Here are some photos I took of walls and streets around Paris and elsewhere.
Wednesday, June 27, 2018
Cobbles and Walls
June 27th, 2018
Here are some photos I took of walls and streets around Paris and elsewhere.
Here are some photos I took of walls and streets around Paris and elsewhere.
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
Tintoretto
June 26th, 2018
As I mentioned in the previous post, we spent part of Anna's last day here at the Tintoretto exhibit at the Musée du Luxembourg. It's a lovely small museum with informative and well-curated temporary exhibits, just a two-minute walk from us, so we have made a point of visiting a few times. This exhibit focused on Tintoretto's early work and how he established a career for himself in Rubens' shadow in Venice. I learned a number of things, including that Tintoretto is not my favorite artist. For instance, I had trouble with the painting shown below, struggling to find some unifying idea or principle or aesthetic.
I also don't like paintings that seem overly dramatic and fantastical. Here's another that I found that I could grasp aesthetically but, again, fell short thematically.
Details of other paintings appealed, however. I like the palettes and textures in both, and find the perspective in the first very interesting.
I think it's instructive to think about artists in a broader context, so I want to offer a couple of comparisons. Directly below is a study Tintoretto did of a sculpture, in a period when he was working on the representation of a third dimension in a two-dimensional medium. Below that is a drawing by Michelangelo that I saw in New York in January. Tintoretto's use of shading and hatching to create the depth and movement is effective. Michelangelo's figure is more sober and less dramatic, of course, but I also feel like his style, in this drawing at least, is more dependent on flowing, organic lines to suggest shapes and images and less on shading. (This simple Tintoretto piece might have been my favorite in the whole exhibit.)
Finally, here are two courtyard scenes, the first painted by Tintoretto and the second by Delacroix.
I think it's interesting how differently the two artists use the courtyard with balcony in their compositions. Tintoretto wants to exploit the architecture to comment on the relationships and interactions among the subjects, in an almost allegorical manner. Delacroix treats the architecture more like, well, architecture, allowing light to selectively illuminate certain features and subjects and activities. Also, the perspective is closer and tighter in the Delacroix, essentially inviting the viewer into this intimate space. In contrast, it feels like the Tintoretto is almost lecturing to us. (Yea, Tintoretto is no Delacroix.)
As I mentioned in the previous post, we spent part of Anna's last day here at the Tintoretto exhibit at the Musée du Luxembourg. It's a lovely small museum with informative and well-curated temporary exhibits, just a two-minute walk from us, so we have made a point of visiting a few times. This exhibit focused on Tintoretto's early work and how he established a career for himself in Rubens' shadow in Venice. I learned a number of things, including that Tintoretto is not my favorite artist. For instance, I had trouble with the painting shown below, struggling to find some unifying idea or principle or aesthetic.
Anna Leaves; Ilana and Gabe Arrive
June 26th, 2018
Our children have been leaving one by one, turning our recently crowded and bustling apartment into something decidedly quieter. Caroline left early Friday morning. Kate flew to California for the week on Sunday, leaving for the airport early Sunday morning. And Anna left yesterday morning to fly back to Boston. So we decided to make the most of her last day here, Sunday. First, we visited the Tintoretto exhibit at the Musée du Luxembourg. (More on this exhibit later.)
Lunch was crepes at a nearby cafe, sitting outside to enjoy the sunshine. An accordion player stopped by to serenade us in the hopes, of course, of a couple of euros tossed his way. One of our fellow diners had a dog with her, who apparently is not a fan of the accordion. Every time the accordion player started up, the dog started barking. After a couple of minutes, he gave up and left.
We stopped by Chapon to pick up some chocolate mousse for later in the evening. They had five types. Anna sampled all of them and declared the Peruvian 75% to be her favorite---rich and fruity---but also decided to get portions of two others as well. The Madagascar was more classic but delicious. The Venezuelan, dark and deep, was made with practically no sugar but had very little bitterness.
