Paris Journal 2012 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com
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Airparif called it a “pollution episode.” At the end of the day, when we left the apartment, the air outside was heavy and thick; it seemed to lack oxygen. That was because it had too much bad ozone. We decided that we needed to find a truly air conditioned restaurant for dinnertime. I say “truly air conditioned,” because there are a number of Parisian café managers who have the bad habit of turning on the air conditioning when it is very hot, but leaving the terrasse doors wide open. That’s wasteful. What’s also wasteful is how air conditioning is over-used in the U.S. I even try to keep a sweater on hand in my car in Florida because all too often, especially in restaurants, but also in stores, it is too darned cold inside even though it is hot outside. My favorite Sanibel restaurant, Traders, is not guilty of over-air conditioning. I generally do not need to take my extra sweater inside with me when I dine there. Last night, what I was looking for was a restaurant that was truly closed up, and air-conditioned. (We can’t eat at the Café du Commerce every night, after all!) I knew that there was not a chance that I’d need a sweater anywhere in Paris, however; that blatant over-airconditioning is simply not done here. I love the sound of the colloquialism used for “air conditioning” in France. The French word, “climatisation,” is shortened to “le clim,” pronounced “le kleem.” So cute! My initial idea was to go to beautiful Banani, the Indian restaurant. But I forgot that it is now closed on Sundays. In earlier years, I remember it being open seven days a week. Oh well. When we arrived at Banani, we saw that it was closed for Sunday. We turned back. We passed the church of Saint John the Baptist of Grenelle. An evening service, perhaps a contemporary service, had just let out, and a relatively young congregation were gathered here and there, around the church, socializing in groups on the sidewalk and in the square. Tom thought that the Thai restaurant called the Banyan, near the church on the avenue Félix Faure might be a good choice, because he remembered it usually having its doors and windows closed, even when it is open. But the Banyan was closed for vacation. We crossed the square in front of the church and headed for a combination Thai/Vietnamese/Chinese restaurant on rue Mademoiselle: the Bangkok Express. I remembered it as always having its doors and windows closed. I also like the display of Thai objects in the front windows. Sure enough, the menu posted on the façade contained the important phrase: une grande salle climatisée. A big, air conditioned dining room! We entered and a very small, smiling, older Asian woman greeted us and urged us to follow her through a warm, small dining room. We passed through a doorway into a cavernous dining room that was very comfortably air conditioned: not too hot, not too cold, but just right. And there were no windows. The walls were all painted deep red. On our left was an attractive bar made to look a bit like a pagoda. The woman led us to the other side of the room, to a big, comfortable booth. There was none of the overcrowding of tables that one finds all too often in Parisian restaurants. This place had space, and plenty of it. It wasn’t new either. I could tell by the wear and tear here and there that this restaurant has been around for a while. It wasn’t crowded, but one of the other booths was occupied by a distinguished, well-dressed, educated-looking, tall Asian couple. That was a good sign. Madame, the tiny Asian woman who seated us, took our drink order and then brought us complimentary kirs. We examined the menu. It was extraordinarily reasonably priced, and it was very long. It was organized into some categories that I didn’t have time to discern, but probably had to do with distinguishing Thai from Vietnamese, etc. In addition to the normal flatware, we were given chopsticks. I hadn’t used those in a while, and I was happy to see them. We studied the menu. Fish seems to be a specialty at the Bangkok Express, but I don’t order fish at an Asian restaurant until I know that I trust the place. This was our first visit to the Bangkok, so I thought I’d try something safer, like pork ribs cooked in five spices. With that, I ordered fried rice, which was delightful; it even had tiny shrimp in it. Tom ordered a different kind of pork, Cantonese rice (which was also very good), and some superb shrimp toasts. The grilled shrimp toasts reminded him of a party he once gave for his friend Murray, upon the occasion of Murray becoming department chair. Tom hired a young Thai woman to cater the event. She made and served delicious grilled shrimp toasts like those at the Bangkok Express. Where we were seated, we could hear the chef chopping away at things in the kitchen. That’s always a good sound – freshly prepared food. It was really too much food. Tom ordered dessert anyway (ice cream), and that was the only disappointment of the evening. Forget dessert. But dinner was oh so good at the Bangkok Express. At the end of the meal, Madame brought us some complimentary sake. It came in two very different looking cups – one glass, and one ceramic. I picked up the glass one, because it looked more feminine, with a blue filigree dragon design around the upper part of it. I looked down through the sake to the bottom of the glass. There was an image of a naked man, sitting cross legged! Tom looked into his cup of sake. At first he thought he saw a duck there. Then, on closer examination, he realized it was an image of a naked woman! We laughed and joked about this for a while. When our sake glasses were empty, the images disappeared into blurriness. You need liquid in the glass to bring the image into focus. Madame asked, with a wicked little smile on her face, if we wanted another round of sake. We smiled and said no thanks, but thank you very much for the first round; we enjoyed it. While we were dining, a group of seven people entered the restaurant. This appeared to be a middle-aged French professor who looked a lot like Teddy Roosevelt, his wife, and five graduate-student-age young women. The professor ordered, in French, for the entire table. Then the dinner conversation seemed to take place in Italian. It was interesting that a French man would choose to take his Italian students to an Asian restaurant while they were in Paris. We enjoyed our experience at the Bangkok so much that I am certain we will return. Today, Airparif is not predicting any “pollution episodes.” Yahoo Weather says the high temperature today will be a mere 85 degrees. In Sanibel, we might use air conditioning at 85 degrees, because of high humidity. But Paris is fairly dry. This summer especially, I have a lot of static electricity in my hair when I brush it. That almost never happens in Florida. In Paris, 85 degrees F is no cause for using air conditioning. When the air is clean and dry, 85 is simply perfect summer weather. |
Monday, August 20, 2012
The
Restaurant Bangkok Express, on rue Mademoiselle. It has the dubious honor of having one of
the areas designated for motorcycle parking in front of it. This does not mean it is a hangout for motorcycle gangs, however.
Asian
take-out deli on the rue du Commerce.
Blooms
in the wetland garden of the Musée du Quai Branly.
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