Running away from the scene of the crime....

Celebrity Sighting!

Scotia, David, and I had dinner out tonight because our tiny refrigerator was empty, and none of our favorite fromageries, boucheries, and boulangeries are open on Mondays. We returned to our old haunt Chez Omar near our apartment where we always feel welcome and where they are always so nice to Emmett.

We were seated in our usual "no-smoking club" and had just ordered when I spotted Yoko Ono being seated at a table nearby! Because I'm always accused of false celebrity sightings, I had to verify my claim with Scotia and David. Fully expecting to be told I was wrong again, I was both shocked and pleased to find that I was correct! Not only that, a few minutes later, they asked to be moved to the table *right next to us*!!! AND, after sitting down at their new table, she switched places with another woman in her party so that she was right next to Emmett (we're not sure why they switched).

We barely managed to behave ourselves. Scotia forgot to eat for 15 minutes and drank all her wine too quickly. I dropped a forkful of couscous into my lap, and David started talking rather loudly as he does sometimes when he's nervous. Emmett was, in fact, the most appropriately behaved person at the table (and he was staring).

But the staring caught her attention and she was so nice to Emmett. She talked to him throughout dinner, patted him several times, and seemed quite charmed by him even though he was staring at her. (I think her sunglasses were fascinating to him.) She seemed amused as she watched him eat spoonfuls of chicken, couscous, vegetables, yogurt, and Oatios while playing with two sugarcubes, one in each little fist.



We debated about whether to ask for a photo after they finished dinner and ultimately decided that for the comfort of everyone, we'd leave them alone. David was able to get a photo of Emmett with her in the background, but that was as far as we ventured. When she left, she left him four more sugarcubes on his tray, patted him good-bye, and whisked herself away with her party.

We had family come visit last week!

Uncle David, Aunt Ellen (from China Bee), and cousins Nancy and Richard arrived for an 8-day stay. Aunt Ellen studied French in college over 30 years ago, but this was her first time to France. We were honored to be able to host them on their first of what we hope to be many future visits to Paris. We also celebrated Uncle David's 60th Birthday while they were here.

Side note: Diapers here are really expensive. We complained about the price to my parents who must have related it to my aunt and uncle because they arrived with over 120 Huggies diapers, crammed into every nook, cranny, and fold in their suitcases! We now have a suitcase filled to overflowing with diapers... all for the little prince.



On their first day here, we took them on a walk around our neighborhood to visit our favorite haunts, including our favorite local park (Square du Temple) and the Place des Vosges.


Square du Temple


Place des Vosges

The next day, we met with Aunt Ellen's college classmate, Auntie Cynthia, who now lives in Paris with her Chinese-French husband and their two daughters. We had lunch at her house, followed by dessert at Le Train Bleu, located at Gare de Lyon.

The Belle Epoque-style restaurant had soaring ceilings painted with murals and had a clubby atmosphere. Business men in suits dined alongside well-heeled tourists. So imagine my surprise when the the waitstaff expressed great pleasure in seeing a baby in the restaurant. I was a bit nervous to bring him into such a elegant restaurant, but within minutes, we were surrounded by the staff who instantly adopted him as their own. One of our servers asked to hold him and later shared a photo of her 3-year old, Mateo. The maitre'd asked to hold him, as well, and paraded him around to the other staff near the door. I love the people in this city!





The next night, David and I hosted our first Paris dinner party for Aunt Ellen's friend, Auntie Cynthia and her family. It was a fabulous evening of comfort food, wine, champagne, cheese, bread, laughter, and fabulous little desserts.


Friday night was Uncle David's 60th Birthday! Since it was a special occasion, we wanted to take them somewhere festive and very Parisian. David chose La Coupole in the Montparnasse neighborhood, one of the grand old restaurants of Paris.




Our server, Lyes, was quite a character. He was our entertainment for the evening.


I ordered their house choucroute: various cuts of pork with sauerkraut and potatoes, cooked in Riesling wine. It was quite tasty.

Choucroute

Finally, we had fun cooking a few meals at home by gathering some ingredients at the farmers' market and assembling our own seafood platter.





