Paris in the early days

I’ve been meaning to write a post for some time now – lots has been happening, lots of people are coming through, life is moving apace, never mind all the work I have to do despite all the holidays in May. In this post I’ll write about Becky and Ethan’s visit a couple of weeks ago, in the next about my latest news.

Ethan had a conference in Amsterdam, an excellent opportunity for a little European trip. (Those systems guys have it the best: loads of grant money, cool sponsored trips, articles in Wired, conferences in the Dominican Republic in February. I do get to go to Miami Beach, but it’s in June; not as bad as Rutgers in August, but if it’s going to be Florida, it should be cold back home.) He and Becky arrived Friday night around 8 pm and we met up with my friends Guillaume and Jan at Point Ephémère, my new favorite club in Paris. We actually had kind of a disastrous experience with the waitress, where a frustrating series of missteps culminated in us getting charged for both the incorrect dish brought and the dish ordered that never came. This caused Guillaume (as kind and calm a person as you will ever encounter) to actually lose his temper. I caught “C’est incroyable!” but the rapid French that followed was way beyond me.

In any case, the food was good and cheap, so we will pardon the waitress. At around 11 pm, we entered the club, planning to hear the band Love Is All – but the club was empty, everyone outside smoking cigarettes, and entry was free. Turns out that when they say 8 here, they mean 8, and when there are 3 bands, they each go on for about 45 minutes apiece. Coming from Seattle, where the headliner often starts around midnight, this is very odd indeed. I have to confess that I was pleased. Love Is All is a little noisy for my taste, so I made better use of my 12 euros by buying reasonably priced beer.

Meanwhile the music was fantastic. PB&J, Vampire Weekend, Franz Ferdinand, Mates of State (I think – I could never figure out why I knew one song), and best of all, everyone dancing! Despite the wonderful music scene in Seattle, I always found it tragically bizarre that no one dances. Jess and I would often get dirty looks, bouncing around to Helio Sequence or Okkervil River. But these songs are so danceable, I just can’t understand how anyone can stand there, barely nodding to the beat. It’s not that the French are better dancers than Americans, but they are unselfconscious. And there seems to be an understanding that this is what’s expected at a club.

A great night all in all – I would have stayed longer, but Becky and Ethan were tired after a long week, and indeed ended up sleeping till after 11 the next morning. We went to the market at Rue Mouffetard then to the Seine and had a lovely picnic of bread, cheese, avocado, dates, strawberries, and saucisse, marred only by the fact that it started pouring. Then to Shakespeare and Company, where I realized that I really ought to read some classic French literature (more on that in another post). And finally back home, to prepare for our four hour dinner at the Hidden Kitchen.

The Hidden Kitchen is a private supper club run by Seattlites Braden and Laura, out of their gorgeous flat in the first arrondisement. There is space for 12, and I’m not sure it’s exactly legal (especially in regulation-happy Paris), so shhhh. (Seeing as Clotilde Dusoulier has written about it on her blog, I don’t think it’s a very big secret.) We met our fellow diners while being served an apertif (some kind of orange-infused champagne). Then the meal – 10 courses, paired with 7 glasses of wine, 4 hours of interesting conversation with expats and visitors, and rice krispie treats to end the meal. It was really spectacular; there was an especially delicate poached egg dish that we agreed was our favorite of the night. I also got some inside info on how to watch streaming American TV here (Hulu and the regular broadcasters are blocked, since they make so much money rebroadcasting dubbed versions).

We spent the next day visiting some fantastic places to eat from Clotilde’s book: Blé Sucre, a lovely bakery in the 12th; the nearby Marché d’Aligre; L’As du Fallafel in the Marais; Le Loir dans la Théière, also in the Marais and known for incredibly delicious lemon meringue tarts; and finally, for dinner, a lovely small crêperie in Montparnasse called Ti Jos. Ethan and I also ate at Le Pre Verre, which was fantastic, and has quite a good deal for lunch; as it is very close to work, I have some hope of convincing my colleagues to forsake the school cafeteria one of these fine spring days. Clotilde’s book is now my bible – she has yet to steer me wrong in my eternal quest for good restaurants at reasonable prices.

It was an action-packed trip; funny how these incredibly fun visits often leave me feeling in need of a vacation (just in time to get back to work). Nonetheless, my schedule is falling into place, as is French, frisbee, work, and friends – more on that when I get some time for another post.

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