Then we headed to the Musée des Arts et Métiers. Anna was especially interested in seeing Pascal's computing machine and the programmable looms. They had many looms on display, dating from as early as the 17th Century, I believe, but the really cool ones could be given a weaving program on what were essentially computer punch cards connected in a loop. They were complicated and impressive machines.
Anna also was interested in walking up to the top of the three-story-high scaffolding that displayed early automobiles. I was not interested in that activity and stayed below to take photographs.
Ilana, one of Caroline's best friends and a important person to all of us, and her boyfriend Gabe, joined us for dinner. (Ilana was a mainstay at our house during her high school years, and we have missed sharing dinners with her since.) They are on a whirlwind trip to Italy, France, and Spain, spending just a couple short days in Paris. We ordered take-out from a new wood-fired-oven pizza place right around the corner, and I made a salad (because Ilana has always liked my salads). And, of course, we had the chocolate mousses for dessert, with strawberries and whipped cream.
It was wonderful relaxing over a bottle of Graves, enjoying our last evening with Anna, and being regaled with stories of Ilana and Gabe's adventures so far.
Our children have been leaving one by one, turning our recently crowded and bustling apartment into something decidedly quieter. Caroline left early Friday morning. Kate flew to California for the week on Sunday, leaving for the airport early Sunday morning. And Anna left yesterday morning to fly back to Boston. So we decided to make the most of her last day here, Sunday. First, we visited the Tintoretto exhibit at the Musée du Luxembourg. (More on this exhibit later.)
Lunch was crepes at a nearby cafe, sitting outside to enjoy the sunshine. An accordion player stopped by to serenade us in the hopes, of course, of a couple of euros tossed his way. One of our fellow diners had a dog with her, who apparently is not a fan of the accordion. Every time the accordion player started up, the dog started barking. After a couple of minutes, he gave up and left.
We stopped by Chapon to pick up some chocolate mousse for later in the evening. They had five types. Anna sampled all of them and declared the Peruvian 75% to be her favorite---rich and fruity---but also decided to get portions of two others as well. The Madagascar was more classic but delicious. The Venezuelan, dark and deep, was made with practically no sugar but had very little bitterness.
Then we headed to the Musée des Arts et Métiers. Anna was especially interested in seeing Pascal's computing machine and the programmable looms. They had many looms on display, dating from as early as the 17th Century, I believe, but the really cool ones could be given a weaving program on what were essentially computer punch cards connected in a loop. They were complicated and impressive machines.
 |
| Jacquard loom from 1810---yes, there was a guy named Jacquard |
Ilana, one of Caroline's best friends and a important person to all of us, and her boyfriend Gabe, joined us for dinner. (Ilana was a mainstay at our house during her high school years, and we have missed sharing dinners with her since.) They are on a whirlwind trip to Italy, France, and Spain, spending just a couple short days in Paris. We ordered take-out from a new wood-fired-oven pizza place right around the corner, and I made a salad (because Ilana has always liked my salads). And, of course, we had the chocolate mousses for dessert, with strawberries and whipped cream.
It was wonderful relaxing over a bottle of Graves, enjoying our last evening with Anna, and being regaled with stories of Ilana and Gabe's adventures so far.
Monday, June 25, 2018
Picnic at Parc Buttes Chaumont
June 25th, 2018
Time has accelerated as it's dwindled---six weeks left, more or less. We marked the end of the school year and the birthdays of three friends with a trip to the Parc Buttes Chaumont, near Belleville in the northeast of Paris. The weather was glorious--- more dry California sunshine than heavy Paris warmth---and the setting could not have been more beautiful or unexpected. The park is characterized by rocky outcroppings, steep hills with winding paths, shady groves, caves and brooks and waterfalls. Ascend one path and large swathes of Paris open up to view. Follow another and find yourself skirting a clear babbling brook, tempted to get your feet wet. What a surprise, in the middle of a city of millions, to find such a refuge just a short walk from the metro stop.
