Paris in the rain

Ah, this relentless rain! -- I hear this on the street. Oh, France has had a wet wet spring!

For me, there is a certain beauty to it: the sidewalks glisten (as Snowdrop has learned, Paris is a city of dogs)...






(Wet dogs right now...)







... wet sidewalks, reflecting lights in lovely ways.







I'm seeing this on my way to pick up breads and fruits. From Ste Duchesne Boulangerie...







... and from this fruit vendor. It surely feels like springtime in Paris!






But the fact is, pushing a stroller in the rain, where Snowdrop's legs need to be wrapped in a raincoat, where I navigate the narrow, uneven sidewalks while holding an umbrella just so -- that's tough going. We were lucky yesterday -- we had a long pause in the rain in the afternoon and only struggled on the way back, but today's morning forecast is just plain wet.

The younger couple sets out anyway. They only have a few days of a vacation in Paris. They are eager to go!

Me, I decide to stay home with Snowdrop. She needs a rest. She'd had two evenings of fighting a bug (all better now!). We'll wait until after the rains diminish.

So, breakfast!











And play. (On her aunt and uncle's bed this time.)






(And on the grown up chairs in the living room.)






But we all have a date: a Mother's Day lunch. Where to, mom?  Oh, there's no question that I would most like to go with my kids and grandkid to La Varenne -- my very favorite of Parisian cafe-restaurants. And here's a secret that parents traveling with kids to Paris don't know (I've been reading posts by such parents on this topic): Cafe La Varenne has a high chair. An almost unheard of thing! It's hidden, but they'll bring it up if you request it in advance.

We have the most joyous and extraordinary lunch. As always, the waiters are lovely but I hadn't known how charming they would also be toward a young child.

(Snowdrop is eating a basket-ful of bread while we wait for the food. Does it spoil her appetite? Wait and see.)






A hand game before the food comes...


 



My younger daughter, her husband, a plate of radishes, salt, bread and butter...






My main course -- today's special: sea bass.






And Snowdrop? She tastes my fish appreciatively. And she loves her plateful of ravioli with mushrooms and possibly spinach.






And she loves the haricots verts which she snitches from her mother's plate.






Here, everyone's cooperating for the group photo, except for Snowdrop, who thinks this is a fine opportunity to go after more food.






And she loves, loves, loves her dad's snails in garlic butter. Eats half his portion.






And she loves Cafe la Varenne's french fries.






Here, she is thinking -- I'm sure I can get him to share his tart, too. He does.






Finally, several hours later, we leave. Can I walk some? Yep. Just hold hands.






The rains have finally receded, but it seems cool and wet out there. Not really park weather. We go instead to the department store, Le Bon Marche, which has a large toy department. Snowdrop plays with the train...






... and she has a fair amount of freedom to explore.






Yes, it is very hard to finally pull her away!



In the evening, we are eating well again -- this is the night when we taste the bottom of the top: David Toutain is a Michelin starred restaurant, though it is has earned only one of the coveted symbols of excellence. When I worked in the kitchens of Madison's fine dining place, I followed the woes and successes of Michelin starred places, but in the last decade, I've been more distant from it all. Not only is this world of great food significantly out of my price range, but as I travel alone, I don't really look for that specific kind of excellence. This, I feel, needs to be shared.

But I decided to dig into my savings for this night. I choose a place that has a low key (rather than refined) atmosphere and perhaps because I booked so far in advance, they give us the semi-private dining room for the night. We signed onto the smaller menu (for its lesser price and because honestly, 7 courses seemed plenty), but there are always more courses than they tell you.

Perhaps the most exciting thing about food of this nature is that the link between presentation and taste is (usually) immaculate. So that your senses are engaged on many levels.There's no point in posting  pictures (a photo here is too limited), but I like giving at least a sense of place. I've been sitting between two daughters in all our meals, facing the two husbands. I'll include this:







And two photos of two smaller plates. Just two.








nasturtium and berries


All beautiful, all grand.

And now is the time for me to shut the computer lid tight. Tomorrow is a full day!

a Sunday in photos

It's not possible to do it all, right? The day is long, but not long enough. And today is no exception. I must let go of something -- writing is the obvious choice. Can you make out our day with no explanatory subtitles? Or, let me set this limit -- no more than five words per picture? Let's try:

We're going out?






Bicyclists. More than ever before.






Brunch. Les Editeurs. Many friends.






