Mes Yeux Ouverts (my open eyes)

Breakfast in America in Paris

2012-02-18T08:35:00.000-05:00

If you didn't have to read that title more than one time to understand it, then you've been to Breakfast in America...in Paris.

It's a funny geographic warp (like a time warp, but with geography). The wait staff all speak English, mostly American English, the menu is entirely in English (perhaps there's a French language version, too?) and the dishes are authentically right out of the American diner.

Burgers, wraps, chili, club sandwiches, shakes and sundaes abound, but I'm coveting the blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup. It's just that it was 1pm on a Monday, and it didn't seem like the right time of day for such indulgence (though after my order arrived, I saw quite a few of them nearby). Next time for sure.

Breakfast in America
17, rue des Ecoles
75005 Paris, France
Métro: Cardinal LeMoine or Jussieu
Tel: 01 43 54 50 28

Paris Addresses

2012-02-16T16:52:00.000-05:00

I arrived home the other day and found a catalogue from a local retailer at the base of my door. Here's the address (with the name blacked out to protect a prior tenant's privacy):

No apartment numbers are used so the addresses need to be descriptive. This one says "First floor, left door, red stairway."

I never really noticed that my stairway is red. And what happens if the landlord paints the hallway another color? A change of address?

Saint-Valentin

2012-02-15T13:28:00.000-05:00

A day late but the memories linger, of chocolates and heart displays and roses in buckets in front of every flower store and couples walking hand in hand on the rain-slicked streets in the evening. (How those girls walk on the Paris streets in stiletto heels I'll never know.)

But, back to Valentine's Day in Paris, just a few snaps of all the caloric joy being spread -

I admire the displays and am happy there is glass between me and the works of edible art behind it. There's just far too much of this gorgeous stuff floating around here. However, I did have a slice from pictures 3 and 4, as that amazing-looking (and amazing-tasting) pistachio/raspberry macaron heart cake was serving double-duty as a birthday cake, topping a dinner that lasted till midnight and featured a cheese course and tarte tatin as well, not to mention the bottles of white and red wine, and the champagne that began and ended the evening.

And that's another mystery besides the stiletto heels. Just how does someone dine until midnight and then go to work or school the next morning? Apparently, this American is now conducting an empirical study to find out. So far, I'm discovering that it works far better for the locals than for me.

Perhaps, like exercise, it's simply a matter of practice.

Bibliotheque Centre Pompidou

2012-02-13T15:37:00.001-05:00

Very little about the first few days back in Paris and my experiences here resemble the pattern of my days, in school or otherwise, of the first "semester" I spent here last fall. And that's just fine, because the new of Paris coming at me even after a few months living here reminds me that, really, I'm just a short-term visitor, trying to make the most of my days here.

For example, last Friday, when a fellow student told me about the large library in the Pompidou Center, I was confused. Of course, we all know about the contemporary art museum. I had no idea there was also a library. So I walked over (in the below-freezing temps) to check it out for myself.

The entrance is on the opposite side of the building from the museum's entrance with which most Paris visitors are familiar. The library itself is on a bit of the ground level and the entirety of the next two floors up. It's enormous, and there is media of every kind located there, including many internet terminals for public use, television sets tuned to broadcasts from various countries around the world, a large music department with CDs for listening and recorded performing art works for viewing, world periodicals, and books on academic as well as practical topics, such as finding jobs and living in Paris. And there are many, many communal tables for sitting, reading and studying. Food isn't permitted inside the library, except for a small cafeteria on one of its levels.

I'm told there is most often a long line to get into the library; hence, the rope maze out front resembles the waiting area for security clearance at an airport. But, perhaps because it was an unusually cold day, there was no one waiting outside when I visited. Inside, however, you do have to cue up to register to use a computer terminal.

It's a spare, open space, with large windows on all sides, sun streaming in on the rare sunny days, and with wonderful views of the neighborhood in which the Pompidou resides.

Much more information can be found on the BPI link here, such as hours, speakers and events. The museum is open to all and is worth a visit.

Paris Deep Freeze

2012-02-09T17:14:00.001-05:00

The poor fellow in that last photo is a little how I felt, arriving back in Paris after over two weeks of practically Caribbean-like weather in New York. OK, so now it really feels like winter is supposed to feel but my body is in shock; at last look, it was witnessing confused cherry blossoms around the Central Park Reservoir in their premature stages of development, two months too early.

The Parisians are apparently so unaccustomed to this that the frozen fountain (above) is still burbling water into that unintentional ice sculpture. Ah, art!

It's all the television news is talking about here, other than the upcoming presidential elections in both France and the US. Gee, I wonder why we don't give as much time to the French elections over in the US. How many people in the US know who's running in France? But I do love listening to the French newscasters pronounce "Gingrich;" those hard 'g's' are quite a mouthful.

By the way, that dusting of snow is about as much as Paris gets, I'm told. Good thing, because no one removes it and I slipped on sidewalk ice a couple of times today and let loose a few choice English-language words and phrases.

So much for blending in.

Wrap up

2012-01-20T05:13:00.000-05:00

How do I wrap up a period of almost four months that began like this -

and has finished off like this -

It's the passing of the seasons, something this garden has seen for many, many years...and that I was blessed to experience for one of them.

And in those seasons of Fall and Winter 2011-12, it's impossible to sum up the feelings or the memories in a few words. But, truly, the words grateful, appreciative and blessed are primarily the ones that come to mind. All the stories behind all the feelings and gratefulness will have to wait, for now.

But, before I depart (to visit friends, family and seek the ever elusive French student visa, not necessarily in that order), just a few more photos that capture some of my diverse Paris memories of Fall/Winter 2011-12.

Discount Pharmacy in Paris

2012-01-19T15:14:00.001-05:00

I love shopping at the beautiful pharmacies in Paris (at least the wandering through part of it). It has an organized calm and ambience that no number of Duane Reades in New York ever will.

But the prices! Zuts alors!

The other day, I was walking by this one, and saw so many women in there that my shopping radar told me it was not an ordinary pharmacy. I joined the crowd and asked a shopper in line. The answer I got was that this place is well-known in Paris because it has a huge selection, hugely discounted. Or at least that's what I understood of the quickly spoken French.

In any case, I shopped and found it to be true. For example, the Vichy brand body lotion I like in Paris costs 13 euros everywhere else. Here, it was 8 euros.

If you're in, or coming to, Paris, it's worth making note of it if you have a few favorites you have to bring home as gifts.

Citypharma

26 Rue du Four

75006 Paris

0%

2012-01-16T16:10:00.000-05:00

0% fromage blanc! Oh happy day!

Yes, I ate that entire container - it was amazing, guilt-free indulgence (so, so hard to find in cream/butter/fat-laden France).

If you want to find it, too, Aux Vieux Colombier, 65, rue de Rennes (6th arrondissement, métro Saint Sulpice), is the place, a beautiful little café right in the heart of some of the best shopping in Paris.

65, Rue de Rennes , 75006 Pari

65, Rue de Rennes , 75006 Paris

65, Rue de Rennes , 75006 Paris was the place.

Street Signs of Paris

2012-01-15T04:24:00.000-05:00

Street signs in Paris are probably the thing most often regarded, sometimes with a smile, sometimes with a frown. Up, down, up, down - up to the signs, down to the map, up to the signs, down to the.... You get the idea.

So it's natural to sometimes notice more than the name displayed on said sign and to make note, or to take a picture. Above is a famous and very busy corner of Boulevard du Montparnasse where it meets the Boulevard Raspail; it's the location of many of Paris's most historic grand brasseries and cafés (La Coupole, Le Select, Le Dôme, Le Relais de L'Entrecôte and La Rotonde) and center of artistic Paris life in the early 1900's which blended with the American expat literary scene of that era.

I found that particular street sign interesting because of the beautiful gold mosaic located directly above the iconic Paris street signage of today.

For some reason, the sign in the Sixth Arrondissement above also has another above it, but it looks as though it could have been in that wall since Roman times, using the Roman lettering style of "V" to mean "U" in "RUE." Eh, probably not.

Near l'Eglise Saint Sulpice, above the sign at Rue Henry de Jouvernel is another sign that has been aggressively crossed out, to avoid all confusion. Good thing.

But look directly behind you to the other side of the same street, and the above is what you see. And just to make double sure that you're doubly confused, cross the street, look left again, and below is another sign (of an older vintage), with the same name. I think Férou wins; even Googlemaps agrees.

Les Soldes 2012

2012-01-12T09:41:00.000-05:00

The big French winter sales began yesterday! They are mandated by the French government (and may only run twice a year during these designated periods, except for "private" sales, which is for another post). This round of les soldes will continue through February 21. The prices continue to decrease as the days and weeks pass, as does the available inventory, so the game of timing is a precious one.

Buy your airline ticket now; there is still time! I just saw a sale on the American Airlines website with great fares from the U.S., if anyone's interested.

Chante France

2012-01-11T03:28:00.000-05:00

A new French radio station from Paris for my iphone and ipad! To compliment my classical favorite, Radio Classique, I have just added Chante France. Check out the internet link, and if it's a hit, you can add it as an app through itunes to your iphone, etc. (gratuit - free).

This station plays popular songs in France, old and new. I've found that many popular radio stations in Paris play as many (or more) songs that are sung in English (like American hits) as in French. This one is all French! I discovered it by receiving the station in Paris through the old-fashioned radio on my très basic French cell phone.

It's great as a running companion, and I can try to mouth the songs as I run, which must be quite a sight. My French teacher keeps telling us to join a church choir to améliorer our spoken French, but since I don't see me singing at Notre Dame any time soon, this is my next best thing.

Winter Tennis

2012-01-09T16:01:00.000-05:00

Lucky kids who get to take off Wednesday from school every week! Those are the young Parisian schoolchildren. And, not just lucky, they get to play tennis, even in winter, under the rare Parisian sun, in front of the Palais (now the Senat) in the Jardin du Luxembourg.

And when the students are not using the courts (which are reserved for them on Wednesdays), the adults come out to swing their racquets on the cold days, too, wearing scarves wrapped securely and fashionably around their necks, bien sûr, and even gloves (I cannot be sure what that does to their quality of play, but at least they get out there, year-round, it seems.)

Galettes des Rois

2012-01-08T10:18:00.000-05:00

Now that I noticed them, I notice them everywhere. Not that I've tasted one yet. But the pistachio version has caught my eye, so it's only a matter of time, though I understand I better act fast - Epiphany was January 6, and today (Sunday) is the day it is celebrated in France.

Poilâne

2012-01-04T15:16:00.000-05:00

Back in Paris after the start of the New Year, I got a serious craving for my favorite chaussons aux pommes from Poilâne (which I mentioned recently in an earlier post). I was dreaming about them while away and it took me only two days to get back there. While there, I saw these beautiful new year's cakes, called Galettes des Rois. The Poilâne website describes them this way -

The "Galette des Rois” is a French tradition. A cake you eat in January only, that hides a charm. The person who finds the charm is Queen or King of the day and bears the golden paper crown that comes with the cake. This Galette season, Poilâne asked Le Petit Atelier de Paris to create a charm that would symbolize luck and happiness. They crafted two hands; one bearing a heart, and the other a four-leaf clover.

Of course, what brought this bakery fame are its large round sourdough country bread loaves. If you visit one of their three little shops in Paris (and now also in London), be sure to take a punition (shortbread cookie) which you'll find in the basket that sits on the table where you pay for your purchase. "Punition" means punishment, but of course a visit to Poilâne is anything but.

Birdland

2012-01-03T15:53:00.000-05:00

Traversing the sidewalks of Eighth Avenue wasn't easy on New Year's Eve. The crowd that was growing larger and noisier by the minute was only just beginning their party evening, loading up on street vendor gear advertising their support for "2012." I'm all in favor of that.

However, I had something better, perhaps a bit more low-key but every bit as exciting, that I was aiming for just around the corner at West 44th Street.

It was a New Year's Eve celebration worthy of Times Square and New York City! That was, and is, Birdland. It's a New York jazz institution and, on New Year's Eve this year, big band jazz was featured.

The music was big indeed, especially from my perch at a table that was practically in the band. Put it this way, the bass player could have easily reached for our bottle of wine had he wanted to. And, looking around, it felt possible that there were as many band members as audience members who were thoroughly enjoying the sold-out set.

Birdland's room is just the right size with good seating throughout, even at the bar. The dinner menu features Southern items with a cajun flair.

The Birdland Big Band, directed by Tommy Igoe, performs every Friday, so whether it's New Year's Eve or any other Friday, Birdland is a true New York find worthy of an evening out (for about the price of a night of theater around the corner, including dinner).

