The American Church in Paris - Sunday, 15 November

The American Church in Paris, established in 1857 on the banks of the Seine at 65, quai d'Orsay, is my favorite Sunday haunt. It’s a non-denominational Protestant church with a very fine preacher and organ/organist, choir, program and building. It seems to be the home of English-speaking expatriates from all over the world – I’ve rarely seen a more racially mixed congregation. People are very friendly and they have a coffee hour after the service each Sunday. They also host concerts on many Sunday afternoons and have extensive services (a job board, housing announcements, classes, discussion groups, etc.) for English speaking people - the "Bloom Where You're Planted" publication and program developed by the women of the church is the best resource for living in Paris that I've seen anywhere.

This Sunday the service music plus a prelude and postlude was provided by the traveling Ibstock Place School Choir from Richmond Park in southwest London. They were excellent, singing a wide range of music by Dyson, Harris, Goodall, Duruflé, Stainer, Franck, Mozart, Fauré and Long.
Here’s a photo of them and one of the sanctuary.

It was stewardship Sunday (it’s a pandemic!), and they also had a mini “ministries fair” in the theater adjoining the sanctuary during coffee time after the service. Clever idea!



There’s not much else to do on a Sunday morning in Paris, so I highly recommend The American Church for some spiritual rejuvenation and blessing! The #63 bus stops right outside the door, and it runs on Sundays. Be sure to drop a few euros (or dollars or whatever you have – they take it all) in the offering plate.

Frenchie - Saturday, 14 November

One of the hottest new restaurants in town (it opened this spring) is just down the block, at the north end of the rue Montorgueil district. It’s called “Frenchie” – kind of an odd name here, but it was the nickname of the young (French) chef/owner, Gregory Marchand, when he worked at Gramercy Tavern in NYC and with Jamie Oliver in London (“hey Frenchie, sauté these onions,” “hey Frenchie, fillet this fish,” you get the idea). The only reservation I could get was for 10:30 tonight! It's a tiny spot (24 seats), stone and brick walls, timbered ceiling, casual feel, the street is a bit shabby – but, hey, start small and humble, and then let the world push you to greater heights!

Chef Marchand offers only two “menus” (you can choose two courses (first and main) or three (first, main and dessert)). Two choices are available for each course, and the menu changes daily. His kitchen is TINY, so offering two choices per course makes a lot of sense! I’m guessing that he plans for two “seatings” per evening – 8:00 and 10:30. It is also open for lunch.

For my first course I chose the filet of warm house-smoked brook trout on a bed of puréed celeriac with pickled chanterelle mushrooms and pickled onions. The trout was sweet and tender and just smoky enough – it just melted in your mouth. I believe that the purée contained both celeriac and potatoes – it was perfectly silky and creamy and slightly earthy in flavor. The tiny chanterelles had been pickled with a little sugar, I think, and a strip of them, with their thick and slightly sweet pickle sauce, was spooned onto the plate running parallel to the fish. Six beautiful rings of sharp crunchy pickled onions (inner rings, about 1 inch in diameter, a lovely light red color – I’m guessing that they were made from red-skinned onions) ran parallel to the top of the fish. Aromatic thyme was scattered on top of the fish. It was just fabulous – beautiful presentation, aroma, textures, taste and balance. A couple slices of what was, I believe, Eric Kayser's baguette "Monge" (after all, Kayser's bakery is just a block away) served as perfect edible sponges for making sure I got every drop of goodness on my plate!

For my main course I chose the porkbelly with green “Puy” lentils, red cabbage bouillon and raw cauliflower. Slices of the crispy-crusted, beautifully tender porkbelly were simply arranged on top of a bed of perfectly cooked lentils (not too mushy, but tender and fully cooked, no extraneous flavors). Some very tiny flowerettes of tender and sweet raw cauliflower (how do they grow it like this?!?) were sprinkled over the dish. The waiter placed the bowl in front of me and then said “wait…” while he went to retrieve a little pitcher of the amazing red cabbage bouillon to pour over and around the dish. Actually, I think the bouillon was a “gastrique” (generally made with caramelized sugar, vinegar, some kind of juice, and then reduced reduced reduced) wherein the liquid was a reduction of the strained water that came from cooking some red cabbage. In any case it was wonderful! The acidic tang of the bouillon against the sweetness of the pork and lentils was magical. Great French chefs seem to have a knack for these kinds of combos – not overly complicated or too many elements, but beautifully balanced and whimsical and fun to eat and they “work.” Chef Marchand is well on his way.

