LaVieEnRosie

If this is Sunday...

I must be home.  

Not that I really needed to know what day it was, it just takes stepping outside for a moment to know that I'm in Arizona.  In the past week, I've been in Milwaukee, Madison, Spring Green, Waunakee, Sun Prairie, Menasha and Cedarburg, all cities and towns in Wisconsin.  And yes, the locations of some rather nice quilt shops.  I will tell you more about that next time... as well as the books I've read the past few months, some of the things I brought home from my trip ~ make that trips ~ and so on.  

While at the Shop Owners/Wool Retreat at Primitive Gatherings this past week, one of the lovely ladies I met was Lynn Rogers of Florida.  She used to work at The Olde Green Cupboard, a terrific quilt shop in Jacksonville owned by Gloria Parsons.  The shop is closed now and Lynn works with Karen Covey, the owner of Cinnamon's Quilt Shop, also in Jacksonville.

As many of you know from attending retreats, the entire experience is relaxing, restorative, energizing... mentally balancing, so to speak.  Sort of like t'ai chi... only with thread.  And in our case, with a little bit of wool too.  While engaging in this slow meditative exercise of stitching, Lynn told everyone about another form of exercise... another "chi".  

So we watched an exercise video...

 

Laughing is also part of the retreat experience.

Thank you, Lynn.   

I'll be back later... soon... one of those.  

 

Great Marlborough Street, Batman!

Do you know of where I speak?

Even their own website describes the location as "iconic".  And yes, it is.

Liberty of London.  

Please forgive my pictures but it was overcast and cloudy the afternoon I went to Liberty.  It affected the lighting outside and inside the store, an open space with a large glass skylight.  It didn't rain -- more's the pity as it would have given me a terrific excuse to just hang out in the store, lingering on the 3rd floor with the fabrics.  

As you're reading this, I'm in Wisconsin this week.  I'm there for a Shopowners Retreat at Primitive Gatherings.  No, I am not opening a shop.  No, I am not buying a shop.  But after seeing a card about it at Fall Market last year, I asked Ms. Bongean if I had to do one of those two things to be able to attend.  After a little bit of a discussion, she decided that I was probably harmless enough -- less annoying than she originally thought -- and it would be okay to go.  So here I am -- or there I am.  I'll tell you about it when I get back.  In the meantime, I'll tell you about another great fabric shop.

Over the years, I've managed to collect some Liberty of London fabrics, mostly the lawns for which they are very famous.  But as many of you know, they can be hard to find in much of the US, and when you do find some, it is often very expensive.  

There's the skylight.  On a sunny day, I can only imagine how beautiful it is inside.  

This lovely lady agreed.  

I knew I should have brought a bigger suitcase -- wouldn't this dressform have been fun?

Or one of these little suitcases?  

Ribbons and trims -- I loved how the ribbons were wrapped on the cards.  I almost  bought a couple just to put on a shelf... but then my attention was diverted.  (It was a mixed blessing.  Given that I didn't know what I would do with the ribbon, and the price of it, I was better off being led away from this particular temptation.  Except that sometimes the temptation you leave behind isn't quite as bad as the temptation you're replacing it with.)  

Oh hello my pretties... I'll be right there.  

These vase-like things were on the other side of the building from where I was standing when I first spotted them.  

This was was filled with scarves -- medium-small squares in two or three different prints.  Very pretty.

I was told that George Clooney walked right by me, said "Hello gorgeous!" and I didn't even notice.  (Okay, I would have noticed... I would have noticed anyone who tried to get close enough to this to try and grab one of those rolls!)

Packaged primarily by weight, each of these little rolls has between 10 and 12 different prints, each measuring about 48" long by anywhere from 4" to 6" wide.  Packaged and sold for patchwork, the tag says that if the pieces were sewn together, the finished quilt would be about 48" x 60" or thereabouts.  

Naturally wanting a big quilt, and to share these lovely rolls with all my friends, I picked up the vase-thing and carried what you see in the picture to the salesdesk.  While waiting in line and making a mental list of who might like a roll of Liberty fabrics, I happened to see a price tag.  When it was my turn, I told the lovely saleslady that while I didn't need the vase, I would take all four of the rolls contained therein!  When she questioned my count, I apologize profusely and told her that I hadn't realized that there was a fifth roll tucked in there.  My mistake.  Please forgive me.  Yes, I will take that one too.  

Hey, at 49.95 each, my largesse was going to get very expensive, very quickly.  That's 49.95 pounds -- British Sterling.  That's $81.82 at the current exchange rate.  Each.  Five times $81.82... oy vey.  So just how much do I really like Ginger?

After the formerly nice saleslady mentioned the possiblity of calling security -- oh, to have still been in Paris -- I closed my eyes and picked one.  Then I put it back and picked another one... which I bought.  I'm not sure exactly what I'll make with it but I think it's a safe bet that it won't be very big.  

Nor far from Liberty of London, at 4 Avery Row in Mayfair is another lovely shop known for their fabrics -- and soon to be better known here for their quilt fabrics.

Cabbages & Roses, the British lifestyle company founded by Christina Strutt -- the folks behind the upcoming Northcote Range by Moda Fabrics.  (Coming in September.)

Did you know Christina has a blog?

But for the glass in the picture frame, I think there were a half-dozen prints I would have happily taken home with me.  It is a beautiful shop.  

(No, this shop didn't have any fabric.  There are two shops that stock the home decorating weight fabrics for which Cabbages & Roses are known, but those stores were a little further afield.  I could have taken the Underground, and I did consider it, but with just a few days in London and rapidly decreasing luggage space, I thought it best not to throw any more temptation in my path.  Next time, right?)

More on London later... though not much more.  

 

Tomorrow and tomorrow...

When I wrote that I'd be back "tomorrow", you knew that I meant "a future time or period", not "the day after today", right?