We were all very sad to watch them pack up and go home. I'm not sure who had more fun on this trip, them or us.

After having lived here for 1 month, I have a few confessions:

1. I still cannot conduct an entire transaction in French without the use of hand gestures and pointing, or worse, English. Emmett probably understands much more French than I do, and I'm certain that if he could talk, he'd say something like, "Mom, I'll save us all the angst. Here's what s/he said...." I can get by on my side with phrases and words I know, but if either I or the merchant tries to complicate things by asking a question, I'm thrown. I love learning this language though and relish this opportunity.
2. I have not yet ridden the bus.
3. I have not stepped foot inside any of my favorite museums, although after revisiting the Musee Rodin, it is now on my list of favorites.
4. I have not had a cup of espresso, coffee, or tea.
5. David and I have not had a meal out by ourselves. (Can that be?... Standing at a cafe drinking hot chocolate and eating gelato on the run while Emmett was with Anabel for a couple hours doesn't count. I guess I'm not counting our dinner out with (big) Emmet and Chris either.)
6. I have not yet purchased any clothes in Paris. I did buy a pair of shoes, though.
7. My cooking has not progressed beyond seared or broiled fish, roasted or sauteed vegetables, pasta, salads, and scrambled or fried eggs. Part of the reason is that we are limited by the cookware and kitchen utensils, but I can be more creative than this.
8. I miss having a microwave. It's funny because we hardly thought of it as a necessity at home...until Emmett starting eating solid foods. Now when we want to heat or defrost his food, we place his portion into a ceramic bowl, put the bowl in a pot of water, cover the pot with its lid, and wait several minutes for the water to boil in order to steam his food. Gone are the days of 30-second meal prep. The same process takes place with eating leftovers, too.
9. I haven't found nonfat milk here, so I'm "forced" to drink demi-creme milk (not quite whole milk, but close!). And it is sooo good! It's going to be hard to go back to nonfat again....
10. The smell of cigarette smoke in enclosed spaces still irritates the heck out of me. Call me a soft Californian, but I don't understand why so many people smoke in restaurants and around their children. The smoke deadens the tastebuds and one's sense of smell, and it diminishes the appetite. Why?
11. I still haven't acquired a taste for bleu cheese. I've tried for months to get used to the taste and conquer my distaste for it, but I have a long way to go. I sampled a bleu cheese at Mike and Jeannie's dinner that was quite good, but that was the closest I ever got to enjoying it.
12. Emmett, I hope you understand when you read this someday. As much as I love introducing Emmett to Paris (I love having him here with us in this trip), part of me misses seeing Paris without a baby. On previous trips, one of our favorite things to do was to explore Paris at night. We'd wander to different parts of town, eat late dinners, marvel at the lights surrounding buildings and monuments, and treat ourselves to ice cream. We have taken Emmett out and about at night, but we also want to have him home at a reasonable hour to get a good night's sleep. I also miss the freedom to explore museums, landmarks, stores, and neighborhoods without worrying about the time. I know in a few years he'll begin to appreciate some of these aspects of Paris more.
13. I have not eaten enough cheese since arriving.
14. I have not acquired more knowledge of wine, even though I drink it more than I did at home.
15. I don't miss Asian food.
16. I don't miss driving.
17. I haven't made a friend yet. Acquaintances, yes, but no one I can call up for a chat or a walk.

... To be continued, I'm sure

Chocolate and Ice Cream in Lyon

Last thoughts on Lyon and I'll move on...

One of our favorite pasttimes while traveling is searching for homemade, local ice cream and chocolate. Part of the reason for our visit to Lyon was to sample these two treats.

Walking into Richart was like stepping into an upscale cosmetics boutique. The air was cool, there were cabinets and counters filled with chocolate behind glass, and the walls were pristine and white. I felt like I had to whisper (we were the only customers in the store for quite some time). Not the warmest, friendliest chocolate shop I've ever been to, but we went ahead and ogled anyway. We pressed our noses against the glass counters and pointed and salivated over the unique flavors and designs. The varieties of fillings for the chocolates made there are amazing, and each delicate silk-screened chocolate was almost too beautiful to eat. Almost.