Fifth and 57th

2012-01-02T10:32:00.000-05:00

New Yorkers call this the epicenter of the center of the Universe. It seems everyone else does, too. This year, during the Christmas/New Year's holiday weeks, I found midtown more packed with bodies than ever. Bloomberg welcomed New York City's 50 millionth visitor of 2011 last week. Well, good. It's great for the economy and a wonderful charge to the city and us folks who live here to have so many happy tourists loving the city we love, too. (However, why they're only in midtown remains a mystery to me. Spread out! The rest of New York welcomes you, too!)

On the other hand, the glories of the intersection of these two major thoroughfares have entertained me for decades, especially when I worked in offices in the neighborhood and used the beautiful shops nearby, including Bergdorf's, as momentary "sanity" escapes when things became something less than beautiful at the office. To call it a reality check would be hard to justify; they were more like fantasy checks to combat reality.

And the windows at Bergdorf are always the most opulent at Christmastime.

At the opposite corner, this year's Tiffany windows were definitely about the clever and colorful carousel framing.

Writing this from back in Paris, where it was sunny, then rained, and now stopped, all in the time I was posting, provides quite the contrast. Not that there's anything wrong with that...

New York Favorites - Union Square

2011-12-24T09:50:00.000-05:00

Union Square Greenmarket

It's not exactly "raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens," but these are a few of my favorite things in and around Union Square in New York City.

the fabulous produce at the Greenmarket

Beads of Paradise

Journelle

Union Square Café

...not to mention agnès b., Blue Water Grill, the enormous Barnes & Noble, Republic, Paragon Sports, and Casa Mono.

So many places, so little time!

Zut Alors!

2011-12-22T17:38:00.000-05:00

You mean I didn't need to leave New York City?

Let me put it another way - when they start selling Parisian baguettes and Poilâne's chaussons au pommes in the subway, too, I might reconsider.

Happy Chanukah!

2011-12-21T16:13:00.000-05:00

Chanukah starts today. And one could find freshly made-to-order latkes (potato pancakes) in the Union Square Greenmarket today, just for the occasion.

HAPPY CHANUKAH!

Heading Home

2011-12-18T10:49:00.000-05:00

How timely. I should probably buy this magazine from its wet kiosque display and read it on the plane, just so I remember what New York looks like after months away.

"New York, The New Dream"

Actually, after a 5-hour delayed flight (not due to Parisian strikes of any kind!), courtesy of a good old United States airline, I am finally home sweet home. This morning, New York is bright, sunny and bracingly cold. I look forward to re-exploring my hometown.

'Tis the Season, Edgy Paris Version

2011-12-17T01:04:00.001-05:00

I saw this being painted by this team of artists(?) on a wall along the Canal Saint-Martin, a neighborhood of Paris in which it appears that graffiti is prized as an art form, or a representation of individual expression, or something like that. Anyway, it (graffiti, that is) seems to be everywhere in this quartier.

If the mural is self-explanatory, do let me know, because I have no idea. It's a fun neighborhood (more about it in another post), so I guess I better go back there to see it finished.

Anyway, ho-ho-ho!

Windy City

2011-12-16T09:50:00.000-05:00

"Risk of violent winds, falling branches"

Not usually the scene I'm used to here, but the wind has picked up and has been banging the French door windows in the apartment since last night. Strong rain, too. No, I'm not in Chicago. There's a storm blowing through France from the ocean (Atlantic, for those of you not into geography), named Tempête Joachim that's apparently doing some real damage closer to the sea.

Here a bit of local scenery to provide a better idea -


These chairs are not lying down on purpose.

In fact, on my walk today, I got stuck in the Luxembourg Garden and realized there were no other people around me. There seemed to be just one entrance open on each side of the park, and no others. I'm not quite sure how that helps prevent anyone being hit by a flying branch, but I suppose it's Paris's way of saying, "We'll let you in the Jardin, but only if you really make an effort to find an open gate, and then it's your problem if after you've given it that much thought, you have decided to take the risk." Kind of passive/aggressive, if you ask me.

And then there's that sign at the top, which is located at the open entrances, to make the point extra clear. I can just see a lawyer (working with an Impressionist artist) having thought that one up.

Kong

2011-12-15T17:54:00.000-05:00

If you're looking for a different kind of place to sit and rest your feet in the center of Paris, to have a coffee, tea or something stronger, enjoy a dessert or more, and have a wonderful view, Kong is the place. Typical of a Philip Stark-designed bar/restaurant, it is as much about what you see inside as what you see outside.

It was a rainy afternoon when I arrived there for tea and dessert. The word I got was that this is the best time to beat the crowds. True enough.

It was a calm and chic respite from the rain and traffic on the streets six floors below. But it's quite the scene at night, I'm told.

KONG is located just north of the Pont Neuf (pictured) and is next door to the former La Samaritaine department store. The view of the detailing along the exterior wall alone is worth the visit (that's the yellow area along the right side of the photo). It's also well-located to a few métro lines and stops, so that if it rains, you can finally put your umbrella away and still enjoy a view of Paris. That's what I call having your cake and eating it, too.

KONG
1, rue du Pont Neuf
75001 Paris

Gothic Paris

2011-12-14T03:25:00.000-05:00

Much like New York, I find Paris has many facets. The historic tends to reign for the first-time tourists in their pursuit of the grand architecture, museums (many of which are housed in the most historic buildings of the city), the great gardens, the winding rues of the pre-Revolution days and the Hausmann boulevards.

I am most surprised by all that I see that is new and alive about this city, and I will start to post more about those things...it's just that it's impossible not to point a camera at a building like Notre Dame Cathedral.

Case in point - last Saturday night's full moon (we didn't get the eclipse, as far as I know), bright and pushing through the clouds that tried unsuccessfully to hide it. And it made for some very Gothic-looking photographs of the Cathedral.

La Toilette

2011-12-13T03:07:00.000-05:00

The subject for today is toilets. There will be no photos.

OK.

I am a bit confused (but certainly have been and shall continue to be accepting - given no choice, there is truly no need for discussion on the subject, but it is curious to this American). Here are the, I believe, contradictory facts. But perhaps they're not, and I just don't have the full cultural history to understand completely.

1. Even the smallest apartment (like mine in Paris, for example), if it has its own bathroom facilities, separates the "loo" from the bathing/sink area. Yes, of course in the U.S., in fancier hotel chains such as Four Seasons, and in some upscale private residences, there may be a door that separates the toilet from the rest of the bathroom, but that isn't what I mean. In Paris homes, the toilet is a separate room, distant from the bathing area, and most often even without a sink to wash hands afterward. I've had to seek out a nearby kitchen for an available sink on several occasions. I find this inconvenient for all (and perhaps even discourages contemporary hygienic practice). After getting past the lack-of-sink-near-the-toilet issue, I began to think how "civilized" it is, to remove toilets from the rest of the house, just to stick it in its own "closet," basically. How private, how refined, how solo this practice is.

BUT -

2. Many cafés, schools, museums and other public spaces do not divide the bathroom facilities by gender. La toilette, c'est pour tout! The stalls may be individual (though I've sometimes found unenclosed urinals in the same environment but luckily have not found them in use), but the door to the general environment of the stalls and sinks is used by all...or there may not even be a door - just a tiny winding spiral staircase at the bottom of which are one or two sinks and one or two doors behind each of which is a toilet.

Is this really a major culture discovery? No. But is it a bit contradictory? Perhaps, but maybe just to us puritanical Americans. Here goes - there is no need to divide the sexes in this basic human function (this is a country that bares the female breast in the media and on beaches with ease); let them all use the same bathroom. It saves all kinds of resources and space. And, as for the function itself, in the home, put it as far from the other aesthetic niceties as possible, as there's nothing aesthetic about it - a simple toilet in a tiny empty closet to be segregated from the rest of the home.

And there's France in a nutshell. Aesthetics rule. Gender privacy, not so much.

'Tis the Season, Paris Version

2011-12-07T10:30:00.000-05:00

It's a first for me - December in Paris. And I've been carrying my camera around, looking for Christmas. I assume this is "part I" because I must, really must, find more. Thus far, Paris is no competition for New York (not that there's anything wrong with that)!

Store front windows might be decorated more brightly than usual, with packaging more on display and highlighting gift items, maybe a sparkle here or there as well -

- but, otherwise, not so much. Some shopping streets have lights strung overhead.

The Pantheon has a cluster of Christmas trees in front.

The métro features a few (and by that, I mean a minority) of posters featuring or promoting Christmas.

Of course, those métro posters are both ads for department stores. And speaking of which, since Bon Marché is just down the block and is such a lovely store, I wondered what I'd find there, figuring perhaps a Bergdorf's kind of glitz and glamour.

(The building's exterior lighting changes in the darkness of a winter evening.)

Nope, these windows are a bit interesting, but definitely understated, and no lines of children, tourists or anyone else for that matter were crowding either the store windows or the aisles of the store itself.

In fact, the holiday store windows are, to this American consumer's eye, a bit odd. As you can perhaps see, in front of each window has been placed a protective shell that extends outward onto the sidewalk.

One walks into this covering to view and hear a little sound/light show (and to be protected from the rain - now there's a reason!). It's in French, of course, and features not particularly Christmas-y music, more like rock-and-roll, the beat of which pulsates with the lights from the store windows. I hate to be a nay-sayer, but I wasn't compelled to spend money on gifts or to go inside the store. Too bad, I believe, because I understand that in 1909, the first moving-figure window for Christmas shoppers was in fact in the window of Le Bon Marche. That I'd like to see!

I'll have to get over to Printemps and Galeries Lafayette and report back further in part 2 of this minimalist review.

Strasbourg

2011-12-02T17:03:00.000-05:00

I finally got myself the weekend travel I'd been talking about for two months and went as far east as I could go on the TGV and still be in France. This took me to Strasbourg, the seat of the European Parliament and principal city of the Alsace region.

As the pictures show, it's a beautiful place. In fact, Strasbourg's historic city center, the Grand Ile, was classified a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 1988, the first time such an honor was placed on an entire city center.

It's a quick and very comfortable (reserved seats) two-hour TGV high-speed train ride from Paris, and is a couple of kilometers from the German border. This time of year is the time to be there, with the Christmas markets set up and open (I was a week too soon, and only got to see the markets being built, but enjoyed plenty of Christmas lighting and decoration).

Pastry shops and chocolate shops were scattered throughout the many pedestrian streets, featuring the local delicacy, kougelhopf.

Strasbourg is a major college city; so of course pubs, live music and local beer like Kronenbourg were also easily found. And along the many shopping streets were traditional cafés featuring chocolat chaud and vin chaud (the aroma alone could cure a head cold, sore feet from walking, or tourist brain from history acousti-guide overload).

I enjoyed the Cathedral, which was in the middle of Sunday mass when I went (that's really the way to see a cathedral, if you ask me, even if it's not your religion of choice, because you get to experience the building the way it was intended - sounds, scents, organ, voices, and in this case, a full orchestra "backing up" the voices and organ; it was a "take your breath away" moment). And let's not forget climbing up the much-exposed spiral staircase that leads to an upper level outdoor terrace of the Cathedral for stellar photo-ops and a good chance of contracting acrophobia.

In a back corner of the Cathedral as well is the third astronomical clock that has been on this spot since 1681, which is a must-see at 12:30pm each day at it sounds the noon hour (don't ask) and the 18-inch high figures of Jesus and the Apostles proceed through openings located above the clock face.

Also good is the boat ride that circles the Ile on the Ill (that's the river on which Strasbourg is situated). The Rohan Palace (really) houses three museums, the Archeological Museum, the Museum of Decorative Arts and the Fine Arts Museum. There's also a museum of the city of Strasbourg, which is kid-friendly and interactive and does a pretty good job of reinforcing the powerful place which the city and the region hold in the history of France, even through this century.

The Rohan Palace

It's a perfect two-day visit from Paris, or from anywhere in Europe. There's enough going on here, as a tourist spot and as a living, breathing city, to be a destination for anyone seeking a charming, friendly, warm spot to visit and explore. PS - if you bike, bring! It's hard to find a rental on Saturday and Sunday, but bike lanes are all over and traffic is light on most roads in the center.

une demi

2011-11-29T15:35:00.000-05:00

In another one of my "aha!" moments here, I recently made the highly important discovery that one can purchase half of a baguette at the local boulangerie! This is incredibly serious business, as the French want (and now, of course so do I) their bread fresh, fresh, fresh. And, being alone here, what I've been doing with the rest of entire baguettes uneaten the next day is a tragedy that shall not be revealed.

But you can guess. Either it's:

1. Eating the whole thing and feeling horribly guilty.

2. Throwing over half of it away and feeling horribly guilty.

3. Well, there's really not a #3.

I now feel very cool (and thrifty) doing as the locals do...and it costs (drum roll, please) half the cost of the whole baguette.