It was a busy couple of days this week with trying to get the new Schnibbles finished, stuff off to the website people, bindings attached and stitched, quilts cut out and so on.  To make it a little more challenging, I've also been off-schedule with sleep.  It isn't because of any delayed jetlag, I almost wish it was.  My problem is that I've been on a reading spree the past few months and including the books I read on my various flights, I've read about fifteen books in the last two months.  That wouldn't be a problem except that I get so wrapped up in my book that I stay up until the wee hours of the morning reading.  Yes, it is a tad obsessive but I will tell you that I come by it naturally, my Dad was the same way.  I know that the quiet time is part of the appeal but as every reader knows, you get involved in the story and you lose track of time.  Sometimes it is the story and sometimes it is the beauty of the language and the magic of the writer's skill.  

Written text aside... today is mostly about pictures.  Which means I have a couple of "just so you knows..."

1.  This post is calorie-free.  The behavior it provokes might not be.  

2.  Not every place we went allowed pictures.  The good news is that I took a lot of pictures when I could and even managed a few pictures at one place where I shouldn't have... but I didn't know that until after I had taken a few.)

3.  There are a lot of pictures here simply because I couldn't decide which ones to leave out.  It would be like having to choose between a fat quarter bundle of Ruby and a fat quarter bundle of American Banner Rose.  As if!  

Seriously.  Choose?  Between this...  

... or this?

I rest my case.

I don't remember where I first read about Context Tours, the company behind the walking tours I took in Paris.  Billed as "walking tours for the intellectually curious", Context Travel conducts walking tours for small groups -- the group size is limited to six people -- in the United States and Europe, in cities like New York and Boston, Berlin and Barcelona.  From food  tours to museum tours, the walking tours are led by people with knowledge and expertise in the subject of the tour.  As it states on the website, they "are a network of architects, historians, art historians, and specialists who organize over 300 different walks in 14 cities around the world."

I signed up for two tours -- From Baguette to Bistro: The Culinary Traditions of Paris and the Chocolate Walk.  (I also signed up for two other tours -- for the Musee d'Orsay and the Marais part of Paris -- but they didn't have enough people to proceed.  Funny how that wasn't a problem for the food-related tours.)

The "baguette" tour was Tuesday morning and we started at a cafe, Les Comptoir des Saint-Peres.  

This cafe was less than five minutes from my hotel.  While the cafe looks charming, I had been told that it wasn't very good.  As there were a lot of empty seats outside and inside, I think the recommendation was a good one.  We set out from here and walked right past my hotel to our first destination, also less than five minutes from my hotel.

Our group of six was led by Barbara Austin, a pastry chef who is now a freelance food writer living in Paris.  She was -- is -- funny, informational, knowledgeable and an excellent tour guide.  (Her blog is terrific too.) 

This is Eric Kayser, a very prominent and respected boulangerie with several locations in Paris, and elsewhere in Europe and Africa.

Eric Kayser doesn't allow pictures inside the boulangerie so this will have to do.  

If you want a sense of what the tours are like, this is a great place to start.  Barbara started by explaining the difference between a boulangerie and a patisserie -- it is simply the focus, if bread is their main thing, they are a boulangerie.  If pastries are the focus, then it is a patisserie... though both usually have have large selections of both.  Easy, right?  We learned about baguettes and pain levain, pain rustique and how to tell if a croissant is made with butter or margarine.  Some croissants will be labeled "croissants au beurre", meaning that it is made with butter.  If a shop has curved croissants and straight croissants, the straight croissants are made with butter and the curved croissants are made with margarine.  If there is no "au beurre" and only curved croissants... ask.  It's probably not butter.

Barbara bought a couple of baguettes monge -- fresh, classic baguettes -- from the shop for our taste-testing.  (Exceptional... but then I'm an easy sell.  I love bread.)  

On a side note, Eric Kayser also has delicious salads, sandwiches and even pizza, making them a very popular destination for lunch.  Take-out or eat-in, they were very busy.  I know because I was there twice.  

Across the street from Eric Kayser was Androuet.

Androuet is a cheese shop -- a fromagerie.  But as we learned, there is more to being a great cheese shop than just selling cheese.  With cheese, the aging process is what makes a cheese special, that is the "affinage".  While some cheesemakers will handle the cheese until it is finished, in France, many send their fresh cheese to an affineur for the finishing process.  The affineur will keep the ripening cheese in a "cave" or a climate-controlled building, adjusting the humidity and temperature as necessary.  Affineurs are highly skilled, and it is a skill that takes years to master and perfect.  As you can imagine, the best affineurs are considered artists and their skills are highly sought after.

We did a little tasting here too -- Comte, Ossau-Iraty, Chevre and I don't remember what the last one was... but I remember it was good.  

From Androuet we went up the rue de Bac to a little boucherie -- a meat/butcher shop.

As with affineurs, the people who own and work in a boucherie or a charcuterie are skilled tradespeople.  People work for many years as an apprentice, and many businesses are family-owned.  One of the things that was most interesting was learning that the people who work in these shops actually know about their products -- where they come from, how they are raised, how to prepare them, etc.  It was interesting to see the differences between a shop like this one and the "butchers" that many of us are familiar with at our big grocery stores.  And to learn what the hot new trend in Paris is...

Instant mashed potatoes.  

I thought they were potato chips too.  

Our next stop was Ryst-Dupeyron, a wine shop that is more than just that.  Under the name Chateau Ryst-Dupeyron, this is one of the oldest makers of Armagnac in France.  Armagnac is a distilled wine usually made from armagnac grapes.  What did I learn here?  I don't like Armagnac, not even the really old stuff... the good stuff.  

Then again, maybe I was saving myself...

It's a fact -- you cannot learn about the culinary traditions of Paris without addressing the subject of chocolate.  I'm sorry about the scaffolding... though really, I didn't have anything to do with it.  Then again, maybe it was being set up to protect people... to keep them away from Chapon, the chocolate shop owned by a famous Paris chocolatier, Patrice Chapon.    

 

The back wall of the shop is entirely covered with vintage chocolate molds.  

