Falling for Autumn

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It’s been a long while since I’ve experienced the season of fall properly.   The first signs of fall along the southern coasts of Texas is when HEB or Kroger unloads the pumpkins and even then it’s hard to get into the spirit when temperatures are still 80 degrees or above.  Living along the latitude lines that actually experience seasonal changes is amazing.  It brings back memories of my childhood living in the country in central Texas long before climate change was discussed by political parties or at the dinner table.  It was when Texas actually experienced seasons–or at least we seemed to.

The Chef and I have been visiting the Jardin du Luxembourg everyday to witness the fast transformation from summer into fall  that is happening all around us.  To our amazement, about mid August the trees slowly began casting off their leaves.  Do they know something we don’t?  It would seem as such.

The Chef and I watch the Parisians, capture moments with photos and stroll through the fallen leaves–like moths drawn to the light–we can’t get enough.  The cool breezes that send orange, yellow and brown leaves tumbling across our toes is making us fall in love with…Fall! Or as they say here…Autumn.    You can see for yourself how one can become completely smitten…

 

 

 

Urban Cowgirl in Paris

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In a city full of fashion (home of haute couture) the last thing I would ever have dreamed about is a pair of jeans…especially jeans made for cowboys and girls back home, not that I have something against them it’s just I stopped wearing western wear circa 1996.  Maybe I’ve got a little homesickness going on or just a sense of Texas pride running through my veins, but while strolling about I’ve  seen some pretty hip Parisians sporting the Wrangler brand.  Yes, that’s right Wranglers!  Who knew they were international?  So, the Chef and I went on hunt to find these jeans because they don’t look like the ones you’ll find at Cavenders or any western wear store in the states.  In fact, while on my hunt I even called the corporate headquarters in the US to see if I could buy them back home–nope.  They are specific to Europe and only Europe!  Interesting, but I don’t understand why.  Maybe someone could explain.

After doing a little research, this is what I found when comparing the US and European ads for Wrangler.  In (Europe) Paris Wrangler is trying to go for your inner wildlife with a campaign called “We Are Animals” which was released in 2009.  Parisians have been known to act like animals in the past (Revolution) so maybe this will hit that nerve, weird, but whatever sells I guess go for it.

 

 

 

Then you have the opposite for the US market and Wrangler.  It’s all about football, family, rodeo and NASCAR…a causal, relaxed lifestyle.  No hiding in the trees, drinking from a pond or deer in the headlights here.  That would scare the US consumers to the core.

 

 

 

 

And finally–the Wranglers I purchased–a small challenge to find but worth the hunt!  The Chef had no luck, as all the men’s stores were currently out of stock or didn’t carry them.  No worries on me finding that “inner animal”–you won’t see me belly sliding into the Seine or crawling through the Bois de Boulogne with these babies on…at 105 euro a pair they aren’t getting anywhere near mud or stinky water!

 

 

So which do you like?  European Wrangler or US Wrangler? I personally like the European Wrangler jeans over the US, but the ads are a little startling.  They remind me of a Twilight meets The Animal with Rob Schneider…but that’s my take on it.

Where Do You Dine?

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It’s been some time since the Chef had time to throw his culinary flare around the kitchen with his work schedule and such.  Now that things have simmered down just a bit we had the chance to take in the city and work up an appetite.  Yesterday we opted for a food history/culinary sort of day.  After our regular cereal, milk and raspberries (we’re trying not to always eat like the French–helps the waist line) we headed out the door for the Louvre—set on seeing the royal apartments of Napoleon III—going back to the 19th century.  Sure enough there they were like I remembered—full of splendor, pomp and dripping with luxury.  What I had not remembered was the dining table, fit for a King no less.  Can you imagine having this many guests at once?  I would have hated to have been the dishwasher here!

 

Then we moseyed on over to the 14th century and toured the Conciergerie.  My Chef didn’t realize that the main hall (“La salle des gens d’armes” ) in which we stood was once used to feed the two thousand people that serviced Louis IX of France during the 13th century! The history in this city is absolutely mind-blowing.

With all the talk of dining halls it was going on afternoon and our stomachs were telling us to pull over to the nearest bistro or café.  However, that’s a lot easier said than done—well at least to us.  Most places around these areas are tourist traps (unless you get off the beaten track a bit) and you can’t leave without blowing 50 euro easy.  Since we had more pavements to pound and didn’t want to be held up by the regular hour or two lunches, we decided on the all American favorite.  Yep, McDonalds! Yes, first time ever eating a Big Mac in France (can’t believe I just wrote that) I don’t even remember the last time I ate one in the US!!  I’m a What-a-Burger kind of girl anyway.  The whole experience of McDonalds in Paris is worth doing at least once.  A complete madhouse!  There must have been 50 people working in the back because all I remember is ordering and within lightening speed our food was there and we were out.  Out because there was no way we could eat there—felt like we were amongst Louis IX 2,000 castle workers—if you know what I mean.  So we ate our American delights under the comforts of a really beautiful tree in a really pretty park and enjoyed every last greasy bite of it!