For dessert I chose “pots au chocolat” with “marrons glacé” and caramelized Clementine slices. “Pots au chocolat” are little ceramic ramekins or bowls in which a dense fudgy usually bittersweet chocolate custard has been baked. “Marrons glacé” are chestnuts that have been candied in a sugar syrup – a real treat on their own, and often served with ice cream and/or fruit desserts. Chef Marchaud topped his pots au chocolate with a quenelle of crème fraîche and then arranged some thin strips of Clementine zest on top. Tiny pieces of crystallized something-or-another (seeds? nuts?) were sprinkled on the plate. Yum yum! A great cup of dark but not bitter espresso finished off the meal in style!

The list of wines offered by the glass/carafe was written with white grease pencil on a huge mirror – very clever, but impossible to read from my table. But that didn’t stop me from ordering a lovely Côtes du Rhône that went well with everything! (Wines by the bottle were on a printed list.)

The place has a friendly, casual feel. The one waiter wore jeans, a white shirt, a long white waiter’s apron, and tennis shoes. He took care of everything in the front of the house from a quarter-circular bar in the corner next to the kitchen, and was attentive without being hovering. Chef Marchand was, I believe, working alone in his tiny kitchen (except for someone washing the pots/pans/dishes). A pass-through window gave me occasional glimpses of him at the stove or oven or bench, and since I was almost the last person to leave this evening I was able to chat with him for a minute and take his picture. The clock over the pass-through was stuck (I think intentionally) at 10:09 - something about that made me feel un-rushed and calm! Light in the dining room came from several sources, but the coolest were some big spherical transparent lightbulbs with giant horizontal elements, simply suspended from the ceiling with black rods. (Click on the photo to the left, or any other photo in this blog, to see a larger image.)

My fellow diners appeared to be mostly French. The exception was a table of six 20-something American girls. Americans almost always stick out in restaurants – we tend to be very loud – and these girls were LOUD! In a tiny restaurant with hard surfaces everywhere this can be a bit unpleasant. When they left, a lovely calm descended over the room! One other table contained four French guys. Before departing each of them went to shake the waiter’s hand and to offer congratulations and thanks to chef Marchand (I heard “excellent” and “continuer”) – this kind of personal connection is a hallmark of customer/provider interactions, at least in small establishments, in France.

The pricetag for a great meal and a wonderful evening’s entertainment? Only 43€, about $63.00. This restaurant is regarded as one of the “best value” places in town, and I can see why! Go there soon! www.frenchie-restaurant.com

Scenes in the 'Hood - Friday, 13 November

Just a few scenes, all food- or hospitality-related (are you surprised?) in my neighborhood. All of this is within two blocks of my apartment.





























And, by the way, this is the famous Stohrer bakery, not a jewelry shop!!!

“Joyaux” (and “Joyeux”) at l’Opéra Garnier – Thursday, 12 November

Tonight I finally had the astonishing good fortune of attending a performance, actually a ballet, at l’Opéra Garnier.

There are two primary opera houses in Paris – Palais Garnier and Bastille. The Palais Garnier was built from 1862 to 1875 and is almost overwhelmingly ornate. I’ve never been inside the Opéra Bastille, which opened in 1989, but it strikes me as much more, well, um, functional.

Here are some photos of the building, my “box” - it contained a door, a vestibule with a bench and coat hooks and a mirror, and six fancy (and fairly comfortable) chairs) - and the view from my box.


























The ballet was called “Joyaux,” which means “jewels.” I had mistranslated it in my head, thinking it meant “joyful,” but that word is “joyeux.” But, by happy coincidence, it turned out to be both!

This elegant, joyful, graceful, tender, noble and even humorous ballet was choreographed by George Balanchine in 1967 and brought into the repertoire of the Paris Opera in 2000. The GORGEOUS new costumes were designed for this production by Christian Lacroix. Two guest dancers from the New York City Ballet (Ashley Bouder and Gonzalo Garcia) joined Ballet de l'Opéra. In the pit was Orchestre de l’Opéra National de Paris, directed by Kevin Rhodes. The ballet consists of three sections: the very romantic “Emeraudes” (emeralds) danced to excerpts from Fauré’s “Pelléas and Mélisande” and “Shylock”, the more modern and almost Broadway-style “Rubis” (rubies) danced to Stravinsky’s “Capriccio” for piano and orchestra, and the classical-style “Diamants” (diamonds) danced to excerpts from Tchaikovsky’s Symphony #3. It was an experience of a lifetime. Of course, I couldn’t take photos during the performance, so these shots of pages from my program book will have to suffice!

La Soupe à l’Oignon Gratinée – Thursday, 12 November

Just in case you were wondering what French Onion Soup is supposed to look like, here ya go! The famous Au Pied du Cochon ("At the Foot of the Pig") restaurant, established in 1946, serves the absolutely quintessential bowl of it. The recipe is pretty simple – just roast a ton of thinly sliced onions very slowly for a few hours to caramelize them, add water (or maybe chicken or veal or beef stock, but preferably just use the juice exuded by roasting the onions and some water), season with salt and pepper, pour it over some toasted baguette slices in a bowl, toss a large heap of Gruyère cheese on top, and pop it under the broiler. It’s tempting to take shortcuts or to use something other than the best Gruyère, but I implore you to resist those temptations!