There were about twenty of us there, Kate's three best friends from her year here (Roya, Thea, and Helena), along with many family members and some visiting friends of Roya's. We had fruits and cheeses and jams and meats and baguettes and, of course, birthday gateaux for Kate, Thea, and Roya, one chocolate and one strawberry. We were led by Thea's musician father in a higher-quality round of "Happy Birthday" than we're used to. There were hotly-contested badminton matches as well as gossiping, braiding, and general lazing on the grass. The day was so beautiful, the setting so stunning, and the conversation so relaxed and congenial, that no one even thought about shedding a tear at the imminent close of this chapter. (Or so I like to imagine.)
Time has accelerated as it's dwindled---six weeks left, more or less. We marked the end of the school year and the birthdays of three friends with a trip to the Parc Buttes Chaumont, near Belleville in the northeast of Paris. The weather was glorious--- more dry California sunshine than heavy Paris warmth---and the setting could not have been more beautiful or unexpected. The park is characterized by rocky outcroppings, steep hills with winding paths, shady groves, caves and brooks and waterfalls. Ascend one path and large swathes of Paris open up to view. Follow another and find yourself skirting a clear babbling brook, tempted to get your feet wet. What a surprise, in the middle of a city of millions, to find such a refuge just a short walk from the metro stop.
There were about twenty of us there, Kate's three best friends from her year here (Roya, Thea, and Helena), along with many family members and some visiting friends of Roya's. We had fruits and cheeses and jams and meats and baguettes and, of course, birthday gateaux for Kate, Thea, and Roya, one chocolate and one strawberry. We were led by Thea's musician father in a higher-quality round of "Happy Birthday" than we're used to. There were hotly-contested badminton matches as well as gossiping, braiding, and general lazing on the grass. The day was so beautiful, the setting so stunning, and the conversation so relaxed and congenial, that no one even thought about shedding a tear at the imminent close of this chapter. (Or so I like to imagine.)
Friday, June 22, 2018
A Day in Rouen
June 22nd, 2018
Caroline was leaving today, so Glenn and I played hooky yesterday from work and went with Caroline and Anna to Rouen, a beautiful city in Normandy, a bit more than an hour from Paris by train. Kate still had school, so it was only the four of us. Our day consisted of some of our favorite activities: walking around well-preserved medieval streets, popping into a few museums and churches, and eating.
Rouen, an important port city on the Seine, experienced periods of great prosperity and relative poverty over the last several hundred years, which can be traced through its architecture. Its cobbled streets are lined with half-timbered and stone townhouses, punctuated with bright, sunny squares, parks, and markets. The 19th century make-over that Paris received courtesy of Baron Haussman is largely absent here. Ornate and elaborate government and church buildings date mostly from the 14th-17th centuries. In particular, it boasts a ridiculous density of Gothic churches, notably among them the famous Rouen cathedral, immortalized in a series of paintings by Monet. We enjoyed the striking contrast between the feel of the streets of Rouen and those of Paris.
We visited three different churches, the aforementioned cathedral, St. Ouen, and a third whose name I forget. (All of these are 5-10 minute walk apart.)
We also stopped by the French museum on the history of education and found a very interesting exhibit of class photos over the last 150 years from all over the world. One can infer a lot about cultural and political differences across countries and time by looking at the ethnic and gender compositions, the clothing, the settings, even the facial expressions and the poses in these photos. It was an interesting idea.
Rouen also has a museum of ironwork in a repurposed old church. I loved it, both the diversity of the individual objects displayed as well as the overall aesthetic of the museum.
I was eagerly anticipating the gift shop, but all they had were postcards. (What a remarkable missed opportunity.)
Finally, before catching the train back, we grabbed some very good ice cream at a small shop and enjoyed it and the sun at a sidewalk table. (The honey-rosemary---miel et romarin---was, perhaps, the best one we tried.)
Caroline was leaving today, so Glenn and I played hooky yesterday from work and went with Caroline and Anna to Rouen, a beautiful city in Normandy, a bit more than an hour from Paris by train. Kate still had school, so it was only the four of us. Our day consisted of some of our favorite activities: walking around well-preserved medieval streets, popping into a few museums and churches, and eating.