 

After our gorge on the American addiction we strolled a bit more—over to the crypts of Notre Dame, around the Latin Quarter finally making our way back to our neighborhood just in time to do a little grocery shopping.  With the Chef itching to cook he turned his inspiration to the weekend we just spent in the seaside city of Boulogne.  Our dear friend’s mother gave us two bottles of the famous “soupe de poissons” that’s made in Boulogne.  Naturally the Chef had a seafood dinner on the mind.  We gathered what we needed at our local grocer, came home and he worked his magic to prepare a fish soup complete with Dorado, mussels, shrimp, sautéed onions and fennel.  Garnished with chives.  It was killer as usual.

 

 

 

Naturally dessert had to follow so we walked towards the Luxembourg gardens and popped into Amorinos for an ice cream.  Our eating day ended with a view of the Luxembourg gardens and a bee slurping up the remnants of my mango and citrus gelato while I frolicked in the forbidden grass (no laying, running or stepping on it).  More adventures to come in the next few days!

 

The Tale of the Deux Weddings

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Have you ever been to 2 weddings in the same day.  If you’re a wedding crasher then probably…If you live in France then more than likely—yes!

This weekend the Chef and I made our way to the extremely historic northern city of Boulogne sur Mer for the weddings (No that isn’t a typo, “weddings” –plural form is correct) of our dear French friends Jean-Luc and Elyse (now residents of Texas).  Boulogne has a history that’s right up my alley—it’s not only a medieval city with a fortified rempart in the middle of town complete with drawbridges and motes, but it’s also the city which my dearest Napoleon amassed his  La Grande Armée in 1805 to invade England and somehow he left his hat!   This historically rich beachside city is also the childhood home to my dear friend Elyse and thus became the backdrop to an enchanting weekend.

Cathedral dome in the medieval part of the city

Why “weddings” —Since 1792 (French Revolution years) the act of marriage has had nothing to do with religion —secularized.  It was stated by the National Convention in 1793 that  “Marriage is an agreement by which man and woman commit themselves under the authority of the law, to live together, to feed and raise children are born of their union.”   Now, some may find city hall to be their choice place for a wedding, others however, like my devote Catholic friends wanted both…the civil service and the Church service.  It also seems that the town hall is only open for wedding services on Saturday, which means there’s an assembly line of sorts when it comes to weddings.  As the Chef and I made our way up to the city hall we saw dozens of cars decorated with wedding regalia.  At first we thought my goodness all these people are here for their wedding—wow!  No, not the case.  There were at least 5-10 weddings planned for that day.  Bride after bride and her entourage of guests would make their way one after the other into the building and then exit.  Our wedding service was at 2:30 and we arrived a little early so we got a good show of wedding festivities.  Rather interesting when you’re not used to it!

Hotel de Ville--City Hall

Once my beautiful friend Elyse arrived with her beau, wedding 1 began—we all filed into a really formal room lined with paintings of French historical figures with their piercing glorified stares.  Their immediate family took their places in these rather impressive chairs that were situated around a grand desk.  The mayor (who wasn’t present when we arrived) got the only chair that was placed behind the huge desk.  Once he arrived decked out in a suit and the French tricolor sash the ceremony began—lasted only 30 minutes and then it was on to wedding 2.

Civil Marriage

Getting to the church—this part of the story is the most comical.  Since we don’t drive in France we had to hitch a ride with someone (we sat in the back and took in the experience).  That someone was the priest (Father Ted) and his French friend Jeanne Marie—both live in Texas and were incredibly fun to be with.  Armed with a French speaking GPS we made our way beyond the fortified Boulogne and out into the rest of the city with only the name of the church—no address, they left that up to the French GPS.  Poor Father  had never seen the church he was about to perform the wedding in!  After a few circles around a circular turn-around—(those are super crazy, thank goodness we don’t have them in the US—The French are used to them though) Father Ted jumped out of the car chased down 2 elderly women who were walking through a cemetery to ask for directions, which only led us to a dead end road, so he asked another passerby.  Poor Father Ted…we really wanted to help but didn’t know how.  Finally, we arrived to the quaint church with time to spare…God was watching over his faithful servant.

After the traditional Catholic wedding, complete with mass and communion we made our way once again with Father Ted and Jeanne Marie to the reception area.  This time there was no need for the GPS, as they were staying in a hotel directly across from where the reception was being held.  We even had enough time for them to show us the cute resort town nearby!

