Though we were among those enjoying Paris last night until midnight, at 9AM, Martha, Jerry and I walk the few blocks from my flat to Place des Vosges. We are greeted by 'my' waitress at Carette Paris; she remembers me from my visit earlier in the week (American, grey hair, aging citizen....etc, etc, etc)
A few days prior, I tried to describe the Chocolat Chaud to Martha, but not until I poured the steaming hot, molten liquid into her rosebud china teacup did she understand. I believe her words, after she drank her hot chocolate (and scraped the bottom of her cup with a spoon) went something like this: "can I lick the cup?" I understand her question, and no--we didn't lick the cups...but we could have....
Our French pastry breakfast was just as one would expect - - buttery and flakey and crispy and decedent. We found ourselves gathering the paper thin pastry scraps onto our spoon, not wasting a morsel. Jerry's chocolate eclair was glazed with chocolate and filled with a chocolate mousse. Martha's pretzle (nothing like our pretzles) was made of layers and layers of flakey pastry. My apple tart was flakey pastry shaped long and thin and filled with an apple goodness that oozed with each cut of the fork. We ended our meal with a selection of French macarons.
Click HERE for a short review of Carette by one of their many, many patrons.
After breakfast, I walked once again among the many shops along neighboring streets. One last stroll to smell the cheese and the fish and the roasting chickens and the baking bread. One last opportunity to gaze into the store windows sporting purses and shoes and boots fashionably displayed to draw the viewer into the store. One last time to admire the rows and rows of colorful macarons. One last time to sit outdoors at a corner cafe and sip hot tea and watch Paris move.
We allowed time for computer updates, then made plans for dinner and a late evening cruise on the Seine.
Our dinner at Cafe des Musees, recommended by a friend as an establishment frequented by Parisians, was an excellant choice. Earlier in the day we watched as fresh produce was delivered to the restaurant. The eggplant (aubergine) I saw delivered on the street in the morning was prepared and served to Martha that evening in her dish of eggplant and lamb, along with cold couscous topped with mint leaves. Jerry dined on grouse, and I enjoyed pork glazed in something delicious and topped with slightly crisp sage leaves.
Half of the experience of Paris is to order something from the menu, having no idea how the dish is prepared nor the ingredients therein. The flavor combinations are unique, while taunting the taste buds and causing one to want more and more and more... savory and sweet equally....
A Metro ride to Trocadeor...and all of a sudden....Eiffel!
Lights glowing yellow against the night sky.
Spire pointed toward heaven.
Water fountains spraying in choreographed dance.
Carousel horses circling.
I could feel my heart beating and all I could think was, "oh....oh...how beautiful..."
Arm in arm, we descended the steps toward the Seine. The river tour offered another viewing perspective of the beautiful city. How many pictures of the Eiffel tower does one need....As if trying to capture the moving light of a lighthouse on the ocean, I shot and shot and shot as the blue ray of light on the tip of the Eiffel tower circled the dark evening sky. Buildings were lighted; lovers standing on the bridges above the boat embraced in the warm glow of the light on the bridge. Individuals walked along the shore of the Seine. With every gaze, a postcard of Paris was being painted in my mind.
Notre Dame from the Seine:
I will leave the city soon, and return to TN, USA.
I hear French music playing deep within me.....