Holy Week and Preparing for Easter

March 30, 2018

We are marking Holy Week and Easter much the same way we do in the US:  fasting and abstaining on Good Friday, trying to make it to part of the Triduum, mostly forgetting to plan for Easter dinner, wondering whether it's warm enough to wear a spring dress to Easter mass, and, of course chocolate.  There will be one major difference in our Easter celebration this year, though, due to Glenn's absence.  (He is back in Boston for a conference and staying there through the weekend.)  For the last 20 years or so, Glenn has always made a clever and elaborate Easter egg/clue/scavenger hunt for the girls.  The clues sometimes require knowledge of family or other trivia.  They often involve solving logic puzzles or math problems.  Sometimes they are puzzle pieces that, once assembled, form a map showing the location of the Easter treats.  Sometimes they are in foreign languages.  Sometimes they are in rhyming couplets.  Sometimes there are themes to the hunts (e.g., plane geometry, Newton history, computational linguistics).  So, you can see, this is a tough act to follow.  I haven't decided yet whether I will attempt it.

Last night Kate and I attended Holy Thursday mass, one of my favorite of the year.  There is something so solemn and dark and beautiful about it.  We went to Saint Germain-des-Prés, our normal parish.  The church has been under restoration the whole year, but the area around the altar is now gloriously restored, and its elaborate decoration and jewel tones just glowed in the candlelight last night.  There were no fewer than seven priests at the mass, and about a dozen deacons and servers.  We were sitting close to the sanctuary, so we could take in the complicated movements of the twenty people up there.  There were many occasions where candles were brought out by servers and held during a prayer, where servers accompanied priests to hold the sleeves of their robes while they performed some ritual, where the brass censer was swung back and forth to disseminate the burning incense.  The ritual washing of the feet was particularly complicated, involving the moving of various stools and chairs, fetching of water tubs and towels, priests taking off their outer robes, all assisted by servers and deacons.  And all of the movements were very controlled and stylized.  I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been to choreograph the whole thing.  After the mass, we processed out first to an a capella chant and then to silence.  A procession was heading to the chapel for further adoration, but at that point, Kate and I left because it was almost 10pm and we had not had dinner yet.  (At least we didn't have a big meal before and fall asleep during mass---a biblical reference.)  

This mass, although somewhat more formal and elaborate, had essentially the same elements as Holy Thursday mass at Our Lady's in Newton.  In fact, Easter here seems quite familiar, both in the religious rites and the more commercial aspects.  There are a couple of interesting differences, though.  Palm Sunday is known as "Dimanche des Rameaux," Sunday of the Boughs.  Instead of receiving palm fronds, we received boughs from something like a boxwood.  (Strangely, we had to pay for them, but that was ok.)  Also, the store displays have the typical eggs and bunnies and chicks, but I was surprised to find that fish seem to also be commonly associated with Easter here.      

Another French twist on Easter goodies:  one patisserie specializing in macarons fashioned them into Easter animals.  

Quartier du Chat Noir

March 29th, 2018

Black cats seem to be the unofficial theme of our neighborhood.

We have a courtyard black cat.

The bookstore next door has a black cat logo, although we've never seen a black cat there. 

The jewelry store around the corner on rue Racine always has black cat jewelry and scarves displayed.  (Today, the scarves had other-colored cats, too.)

There's even black cat graffiti nearby.

A black cat lives in the clothing store and workshop, Bourgine, next to the jewelry store.  In the shop, they produce, among other things, bags and t-shirts with a stylish, cartoony map of our neighborhood on them.  You will notice the black cat marking the site of their shop, near the middle of the map.  (We live just to the right of the large yellow building, the Théâtre Odéon, about where a tiny coke bottle is.)

And here is Bourgine's actual black cat.

There is yet another black cat that lurks on rue Racine, often hiding under the parked cars and taking Sandy by surprise on his walks.  He doesn't really like that.  

Truth be told, Sandy is not particularly happy about the unofficial theme of our neighborhood.  He's pushing for Quartier de Labradoodle Adorable.  

