4.02.2005
overload
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.
I think that I am totally arted out for the week. I’ve seen more art in the past three days than I have in a very long time – serious amounts of art at the Musée d’Orsay, Musée Rodin, and the Louvre, not to mention Sainte-Chapelle, Notre-Dame de Paris, and the assorted gardens and parks of Paris, all of these challenge the mind and while they are beautiful, I don’t think I can handle much more. I begin to wonder how often the average Parisian actually goes to the Louvre. Do they go as often as Oxonians see the Ashmolean museum or Bostonians visit the Museum of Fine Arts or Gardiner Museums? For the record, I’ve been in the Ashmolean proper twice (two other times for coffee) and while I enjoy the MFA on a fairly regular basis, I’ve still never been to the Gardiner Museum.
So I enjoyed an almond croissant this morning: a real departure from my normal pain du chocolat. It reminded me of the custard-filled buns from Chinatown, except a little more flaky and with powdered sugar on top. I would have preferred either a little more browning on the pastry or a little more almond in the paste. Either way, it was good, but not outstanding.
The Louvre was, as expected, amazing. The Greek sculpture section was delightful, as was the Roman art section. Particularly noteworthy was the (not-gummy) Venus de Milo. We were remarking, though, how she’s not particularly good-looking. And her head is a little misproportioned. Perhaps that’s what she gets for everyone thinking she’s the prettiest girl in the room. The claws come out…
Much nicer was the Victory of Samothrace, which is a figure of power and majesty. Also of note were the visual signs pointing visitors to the Victory of Samothrace, the Venus de Milo, and the Mona Lisa. As if people just come in, see those three things, and return to America without a second thought that surely a museum with three separate and distinct parts might hold more than three pieces of artwork. Indeed, almost none of the paintings in the same room as the Mona Lisa had nameplates or tags, the curators having resigned themselves to the fact that, honestly, no one is going to be looking at these paintings anyway. For all we know, they were stolen out of the Best Western down the street and hung up on the wall. We have no idea.
A quick lunch break was taken in the early afternoon, and the two of us went off in search of comestibles. We stumbled across a very cute ramen house but, having eaten noodle soup the night before (ostensibly against her will), Diana would have none of it. Thankfully, said ramen house was right next door to a wonderful little sandwich shop. I had a sandwich of deliciously well-marbled salami, tomatoes, pickles, herbs and cheese. Wonderful! Diana had a ham and cheese. Simple, but no less tasty. Lunch was a delightful picnic in the Jardin des Tulleries before heading back inside for more art.
The afternoon dragged on a bit slowly, as both of us were quickly reaching our saturation point in terms of artwork. Honestly, one can only see so much Flemish landscape painting before wanting desperately to hurt someone.
Luckily, I found a nice place to check my email, though there was no hookup for my computer. I suppose I’ll be doomed to posting my blog musings and rantings when I return to Oxford.
Dinner tonight was a delicious little find. Having been alerted to a cluster of nice restaurants jockeying for space, we headed off to the 6th arrondisement. Upon our arrival on these streets, the proprietors of said establishments, situated, no kidding, cheek-by-jowl along a few very narrow streets, began to emerge, each one calling over to us and beckoning us. We settled on one really wonderful place with an ever-so-charming host and a nice prix-fixe menu. Starters: a warm chevre salad for her and a prawn and avocado salad for me. I’ve been starved for avocadoes, in the same way that I’ve been starved for garlic and real Asian food, so this was heavenly. The chevre salad was exceptional as well. I had a rumpsteak with Roquefort sauce, which was tangy and complex. The fries served alongside were of the highest quality. Diana had lamb chops and fries, and they certainly did not disappoint.
On a side note, we both bemoaned the state of lamb in the US. I’d heard it wasn’t gamey enough, Diana says that it tastes rancid whenever she orders it. No matter what, I’d like to order lamb in the US sometime soon, just to see again whether I like it as much as I enjoy lamb in Europe.
Onward to dessert – mine was a fromage blanc with fruit, a parfait of sorts made with a cheese not unlike a blend of marscapone and sour cream, or possibly very tangy fresh yoghurt. Diana’s was a lemon tart. Clearly, she wins. We had a carafe of the house red wine, much smoother than a burgundy, we were unsure as to what exactly it was. Total bill, I’m not kidding, €32. Unbelieveable. Seriously, we should have been eating here all week.
Dessert number two was gelato at a delicious little shop not 20 yards from the restaurant, though we spent the better part of 20 minutes circling and trying to find it. For rather little money, you get an amazing cone filled with creamy gelato which rivals the real thing. I had two flavors: chocolate and amaretto. The chocolate was deep and rich while the amaretto was sweet but never cloying. Diana mixed the chocolate with strawberry and got something incredible. Still, my amaretto would beat her strawberry any day.
That’s all for now. I think it’s honestly time for bed.
