Paris Journal 2013 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com
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My friend
Carolyn lives an interesting life – half of the time on Sanibel Island, and
half of the time on an island called Ireland.
But for much of this week, she’s in Paris with her friend Celeste
(also a Sanibelian). After an
exchange of text messages, Carolyn and I decided we’d meet in front of the
Saint Sulpice church at 4PM yesterday.
I showed them
the shortest street in Paris (I think), rue Henry de Jouvenel – all 20 meters
of it -- and then the Rimbaud poem about
the Drunken Ship on the wall along the rue Férou. I told them the
history of the three musketeers in this neighborhood as we turned onto the
rue du Canivet. Then I showed them the
building where we are staying, apologizing for the torn-up state of the old
courtyard. In the
apartment, after Tom and I gave them the complete tour, we settled down to
drink Pouilly Fumé and to chat for a while.
Carolyn and Celeste had an excellent plan to go up to Sacre Cœur to
see the view as the skies were darkening and lights were coming alive. On a map, I showed them our favorite way to
approach the scene, from the Lamarck-Caulaincourt metro station. After that fun
visit, Tom finished and sent his new chapter for Back to the Lake to the publisher in New York. I went down to the little restaurant on the
corner of the rues Servandoni and du Canivet and made a reservation for
7:30PM. We’d not dined
at this cute place, Au Bon Saint Pourçain, yet this summer. While it is charming as can be, its
lighting is a little harsh and the menu doesn’t change much. The cuisine is quite traditional. But we enjoyed
it very much. Fabienne (the boss
François Bonduel’s daughter) was running the place last night; she brought us
two little glasses of the white Saint Pourçain wine as an aperatif, on the
house. We shared a
refreshing, light terrine lapereau,
which had lots of veggies in it. Then I ordered
the old standby boeuf aux olives (like
a beef bourgignon) which came with healthy little piles of green beans,
turnips and carrots. The beef was fork
tender and bathed in a dark, savory reduction sauce. I had a glass of the restaurant’s house
wine, the red Saint Pourcain, which was the perfect accompaniament for this
dish. Tom ordered the
special of the day, a hachis parmentier,
a sort of French version of shepherd’s pie.
Like the green beans, it was not an attractive food, but it tasted
really fine. Very nice. Tom then had a
piece of homemade chocolate cake with a little light crème anglaise. A long time
ago, François Bonduel was a waiter at the Deux Magots, that place on the
boulevard Saint Germain that’s famous for the famous people who used to hang
out there – people like Hemingway, Picasso, Camus, Sartre & de Beauvoir,
Joyce, etc. Rimbaud, the
poet who wrote the poem now on the wall on the rue Férou, also frequented the
Deux Magots. I wonder if
François ever waited on Simone de Beauvoir? |
Thursday, September 26, 2013
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