Richart



Bernachon was a store I read about in David Lebovitz's Great Book of Chocolate. We made our pilgrimage there in the late morning, just in time for me to enjoy two scoops of ice cream there, chocolate and caramel. There's nothing like eating ice cream for breakfast!
The store was gleaming and brightly-lit with a similar boutique-y feeling to it, but much larger. The women working there (I only saw women behind the counter) were dressed in the same pink scoopneck dresses -- apparently the "uniform." The woman who helped us was very sweet, spoke some English, and reminded me of Julia Ormond in appearance.
The chocolates here seemed much more accessible than the Richart... not as polished or decorated, but still very beautiful to look at. While the Richart store felt more like a museum where the chocolates were on display; Bernachon felt more like an elegant boutique. The pastry case shimmered with shiny pastries, but we were here for the chocolates, and we were not disappointed. There were so many shapes and varieties of fillings and it took us almost an hour to decide which to buy to taste and which to buy as gifts. We ended up not buying *too* much -- primarily a box for us to take home to Paris to share with dinner guests.

Bernachon

Later that day, we drove to Tain l'Hermitage to visit the Valrhona store, about 45 minutes south of Lyon. The storefront was easy to find and we miraculously found parking right outside. The scene was very different inside compared to the other two chocolate destinations. It was a mob scene and reminded me of a Godiva store in the U.S., but crammed with people. There was a line of visitors waiting to have their orders taken by the two women behind the counter who wore aprons and looked like friendly aunts. Halloween decorations were up and the crowd seemed friendly, despite the jostling... and we soon discovered why. I started at one end of the long glass counter filled with chocolates and noticed a little dish filled with chocolate-covered nuts. I helped myself to one, thinking, "What a treat, a little sample. I could use a little pick-me-up." One foot away, I noticed another dish filled with little chocolate-covered somethings (cookies) and called David over. As he came over carrying Emmett, I looked further down the line and realized that the ENTIRE GLASS CASE was lined with dishes filled with chocolate samples!! Not just chocolate-covered somethings, but FILLED chocolates -- chocolates they were selling in the case. I was totally conflicted -- do I go down the line and sample one of every variety of filled chocolate and make a pig of myself, or do I just savor a couple here and there?

I ended up doing a combination of both: I picked up a few filled chocolates at the beginning and then became more selective further down the line. In addition to the bowls of filled chocolates, there were smaller bowls of chocolate chunks, chocolate squares, and other chocolate treats scattered throughout the store. I practiced my usual restraint and only sampled one little morsel of each. As I nibbled, I had to keep saying, "Sorry, Emmett, you can't have any." Poor little guy... doesn't know yet what he's missing!

Valrhona

Finally, ice cream is one of our passions, so when I read about an artisanal ice cream made in Lyon that had been around for decades, we had to seek it out. Ets Nardone is a nondescript looking little storefront. All it consists of is the freezer filled with at least 48 ice cream/sorbet flavors and tables and chairs. It took us a while to decide, but I ended up with my old favorites: chocolate, caramel, and rice. David had a scoop of cassis (black currant). Emmett sampled his first taste and made funny faces because it was so cold (despite that he kept coming back for more). We had to capture it on camera!

I'm sorry for not posting this past week. We've had family visiting.

A few more comments about Lyon and I'll move on...
Our Lyon bed & breakfast

After a harrowing drive through the city of Lyon without a good map, we found an oasis at La Maison d'Hôtes du Greillon

The location of the bed and breakfast was at the top of a hill overlooking the city of Lyon. Built in the late 18th century, the house once belonged to a well-known sculptor named Chinard. A long flight of stairs to the front gate made it tricky to transport our luggage, but it was a minor inconvenience once we stepped inside the house.


Each of the five bedrooms was decorated in muted tones of red, blue, yellow, pink, and beige (we had the beige room). The room was quiet and spacious -- a total oasis. Emmett loved having all the space to roam around. Our bed (queen size?) was luxuriously firm (unlike our soft, squishy, less-than full-size mattress in Paris) and fitted with crisp, white, high-thread count sheets. Pure heaven. We all got two great nights' sleep. Each room had it's own balcony overlooking the garden.