Monoprix

2011-11-25T13:48:00.000-05:00

On the everyday end of the food shopping scale in Paris, meaning the type of store carrying all the basic needs (kind of like a Target or Walmart, minus the scale of those stores), is Monoprix. I know there are other options somewhat larger or smaller (such as Carrefour, 8 à Huit and the little Monops), but the Monoprix at Boulevard Saint Germain and Rue de Rennes is my neighborhood big supermarket, and a very nice one, notwithstanding the gripes I'd read or heard before I arrived.

with Saint-Germain-des-Prés just across the street

I actually look forward to shopping here. At first, it was just fun (and frustrating) figuring out what was what inside the products' packaging (mistakes were made - paper towel packaging is similar to toilet paper roll packaging). It's easier now; for example, I know that I have to get fruit and veggies weighed and price-labeled BEFORE I get to the check-out counter! But the contrasts are still numerous and there's always something new to find out, try or buy.

First off, where else in a grocery store can you buy so many types of wines, many priced under 5 euros? (Oops, the photo is of "les whiskies" - oh well, you get the idea - full service wine and liquor.)

And get to taste a sample of pastis while you shop?

As in all French supermarkets, there are a million yogurts, of course, taking up two dairy aisles, and then another dairy aisle for all the other dairy items (not including the non-refrigerated milk which hangs out by the water aisle). And what a great idea that is - I haven't had milk go bad at all here! PS - "nonfat" is "écremé," and it not impossible to find in a grocery store; however, forget about it in a café. There, you just get the "stupid American" look from the otherwise very nice bartender.

The fresh cheeses and patés, fresh fruits and vegetables are pretty impressive, too, with prices about as reasonable as you're going to find in that part of Paris. And the guy behind the counter is a hoot (he offered to pose for my pictures, for a small fee).

But, really, what's with the Philadelphia Cream Cheese fetish? We need to taste samples of it? I don't think so.

All the world is there on a Friday after work hours, the checkout lines are long but move quickly, and the cashiers are the only ugly part of the experience (and, yes, I'm stereotyping here).

You bag your own items, preferably in your own sacks, but the cashier will part with a plastic bag or two if you look pathetic, and then you get the "stupid American" look back. And the worst is yet to come - if you don't bag your items quickly enough to get them off the counter, the cashier will just halt the entire process and not commence checking out the customer behind you, and then you're getting the evil eye from the entire checkout line! So, I've learned - start bagging immediately, even before you've paid. Whew.

But if you have free time while you're waiting to check out, there's always the TV monitor hanging from the ceiling, offering specials, the weather and, most importantly, today's horoscope.

Practically speaking, for a visitor to Paris, definitely stopping at a Monoprix (or any grocery store) is a must-do. First is the cultural experience (see above). And second, you can pick up sandwiches, water, wine, fruit, croissants, chocolates, picnic supplies, etc. (whether the picnic is in your hotel room, a park or as you stroll), and save a lot of euros on the basics, which can then be spent on something else in Paris. It won't be hard to figure out what to spend them on.

Vaux-le-Vicomte

2011-11-22T17:48:00.000-05:00

So many options abound for a day out of the center of Paris that it's almost numbing to decide what to choose. It just about paralyzed me, so much so that, other than my "randonnée" in a nearby pastoral suburb a while back, I just couldn't pry myself out of Paris for even a moment. Of course, being tempted by all that Paris itself has to offer makes it just that much harder to leave.

However, finally prodded by friends to move out of my comfy surroundings, Vaux-le-Vicomte was the choice for a Saturday in the country. Vaux-le-Vicomte is a chateau (one of many) that exists within a short train ride from Paris. It was a perfect day trip on a perfect late-fall day.

There is great history to this chateau (isn't there always?), and inside the chateau itself, they do a good job (kid-friendly, too, with some animated life-size figures in the decorated rooms) of presenting it. In fact, the chateau and the gardens were designed by the architect and garden designer who later designed Versailles, and it is referred to as the "inspiration" for Versailles. The good news is that it's not only much more manageable than Versailles to take in as a visitor, but the whole world isn't there with you on the day you're visiting!

For me, the real treat was the garden that seemed to go on and on, which in its time was so sophisticated in its design that the view changes throughout one's stroll through it, providing optical illusions and points of interest that are unseen until reaching various points along the way.

We brought sandwiches with us that we'd purchased at the train station, and so one goal was to locate just the right spot for our picnic. That worked out well because, even though there was food for sale on premises, we didn't have to succumb to tourist site prices and quality.

Practical tip: the chateau runs a shuttle service to and from the train station closest to the chateau (Melun), but only in season. My visit was OFF-season (check the website) and the shuttle was no longer running. Getting to the chateau from the Melun train station after the 25-minute train ride from Gare de Lyon in Paris was no problem, but the return was an issue. We waited almost an hour by the side of the road, along with others who'd called the same lone taxi service for the town, which appeared to have a total of two drivers and two taxis on staff.

That bit of inconvenience was quickly forgotten when we decided to check out the spectacular (and also historic) Le Train Bleu in the Gare de Lyon upon return and sit for a while in the cushy leather chairs of its "Big Ben Bar" contemplating our out-of-Paris day.

Paris. Night.

2011-11-15T16:02:00.000-05:00

A beautiful combination. (Unfortunately, no time to talk - that is, write, right now. Test tomorrow.) Also, I'm not even outside (good thing, because it's cold, for one of the first nights of the season). Heat on, papers spread about, a good chance to remember how incredible it is, just practically outside my door.

"La Source"

2011-11-12T03:23:00.000-05:00

I was so overcome by my first ballet evening at the Opera Garnier that I jumped at the chance to buy a ticket to see another classical ballet performed there by the Paris Opera Ballet. The ballet is La Source, and the ballet and its music were marvelous, but the memorable standout (for better or worse) were the incredible haut-couture costumes designed by Christian Lacroix.

My curtain call photos don't do these costumes justice, but the New York Times also made note of Lacroix's recent efforts and much more detailed photos are here.

Of course, I cannot pass up another opportunity to display a few more photos of the iconic Paris Opera house. No matter what is playing if/when a visit to Paris is on the calendar, this is a place not to miss for a theater lover (that is, a lover of the theater space itself). Like many in Europe, the Opera is to theater what Notre Dame Cathedral is to places of worship.

Well, that's my view anyway. Here, decide for yourself.

La Grande Epicerie

2011-11-11T07:44:00.001-05:00

Thanksgiving is almost here! Well, not here, exactly, but west of here, in New York and the United States for sure. However, it's sort of going to be here for me in Paris in the form of a dinner at the home of an expat and I've agreed to bring the cranberry sauce. Those who know me will nod that this dish has just the right level of difficulty of preparation for me. And so...

I was told La Grande Epicerie of Le Bon Marche department store, which just happens to be about a 5 minute walk from lucky me, carries fresh cranberries around the holidays, so I went to see for myself.

What a shopping experience! If you've every been to Harrod's Food Halls in London, you won't be quite as impressed; it's neither as large nor full of food stations at which to perch yourself to dine on site. However, it's very much worth a stop for a number of reasons.

There are cuisines of many countries, of course being heavily focused on those of France, such as your chocolates, your cheeses, your yogurts, your anything-dairy-and-full-fatted-things-in-pots, and of course, your baked goods. (Note: it's great for finding gifts to bring home all in one place! Classy, many price ranges, and there are many pretty packages, easy to pack, sturdy and likely to pass US Customs.)

Like I said, the Epicerie has a separate aisle for each of many countries, such as Tex-Mex. Wait - what? It's not enough of a head-scratcher to first spot "Tex-Mex" as a country, but then to see it on the same aisle as Spain and Germany makes me wonder if the UN could use some help from the folks at the Epicerie, or vice versa. I mean, as a Texan, of course, I do understand that Texas is viewed by many as separate country, or perhaps even a separate planet, but I digress...

My every-time-I-go-to-the-Epicerie aisle -

I prefer to pick up baked goodies from the little shops I pass during the course of a day, probably because for me it's such an impulse purchase, and so by the time I see this one, I usually walk right by (probably for the best, given the size of my wallet, tummy and kitchen).

And then, of course, Zabars has better smoked salmon (I don't actually know this for a fact, since I've not yet purchased any from the Epicerie, but I MUST assume it if I am to retain my New York Upper West Side residency). The big difference here appears to be the use of tiny pre-made pancakes with the smoked salmon. Where are the bagels?

Nope, not by the Philadelphia Cream Cheese!

And yet, I never really did find the "American" aisle, wondering what the heck would be there (and knowing, of course, that even the other aisles had American products that I immediately recognized by their iconic logos, such as the Philly cream cheese above, Newman's Own products, and this display below).

Although that display did make me laugh, my immediate reactions came fast and numerous - "Are you kidding? This is the best we Americans can import to France - Oreos, Jones soda and American marshmallows in a bag, when France has unbelievable pastries and cakes, Badoit and hand-made marshmallows sold in patisseries?" Quickly followed by - "As an American, these aren't even the things I want to make me feel at home. Where's the Skippy? The Quaker Oat Squares? The Mallomars?" Oh well, maybe if I squish the Oreo with the Marshmallow...

Back to the point of my journey to the Epicerie, ah, yes, here are the cranberries!

6.95 euros a bag! (that's about $9.47 today) OK, so the easy lesson learned - when in France, buy French. But a little nostalgia far from home is a very sweet thing, and worth every centime, every now and then.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Paris Cop-Out

2011-11-03T17:04:00.000-04:00

No time for much of a thoughtful post (too busy conjugating and trying to agree verbs with subjects, objects and keep myself from throwing things across the room in frustration), so I'm just going to post some really pretty pictures. I'll do a better job next time, maybe.

Well, after looking at all those nice things, I don't mind having to go back to conjugating verbs after all.

Vous or Tu?

2011-11-01T18:02:00.000-04:00

In one more of what will probably become an unplanned series of posts, we find ourselves face to face yet again with another cultural distinction between France and the US that is expressed through language.

The "tu versus vous" nuance has become very interesting to me, because I realize it slows me down when speaking to someone until it's become clear which is going to be used. For those who don't speak French, what this is is a way to formalize how one refers to the other person in a conversation. The use of "vous" is formal (as well as always being the plural form of "you" - for you Texans, it's the "y'all"). The use of "tu" is informal. So when to use which? It's so important a distinction, in fact, that once a change from "vous" to "tu" is made, there's no going back. It means the two people have crossed a barrier of some sort, into the world of an informal relationship, and a more intimate one.

Well, we Americans want to be informal with everyone. We have had presidents who want to offer up neck massages in public to German prime ministers, in fact. That's just who we are. So, this is really hard to understand. And without knowing just what word to use in order to not seem too forward or insulting, it's often been shutting me down until I understand how the other person is going to use it. I'm sure that's not how the French do it, and so I asked.

I was told it's a matter of showing respect. OK, so a student says "vous" to a teacher, always. The teacher may or may not do likewise with the student (depends on the age of the student, perhaps - young children get "tu" while adult students get "vous" - I have no idea what happens with high school age students). In business, you "vous" your way up the ranks, while maybe the higher-ups say "tu" in response? Again, I have no idea. And as for first introductions, always a "vous." And with large age differences, always "vous" when speaking to the older person.

Perhaps not so hard to grasp, but it doesn't really make sense to me. For example, at dinner with a family of two generations, in which I know the member of the younger generation very well but have only met the parents (who are my age) a couple of times, the young person always uses "vous" with me, when I'd prefer to be informal with her and would also prefer that she be informal with me (but she won't). And the parents - well, I'm not sure when the "switch" is to properly occur. It's exhausting!

I included the newspaper article above because it shows just how symbolic this distinction is, not simply verbally, but in the entire meaning of how close two people are. This article appeared right after François Hollande won the Socialist Party primary here recently. It indicates, in the blown up language in the second photo, that the two rivals (he and France's President Sarkozy) are close in real life, that they are so intimate, in fact, that they use the "tu" form of "you" to addresss each other. It basically translates to "They "tu" each other in real life." There are even verbs for this - "tutoyer" and "vouvoyer."

French, gotta love it!

Happy Halloween

2011-10-31T11:37:00.003-04:00

Fais-moi peur!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, wherever you're getting your chocolates this year!

Fall Foliage

2011-10-29T14:51:00.000-04:00

"Fall Foliage" doesn't just happen in New England. Good to know, and even nicer to be able to see up close, even on another continent. And, as the East Coast of the US braces for SNOW in October, I'm quite content with a bit of rain, 60 degrees, and these fabulous trees.

