imagine, a really good steak in France as part of a three-course menu that is only 18 euros! It is unthinkable! Then he had the home-made tarte tatin (deep-dish upside-down apple pie) and it was unbelievably good. This may be one of the top three best apple pies I’ve ever tasted. The apple taste was almost overwhelming. I had a shrimp terrine served with a tomato coulis, which was delightful, then the choucroute du pêcheur. This was an assortment of fish and one large shrimp, served atop a pile of sauerkraut. I know that sounds weird, but it was really very good. For dessert, I had profiteroles au chocolat, a wonderful dessert for a chocolate and whipped cream lover. Here’s a photo. Serving sizes were just right. Everything is just right about this place. I would have gone back for yet a third night in a row, but Tom thought that would be embarrassing, and besides, we weren’t that hungry last night. I should also mention our walk in the Luxemburg Gardens on Friday, because we spent more time looking at the temporary public art on display in the north end of the park, plus we went in the Orangerie to look at the Georges Briata exhibit (check out that web page!). Now this is modern art we can love. We bought a couple exhibition posters that feature great heron and egret-like birds. Sign my guestbook. View my guestbook.

Sunday, September 14, 2008 “The Pot of Legs in a Bouquet of Feet and of Calves,” 2007, by Robert Combas, is part of this year’s temporary public art on exhibit in the Luxemburg Gardens. More of this public art, below. Art made of plastic stuff, including spoons, flyswatters, and shuttlecocks. For some reason, someone put detergent in the Saint Sulpice fountain on Saturday morning. This was perhaps a way of commenting on the Pope’s visit.

←Previous Next →