In Chapon, we sampled two different chocolates.  The first were individual pieces of chocolate -- a praline-like filling that was firm, not gooey, covered in dark chocolate and sprinkled with gray sea salt.  You should know that I love sea salt and dark chocolate so this could have been filled with sawdust and I still would have liked it.  That said, it was incredible.  The second item were two different bars of single-origin chocolate, the "new, big trend/fad in chocolate in Paris".  As with coffee, "single origin" chocolate is made using beans from a single region, sometimes even from a single farm.  The idea is that -- as with coffee and grapes grown for wine -- the cocoa beans from a single region take on a very specific flavor, one that can be lost when combined with other flavors.  It was very good, and an interesting concept, but I think you have to be a lot more into "tastings" than I am.  Given a choice, I would have had another piece of the praline thing with the salt.    

Yes.  Watches made of chocolate.  They are for decoration and consumption, not for any actual time-keeping ability.  Unless you're keeping track of how long it is between bites of chocolate.

So we've been to a bakery, a cheese shop, a wine shop, a chocolate shop, a butcher... what's missing?

Did you know that SmartCars were designed to be able to park two cars to a single parking space on the streets?  Facing straight in, or backed in, the depth and width is such that two of these can fit in a single space.  But that's not the point of this picture -- I thought it was funny how the car in back was so determined to be able to park here that they got really, really, really close.

This close.  

The other point of this picture is that if you spent too much time at the following shop, there would be no way of fitting in one of those little cars.  

La Patisserie des Reves.  All of the pastries were displayed under a glass cloche with a spotlight shining on its beauty.  If you were to actually purchase one of these lovelies, it would be brought out from the back room.

While we were in the shop, a woman bought a tarte that she was apparently bringing as a gift to the hostess who had invited her to dinner that evening.  I'm told that a gift like this is very welcome, very appreciated and guaranteed to get you invited back.  The tarte -- a Tarte Aux Fruites Noirs ~ Blackberry Tarte -- was placed in a beautiful box and wrapped.  It was an exquisite gift -- and not an inexpensive one.  Most of the large tartes and desserts were around 30 Euros or $42.00, with the invidual tartes and desserts costing around 5.5 Euros or $7.50.    

Remember -- just looking at the pictures is calorie-free.

Oh, and while the names are on the signs, the descriptions are a combination of what I could remember and what I found in my favorite cooking reference book.  

Le Chou Chou -- the two pastries on the side.  "Chou" is a cream puff.  The two white puffs are Fruitier de Saison, a mound of vanilla pastry cream on a base of pastry with a raspberry ~ the seasonal fruit.

Tarte Aux Fraises -- Strawberry Tarte.

Tarte Aux Fruits Noirs -- Blackberry Tarte.

St. Honore -- A traditional French cake named for Saint Honore, the patron saint of pastry bakers.  It consists of a base of pate brisee topped with cream puffs that are dipped in caramel prior to being positioned on the base.  The caramel coating glues the puffs together.  The cream is traditionally Saint-Honore cream -- pastry cream lightened with beaten egg whites or whipped cream, also called a mousseline.

Fraisier -- The base of this cake is probably a genoise (a rich, light cake that is similar in texture to a sponge cake).  It is topped with strawberries and creme patisserie ~ pastry creme ~ or mousseline (any sauce to which whipped cream or beaten eggs have been added just prior to serving).  The topping?  Not sure.

Tarte Aux Citron -- Lemon Tart.

Paris Brest -- A French dessert said to have been created by a pastry chef in honor of a bicycle race between Paris and Brest.  It consists of a baked almond-topped choux pastry ring (patterned after a bicycle tire) that is split and filled with a praline-flavored buttercream.

Tarte Aux Framboises de saison -- Raspberry Tarte.

Gran Cru -- This description comes from Paris Patisseries, a wonderful blog/website about patisseries in Paris.  This Grand Cru came in 7th on their list of the Seventeen Best Pastries in Paris 2010.   

There are desserts for people who love chocolate, and then there’s the Grand Cru, the dessert for people who wish it were legally possible to marry a mountain of it. This is perhaps the greatest pure chocolate dessert known to man. Successive layers of Venezuelan chocolate preparations (mousse, ganache and biscuit) rest above an ultra-thin layer of praliné croustillant, which adds just the right touch of character.

Eclair Au Chocolate -- the Chocolate Eclair.  This is the chocolate eclair that you know and recognize, it has just been slid into a cylinder of milk or dark chocolate.  It was very hard to actually push the knife and fork into this to break it into pieces for tasting, not because it was hard but because it was too beautiful to damage.  But it was worth it as it was decadently, fabulously and memorably good.  

The last stop on the Baguette tour was La Grande Epicerie at Le Bon Marche.

Le Bon Marche is a department store on the rue de Sevres and like Harrod's of London, they have a large food hall that sells very high-end foodstuffs.  It is like the coolest gourmet food store you've ever been too, only done with a French flair.  In addition to carrying everything we had seen on our walk -- wines, cheese, bread, chocolate, pastries and meat -- they also carry fancy teas from around the world, including the most famous tea-houses of Europe and Asia.  Jams and jellies?  There are aisles stacked high with beautiful jars containing delicious-looking and fabulous-sounding confitures.  Mustards, sea salts, peppers and spices?  If it's the best, La Grande Epicerie carries it.  

They also have a very large and very busy fresh food market, making it a very popular lunch spot.  Salads, sandwiches, fresh fruits and vegetables... okay, basically everything you could possibly consider appealing is there and at pretty reasonable prices.  Having nibbled my way down the rue de Bac, sampling chocolate, bread, cheese and pastries, you won't be surprised to learn that I wasn't all that hungry.  So I bought some strawberries, a roll of bread containing pieces of fig ~ Pain Figue, and a bottle of water.  Lest you feel sorry for me, you should have tasted the strawberries -- fraise des bois.  Heavenly.  Lunch in tow, I headed off down the rue de Sevres to the Boulevard Saint-Germain and the Eglise Saint-Germain-des-Pres.  (Remember my quota.)

Actually, it was the meeting point for the Chocolate Walk.  It was led by Camille Labro, a food writer who has worked in Berkeley, Provence, New York and Paris.  She's been a docent for this particular walk for several years -- and just so you know, she's a slim, beautiful young woman who clearly knows a whole lot more about chocolate than she eats.

First stop -- DeBauve & Gallais.

