Paris Journal 2013 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com
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We had no idea what it was that would make this Bastille Day memorable
until we’d started our evening walk down the avenue Émile Zola. Many people were walking in the opposite direction. They were headed to the Champ de Mars to try
to find a place to stake out for the evening’s fireworks. (To get a space, one should really be there
before 3PM, but the fireworks start shortly after 11PM.) Over in the 5th arrondissement,
Suzanne was wondering where everyone had gone. Over in the 15th, we saw that
everyone was coming here. The western
half of Paris was growing heavy with humanity. After we’d worked our way through the complicated and busy Charles
Michels intersection, we planned to check out the vacation schedule, assuming
it was posted, on one of our longtime favorite restaurants, Oh! Duo. We knew the restaurant would not be open on
a Sunday or Monday, because Rungis
is closed on those days. But we were
thinking we’d very much like to dine there on Tuesday. As we approached, I noticed that no menu at all was posted in the glass
case by the front door. That’s
odd. One was there last weekend. When we were near the door, it suddenly opened. We were face-to-face with Joel Valero, the
chef. He was dressed as if he’d been
cleaning, not cooking. He was as
surprised to see us as we were to see him.
We joyfully greeted him, and he enthusiastically greeted us, shaking our
hands, and calling out for Françoise, his wife, to come quickly. Tom asked them if they were preparing to go on vacation. This would have been a little earlier than
usual, we thought, but not unheard of.
Many Parisians begin their vacations in July. “Pas de vacances,” Joel
said. “Retraite,” he exclaimed. They both were smiling brillliantly.
They explained that they’d sold the restaurant, and would be signing
the documents in a couple weeks. Then
retirement would begin for them. “Ou?” I asked. “A
Paris?” No, Françoise explained, their retirement would be in Champagne country,
in Épernay. How glorious. She said they’d now
have the opportunity to visit
Paris, since they would not be so busy working. She said that she’d left a long message of explanation on their phone
machine, to tell their customers what was happening. She thought perhaps we’d heard it. But we had not. We were surprised, but not really.
We knew that Joel and Françoise had been in business there for over 20
years (it turns out to be 28 years).
And we knew they were of retirement age. We were sad for us, and very happy for them. I told them that retirement was great for
us, and it would be for them, too.
Françoise heartily agreed. Then I said we had so may good memories of dining at Oh! Duo. She acknowledged this, and then she and I
nearly broke down in tears. It was a
very emotional moment. Tom asked about their son, whom we remembered as a very young man. He’s married now, they said, and they have
a 4-year-old grandson. We thanked them profusely.
Françoise and I hugged and did the French double air-kiss thing. Bisous. (Normally, we just shake hands.) We wished them the very best, said goodbye, and went on our way. Our hearts were a little heavy, but we were
so very happy for Joel and Françoise.
They did it! They ran a
successful French restaurant and did it all so well, for an entire
career. Bravo! Well done! At least this time we had the chance to say farewell. This is what we will remember about
Bastille Day 2013. Au revoir to the duo Valero.
(Photo by clubgastronomiqueprospermontagne.blogspot.com) Practically choking with emotion, we walked down the rue du Capitaine
Menard twoard the Parc André Citroën. Earlier
in the day, we’d watched the grand military parade, the annual media
interview with President Hollande, and the Tour de France on TV, so it felt
very good to be out. Although I must
say, each one of those French National TV experiences was fascinating, as
usual. After July is over, we probably
won’t watch TV at all for a couple months! It was a beautiful day, but one of the great things about the apartment
is that with its French doors and long balcony, along with the southern
exposure and the awnings, we can enjoy a beautiful day beautifully without
going out. However, we had a two-hour walk in the evening, mostly in the park. That lower part of the 15th
arrondissement is very densely populated, and many medium-rise apartment
buildings stand fairly close together.