Rouen, an important port city on the Seine, experienced periods of great prosperity and relative poverty over the last several hundred years, which can be traced through its architecture. Its cobbled streets are lined with half-timbered and stone townhouses, punctuated with bright, sunny squares, parks, and markets. The 19th century make-over that Paris received courtesy of Baron Haussman is largely absent here. Ornate and elaborate government and church buildings date mostly from the 14th-17th centuries. In particular, it boasts a ridiculous density of Gothic churches, notably among them the famous Rouen cathedral, immortalized in a series of paintings by Monet. We enjoyed the striking contrast between the feel of the streets of Rouen and those of Paris. We visited three different churches, the aforementioned cathedral, St. Ouen, and a third whose name I forget. (All of these are 5-10 minute walk apart.)
We also stopped by the French museum on the history of education and found a very interesting exhibit of class photos over the last 150 years from all over the world. One can infer a lot about cultural and political differences across countries and time by looking at the ethnic and gender compositions, the clothing, the settings, even the facial expressions and the poses in these photos. It was an interesting idea.
Rouen also has a museum of ironwork in a repurposed old church. I loved it, both the diversity of the individual objects displayed as well as the overall aesthetic of the museum.
Finally, before catching the train back, we grabbed some very good ice cream at a small shop and enjoyed it and the sun at a sidewalk table. (The honey-rosemary---miel et romarin---was, perhaps, the best one we tried.)
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
Back Together Again
June 20th, 2018
Caroline and Anna are both visiting, so the whole family is here, if but briefly. It's great to see the three girls together. There's a lot of silliness and teasing and dry wit and biting humor, but also a lot of laughing. Last night, for instance, they discussed, at length, the subtle distinctions among four personality traits: shady, salty, spicy, and saucy. Kate identified patterns of emoji usage that would be associated with each trait. There also always seems to be a fair amount of discussion of hair product.
At the beginning of the dinner, one of the girls asked Glenn if he wished he had had a son. He answered, diplomatically, the only way one could. It was not clear that his answer would not have changed over the course of the dinner conversation, though.
We had dinner at Les Fables de la Fontaine, where we all ate very well and happily. (I feel like we're finally hitting our stride, restaurant-wise, six weeks before we have to leave.) Here is a photo of "l'oeuf parfait," which I had as a starter. Everything was fabulous. Glenn's lamb and couscous main dish was especially delicious.
Caroline and Anna are both visiting, so the whole family is here, if but briefly. It's great to see the three girls together. There's a lot of silliness and teasing and dry wit and biting humor, but also a lot of laughing. Last night, for instance, they discussed, at length, the subtle distinctions among four personality traits: shady, salty, spicy, and saucy. Kate identified patterns of emoji usage that would be associated with each trait. There also always seems to be a fair amount of discussion of hair product.
We had dinner at Les Fables de la Fontaine, where we all ate very well and happily. (I feel like we're finally hitting our stride, restaurant-wise, six weeks before we have to leave.) Here is a photo of "l'oeuf parfait," which I had as a starter. Everything was fabulous. Glenn's lamb and couscous main dish was especially delicious.
Pai-Ling's Short Visit
June 20th, 2018
Last weekend, after the visits of Clara and Claudia and of Annette and before the arrival of Anna and Caroline the past couple of days, we were so happy to share dinner here in Paris with a good friend Pai-Ling Yin. The number of connections that Pai-Ling and I have is a little eerie. And perhaps our shared experiences add to the enjoyment I always have when I'm with her.
I first met Pai-Ling when the two of us were both (relatively) young faculty members in Boston. She taught at Harvard Business School and I at MIT, but we crossed paths often because our research interests overlapped---we both studied digitization and the economic effects of the internet. It didn't take long for us to figure out that we had something else in common: we grew up about five miles away from each other in suburban Indianapolis. We attended rival high schools, she at North Central and I at Lawrence Central. (The story would be a bit cooler if we had been in high school at the same time, but, in fact, she is several years younger than I am.) I went on to attend Purdue as an undergraduate, and she went to Indiana University, also rivals. Afterwards, I traveled to England for my masters degree at Cambridge University. Pai-Ling did hers at the London School of Economics. We both returned to the US for our PhDs, me at MIT, Pai-Ling at Stanford. (I guess you could describe Cambridge/LSE and MIT/Stanford to be yet two more pairs of rival institutions, if not in the sports arena, at least academically.)
