Automne

Autumn is my favorite season. Maybe it’s because I associate it with fresh starts, but every autumn as the weather starts to change I feel as happy as ever and have a renewed sense of ambition. The French refer to it as the ‘rentrée’. It’s the end of summer vacations and back to school. For me, it’s the scent of the air, the fresh crispness, the changing colors. I love slipping on a sweater and a cozy scarf and heading outside.

Autumn in Paris is delicious. The colors, the crispness, and the scent in the air. It’s decidedly my favorite time of year in Paris. It’s the perfect time to to sit outside at a café, under the warmth of a heater and have a ‘chocolat chaud’ and enjoy the fresh air. The produce in the markets start to change, and there is an abundance of beautiful squash, delicate earthy mushrooms, and  juicy apples and pears, not to mention stunning flowers.

These gorgeous dahlias my sweet husband brought home for me certainly encapsulate the colors of autumn I love so much.

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Café crème

Living in Paris certainly has it’s perks. One of my favorite things to do is sit in a café and people watch in the morning over a cafe creme. Even better that Lily can come along. She does her own people watching and certainly attracts her share of attention. She’s becoming quite the little Parisienne.

It’s lovely to see people sitting, reading taking a break from their hectic lives and lingering over a coffee, or catching up with friends. Enjoying life is certainly something the French do well. A girl can get used to this!

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Never cheat….

On your hairdresser.

It’s been a while since I posted, but a lesson learned seemed like the appropriate time to start again. There is so much to catch up on after a quick trip to NY and a delightful summer holiday in the south of France. I will eventually get around to writing about our trip, perhaps when its a bit colder and I’m desperately missing the sun.

Back to cheating on your hairdresser…. HUGE MISTAKE. Why, when I already had found a lovely, slightly quirky, and perfectly good hairdresser (who happens to sport a handlebar mustache), would I venture elsewhere? I thought that mine seemed a bit trop cher, I could find one equally good, a bit less trendy, and get the same cut. And I wasn’t trying somewhere random – it was recommended by someone living here a long time, and as long as I stuck to my cut and was armed with photos (and improved French) what could go wrong? Plenty. I had gotten very lucky when I found my hairdresser, on my first attempt to get a desperately needed haircut in France. I should have just been happy and thankful it hadn’t been a disaster, and that he had given me some of the best cuts I’ve ever had. But couldn’t someone else do the same and possible for a bit less? No. They couldn’t. My first clue should have been that the ‘mistress hairdresser’ was a woman. Men always cut my hair better. I am now stuck with what is the second worst haircut I have ever had. I initially thought it was the worst, but  upon thinking, I remember that trip to the hairdresser when I was 17, the day before our Senior photos that left me running of the stairs of my parents house in tears, sticking my head under the faucet. So it wasn’t quite that bad, but bad enough. There were no tears, and I’m very aware that it will grow back, and I can just about keep my hair pulled back until it grows. I think the worst part is that I know have to walk very sheepishly past my normal hairdresser, which happens to be on the street we live, everyday. It is the route to the market, many shops, and the way Lily likes to walk…there is no avoiding it. I can’t help but try to stay fixated on my phone as I pass, making sure to cross over to the other side of the street, hoping he doesn’t see me, because quite frankly, I cheated. That, and it only ended up being about 8 euros less.

Food, glorious food

The food in France is incroyable. The French love their food and wine and meals are an experience. I can think of no where I am more well suited. There is so much to be discovered. As much as I adore cooking, and the markets are absolutely wonderful, its also lovely to go out and experience the wealth of restaurants, brasseries, bistros and cafes that Paris has to offer.

In attempt to keep track of the numerous and simply divine places we’ve eaten or had a drink in Paris, and to keep them firmly in memory, I thought it was about time I wrote some of them down. Also helpful for when friends visit or ask for a recommendation since I never seem to remember them.