Almost all of their occupants seemed to be either in the Parc André
Citroën or on their way to the Champ de Mars. Children by the hundreds were playing in the park, most of them in the
large dancing waters fountain near the greenhouses. Playing in this fountain is allowed when
the weather is warm. One of the greenhouses was open, with no plants inside but some strange
modern art on display instead. After
inspecting that, we strolled up the southern edge of the park and paused in
the terraced garden at the western corner. When we crossed the central core of the park, with its long lawn
stretching from the riverfront to the greenhouses, we could observe a long
swath of green speckled with people all over it. In the middle, the hot air balloon
rested. The breezes were too strong
for it to go up. Picnics were being had all over the place. Paris was very warm. We headed for the shade in the northern
corner. Then we worked our way down
the north side of the park through the series of picturesque gardens until
finally we reached the odd corner where we’d entered the park. I found a different way to leave the park, and to go toward the avenue
Félix Faure. We discovered a charming
old building there that we’d never seen before. We also walked through an intensive cluster of medium-rise residential
buildings and saw almost nobody there. Emerging out on the avenue Félix Faure again, we were once again seeing
lots of people headed in the direction of the Champ de Mars. We walked that way, too, for a little
while, until we reached our destination:
Restaurant Axuria. This restaurant has been a good one for us ever since it opened a few
years ago – always good, except for one time when we took some friends
there. The problem then was a
not-so-good server. And of course,
that server is long gone now. Instead, three young men were expertly working in the dining room, and
the kitchen was performing I top form.
Everything was perfect.
Ambiance. Service. Food. We were pleasantly surprised to be given a mis en bouche of a little glass filled with a spicy fish soup – a
bisque, really. After all, we’d
already been given a small plate with some delicious slices of saucisson and two tiny
cheese-puff-like rolls. I guess that
was just to accompany our “apperatif,”
a bottle of sparkling water. On the blackboard was a special of the day, seiche, for which I could not remember the meaning. I guessed that it was some sort of fish,
because that is one of the restaurant’s specialities. So I asked.
The server said it was like a calamar. Squid, I realized! (Bobtail squid, to be precise.) While that
was intriguing, I also noted the raie
(skate) on the menu, and decided to order that instead. Tom ordered the lamb noisette. Both main courses were absolutely delicious,
but what was also amazingly good were the vegetables, which arrived in a
separate side dish. I do remember the
vegetables always being good at Axuria, but these were especially tasty, just
exploding with flavor and gentle seasoning, along with just the right amount
of olive oil and butter.
Exquisite! Bravo, Chef Olivier
Amestoy! Another of Axuria’s specialities (besides seafood and milk-fed lamb) is
the soufflé Grand Marnier. We each ordered one. It was a holiday, after all! The soufflé
was heavenly, comme d’habitude. By the time we left the restaurant, the hords moving toward the Champ de
Mars were growing. We moved with them
until we reached our street, which was one of the few streets on which
vehicular traffic was still allowed that evening. That’s partly because there is a public
parking garage about a block away from us; those foolish enough to attempt to
drive into Paris to see the fireworks were encouraged to park and walk the
rest of the way. Soon, the traffic was backed up all the way down the street. Occasionally, a driver would honk in
frustration. We decided to sit on our
balcony and observe the consternation and movement below. Tom gave up on that before I did. I saw the hot air balloon rise from the
Parc André Citroën. The breezes died,
and the evening was calm – except for the people in the streets and the
swallows zooming around the rooftops, squealing delightfully all the way. But then even I decided to go in and read for an hour until it was time
for the fireworks. We don’t like crowds normally, but now crowds are something that Tom is
supposed to avoid, just as he is avoiding eating raw foods. We can see the fireworks above the rooftops
from our kitchen and bathroom windows.
My favorite spot for watching the show is standing in the dry bathtub,
with the window wide open. After a spectacular show, we could hear hooting and hollering and
cheering coming from here and there, we couldn’t tell exactly where, as we
looked out over the rooftops – a scene right out of the movie Ratatouille. Ah Paris. Je t’aime. |
Monday, July 15, 2013
The
terraced garden in the western corner of the Parc André Citroën.
A
charming building we’d never seen before (perhaps on the rue Varet), near the Parc André Citroën.
Interior
of Axuria.
The restaurant became fairly busy shortly after this moment.
The
raie
(skate) at Axuria was accompanied by a delicious
rice pilaf that was more like risotto, topped by tangy sun-dried tomato
slices and a frothy sabayon sauce.
A
noisette
of milk-fed lamb, with mushrooms and a potato concoction.
The
incomparable soufflé Grand Marnier
at Axuria. |