A few years ago, she left the Boston area and is now on the faculty at USC.
In a refutation of the laws of plane geometry, Pai-Ling and I have had remarkably parallel careers, yet ones that seem to intersect in many different places at many different times. We seem to often end up at conferences together, or temporarily in the same city for some reason. I love chatting with her about our beloved dogs, commiserating about career issues, comparing notes on recent visits to Indiana, etc. The proximate cause of her Paris visit is that, happily, she was assigned as the discussant on my paper for my recent presentation in Munich. The paper is about how the internet is changing the geographic distribution of skills, so I used that as a hook to introduce her at the end of my talk. "We grew up five miles apart from each other in suburban Indianapolis, but it took the internet, in particular the study of it, to bring us together as presenter and discussant half a world away in Munich, Germany." At the end of the conference, she said that she would be in Paris in a couple of weeks working with coauthors and would love to meet for dinner. Yes, of course, I would, too.
We took her on a walk around our neighborhood, with Sandy, going to the dog-friendly parts of the Luxembourg Gardens. We snaked our way through the northern part of the sixth, past Saint Sulpice and the Marché Saint Germain. We talked about the history of Saint Sulpice and how it is now mostly famous because of its organ concerts and its connection with The DaVinci Code. We walked through some of the narrow streets north of Boulevard Saint Germain, settling at Le Christine for a lovely dinner. Afterwards, we walked through Cour du Commerce Saint André, talked a bit about the important events occurring there around the revolution, and ended at Odéon. (One of the best parts of living in Paris is having the opportunity to host so many friends from all over. We feel like this neighborhood is ours and love to show it off to visitors, taking them to our favorite spots and teaching them all about it.)
Pai-Ling is on her way back to California now, but I look forward to the next time we intersect, whether it be Boston, Indianapolis, Munich, Paris, California, or elsewhere.
Last weekend, after the visits of Clara and Claudia and of Annette and before the arrival of Anna and Caroline the past couple of days, we were so happy to share dinner here in Paris with a good friend Pai-Ling Yin. The number of connections that Pai-Ling and I have is a little eerie. And perhaps our shared experiences add to the enjoyment I always have when I'm with her.
I first met Pai-Ling when the two of us were both (relatively) young faculty members in Boston. She taught at Harvard Business School and I at MIT, but we crossed paths often because our research interests overlapped---we both studied digitization and the economic effects of the internet. It didn't take long for us to figure out that we had something else in common: we grew up about five miles away from each other in suburban Indianapolis. We attended rival high schools, she at North Central and I at Lawrence Central. (The story would be a bit cooler if we had been in high school at the same time, but, in fact, she is several years younger than I am.) I went on to attend Purdue as an undergraduate, and she went to Indiana University, also rivals. Afterwards, I traveled to England for my masters degree at Cambridge University. Pai-Ling did hers at the London School of Economics. We both returned to the US for our PhDs, me at MIT, Pai-Ling at Stanford. (I guess you could describe Cambridge/LSE and MIT/Stanford to be yet two more pairs of rival institutions, if not in the sports arena, at least academically.)
A few years ago, she left the Boston area and is now on the faculty at USC.
We took her on a walk around our neighborhood, with Sandy, going to the dog-friendly parts of the Luxembourg Gardens. We snaked our way through the northern part of the sixth, past Saint Sulpice and the Marché Saint Germain. We talked about the history of Saint Sulpice and how it is now mostly famous because of its organ concerts and its connection with The DaVinci Code. We walked through some of the narrow streets north of Boulevard Saint Germain, settling at Le Christine for a lovely dinner. Afterwards, we walked through Cour du Commerce Saint André, talked a bit about the important events occurring there around the revolution, and ended at Odéon. (One of the best parts of living in Paris is having the opportunity to host so many friends from all over. We feel like this neighborhood is ours and love to show it off to visitors, taking them to our favorite spots and teaching them all about it.)