Croque monsieur for Snowdrop.






Tired...






...Until you say: park's next!






High five: so many hands!






Jardin Luxembourg -- the pond. Happy!






Ducks!






Loving aunt and uncle.






My three favorite girls.






We buy a pinwheel!






Rain. Still, baguette in order.






Walk back along the Seine.






And here I'll break from my five word limit. Later, much later, we review this walk. Turns out we all hatched private plans as to how to rescue Snowdrop in case the stroller rolled into the river Seine, given the slippery surface of the cobblestones. A touching display of true love.


Nearly home.
Rain in abundance.






Quiet time at home.






Violet's with Snowdrop. Semilla dinner.


My girls picked this photo as the one that best illustrates my exuberance tonight. (We're doing a tasting menu, the food is excellent, the company -- outstanding!) I'll leave it as an ending to today's post.

the kids are here

Today is the day my younger girl and her husband fly into Paris. Our focus is on their early arrival. The excitement is palpable!

I dash out to get a breakfast baked goods -- oh, the usual, of course: at Les Gourmandises d'Eiffel. (Only I don't quite put myself together as well as, say this morning shopper. Tomorrow morning, on goes the lipstick!)






Let's feature the bakery's cakes today:






Though of course, my purchase is from this shelf:







And berries at the green grocer's (yep, Harry Cover).







Here's the check out counter, where evidence of early morning delivery/accounting, along with many cups of espresso abounds.







And no sooner does Snowdrop eat her breakfast (oh! which do I eat first??)...







...and is bathed and dressed, then boom! Her aunt and uncle arrive!

Is that really you?? All the way from Minneapolis??







Yes!







We ask Snowdrop to show the new arrivals the Eiffel Tower. She runs excitedly toward the window. Here! Look here, look here, look here!







We make plans for the day: the youngest couple will rest a while, Snowdrop's dad will work and mom, Snowdrop and grandma will run an errand or two, then go to a new park we think may be nice for the little girl.

We can go out now???







Errands include picking up a new stroller toy (the one I brought over was at some moment taken, possibly by some child).

How about that mouse? Let's call her souris.







We also stop at a children's clothing store. It is so warm today that Snowdrop has shunned tights. We need a diaper cover.

This is what children do when their parents spend too long in the store:







Thankfully, our errand is a quick one.

The park we choose is just across the Place des Invalides. I've passed it a million times and never once considered how ideal it might be for my granddaughter. Yes, you do look at places with new eyes when you travel with young ones.






We thought she'd enjoy the sand box here, but she surprises us by preferring a stroll. It's a gated park and so there is no danger of her running out on the street. She walks...






she runs through grassy areas...






She is joyous and appreciative of these moments where she can do whatever her heart tells her.






Can I just put a smiley face here? Your run, Snowdrop, is precious.






We come back in time for her nap. The young set goes out in search of sandwiches for lunch (after studying carefully which bakery might deliver the best ones, of course; we are like that). They come back with pastries as well.






Then comes the big walk: how is it that the young couple can do this, given the long flight, the lack of sleep, the tiredness?

We do it anyway. Starting here:






We cut across to the right bank and suddenly we are part of a huge wave of humanity. There's no escape. Or is there? We find the carousel. (Or are you of the opinion that it should be referred to as a merry-go-round?)







We continue. Snowdrop is thrilled to have these two guide her through the tumult.






And then to have her dose of freedom.






Joy is running where your spirit pulls you.






Relief is having other help you master the tough steps in life.






My two young families.







Views we pass along the way...






And now it is evening and we are all supposed to go out to dinner, but Snowdrop is feeling a bit under the weather and so the parents stay home with her and I go out with just the youngest couple. Perhaps it is at it should be -- after all, I haven't seen them for such a long time. We eat at a wonderful place -- Au Passage, clear across town. Small plates, young crowd, delicious food, not trendy for show but showy nonetheless -- how do these people do such artful stuff??? (This is our side carrot dish...)






We're nearly done now -- the day is so late for the youngest couple of course, but too for the older set (that would be me). We stop at just one place in this neighborhood that has a mixture of many trendy and less trendy places  -- Pop In -- where we have one last drink before returning home.






Oh, the evening doesn't end there. Snowdrop's parents are eager for stories and updates and we all have an exhilarating time recalling, exaggerating, sharing. And now I am the only one up and you have to forgive me the lack of editing because really, we all should have been asleep many many hours ago.