One of our favorites is Pétrus (12, place du Maréchal Juin – Paris 17ème). Its upscale, traditional french in a modern brasserie. The atmosphere isn’t particularly charming in my opinion, but the food is always incredible and the service is fantastic. It is a bit on the pricier side (58.00 € on average for three-courses), but never disappoints. I particularly love the seafood, oysters to start when they are available and the cod) and the steak is the best we’ve had in Paris. The peppercorn sauce is moorish, as are the crisp frites. You also don’t want to miss the mille-feuille, their speciality. Although it is tempting to finish every last delicious bite, it is tremendous, so it is definitely one to share. The tarte citron, as well as the Mi-cuit au chocolat Guananja are also divine. They are always happy to split desserts for you, which is especially helpful if the person you’re with doesn’t like ‘sharing’ dessert, or if you just can’t make up your mind!

Duck and lingonberry sauce

When I asked my husband what his favorite thing about being married was, he (half) joked ‘the food’. With the wealth of markets, there are wonderful fresh ingredients readily available, so I’m continually trying new things…and sometimes revisiting old favorites. This was a new recipe that has quickly become one of our favorites, especially with all the duck readily available here. The sauce and the duck is a prefect combination. I adapted it from a recipe I found on Epicurious, and now we have it on a fairly regular basis. It’s pretty easy, although it can be a bit messy and is sure to please!
Serves 2 with a generous amount of sauce. 
Ingredients:
2 duck breasts
         1/2 cup dry red wine
         7 oz low-salt chicken broth
         7 oz low-salt beef broth
         2 fresh thyme sprigs
         1 bay leaf
         3/4 tsp butter or substitute, room temperature
         3/4 tsp flour
         1/4 cup lingonberry preserves
       
For the sauce:
Bring wine, chicken broth, beef broth, thyme sprigs, and bay leaf to boil in heavy large saucepan. Boil until reduced to 1 cup, about 35 minutes. Mix butter and flour in small bowl to blend. Whisk butter-flour mixture into broth. Simmer until slightly thickened, about 2 minutes. Stir in lingonberry preserves; simmer 1 minute. Remove thyme sprigs and bay leaf. (Sauce can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and refrigerate. Rewarm before serving.)
Prepare barbecue (medium-high heat). Preheat oven to 450°F (230°C). Score skin of duck breasts in crisscross pattern (do not cut through to meat). Sprinkle duck with salt and pepper. Heat heavy large ovenproof skillet over high heat. Add duck breasts, skin side down, to dry skillet. Reduce heat to medium and cook until skin is golden brown, about 7 minutes. Turn duck over and transfer skillet to oven; roast to desired doneness, about 5 minutes for medium-rare. Using tongs, transfer duck to cutting board; tent with foil. 
I like to serve it over creamy polenta with a side of haricot verts. 



Le petit chiot

We have a new addition! A sweet little miniature English Cream daschund, Lily. It took us a while to name her and find something that worked, but finally, the poor little thing has a name! She is getting bigger by the day!

When we first got her, she was quiet and timid and would cautiously follow me around. She was so fragile, weighing only 1kg (2 lbs 2oz), she felt breakable.

Now she is certainly more energetic and gets into everything, especially the laundry. But is always happy to climb in your lap for a cuddle. 

It is really impossible to resist this sweet little face. She is getting so big so fast and has such a personality. She’s especially good at the “how could you possibly be mad at me?” face. Or maybe we’re just suckers.

Première entreprise à Champagne

Champagne is only about a 2 hour drive from Paris. Lucky us! So, with my parents in tow, off we went to explore what this wonderful region had to offer in the unusually chilly March weather. And oh was it worth it. We started off in Reims which is the main city where all the major Champagne houses are located. We arrived ready to taste some world famous bubbly, only to find a rather deserted city. Although we’d done our research, and yes you could visit on Sundays, it turns out, we arrived around lunchtime when they had all closed for lunch. We didn’t exactly get the early morning start we had planned on. 

In Champagne without champagne. What do to? We decided to follow the ‘Champagne route’. Although there are some sides we found ourselves driving through the country side, trying to figure out where to go. It was a lovely drive, a nice change from Reims and a nice break from Paris. Long, winding roads alongside fields with tidy rows of vines, leading to tiny passages, so narrow at points you could touch a building if you put your hand out of the window.  Absolutely charming. Amazingly, tucked behind the walls are champagne producers. 

