There is something soothing about doing the same thing again and again. Ed and I do a bike loop right now that we seldom vary. Same route, every time. People have summer homes -- they return to them every summer, maybe more often than that. I did that when I was a kid: I spent almost every vacation of my childhood at my grandparents' village home.
When my kids were grown and I had more time to travel, I fell into repeating destinations. And then I'd move on. I went to Sorede again and again and well, Ed stopped that one! I then went to Gargnano again and again -- then I stopped. Same with Islay -- again and again, then stop. Seems we have a pattern here! After a while, I want to switch gears.
Not so with Paris. It's the only place that has me hooked. And in Paris, once I found the Hotel Baume (it took many, many tries at many, many different places), I never looked back. I always come back to it. And I am always happy here.
When in Paris, sooner or later I repeat a variation of a walk: it includes the Luxembourg Gardens, of course. And I'll walk down to the area of the Bon Marche Department store, not so much for the shopping, but I like the Rue du Bac that branches off form there, perhaps especially because on Rue du Bac I will find Cafe Varenne. Where I always will stop for lunch. Each trip to Paris will include Cafe Varenne.
This is my day then for today -- a repeat performance of my favorites!
But with a late start. I wake at the usual 7:15-ish. I listen to the noise outside. They're setting up tents on the Odeon Square.
Turns out there'll be a flea market of sorts there today. I close the window. They're talking too loudly. I want a quiet wake-up.
Except that I fall back asleep! I suppose it's understandable. I did not get home until close to midnight, and did not finish writing here until 1:30. So yes, understandable. But late!
I am, I think, the last person down for breakfast.
(For my second cup I get a smiley face. That's the kind of place this is...)
And then comes my leisurely, beloved walk. A glance at the flea market first... Meh. Dont like old junk. I try to get rid of mine, not add more of someone else's. (On the other hand, don't you think this guy could be Woody Allen?)
And now the gardens.
Whereas the Tuileries were a mess, the Jardin Luxembourg right now is fabulous!
If you come on a weekend before noon (and it is still just a little before noon), it'll be on the empty side of things. By afternoon, it will be hard to find a free chair anywhere.
Here's a nod to the Olympics! (Everyone wants a photo of themselves in that sign, so you have to wait for an all clear moment. I'm in no hurry.)
I walk all the way to the back of the park, where they keep the bees...
(they're smoking out the hives today...)
(nice to see a chestnut doing well...)
... then to the front again, and out.
My walk now takes me past the St Sulpice church and the cafes there...
(oh that confidence!)
(another good mirror!)
... and then toward a store where I always find something for the kids...
(happy to see mixed up colors!)
... then toward the Bon Marche. It's already 1:45. If I get to Cafe Varenne before 2, chances are I wont have to wait for a table.
Success! I even have a corner to put down my bag and camera -- a rare privilege in this very packed place. And I have a great view of the comings and goings -- of locals, of visitors, of the waitstaff carrying trays to inside tables, to outside tables, to my table.
It's never anything but a fabulous meal -- a lunch like no other. Not to be missed -- I love it that much.
Today I order their heirloom tomato salad with Jambon du Pays (sort of like prosciutto), burrata (a fresh mozarella cheese associated with the Puglia region of Italy), parmesan. With pieces of baguette.
What really makes this heavenly, I think, is the vinegar they set on the table (and oil, but let's focus on the vinegar): it's a balsamic cider one from Normandy and it is just superb for this dish. And now I know I have to stop by the Grand Epicerie food halls to find that vinegar to bring back home. Crazy? Perhaps, but I have been known to pack stranger things on return trips home!
For dessert? A red berry Pavlova (bits of meringue, cream, berries...). Heaven!
So of course now, after stopping at the sweet shop across the street...
... I have to walk back to the Grand Epicerie, to find a vinegar that'll come close to the one they gave me at Varenne. And once I am there, I see that they have those fabulous chocolate covered mallow teddies in an Olympics box no less!
This is how my suitcase fills for the trip back. And that's okay! I have no intention of carrying it onboard with me. It expands. It's small but it'll hold it all.
I walk back slowly, pausing at places, looking, thinking about past trips, future travel...
... until somewhat loaded down, I come back to my lovely hotel.
I throw down my bags and sit down. Mindful now of how I move. (Yesterday, I was sitting leisurely in my room and then I noticed the time. I had to rush or I'd be late for dinner! I jumped up, never guessing that my right foot had fallen asleep. So I fell. On my fake left knee. It was interesting because I had not fallen on knelt on that knee since I had it replaced 1.5 years ago. And guess what happened?? Nothing! I will no longer worry about falling while skiing. Turns out that fake knee is a resilient little thing!)
I dont stay seated for long. Believe it or not, I have to make a third trip to the Monnaie de Paris! It's all about changing my mind about who should get what souvenir. No matter -- it's a very lovely walk.
And now it's evening -- my last one in Europe. Scotland already seems remote. Soon, Paris will be tucked in for future reflection. Where should I eat tonight? Well, like with destinations, I get caught up in repetition here as well. I've cycled through many places that I have loved and then abandoned. My recent go-to neighborhood eatery is Georgette. My experience has been that it serves carefully prepared food, very fresh and honest, and that the tables had plenty of locals. And it's a pleasant walk -- just 13 minutes in the winter and 20 in the summer. [In the summer I can choose to walk through the Jardin Luxembourg, which in these two weeks and only in these two weeks closes at 9:30 pm. Every few weeks, the closing is pushed forward, until it reaches the earliest of all -- in December, when the park closes at 4:30 pm.]
I wish I could say the dinner was fabulous. It wasn't. Each course was a little off, but the worst was the main one, where I ordered beef because it would be my last beef for a long while. And it was so overdone that it made me recoil.
When I cooked at L'Etoile, they wouldn't let me near the fish and meat stations. I first did appetizers and desserts, and eventually I chose to just do baking (better hours for m). They would never put an untrained person at a station that required greater consistency in a skill level, no matter what the cut of meat or the type of fish. Meat and fish suffer when they aren't prepared with an eye toward that sweet spot of doneness. Oh sure, some people may like blood spilling over their plate and others may want no sign of pinkness in meat and no sign of raw flesh in a fish. Personal preferences matter and if you ask how a diner wants her food prepared than you have to be ready to deliver. But to totally overcook a piece of meat when the request is for the standard (adhered to in France and in the US) medium-rare is a big "oh no!" Sort of like flubbing a debate. People stand up and notice. Could it be that the chef just doesn't have the skill to do it right?
One dish may not be reason enough to dump a place, but this one did it for me. It was a bad dish and no one cared. I predict they will close within a year! Or be full of tourists, recommended by nearby hotels that dont update their info. Me, I have to find another place to love and honor. There are plenty. I just have to survey the field again. Or, push myself to go out to dinner in the more punchy neighborhoods of the city, where customers and chefs still care deeply about what comes out of the kitchen.
(the dessert was simple, but good enough)
I walk back, through the park...
... without thought to anything except how beautiful this day was and how happy I will be to see everyone back home.
Avec tant amour...
