Paris Journal 2008

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Tom and I are enjoying the orderliness as well as the peace and quiet of this apartment in the 6th arrondissement.  I’m amazed at how much quieter it is than the place in the 15th.  The biggest difference is the level of street noise, but there is also less noise from neighbors.  The literary critic who would normally be playing his TV all night below us is mercifully gone on vacation.

 

I made another shopping foray out on my own this morning.  Champion has definitely become my grocery store.  Today, I found freshly baked pain de compagne, a country-style sourdough bread made with whole wheat flour.  It was still slightly warm when I touched it in the store.  This bread is so good, Champion could hurt the local bakeries seriously.

 

The atmosphere in all the groceries in the bustling 6th is different from that of the 15th.  There are many foreigners here, and people have different manners.  I have honed by old-fashioned Parisian manners of the non-touristy 15th arrondissement, and when I use them at the grocery checkout lines in the 6th, the cashiers are charmed.  I always say “bonjour madame” at the start, something that is common in the 15th but not as common in the 6th.  This is followed at the end of the checkout process with “Merci madame.  Bonne journée.  Au revoir.”  (Thank you m’am.  Have a good day.  See you next time.)  Even the most hardened, bitter, harried cashier warms up to this.

 

Sometimes in Paris it is hard to find the kind of crackers we are used to eating.  The French evidently eat a wide variety of hard sliced biscuits – they look like thin, round slices of bread but they’ve been hardened beyond belief.  I know the French must eat this stuff because there is so much of it on the grocery shelves, but I really don’t understand it.  These things are like melba toast only far worse.  They taste like crunchy, stiff cardboard infused with sawdust.

 

But alas, Champion carries little packages of Tuc, very good American-style crackers made by the Belgian company, LU, which is owned by Danone, the yogurt people.  I had to find the special place in Champion where the Tuc crackers are hidden (they are far away from the hard little biscuit slice things), but now I know.

 

Yesterday evening was cool and rainy so we did not want to stray far away.  We decided to finally try the little restaurant on the corner nearest the apartment, Au Bon Saint-Pourçain.  We’d been told a few years ago that it wasn’t good, but we now realize that we sometimes have different opinions about restaurants than the couple who warned us against this one. 

 

Au Bon Saint-Pourçain is different from most Parisian restaurants.  For one thing, the establishment does not accept credit cards.  We knew that going in, so we had plenty of cash.

 

The décor is authentic 1950s bistro.  As several reviewers have noted, this place could be a movie set.  A charming bistro in a charming setting.

 

It is run by two men, François Bonduel and Franck Pasquet, and  François’s daughter, Fabienne.  They don’t dress up at all.  In fact, Fabienne looks like an American college girl, but even more casual - - - blue jeans, t-shirt, long and loose unbrushed hair, not a speck of makeup.

 

You’d think that with this kind of casual attire and no credit cards, the prices must be low.  But they aren’t.  Every main course is priced at €20, except the sole meuniere which is €30.  Starter courses are €8.  Not expensive, but not inexpensive.

 

The wine offered is, of course, Saint-Pourçain.  It is a light red wine, mostly gamay grapes with some pinot noir.  (At certain times of year, they serve a white Saint-Pourçain.)  They bring a bottle to your table, and you only pay for as much as you drink.  Half a bottle is €8.  Not bad.  (By the way, François brings you a small, complimentary glass of this wine the moment he seats you at a table.)

 

We decided it was best to order the special of the day, partly because if one isn’t sure about the quality of food in a restaurant, the daily special is usually the best bet; but also because Fabienne recommended it to us when we asked her for her recommendation.

 

She speaks English, and her father does not.  She must be the one who is responsible for the restaurant’s web site (link above), which has an English version.  Check it out.  The photos are good.

 

But of course we spoke French with her.

 

The special that we each had was, once again, émincé de veau.  I know I’ve had veal three nights in a row now, but darn, this was really good and I don’t regret it one bit.  It came with a wonderful, elegant herb and tomato-based fine sauce, vegetables, and rice. 

 

One of the remarkable aspects of this restaurant is the clientele.  It is obvious that the place has a loyal following, all of whom go on vacation in August yet the restaurant stays open (except for a few days in the middle of the month). 

 

I found the mix of people in the dining room to be interesting.  This is a classy bunch of French folk, very casually dressed, and smart-looking.  Some reviewers say celebrities eat here.  Some mention legislators from the nearby Senat, or intellectuals from the Sorbonne.  One reviewer claims that the reason they don’t accept credit cards is to maintain anonymity for the clientele. 

 

The reviews that I’ve been able to find are mixed.  Some refer to the nervous or erratic behavior of François.  The other proprietor, Franck Pasquet, is in the kitchen cooking, I believe.  Some reviewers have claimed that occasionally the food is not so good.  Others won’t eat anywhere else when they come to Paris.

 

We’ve passed François many times, of course, on our way to and from the apartment.  He recognizes us from that, and we say “bonjour monsieur” when we see him.  He says “bonjour” to us, too, but often with a curious puppy-dog look on his face.   It is as if he is wondering why we don’t stop to eat at his restaurant.

 

So when we arrived, even without a reservation, he quickly gave us a nice table.  He assigned Fabienne to be our server since she knows some English, but he really didn’t have to do that.  Anyway, it was clear to me that he wanted to make a good impression. 

 

So did Fabienne.  When we paid our bill, she would not let us leave without taking one of the restaurant’s very cute cards.

 

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Luxembourg Gardens.

 

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Wednesday, September 3, 2008

 

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Window at the Musee de Cluny.

 

tuc.jpg

Good American-style crackers.

 

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Card for Au Bon Saint-Pourçain.

 

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A carving on the Musée de Cluny.

 

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Purple door at the Musée de Cluny.

 

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