One Parisian's Daily List

2011-10-28T09:24:00.000-04:00

I spotted this on the wall of a paper boutique. I don't know if it will help sales, but perhaps that's not even the point.

Wow! I can even do #11! I might have to work on a few of the others, perhaps this weekend.

Gertrude Stein Lived Here

2011-10-26T02:08:00.000-04:00

27 Rue de Fleurus, an excellent location, if I do say so myself, very close to the Luxembourg Gardens in the sixth arrondissement, is the address of the residence of Gertrude Stein in Paris for 35 years.

I had no idea, until a local from the neighborhood who's lived here for a lifetime pointed it out to me. I've been walking/running in front of that building, probably twice a day on average, for almost a month! And I never noticed.

This is the home within which she and her brother, Leo Stein, started and developed their collection of paintings of the painters of that era whom they befriended; and the address itself, which became known as "27," is renowned for the Saturday evening "salons" that were held there by the Steins.

As I previously posted, that collection is now on view at the Grand Palais in Paris, through January 16, 2012.

"I have lived half my life in Paris, not the half that made me but the half in which I made what I made."

- Gertrude Stein

What Every French Student and Teacher Has

2011-10-24T15:37:00.000-04:00

My first school day, following class, found me at Gibert Joseph on the Boulevard Saint Michel. This is where the teacher said to go to buy certain textbooks and school supplies with very particular specifications.

If you've ever walked around the Latin Quarter, you've certainly seen these storefronts with the bright blue and yellow awnings, in a row one after another on the boulevard heading south from Boulevard Saint Germain. I often wondered in passing what they were, but I never walked in. They are large, well-stocked book and school supply stores that serve the students and teachers of the many universities in the area.

It was such a kick to buy school supplies again (for myself, that is), and after doing so for my kids for so many years at Staples, I can say with confidence that this is no Staples shopping experience. There are so many different types of everything! When I was searching for a lined spiral notebook, but with perforated pages AND holes punched in a certain way in order to accommodate the teacher's requirements, I had to ask for help and was directed to exactly the available alternatives - and there were many. (Sorbonne teachers are particular, and they're not apologetic about it.)

This got me to looking at everything the store had, and to watching what the shoppers were shopping for. And that brought me to the pen/pencil cases. The full wall display always had someone - male and female - picking through them.

Interesting, I thought briefly. But then, when I attended my first phonetics class last week, the teacher walked in, placed on her desk her large bag, lifted a brightly colored pencil bag from it and plunked it down on the desk. This she did every day, and it appeared to me that she probably did this at the start of every class she's ever taught.

As I began to gather various writing instruments for the courses, in various colors (red, blue, brown) and types (highlighters, thin tip, pencil), plus an eraser (for obvious reasons), it was becoming clear to me that I needed one of these, too.

So there is, my bright red pencil case. Ah, if becoming a French speaker would only be as easy as owning a French pencil case...

Sometimes It's Allowed

2011-10-23T04:35:00.002-04:00

But mostly, it's not. Sitting on the grass, that is. And sometimes it's both at once, alternating sections of the lawn, so you must read first!

And when it is, there are charming little places like this one below from which you can purchase a bite to eat and drink. It's not a New York lunch truck, but maybe a just-made crèpe with Nutella will help to make up for that loss, because you've got to take advantage of those opportunities to sit on the grass (or one of the quite comfortable green metal chairs scattered all over) when you are permitted to do so, especially on a 64-degree Sunday in late October.

Never have I seen so many people here; I thought they must have been giving something away!

Rain rain (will NOT) go away!

2011-10-21T14:20:00.000-04:00

In the shadow of the Pantheon in Paris resides Simon. Simon Parapluies, that is, seller of fine umbrellas.

In New York, I'm usually the "$5 special" purchaser, the one who finds the umbrella street vendors who sprout up from the rain - the heavier the rain, the more vendors to be found. How long those umbrellas last is a mathematical equation I know well from years of experience; they last until the first to occur of (i) the next heavy rain/wind combo, when I'm likely going to have to plant it in a corner trash bin with its other upturned and maimed brethren, or (ii) forgetting it in the subway, bus or some other location around town.

But in New York, generally, rain can be accurately predicted and is not a daily event. Until I spent so much consistent time in Paris, I wouldn't have understood this difference in weather patterns. Here, it might rain in the morning, improve at noon, and fall apart again at dusk. Or the other way around, or any number of other combinations. And looking up at the sky is no hint. A sunny morning can lead to rain later; a very cloudy sky all day can lead to nothing but continued clouds.

After being caught twice, with nothing more than a light wool sweater and a heavy bag of books to walk home with, I happened to walk past Simon.

I was curious and wet, and so I stepped in to watch the two animated sales people behind the counter spend the longest time I've ever witnessed focused on the ins and outs, benefits and disadvantages of a given umbrella with a customer. I also saw a customer breeze in and step directly up to the gentleman of the shop to thrust at him her umbrella, which was in desperate need of repair.

Apparently, umbrella ownership is a long term investment to these people. I was hooked. I decided that what I needed was something very light and very small, so that I could sock it away in the depths of my handbag and have it with me at all times (and therefore hope to avoid eventuality number (ii) above). So, when it was my turn with the saleswoman, she presented the options within their offerings with great seriousness and flair, including the how-tos of opening and closing, having me hold the open umbrellas in front of the full-length wall mirror one at a time in order to see how they "look on me" and then, finally making a choice.

I've never spent so much time on a 30 euro purchase. I've also never before spent 30 euros on an umbrella. (Of course, one can get really hooked, as described in a recent article in the New York Times. I appreciated the sentiments expressed by the writer in his piece about the layers of experiences one can encounter when in Paris over and over again in a lifetime. I have felt that way, too. I wonder, is it Paris, or can any place have that effect?)

Later that evening, when I got caught yet again, I had the chic new umbrella with me, et voilà, the pleasure of my stroll was saved and I wasn't soaked at dinner.

Sunday in the Parks

2011-10-19T09:56:00.000-04:00

Just outside of the center of Paris...

Homework, and the double commencements two days ago of les conferences (2-hour lectures on French civilization) and phonetics classes of one hour per day have made it impossible to sit at the computer and contemplate my fabulous environment this week. I'm now fully immersed in the student life, including homework at 1am following dinners out with visiting friends.

But I did get out on Sunday, for my first organized randonée, which is basically a walk in the country that can vary in length and focus of the group (from fast nordic walking in a park, to more traditional hiking, and in my case on Sunday (about which I really hadn't read properly in the French - bien sur - description of the walk), water-coloring! No, if you're wondering, I don't watercolor, paint or do anything artistic of that sort, though I have great admiration and envy for those who do and can. So it was worthwhile on many levels, not least of which was the necessity to speak in French the entire day.

Of course, where I got to walk and what was on view throughout the day was the main event.

Bois de la Malmaison

my fellow aquarellistes

I can't paint, but I can take an impressionistic photo?

Interesting residential architecture along the way

Chateau de Malmaison

Parc des Impressionnistes

up close

The group who organized this walk is Randoneurs de l'Ile de France, which is commonly referred to as RIF (pronounced "reef"). I learned that they are the largest membership organization for randonées in the Paris region; they organize dozens per week, all over the Paris region, all of which are accessible by train from a Paris train station or métro stop. The walk I took was my free sample, and from now on, if I wish to do more, I must join (annual fees and other information appear in their website, which is also available in English). My walk was relatively small for RIF (12 of us) and of a short walking duration (about 10km, and they usually average 18-25 km) because we sat for an hour at a time, twice during the day, for the watercoloring. For me, those periods became a chance to walk alone, write and enjoy the quiet and sunshine. You bring your own lunch and beverages in your back pack. We shared the lunch hour together, sitting and chatting as the sun became warmer, while a couple of the more experienced randonneuses passed around cookies and chocolates they brought along for everyone.

It was all so genteel and of another time, for this truly jaded New Yorker. I hope I can go on another soon, before it gets too cold for wimps like me (although I have been told winter is the best time to hike - fuggedaboudit!!).

But I hear Fontainebleau is a must, so I might have to rethink my natural New Yorker reflex on that one.

A Little Taste of London

2011-10-15T17:00:00.000-04:00

St. Pancras International Station, London

What fun, and how amazing, it is to be able to travel between France and England in a little over two hours by train. On the France side of the Channel Tunnel, the announcements commence in French and are followed in English, and once on the other side, the reverse occurs. And that's how quickly the cultures change.

My eurostar train - on time!

Inside the train

I got to have a less than 24-hour jaunt to London to have dinner and see a play. What an unexpected treat, and certainly something we just don't have in a country as big as the US (New York to Wilmington, anyone?).

London had fabulous weather, too! Lucky me. So, here are a few images from my Saturday morning in London - - -

high above Marble Arch

and down below my feet (not enough time to get used to traffic direction)!

more directions

Near Buckingham Palace

Ready for anything at St. Pancras's eurostar waiting area

...missed the mushy peas. Next time?

In St. James's Park

More St. James's Park

What the tourists really come to see

My biggest issue about the ease of such travel was actually remembering that I needed to bring my passport! Yes, indeed, the customs/immigration/security process resembles that of the airport, with a bit less stress factor built in.

But there certainly would have been high stress had I forgotten the passport....

A "decent" run

2011-10-13T18:01:00.000-04:00

And that's putting it mildly. OK, it'd be a hard place to train for a marathon, going round and round and round, but if you're just running once, twice or three times around the Jardin du Luxembourg in Paris, you feel you've accomplished something, and have had some extremely beautiful and interesting things to look at as well. On a weekend, I've seen tennis, tai-chi groups, nordic walkers with their "sticks," children in their playground, lovers necking, tourists picture-taking, map-checking and sore-feet-resting, students reading, and runners running. Of course, walkers also cut through the Jardin to get from the 6th Arrondisement to the 5th quickly, and so do I.

In fact, the other day, I saw a few new things on my walk. This posted sign, for example (both in French and in English), I thought was particularly charming -

And then I walked by this (below), which somehow I'd never seen before (the Jardin is not that large, so a new find is a pretty unusual occurrence, considering I've been running around the place a few times a week these last two weeks!).

bronze model of the Statue of Liberty

sign below the statue

Well, it's always great to find something new, no matter how many times you've been somewhere and think you've seen it all.

Seen at Café de Flore

2011-10-12T03:40:00.000-04:00

I know I'm new to Paris and there's still a lot that I've not yet seen. But I could have spent years here and never seen this, so I must share. It's just simply too cute.

This little guy was in his perch on his master's motorbike parked on the sidewalk of Boulevard Saint Germain right in front of the Café de Flore (whose history is described so completely and creatively on its website). Isn't he just the épitomé of Parisian doggie style, nonchalance and je-ne-sais-quoi?

Even jaded Parisians who've seen it all were laughing and taking pictures from their own perch at the prime café tables of the Flore.

Patisserie Viennoise

2011-10-10T15:40:00.000-04:00

There is a gem on the left bank that seems to have been around forever, and its dim sparkle is known by many - students, families, tourists and old timers, alike. They come for a light lunch of salad, quiche and pasta dishes, or for a coffee or tea and Viennese pastries such as apfelstrudel, sacher torte, and linzer torte. And in the winter, they come mostly for the chocolat chaud; I'm waiting for winter to try it.

When I was there, on a wet-ish day, people were coming and going nonstop for the goodies to take away, and the tiny attached dining room, where I was installed for a while with quiche and a book, was filled with others likewise engaged. The street it is on itself is worth a walk; narrow, narrow, narrow, it has a great deal of history (and previous names) behind it. It currently manages to have a bus line run though it (so don't step off the narrow sidewalk when others walking the other way try to get past you).

daily menu

pomme et péche tarte

La Patisserie Viennoise
8 Rue de l’École de Médecine
75006 Paris

Cézanne's Big Fall Season

2011-10-09T05:17:00.000-04:00

Two important impressionist art exhibitions are opening in Paris this month, and Cezanne gets top billing in both.

Cézanne and Paris opens at the Musée du Luxembourg next week, and from the looks of the preparation outside the museum (construction of temporary shelter for those waiting to enter), it's going to be big.

And this week marked the opening of the blockbuster show at the Grand Palais of the collections of the Stein family (that of Gertrude Stein) of Matisse, Cézanne and Picasso. This show was already presented in San Francisco and, after leaving Paris, will come to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. More information here.

If a trip to Paris is in your plans, these both will be hot tickets. Best to try to get them online ahead. I'm one to talk. I've seen these posters for a week and have done nothing yet about it. But, now that I have found the websites...

Traditions Slightly Askew

2011-10-08T03:18:00.000-04:00

We all know Halloween in the U.S. I certainly don't need to explain. I won't be there this year, and I wonder what, if anything, it'll be here in Paris. However, until I saw this at the Monop grocery store today, I hadn't given Halloween a second thought, or even a first thought.