Staying here rekindled our fantasy of someday owning or helping to run a bed & breakfast. The owner was hosting a party for friends and family at the house over the weekend, so we got to witness some of the party preparations...and it got us thinking, "Wouldn't it be great to have a bed and breakfast and be able to use it to throw our own parties?" (!!!) What was also great about staying at a B & B with Emmett was having the use of their kitchen, dishes, and refrigerator to heat up and store his food.

Le petit dejeuner at La Maison was very simple: a basket of croissants and breads, homemade jams and preserves, yogurt, and coffee/tea/juice.

We're back from Lyon about 10 pounds heavier, and boy, it is indeed a gastronome's fantasy come true: amazing chocolates, yummy wines, restaurants galores, and delicious ice cream. I think I need to post separate entries for each our favorite highlights in Lyon. I'll start with our meals.

(Um, yes, there were many museums, churches, historical monuments, and beautiful architecture to explore (not to mention lots of shopping), but because our visit was so short, we mostly concentrated on satisfying our "culinary curiosity" this time: what is all the fuss with Lyonnais fare?)

We arrived on Thursday, settled into our bed and breakfast, and walked to Vieux Lyon, a charming neighborhood of medieval and Renaissance buildings, narrow cobblestone paths, ancient staircases, and one-of-a-kind bakeries, wine shops, toy stores, and cafés. I forgot to bring my 10-page "Lyon research" document from Paris, so we were left to our own devices this weekend in terms of finding places to eat. I asked the owner of a newstand and the owner of a toy store for recommendations. The woman at the toy store drew us a little map to one of her favorite restaurants called "Le Comptoir du Boeuf". None of the restaurants opened until at least 7:00 p.m. so we had time to read menus and get a sense of what was available. We considered a few other restaurants whose menus looked promising, but ultimately decided on Le Comptoir.

When we first walked in, I was tempted to turn around and walk out. The restaurant was completely empty, and the proprietress who was reading a newspaper at the counter, looked up rather disapprovingly when we opened the door and wheeled in a stroller. She said something in French that I didn't hear, but David explained that we had brought our own booster chair for Emmett. (Meanwhile, I was murmuring to David, "I think we should go... maybe she doesn't want us here....") But she waved us in and it was too late to back out.

She lead us to a non-smoking room in the back and watched with interest as David set up the booster seat for Emmett (the First Years' Fold-N-Go booster seat is one piece of baby equipment we could not be without! Many restauranteurs and other diners have looked on, fascinated, as we set it up.) When she saw Emmett sitting up in his chair at the marble table, she was charmed and said in French, "Just like a normal person!" Madame gave us our menus, asked what Emmett would like to eat (we told her we packed food for him), and offered to heat up his food. Then she proceeded into the kitchen where we overheard her telling the cooks about the "Chinoise", "the bébé", and something about his food. Sure enough, one of the cooks came out and asked if he could heat Emmett's food for him. We were at the start of a fabulous first meal in Lyon.


David and I each ordered a prix-fixe menu. Since both of us love tripe, you bet we ordered some piggy-part menu items. We started with a plate of Lyonnais pork in the form of oeuf mollet, jambonneau, and poitrine. It was all very tasty over the salad. We also shared a plate of their house terrine, made of pork and rabbit, with onion confit.



Next, we moved on to our main courses. I had an andouillette grillee a la moutarde violette (tripe sausage in a mustard sauce) and David had pied-pacquets avec gratin de macaroni (calves feet stuffed with lamb tripe and a side of macaroni and cheese). Dessert was nougat glacé avec coulis de fruits rouges (nougat ice cream with fruit coulis) and blanc manger a la bergamote, sauce caramel et beurre demi-sel (a dessert similar in texture to créme caramel).



