4.03.2005
noshing
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.
Today was a grazing day. We went from gastronomic experience to gastronomic experience today in search of everything that Paris has to offer. While we were doing this, we pinballed across the city, walking off many, but certainly not all, of the calories consumed for the day.
We begin our day in the morning. Again to our local boulangerie, which has a line out the door. I have, you guessed it, a pain au chocolat. Diana had another one of those delightful apple pastries. She informs me that they are called “chaussons aux pommes”. I don’t care – they’re hand-held apple pies on the order of McDonald’s pies. But better. And, you know, not McDonald’s.
But ooh! A twist! We also buy a baguette, which in this country is called a baguette. Interestingly, the baguette is cheaper than either of the pastries, and I consumed much of it as we searched for a grocery store at which to buy mustard. We settle on a park bench in the shadow of Les Invalides and enjoy baguette and mustard, and fresh, buttery, flaky pastries. This is what is called, “a good breakfast.” And lunch, as well, as the baguette was plenty of food to tide us over.
Of course, en route to the Eiffel Tower, I also stopped in at one of the ubiquitous Traiteurs Asiatiques that I had been seeing all weekend. Diana has been laughing at me for pointing out every single one of those establishments, as it seems as I am obsessed. And obsessed I am, since there is very little in the way of Chinese food in Oxford. And by “Chinese Food”, I don’t mean Chinese takeout. I mean good Chinese food. And no, there isn’t any in Oxford. So to be able to go into a little store and get some shumai and Vietnamese spring rolls was a real treat. A good hour-long digestive nap was enjoyed on the grass near the tower. At least, by me… I have no idea what Diana was doing. I was asleep.
It is here that it might be helpful to note that Paris is entirely populated by couples. Either young and dating or old and romantic-looking. Or somewhere in-between and with adorable little kids. But only in those three stages of life. Cute. But a little weird.
Taking a cue from many accounts of Parisian life, we walked by the Seine, which proved quite a delight. We crossed over onto the northern bank of Paris and walked through the 8th and 9th arrondisments, which proved to be quite less of a delight. Not only is life pretty much stopped north of the Seine on weekends, but this was a pretty dingy part of Paris anyway. A hasty retreat was beaten back down to the Tuilleries.
We went back to the hotel to drop stuff off as well, or at least, that was the plan. On the way, we stopped by a little café where I had a delicious quiche lorraine and a remarkably refreshing Strassbourgian beer. Diana had an apricot tarte (outstanding!) and a Ceylon tea (quite nice). You’d have thought that the quiche would have held off the hunger pangs, but in I went to another Traiteur Asiatique for some more spring rolls. Not as good as the ones this morning, with the result that I think my obsession with the Chinese food has worn off.
We went back to the area in the 6th arrondisment for dinner again. Delicious food tonight – another prix fixe meal which went even more beautifully than last night’s. Of course, were we happy to go in, settle on a restaurant, and eat? Of course not! We walked about, looked longingly at other foodstuffs, and then had a crepe with Grand Marnier and sugar. *Then* it was time for dinner.
Settling upon a restaurant just down the road from the one last night, we were enticed in by the idea of onion soup, escargots, and duck. I decided that I had to have two starters: first, a French onion soup. It was everything that a good onion soup should be – perfectly balanced between the sweetness of the caramelized onion and the saltiness of the cheese, with deliciously browned and toasted croutons and a broth that was both clean and crisp and incredibly deep and complex. I followed that up with the warm chevre salad. The chevre was sharp and much more ripe than Diana’s had been last night. The cheese blocks were also much larger than last night’s, though, to be fair, the other restaurant served three to these tonight’s two. Diana had the escargot, a masterpiece of butter, garlic, and parsley. We ran out of bread before the end of the appetizer course, which in this country is the entrée.
We were both seduced by the duck – I by the confit, she by the duck breast. My confit was buttery and rich, with meat that fell off of the bone. It was served with garlic potato slices. The salt and garlic in the potatoes cut through the fat in the duck confit, making a delightful pairing. Diana had a magret du canard with honey sauce and regular potato slices. This was really something else – the honey taste was slightly overpowering at first, but then it melted away leaving the savory richness of the rare duck, followed by the gaminess of the meat. It was incredibly delicious as well.
Dessert for me was a crème brulée, the traditional French dessert of a custard with a burnt caramelized sugar top layer. Interestingly, this was not as traditional as it could have been: instead of a layer of hardened caramel, this was just a charred layer of sugar on top. I was a little disappointed until I tasted it – while the more familiar one tastes of caramel and candy, this one tasted unmistakably of toasted marshmallow. Diana’s tarte tatin was a gooey mass of sour apple, not unlike her morning apple pastries. It was served with a delicious crème fraiche, and the overall experience was delightful. Wine tonight (this is France, of course), was another pitcher of table red. Not as good as the wine last night, it was still wonderful and matched the food very well.
There had been plans in the works to go back to Amorino for ice cream, but said plans were discarded considering how full we were after dinner. So our time in Paris draws to a close, but I don’t think that there was too much left undone, though Diana adds that there was far too much left uneaten. I would second that (ramen), but perhaps she and I do not agree on the relative merits of that which was left uneaten… Thanks to everyone who made suggestions as to what to do – expert knowledge of a city is essential to making the most of one’s time.