"Soup of the Month - pumpkin, red pepper and paprika"

Would anyone really be tempted to buy a black container of soup with a tombstone on it? What marketing genius thought of that? And why? And who could the target audience possibly be? Fill it with candy, take it off the top shelf of the refrigerated case, put it on the lower shelves of any aisle, and then you'd have an audience - kids (assuming they know anything about Halloween).

Inspiration

2011-10-07T03:47:00.000-04:00

Or, should I say, my thoughts exactly. It's just that I'm pretty sure I'd never have had the guts to say it in public. It just sounds so negative, down-right un-American, to speak about death in such an honest, unforgiving way. So, thank you, Steve Jobs, for saying something so raw, and so true, that may only be comprehended by those who have lost a loved one or experienced an event that challenged mortality and survived, to live another day.

Almost everything–all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure–these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.” – Steve Jobs’ Stanford Commencement Address

There are many ways to live a life, many paths and turns of the corner. Some of the most satisfying come from taking the unanticipated twists and turns. Others, the very well-planned and eagerly anticipated. But, in either case, living one's own life and not that of someone else, as Jobs also spoke of in that same commencement address, is most satisfying, as I am finding out in each of these surprising moments I am lucky enough to be experiencing right now in Paris.

Election Coverage

2011-10-06T09:36:00.000-04:00

With the French Socialist primary coming up this weekend, and the third of their debates just held last night (not to mention all their related political scandals and the European Union's many troubles), this front page headline and photo, garnering the above-the-fold location, caused me to do a double-take at the grocery store yesterday.

"The Republicans search for an identity."

By contrast, I wonder how much coverage our newspapers are giving to the French elections right now. Or perhaps it's just that looking across the ocean at our political issues is a needed respite from France's own.

A Pretty Good Idea

2011-10-05T17:20:00.000-04:00

I'd heard and read that the doggie poopy problem in Paris is so much worse than in New York or elsewhere in an urban American city. Thus far, I haven't found that to be the case. In fact, I've seen far fewer dogs walking about than I do in New York (or maybe it's that Parisian dogs are smaller than the really large dogs living in New York apartments these days).

Even so, the Luxembourg Gardens suggest that you don't even have to bring your own baggies when you walk the dog there. Along with the baggies that dispense from the bottom of the kiosk, they provide directions by photo, just in case you're not sure of the most hygenic method with which to handle this messy matter.

A Night at l'Opéra

2011-10-03T17:56:00.000-04:00

I took the tour many years ago but I never actually sat in a box and watched a performance. I did tonight. It was a feast for the eyes. In every direction, gold, sculpture, chandeliers and, oh yeah, that Chagall on the ceiling! And that's just the performance hall. The preliminaries are also every bit the worthy appetizer before the main course. I had to stop every few feet because I kept looking up and around and otherwise would have likely fallen down one of the dramatic staircases.

There was champagne for sale before and during the fairly long intermission, which was long enough to even step out on the front balcony terrace and watch Paris unfolding before you - cars circling the building, symmetrical buildings all around, and people sitting on the steps below. It felt very special to be inside the theater for a performance, just imagining all the history (and all the gorgeous gowns and tuxedos) that must have gone before. There were definitely no gowns and tuxedos in 2011 tonight, but most appeared to have polished up a bit for the occasion.

The occasion was the Paris Opera Ballet, one of the best ballet companies in the world. Tonight was a performance of two ballets, the second being a new ballet by Alexei Ratmansky, who is currently Artist in Residence at American Ballet Theatre. Because I have seen some of his beautiful choreography there, I was very interested to see more.

I bought my ticket online through the Paris Opera Ballet's web site just a few days ago. It was very easy. It doesn't let you select your exact seat but you can pick the general price location. Picking up the ticket was confusing. I followed the signs to what I think is the box office, in the back of the building. But they sent me back around to the front of the building, where I eventually figured out that I had to wait in a line for a will-call desk just inside the front doors. The line moved quickly, especially since ticket-holders mistakenly placed themselves in the same line. You are given an order number during the online purchase. It's important to bring that with you to pick up the tickets.

I really lucked out, too, in my seat location - just off the center, first row in a box which had a door that had to be unlocked by an attendant. How elegant, and how perfect for my very first evening at l'Opéra.

Windows Open

2011-10-02T06:24:00.000-04:00

With the good weather in Paris come the open windows. They open wide and all day long, it seems. What a contrast to the United States, where air conditioning rules. It's a beautiful and charming sight, and a great way to get a peep inside. I heard that summer here didn't live up to its name, and so I imagine residents are taking every advantage to let in all the fresh air, light and warm breeze they can before the return of the "normal" weather later this week.

Livin' the Life

2011-09-30T17:20:00.000-04:00

It's a kick and also an energy sapper. I'm talking about every single daily thing that is encountered. I do love it, though. Each experience is a lesson in language and culture, and I also enjoy the dual challenges of accomplishing the bureaucratic intricacies to success and doing so in French. If I wasn't going to love it, then why do this at my age? For example, trying to buy shoe inserts to cover the areas of the shoe that are causing blisters was an interesting exercise in pantomime. Buying laundry detergent, trash can liners, and most toiletries required more specific vocabulary than I have, so smiling, pointing and using really long explanatory phrases (which is my nature as a lawyer anyway) really went a long way. I'm quite proud of the end results.

Living the reality of Paris residency in the first few days is like moving into a new apartment anywhere in the western world. I have visited the neighborhood hardware store, the neighborhood grocery stores and the neighborhood drugstores three times each already. And let's not forget the cellphone store. I have visited no museums. This is the major difference from every single one of my many prior visits to Paris. And that's just fine.

However, dealing with a seriously leaking valve on the toilet in my apartment and ensuing flood of the bathroom floor all night last night wasn't quite the "reality of living in Paris" that I had in mind for my fourth night here. Ugh, getting up every couple of hours to bail out a full bucket of leaked water wasn't helping the jet lag recovery.

But, last night was last night. And today, I got to stand in line for an hour and a half to get a Navigo card for the métro. Will I need it? I'm not at all sure. Could I have just gotten individual tickets or a Navigo Découverte card for tourists? Yes, I suppose so. But, all this is part of the immersion. I'm stubborn that way. Anyway, during that time spent in line, watching probably thousands of travelers with luggage pass by me at Gare Montparnasse (or pass through me - I noticed that personal space wasn't respected much around there) on a Friday afternoon, I got to imagine where they were headed - a country house, the suburbs, another country? All by train! So exciting (yes, I still suffer from extreme naiveté and excitement over the most minor things). When it was my turn, I was over-ready, with passport, apartment lease and student ID card. I've found that being over-ready is what works. Being under-prepared and you lose in this game.

I am very excited about my Navigo card!

To which I can now add a Vélib subscription! At least that's done online, until I have to activate it (en français, bien sûr) at a Vélib kiosk when I'm ready to take my first ride in Paris traffic. And like the Paris American (or American Parisienne) that I am, I'll be the one wearing a bicycle helmet.

L'été Indien

2011-09-29T11:17:00.002-04:00

These days already don't seem real. Jet-lagged days and nights can feel dream-like, in that perpetually groggy way they often do (for me, anyway). But, when you add weather that has never been more perfect in all the time I have ever spent in Paris, I just keep blinking and then stepping out again, each morning, each afternoon, each evening, and (being the cynical New Yorker that I am) shaking my head in disbelief and saying to myself, "This has GOT to end soon. " Even the Paris newspapers are making note of it in headlines declaring "L'été indien."

On the other, it really does need to (end soon, that is) because I didn't pack summer clothes. That seems to not be a problem if you're not inclined to care about comfort, because many women here apparently always (or already, I'm not sure which) dress for cold weather - multiple layers, scarves, even boots! But there are also those who wear a pair of sandals every chance they get. And the Texan in me really wants to, but my très petit closet has no sandals; nor do les magasins.

No matter, I am fully convinced that once the jet lag completely wears off, so will the utterly incroyable weather.

PS - I'll quit with the scenic (oh-let's-make-them-jealous) views. I just couldn't help myself; this dream, I want to remember for as long as possible.

What France is Known For

2011-09-28T17:49:00.002-04:00

Strikes and protest marches. And Paris had a big one the other day, on just my second day here. Lucky me! I bought a salad and baguette at a take-away place, pulled up a park bench and just watched the passing scene. It appeared to be more block party than protest by the looks of the families and chatty friends and stereophonic live and canned rock music - even in English - blasted from vans in the parade as they wound their way up the Boulevard Raspail. It went on like this for hours. It was a beautiful day, and the kids weren't in school (see below), so why rush? This was apparently a big deal, protesting against changes in schools and teachers, and even private schools (unaffected by the changes) joined in their support.

This meant children were not in school (either in support, or because teachers weren't working). At the park bench, I was surrounded by Parisian high school girls who just wanted to talk to me about Katy Perry and Rihana. My being American didn't help me or them much in that discussion. Who? (especially when they pronounced Katy "Kah-tee") But, I could name Lady Gaga, and that got me back some street cred.

Clearly I'm doing my country proud over here.

Student!

2011-09-26T16:14:00.001-04:00

I'm exhausted after a full day of flying overseas, moving into an apartment, unpacking, dealing with the odds and ends, and registering for my course in PARIS! But, even with exhaustion, I cannot hide my enthusiasm and my pleasure with everything that combined to make all this happen. I am going to become a student again after 30 years!

In fact, I now am the proud owner of a Student ID (ok, so this student photo has gray hair, but also a huge smile, even with the jetlag).

And check out the view I get to walk through each day (as the seasons change) to and from my classes.

Although it looks like fall, sooner here than in New York judging by the color of the leaves and shortness of the daylight hours, it was over 75 degrees and sunny today and is predicted to stay that way through the week. What a welcome! Late season sun worshipers abounded (note the apropos palm trees).

That's the same park, by the way, as the first photo, just a few dozen steps apart.

I also noticed this tree trimmer (he probably has a better-sounding title), and realized that these shapes do not happen by magic. They are the result of hard work, sometimes in the heat. It was a timely reminder that my time in Paris to learn French will also not be something that happens by magic (it certainly hasn't been thus far). I, too, plan to be working very hard (perhaps even harder than those, ahem, student sunbathers).

Hello, gorgeous!

What I Will Miss

2011-09-25T13:45:00.000-04:00

I'm already feeling those pangs of missing certain things I love about New York. I realize I'm not moving away for good, but in my 30 years of residence, I've rarely been away from "the City" for more than 2 weeks!

Here are a few things I already know I'll miss---

1. The Manhattan skyline while riding over the Triboro Bridge after a return flight to Laguardia, at any and every time of day, and that feeling of "being home."

2. Zabar's and Fairway.

3. The Central Park Reservoir and Tennis Courts.

4. Pier 1 on the Hudson River at summer sunset.

5. Being able to give tourists accurate directions.

6. 2,000 square feet.

7. New York in a blizzard.

8. A less than $150 flight from Chicago to see my college students.

9. The price of things in US dollars.

10. Joe Coffee.

11. Iconic Soho architecture.

12. Walking through the city for hours and always finding something new.

Sometimes, though, as the saying goes, it makes your heart grow fonder. And I can honestly say that's already starting to happen. What an odd and also wonderful feeling of love and appreciation I have for all that is New York, for all that New York has given me over almost all of my adult life, and for the warmth I'll carry with me to Paris, knowing home is always here waiting for me.

I took a lot of math, but...

2011-09-24T08:32:00.000-04:00

... never have I seen such an equation! It was great fun to watch these two guys (right arm of the other painter - resting or bored, presumably - is at lower left) hand-painting this billboard, slowly and in real time, over a parking lot at the corner of Crosby and Broome in Soho.

It's not so common to see billboard painters these days, especially in a get-up like that one - suspenders and hat!

And it's not just an ad using the idea of a complex mathematical equation, as I thought when I watched it being written up there. It's in fact an actual formula with a "solution." See this link for a better look at the problem, the solutions to the various component parts and the overall solution itself. Very clever. I love the idea of using math and historical events like that to scratch the brain.

Another "Ah, New York!" moment.

Radio Classique

2011-09-23T08:06:00.000-04:00

I wrote about my favorite French language learning apps and podcasts in the past, and now need to add a new one! (It's always fun to find something new to mix it up.) Radio Classique is a French classical radio station. I've been listening for about a week now, and the music is lovely. There's a lot of solo piano, symphonic selections, most of which are familiar and many of which are French in origin, and a small bit of opera. In between are a few, but not too many, ads in French for classical music concerts and events in Paris.