But what really left an impression with us was the friendship that was struck between la Madame and Emmett. The restaurant began filling up briskly soon after we were seated and the owner was both serving dishes, putting orders into the kitchen, and answering questions about the menu. Yet, in the midst of all this, she found time to stop and give Emmett words of encouragement, little pats on the head, and squeezes on his hand. When he finished his dinner, she planted a kiss on his forehead, asked to hold him, and sat with him on his lap as for at least ten minutes as David and I finished our meal. She called out to another patron that she was "le babysitter ce soir" and let Emmett pat her face and bounce on her knee. Before we left, she gave him his first madeline (his first sweet French pastry -- how appropriate) and showered him with kisses. She was Emmett's first French grand-mère.

The next day, we set out to have lunch in the center of Lyon at a restaurant recommended by the owner of our bed and breakfast and listed in our Lonely Planet France guide. She said it was rustic food in a pleasant environment that would be very appropriate for Emmett. Sure enough, we arrived at Gaston Restaurant Agricole to find two huge brown rabbits in cages out front and a tractor parked inside. The decor was indeed like a farmhouse and rustic, but the servers were all very hip- looking young twentysomethings. We ordered a buffet menu and roast chicken.


Once again, I cannot emphasize enough how affectionate the French, young and old, have been with Emmett. It bowls us over every time. Within 30 seconds of walking in the door with Emmett in the Bjorn, one of the young pretty servers approached Emmett and planted a little kiss on his forehead, as if she had been expecting him. Once we were seated, she took his baby food to be warmed and presented it on a litte white plate with a teeny Emmett-sized spoon. Throughout our lunch, she stopped by at least a dozen times to stroke his hair, watch him eat, make him smile, and blow him kisses. She even fed him a spoonful of baby food, much to his and her delight. Unbelieveable. I hope she has many adorable children some day. The food was along the same line as the decor: more terrines, sliced hams, cold vegetables, and tasty roast chicken. Why do French chickens taste so much more like chicken than American chickens?


Dinner was at a small, homey bistro called Le Contretete, another restaurant recommendation from our bed and breakfast. It is adjacent to the upscale and famed Tetedoie, where we were invited to visit after dinner (after our visit to the gleaming, hushed dining room, we decided we'd come back sans Emmett on a future trip). Le Contretete was another perfect choice with Emmett in tow. We got a roomy table at a booth and service was warm and efficient. Dinner was good, but the highlight was dessert: a flaming creme brulee for David and a demi St. Marcellin cheese--a cheese for which Lyon is famous--for me.

Finally, we had read all about the famous bouchons of Lyon: charming rustic bistros serving hearty home cooking that features seasonal vegetables and organ meats. Many restaurants in Lyon call themselves bouchons, but in reality, there are only 21 certified, authentic bouchons. There is an accreditation board called the Associations des Authentiques Bouchons Lyonnais which determines whether the restaurant is a true bouchon. I was never able to find a list of the 21 certified bouchons, but discovered that there is a symbol that is posted outside of certified bistros.



Eating at a bouchon was harder than we thought. We found out too late that almost all bouchons are closed on weekends, most require reservations, and it was virtually impossible to walk into a bouchon and expect to be seated, even when we arrived on the early side (7:30 p.m.).

For our last dinner in Lyon on Saturday night, we had all but given up hope that we would be able to eat at a true bouchon on this trip. We had no reservations, most of the bouchons were closed because it was a Saturday, and we were turned away at the bouchon we did stumble across next to our hotel. It was getting too late, but there was one restaurant near our hotel that had the "authentic bouchon" symbol in the window where I was sure we wouldn't be able to get a table because there was a crowd of people waiting outside. Magically, we were seated as soon as we asked if there was a table free.


We were seated upstairs at Le Mercière, and we each ordered a prix-fixe menu. I started with a Terrine de coquilles St Jacques façon Mercière (a scallop terrine); David started with Fond d'artichaut au foie gras Mère Brazier (an artichoke heart salad with foie gras). Both were amazing, both in taste and to the eye. Both the restaurant and the food were just slightly more refined than our previous dinners, but the prices were comparable: about 22€ per person for 4 courses, not including wine. Next, David had steak in a St. Marcellin cheese sauce while I had cuisse de volaille farcie, riz Basmati aux mouilles (a chicken leg with basmati rice). Dessert was more cheese (!!!) and then sorbet and chocolate fondant cake.

