Sign
my guestbook. View
my guestbook. ←Previous Next→ Paris Journal 2007 Home
|
I was
wrong about Ratatouille – you CAN see it in English
A
corner of the Musée Cognacq-Jay. The
bust is of
A
painting by Fragonard at the Musée Cognacq-Jay. |
Friday, August 10 On my morning
errand to buy newspapers, I found that the shop where normally purchase them
is closed until August 26. I think this
happens every year, but usually for only a week, not two or three! So I bought wine at Nicolas instead, and on
the way home, as I turned the corner, I saw two young women and a suitcase
standing there. One of the young women
whined, in clear American English, “But WHERE?” So I stopped and said “Can I help
you?” You should have seen the looks
on their faces. In this neighborhood,
the last thing they expected was for an American like them to pop up at the
moment of desperation, offering help. One of them
showed me her métro map and pointed to
the Commerce stop on the number 8 line.
She said “We’re trying to find this metro.” Whereupon I said “Commerce? Yes, it is right down the street. You’ll see a little park stretching off to
the right, and the métro entrance is right at the beginning of that
park.” Their faces just glowed with
happiness as they thanked me and went on their way. I should have
asked them if they had any more questions while I was there. But I guess I wasn’t awake enough. After dropping
off the wine at the apartment, I went on down to that park to buy
newspapers. I didn’t see the young
women, so I guess they made it into the métro station. We ate dinner
last night not too far from there, just another quarter block down the
street, across from the St. Jean Baptiste de Grenelle church, at the
brasserie called A La Tour Eiffel (corner of rue du Commerce and rue des
Entrepreneurs). It is just a
regular old brasserie, but we have a special fondness for it for several
reasons. First, it is a bit larger on
the inside, accommodating a few more tables than many brasseries, and it has
a sizeable bar, so it feels much more like a pub. Most of the interior dining area is
non-smoking. It offers real food, including quite a selection of European
beef, on the regular menu. It even has
newspapers on sticks, just like in a British pub (except the newspapers are
all in French, of course). The daily
specials are often very good, and offer an alternative to all that European
beef. The setting is quite
picturesque, right across from the church.
It is quite clearly a neighborhood pub in that almost all of the
people in it are from the immediate neighborhood. This is the place where years ago, we
noticed that Roger, the proprietor of the restaurant Le Beau Violet just down
the rue des Entrepreneurs, had arranged for his mother to eat when he went on
vacation to Finally, one
of the reasons we are fond of it is that this is the place where we ate our
first dinner together in Even back then
when our French was limited, and in a place like this where you can’t count
on the servers knowing any English, we had no problems. Last night, our server was a young
trainee. She was not thrilled about
being given the assignment of serving us – I could tell by the expression on
her face as she handed us the menus. I
think she was just terrified because she knows no English. But when we ordered, oh so politely and in
such good French, she perked up and smiled sweetly. I had one of
the daily specials, Dorade Royale.
You’ve probably read what I’ve written about about this fish
before. But this is the first time
I’ve been served a whole dorade, so now I really know what it looks
like. It wasn’t big, and it came with
a tomato sauce that was so rich it was practically maroon in color. You don’t get this fish in Tom just had a
“hamburger frites,” which is a hamburger steak patty served on a slice of
bread with a few tomatoes slices on it, topped with a fried egg, with French
fries on the side. He glared at the
egg and said “I don’t want that!” So I
took it. It was fried beautifully, in
butter. Tom was very satisfied with
the rest of his meal. The day before
yesterday, Carolyn asked me to look up the train schedule for going to
Giverny. I did that, and also dug up a
few more details to make their trip go smoothly. The same day, or the day before, Guy and
Sheila went to Giverny. They did it
the easy way, as we had done a few years ago, taking the Grayline bus tour
from Paris (near the Louvre) right to Monet’s home, tickets to the home
included. I haven’t talked to them about
their experience yet, but when we took that Grayline tour, our guide was a
very well educated art historian, and she gave us a wonderful little lecture
on the bus before we arrived in Giverny. But the
Grayline tour, even with the AAA discount, costs almost twice as much (€57)
as taking the métro, then the train, then the bus, to Monet’s home (about
€32). The details
that I gave Carolyn to help their trip go more smoothly were: ·
When
you arrive in the St. Lazare train station, look for the big sign that says
“Grandes Lignes” and go there. ·
You
can buy your train tickets in advance at an SNCF boutique (located in many
places in ·
When
you arrive in ·
Not
all Paris-Rouen trains stop in |