And every time you open the app, a deep baritone voice announces "Radio Classique." How do they do that? It did surprise me the first few times; I'm a slow learner.

The app is free and can be found in iTunes.

I (bike) New York

2011-09-21T11:46:00.000-04:00

(this is not my bike, by the way)

I'd like to have ridden more this summer, but for many reasons, it didn't happen much. C'est dommage. Much of my reasoning is fear. I just don't feel so comfortable on New York City streets as a commuter by bike.

But I've noticed a couple of further improvements to the biking culture of the city that should, more quickly, develop a greater population of cycling commuters and, hence, more awareness, safety and comfort (at least that's my hope).

First, the proliferation of the new bike stands along our sidewalks: I can't see how more than two bikes can reside tethered to that short pole, but it's better than what's been there in the past, which is nothing. In its absence, there was the creative method of bike-locking, which left bikes attached to street violation poles, construction scaffolding, fences, trees, etc. Not always so easy, and usually someone else has had the idea before you. These new additions are going to validate cycling culture just that much more, in my opinion, and will add a few more locking locations to each block.

Second, and more importantly, is finally the announcement that New York City is going to have a true bike-sharing program. A pilot program had quietly (all but hidden, in fact) been announced earlier this year to commence during the summer of 2011, but that never happened. This announcement was far splashier, and so we can assume that next summer, we'll have it in place. How it will be received is anyone's guess, but I'm going to stick with optimism, at least until the program starts or the critics get louder than the cyclists, whichever comes first.

I'm appalled at the issues some people have with bike lanes, bike sharing programs and new bike racks along the sidewalks. The general complaint is that we need all that space for either cars or pedestrians. I can't believe the short-sightedness of such a viewpoint. I am grateful for the combination of pushiness and far-sightedness of this mayoral administration which is looking to New York's future with these programs. And I continue to look forward to venturing out, gingerly, into that future, with my bike, helmet and lock.

Hyde Park Eats

2011-09-20T14:12:00.000-04:00

Downtown Chicago, after morning rain, as seen from Hyde Park

I've visited a number of times now, over the last 3 years, and have never been quite satisfied with the choices of cuisine in Hyde Park, but I think that was because I wasn't really trying very hard. Usually the big effort would be a steak dinner at Gibsons Steakhouse north of the Loop. All else was just a quick grab, never aiming very high for a memorable meal, when the student in question was still on the college meal plan.

This time, I've been staying somewhat on my own in a Hyde Park apartment rather than downtown, and I've found that dining out, especially (well, actually, exclusively) along East 53rd Street, has been a treat.

For breakfast and an excellent latte, whether you want to relax and are lucky enough to snare one of the cush armchairs, or prefer to sit at the small wooden tables, with lots of light from the corner location's windows, and power strips throughout the café, there's Third World Café.

If a burger is craved, there's Five Guys. What a funny scene that place is. Just go; you'll see what I mean. But if you want anything besides a hamburger and/or really good fries, go somewhere else. That means - no chicken or turkey burger, and a "vegetable" burger that is actually made up of all the other ingredients on a bun that can be added to a hamburger, but containing no meat. Just picture it - ketchup, onions, pickles, tomato, lettuce. I didn't.

For sushi and/or a large salad (and a number of other items that also looked great), I was quite impressed with The Sit Down. Thanks, Allison, for that recommendation.

East 53rd is quite an interesting street, parts definitely gentrified, others untouched for years. Personally, I love the Blagojevich poster in one of the store windows, which still resides there directly underneath an Obama poster.

But there was one combination of storefronts I just couldn't help thinking was probably a bad idea. Maybe no one else has noticed?

The South Side is nothing if not eclectic.

A New Day

2011-09-17T12:53:00.000-04:00

Just another sunrise outside my window this morning. But it's a very different day. When the youngest child in the family leaves for college, and the nest is about to become empty (yes, I know they come back, thank goodness), everything looks different.

And today is that day. Onward, to Chicago we go...

These Boots...

2011-09-15T15:01:00.001-04:00

...were made for walkin' (channeling Nancy Sinatra there; if you don't know what I'm talking about it, you might be too young to read this blog. Just kidding. If you're reading this blog, please don't stop now.) God bless these boots, for they got me through up to 10 miles a day of walking over and through bogs, the Burren, mountain passes, fields of high grass and/or rain, and estuaries at low tide, with nary a blister, sore ankle or soaked sock.

Ireland is as green, lovely, rainy and windy as they say (note the photo of the sexy, form-fitting, waterproof rain pants that go "swoosh, swoosh, swoosh" as I walked, creating my own sound system; those pants never came off all week!). But hiking in Ireland is worth the effort and energy (and sound effects).

And Dublin? It was full of charm, students, Trinity College, pubs, the Abbey Theatre, Temple Bar, Merrion Square, St. Stephen's Green, history, poetry, architecture, music and the nicest people I've ever encountered in a big city.

Here are some of my hike's views (and some new friends I made) along the way.

Note the gray skies (and that was when it was clear enough that I could pull the camera out of its Ziploc baggie). I will admit that I knew very little about Ireland before this trip. This was the best way I can imagine to have gotten the education I just received. That, and the fish and chips.

- and the book "How the Irish Saved Civilization," by Thomas Cahill, which I was reading throughout the trip when I wasn't sitting in a hot bath. (However, on the flight back, I got totally sucked into the six-hour HBO noir melodrama "Mildred Pierce," and the flight ended a half hour before the end of the movie - argh! I had to Google search the rest of it - not quite the same thing, if you know what I mean, especially since most of the movie is so unbelievable anyway.) But, back to Ireland...

It does seem that, even before this - my first ever hiking vacation - a few others have felt this way, about Ireland and about hiking.

Ten Years Ago

2011-09-13T07:01:00.000-04:00

I didn't know whether I would write or not write about that day in New York ten years ago, and the days that followed. It seems that everything that could be said has been said, that everything that could be felt has been felt, and that some extraordinarily unimaginable things have somehow been imagined and realized.

But I was here, living in the same home, raising the same sons. Everyone was younger, and we were smack in the middle of young family life. It's impossible not to make the mental contrasts between those days and these, on a personal, emotional, political and global level. As I said, though, many others have, many who are paid well to do so and, hence, do so much better than I ever could. So I will stick to the personal.

What I noticed most on the 11th, on this tenth anniversary, was how seared into all my sensory memories those days are. I can still smell the acrid smell that shifted to the north (toward my neighborhood) the next day after the first black smoke clouds initially blanketed Brooklyn to the east. I can still hear the sirens that flew past, heading down Broadway, first growing louder, then dissipating in the downtown direction. I also hear the roaring Air Force jets, and recall the visceral reactions and looks on others' faces in the streets and parks as we would experience them at the same moment and glance at one another in recognition and total ignorance. I remember seeing everywhere the homemade posters and fliers tacked up on walls, fences and lamp posts, fluttering gently in late summer weather perfection...and the first big rain a couple of nights after, when I sat in bed believing that God must be crying over the failures of his final creation, man. And then I cried, too. I remember, too, the initial feelings of survival that kicked in, that I'd never felt before, that were driven by something deep inside - the need to buy food and water, just because we "live on an island," the need to make my way uptown to my sons' school, just because we need to be together.

Most vivid and most painful, however, is when I told my children what had just happened when I picked them up early from elementary school and walked them home, shortly after the first tower collapsed. (And in this, I am no different than probably ever other parent who experienced that day similarly, no matter where they lived.) I knew that this event was going to change their young lives and become as indelible to them as the day Kennedy was assassinated was to me when I was seven years old. I took their hands and said, "You're going to remember this day for the rest of your life" before trying to simply, honestly and yet not too fearfully, explain in a few words what was happening, while I understood so little myself.

And yet, ten years later, we were on a transatlantic flight returning to New York from a family vacation. No words were expressed, officially or otherwise, on the flight. But we all knew. I could tell when I would look into someone's eyes. Awareness, gratitude, and perhaps a little fear. Or maybe that was just me. But, from airplane to a very busy JFK airport on a Sunday afternoon, to a full subway train back into Manhattan, all was quiet and purposeful. We all went where we needed to be, and we all lived our moments, but I know we remembered and carried that with us, with all else that we carry now, ten years later.

A Bit More Paris in New York

2011-09-01T14:55:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure we need more macaron shops in New York; that trend has come and, well, not exactly "gone," but it's not the new new thing it once was. Everyone who made cupcakes seemed to move into macarons and now maybe is going back to cupcakes (or bringing them to Paris). It's all getting so confusing!

But I guess we can always handle a bit more Paris in New York, especially on Madison Avenue (at 71st Street), already the second home for more Parisian designer houses than I care to count. Ladurée, the self-proclaimed creator of the macaron, is now here, and from the line inside the shop this morning, there's no doubt that there's room for at least one more macaron shop in this town.

Paris vs. New York

2011-08-31T17:38:00.000-04:00

Since I began writing this blog, I have followed a few others. The ones I read often are listed on my profile page. A new one called Paris Versus New York, a tally of two cities came to my attention today (thank you, God, I Love Paris).

It's obvious what's going on here. The graphics are clever, as are the concepts and cultural difference that are being visually compared.

It's just a bit of fun, for a lover of both cities. In this contest, there are no losers, only two winners, though what would we do if we couldn't compare and contrast, brag and whine?

Not My Style

2011-08-29T17:17:00.000-04:00

We haven't talked much about my style in clothes. Well, why would we? No one cares about that but me. And that's as it should be. We each have our own style, or as spoken by Terrance McNally's imagined Maria Callas in "Master Class," which I recently saw on Broadway and loved, "Get yourself a LOOK!"

My "look" isn't this.

However, on Friday, a workday, a day-before-all-mass-transit-was-shut-down-for-an-epic-hurricane day, I walked all over the Upper East Side (its trottoirs more accustomed to the click-clack of Manolos and Louboutins), wearing these land boats (as a friend likes to refer to his hiking boots) to break them in. I'm planning to head to Ireland for some hiking (also not typically my style, but we should all be open to change, I'm telling myself a lot these days), and I didn't want to face blisters over there wearing brand new shoes.

But, geez, I hope I don't see anyone I know.

Irene, and post-Irene

2011-08-28T19:26:00.000-04:00

Others will say more, and better, about Hurricane Irene and its impact. I can only speak to my little world of the Upper West Side of Manhattan, especially since the subways have been shut down since yesterday and are likely to stay that way for at least another 24 hours. Perhaps if the winds that are still whipping die down by tomorrow, I will do my moving about as a bike commuter to travel to other parts of town.

But, first yesterday. Much was closed, including Joe, my regular coffee source on Columbus. It seemed a good time to try MUD, which opened up right across the street from Joe, and perhaps would have been a Caffeinated Weekends post, which I am behind on. It was not to be. I got in this line, and then a sweet smiling young lady informed me that they were going to close and that the man in front of me was going to be the final customer. Who can argue with hurricane-panic logic?

So I took a walk over to Riverside Park to see how the Hudson River was doing. I did a double-take to see a cruise ship pulling out of its midtown pier to start an Atlantic Ocean cruise. Wait, what?!? My stomach was churning at the thought of being on that ship, tossing my way into the hurricane. Wonder how that worked out.

After that, one more trip to the supermarket somehow seemed in order, heeding all media advice and marching in the steps of the other Manhattan lemmings. I found that the beer aisle had been hit hard.

So, too, the meat case.

However, herring was plentiful. (I'm surprised Bloomberg didn't remind us all to stock up on pickled fish, too.)

On the way home, I noticed a number of picture-takers in front of Town Shop. Again, I wondered? I'd already gotten my photo op yesterday, I thought. But, no! A new sign had been added, echoing the sentiment most Manhattan residents wish their neighborhood cafés, restaurants and bars had also felt.

Because, man, were we bored yesterday, just wandering up and down Broadway with that glazed look in our eyes. What would be next? Were we really ready? Or was this just busy work for the main event over which we knew we had absolutely no control?

Today, after Irene passed through us, there was more walking, and again, today I was back at Riverside Park, to see what nature can do, as a result of my first hurricane in New York City. Here is a bit of what I saw:

A watery visitor far from home

A youthful, yet succinct, viewpoint shared by most

Hudson River with actual waves

Dramatic tree damage

Those in other parts of New York City and within the rest of the path of Irene did not fare as well as we did here on the Upper West Side. And, even so, it was a scary night, filled with pounding rain, loud winds and frightening televised warnings. I'm grateful for the relative calm of a more typical Sunday evening.

Quelle experience!