Pai-Ling is on her way back to California now, but I look forward to the next time we intersect, whether it be Boston, Indianapolis, Munich, Paris, California, or elsewhere.
Tuesday, June 19, 2018
Sweet Scents
June 19th, 2018
The vine in our courtyard, the one encasing and concealing the structure for the garbage cans, is in full flower. I think it must be jasmine. For the last couple of weeks we have been greeted with a sweet perfume as we arrive back to our building every day.
Summer in Paris has its charms.
Here are three more photos of flowers, a vine in Astrid's courtyard and a thistle in Parc Montsouris, near our office.
The vine in our courtyard, the one encasing and concealing the structure for the garbage cans, is in full flower. I think it must be jasmine. For the last couple of weeks we have been greeted with a sweet perfume as we arrive back to our building every day.
Summer in Paris has its charms.
Monday, June 18, 2018
Our Favorite Restaurants, Part 2
June 18th, 2018
Months have passed since my first post about our favorite restaurants. Definitely time for an update, since there have been some really good ones. (I still don't often remember/am too embarassed to take photos of my food, so I pulled some food photos off of the internet.)
Les Papilles, which I mentioned and described just a couple of posts ago, is certainly among my favorites I've tried this year. I have gotten used to the few-days-in-advance planning that is adequate for many good restaurants in Paris, but this one requires a bit more: reservations can be a little difficult to secure and must be made a few weeks in advance.
Our friends Thomas Piketty and Julia Cagé introduced us to Le 52 on the rue Fauboug Saint Denis. It is casual and friendly and modern, like a restaurant you might find in a hip neighborhood in some American city. Also, it does not take reservations. It has beautifully-plated and vegetable-centric dishes with unusual combinations of flavors. I have been there twice and have tasted and shared many dishes, every one of which has been delicious. A few that stick in my mind are a quinoa and root vegetable salad, a braised pork with homemade cannelloni and lemon curd, and an architecturally-arranged dessert with pineapple wedges and basil. It is in northern Paris near Strasbourg Saint Denis, a bustling, active, diverse part of Paris (in contrast to our more sedate and, well, homogeneous neighborhood), so it's fun and interesting to just walk around there, too. My friends Sheila and Nazanin also loved it.
La Maison du Jardin, just a short walk from our apartment, has a fairly traditional French-style setting and service, but the food strays a bit from the traditional. I ordered the lamb pastilla, which was a tender braised lamb pie with a light, flaky crust served on a bed of roasted eggplant slices. Desserts there were good as well.
A few months ago we had lunch at Ellsworth, a restaurant near the Louvre run by the same people who run Verjus, my favorite place to eat in Paris. The dishes were the perfect size for lunch (small), and everything was fantastic. Especially noteworthy was the fried chicken with pickles, slaw, and a buttermilk sauce, or, rather, "poulet frit, légumes marinés, choux, lait fermenté." I didn't order it myself, but I tried some of Derek's and it was great. I would like to go back there.
Finally, I'll mention two places that are on our short list to try, Fish La Boissonerie and Les Fables de la Fontaine. I'll report back.
Cooking nightly dinners has become a casualty of my busy work schedule over the past few weeks. I often don't feel like shopping and putting dinner together after I get home at 7pm. But the two-hour sit-down dinner at a restaurant won't always fit the bill, especially not on school nights. So we have also been sampling some of Paris' fast food offerings recently.
None of us are interested in McDonald's or Burger King, both a three-minute walk away, but another American fast food institution has arrived in Paris, to Kate's great delight. She loves Chipotle, and Glenn and I are happy getting a burrito there on occasion. Our local Chipotle also has margaritas. (Mexican and Tex-Mex food is pretty bad in Paris, so Chipotle does sort of fill a void.)
