3.30.2005
paris
Times reflect the local time in Paris. Due to circumstances beyond my control, but generally regarding not being able to find internet access for my laptop, I was unable to update my blog posts live. Blog postings reflect, thus, the time and date that I wrote the entries, but all of them were posted back here in Oxford on Monday night.
Paris looks great even when it’s raining. It’s difficult not to love Paris, really. We flew in early this afternoon and the weather was gray but not rainy, a seriously welcome change from the drudgery of recent Oxford weather. Finding the hotel was easy enough, and Let’s Go Paris (an excellent publication) has been very helpful. We wandered outside and by the time we got to Les Invalides, the sun was sort of shining through the clouds. Just walking down the street, there’s so much incredible architecture. We passed by a beautiful Romanesque church: the church of Ste. Francois Xavier. The interior actually had little panels for each of the stations of the cross, the altar was amazingly ornate, and the interior of the dome at the transept was very densely ornamented. At the four corners were the four major prophets, over them, the eight minor prophets. Then on the interior of the dome itself were painted the twelve apostles. Not surprisingly, Barnabas had been substituted in for Judas. Les Invalides was closed when we arrived, but the gardens outside were a beautiful introduction to the parks of Paris.
On our way to Les Invalides, we were remarking how much of the architecture and the quiet streets could have been Boston’s Back Bay or New York’s Upper East side when suddenly we turned a corner and saw, over the rooftops, the tip of the Eiffel Tower. Certainly not something you see in America’s northeast.
The tower certainly doesn’t disappoint, and even though it’s my third time seeing it (consciously, there was a fourth when I was little, and while I have the drawing to prove that I saw it, I don’t actually remember it), it still takes my breath away. It certainly has a grace and style that is timeless and a sweep that is both elegant and remarkably structural. Unfortunately at that point, it started to rain. We walked to the underside of the tower and waited for the rain to subside, then went off in search of food.
Dinner was a lovely Italian affair at the Ristorante dell’ Angelo. I had a delicious spaghetti alio e olio e pepperoncino. Diana had the rigatoni arrabiata. We split a mixed appetizer, which was amazing. The spaghetti was just as I’d remembered it (from Italy, not as I remember cooking it myself – that was pretty awful): it was light, with a little hit of spice and then overwhelming garlic flavor. I have no doubt I’m going to smell of garlic for at least another day or two. Diana’s rigatoni was spicy and flavorful, not really my thing, but lovely nonetheless. I preferred my Chianti to her Bordeaux, but again, I think that just comes down to personal preference. The cheese platter (parmesan, gorgonzola, and some odd creamy goat cheese) was amazing. The parmesan, by far my favorite, had a real sweetness to it, completely unlike the sharp parmesan I’m used to from the US. The gorgonzola, again, was unlike what I was used to – creamy and pungent without being too sharp. Delicious. The goat cheese reminded me a lot of brie, but with a much stronger goats milk flavor. These were all served with a few shreds of lettuce drizzled in a really fruity and tasty extra-virgin olive oil and, inexplicably, a pat of butter, which I mistook for cheese, eating a large chunk of it plain. It is certainly true that French butter tastes unlike any other. Having never eaten butter of any nationality on its own, I can say that this French butter tasted much more strongly of butter than of cheese, which was what I was expecting. Seems natural, in retrospect, that butter should taste like butter.
A trip back to the Eiffel tower after dark was gorgeous too – at night it’s a beautiful bronze color, but there’s also a wonderful sparkle that happens every hour – flashbulbs start to go off and the entire tower starts to shimmer. It’s amazingly gorgeous, and was a real sight. Thankfully, the rain had stopped and we were able to linger and take in the tower. It’s been a long day, and I’m so looking forward to tomorrow.
Paris looks great even when it’s raining. It’s difficult not to love Paris, really. We flew in early this afternoon and the weather was gray but not rainy, a seriously welcome change from the drudgery of recent Oxford weather. Finding the hotel was easy enough, and Let’s Go Paris (an excellent publication) has been very helpful. We wandered outside and by the time we got to Les Invalides, the sun was sort of shining through the clouds. Just walking down the street, there’s so much incredible architecture. We passed by a beautiful Romanesque church: the church of Ste. Francois Xavier. The interior actually had little panels for each of the stations of the cross, the altar was amazingly ornate, and the interior of the dome at the transept was very densely ornamented. At the four corners were the four major prophets, over them, the eight minor prophets. Then on the interior of the dome itself were painted the twelve apostles. Not surprisingly, Barnabas had been substituted in for Judas. Les Invalides was closed when we arrived, but the gardens outside were a beautiful introduction to the parks of Paris.
On our way to Les Invalides, we were remarking how much of the architecture and the quiet streets could have been Boston’s Back Bay or New York’s Upper East side when suddenly we turned a corner and saw, over the rooftops, the tip of the Eiffel Tower. Certainly not something you see in America’s northeast.
The tower certainly doesn’t disappoint, and even though it’s my third time seeing it (consciously, there was a fourth when I was little, and while I have the drawing to prove that I saw it, I don’t actually remember it), it still takes my breath away. It certainly has a grace and style that is timeless and a sweep that is both elegant and remarkably structural. Unfortunately at that point, it started to rain. We walked to the underside of the tower and waited for the rain to subside, then went off in search of food.
Dinner was a lovely Italian affair at the Ristorante dell’ Angelo. I had a delicious spaghetti alio e olio e pepperoncino. Diana had the rigatoni arrabiata. We split a mixed appetizer, which was amazing. The spaghetti was just as I’d remembered it (from Italy, not as I remember cooking it myself – that was pretty awful): it was light, with a little hit of spice and then overwhelming garlic flavor. I have no doubt I’m going to smell of garlic for at least another day or two. Diana’s rigatoni was spicy and flavorful, not really my thing, but lovely nonetheless. I preferred my Chianti to her Bordeaux, but again, I think that just comes down to personal preference. The cheese platter (parmesan, gorgonzola, and some odd creamy goat cheese) was amazing. The parmesan, by far my favorite, had a real sweetness to it, completely unlike the sharp parmesan I’m used to from the US. The gorgonzola, again, was unlike what I was used to – creamy and pungent without being too sharp. Delicious. The goat cheese reminded me a lot of brie, but with a much stronger goats milk flavor. These were all served with a few shreds of lettuce drizzled in a really fruity and tasty extra-virgin olive oil and, inexplicably, a pat of butter, which I mistook for cheese, eating a large chunk of it plain. It is certainly true that French butter tastes unlike any other. Having never eaten butter of any nationality on its own, I can say that this French butter tasted much more strongly of butter than of cheese, which was what I was expecting. Seems natural, in retrospect, that butter should taste like butter.
A trip back to the Eiffel tower after dark was gorgeous too – at night it’s a beautiful bronze color, but there’s also a wonderful sparkle that happens every hour – flashbulbs start to go off and the entire tower starts to shimmer. It’s amazingly gorgeous, and was a real sight. Thankfully, the rain had stopped and we were able to linger and take in the tower. It’s been a long day, and I’m so looking forward to tomorrow.