Emergency Preparedness - part 1

2011-08-27T08:31:00.000-04:00

Sign on door of lingerie boutique, Town Shop, Upper West Side

New Yorkers don't scare easy. We're cynical, we believe very little we see, hear and read, and particularly so from the media, here in the media capital of the United States (I guess we realize how much spin is in the recipe, because we're the ones baking it.) So, I wondered how we'd be responding to the warnings, the evacuation mandates, and the heeding of the shop-till-we-can't-lift-another-Poland-Spring-bottle directions.

As usual with us New Yorkers, I saw it all yesterday. The subways were busy, the sidewalk cafés were full and the grocery stores were emptying out in an orderly, almost party-like fashion. (I laughed as one young man walked by with his arms full of large tubs of Ben & Jerry's, and he responded with a knowing smirk - that he was indeed going to have to eat quickly if the power goes out.) The biggest surprise was the overflowing nail salons - did I miss the memo requiring picture-perfect finger and toe nails during a hurricane, or are a lot of women just preparing for some overnight dates necessitated by a closed subway system? (Remember the Blackout Baby Boom of 1965? No? Well, I wasn't here then either, but it's urban legend in NYC, and perhaps there's a Hurricane Baby Boom to come.)

Water bottles on the N train

At Fairway last evening, doing a little unofficial visual surveying, it seemed that the barest shelves and those garnering the closest attention were the water and bread shelves (depleted by 10pm) and the snack aisles. Today I'll see how the liquor stores are doing.

Of all the preparedness lists I received from helpful friends, the most interesting item was coffee - make pots of coffee, I was told, to avoid the grumpies in case the electricity goes out. Oh dear, I received an email from Joe Coffee that their store near me would be closed both today and tomorrow - a weekend without Joe OR the subway. Unthinkable.

Boulud Corner

2011-08-25T08:50:00.001-04:00

That would now be the southeast corner of West 64th Street and Broadway. Épicerie Boulud opened on that corner at 1900 Broadway, across the street from Lincoln Center, this spring, and it's a great addition to the pre-theater dinner scene. More importantly, it's the best alternative yet to the grab-a-quick-sandwich-before-theater-or-film near Lincoln Center.

This is one of prolific chef Daniel Boulud's recent openings on that block. It is adjacent to Bar Boulud, the Lincoln Tunnel shaped tube of a dining room that has been a beautiful and civilized restaurant spot for a few years now and is one of my favorites for dinner before Lincoln Center. And it's also next door to Boulud's newest and fabulously reviewed restaurant, Boulud Sud, which I have not yet had the opportunity to try. But, all in the name of research, of course, I'll be making an effort...

One sunny and temperate summer evening a few weeks ago, before a film at Lincoln Plaza, I arrived early and hungry (this is often the case; luckily, New York is so easy for curing that situation, in just the right form and price range). It was my first glimpse of the épicerie, its glass front completely open to the sidewalk, where sit-down tables and standing bar tables had been placed outside to permit the take-out process to end about five steps from the wine-by-the-glass bar, oyster bar, charcuterie, fromagerie, patisserie, and fresh sandwich and salad display cases.

And so, one purchase of a glass of rosé and a lobster roll later, I was contently seated at a table right on Broadway, watching the passing scene and listening to my three bling-laden table mates discuss their recent "holiday" in England and the financial troubles in Europe. (It was all a bit incongruous, but that's New York!)

I even had time after my impromptu sidewalk picnic to wander over to check out the music that was wafting over from Lincoln Center Out of Doors.

Earthquake, Bread and Clouds

2011-08-23T17:33:00.000-04:00

Back in New York City after a week of sitting, low to the ground much of the time, and not much moving, the outside heat of Dallas just dragging me down even further. In reality, though, it was a time of love, of family, of support, of memory and of pride. Loss of a parent. Words don't come to me yet to write much about that now, and so I won't, yet.

But I needed to move today, in a big way. So, I walked, probably 3 hours of walking all over town. Apparently, I walked right through the East Coast Earthquake. It's so strange to start to realize something is going on around you as you try to figure it all out from the signals you try to pick up with all the senses. The first thing was all the people - why were there so many people huddled together just outside office buildings, not just one, but many? Why are all those people staring into their cellphones? And then the stray word pops by: "feel it?" "earthquake" "Virginia."

New Yorkers appreciate something novel for about 10 minutes. Then, it's back to the same old, same old. I kept walking. I got hungry. I was on Ninth Avenue, which is such fun all the way up from the 30s through the 50s for its array of food stores and restaurants of every cuisine. Amy's Bread caught my eye.

It was tough to choose just one. And many other earthquake walkers must have felt the same way, as there was a wait.

But it was a beautiful day, with blue skies and white puffy clouds and 77 degrees. We don't usually have much sky to enjoy here in NYC, because of all our big buildings blocking it. Today, however, I made a point of looking up, a lot, drawn to the stark contrast of the crisp white and the bright blue.

Besides, the sky is sometimes a great place to look to find your memories and the kindest thoughts of those you love.

Summer Packing

2011-08-15T17:53:00.000-04:00

All my luggage for 10 days in China in July

I will stop talking about China, but I want to say a few words about packing. Obviously, everyone has their own needs for what's to be packed away and schlepped along on a trip. And every trip is different as well, as is the weather, which matters tremendously as to how much bulk is going to come along.

That said and admitted, I have developed a few tactics (it seems everyone has, but I find I pick up a few good tips every time I read what works for a fellow grown-up - not just a shorts, jeans and backpack - female traveler).

This trip was going to be in hot weather, but might also be rainy from time to time and I'd be outdoors a lot (as is often the case when traveling). I'd need to dress up a bit at least twice, for theater and party-type events. I'd possibly go to a beach or country-side for hiking/walking, or both. And I'd have a bunch of days of sight-seeing in the city. I always bring running clothes with me wherever I go. And, last but not least, I have no upper-body strength and yet must be prepared to bounce and drag my luggage down and up subway and/or train station stairs at either end of the flights.

With those qualifiers (which may or may not apply to anyone else!), this is what I came up with:

- short nylon casual rain jacket

- running outfit (shorts, bra, top, two pair socks, shoes, baseball cap, cotton undies)

- wide-brim squashable summer hat

- 1 cotton skirt/1 linen skirt

- 4 t-shirts (2 tank/2 short-sleeve)

- light sweater (I should have left this home; never wore it)

- light jean jacket (only worn on freezing plane, with capri-length jeans, t-shirt, scarf and sneakers)

- 1 pair nice slacks and woven linen sleeveless top

- underwear/bras selected to work with each item, and then I packed half of them

- toiletries (wet in the regulation-size baggie/dry in a similar-size clear plastic zip pouch)

- two dresses (one silk, one cotton jersey)

- two pairs well-worn flats (red, tan)

- swimsuit

- white gauze button-down shirt to wear over swimsuit, or over other things for light warmth or sun protection

- two tan shorts (one knee-length for city/one shorter)

- ipad/keyboard/ipod/charger and cords

- neck pillow/Bose noise-canceling headphones

- very little makeup/no jewelry except what I wore on the flight

- two books (Tina Fey's "Bossypants" was devoured on the outbound flight)

- a Longchamps foldable small backpack/handbag

- and, most importantly, passport and currency

The bottom line at the end of all this packing was - tada! - there was loads of room left in the bags. Worrier that I am, I couldn't just accept my good luck. Rather, I spent way too much time wondering what I must have forgotten! In the end, however, I had just the right amount. It was lovely to travel without so much choice and with it being so quick and easy to repack when necessary.

There are three caveats, though, to make this happen:

1. I had to do a little hotel sink hand-wash every few days, using the hotel shampoo for the suds. Everything I packed could be hand-washed like this other than the dresses, skirts and nice slacks. And it was necessary because it was hot and muggy and certain items were just not going to be wearable a second time otherwise. (In winter, of course, one can pack a bit less and also wash a bit less.)

2. Rolling up clothes for packing. This is the most fantastic invention ever (which apparently I discovered late in life). I can find everything so much more easily when it's in little rolled up units, and every nook and cranny of the suitcase can be used. It's fantastic (yes, I know my enthusiasm is a bit over the top on this point, but it really works and anything that leaves me more room to pack my souvenirs is something to get excited about).

3. Making sure most everything can be worn with most everything else. That means colors, or lack thereof. For this trip, I had some red accents (flats and scarf), but everything else was either white, gray, navy or tan. I tried to avoid black because of the heat of summer; in winter, I would have brought less white and tan and more black and gray.

If this isn't helpful to anyone else, at least it's going to remind me what to pack for the next trip - that just happens to have exactly the same type of climate for the same type of experiences. Oh well, we must be adaptable, and I think this wardrobe adapted quite well. It's a bit bare-bones and not accessorized at all. But I reminded myself there would be time for accessories at home, which would happen soon enough. And that was enough to keep me content with my light-weight travel companions.

Last Word on China (this time around)

2011-08-14T09:55:00.000-04:00

Now just about a week since I've been home, and still battling a bad case of jet lag, my son found me sprawled out, face down, on my bed yesterday afternoon and shared the comment, "nice look, Mom" as he blew past. That pretty much sums up how I've been doing most afternoons. Nonetheless, no regrets. Travel is amazing, and as long as I can do it, I'm doing it.

As for that last word on China (this time around), it's hard to stop talking about it; I have many more indelible impressions to write about, but I'm back home now - late summer in New York, one of my favorite times of year here, quiet with the exodus of my fellow New Yorkers, the slower, steamy pace of life, and the joy, wonder and confusion at times visible on the faces of international visitors in all pockets of the city.

The sign above at the Summer Palace in Beijing says a whole lot more (to me, anyway) than it intends.

Ça suffit.

China Charm

2011-08-13T00:21:00.001-04:00

More than anywhere I've traveled, in China I can't take my eyes off the people. I'm sure it's primarily because I keep wanting to figure it all out, what makes this society and its communities tick, how they really live in this jumbled up environment of old/new, rich/poor, etc., as I described in an earlier post.

The mix among generations is also appealing because, unlike in the US where we customarily are out only with our peers, I very often saw young and old together in Beijing. For example, the large Chinese restaurants with the family-size round tables for ten with the "lazy susans" in the center of the table spinning with numerous dishes are a common occurrence. All generations often dine together, noisy, deep in conversation, and small children sit quietly or move from parent to grandparent to cousin, food being the glue holding it all together but definitely not the center of attention or the main attraction. Reverence is not paid to the food (as in France, for example) but rather to the people gathered together to share the meal. All chopsticks dip into all the bowls and plates that pass by, so that even the plate itself is communal and shared.

I enjoyed watching this aspect of Chinese culture. The family unit appears to be very important. In fact, what do the Chinese do on major holidays? They don't run off to a resort for "holiday," even if they can afford to do so. Rather, they get on every available train, plane and bus until overflowing, and they go "home." Paying tribute to dead ancestors is also an important ideal and there's a holiday for that, too.

There are certainly a number of aspects to contemporary Chinese culture that are hard for this Westerner to understand and hard to accept as representing the highest standard of humanity, but one can also say the same, to a certain extent, about most countries. Love and respect for family (and children) appears to be one of the highest priorities, though, from what I perceived, and I had a super time trying to capture some images on my camera.

Quotable Coco

2011-08-11T00:26:00.000-04:00

On the plane from Beijing to Newark, I got my tiny dose of France and French for the week in the form of the film "Coco Before Chanel," a French film released in 2009 that I somehow missed.

It made for the most pleasant two of the thirteen and a half hours of the flight. (I watched another movie later in the flight, but by then I had lost too many brain cells to altitude boredom and, for the sake of my educated adult respectability, I shall not repeat the name of the insipid rom-com fluff that at least helped keep me - for another two hours - from looking up every few minutes at that nasty bright blue monitor on the bulkhead telling me how high we were flying, how inhumanly cold it was beyond the confines of our large flying metal tube and how many more hours we'd (hopefully) continue to do the same. Can you tell that I'm not a big lover of flying?)

So, thank you for in-flight entertainment, Continental Airlines.

More than midway through the film, the wealthy man who has taken Coco into his home remarks off-handedly, upon seeing her shorn of her formerly waist-length raven hair, "A woman who cuts her hair, is about to change her life." From her look in response, we in the audience know that she knows this to be true, too, but how will that change take shape? Perhaps she knows, perhaps not. Either way, it was a moment that made me smile, as a fellow recently "shorn" woman with changes taking shape in her life.

That quote from the film reminded me that Coco Chanel was responsible for some pretty good quips during her life. Here are a few I particularly like:

"A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous."

"In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different."

"Don't spend time beating on a wall, hoping to transform it into a door. "

"How many cares one loses when one decides not to be something but to be someone."

"Elegance is not the prerogative of those who have just escaped from adolescence, but of those who have already taken possession of their future."

"To achieve great things, we must first dream."