Can someone write us a prescription for Lipitor?

Off to Lyon!

On the advice of our friends and fellow foodies Betty and Gary, we are taking a long weekend (Thursday through Sunday) in Lyon, the gastronomic capital of France! Even better, the Lyon and Rhone Valley is home to some of the world's most famous, high quality chocolate, Valrhona and Richart. Looks like I'll be running a few extra laps around the Champs de Mars next week.

We will take the SNCF train to Lyon and rent a car to have more freedom to explore the region. Here's where we'll be staying...
La Maison d'Hôtes du Greillon

and ...

La Grand Hotel De La Paix

Three weeks in Paris and we haven't yet explored many of our favorite sites and neighborhoods beyond the ones in our immediate vicinity, the Bastille and the Marais. On Sunday, we took Emmett for his first visit to Montmartre.

Montmartre is a neighborhood that holds special significance for us as we rented our first apartment there for about 10 days in February 2003 with our good friends Helen and Jen. It felt like a village to us and within days, the local shopkeepers, butchers, bakers were familiar faces. We spent a good deal of time in the labyrinth of our neighborhood's streets, soaking up the atmosphere.

Coming to Paris with Emmett has made for a very different, but still very satisfying adventure. It keeps us from being out and about as much as we'd like, and we certainly haven't sampled as many bistros, brasseries, and restaurants as we would have liked at this point either. Our trips out are limited by Emmett's naps and eating schedules, so the longest we've been out is a stretch of 5 hours (he doesn't sleep well in the stroller and fusses to get out after a while). We've had to cut short a couple outings here and there because he was tired, and we spent a few days puttering around the apartment for the most part because he had the sniffles and it was chilly outside. And being the night people that we are, we miss seeing the sites of Paris at night and rarely have a chance to get out much after 8:00pm beyond the occasional walk for ice cream or our dinner out with our friends Emmet and Chris when we had our babysitter come to take care of little Emmett (more on Anabel, preserver of my sanity, later).

That said... traveling to this city with Emmett has allowed us to see a side of Paris we'd never been privy to in the past. Everyone has been nothing but adoring and fawning of Emmett (and of babies in general). So far, we haven't gotten any annoying stares or irritated remarks whenever we take Emmett to a restaurant. In fact, restauranteurs have all gone out of their way to be accommodating. Metro rides, as cumbersome as it can be at times getting a stroller up and down the stairs and through turnstiles, are a pleasure to take with Emmett. The passengers standing or sitting near us invariably smile, play peekaboo, pat his head, and/or speak French with him. And, not once have I *not* been offered a hand in carrying his stroller up or down the stairs (several flights in some cases), a seat in a crowded metro when I'm backpacking Emmett, or a door held open for us by a stranger during rush hour. I love seeing this warm, loving side of strangers and it makes me feel an instant bond with Parisians.

Other little treats that traveling with Emmett has provided us:
1. The discovery of the little pocket-sized parks throughout the city. Each park has its own unique character. Some seem designed for children to run around and frolick in, while others seem more sophisticated (for lack of a better word) with bronze statues, water fountains, and elegant benches surrounding a footpath. These appear more like sanctuaries for couples to escape to after work to catch up about the day as they stroll.
2. Familiarity with our neighborhood merchants and vendors. Or rather, they recognize me because they remember Emmett.
3. The reassuring connection with MESSAGE (the English-speaking mothers group) and other moms in passing. MESSAGE has been a ready resource for my every question and I owe a debt of gratitude to this organization.
4. Allowing us to slow down and live more like locals than tourists. We shop at the local farmers' markets, fromageries, boucheries, patisseries, and boulangeries at least every other day because we prepare most of our meals at home. We take a lot of walks around our surrounding neighborhoods, so we've gotten to know it quite well.


ANYWAY, back in Montmartre, Emmett rode his first carousel at the Place St. Pierre at the base of Sacré Couer. He didn't seem to quite know what to make of it, but fortunately, he doesn't seem to have a phobia of antique carousels.


Next, we took the funiculaire to Sacré Couer. The day was clear, so we got a few shots of the Paris landscape before heading home for dinner.