I think that I am totally arted out for the week. I’ve seen more art in the past three days than I have in a very long time – serious amounts of art at the Musée d’Orsay, Musée Rodin, and the Louvre, not to mention Sainte-Chapelle, Notre-Dame de Paris, and the assorted gardens and parks of Paris, all of these challenge the mind and while they are beautiful, I don’t think I can handle much more. I begin to wonder how often the average Parisian actually goes to the Louvre. Do they go as often as Oxonians see the Ashmolean museum or Bostonians visit the Museum of Fine Arts or Gardiner Museums? For the record, I’ve been in the Ashmolean proper twice (two other times for coffee) and while I enjoy the MFA on a fairly regular basis, I’ve still never been to the Gardiner Museum.
So I enjoyed an almond croissant this morning: a real departure from my normal pain du chocolat. It reminded me of the custard-filled buns from Chinatown, except a little more flaky and with powdered sugar on top. I would have preferred either a little more browning on the pastry or a little more almond in the paste. Either way, it was good, but not outstanding.
The Louvre was, as expected, amazing. The Greek sculpture section was delightful, as was the Roman art section. Particularly noteworthy was the (not-gummy) Venus de Milo. We were remarking, though, how she’s not particularly good-looking. And her head is a little misproportioned. Perhaps that’s what she gets for everyone thinking she’s the prettiest girl in the room. The claws come out…
Much nicer was the Victory of Samothrace, which is a figure of power and majesty. Also of note were the visual signs pointing visitors to the Victory of Samothrace, the Venus de Milo, and the Mona Lisa. As if people just come in, see those three things, and return to America without a second thought that surely a museum with three separate and distinct parts might hold more than three pieces of artwork. Indeed, almost none of the paintings in the same room as the Mona Lisa had nameplates or tags, the curators having resigned themselves to the fact that, honestly, no one is going to be looking at these paintings anyway. For all we know, they were stolen out of the Best Western down the street and hung up on the wall. We have no idea.
A quick lunch break was taken in the early afternoon, and the two of us went off in search of comestibles. We stumbled across a very cute ramen house but, having eaten noodle soup the night before (ostensibly against her will), Diana would have none of it. Thankfully, said ramen house was right next door to a wonderful little sandwich shop. I had a sandwich of deliciously well-marbled salami, tomatoes, pickles, herbs and cheese. Wonderful! Diana had a ham and cheese. Simple, but no less tasty. Lunch was a delightful picnic in the Jardin des Tulleries before heading back inside for more art.
The afternoon dragged on a bit slowly, as both of us were quickly reaching our saturation point in terms of artwork. Honestly, one can only see so much Flemish landscape painting before wanting desperately to hurt someone.
Luckily, I found a nice place to check my email, though there was no hookup for my computer. I suppose I’ll be doomed to posting my blog musings and rantings when I return to Oxford.
Dinner tonight was a delicious little find. Having been alerted to a cluster of nice restaurants jockeying for space, we headed off to the 6th arrondisement. Upon our arrival on these streets, the proprietors of said establishments, situated, no kidding, cheek-by-jowl along a few very narrow streets, began to emerge, each one calling over to us and beckoning us. We settled on one really wonderful place with an ever-so-charming host and a nice prix-fixe menu. Starters: a warm chevre salad for her and a prawn and avocado salad for me. I’ve been starved for avocadoes, in the same way that I’ve been starved for garlic and real Asian food, so this was heavenly. The chevre salad was exceptional as well. I had a rumpsteak with Roquefort sauce, which was tangy and complex. The fries served alongside were of the highest quality. Diana had lamb chops and fries, and they certainly did not disappoint.
On a side note, we both bemoaned the state of lamb in the US. I’d heard it wasn’t gamey enough, Diana says that it tastes rancid whenever she orders it. No matter what, I’d like to order lamb in the US sometime soon, just to see again whether I like it as much as I enjoy lamb in Europe.
Onward to dessert – mine was a fromage blanc with fruit, a parfait of sorts made with a cheese not unlike a blend of marscapone and sour cream, or possibly very tangy fresh yoghurt. Diana’s was a lemon tart. Clearly, she wins. We had a carafe of the house red wine, much smoother than a burgundy, we were unsure as to what exactly it was. Total bill, I’m not kidding, €32. Unbelieveable. Seriously, we should have been eating here all week.
Dessert number two was gelato at a delicious little shop not 20 yards from the restaurant, though we spent the better part of 20 minutes circling and trying to find it. For rather little money, you get an amazing cone filled with creamy gelato which rivals the real thing. I had two flavors: chocolate and amaretto. The chocolate was deep and rich while the amaretto was sweet but never cloying. Diana mixed the chocolate with strawberry and got something incredible. Still, my amaretto would beat her strawberry any day.
That’s all for now. I think it’s honestly time for bed.