At DeBauve, we began by sampling chocolate wafers in various percentages of cocoa.  The tasting is interesting because you start with a thin little wafer of chocolate -- no nuts, caramel, flavoring or sea salt.  You place the wafer on your tongue and let it slowly soften while you inhale the aroma of the chocolate.  The first wafer is ninety-nine percent cocoa bean... not very tasty.  Crumbly, dry and almost a little bitter.  A wafer that I think was seventy-two percent was next... now we're getting someplace!  Actually, this was my favorite one as I love dark chocolate and I don't like chocolate that is too sweet.  A wafer that was about sixty percent was next -- good, but not as good as the seventy percent, in my humble opinion.  Finally, a wafer of fifty percent cocoa, -- it was easily the favorite of everyone else on the tour.  

A few minutes away on the rue Bonaparte, Laduree.

And because I'm a colossal twit and forgot to get a picture of the macarons for which Laduree is famous...

Photo courtesy of: mieletcannelle.wordpress.com

Yes, I ate the one I bought.  But I have a reason -- I had embarked on a very official, very important comparison of macarons in Paris.  To validate, justify and verify my findings, I limited myself to just one flavor -- the Caramel a la Fleur de Sel.  The Caramel with Salted Butter.  I will tell you my findings in a moment.    

From Laduree, we went to a newer and very trendy chocolate shop, Un Dimanche a Paris.  The name means "A Sunday in Paris" and it is owned by Pierre Cluizel, the son of Michel Cluizel, one of the most well-known chocolatiers in France.  Wouldn't you love to be part of that family?  

From the Un Dimanche website... their picture was a bit better than mine.  

Pink Peppercorns in White Chocolate.  Rosemary in Milk Chocolate.  Cilantro in Dark Chocolate.  Those were some of the more interesting offerings at Un Dimanche.  They had samples of these tiny little bits of chocolate -- about the size of rice -- and while I can't say that I was tempted to bring bundles of it home, I think it shows that this is a shop willing to take a risk and try something new.  But they did have plenty of traditional pastries and chocolates as well.  

If this was super-cool, then Maison Georges Larnicol is a little more of an over-the-top sort of place.

 

These are made entirely of chocolate.  

I will tell you that I much preferred the elegant, understated shops.  Not because I'm an elegant or understated kind of girl but because of the simplicity of the presentation and packaging.  This next shop looked and felt like Tiffany's in all its calm, quiet, wood-paneled glory.  The next shop on the tour was one of the Paris locations of Pierre Marcolini, a chocolatier based out of Brussels.  By the way, he's kind of cute.  

This picture doesn't do the black packaging justice.  It was stunning -- to the point where I don't know that it would have been possible to actually eat the chocolates.  

But we managed just the same.  The Earl Grey and The Citron are -- were -- very good.  When in Paris... right?

After a trip through the Marche Saint Germain -- an open market that is sort of like a grocery store with individual vendors for cheese, vegetables, olives, bread, etc. -- and because I just hadn't been to enough patisseries in one day, we  went into Gerard Mulot.  

And because you can't live completely on pastries...

Finally, I knew from my reading about Paris that any kind of food expedition or exploration that didn't include Pierre Herme was incomplete.  Even though Laduree invented the macaron, Pierre Herme is the one who made it famous.  At least that's what all the books, magazines and blogs write.  

And really, we're talking about pastries here.  Who cares why we're going there, the only thing that matters is that we don't miss it, right?

While they are seen as fierce competitors, Pierre Herme couldn't have been more different than Laduree.  Whereas Laduree had a tea-shop prettiness to it, Pierre Herme was contemporary and uber-cool.  

This is the place where I wasn't supposed to be taking pictures.  I didn't know that and Camille warned me to be careful when she saw me with my camera.  But when I started putting it away, she said that since they were so busy, I could probably take a few more... just be ready to put the camera away if I am seen.  Didn't I tell you she was great?

 

The shop is small -- it can't be much more than 15 feet wide and 30 feet long.  This counter runs the length of one side, and the opposite wall has shelves with boxes of macarons, chocolates, teas and other products.  The shop is sleek and modern with dark wood and minimalist sorts of fixtures.  The pastries and macarons are the attention-getters here.    

After leaving Pierre Herme, it was almost 5:00 pm and everyone was exhausted.  Maybe not Camille, but the five us on the tour were done for the day.  Or crashing from the sugar... it was one of those.  So after bidding Camille goodbye, I walked down the rue Bonaparte to the Boulevard Saint-Germain, and then toward my hotel.  I shopped along the way... funny how that sort of thing happens.

Now about my macaron tasting... I bought the same Caramel with Salted Butter from Laduree, Un Dimanche a Paris, Pierre Marcolini and Pierre Herme.  As with most things, we all have a different preference when it comes to the texture of the meringue cookie part of the macaron, the filling, the flavor, etc.  When it was all said and done, my favorite macaron was the one from Un Dimanche a Paris.  I liked everything about it -- mostly that it wasn't too sweet.  The caramel flavor was terrific and there was just a tiny hint of the salt -- like the best sea salt caramels.  The Laduree was in second, followed by the macaron from Pierre Marcolini.  The macaron from Pierre Herme was my least favorite.  Don't get me wrong, it was terrific and I know that for most people, this is their favorite.  The caramel flavor was excellent but I found the macaron to be too sweet for me, probably because it had the most buttercream filling of the four macarons.  That also meant that the texture and flavor of each bite was more buttercream than macaron meringue part, whereas the other macarons had a better balance of that.  In my opinion.    

But if you want to send me a box of Pierre Herme macarons, it isn't like I'm going to send them back.

Just so you know, macarons from Laduree and Pierre Marcolini are available in the United States, in New York City.

And that's it for now.  

Aren't you glad?

Until tomorrow next time.  

 

Je parle un peu de Francais...

But sadly, je only parle un peu de computerese, as evidenced by the way the post I was writing last night just disappeared.  ::::poof::::

I'm still not sure what happened to it but I am now more convinced than ever that some of the "improvements" folks make with software while trying to make everything more "user friendly" aren't really improvements at all.  I think it is all part of some giant conspiracy to make me feel stupid, to keep themselves in business and to get me to call "Peggy" in Punjab.   