Haussmannian Paris

March 28th, 2018

Under Napoleon III in the latter part of the 19th century (known as the Second Empire), a massive public works project was undertaken to transform Paris.  At the time, water and sewer systems were inadequate and transportation was difficult, in part because Paris was made up of many small and crowded medieval enclaves.  Baron Haussmann, under orders from Napoleon, bulldozed wide swathes of the city, building Les Grandes Boulevards lined with generous sidewalks and six-story residential buildings with shops and restaurants on the ground floor.  Haussmann placed quite specific restrictions on the buildings, in terms of height, design, and function.  These iconic boulevards and buildings are the Paris we know today.  Some older landmarks survived the project---the Louvre, Notre Dame, Luxembourg Palace, etc.---and some neighborhoods survived somewhat intact---the Marais and the Quartier Latin, for instance---but the typical Paris street scene or architectural photo exhibits a strong Haussmann influence.

There is reason to believe that another motive, beyond improving sanitation and transportation, drove this project.  Napoleon, apparently, was concerned that Paris would be too difficult to control in the case of an uprising because of its narrow, warren-like streets.  So the project was likely also an attempt to gain military advantage over the unruly residents of France's largest city.  In any case, thousands were displaced from their homes, driven to the outskirts of Paris unable to afford accommodations in the modern, grand, and clean Paris.  The legacy continues today, with central Paris being beautiful, well-kept, and too expensive for most residents of the area.  Only one-fifth of the 10 million people in the Paris metropolitan area live within the city limits, and they tend to be mostly the wealthiest 2 million.     

Here is a map indicating the new boulevards built in the Second Empire in red and the ones built in the Third Republic, but part of the same ambitious project, in blue.  

The map below zooms in on our neighborhood.  (We live near rue de Medicis, right in the middle of the map.)
  

  
Some of the areas between boulevard Saint Germain and the river and between rue Monge and rue Gay-Lussac were largely untouched and retain some of their medieval feel, as well as 17th and 18th century buildings.  I took some photos trying to illustrate the contrast between the older Paris and the Haussmannian Paris.  These were all taken in the vicinity of Saint Severin, between blvd Saint Germain and Ile de la Cite.  Here are some older streets and buildings.

Here are two particular pre-second empire buildings.

Here are the Second Empire ones.

The buildings are more uniform and quite a bit more elaborate.  The mansard roof is very much in evidence.  (Apparently, the mansard roof was developed to allow an extra floor of apartments while still adhering to Haussmann's maximum height, which was stated in terms of the height of the eaves.  So a very tall roof with low eaves was developed.)  They all have businesses on the ground floor, wide sidewalks in front, and wide boulevards with lots of cars.  

The Second Empire boulevards are beautiful, but I'm very glad that Haussmann's vision of an entirely modernized Paris never was realized.  Although not as practical, I like older Paris, too, perhaps even more.  

Blog Comments

March 25th, 2018

A number of you have mentioned that you tried to comment on various blog posts but were unable to.  I checked to make sure that I had not disabled commenting but otherwise had no useful advice on this score.  My very clever friend Brienne, a former code-breaker (literally true), was able to do it.  I asked her how---she said something about signing in with her gmail account before commenting.  I hope this helps!  

Some Thoughts on Parisian Architecture and Design

March 25th, 2018

I'm always planning my next renovation/redecoration, so I've been keeping my eyes out for interesting design ideas here in Europe.  Our apartment is nice, modern, functional, but I don't think anyone would call it inspired in terms of design.  So I must look further.  

I'm not sure that I have identified a European aesthetic separate from an American one.  The raw materials they have (for instance, the structures themselves) are often different and older, and there are nods to different design traditions (think more peasant and less cowboy), but the broad contours are the same.  I posted earlier about the hotel in Stockholm where we stayed (more pictures there).  I really loved the Scandanavian elements---the clean but organic, flowing lines and the coziness---combined with some industrial elements and lots of fun and whimsy.  I think all of those parts, especially the industrial and whimsical parts, are equally prominent in American design these days, though.  

In that case, the building itself was modern and characterless, so everything was created from whole cloth.  The buildings that really shine in Paris, I think, are the ones that take advantage of the antique structural elements.  There are two elements that I see over and over that I love:  natural timbers and butter-colored stone walls.  In fact, one often sees the light stone and mortar in barrel-vaulted ceilings of cellars that have been re-purposed as living spaces.  Some interiors cover up both those elements with drywall or plaster or paint but many leave them exposed to great effect.  Below are some photos I took to illustrate these two elements.  Here, first, are details of exterior stone walls with irregular-sized stones.

Here are two store fronts with the old timbers and stonework:

Here is an ice cream shop with timber beams on the ceiling and a stone back wall.

Here I love the structural stone wall, visible inside and out, with a store front of clear glass butting against the stone.  