Ah, to dream, to be classy, to be fabulous (whatever that means!), to be different, to stop beating on walls, to deserve to be elegant, and to decide to be someone. Such pressure! Great quotes, but maybe a bit unattainable? Perhaps I'll just try to live by this much-easier-to-achieve quote by Coco Chanel:

"A woman should wear perfume wherever she wants to be kissed."

That I can handle.

Global Consumers Above All

2011-08-09T19:52:00.001-04:00

Among the many signs I photographed in China last week (especially those that don't quite master the use and meaning of English words and phrases), this one, though using no English, spoke volumes to me.

This outdoor wall poster in Beijing clearly advertises Pepsi. Yup, I'm sure that's what the Chinese characters spell out (not really), but we Americans all know the Pepsi logo. But I was surprised to see one of the largest US brands using the Chinese revolutionary poses so iconic in their propaganda materials of that era. Well, whatever sells, I suppose. And I learned, while in Beijing, that there is much nostalgia for that period. I cannot fathom that, given all that transpired in those years. But, then again, we love the old movies, songs and fashion styles of the 1940s, '50s, '60s, '70s and apparently even '80s (big hair and shoulder pads?!?), even though we surely don't want to relive those years for a whole lot of other reasons.

So that's China.

Today, though, back in New York, what do I see in Times Square?

As of August 1, 2011, China's government-run news agency, Xinhua, has one of the key LED billboards in Times Square, measuring 60x40 feet (right above Samsung, which is right above Coca Cola - I hope this is not symbolic of anything, but given recent global financial news, who knows?).

The US is in China speaking its language; and China is in Times Square - ditto. Both speaking the language of commerce and commercialism.

Jet Lag

2011-08-08T14:34:00.000-04:00

I'm home and hoping to return to daily remarks but for now I just can't believe that it's day when my body says it should be night. And it took me over a week to convince both mind and body the reverse just a few days ago. Hoping the return trip will take a shorter period, it did help to sleep in my own bed last night. However, the return to a stack of bills in the mail, an empty refrigerator and a hot August month in which to plan a very active September is a "Welcome Home!" to reality.

That, and the one hour wait staring at the "Welcome to the USA" sign at Passport Control at Newark Airport as I wound my way back and forth through the maze watching the same tired faces on either side of me as we would wind back to face one another every few disorienting minutes. (Did we fire all the federal workers while I was away? I do know we finally got past the debt ceiling issue; that was certainly a fascinating story to follow in China.)

It's impossible to describe Beijing, because it seems to be everything, all at once. Perhaps it's clearest to call it a city of contrasts, but that just sounds so weak (I mean, New York could be described that way, too, but if that's the base line, then Beijing is New York on an overdose of steroids). Nothing is moderate; everything appears to be at the most extreme ends of the spectrum - rich and poor, sparkling clean and filthy, crowded and peaceful, communist and capitalist, friendly and threatening, over-the-top luxury and squat toilets, 12-lane highways encircling the city and tiny "hutong" alley mazes.

Two consistent features, though, are the air pollution (which only seemed to clean itself to a bright blue sky after a solid day and night of rain) and the scale of everything, which is huge (and coming from a Texan, that means something). Huge multi-lane highways and streets abound, filled with everything (again, all at once - pedestrians, pedicabs, cars, pull-carts, motorized bikes, scooters and pretty much whatever moves). Crossing one of these streets is taking your life into your own hands.

There are so many things to say about Beijing, but maybe after a nap when perhaps day will turn to night and everything will begin to make sense.

Change is Good

2011-07-27T00:59:00.001-04:00

My blogging routine of almost four months now is about to be interrupted for almost two weeks! It's become a true routine, in that I look forward to seeking out things I'd like to share in writing and then configuring ways in my head and on my laptop to present them.

Already I feel I will miss it, like one misses a dear friend. In the meantime, I'll write, and that's good, too.

Even if I wanted to blog from where I'm headed, it wouldn't happen. There are just some (few) places one can't blog on Blogger.

And that's where I'm headed.

Ni hao.

Start "Spreading" the News

2011-07-25T20:54:00.000-04:00

A new food discovery is fun. It feels like finding buried treasure, or at least I imagine it does as I have not yet unearthed buried treasure, nor have I even looked. But I do see new food items, from time to time, even if I also am not even looking. And, when feeling adventurous, I am often willing to put one into the shopping basket.

I recently found two worthy of note. Each may not be everyone's cup of tea (no tea at all, in fact), but since when is any food item going to please everyone?

With that caveat, I begin. I seek out nonfat dairy products. Not low fat, nonfat. This is truly the needle-in-the-haystack challenge. This includes cheese. And when you exclude the fake cheese, soy cheese, etc., there's not much left. Accordingly, it's been a long time since I've had cream cheese to spread on my bagel or toast. Sigh. But the other day at Barzini's, I noticed this small container in the dairy case -

Tnuva Quark Creamy Soft Cheese

I had absolutely no idea what it was, but it had that big "0g" and "Fat Free" on the side, so I decided to give it a go. Well, it's a hit, a home run! It's not cream cheese; don't get excited. But it's not fake cheese either and doesn't taste like fake cheese. Quark cheese is a Mediterranean cheese, and this brand is Israeli. It has a texture between cream cheese and sour cream and it's spreadable. The taste is a tiny bit tart, almost as if cream cheese had a dollop of plain yogurt mixed in. It's perfect on my favorite Eli's raisin bread toast. I'm very happy with this discovery.

And then there's being bad. Dessert and snack bad, not something really horrible. From my new fun time-waster of reading other people's blogs, I learn so many useful things, such as two bloggers from Paris who have recently shouted from the mountain-tops the magical virtues of Lotus Bischoff Spread, which in France is called spéculoos (with such a cute name that also gives away nothing in terms of what's inside the jar, how'd they come up with this)?

"Spéculoos"

I had to search through a few stores on the Upper West Side and got some funny looks and responses from the store clerks, but I finally found it. Honestly, though, now I can't remember where! I can't believe it, because it's really good, in small doses. How to explain it - well, it's like a cookie, but it's a cream of the cookie. You use it like Nutella or peanut butter. OK, you will just have to try it yourself.

Oh, is it 0% fat? No, it's got a few percentage points over that in fat content. But I can't be a monk, can I? And I was just so curious and so enjoyed the hunt.

And now I'll have to do it all over again. At least I have a $1 off coupon, and you do, too.

Caffeinated Weekends - Kava Cafe

2011-07-24T21:35:00.000-04:00

Just south of, and practically in the shadow of, the High Line, resides Kava Cafe. This place is extra special, so run, bike or walk, but however you get there, go.

I really get a kick out of finding something totally unexpected like this. Kava is only about six months old. When it gets "discovered," it will become something huge (but selfishly I hope not). I loved it just the way I found it the other morning on one of our hot and sticky July days.

OK, deep breath, now for the description. It's a sleek Italian espresso bar, as I might dream in my most lavish rendering. Polished black and brass shine throughout, a practically one-of-a-kind espresso maker from La Marzocco, lots of room to stand or sit at Kava's long bars, and best of all (besides the excellent espresso drinks using Stumptown beans) is the huge garden out back, filled with cedar tables and chairs, and completely shaded by enormous leafy trees.

Gelato, too

The perfect shaded garden

The perfect iced latte in the perfect garden

The sleek Milano-style espresso bar and rich terrazzo floor.

Kava's offerings

No detail left undesigned

(A really nice New York Times review and photos are here for more info. The review is from January, though, and doesn't mention the garden.)

Perfect location, perfect garden. Done.

New York When It Sizzles

2011-07-23T10:08:00.000-04:00

Not to beat a dead horse (I'll skip the heat/dead horse possibilities here), but it's really quite uncomfortable outside. This is New York when it's over 100 degrees and breaking temperature records. Not bad-looking in any temperature, though, it usually has a few more people running the Reservoir than I found yesterday.

Yes, I know, I also heard the news alerts to stay indoors, but I'm not always a good listener. I guess others took those alerts more seriously.

But some people really don't have a choice, and I saw a number of them - delivery guys for UPS, construction workers, furniture movers, news stand and fruit stand vendors, bicycle delivery guys, and anyone (including me) standing on a subway platform, where the air refuses to move and feels easily 20 degrees hotter than above-ground.

And for others, who might even have the option to stay inside an air conditioned apartment all day, sometimes even with that lucky opportunity, it's just impossible to stay inside. I'm talking about spending an entire day with small children who get cabin fever pretty early in the day. I've been there, though it now seems a lifetime ago. So I just had to laugh when I saw this in front of the Manhattan Children's Museum at opening time - a long line of moms and caregivers waiting patiently with their charges in the beastly heat, each hoping for their respective nirvana: the kids wishing for friends to play with and new activities to engage in, and the grown-ups just praying for a cool place to sit down to wait out the hot sun and/or the energy of the kids, whichever comes first.

We've got another one today. Stay indoors, East Coast. Today, I'm listening.

Such Heat!

2011-07-22T17:33:00.000-04:00

Global warming it is then! Or perhaps not. One could argue the point, but who has the energy? It's just too darn hot. So, I went out on a hunt for just what one can do in such heat, if one strangely chooses to leave the confines of an air-conditioned space and spend time outdoors, as I attempted yesterday (all in the name of research, as I often say, but this research, alas, didn't involve any calories).

I think this little girl running through the sprinkler in the Union Square playground fountain has the best idea, and certainly won the prize for Appearing to Most Enjoy the Heat (she's not crying, believe me, and watching her dash around in and through that sprinkler with abandon was a riot):

Most everyone else just seemed to slow down, find some shade and do what they would ordinarily do, but with as little movement as possible:

playing chess

playing with toys

wearing costumes and performing childrens' theater, really

finding the shade and grass and just lying there

eating lunch

reading under umbrella

Kindle and iced coffee

And then there were those in great numbers who just didn't seem to understand that it was 95 degrees. But when you're a tourist, you have to play with the cards you're dealt, and if you really want to see a Broadway show, then you really want to see a Broadway show (and I don't blame them). I would have been happy to explain the online option for discount tickets if anyone had wanted to listen:

crowd and hours long line at the TKTS booth in Times Square - no shade at all

In the end, who did I most wish to emulate yesterday? This mom:

back to the water...

Why should only the kids get to have fun while staying cool?

Looking Up

2011-07-21T09:28:00.000-04:00

I can look up from a New York street and, if I squint just enough to close out the skyscrapers (and put my fingers in my ears to muffle the loud American voices and honking taxis), I can see Paris (or some other American vision of European architecture of some past era). Well, just a little bit, and enough to make me realize that I need a trip to Europe, pronto!

A July spent in New York (after a June spent in New York) filled with European tourists is just digging it in unfairly. Ha ha, though, the last laugh might be ours - it's going to be 100 degrees today and tomorrow here, and it's barely into the 60s in Paris. Come to think of it, I'll take that trade!

It's the Plaza Hotel, but the combo rooftop is definitely some kind of Euro.

I have no idea. Any guesses?

Paris, bien sûr!

Paris aussi.

A bit of Renaissance Italy?

A Bavarian Castle? Or Hogwarts?

Sunday Marché on Columbus Avenue

2011-07-20T07:18:00.000-04:00

Seen on a sunny summer Sunday in July -

Jersey Beefsteak Tomatoes

Jersey Peaches - they were yummy

Plants, Flowers and Herbs

Lavender - "Here! Try one!"

Long Island Corn

I didn't even have to sit on a train or bus or expressway traffic in the heat for hours! Just a quick five-minute walk from my Manhattan home on a Sunday morning, and there it is. These neighborhood farmers' markets have really improved and grown over recent years. Just click on the link to see how many and where they are located throughout NYC. They now sell so many things besides produce, such as baked goods, cheeses, meats, freshly caught fish, and even ostrich meat and eggs!

It's a wonderful thing (and selfishly it benefits me, too) that more and more of my fellow New Yorkers show such a serious interest in the origin and quality of what they consume. I hadn't been making a Sunday farmers' market shopping excursion part of my routine, but after I saw how quickly my impulse purchase of six peaches were consumed at home by three people (the same day!), it's definitely going to become a regular part of my weekend.

There really is a difference between the taste of peaches from the market and peaches from the store, even if the sign says they're "local." There's another important difference, too. They're tree-ripened so they're ready to eat NOW. The downside of that is they better get eaten now. They're not going to ripen over the next few days; they're just going to rot. That's the thinking, of course, behind the daily visit to a local market that customarily exists in many places, but not in the United States where we usually bulk up once a week or so (and then bulk up literally). But I prefer the daily shopping - I buy just what I'm going to use and also don't have to decide on what I'm going to have for dinner until just a few hours before I'm going to eat it. So much more satisfying and, to me, far easier.

Ah, New York.