Today was a grazing day. We went from gastronomic experience to gastronomic experience today in search of everything that Paris has to offer. While we were doing this, we pinballed across the city, walking off many, but certainly not all, of the calories consumed for the day.
We begin our day in the morning. Again to our local boulangerie, which has a line out the door. I have, you guessed it, a pain au chocolat. Diana had another one of those delightful apple pastries. She informs me that they are called “chaussons aux pommes”. I don’t care – they’re hand-held apple pies on the order of McDonald’s pies. But better. And, you know, not McDonald’s.
But ooh! A twist! We also buy a baguette, which in this country is called a baguette. Interestingly, the baguette is cheaper than either of the pastries, and I consumed much of it as we searched for a grocery store at which to buy mustard. We settle on a park bench in the shadow of Les Invalides and enjoy baguette and mustard, and fresh, buttery, flaky pastries. This is what is called, “a good breakfast.” And lunch, as well, as the baguette was plenty of food to tide us over.
Of course, en route to the Eiffel Tower, I also stopped in at one of the ubiquitous Traiteurs Asiatiques that I had been seeing all weekend. Diana has been laughing at me for pointing out every single one of those establishments, as it seems as I am obsessed. And obsessed I am, since there is very little in the way of Chinese food in Oxford. And by “Chinese Food”, I don’t mean Chinese takeout. I mean good Chinese food. And no, there isn’t any in Oxford. So to be able to go into a little store and get some shumai and Vietnamese spring rolls was a real treat. A good hour-long digestive nap was enjoyed on the grass near the tower. At least, by me… I have no idea what Diana was doing. I was asleep.
It is here that it might be helpful to note that Paris is entirely populated by couples. Either young and dating or old and romantic-looking. Or somewhere in-between and with adorable little kids. But only in those three stages of life. Cute. But a little weird.
Taking a cue from many accounts of Parisian life, we walked by the Seine, which proved quite a delight. We crossed over onto the northern bank of Paris and walked through the 8th and 9th arrondisments, which proved to be quite less of a delight. Not only is life pretty much stopped north of the Seine on weekends, but this was a pretty dingy part of Paris anyway. A hasty retreat was beaten back down to the Tuilleries.
We went back to the hotel to drop stuff off as well, or at least, that was the plan. On the way, we stopped by a little café where I had a delicious quiche lorraine and a remarkably refreshing Strassbourgian beer. Diana had an apricot tarte (outstanding!) and a Ceylon tea (quite nice). You’d have thought that the quiche would have held off the hunger pangs, but in I went to another Traiteur Asiatique for some more spring rolls. Not as good as the ones this morning, with the result that I think my obsession with the Chinese food has worn off.
We went back to the area in the 6th arrondisment for dinner again. Delicious food tonight – another prix fixe meal which went even more beautifully than last night’s. Of course, were we happy to go in, settle on a restaurant, and eat? Of course not! We walked about, looked longingly at other foodstuffs, and then had a crepe with Grand Marnier and sugar. *Then* it was time for dinner.
Settling upon a restaurant just down the road from the one last night, we were enticed in by the idea of onion soup, escargots, and duck. I decided that I had to have two starters: first, a French onion soup. It was everything that a good onion soup should be – perfectly balanced between the sweetness of the caramelized onion and the saltiness of the cheese, with deliciously browned and toasted croutons and a broth that was both clean and crisp and incredibly deep and complex. I followed that up with the warm chevre salad. The chevre was sharp and much more ripe than Diana’s had been last night. The cheese blocks were also much larger than last night’s, though, to be fair, the other restaurant served three to these tonight’s two. Diana had the escargot, a masterpiece of butter, garlic, and parsley. We ran out of bread before the end of the appetizer course, which in this country is the entrée.
We were both seduced by the duck – I by the confit, she by the duck breast. My confit was buttery and rich, with meat that fell off of the bone. It was served with garlic potato slices. The salt and garlic in the potatoes cut through the fat in the duck confit, making a delightful pairing. Diana had a magret du canard with honey sauce and regular potato slices. This was really something else – the honey taste was slightly overpowering at first, but then it melted away leaving the savory richness of the rare duck, followed by the gaminess of the meat. It was incredibly delicious as well.
Dessert for me was a crème brulée, the traditional French dessert of a custard with a burnt caramelized sugar top layer. Interestingly, this was not as traditional as it could have been: instead of a layer of hardened caramel, this was just a charred layer of sugar on top. I was a little disappointed until I tasted it – while the more familiar one tastes of caramel and candy, this one tasted unmistakably of toasted marshmallow. Diana’s tarte tatin was a gooey mass of sour apple, not unlike her morning apple pastries. It was served with a delicious crème fraiche, and the overall experience was delightful. Wine tonight (this is France, of course), was another pitcher of table red. Not as good as the wine last night, it was still wonderful and matched the food very well.
There had been plans in the works to go back to Amorino for ice cream, but said plans were discarded considering how full we were after dinner. So our time in Paris draws to a close, but I don’t think that there was too much left undone, though Diana adds that there was far too much left uneaten. I would second that (ramen), but perhaps she and I do not agree on the relative merits of that which was left uneaten… Thanks to everyone who made suggestions as to what to do – expert knowledge of a city is essential to making the most of one’s time.