The following image is a shoe store interior with half-timbered walls, where the timbers have been bleached very light with age, as seen through a glass storefront reflecting the buildings on the other side of the street.

Here are a few stock photos of Parisian interiors I pulled that do a pretty nice job of illustrating how these elements can be beautifully exploited in interior design.  The final one is of a guesthouse near us where I would like to stay when we come back to visit, La Maison d'Anne.  

Ecole Jeannine Manuel

March 23nd, 2018

All of the parents in Kate's school just received an email from the director, Madame Zebulon, that EJM had been ranked as the top lycée in France for the sixth consecutive year.  (It was tied for first with Henri IV in one ranking and second behind Henri IV and in front of Louis-le-Grand in another ranking.  Just for some perspective, Jean-Paul Sarte, Guy de Maupassant, Emmanuel Macron, and our friend Esther Duflo number among Henri IV's alumni, while Louis-le-Grand had Degas, Voltaire, Derrida, Delacroix, Molière, Robespierre, and Victor Hugo among its students.  These are pretty august institutions.)  Great news, of course, and certainly good reason for Madame Zebulon to be proud.  It came as somewhat of a surprise to us, though, given Kate's experience.  Math, in particular, has been a disaster, way below the level, the challenge, and the quality of teaching that she would have had in Newton.  I suppose all schools have good and bad teachers, so let me reflect on the parts of Kate's experience at EJM that have been positive.

First, let me say that EJM is not diverse in the sense the word is often used in the US---there are very few black students at the school.  The student body is also quite upper class, for the most part.  That being said, though, it has a lot of diversity in other dimensions.  There are students from all over the world, many of whom have lived in multiple countries---Kate's group of friends includes French, Korean, British, Turkish, Portuguese, Iranian, and Brazilian students, as well as a number of students born in France or the US with parents from Mexico, Canada, India, Italy, Belgium, South Africa, and others.  Newton is a pretty international place, but not that international.  Parents also tend to be an interesting group:  academics, diplomats, business people, writers, musicians, chefs, even royalty, many having grown up or lived abroad.  It has been very useful and interesting for Kate to get this more international perspective.  It has certainly had an impact on her---she says that she is determined to have a job that allows her to split her time between multiple countries when she grows up.  

Surprisingly for us, one of the most substantive and well-taught classes she has had this year has been English.  They have read Edith Wharton, Willa Cather, Robert Cormier, and others.  They have memorized and recited poetry by many, including Robert Browning and Edna St Vincent Millay.  Their readings of the literature have been close and detailed.  They have written essays, received substantive comments and criticism, and rewritten the essays.  This class has certainly been higher quality than Anna's freshman English class at Newton North was.  

Another surprisingly useful and challenging class has been PE.  PE in the US has basically given up.  It would be considered unfair to grade students on performance or even improvement, so, implicitly they cannot be graded on effort, either.  (How can you tell the hard-working but incompetent swimmer from the one who doesn't even try?)  When effort cannot be induced, then PE class just degenerates into this ridiculous charade where everyone gets dressed in athletic clothes and sits around gossiping with their friends and pretending to make an effort.  (The statement refers mostly to my daughters' and their friends' experiences with US PE classes.  I get the feeling that boys sometimes approach PE differently.)  Here in France, Kate's actual mark in PE is based on her measured performance:  how far she could throw a Nerf football, how fast she could run a mile, how far up the class badminton ladder she could proceed, etc.  As a result, she has gotten a lot of exercise and also gained real athletic skills in the process.  I am super impressed with PE and wish that some of these ideas could be applied in the US.  For instance, students could be graded in PE but their grades would not appear in their academic index (so a good student who was a poor athlete would not be punished in college admissions for something unrelated to academics).  But perhaps just being given a grade based on performance could be enough incentive for kids to actually put in effort.  There has been an indirect benefit to Kate as well.  She always thought of herself as bad at sports.  I assume that attitude resulted from her never putting in any effort in her PE classes and consequently performing poorly.  Now she puts in effort, sees improvement, updates her thoughts on where she is in the distribution of athletic skill, and has altered her self-image as an athlete.  That change can potentially have life-long benefits.

Her science class has been a disappointment, but she has actually learned a fair amount of science despite the class.  She was offered the opportunity to participate in an extracurricular physics program (Physique Plus) taught by a retired physics professor to the strongest science students in troisième.  It runs for two hours every Tuesday after school, alternating between lectures by the professor (in French) and labs run by another teacher (in English).  Among the topics they have studied are subatomic particles, the big bang and radiation, and information and computing theory.  They have done a number of substantive labs, including one where they estimated the value of absolute zero. 

