Bon Dimanche

We had many things to celebrate on Sunday: the end of the Thanksgiving holiday weekend, our first snowfall and a brief respite of a couple weeks until our next visitors. After a Saturday of light snow on and off throughout the day, we woke up to blue skies and puffy white clouds. Emmett had been under the weather this past week, so we'd kept him indoors since Monday. We figured it was time to give him some fresh air, so we bundled him up in 5 layers and two hats and set out.

We started the day with our usual Sunday ritual of going to our favorite outdoor market near our apartment, the Richard-Lenoir marché. Located near Place de la Bastille, it is one of Paris's biggest and best outdoor markets with over 200 merchants. It is a riot of smells, colors, and sounds and we've always loved it. In the past couple months, I've found my favorite seller of fruits and vegetables (always a huge line, but always the sweetest, freshest produce); my favorite fromager whose not only patient with my French, but warm and gracious each time we see each other; a terrific stand that carries only mushrooms and herbs; and the only pâtisserière in the entire market who sells beautiful tarts, cakes, and pastries.

For David, no Sunday is complete without chichis (churros). For me, no visit to the market is complete without a stop at the Jacky Lorenzo seafood stall.

Did I ever tell you that I buy all my seafood from Tom Cruise? We buy seafood from him twice a week and try not to make it look too obvious that I'm there to not just ogle the fruits de mer (seafood).

Since we share a common passion for ice cream, a celebration in Paris must include a trip to Berthillon, known to many ice cream lovers as the best ice cream in the world. It is certainly Paris's most famous ice cream.

Berthillon is located on the l'Ile-St.-Louis, a little island within the city of Paris surrounded by the Seine River and accessible by several bridges; it is a leisurely 20-minute walk from our apartment. Instead of getting ice cream cones to-go this time, we decided to sit in their salon de thé and enjoy a more leisurely treat. The three of us were seated next to a friendly woman and her 13-year old daughter with whom I practiced my French and they practiced their English. Emmett, (le petit jambon) smiled and played peek-a-boo with them...until our desserts arrived and then he was all business.

David had a Vacherin: one scoop each of framboise (raspberry) sorbet and chocolate ice cream with raspberry sauce, créme Chantilly, and meringues. I had three little scoops of ice cream -- chocolat, caramel au beurre salé (caramel of salted butter), and marron glacé (candied chestnut) -- with a tiny pot of warmed chocolate sauce. (The caramel ice cream was my favorite of the trio.)

Even Emmett got to enjoy a treat on this special day: a thick slice of pain perdu ("lost bread", a.k.a. French toast). It was, by far, the best French toast I have ever tasted: a thick slice of brioche bread that had been dipped in a mixture of egg, vanilla, and sugar and then pan-fried until caramelized and buttery. Emmett required no coaxing whatsoever to open his mouth wide for the warm chunks of lightly sweet toast.

Berthillon
31, rue Saint-Louis-en-l'Ile (4th arr.)