Paris Journal 2014 – Barbara Joy Cooley      Home: barbarajoycooley.com

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We’d already enjoyed a starter course of boudin noir with pears and red pepper, and were waiting for the next course, when a group of six people entered the restaurant Axuria.  Even before we heard their voices, I knew they were Americans. 

 

They didn’t all arrive together, but three or four of them came very soon after the first two or three.  There were introductions all around, and then they settled into seats around the table next to ours.

 

Their voices were mostly Midwestern, but two were Southerners, including the man who was sitting next to me on the banquette.  I’d already figured that he was from the Carolinas, but as he and his wife spoke to each other, it was clear to us that they live in North Carolina, because they were mentioning colleges there, and the town of Winston-Salem, where they live.

 

The man near me (unnamed to protect privacy) started a conversation with us by apologizing for hanging over our table as he was getting into his seat.  He started off in French, and we responded in English, “not a problem at all.”  He was friendly.

 

So Tom, who normally doesn’t want to start up conversations with Americans in Parisian restaurants, extended his hand and introduced himself to the man, and then to his wife.  I did the same.

 

We learned that the man is originally from South Carolina, like Tom, and I’d say that he and Tom are about the same age.  Tom has lost most of his accent, but this man had that thick, gentile, gentlemanly, South Carolina accent that I find utterly charming. 

 

We all talked about interesting things, like food and books.  We all agreed that David McCullough’s The Greater Journey:  Americans in Paris is a fine tome. 

 

The man asked me what we’d had as a starter course.  I told him it was blood sausage with poached pears and some red pepper with a little green salad, and that if he’s an adventuresome eater, he’d really like it.  He did order that, and he loved it.  I was pleased.

 

He also ordered the same main course that I had, the filet de bar (sea bass), which, I had explained, was a little different from the sea bass that we get in the U.S., but that it is a really fine fish – something in between the sea bass we know and sole. 

 

Tom told him that the vegetables that are exceptionally good at Axuria.  Everything we told him turned out to be true, which was a relief, because any restaurant can have a bad night.  It was Sunday night, after all, and we weren’t sure if Chef Olivier Amestoy himself was in the kitchen, or if the chef of the night was one of his well-trained subordinates.

 

Whoever was down there, he/she was doing a fine job.  Olivier normally pops upstairs to the dining room from time to time; he likes to see diners’ reactions to the food.  But we didn’t see him last night.

 

Tom ordered the veal chop, a special of the day.  It was generous and delicious.

 

We finished by sharing one of the incomparable Soufflés Grand Marnier that Axuria offers.  In my experience, nobody does it better, when it comes to this classic dessert.

 

I should mention that the reason we usually share starter courses and desserts is not to reduce the costs of our dinners; it is to reduce the amount of food to something closer to what we can consume.  We can each eat the equivalent of two courses, but usually not three.  Yet if one of us orders a starter course, and one orders dessert, and we share, then we both get to experience all three courses.  When we were younger, we could eat more.  Almost all the restos understand this fact, and usually bring us extra spoons or forks without us even asking, so we can share.  The servers also frequently offer an additional plate.  They’re so nice!

 

Earlier in the day, we’d walked up to the Musée du Quai Branly, mostly to enjoy the garden.  We’d forgotten that it was the first Sunday of the month, meaning that admission to the museum was free. 

 

The place was mobbed.  The line of people waiting to enter was as long as the lines were in the first summer that the museum was open (2006).  We entered the crowded gift shop anyway, to see if there were any additional good deals on sets of 10 jazz CDs.  We did find one, a set of 10 Latin jazz CDs with music performed by jazz legends like Dizzy Gillespie, Art Blakey, Herbie Mann, Woody Herman, and more.

 

Tom purchased the set and our supply of great music to listen to after dinner grew once again.  (The earlier set of 10 jazz CDs that I bought for him on my walk with Caroline were a big hit, as far has he’s concerned.)

 

We found a quiet corner of the garden to rest in, over near the amphitheater.  The maturing of the vegetation provides ample shade and places to sit in that end of the garden.

 

Then we walked on, noting that all the entrances to the museum/garden were closed off, except for the one over near the gift shop and museum entrance.  I surmised that this is a security measure taken on days when the crowd of people at the museum is large.

 

Sunday is a good day to walk through the 7th arrondissement because automobile traffic is almost nonexistent on the cross streets like rue de l’Université.  So we walked that street up to the rue Surcouf, which looked charming in the afternoon sun.

 

I remembered that I read something good about one of the little restos on that street.  Maybe if we walked by it, I’d remember which one it was?

 

And I did.  The place is called La Mère Michèle, at 26 rue Surcouf.  La Mère has received really good reviews on TripAdvisor, LaFourchette, Google, etc.  We’ll probably go sometime to enjoy its Mediterranean cuisine, but our only hesitation is that the place is so very small, the few tables are quite crowded together.

 

We turned back toward home on the rue Saint Dominique – one of the few shopping streets in the 7th.  Now that it is a Sunday in August, the busy sidewalks are a little more navigable and pleasant.  We enjoyed the window shopping.

 

Tom always wants to walk down the rue Cler, and so we did.  The terrasses of the restos there were filling up with people who wanted to quench their late afternoon thirst.  Rue Cler is touristy, but fun because it is charming, and dedicated to pedestrians.

 

Tom stepped into a bakery on the avenue de la Motte Picquet to buy himself a snack – some curled almond wafer-thin cookies that are called “tuiles” because they vaguely resemble curved, ceramic roofing tiles.  They were good, but not nearly as good as the ones he bought in a bakery on rue Vaugirard in the 6th last year.

 

Tom was especially footsore by the time we reached the apartment, so we rested for a while, then dressed for dinner, which I’ve already told you about.

 

And so we begin another week here, of working and walking and dining.  As my grandmother used to say, “It’s a great life if you don’t weaken.”

 

Peace.

 

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Monday, August 4, 2014

 

Trees with pink flower lights flank the entrance to a women’s clothing consignment shop on the rue de l’Universite.

 

Another cute old Citroën truck parked on the Champ de Mars.  This isn’t part of someone’s “collection;” this is a real working man’s truck with real tools and stuff in the back.

 

The Peace Pavilion in front of the Military School on the Champ de Mars.  What was originally intended to be a temporary pavilion is now permanent.  Who wants to be the one to order the removal of the Peace Pavilion, after all?

 

We still see roses blooming, like these on the Champ de Mars, even in August.

 

Elegant window/balcony details on a building between the Champ de Mars and the avenue de la Bourdonnais.

 

 

Sea bass filet and veggies (above) and veal chop and veggies and potatoes (below) at Restaurant Axuria on the avenue Félix Faure.

 

 

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