And then, of course, there's French.  Glenn and I agreed at the beginning of the year that if becoming fluent in French was Kate's only academic achievement, we would declare victory.  So declare victory we must.  I don't think that Kate would quite describe herself as fluent---she still has a lot of room for learning and improvement---but her French is vastly better than it was, and there is still one-third of the school year to go.  Last night, Glenn and I listened with pride and amazement as she carried on a seven-minute phone conversation with my tennis instructor to see if there would be a time that she could fit in a lesson.  She was able to ask the right questions, explain her schedule to him, understand all of his responses, negotiate possible times, and then finally agree that the only possibility would be to fit in lessons on an ad hoc basis because their schedules didn't mesh.  She would probably not be mistaken for a native French speaker, but I suppose you would say that she is now functionally fluent, able to understand pretty much everything and competently express whatever she needs to say.  

She had studied French in the US for three years before coming here, so she would have picked up some additional facility with the language just living here for a year and absorbing what was around her.  I am sure, though, that most of the credit goes to EJM's adaptation curriculum.  She has three academic classes (French, Special French, and History/Geography) with the other adaptation students taught entirely in French.  History/Geography has been a mixed bag due to excessive teacher absences, but just to have three academic courses taught entirely in French makes a big difference.  In addition, she has art, music, and PE also taught in French.  In those classes, she is mixed in with the regular students in the school, all of whom are fluent in French.  Physique Plus is half in French as well. 

In addition to the academics, I should say, finally, that Kate loves EJM.  And that's important.  In our preparations to come here, we briefly considered the possibility of just having her enter our neighborhood French public school but dismissed it as too traumatizing.  We would have hated if her most salient memory of the year was sitting for hours in class unable to understand most of what was going on or communicate with anyone.  (She would have learned French quickly, but the first couple of months would have been brutal.)  At EJM, she was given an immediate group of friends, the adaptation class, and bonded with them quickly.  From that base, she has made friends outside of adaptation as well.  EJM, for better or worse, has also been light on the homework, which has given her plenty of time to socialize both during and outside of school.  (EJM has very long lunch breaks, like all French schools, and Kate loves the socializing potential.)

There are certainly things we would like to see change at the school and in adaptation in particular.  On balance, though, we are happy that Kate ended up at EJM and are grateful for all of the very positive aspects of her education this year.  

                           

Waiting

March 21st, 2018

I'm just waiting.  Sitting here in my office, refreshing the Roland Garros website every few minutes.  I started out this morning as 33,849 on the wait list.  I'm down to 13,763 now.  

Getting tickets to the French Open has been quite an adventure.  I don't know that I can exactly blame the French Open officials (although I could be annoyed at some of the more bureaucratic elements of the process).  I think my lack of French skills and bad luck is as much to blame.  And of course I have not yet gotten the tickets.  I am still---wait let me check---13,646 on the waiting list. 

I started early in my quest to get tickets.  My Boston tennis coach, Spritely, warned me that the French Open tickets were a bit difficult to come by, so I knew I had to be organized.  I had heard or read that the best way to get tickets was through a tennis club.  So, fine, I would join one.  Plus, I figured, I would get access to other players, lessons, courts, etc., through the club.  I looked online, and joining a tennis club didn't seem so straightforward, although I did find that my arrondissement was hosting a sports fair on a Saturday in early September where representatives from various leagues and clubs would be present.  This seemed promising.  I put it on the calendar and told Glenn and Kate about it.  I mentioned it several times in the week before, even planning when on Saturday we would go.  And then I forgot about it completely.  I remembered at about 6pm that night, too late to attend.  Pretty disappointed, I decided to redouble my efforts to find a tennis club some other way.  I spent ridiculous amounts of time online trying to figure this out, googling names of specific clubs I had found, trying to figure out how to apply.  I even called various outfits on the phone---no small feat and completely embarrassing given my French phone skills---but was unable to crack the code.  