I suppose I could take the :::poof::: as a sign not to write another post about my trip -- and I am sure there are a few folks who wish I would -- but that would be admitting defeat.... to it, and to "them".  And unfortunately for those of you that want to read quilt-related stuff -- that's coming soon, I promise -- you'll just have to figure out a way to silence the friends and family who don't live in Phoenix and are hounding me for pictures of my trip.  

Before I forget... about the Hotel Verneuil in Paris.  I didn't get a picture of my room!  Can you believe I forgot that?  While my room isn't one of those pictured on the website, there are pictures of many of the rooms, enough to give you an idea of what they're like.  There wasn't anything about the hotel that I didn't like -- even the shampoo/bath gel smelled good.  Simply put, I would happily go back.    

Now about Paris... On my first full day in Paris -- Monday -- I had arranged to meet up with Mary and Alise, the sisters-in-law I had met at the Chateau.  We made plans to meet in front of the Cathedral de Notre Dame.  

Down there.  Finding each other shouldn't be too hard... there aren't that many people.  Not really.

It seemed like a good idea when we discussed it in front of the Chateau on Sunday morning... or maybe I should clarify that.  I was in front of the Chateau on the way to the van leaving for the airport and Alise was in the window of her room on the third floor.  It probably doesn't come as any surprise that since none of us had ever been to Notre Dame, we weren't really sure how big an area that might be, or how many people might be there.  But it is a Catholic cathedral so miracles can happen -- we found each other and it didn't take more than about ten minutes.  

Since we obviously knew where we were and what we were doing, we got in line, the one closest to where we were.  Which happened to be on the side of the building... they go the same place, right?  Uh, not exactly.  As we entered "the building", we found ourselves in a staircase, a circular one.  Lots and lots of stone steps -- 240 of them, to be exact.  Up and up, round and round... all the way to the first level, the gift shop.  As an aside, I think the lovely folks at the Cathedral de Notre Dame need to put a sign up somewhere telling folks that some of the items available in that particular gift shop aren't available elsewhere.  Then again, maybe they do it on purpose.  These "special" items are your reward for having climbed the stairs... and if you leave without buying, that is your penance because you won't find it again unless you climb the stairs again.  (Yes, there was a small print that I thought I might need to have.  No, I didn't get it while I was there, and yes, I regretted that decision.  No, I wasn't climbing all those steps again just to get that silly print.)   

He's thinking I should have bought the print too.  

While I hadn't really thought about it beforehand, I was surprised that all the gargoyles were different.  There was an elephant, a pelican, a leopard, and all sorts of gargoylish-looking figures -- one of them was even eating another little creature.  They are kind of cool.  Off in the distance, that is the Basilica de Sacre-Coeur.  

This is one of my favorite pictures, it was taken from the top of Notre Dame, though not the top of the tower.  That would have meant another 147 steps so I bailed volunteered to go stand in the sun to wait in line for entry to the main Cathedral.  It was a really long line.  And what I really wanted was a bottle of water, which I knew I could get outside.  If they had had bottles of water at the top of the tower, I would have gone.    

Despite all the people -- most of whom were more than a little noisy -- I loved that the Cathedral still managed to seem quiet in the way that only churches can be quiet.  I look forward to going back one day when it isn't so crowded -- when there aren't so many tourists.  I know, I'm one of them. 

One of my favorite things at Notre Dame -- and at all of the churches and museums I saw -- was the ceilings.  From the way the light came through the windows to the beauty of the stonework, I think I enjoyed the buildings themselves more than the artwork.  But it did make me wonder... how is it that workers in the 1300s, using what can only be described as relatively primitive tools, build something as complicated as this while I can't find a contractor who can properly align the gate on the patio so that the lock works using hyper-fancy pneumatic tools and computer-aided leveling equipment?  I'm just wondering.     

After lunch at a lovely cafe, we spent an hour touring Paris from a boat on the Seine.  This was taken from the east side of Ile del la Cite, it shows the other side of Notre Dame.  Several friends had recommended taking a cruise as an excellent way to see the city and get oriented, and while I agree with that completely, I don't think I would recommend going when it is as hot and sunny as it was that day.  As beautiful as it was, we jumped ship (not literally) at the stop near the Louvre.  From there we wandered through the gardens and park on our way to do some shopping -- and window-shopping -- on the Rue St. Honore.

Window-shopping in Paris just might be better than the actual shopping as the French are world leaders in presentation and packaging.  Whether the shop was selling cheese, roses, chocolates or vegetables, everything was so beautifully arranged and displayed.  A single chocolate in a small box was given the same attention as a 10-carat diamond... well, maybe not exactly but I'm trying to make a point here so work with me.  And that point is that everything was treated as being important and special, something to be savored, appreciated and enjoyed, if for no other reason than for the care given to the manufacture and presentation of that item.  As someone who likes to make "stuff", I loved seeing that an attention to detail still matters.  

Since I know everyone is particularly curious about the food in Paris, I have to tell you about our dinner on Monday night.  Kaari Meng, the French General herself, had told Mary and Alise about her favorite restaurant in Paris, Le Relais de l'Entrecote.  

Le Relais is famous for the entrecote sauce, a green-ish sauce that is described as a complex butter-based sauce containing tarragon, marjoram, dill, rosemary, thyme, basil, paprika, anchovies, and numerous other condiments and spices.  Dinner begins with a mixed green salad with a terrific dressing, and is followed by a steak-like piece of beef cooked to your preferred done-ness and pommes frites.  Loved the pomme frites.  Le Relais is very popular with tourists, to the point that the line started forming 30 minutes before the restaurant opened.  Within a few minutes of the first guests being seated, the place is full and there is still a good-sized line outside.  Diners are asked two questions -- how would you like your meat cooked?  And, would you like red or white wine with your dinner?  Okay, three questions -- would you like dessert?   

The sauce is "interesting".  I didn't dislike it but I didn't love it.  While dinner was very good, let it suffice to say that I can now put Le Relais on the "been there, done that" list.  Of course, maybe I was already full... or maybe I had liked the cafe where we had appetizers better.  

