Barbara Joy Cooley's Paris Journal

Paris Journal 2014 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com

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Our first metro ride of the summer was warm, crowded, and long. Line 8 is unusually long – beginning down at the bottom of the 15^th and thrusting up and across the Seine at an important place, between Les Invalides and Place de la Concorde. Then it curves to the east as it goes north, skirting along the bottom border of the 10^th arrondissement before curving again, this time to the south and east, almost all the way to the Bois de Vincennes. That would be far enough, you’d think, but it goes on. Well outside the Peripherique, Line 8 ends at last, in Creteil, at that suburb’s town hall.

So even though our ride was long, it wasn’t even half the full length of Line 8. We left the subway station at Republique, adeptly exiting at Sortie 5 so that we wouldn’t be far from our first goal for the day: La Tresorerie, at 11 rue du Chateau d’Eau, in the 10^th arrondissement.

Not only was it our first metro ride of the summer, it was also our first venture over into the right bank this year.

Right bank traffic noise greeted us as we left the long, rectangular Place de la Republique and started walking along the boulevard de Magenta. Very quickly, we left the boulevard and began a short walk down the rue du Chateau d’Eau, which means literally “castle of water,” but I think was actually named for a water tower.

We paused at number 7 to admire some terrific art deco metal work on the front doors of a Social Security center for retraining workers.

La Tresorerie wasn’t far from there. Someone told our friend Lisa that this housewares store was beautiful. I’d say it was elegant, and interesting. We started by looking at the kitchen section, quickly selecting a little 3-minute hourglass timer that we need. The one that Tom uses back in Florida when he’s grilling steaks recently stopped working.

The one we found at La Tresorerie is almost identical to our old one, but a little nicer. It cost only a few euros. We also selected some lovely cocktail/hors d’oeuvres toothpicks for 1.10; they’re almost too nice to use.

Most things were overpriced. The showroom, with a soaring ceiling topped by a large skylight or verriere, was elegantly arranged and super-well lit. The showroom was spacious, not crowded or cluttered. We climbed the stairs to a mezzanine where a few modern coffee tables were displayed along with rag rugs of the sort that my grandmother used to make. I guess they’re in style again.

You can see almost everything we saw in the shop if you peruse the www.latresorerie.fr web site. Products sold there are generally recyclable, fair trade items that are especially well-designed. The work of the artists/designers is respected.

Much more so than most Parisian shops’ web sites, this one honors its location by providing some interesting information about it. Here’s a rough translation:

The store is situated at 11 rue du Chateau d’eau, in the 10^th arrondissement of Paris, very close to the Place de la Republique. In a line from the building to the north of the Place is the part of the Republican Guard dedicated to administration and public service, the Labor Council at number 3, and Social Security at number 7, and, several years ago, the Perception des Impôts [depository for tax assessment revenues], which was the principal treasury of the 10^th arrondissement at number 11! [Hence the name of the shop.] The spirit of the place is carefully maintained: the bars on the façade, the letters “RF” on the front [standing for “Republique Française”], and double, wooden entry doors. And the name remains changed in this sense: this building shelters well the treasures for those who know the value of everyday objects.

Some of the things sold at La Tresorerie are clearly marked as “Made in France.” But the store also sells items made in Spain, Denmark, Portugal, Britain, Sweden, Norway, Germany, Italy, and Austria, according to a panel display. But we also saw a number of textile items that come from India.

When we left La Tresorerie and turned onto the rue Lancry, I spotted several shops that sold imports from India – mostly textile items, especially colorful women’s clothing.

Oddly included in the mix on the rue Lancry was a neglected building that was the home of the Federation Nationale des Blesses Multiples et Impotents de Guerre (National Federation of Multiply Wounded and Disabled War Veterans). The entire decrepit building is for sale – residences and offices included. Tom ventured into its beat-up porte cochere to take a look.