Burgers are definitely having a moment in Paris now. Two new burger places---think something like Five Guys in terms of both quality of food and ambiance---have opened within a couple of blocks of us recently. One is the illogically-named Factory & Company and the other is the too-obviously-named Burger & Fries. We tried both and thought they were ok. Maison Burger and Frog Burger are both a bit further from us, but with somewhat nicer atmosphere. Alternative burger places are big, too, like Ducky's for duck bao, Poulet Poulette for chicken burgers, and, one I especially liked, Shisho Burger for burgers with an Asian twist.
(Updates: We ate at Les Fables de la Fontaine and loved it. Here's a post about it.
https://pariswiththeellisons.blogspot.com/2018/06/back-together-again.html
I thought it would also be useful to add a link to the first post I wrote, earlier this year, about our favorite restaurants.
https://pariswiththeellisons.blogspot.com/2018/02/our-favorite-restaurants-in-paris.html
Finally, here is a photo I took of a delicious lentil and eggplant main dish at Le 52 a couple of days ago.)
Months have passed since my first post about our favorite restaurants. Definitely time for an update, since there have been some really good ones. (I still don't often remember/am too embarassed to take photos of my food, so I pulled some food photos off of the internet.)
Les Papilles, which I mentioned and described just a couple of posts ago, is certainly among my favorites I've tried this year. I have gotten used to the few-days-in-advance planning that is adequate for many good restaurants in Paris, but this one requires a bit more: reservations can be a little difficult to secure and must be made a few weeks in advance.
Finally, I'll mention two places that are on our short list to try, Fish La Boissonerie and Les Fables de la Fontaine. I'll report back.
Cooking nightly dinners has become a casualty of my busy work schedule over the past few weeks. I often don't feel like shopping and putting dinner together after I get home at 7pm. But the two-hour sit-down dinner at a restaurant won't always fit the bill, especially not on school nights. So we have also been sampling some of Paris' fast food offerings recently.
None of us are interested in McDonald's or Burger King, both a three-minute walk away, but another American fast food institution has arrived in Paris, to Kate's great delight. She loves Chipotle, and Glenn and I are happy getting a burrito there on occasion. Our local Chipotle also has margaritas. (Mexican and Tex-Mex food is pretty bad in Paris, so Chipotle does sort of fill a void.)
Burgers are definitely having a moment in Paris now. Two new burger places---think something like Five Guys in terms of both quality of food and ambiance---have opened within a couple of blocks of us recently. One is the illogically-named Factory & Company and the other is the too-obviously-named Burger & Fries. We tried both and thought they were ok. Maison Burger and Frog Burger are both a bit further from us, but with somewhat nicer atmosphere. Alternative burger places are big, too, like Ducky's for duck bao, Poulet Poulette for chicken burgers, and, one I especially liked, Shisho Burger for burgers with an Asian twist.
(Updates: We ate at Les Fables de la Fontaine and loved it. Here's a post about it.https://pariswiththeellisons.blogspot.com/2018/06/back-together-again.html
I thought it would also be useful to add a link to the first post I wrote, earlier this year, about our favorite restaurants.
https://pariswiththeellisons.blogspot.com/2018/02/our-favorite-restaurants-in-paris.html
Finally, here is a photo I took of a delicious lentil and eggplant main dish at Le 52 a couple of days ago.)
Friday, June 15, 2018
Mousse Mystery II, the Sequel: Radishes?
June 15th, 2018
Faithful readers of this blog will recall an earlier post about a theft of chocolate mousse from the courtyard of our building.
http://pariswiththeellisons.blogspot.com/2018/02/the-curious-case-of-missing-mousse.html
No perpetrators were apprehended. No mousse was recovered. The mystery remains unsolved.
Furthermore, many friends of mine will know of my fondness for watermelon radishes. They have just the right combination of sweetness and spiciness, and look beautiful with their bright red, almost magenta, interiors. (They are known as "radis de pastèque" or "radis viande rouge" here, literally "red meat radishes.")
I slice them thin and toss them with a green salad. I marinate slices in a sweet vinegar and oil and serve with salt and pepper. I eat chunks with a touch of butter and some fleur de sel. I have sautéed them. I have even heard of slicing them thin and deep frying them like chips, although I've never tried. Anyhow I love them.