You see, we got to the restaurant about an hour and a half before it opened.  We didn't know that until we got there and since we had been walking and shopping all afternoon, we were hot, tired, thirsty and hungry.  We were ready to sit down and partake of some refreshments.  So rather than stand and wait in line, we went to a cafe sort of caddy-corner to Le Relais.  Le Petit Zinc.

Of all the restaurants and cafes I visited in Paris, this was my favorite.  We had the most incredible Gazpacho served with a scoop of Champagne sorbet.  Please forgive me but I didn't think about taking a picture until I was trying to do something to occupy my hands lest I pick up my almost-empty bowl to lick it clean.  It was that good.  Since we still had time, we ordered a cheese plate... to go with the wine we still had left.

Do you see what I mean about the presentation of everything?  So when you get to Paris, my recommendation would be to skip Le Relais and head to Le Petit Zinc.  Everything about the place was terrific -- the food, the service and the wine.  

Mary, Alise and I also spent a day in Montmartre.  I took the Metro and met them outside the Musee des Arts et Metiers -- and to what was my favorite Metro Station, Arts et Metiers.  

We took the Metro from here to the Abbesses Metro station in Montmartre -- changing trains to switch lines twice at Chatelet and Saint-Lazare.  After a few fall starts -- I have a knack for getting on the right train going in the wrong direction -- I finally got it into my head that you need to remember two things: the color of the line and the name of the final Metro stop of the direction you need to go.  It shouldn't be that hard, but I still managed to get it backwards.  Though in my defense, have you ever been in a Paris Metro station?  It is sort of like an ant-farm.  I would love to see an over-head, cross-section diagram of some of the stations, especially the switching stations.  In many cases, there are multiple entries to the station and after you go through the ticket gate, you go down at least one flight of stairs.  That leads you to a hallway where you choose a direction -- hallway -- based on the line and direction you're traveling.  Down more stairs and sometimes through more hallways, and down more stairs.  In a few of the stations, I'll bet you could walk a mile or more without ever leaving the station.  There are maps located throughout the station, and hallways and platforms are well-marked.  

As for the trains, some are "older" and some are very new.  Some are crowded and some have less than a dozen people per car.  The stations were also quite clean -- cleaner than the many of the New York subway stations I've been in -- and I regularly saw police officers of one sort or another patrolling the platforms.  (On a side note, if you have ever been to Paris... what is up with the French policemen?  Is this where male models go when they are too old for GQ?  Almost every officer I saw was tall, very buff, and extremely good-looking... and yes, you could call them sexy.  I don't know if it is the tight t-shirts and well-fitting cargo-ish pants tucked into combat-style boots, or the short hair but Lord, have mercy.  The thought of committing some kind of minor transgression crossed my mind... more than once.)

Where was I?

Montmartre.  This is the Eglise Saint-Jean de Montmartre.  If you want to know why every American comes home from France with so many pictures of churches, it is law.  As you enter the country, you are issued a form that you are required to sign and depending on the duration of your stay, you are told how many pictures you are required to take.  Failure to meet your quota results in the forfeiture of everything you bought in Paris.  I just barely met my quota of 687 pictures.  Thankfully, bad pictures count.

This lovely church bordered the little park where we exited the Metro station.  After a very nice cafe creme, we walked down the Place Saint-Pierre to the park below Sacre-Coeur, the Square Louise-Michel.  It is here that were faced with a very difficult decision... ride the funicular or climb 863 steps.  Steps?  Funicular?  For the price of a Metro ticket -- less than 2 Euros -- it was an easy choice.

At the top, the Basilica de Sacre-Coeur.  Of all the churches in Paris, I think this one wound up being my favorite.  

The views from Sacre-Coeur are worth the trip up the hillside.  

One of the other big draws of Montmartre is the shopping to be found below the Square Louise-Michel.  Tissus?  That is French for fabric.


While sewing is making a comeback here in the United States, it never "left" in France.  The Rue d'Orsel and the neighboring streets are filled with fabric shops.  If you've ever been to the garment district in a city like New York or Los Angeles, then you have an inkling of what it was like.  Huge shops filled with hundreds and hundreds of bolts and rolls of fabric.  But not just a dozen or so shops, there were several streets where every shop on the street was a fabric shop.  Silks, satins, wools, linens, and cottons in every weight, color and pattern imaginable.  Bolt after bolt, roll after roll... shop after shop.  And the notions!  Buttons, ribbons, trims, zippers, threads, and books!  I could have come home with a couple hundred yards of just linen.  Ginghams, stripes and solids, in lightweight to medium-weight, with prices that would have shocked you at how reasonable they were.  Most of the linens I fondled were less than $20.00 a meter.  If it makes you feel better, I saw some very familiar "tissus de patchwork" that cost $40.00 a meter.  

 

This was one of my favorite shops -- okay, it was the only one where I remembered to take a picture.  And that was probably only because I was standing outside waiting for Mary and Alise to finish making their purchases.  I had already managed to get into a little trouble here with the books... trouble that followed me all the way home.  Two beautiful French sewing books and an embroidery book -- and yes, I promise pictures of those soon.  

Alise and Mary returned home the next day and I continued to explore Paris by myself.   

I saw the Louvre though I was only able to spend a few hours there.  Of the museums in Paris, the Musee d'Orsay was first on my list so that is where I spent the most "museum" time.  Interesting fact -- If you spent 24 hours a day, seven days a week at the Louvre, and you spent just 3 seconds looking at each exhibit and item on display, it would take you more than 3 months to see everything.  I think that means I need to go back.  

I found the little needlework shop on the Rue Chabanais recommended by the Blackbird Designs ladies, Des Fils et une Aiguille.  A couple of meters of ribbon and several cross-stitch charts by Renato Parolin of Italy found their way into my bag. 

