{paris in july} the sweet life in paris (and some cheese)

hosted by Karen (Bookbath)

& Tamara (Thyme for Tea).

Hmmmm... It's already way into July and I haven't posted anything yet for Paris in July. I suspect that this is because I know that as soon as I open my photo folder and see the pics I took last July when I was in Paris, then I'll get itchy feet for travel, and who knows what could happen... 

But, maybe if I eat some French cheese... that'd help? Have a cheese:

We are blessed with a wonderful market here in Adelaide, and some truly divine cheese shops. I can't resist a cheese that comes in its own little ramekin like this Saint Marcellin. It's a cow's milk cheese, very soft and gooey -- as David Lebovitz notes, St Marcellin has a tendency to try to escape. It can be eaten as is, but I think that one night, very very soon, this little pot is going into the oven and there will be some crusty bread and at least a couple of very nostalgic thoughts about France over a glass or two of vin rouge...

BTW, if you like cheese, you might like this very informative 'wheel' (appropriate!) for identifying cheese. It's not comprehensive, but it really helped me sort the sheep from the goats (and cows):

(you can magnify it at the pop chart lab site) 

Drooling is not really helping me think about my Paris in July reading, but I am reminded that I have not yet written about David Lebovitz's book, The Sweet Life in Paris (2009). I really enjoy his blog - he has a lovely sly wit, he adores food, and he lives in Paris. What more could one ask?

Lebovitz, a dessert specialist who worked at Chez Panisse (link plays annoying music!), moved to France to make a fresh start after his partner died, and his blog wonderfully details the day-to-day discoveries (and disasters) that he made settling down to a new life in Paris. The book is a deeper exploration of these days, and is a great light read for Francophiles. It is interspersed with some recipes and a lot of good practical advice on what Lebovitz calls "the World's Most Glorious - and Perplexing - City."

This is a city where one dresses up to take out the garbage, always says 'Good Morning' on entering shops, and never cuts up salad leaves. Everyone wears a scarf "arranged with a complex series of knots so elaborate, I think some of them use a sailing primer for guidance." Lebovitz is great on the little, quirky details - the dynamics of the non-queue (carry a basket of vicious proportions!), the etiquette of hot chocolate, a (vain) attempt to overcome his fear of squid by working for a fishmonger, life in a socialized health system (less startling for Australians, who also have near-free access to healthcare), the fascination of foreign supermarkets and kitchenware shops, and the terrors of all those new French words to learn: "And a jug of wine can be a carafe, pichet, pot, décanter, cruche, or fillette, which is also a young girl. So be careful where you are when you order one."

I was a little surprised by the recipes - this seemed like the place for some classics, but Lebovitz has included an eclectic range of recipes drawn from far further afield than France alone: peanut slaw and chicken mole sit happily among mousse and clafoutis and dulce de leche brownies (the clafoutis - plum and raspberry - is definitely on my list of things to make). I rather liked the mix, though, as I say, it was surprising. One minor detail - macaron is rendered (in a translation context) as macaroon. Eeek! Oh là là!

In sum: a funny, anecdotal book - a delightful, quick read that will remind you of all the things that make visiting Paris so very, very sweet.

P.S. -- on a somewhat macabre and definitely non-food note -- last year I visited THE BEST PLACE IN PARIS I HAVE EVER BEEN, namely the Pet Cemetery (Cimetière des Chiens et Autres Animaux Domestiques) at Asnières-sur-Seine. If you love animals, and you love a wander in a delightful green shady place, and you don't mind these two things being in a cemetery, then I urge you to visit when next in Paris: my post from last year is here.

{misc.} easter greetings

I hope everyone is having a peaceful and happy Easter, 

and has found plenty of time for some reading.

Source: eyedealpostcards.com via skiourophile on Pinterest

{misc.} give a book?

Source: theanimalarium.blogspot.com.au via skiourophile

The artist is Gerard Rowe, sometime in the 1950s.

{review} joanna & ulysses

May Sarton Joanna and Ulysses (1963)

Not look back. For a month she was to give herself to joy, to paint, to think, to feel youth, buried so long, rising up in her like sap into the branches of a battered tree.

I think I cried almost all the way through this novella. It is beautiful - writing, themes, donkeys, everything. Joanna is a thirty year old Athenian. She has been looking after her father since she was fifteen - since that day her mother died during the German occupation of Greece, in circumstances which devastated the family. 

Joanna dreams of becoming an artist and snatches at a chance for a month to herself on the beautiful island of Santorini. She will paint and eat and sleep and discover a 'renascent self': "somewhere deep down inside her there was a being who was not the dutiful daughter she had forced herself to become."

Santorini offers an escape and a chance to be selfish about her own needs. But Joanna does not factor in discovering Ulysses, an overworked and neglected donkey, who will transform her life. This all sounds a bit Eat, Bray, Love, doesn't it? It is hard to say why it isn't, but it really is one of the most sad, lovely books I have read this year and I cannot recommend it highly enough. 