Watermelon radishes are difficult to find in the US, but I know where to look in Boston. (Bear with me---I'll bring this back around to the mousse in a second.) They have been essentially impossible to find here in Paris. So, what could I do other than try to grow my own? So, I ordered seeds over the internet, bought a planter from a local hardware store, and picked up some potting soil from the florist in the Marché Saint Germain.
I planted them in April, placed the planter in the courtyard, and have been lovingly tending them since. (For the record, a number of other people have potted plants in various stages of life in the courtyard. The radishes were not alone.) For weeks, I checked on them anxiously, watering a bit during dry periods, pouring water out of the planter after deluges, and thinning out when I thought it was necessary. The plants seemed to be healthy and thriving, but the radishes were taking a while to form. (I read on the internet that watermelon radishes do take longer to grow than other varieties.)
Well, perhaps you can see where this is going. I came home last week, unable to find the planter. I searched the entire courtyard. After careful inspection, I discovered that the radishes and their potting soil had been dumped out of the planter, and the planter had disappeared. I honestly don't know what would be worse, someone stealing my radishes or someone dumping out and killing my radishes so that they could steal the planter. Emmanuel, the handyman, was down in the courtyard when I made this discovery. He asked me what was wrong. I explained. "Des radis? Est-ce correct?" "Oui. Des radis." I'm not sure that he grasped the gravity. He called Nadia on the phone. She could not say what had happened, either.
What can I do? File a police report? First mousse, then radishes. I guess I must wait until my return to Boston to taste the sweet, peppery crispness of my first watermelon radish of the year.
Faithful readers of this blog will recall an earlier post about a theft of chocolate mousse from the courtyard of our building.
http://pariswiththeellisons.blogspot.com/2018/02/the-curious-case-of-missing-mousse.html
No perpetrators were apprehended. No mousse was recovered. The mystery remains unsolved.
Furthermore, many friends of mine will know of my fondness for watermelon radishes. They have just the right combination of sweetness and spiciness, and look beautiful with their bright red, almost magenta, interiors. (They are known as "radis de pastèque" or "radis viande rouge" here, literally "red meat radishes.")
I slice them thin and toss them with a green salad. I marinate slices in a sweet vinegar and oil and serve with salt and pepper. I eat chunks with a touch of butter and some fleur de sel. I have sautéed them. I have even heard of slicing them thin and deep frying them like chips, although I've never tried. Anyhow I love them.
Watermelon radishes are difficult to find in the US, but I know where to look in Boston. (Bear with me---I'll bring this back around to the mousse in a second.) They have been essentially impossible to find here in Paris. So, what could I do other than try to grow my own? So, I ordered seeds over the internet, bought a planter from a local hardware store, and picked up some potting soil from the florist in the Marché Saint Germain.
I planted them in April, placed the planter in the courtyard, and have been lovingly tending them since. (For the record, a number of other people have potted plants in various stages of life in the courtyard. The radishes were not alone.) For weeks, I checked on them anxiously, watering a bit during dry periods, pouring water out of the planter after deluges, and thinning out when I thought it was necessary. The plants seemed to be healthy and thriving, but the radishes were taking a while to form. (I read on the internet that watermelon radishes do take longer to grow than other varieties.)
Well, perhaps you can see where this is going. I came home last week, unable to find the planter. I searched the entire courtyard. After careful inspection, I discovered that the radishes and their potting soil had been dumped out of the planter, and the planter had disappeared. I honestly don't know what would be worse, someone stealing my radishes or someone dumping out and killing my radishes so that they could steal the planter. Emmanuel, the handyman, was down in the courtyard when I made this discovery. He asked me what was wrong. I explained. "Des radis? Est-ce correct?" "Oui. Des radis." I'm not sure that he grasped the gravity. He called Nadia on the phone. She could not say what had happened, either.
What can I do? File a police report? First mousse, then radishes. I guess I must wait until my return to Boston to taste the sweet, peppery crispness of my first watermelon radish of the year.
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