One of the best things I did in Paris was take a cruise on the Canal St. Martin.  I chose to start at the Quai de la Loire in the Bassin Villette, near the Parc de la Villette, and cruise to the Bastille.  Because of the locations involved, more people start at the Bastille and cruise toward the Parc... but I often do things backwards.  The cruise took about 2 1/2 hours to cover about 1 1/2 miles, going through tunnels, under bridges and through a series of locks that changes the water level about 15 feet from start to finish.  What I loved most about the canal -- and the cruise -- is that it takes you through a much quieter and more residential part of Paris.  While there are shops, cafes, hotels and parks, the streets and neighborhoods along the canal are less crowded than those along the Seine.  The pace is quite different and so is the atmosphere.  And yes, this is the canal in the French movie, Amelie.  

This picture was "borrowed" from Google.  In the rush to get out of the hotel in time to get to the Bassin Villette, I left my camera behind.  The pictures I took with my iPhone were either very dark or blurry.  For more pictures, click here. 

Tomorrow I will tell you about the two walking tours I did one of the days in Paris.  They deserve a post of their own.  If you doubt that, just consider the titles of the two tours -- From Baguette to Bistro: The Culinary Traditions of Paris and the Chocolate Walk.  Yes, I have pictures of pastries.  And yes, Laduree and Pierre Herme were on the itinerary of the Chocolate Walk.  

I don't  remember where I read about Spring, a little restaurant on the rue Bailleul owned by three Americans.  Located less than fifteen minutes walk from my hotel, what caught my attention was the recommendation for the wine tastings held in the late afternoons at the restaurant.  Paris.  Wine.  Tastings.  What time should I be there?  And do I need a reservations?  (4:00 pm and yes.)    

No, that's not my bike.  I was still sitting on mine while I took this picture.  (Not really.  While riding a bike through Paris would be great fun, riding through all that nutty traffic on a Friday night after having a little wine didn't seem like a particularly good idea.)  While investigating further, I learned that the restaurant also offered something they called a Wine and Cheese Lab, a tasting that taught about the pairings of artisinal cheeses and wine.  If the wine tasting sounded good, this sounded so much better.

From left to right:  St. Maure - a goat's milk cheese from Loire / Camembert -- a cow's milk cheese from Normandy / Rochebaron -- a cow's milk cheese from Auvergne / Ossau-Iraty -- a sheep's milk cheese from Basque Country / Comte -- a cow's milk cheese from Jura / Bleu des Causses -- a sheep's milk cheese from Auvergne.  

I am moving to Auvergne.  With frequent trips to Basque Country.  And Jura.  The cheeses were incredible, and not like anything we can get here in the United States, even the exceptional artisan cheesemakers in various parts of the country.  The difference is that the best  cheeses in France are made with raw milk, only large commercial manufacturers pasteurize the milk.  Cheeses that are produced for export to the States must be made with pasteurized milk.  As you can probably imagine, the difference in taste is subtle but there is definitely a difference.  

When you get to Paris, this is another one of the things I would highly recommend.  It was great fun.  I learned a lot.  And spending two hours in a lovely restaurant drinking good wine and eating great cheese isn't a bad way to spend your last night in Paris.   

After leaving Spring, I walked along the river for awhile before going back to the hotel to start packing -- I admit it, I didn't want it to get dark and I didn't really want to go back to the hotel because that meant my time in Paris was over.  I took this picture as I crossed the Pont des Arts.  

Of all the pictures I took in Paris, this is probably the one I'll carry in my head... at least until the next time.  

 

Blogus interuptus...

Did you think I had hopped a plane back to Europe?

I considered it.   

Everything here is fine... well, all except for the part about everybody thinking that it's time I get back to work.  Orders?  Trips to the printer for new pattern covers and patterns?  Fall Market?  Bummer, huh?

Can you believe it is August 1st?  Just a little over four weeks ago, I was here...

And loving every minute of it, thank you.  But more about that in a moment...

Have you seen all the Georges?  Sherri and Sinta have done it again, they've assembled a gaggle of gorgeous Georges.  A Quilting Life and Pink Pincushion.  A big box of "stuff" just arrived back from the folks at That Patchwork Place... the "props" used for the pictures of Layer Cakes and Charm Packs.  I think I might be able to find something in there for the prizes that Sherri and Sinta will announce in... whenever they announce it.  More on that later.

The last time I was here, I wrote that I left on Sunday for a train trip from Gare Matabiau in Toulouse to Gare Montparnasse in Paris.  Except that we had a communication malfunction and folks mistakenly thought I was leaving from Montalban, about 15 minutes from the Chateau.  Uh, not exactly.  Toulouse is about an hour away.  After some re-arranging of vans, plans and departure from the chateau times, we got everything straightened out and the fun began.  The van was going to the Airport in Toulouse... about 15 minutes or so from the train station.  If everything went perfectly, we would arrive at the airport at 8:30... plenty of time for me to make my train at 9:18.  

I was a little nervous too.  

We got to the airport at 8:30 and since my bags had been put on last for just this reason, I said a quick goodbye to all and took off down the sidewalk to the terminal.  I went in, immediately got an elevator to the lower level where the buses and taxis are, and went rushing out to find a taxi.  Except I turned the wrong direction, heading for the buses.  Not a taxi in sight.  A nice gentleman who spoke just a smattering of English pointed me in the correct direction and set off to find -- the only taxi driver in Toulouse who didn't speak a word of English.  I found him right away.  Fortunately, my French did cover, "Gare Matabiau, tres rapide, s'il vous plait."  

We pulled up at about 5 minutes to 9:00... all good, right?  I've still got more than 20 minutes!

I walked in the front door of the train station to see a couple hundred people lined up waiting for ???

Me?  Nervous?  Uh, yes.  

As I am trying to move around and see how to get in line... and maybe even impress upon someone that I might possibly be running really late... the clock chimes 9:00 am, the doors to the platforms open and everybody streams through.  Including me.  How cool is that?  It took me about two minutes to find the proper car... okay, be pointed in that direction by a very nice porter who obviously sensed my complete and total cluelessness about where to go.  By 9:10, I was seated in my assigned seat with luggage stowed.  I had even had time to buy a couple of bottles of water and lunch.   

This is French fast food.  I couldn't decide which one I wanted and since time was a little "tight", I just pointed to two of the sandwiches, figuring this just might wind up being lunch, dinner and breakfast.  I had no idea what to expect at my hotel in Paris.  

