Paris!

Oh my goodness, we are in Paris. This is our first time and for a foodie like me, it is the Holy Grail.  We go to our hotel and change.  After all, I am in Paris and I want to at least make an attempt at being fashionable and not wear my sneakers. We leave the hotel and find our way down to the Seine.  Out comes our trusty map.. We are only a couple blocks from the Louvre.  I can't believe how huge it is. It is no wonder the French revolution happened. The poor citizens struggle and the royalty spends money like water.  At least they had good taste in architecture. 

After overhearing the Segway guide mention that if you spent 30 seconds looking at each picture in the Louvre, it would take you 9 months to see them all, we decide to just do the grounds, walk down the Avenue des Champs de Élysées (I can’t believe I am here. I was supposed to be in the Baltic. Yay engine failure) and make our way to the Arc de Triomphe. Somewhere about ½ km from the arch I have a wardrobe malfunction. Oh fashion, my shoes are killing me, the bandage only helps for a block before it falls off. A perfect time for a break.  I hobble over to a table on the plaza and order a Croque Monsieur to share with my husband. It is a typical casual French dish that is basically a grilled cheese with ham with the cheese on the top. Wait a minute, the food is supposed to be fabulous in Paris. but this is disappointing.

We take the metro back to the hotel and I change. So much for fashion. We go out again and spend a few hours exploring the area around the hotel then come back and ask the clerk if he knows of any good restaurants nearby.  He says one of his favorites is right at the end of the block.  We all go outside and squint to see if it is open.  Yes!

The owner, a young woman, is game to find out about a drink my husband requests a Long Island Iced Tea. She has him go behind the bar and make one for him and one for her. It is a riot.  He mixes one measure each of vodka and rum, 1/2 measure of gin and tequila, a splash of Triple Sec, add OJ and tint with enough Coke to make a tea-like color.  She takes one sip and splits her drink with the waitress; she still has to work! I order Carpaccio of scallops with passion fruit puree and salad vinaigrette - the tartness of the passion fruit marries perfectly with the richness of the scallops and the millefeiulle de legumes au Chevre frais (It is a round of layered eggplant and goat cheese with  pesto), which I am surprised to find it is cold, but it is heavenly.  Steven has the gazpacho which unlike my recipe is pureed with basil. It too is delicious. He also ordered the tuna steak in sauce vierge, made from olive oil, lemon juice, chopped basil and tomato, which he happily eats while we watch the parade outside the door.  Our meal is outstanding. Paris is vindicated.

We go back to the hotel to plan the next day and await an email from my neighbor, who has been in Paris a few times. It is forth coming after I suggest I might return her Belgian chocolates.  She has a few restaurant suggestions and says we should see the Rodin.   The next day we see the Bastille which is only a monument. Somehow I was expecting a castle.  Too many movies, I guess. We wind our way down to the left bank. We see the spectacular Notre Dame Cathedral and visit the Luxembourg Palace with its beautiful gardens.  We wander off to Montparnasse a 56 story building that has 360 degree view of Paris. It costs 10 euro, but it was worth it to see how the buildings were designed as big triangles filled with courtyards and just how big the palaces and Louvre were in relation to the rest of the city. It also gave us a prospective on just how far we walked and how much of the city we had covered in just 2 days.

We head off for dinner to Le Relais de l'Entercote, the steak place our neighbors recommended. There are no reservations. We stand patiently in the fast moving line.  Unlike anywhere we have been, the service is prompt.  You have no chooses, except for what wine you want, how you wish your meat cooked and dessert.  A salad with an assertive mustard dressing arrives.  We gobble it up.  The place is large and they are getting the customers in and out.  Our steak arrives sliced and perfectly cooked, served with an herbed butter sauce and a large amount of frites.  Our waitress skillfully puts four slices on each plate, enrobes it with the sauce, piles on the frites and serves us.  She covers the remaining food so it stays warm.  After we just about finish, she returns with a huge pile of frites.  She serves us the remaining still warm steak and asks us if we want more fries.  "A few crispy ones", I request. She cheerfully obliges.  The couple seated next to us tells us they have been coming to this restaurant for 35 years and suggest a dessert to order.  We share the dacquoise, a towering hazelnut meringue layered with ice cream and whipped cream.  Viva la France! We stroll around the area a bit and before making our way back to the hotel. This is our last night.

 The next day after we pack, I search for one of those patisseries with beautiful food in the window.  A stop in an art gallery yields some fabulous works and the name of a patisserie down the street. I order a very tasty cheese and spinach filled croissant, a chocolate pastry that is too rich for breakfast and coffee.  It's off to the Rodin. More fabulous gardens and art. The Eiffel Tower is our last stop. We pick up our bags, head to the train station and dream about pastries and gardens.  Au revoir Paris.  It's north we go to Lille.