I knew there must be other ways to obtain these tickets.  I went online to read others' advice and experience.  I found that tickets would go on sale to members of the French Tennis Federation in February and to the general public at 10am on Wednesday, March 21st.  The early sales to the members of the FFT must be related to the club membership that I had been trying to obtain.  Perhaps I would just have to try my luck with the general public.  Some bloggers had tips about how to optimize your chances of being able to purchase them when they go on sale.  Ok, I put that date on my calendar and set up an account ahead of time in case I was unable to figure out any other way.  In my searching about the FFT, however, I discovered that this year, for the first time, one could become a member of FFT through an online application instead of through a club!  That was the key---all I needed was to apply online to the FFT.

Well, it was a bit more complicated than it sounded.  In particular, I needed a physician's note that said that I was in acceptable physical condition to play tennis in order to join.  I contacted my Boston doctor---I don't have a Paris doctor---and asked her to write me such a note.  She couldn't quite believe it at first---"You mean like a note that a pediatrician would write for your kid to go to summer camp?"---but was willing to do it.  So I sent in my application, application fee, and doctor's note.  I wasn't sure if they would accept a note from a US doctor, but they did, with the provision that I could only receive a non-competitive membership because her letter only cleared me to play tennis, not to compete in tournaments.  Well, I had finally done it.  I could buy priority French Open tickets.  

Not so fast.  I went on the website during the priority purchasing period and could not gain access.  I tried several times but to no avail.  I finally wrote to Roland Garros to ask what the problem was.  Two days later I received the reply that the online FFT memberships are not given priority, only those memberships obtained through clubs.  Ugh.

I should say that my one final misstep was that, even though the date and time of the general public sales were on my calendar, it slipped my mind until about 10:30 this morning that the tickets went on sale at 10:00 this morning.  If I had remembered right at 10:00, I probably could have started out as 5,000 on the waiting list instead of 34,000.  So here I am, currently 3,301 on the waiting list.  

Hmmm, a quick calculation suggests that the waiting list has sped up markedly since I started this post several minutes ago.  I hope that doesn't mean that all of the tickets are sold out now and everyone is bailing from the waiting list . . . .

(Update:  Yea!!  I got four tickets to court 1 on the first day of the tournament, Sunday, May 27th.)

Day Trip to Brussels

March 19th, 2018

Spring teased us last week and then winter came back with a vengeance.  On one of the coldest and most unpleasant days of the year, we decided to spend ten hours outside exploring Brussels.  (Actually, we had planned this trip months ago and purchased the train tickets, so it was just some bad luck.)  Temperatures in Brussels hovered around freezing, and a brisk wind brought wind chills down to the teens.  We walked for miles from the train station to the royal quarter to the old city center, ducking into churches and cafes and shops when we needed to thaw out a little.  I think Brussels would be a lovely city to explore on a 70 degree day, but most of our memories of it will likely be linked to the temperature and the biting wind.

The most impressive thing we saw in Brussels was the Grand Place, a pedestrian square ringed by remarkably well-preserved and ornate buildings dating from around 1700.  Here are Glenn and Kate, bundled up, in front of buildings on one side of the square.  

We also ate at a very nice, casual restaurant that specialized in Asian-inspired burgers and other sandwiches, Baogo.  They served the sandwiches with Belgian-style fries and had Belgian beer on tap.  I had a sandwich of pulled pork with Chinese spices, green onions, pickles, and cabbage slaw on a bao bun with Xi'an spiced fries.  We thought it was great and were commenting that we would go to that restaurant all of the time if it were in our Paris neighborhood.

Brussels also had a sort of funky, hipster side that was very much on display.  Here are some pictures:

Reflection of mural in windows

Waffle minibus

Storefront of an antique shop

Murals in underpass

       

Our "Hive"

March 18th, 2018

For years in Newton, we subscribed to a farm share from Siena Farms.  I always felt that their produce was incomparable and the selection, although dictated by New England growing seasons, was very good.  I loved the greens, the carrots, the eggplants, the peppers, the squashes, the beans, the broccoli, the sweetest red cabbage I've ever had, and, especially, the beets, the tomatoes, and the watermelon radishes.  When there were five of us at home (three of us cooking), the large box that arrived every week seemed about right.  When Caroline left for college and didn't come home much in the summer, we had to make a more concerted effort to finish it, and then when Anna left, we were suddenly overwhelmed with produce.  Some nights I would want nothing more than to grab Glenn and Kate after work and head to a neighborhood pub for a burger and a beer but would feel compelled to stay a home and cook so all of the wonderful vegetables wouldn't go to waste.  (The phrase "tyranny of the farm share" entered our family lexicon.)

