Paris Journal 2014 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com
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As soon as I entered Panoramic, I was face-to-face with a sales gal from the little shop called Sabon, just inside. She asked me if I’d like to try one of their hand scrubs. If it is free, yes, I replied. She guided me to an elegant font-like sink operated by a foot pedal, in the middle of the shop. She described the different scents available in these products, and I chose musk. After an initial cleansing with a nice liquid hand soap, she spooned out a mushy looking mixture of very coarse Dead Sea salts in a gel-like base, placing a glob of it right into my palms. I smooshed the weird grainy stuff all around in my hands, and she assured me that it was removing dead skin. I hadn’t noticed any dead skin on my hands, but whatever. It was kind of fun, like playing in the mud was fun when I was 10 years old. After the repulsive but fun Dead Sea salts were rinsed away, and I dried my hands with the paper towels she handed to me, she put some hand cream on my palm. It also had the musk scent, but by that time, I was smelling all the scents in the shop and I couldn’t discern any single one of them. Good hand cream was actually something I needed, so I told her I wanted to buy a tube of it. She cheerfully retrieved a little box for me, and then we waited for the cashier to become available. There was a computer snafu, so we stood for a while, waiting, and chatting. The young saleswoman was from Lille, she said, and she’d spent a year living in London. She was bright, and young, and enthusiastic – just like the new Beaugrenelle commercial center in which she works. When I had my purchase in hand, computer snafu all resolved, we said our goodbyes and I went on to explore my way up through the levels of Panoramic, then over the skywalk and down through the heart of Magnetic. A great Marks & Spencer department store occupies the several levels of one side of Panoramic. I know Tom will enjoy seeing that, so I didn’t go in it yesterday. I’m saving that for an outing with him. I noted that the store is so complete that it even has a gourmet food department and a restaurant. The central atrium of Panoramic is a great oval shape, topped by a modern stained glass ceiling that somehow reminded me of the industrial roots of that part of the 15th arrondissement. Up on the level where the skywalk connects Panoramic to Magnetic, I found a lounge: a resting area with comfortable chairs and a piano, where a pianist sat, playing beautiful classical music. Beethoven, I think. I paused and listened for a few minutes. Then I entered the skywalk, stopping midway to take a couple of photos of the view out onto the streets. Skywalk is a term I use, probably because it was used in Cincinnati, and perhaps in Columbus, where I lived for several decades. Perhaps those from elsewhere aren’t familiar with the term? I suppose in French it is called a “passerelle,” just like the uncovered pedestrian bridges over the Seine. This skywalk, however, is notably covered. In fact, it is a tube within a tube. Again, it reminds me of the industrial roots of the area. Tom and I decided we will enjoy the new Beaugrenelle center while it is new; in our experience, shopping malls/centers deteriorate, and then they aren’t fun places anymore. There are some exceptions to that experience, cases in which shopping centers are maintained and updated as needed. Bell Tower in south Fort Myers is an example of that happier state of affairs. The neighbors who objected to the “gigantisme” of the new Beaugrenelle were right to do so, I think. But I think the investors demanded this intensity to assure that they’d still make a profit in the face of the enormous costs involved with such an endeavor. I did shop a little; earlier in the day, I’d stopped in at Promod on the rue du Commerce to peruse the sales racks. The experience was not good; I left the shop feeling a little depressed, even. It was too crowded, and there were too many aggressive, impolite shoppers. There was no chance of any sales clerk offering to help. After I left that shop, I picked up my spirits by engaging in a brief, pleasant conversation with a young man who was soliciting for contributions for the Red Cross. Then I left the rue du Commerce and headed for the Beaugrenelle center. I shopped in Promod there, and the experience was much more pleasant. I bought a cardigan and a pair of pants, and went off to have a bon weekend just as the cashier wished for me. I had a hilariously confused few minutes trying to find my way out of the shopping mall. By the time I did, I was running late. I was due to be on the phone, in a conference call, at 4PM, back at the apartment. For the people who I was talking with on the phone, it was 10AM, and they were sipping coffee, in places like Woodstock, NY, someplace in Maryland, and on Sanibel Island in Florida. Ah, sweet technology. For me, it was late afternoon snack time. I was nibbling on a very fine little piece of brebis from the fromagerie, to quell the hunger pangs brought on by two hours of walking, exploring, photographing, and shopping. I told the coffee-sippers about the cheese and they were envious. After the call, Tom asked me to make a dinner reservation. And so I did, via lafourchette.com, at Le Granite. For background (and some interior photos) on our lovely experiences with Le Granite, check out what I wrote a couple years ago in this journal, on August 11, 2012. The blackboard is gone now (as it was in 2013), and the menu focuses on a more reasonable number of classic French dishes. I’ve written so many times about this elegant restaurant being a good place to experience classical French cuisine, that for all I know, I was responsible for the family who showed up several minutes after we did. They were clearly on their first trip to France. They were Asian-Americans, and the mom spoke with a classic middle-American accent, as did her son, who was a precocious 10 or 11, I’d say. The dad had more of a foreign accent infused with his English. They spoke no French at all, and did not know their way around a French menu. Dalila, the patronne, tried to explain everything, but communication just wasn’t really happening. So I offered to help. The mom and Dalila seemed to be happily relieved. They came over to our table, menu in hand, and I enthusiastically explained and described everything on it. That seemed to work out well. We all went on with our dinners. Tom and I shared the foie gras starter course; it was plenty for two people. The slice of foie gras entier came with a little scoop of onion confiture – my favorite accompaniment with this dish. Tom had lamb chops which he said were superb and I had the sole meuničre of my life.
That fish was enormous, for sole! Dalila asked if I wanted her to debone it, but I said no, I’m from Florida and I know my fish; I wanted to do that myself. She was content to let me do it, because it was easier for her that way. That was the best, and biggest, sole meuničre I’ve ever eaten. It was a dinner to remember for a long time. Dalila was so nice; she gave us kisses coming and going. She has Le Granite looking more elegant than ever. We had a pleasant and very brief conversation with the American family as we left. Back at the apartment, we enjoyed the dying light and I took a couple photos of the fromagerie, from our balcony. For years, it was run by an older couple, and now, they are gone. The name of the place has changed to Thomas – an easy name for us to remember! A bite of velvety, flavorful brebis, a nibble of dark Swiss chocolate, and TSF Jazz playing softly on the stereo – now that’s a wrap. |
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Glass
ceiling atop the atrium of Panoramic, in the Beaugrenelle center.
Pianist
near the skywalk, in Panoramic.
The
skywalk connecting Panoramic and Magnetic, on the third level up from the
street.
View
from the skywalk, looking over toward the bridge over the Seine. Can you spot the Statue of Liberty?
Looking
in the other direction from the skywalk.
See the lesser, uncovered walkway in the middle.
Atrium
ceiling in Magnetic.
A
giant mobile in the center of Magnetic’s atrium was created by the artist
Xavier Veilhan.
Looking
down toward the fromagerie from our
balcony. The little flags strung
across the street are for the World Cup soccer competitions. |