We kept seeing one particular sign, but weren’t really sure what it was for. Mom chiming in from the backseat – ‘there it is again, read it, follow it!’ Problem being, the sign didn’t actually say much. Was it a producer, a location, an event? No arrows, no indication of what it was, where exactly it was or how to get there. So we kept driving. Another sign, and then another. Finally, a sign with the date one it….it’s today! Now to find it. As luck would have it, the signs eventually had an arrow and we found ourselves down a small road that eventually turned to dirt. We parked. Little did we know we had just stumbled on a true gem. 

We approached what seemed like someones home, with a bunch of people standing around chatting – they all seemingly knew each other. Truly feeling like outsiders, we ventured a bit further, only to realize we had stumbled on a tasting event. Lucky us! Oh the excitement. It was hosted by the champagne maker, who promptly came over to greet us, and asked if we would like to taste his champagne. Bien sûr! We tasted about 6 of his divine champagnes and Monsieur explained his family’s champagne, how he made it, and the differences in each. All in French, mind you. Somehow, I understood and began translating for my parents. Who knew I actually did know some French now!? We all came to the conclusion that this was some of the best champagne we had ever tasted…yes, including Moet, Veuve, Nicolas Feuillatte (my previous personal favorite), or even Dom. 

Every month or so, Monsieur and other producers in the area get together and host tasting events, inviting producers from other areas. There were wines from Bordeaux and Provence, oysters, escargot, and fresh smoked salmon, fresh bread, foie gras and even jams. Monsieur invited us to visit the other distributors and have a picnic if we’d like…and so we did. They had set up tables on the grass and in the kitchen, providing utensils and anything else you might need – including a corkscrew! So there in the middle of what seemed like nowhere, we had ourselves a little French feast. Perfect. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen my dad in such good spirits! He was like a little kid in a candy store. 

Rather reluctantly, after we’d had our fill, we carried on to explore a bit more, trying to find a few more producers who might still be open. It really is best to make appointments, but we decided to try our luck. We were invited into a woman’s kitchen, where she went to the fridge and opened a fresh bottle for us to try. We bought a bottle and were on our way again.We found a couple more places, but none of the champagne was nearly as good as the first. Contently, with bottles clinking in the trunk, we made our way back to Paris. 

What is there not to love about France?

Chez nous

Moving is stressful. No doubt about it. Throw a new country, new marriage, and starting from scratch into the mix and its a whole new adventure. We’ve had things scattered about for years, New York, North Carolina, Milwaukee and Oxford without a home to call our own. Finally, post-wedding, it was move time. And consolidate. The whole move was a bit of a challenge (Oxford-London-Paris) and finding the right apartment in Paris was no small feat. Between waiting on visas and finding somewhere to live, we were in limbo in London for a while. But we did it and found an apartment in Paris that we adore. Completely. A place of our own. Living in the same country. Together. Now….about filling it…

We opted for an ‘unfurnished’ place because all of the furnished ones were furnished to the point they even had plates and utensils. (Where on earth would all my lovely Le Creuset go?) Not to mention they all felt like someone else’s home. So, unfurnished it was. However, ‘unfurnished’ in Paris doesn’t just mean without furniture. No, we had to install an entire kitchen…all that we started with was a sink! 

Luckily, we’re just about there now and have created our perfect home…we’ll worth the effort!  Our next home will certainly have a lot to live up to. C’est la vie!


What makes it all even better is all the little adventures we had along the way…exploring les Puces (antique furniture market), Drouot (auction house), the hardware store, and even Ikea, all the while having to improve our rather non-existant French. Not to mention driving around Paris (a feat in and of itself) with furniture protruding from the car. I swore we would get pulled over and would be unable to explain ourselves! Luckily, it seems, no one gets pulled over in Paris… or so we’ve yet to see.

I was so thrilled we even found a home for my ‘Shutters’, a piece of artwork that my poor parents have been storing for the last decade or so in hopes that they would one day find a home!

And of course, I can’t not forget the lovely kitchen my handy husband built for me! 

That’s where we are right now. With all the little treasures to be found in Paris, I’m sure we’ll be making a few additions along the way.