Or take a trip to Paris and eat the real thing at Au Pied du Cochon. It’s located next to the spectacular church of Saint Eustache in central Paris’ Les Halles district, the area that for centuries (I’m not exaggerating – from 1183 to 1971) served as the wholesale and retail food market of the city (you can read a vivid depiction of it in Émile Zola’s novel "The Fat and the Thin"). The restaurant is open 24x7, and it’s a lively place, even at 11 p.m. (when I was there)! Its fanciful fruit-basked chandeliers are a sight to behold – here is a snapshot of the one over my table and another shot of the restaurant. They also are very famous for their pigsfeet (hence the name), fresh oysters, fish, shellfish, etc., but a slightly chilly November evening is the time for French Onion Soup (in my humble, but outspoken, opinion!)! And I'm so lucky - it's just a couple blocks as the pigeon flies (or five blocks as the streets twist) from the apartment I'm renting.

http://www.pieddecochon.com/en/
 

Jardins du Luxembourg - Thursday, 12 November

I took a short stroll in Luxembourg Gardens this morning, and thought you might like to see some snapshots. This is an enormous (more than 60 acres) set of gardens in the heart of Paris, just on the south end of the Latin Quarter and very close to the Sorbonne. The large palace on the grounds was built for Marie de Médicis in 1620. It contains formal terraces, gravel paths, a giant pond (on which kids launch toy sailboats in the summer), a candy stand, a coffee shop, orchards with 300 varieties of apples, an apiary (that apparently gives beekeeping lessons), a bandstand, pony rides, chess tables, tennis courts, graceful sculptures, a merry-go-round, and thousands of benches and chairs in which to relax. Who says city living is confining?

I gotta say it was very thoughtful of them to plant a big bed of maroon and gold mums in honor of Duluth Denfeld High School to commemorate my visit!!!

Here’s a panorama of the pond and area closest to the palace. Ain’t technology grand?!? My new camera came with software that can automatically analyze and “knit together” a set of photos into a panorama.


And here’s the statue of Sainte Geneviève, patron saint of Paris. My guidebook says of her: “By the early fifth century, Roman rule had effectively collapsed in northern Gaul. In the ensuing chaos, the exemplary life of Ste-Geneviève – and the threat of war – helped confirm many converts in the new faith. As the legend goes, in 451 Attila the Hun and his army were approaching Paris. Its people prepared to flee, but Geneviève told them to stay, saying the Hun would spare their city so long as they repented of their sins and prayed with her. Miraculously, Attila moved off to the south. Geneviève was acclaimed savior of Paris.” What a woman! My kind of heroine!

What Young Waiters are Wearing these Days - Wednesday, 11 November

I had a bit of cognitive dissonance at my little café on the corner at noon today. All of a sudden I noticed what my waiter was wearing – a Vikings sweatshirt – and I temporarily forgot where I was! I asked him if he was a Vikings fan, and told him that I was from Minnesota. He said he had never been there, but he liked the logo. Go figure. And GO VIKES!

(BTW, he also delivered a quite tasty lunch of endive salad with walnuts and mustard vinaigrette, 1/2 roast chicken, fries and a glass of Côtes du Rhône. So I quickly remembered where I was!)

Passages - Wednesday, 11 November

Scattered throughout Paris you’ll these find wonderful shopping/commercial arcades called “Passage” or “Galerie.” There’s one at the end of my block called Passage du Grand Cerf – you can see its entrance (the arched opening in the background) in this photo I took from my living room window this morning. These arcades are usually narrow (taking the place of what would be a cobblestone street), glass-roofed, about four stories high, and situated between two buildings. Each side is typically lined with shops, restaurants, artisan studios, etc. Passage du Grand Cerf was built in 1835 and contains jewelers, florists, antique dealers, home/office furnishings (the giant turquoise tiled vases were in their window), upholstery shops, a condiments shop, etc.

The restaurant my friends and I enjoyed last night, Passage 53, was in Passage des Panoramas, the earliest surviving Passage (built in 1800), about a mile northwest of my apartment. Over 100 Passages existed in 1840; now only about 20 remain, but many of them are apparently being renovated and brought back to life.

You might think that they would be rather claustrophobic, but because of all the light reaching the interior and because they’re so tall, they really are quite comfortable, especially in inclement weather! I think I’ll have to make a project of visiting all the Passages in town. I now have two more of them checked off my list (I visited a couple others a few years ago)!