A Chinese import shop nearby displayed cute kitschy things, but I found the realistic looking kittens sleeping on pillows to be ghoulish – they looked like dead kittens to me! I preferred the boxes covered with photos of cute kittens.

After we finished with the rue Lancry, we walked through a couple of old, neglected, covered shopping galleries called the Passage Meslay and the Passage du Pont aux Biches. The latter enclosed a set of stairs, taking us definitely into the Marais (a former swamp).

We continued on the rue Volta, named for the Italian scientist who invented the electric battery: a very important man! On this street we were pleasantly surprised to see a Wallace Fountain standing close to a café named for Coltrane. Despite the name, this place is not a jazz bar. It features a drink called the D…. M….. F….. (too obscene to spell out in this journal!).

When we reached the rue de Turbigo, we took a brief detour off to the right to look at the exterior of the Conservatory and Museum of Arts and Crafts (really an industrial design school and museum). It is on the grounds of a former monastery, including the church of Saint Martin of the Fields (Saint Martin des Champs). We’ve been there before, but so long ago! Perhaps 15 years ago? We did not remember that there is a small Statue of Liberty behind the former church.

It was a gift from Mr. and Mrs. Guillaume Duhamel. This bronze statue was made in 1878 from the plaster “execution model” which is 1/16 the size of the real thing.

Across from this great school and museum of industrial design was a rather embarrassing British degree-mill called Horizons University. We didn’t see students because they take their courses online, and, for the most part, without textbooks (either paper or electronic)! Sacrilege!!

Many blocks later, we reached our second goal for the day: Le Pere Fouettard, a brasserie/bistro of some size, located close to Les Halles, on a pedestrian street called Pere Lescot. The reason we wanted to go there: this is now the employer of Chef Laurent Houry. A decade or so ago, Laurent and his wife Isabelle owned a restaurant in the 15^th called Le Tire Bouchon. We loved that place, and the Houry couple, too.

We found Isabelle again a few years ago when she filled in for the patronne at Le Blavet for vacation-time one summer. We miss Le Tire Bouchon and Laurent’s cooking, so I periodically search for Isabelle and Laurent on the internet.

The day before yesterday, I found them – or rather, him. I learned that he’s the chef de cuisine at this Pere Fouettard (Bogeyman) place. When we arrived, it was too late for lunch and too early for dinner, so we participated in Happy Hour. We shared a croque poulette (toasted, open-faced chicken and cheese sandwich on Poilane bread). The gruyere cheese was especially fine. Tom ordered fries, and they could not possibly have been better.

We did not see Laurent; it was the wrong time of day. But it was so reassuring to know that he’s there. And now he does not have to worry about running the business. There is a manager who does that, and there is a nice woman who runs the “front of the house,” that is to say, the dining room and extensive terrasse. We did meet her, and we briefly saw the manager before we left.

“What a great location,” we thought. Laurent and the rest of the team will never lack customers there in this bustling hot spot.

The snack/late lunch restored us to the point where we could march on, and so we did. We passed by the busy Les Halles/Chatelet area, pausing to look at the ongoing reconstruction job at Les Halles.

At the Seine, we passed by some of the bouquiniste (bookseller) stalls and took the Pont au Change over to the Île de la Cité. As we began to cross on that bridge, I stopped to take a few photos of the Paris Plage (Paris Beach) on the riverbank below us. What a huge success that project has been!

The Hotel Dieu and the Conciergerie were looking fine beneath the French blue sky on that summery day. Looking back at the Chatelet statue and the Tour Saint Jacques, the sky was a bit cloudy. Still, the sun made the grand old gothic architecture of the Tour dazzle.

We walked with the throngs of people on the sidewalk of the boulevard du Palais, between the Conciergerie and Notre Dame, until we reached the Pont Saint Michel. This was another goal for the day: we wanted to be in the place where Francis LeCoadic painted a painting that I recently cleaned. I’ll share that story and those photos on another day.

Yes, we walked all the way home, from the Place de la Republique to the rue du Theatre in the 15^th. We’re not dead yet!

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