A little while later we arrived in time for aperitifs (champagne, wine and tasty finger foods) in the garden of the hotel.  However, that was just the beginning— we were in for a 5 course meal once inside! After 3 flutes of champagne I completely lost track of time.  We had the best seats—right next to the bride and groom of course!  It became a blur after the foie gras, because in between a few courses there was dancing, wine and more dancing–lots of it.  I have to admit—being 5,000 miles away from home and hit with tunes like Rascal Flats, Lady Antebellum and Kenny Chesney (that’s their favorite music) the ole heart began to ache for Texas.  Then I remembered it’s 100+ degrees there and the foie gras I just ate would have melted through the fork before it hit my tongue! Snap out of it Elissa!

foie gras with blackberry jelly on top

red snapper in a crepe purse

veal, potatoes, green beans wrapped in bacon with a cream sauce

3 different cheeses with salad

pieces of the cake

Once the cheese plate came I was beyond full, but tried with all my might to eat some.  My main goal was to leave enough room for the 2 wedding cakes (yes another thing that came in 2, no grooms cake here) I had been hearing about it since January!  I think about 1am they finally came out.  I didn’t have room, but ate it anyway.  You only live once in France, right?  I’ve never seen a wedding cake with firework sparklers (except on the Marie Antoinette movie) it was fantastic!  Jean-Luc and Elyse chose the traditional French wedding cake call a croquembouche or “piece montee.” The best way to describe it in American terms—they are like little round cream filled doughnuts ( but more bread like than doughnuts) drizzled with caramel and piled up like a pyramid.  More dancing followed the cake and then—just when I thought the food was done—my favorite little deserts of all time came out—MACARONS along with fruit jellied candies that were ridiculously cute! At this point I was beyond full and couldn’t even force it…I thought about dumping the entire plate in my purse but figured it was really tacky and after the million or so calories I had just ingested it was best not to.  I think we finally made it back to the hotel—via a good friend of Elyse who didn’t need a GPS—about  3:30 am.

The entire wedding party, family and friends–everyone made us “Americans” feel so very welcome—even though the language got in the way it didn’t matter.    It was truly an unforgettable wedding and weekend.  Seeing the Cliffs of Dover, Napoleon’s real military hat, the medieval city, getting a present from one of Boulogne’s resident seagulls (think about it…not a nice present either) and being immersed in the culture that fascinates the both of us was,  truly a once in a lifetime experience.  Thank you Jean-Luc and Elyse…we are very thankful to have been included in your deux weddings*!

Father Ted, Evelyn (Elyse's Mommy), Jean Luc, Elyse, me, Matt and Serge (Elyse's Daddy) love how he is decked out in a Houston Texan's jersey!

A Trip to a Bygone Era for Only a Euro…

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Discoveries are made each day in Paris.  A friend of mine who has lived in Paris for the past seven years said she discovers something new each day.  I have a long way to go for sure!   Over the course of a month I’ve had many but today was worth mentioning.  Please excuse if I sound naïve when I say Auguste Rodin was someone I had little knowledge of before moving to Paris.  Unless you’ve studied art or have a great interest in it, you may not know who he was—like me!  Now I have at some point in my life come across his works, but before today I would not have been able to match his name to any of his work.  Art just isn’t in my repertoire.  History yes, art—not really.  Ask me about a French King or Queen and I can tell you all sorts of information—a piece of art–your guess is as good as mine!

My discovery– Musée Auguste Rodin which is housed in the architecturally splendid Hôtel Biron, built (1727-1732).  This Paris “country house” sparked my interest because of its history, not because of the world-renowned artist that just happened to call it home for a time in the early 1900s.  His work is very fascinating and worth seeing if one is interested in rather large or small and sometimes bizarre, intimidating and thought-provoking sculptures.  Otherwise go for the scenery and the architecture.  Much of Hôtel Biron‘s interior furnishings disappeared over time or were sold off by previous owners, so the inside is a little bare if you don’t consider the sculptures a part of the decor.

So why am I intrigued?  Hôtel Biron has a history that dates back to a period long since passed. It’s one of my most favorite periods in time.  Last fall I spent 16 weeks discussing, researching and contemplating its impact to human history.  It’s a era in which I wish I had lived (maybe I have and that’s why I’m so drawn to it..oooh now that’s intriguing!)—the Age of Enlightenment.  Naturally, when I discovered Hôtel Biron was an actual “house” with a garden, a rather large attached garden in the center of Paris, I pounced on the opportunity to experience and see this abnormality.    Paris over the centuries has pretty much gobbled up its mansions and turned them into government offices, museums, hotels, or demolished them all together.  Others have been incorporated into apartments which line the streets of Paris.  A few still remain with their gardens intact—like Carnavalet and Hotel Soubise.  Other beauties I seek to experience.

Thinking Man...makes my head hurt to "think" how long he's been "thinking" 😉

If you would like to leave reality for a few hours and imagine yourself a princess (like I always do) or prince, for only a euro you can sit all day with the golden Dôme of the Invalides looming through the trees, take in the fragrant roses, babbling fountains and wondering pigeons to admire an era that stands still in the heart of Paris.