Here is Paris, I'm not sure that farm shares exist in the same way, and even if they did, we could not manage one, certainly, but I found something even better.  Once a week, a farm-to-city operation sets up in the cellar of the fromagerie in our building---they call it "La Ruche," or "The Hive."  A couple of days before, you can go online and choose whatever products you want, from dozens of different farms, and they will be delivered to the Hive for you to pick up.  There is no minimum obligation or long-term commitment---you just pay for what you order.  The products are quite varied:  seasonal fruits and vegetables, of course, but also mushrooms, cheeses, breads, baked goods, fresh pasta, nuts, honeys, jams, meats, and many other products.  We have ordered from the Hive twice now, and have been pleased.  We have gotten a few different cheeses, and I especially like some chevres we got from a farm called Des Prés à L'assiette.  Glenn and Kate loved the Cantal from Gaec de L'estorgue.  Kate also loves the raw milk we got---perhaps knowing that it's illegal in the US adds to the mystique.  We bought a yogurt cake that I then frosted with some cocoa buttercream frosting, and it almost seemed like an American layer cake (something I sort of miss).  We got some lovely lettuce there last week, but I can't wait until more of the spring produce, like berries, starts appearing. 

     

Boulangeries

March 14th, 2018

I sometimes complain to my friends that we live in a bread desert because we have to walk at least 5 minutes from our apartment to get a decent baguette.  (We can get baguettes from our amazing convenience store a 2 minute walk away, Carrefour Express, but they do sell out pretty early and they're not fantastic quality.)  So what do we do?  The fact that we do not have a boulangerie on our block may make our Paris neighborhood a little unusual, but it also means that we have an incentive to explore the large selection of boulangeries in different directions that are a 5-7 minute walk away.  I read that the independent artisan boulangerie is becoming extinct in Paris (and maybe all of France), replaced by chains.  In fact, most of the ones we go to are chains, but I think that some of them are quite good.

La Parisienne is my favorite.  They have delicious baguettes, but they also have wonderful pain au levain baked in huge, crusty loaves and cut off in chunks to order.  They have an unusual bread, the seigle feuillete, which I would describe as a loaf-sized, almost spherical, croissant made from whole-wheat flour.  It is delicious but rather rich, with the butter-induced laminations like a croissant.  Kate likes a bread called something like pain d'amis, which is also baked in a huge, crusty loaf but has a softer and moister and whiter crumb than the pain au levain.  They also sell a large, very flat, chocolate chip cookie that is decent.

The two large and well-known chains that we go to regularly are Eric Keyser and Paul.  I remember really liking the baguettes at Paul when I came to Paris several years ago.  Now I think they seem uninspired and mass-produced---I don't know if they have changed or I have.  Paul is also always crowded, but we go there sometimes because it's open on Sunday.  Eric Keyser has a decent baguette, for sure, and their chocolate chip cookies are pretty good.  (They have big chunks of pecans, which I could do without, but otherwise they're very nice.)  Kate likes their ham and butter sandwiches.    

Poilane is Glenn's favorite place for croissants.  (They are famous for their pain de campagne, ubiquitous in Parisian stores.)  He stops there on his runs sometimes.  I have never been because it seems a little far to walk, but I really should go to check it out.  

Gerard Mulot is also a common stop for us, because it is open on Sunday and roughly on the way home from mass.  Kate loves a dense chocolate and berry muffin called Helena, I like a small brownie-like cake called Etna, and we all think that the croissants and baguettes are decent.

There is a boulangerie near work, Eva, where we often stop to get a baguette on our way home.  I like the baguette belle arome.  (I should say that most boulangeries have multiple types of baguettes, even within the category of standard white baguette without any seeds or whole grains.  Always buy the more expensive one---we are literally talking about something like 90 cents for the cheaper one versus 1.20 euro for the more expensive---it's worth it for the superior flour and yeast used.)  Eva also has a sandwich, le Sud-est, which I get regularly for lunch.  It has olive oil, lettuce, and braesola, and it is made on a small baguette with black olives.  The rather brusque employees have gotten to know me there and always greet me with an enthusiastic "Bonjour madame, le Sud-est aujourdhui?"  Overall, it is not a great boulangerie, but there is not a lot of choice or quality in Porte d'Orleans.      

Kate often stops at a boulangerie near school for an afternoon croissant.  She says that next year she'll miss both the croissants and the routine of going to the boulangerie after school with her friends.  We understand, of course, and I'm sure that's not all we'll miss.