I shouldn't have worried.  A car from the hotel met me at the train station and took me to the Hotel Verneuil in the 6th Arrondissment, the Saint-Germain neighborhood.  It is on the left bank of Paris, about five minutes from the Seine.  It was right across the river from the Louvre, less than ten minutes from the Musee d'Orsay, and less than fifteen minutes walk from Ile de la Cite and Notre Dame.  

The hotel is a little bed-and-breakfast sort of place with about 20 rooms.  The rooms are small but very nice, and seriously, who comes to Paris to stay in their hotel room?  I had everything I needed -- a beautiful bathroom, a comfortable bed and air conditioning.  I was a happy girl.  

As soon as I arrived on Sunday afternoon, I dropped my bags in my room, took all my travel stuff out of my bag and headed out the door.  It was a glorious sunny, Sunday afternoon and I wanted to see... well, everything.  

In hindsight, I think one of my favorite things in Paris was walking along the quais.  Whether they were crowded or deserted, at street-level or the walkways a few feet above water-level, I really liked walking along the river.  At street level, there were vendors with stalls selling souvenirs, post-cards, used books and art prints ~ original and prints.  There were bicyclists, tourists, people trying to get to work and yes, gypsies trying to get you to make donations to "whatever".  

As soon as I walked out of my hotel, I walked up to the river and crossed the Pont des Arts, a walking bridge that is known for having couples put padlocks on the bridge with their names on it.  As you can guess, the padlocks are left for a little while and then removed.  I saw the workers doing that every time I crossed the bridge.  One of the first things I saw was the Musee d'Orsay.  

I was able to see the Musee later in the week.  In addition to the many beautiful Impressionist paintings on regular display, there was a special exhibit by Edouard Manet.  I'm sorry to say "no photos allowed" inside.  

I took a few pictures but mostly I walked.  It was a beautiful, warm, sunny afternoon so I walked along the river down to the Place de la Concorde.  From there I walked down the Avenue des Champs Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe, and then over the the Rue de Faubourg Saint-Honore.  I confess that it was a lot of fun to walk down that street and see all the shops but no, I wasn't even tempted to do any shopping.  Really... do I look like a Jimmy Choo kind of girl to you?

I walked down the Rue Saint-Honore and then cut over to the Louvre, where I crossed back over the river at the Pont des Arts.  Using my trusty tourist map ~ which I later replaced with a terrific mini Plan de Paris ~ I walked down the Rue de l'Universite.  Past the Assemblee Nationale and the very serious looking young man standing guard to the Invalides... okay, I was finally tired.  And while I could see my ultimate destination, I wasn't sure how far I had to go to walk there... so I decided to try the Metro.  My first station -- Invalides.

After figuring out the ticket machine and purchasing a carnet of tickets -- I knew that it was a savings to buy the 10-pack of tickets, especially if you knew you would be riding the Metro again... which I was -- I rode the Metro all of two stations to the Ecole Militaire stop.  If I had figured out the map a little sooner, I could have caught a different train right to the Champ de Mars.  Next time, right?

But if I had gotten off at that station, this wouldn't have been my first up-closer view of the Tour Eiffel.  

Just as it is with any city with an iconic landmark, seeing the Eiffel Tower gave me goosebumps.  It meant that I really was in Paris.  Paris, France.  Not Paris, Texas, and not at the Paris Casino in Las Vegas -- though that is kind of fun.  

Call me odd but this is my favorite sort of Eiffel Tower picture so humor me.  

I have to tell you that the best advice I got was to buy my ticket for the Eiffel Tower ahead of time.  Pick a day and time and get the ticket online.  I optimistically picked 6:30 pm on Sunday afternoon, and then didn't get there until 7:00 pm.  I thought it likely that they wouldn't let me use the ticket since I was quite late but it wasn't a problem.  I think it might have been a problem for the hundreds of people waiting in line when I was able to just walk right up and bypass everybody.  Seriously.  There were hundreds of people waiting in line at the three "pillars" that were open, but I was led to a different entry, one that took me right to the front of the line waiting for the elevator to go up.   

I will tell you that while I don't have a problem with heights, I wasn't a huge fan of that elevator ride.  As long as I was looking at the floor or the ceiling, I was fine.  Looking straight out as we rushed upward... not so much.

Looking east toward Paris, the direction I had come from.  This picture and the next few are from the 2nd Level.

Sadly, the advance purchase ticket doesn't keep you from having to wait in line for the elevator ride to the Summit.  Though again, it was a beautiful, sunny Sunday in Paris and I was at the Eiffel Tower.  I would have waited for hours.  

 

I'm sorry.  I couldn't resist.  I held my camera out through the grating on the top floor of the Summit level for a "looking down" view.  

And no, this sort of view doesn't bother me.  Just glass elevators... I could never have ridden the Wonka-vator.    

After the Eiffel Tower, I took a bus to Notre Dame for no other reason than I didn't want to go back to the hotel just yet... even though it was almost 9:00 pm.

From there, I thought I was walking back to my hotel but I think I thought I was further down the river than I was because I walked past my hotel and found myself outside the Musee d'Orsay.   

Okay.  I admit it.  I got a little lost.  

Probably on purpose.  

I'll tell you more about Paris tomorrow but I did want to share some pictures of the inside, especially of the breakfast room.  

This is looking down the stairs from the 4th floor where my room was located.

This is the view from the 1st floor landing down to the lobby.  The hotel has five floors of rooms and a funny little elevator that holds either two people or one person with luggage.  Except that there are more than five floors... this is the downstairs Salon de Petit Desjuner... or rather the way there.

 

Each morning, the hotel served a lovely "continental" style breakfast buffet.  Fresh fruit, two kinds of fresh-squeezed juice, yogurt, sliced ham, two kinds of French cheese and a choice of cereals with fruit compote and/or milk.  There were also baguettes, various nut and fruit breads, fresh hot croissants and some kind of sweet roll.  If you wanted coffee, tea or espresso, that was brought to your table by the attendant.  

And not to worry... I plan on doing a post just about some of the food in France and Paris.  

I went to this patisserie... a couple of them, actually.

I must have at least 50 pictures of pastries.

Until tomorrow.