Paris Journal 2013 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com
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We were warm and hungry as we finished walking our circuit through the Champ de Mars on Sunday evening. I suggested an early, light dinner at La Terrasse du Septieme, and Tom agreed. La Terrasse is a fine brasserie on a complicated, busy, and large intersection by the old military school (l’École Militaire). I like it partly because it is elegant, and partly because it is clean. We’ve had good food there; not haute cuisine, but correctly prepared brasserie fare. I especially admire the Niçoise salad because it is artfully arranged, includes thin, cool green beans, and always has something that surprises me. This time it was a blanched tomato, skin removed, and sliced in half. Tom ordered the lamb chops, which were good, but not quite as good as he remembered them. He also ordered a side of fries, and they were not good. Inexcusable. A fine brasserie that serves old French fries? Terrible. But I enjoyed my salad, and the service was fine. Tom was facing the open, floor-to-ceiling window, so he was ideally situated for watching people. A transvestite waiting for the light to change at the crosswalk provided some initial entertainment, and later a homeless guy swigging pink champagne from a bottle and making obscene gestures at passing women was good for some shock value. The head waiter went out and calmly discussed the situation with the homeless guy, and then the guy moved on down the street, pretending that he merely asked for directions, received them, and was therefore on his way. Tom decided that the transvestite was really a woman. I said no way, because of the angle of the thigh as it met the narrow pelvis: definitely male. I haven’t seen a skirt that short in years. The biggest shock,however, came after dinner as we were walking home down the avenue de la Motte-Picquet. We hadn’t noticed it on our way up to the Champ de Mars because we’d walked up the other side of the street. But as we came back down the avenue, on the southeast side, just past the rue de la Cavalerie, we stopped dead in our tracks. It is GONE, we exclaimed. Our old friend, La Gitane, the classic restaurant that never disappointed is GONE! In its place is some resto that serves cheeseburgers. At least the new owners did not keep the venerable old name of La Gitane. The current establishment doesn’t deserve it. We must admit that Olivier and Corinne Mayeras, the former owners of La Gitane, were at retirement age. But they still seemed so vigorous to us. And the wait staff – we shall miss them all. Corinne and Olivier had had a previous career, in journalism, at Condé Nast. Then they “fell in the soup pot” as one reviewer put it (ancien barons de la presse tombés dans la marmite). They fell in love with La Gitane, a venerable gathering place for movers and shakers, politicians, and business people. A long time ago, La Gitane was the bar/brasserie/tabac for La Gauloise, down the street. Years ago, the two establishments broke apart and were thereafter owned by separate entities. Corinne and Olivier bought the smaller of the two – La Gitane – in 2007. Under their ownership, it was a wonderful, reliably good classic French restaurant. What happened to Olivier and Corinne Mayeras? Where did chef Yves Pellion go? Does anybody know? Somebody tell me, please! Fortunately, La Gauloise is still there, but it has changed. Yesterday’s entertainment was a trip to Zola Colour, a big hardware store several blocks away. We were asked to install a window shade purchased by one of the owners of the apartment. She had no idea how complicated this would be. We spent 17 euros on a long piece of wood, some nails, and three very expensive screws. It was great fun, shopping at Zola Colour. A stop at the ATM was necessary because Tom has a doctor’s appointment today, and she only accepts cash from those who do not have French Social Security (which includes basic health care insurance for all French citizens). Tom is happy to finally have a doctor here in Paris. There is no pressing need for him to see a doctor right now; he just wants to establish a relationship so that care can be available when needed. The doctor is originally from Canada, and her receptionist answers the phone in English, not French, so I guess Dr. Salzman’s practice is mostly for English speakers. She was recommended by the same person for whom we are hanging this complicated window shade right now. The tiny cordless “drill” is really just a toy maybe fit for use as a screwdriver, and there was no saw for cutting the strip of wood. So Tom improvised. Jazz musicians improvise well. Drummers, especially, need to work with all kinds of hardware as they improvise. It took extra time, but the improvisations did the trick. Zola Colour was not our first errand of the day. First was a trip to Dia, the discount grocery just down the block. After gathering provisions, we went back to the apartment to make lunch: lamb’s lettuce, cantal, and chicken salad for me, and a ham with cheese sandwich for Tom. I can’t believe how long the window shade installation took. It was almost time for dinner by the time the work was done, Tom called the restaurant behind us, Le Café du Commerce, to ask for a reservation for 8PM. I giggled when the maître d’ asked Tom for his phone number because (1) Tom does not know the number, and (2) to suddenly have to say the number in French isn’t easy, when you aren’t expecting it. So I recited the number, piece by piece, and Tom repeated it into the phone. After that call, he decided he should try to get to know the number. I wore a dress to dinner. A low-cut, summery simple black sundress, and some dressy shoes, and voila! I was ready. Tom wore his handsome dark blazer with his standard black T-shirt and slim-cut khaki pants. Sharp. We walked into the restaurant and received a royal welcome. The dress had something to do with it, I think. Not very many people wear dresses anymore, even in Paris – just the transvestites and some few of us women. I wonder why? Dresses are very practical on warm summer days. The service was impeccable at Le Café du Commerce. I ordered the special of the day, a faux filet steak that came with a mille feuille of potatoes and vegetables. Tom ordered a big plate of goat cheese ravioli in a rich, dark sauce. Absolutely delicious! We were planning to share a dessert, but the restaurant was getting to be too warm inside. So after a fine main course, we asked for the check, paid, and went back out into the cooling evening air. It was time to water all the many thirsty plants on our balcony back at the apartment. The Commerce does have air conditioning, and it is advertised as such, but generally restaurants in Paris won’t turn on the a.c. until daytime temperatures go well above 90 degrees F. Yesterday, the temps reached only the low to mid 80s. Today will be about the same, but I can see as I look out at the skyline and horizon that there is a haze in the urban air. Let’s take a look at Airparif.fr. Well, it seems to say the air quality is just average – no big problems bad ozone today. But there is measurable bad ozone today. So we will keep an eye on that. Particulate matter and nitrogen dioxide levels are relatively low. We learned in 2003 (the year of the Deadly Heat Wave) that these things, especially ozone, do affect our health. Tom is being proactive about that. Before the medical adventures, I’m going to try a domestic adventure today. I had to use the vacuum cleaner right away on our first day here. The installation of the new windows here must have kicked up dust. The poor old Hoover, however, has been abused this past year. Somebody who was not accustomed to it forced the extender tubes apart without unlocking the locking ring. They broke off some important plastic bits. Now the poor thing falls apart during use. I’m going to try to find new parts! What fun. Hoover parts in French. A challenge! |
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
The
verriere at the top of the Grand Gallery of
Evolution.
I
love those leather sling chairs!
Tom
with one of the big volumes of Buffon’s Natural
History.
Ancestor
of our backyard neighbors.
Louis
Agassiz’s books. (Swiss paleontologist
who lived from 1807 to 1873.)
Claymation
scientist explains her work at the Museum of Natural History. |