The young man slouched toward her, and spoke in an angry, whining singsong, "He might last to the top," he said, "We'll work him till he drops, and that's that. Do you think we are rich?" He spat again, "We can't afford to keep a sick animal. If he dies, all right, kaput!"

Joanna flinched before the German word. The memories of cruelty and violence swept over her, cruelty about which one could do nothing; she experienced again the corroding poison of helplessness before violence. She felt suddenly weak, as weak as the donkey. The donkey had no strength, it seemed, even to wag its tail at the flies. It waited, just barely able to stand, its head drooping a little. The patience and suffering of the donkey were awful.    

It is also SO nice to read a book where a spinster makes it to the end and things turn out happily!

If you liked this... This is the first May Sarton book that I have read, but it won't be the last by any means.

{paris in july} farewell paris...

This is a (final) post for Paris in July,

hosted by bookbath and thyme for tea.

Normal book posts will resume soon, but one last look at Paris in July. I've so enjoyed reading the posts and devouring everyone's pictures. This Paris in July was particularly relevant for me, since I was in Paris for a good chunk of the month, but am now, {sad face}, back home and back at work. To finish off an enjoyable month, here are some completely gratuitous and hardly literature-related highlights of my time.

A window at Basilica St Denis

The lovely curvy wall of secondhand books at Merci (the café is excellent)

Jacques Genin - the best lemon tart
I've ever ever ever ever eaten
(the eclair wasn't bad either. A very nice tea-room.)

Tart p*rn

My favourite department store - BHV - is being renovated. 

Even the renovation signs are amusing. 

This is the place to go for your holiday quincaillerie.

I cannot resist prowling the supermarket aisles. 

In the Grand Epicerie, I note that Joël Robuchon
has sold out to the ready meal market (Parmentier de Canard!)

I wish we had crevettes in Australia -
I think they're some sort of scampi?
The best dish I had with them was really simple -
green beans with crevettes at Le Petit Pontoise on the Left Bank.

I could spend all day browsing the butter aisles...

Less so the body part aisle...

Gold ballerinas! 

My shoes were more comfortable but decidedly less stylish.

Goat cheese crisps. (Twisties, if you're Australian)

A book on good manners to read the nieces and nephew.  

A fairytale building near the Marais: 

the Hôtel de Sens (now the Bibliothèque Forney) 

The view from...

...my cup of tea at the Petit Palais. 
Another nice place to sit down. 

Sitting down in Paris seems to have become a priority for me.

This lady could have done with a cup of tea, I suspect (Petit Palais).
Perhaps some ballerinas too.

Across the road: Greeks on the Grand Palais' mosaic frieze.

A myrtille (?bilberry) & violet 
condiment at the mustard shop. Hmmm.

Everyone associates Rue Cambon with Chanel.
I prefer...

Pierre Hermé

Pierre Hermé cakes (from the Rue Bonaparte store).
Clockwise from left: Jasmine; Peaches; Coffee; Rose/Lychee

The Village St Paul brocante was filled with things
too large to bring home. Pity. 

A 2CV. I drove one when I lived in the UK in the 90s. 
You can drive anything after you've driven one of these.

A day at the Jardin des Plantes

It's a really gorgeous oasis over by the Gare Austerlitz 
and includes a zoo, 
where I saw another Australian a long way from home:

Kookaburra in the Paris "Ménagerie".

Danger de morsure! 
I need this on a t-shirt for when I go to cake shops.

And my penultimate day in Paris: I went to the Tuileries...

...and sat under a shady brolly at Le Saut du Loup,
the restaurant of Les Arts Décoratifs

And just after lunch, the final stage of 
the Tour de France came through behind me.

I needed another cup of tea after that 
(Mariage Frères in the Marais)

A ginger cat on my way to do some shopping on the final day. 
(I hate this use of animals by beggars 
tho' at least this bloke is doing something 
for his money even if listening to organ grinding 
is right up there with nails on blackboards)

And one final pastry from Ladurée before I was 
off to the airport (this is a Rose Saint-Honoré). 

I already miss Paris.

{paris in july} cimetière des chiens et autres animaux domestiques

This is a post for Paris in July 

hosted by bookbath and thyme for tea

The absolutely favourite thing I have done so far during this trip to Paris is to visit the Cimetière des Chiens et Autres Animaux Domestiques, which is a pet cemetery. Not just a pet cemetery, the oldest one in Paris (there's a little more information here). It was an amazing place: burials of pets have been held there - at Asnières-sur-Seine - since the end of the nineteenth century. 

I mostly photographed the cat graves, but dogs were in the majority. There was also a monkey and a budgie (?). Quite remarkable, and I thoroughly recommend it if you have somewhat macabre Parisian tastes! 

Here are some photos: