Paris Journal 2010 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com

Photos and thoughts about Paris

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A few days ago, I read in a French newspaper that there is a photographic exhibition going on in the Théâtre Nationale de l’Odéon. The newspaper blurb simply described it as photos of hotels, inside and out. (Note that the theatre’s web site, link above, says it is one of five national theatres in France, while Wikipedia says it is one of six. I wonder what the discrepancy is about?) The weather was cool and damp yesterday, so we decided to go see the exhibition. When we entered the theatre lobby, there was only a security guard and a young woman present. We said bonjour and that we came to see the exhibition of photos. I think the guard was angling to take us since he speaks English and the young woman does not. But she insisted on taking us through the exhibition. The theatre management does not want people wandering through unaccompanied. I can see why. For one thing, you need an explanation of the exhibit as you go through, because each photograph (some are huge) is carefully placed to relate its content to its surroundings. The show was very cleverly presented. But also, the theatre was so lavishly restored several years ago that it is like a museum inside. It is beautiful. And unlike a museum, no guards are posted in the various rooms. Our young guide was very enthusiastic, and her French was clearly enunciated, even if she did speak too quickly. We understood her well enough. She even asked us questions about a few photos to be sure we understood. I answered her questions in English, because she understood that well, and I don’t think she would want to wait for my slower French. That reminds me that the day before, when I went to get the newspapers at the presse shop, a fairly young American woman was talking to the Asian-French proprietors of the shop. The American was speaking in clear, loud English, and the proprietors were speaking back to her in French. The American evidently lives in a nearby apartment, and the discussion was about habitation taxes that she has to pay, as well as income taxes because she works in France. This system of each speaking his/her native tongue to the other seems to facilitate conversation, provided that the other has some listening comprehension of the foreign language being spoken. The exhibition at the theatre was supposed to be free, but at the end of the tour, I thought we’d make a donation to whatever organization there was to support the theatre. There is none. It is a national theatre in the true sense of the word; it is totally taxpayer supported (other than income from ticket sales). That is very French. So we ended up giving a 10 euro tip to our young, enthusiastic tour guide. While the exhibition was very interesting and well presented, we were mostly thrilled to see the inside of the theatre, including the very lavish second floor with its bar, lounge, fancy furniture, paintings, elaborate moldings, chandeliers, etc. Afterwards, we were hungry, and I remembered from last summer that I’d spotted a brasserie that I wanted to try, but we never got around to it last year. It is on the rue Soufflot, the main approach to the Panthéon from the direction of the Luxembourg Gardens. We walked up there, and voila! There it was. Just like in my memory. A very real, regular brasserie called the Soufflot Café. Just like I remembered, it was almost full of people from the neighborhood, even though this is a fairly touristy and student area. And, just like I remembered, the servers are friendly and most welcoming. I ordered the roasted chicken accompanied by salad and fries. Tom had the beef-and-vegetable brochette and béarnaise sauce, plus huge serving of pommes grenailles (roasted small white potatoes). I fully expected the chicken to be the leg, but it was a Frenched breast instead. It came with a delicious sauce based on its cooking juices, served on the side. The fries were hand-cut, big, hot and not the least bit greasy. The salad was small, fresh, and served with a tasty bit of vinaigrette. There is a terrace with about 30 seats. The part of the interior where we were seated includes the bar, and it is a regular, not-dolled-up brasserie. The other end of the interior, however, is a library with dark wood bookcases built onto the walls, complete with books and comfortable looking chairs and tables. We will try to sit there next time. Wines are not only served by the glass, but there is an extensive list of wines by the glass, and the glasses are available in three sizes, priced accordingly and reasonably. There’s a small 7 cl, a medium 14 cl, and a big 25 cl. Inexplicably, the mineral water only comes in the small size bottle. Our server spoke excellent English to us, even though we spoke French. The truth is, I’m so used to ordering in French in a brasserie or restaurant, that it is easier for me to do that than to think of the right words in English. It takes me a few days to get over this when we return to the U.S. But I appreciated our server’s talent, and his friendliness. His service was almost too fast. I think Le Soufflot is going to become our “neighborhood pub” when we’re in the 6^th. Sign my guestbook. View my guestbook. Note: For addresses & phone numbers of restaurants in this journal, click here. And here’s the 2009 Paris Journal.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010 A nice courtyard in the 5^th arrondissement. A window in the Saint Sulpice church. Antiques shop near the Senate that has a façade which looks like a piece of fine furniture itself. Le Danton, a nice-looking brasserie-restaurant on the boulevard Saint Germain. ← Previous Next →