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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