Paris, I love you... especially your food

Paris.  What can I say?  Where do I start?

Let me just say that when I get back to home, I'm watching Paris, je t'aime (seriously, rent it or watch it on Netflix - it's great!), Midnight in Paris, Amelie, in addition to the excessively long list of British movies I'm making.

It took awhile to get to know Paris - we were doing touristy things, because, well, you've got to prioritize when you only have a weekend.  Instead of a blow-by-blow (which would be LONG and probably boring at some point), let's go to the bullet points.  Scroll down for the FOOD.

Also, I'm lazy, so you won't get any fancy emphasis letters from me.

Friday

• Arc de Triomphe
• Champs-Elysees (big, fancy shopping street)
• AMAZING LUNCH
• Eiffel Tower
• The outside of Notre Dame
• Boat ride on the Seine
• Shakespeare & Co. (really famous English bookstore)
• The Louvre

Saturday

• Catacombs
• Latin Quarter (Notre Dame area)
• The Conciergerie
• Saint-Chappelle
• Tour of the Latin Quarter by a Parisian
• The INSIDE of Notre Dame
• Gelato!
• The Opera House & Gallerie Lafayette
• The Eiffel Tower at night

Sunday

• Sacre Coeur for mass!
• Wandered around Montmartre for the rest of the day

Food

Somebody mentioned this weekend that after eating in Paris, no food tastes as good.  I'm really worried that this is going to prove true.

I wish I had taken pictures of our whole lunch on Friday - a salad of bitter greens with thin flakes of Parmesan on a bed of thin meat (prosciutto, maybe?), followed by a plate of chicken & gravy, the creamiest mashed potatoes ever, and a bit of lettuce with pesto.
And then came the creme brulee - oh. my. heavens.  I never want to have creme brulee again, or I fear I would sully my experience.  I had my full plate and half of someone else's, even though I was stuffed.


Saturday's breakfast was a pain au chocolat on the go - a pastry with bits of dark chocolate wrapped in crispy, flaky dough.

 For lunch, we stopped for crepes and coffee.  The crepe was Nutella and banana - the French, they love their Nutella - and the coffee was a cafe au lait, since the regular "coffee" is espresso.  It came with a packet of sugar, and though I usually put a few packets in my coffee, this was perfect with just the one.  Why can't I get coffee like this in Madison?  Maybe I can, but I need to find it.  There's also a creperie in Madison, and I may just have to make that a habit.

 Crepes aren't really filling for long, so we needed a gelato in the afternoon.  We waited in line for about 35 minutes for a treat from the oldest gelato place in the Latin Quarter (maybe all of Paris).  I got a double scoop of praline amaretto and chocolat blanc - white chocolate.  If you can see how firmly I'm holding the cone, you can guess how excited I was to eat it and how much I didn't want to drop gelato into the Seine as I snapped a picture.

Dinner for me was boeuf bourguignon - beef stew - and oh, was it tender.  A friend once made Julia Child's boeuf bourguignon, and I almost want to say it was more flavorful.  But after a day of walking miles and a few hours since that gelato, food just tastes so much better.

I was on my own for Sunday breakfast, and I was able to order "deux pain au chocolat, s'il vous plait".  Yes, I am fairly proud of myself.  No, I have no idea what the lady said back to me.  They were just as delicious.

A few of us wandered in Montmartre until we found a creperie/sandwicherie (no kidding, that was the sign).  I ordered a simple sandwich with chicken, bacon, lettuce, tomato, and mayo.

Good Lord, why can't every sandwich taste like that?  So fresh, perfect bread, just the right blend of flavors.  We sat at the little place for an hour or two, so a strawberry ice cream soon followed.

Paris, I will miss your food.  I will not miss your different language (it's beautiful, just not one that I know), your dirty metro, your panhandlers, your smelly people (they really don't use deodorant often), or my lack of home there.

Coming back to London felt like coming home in so many ways, but the knowledge that I'd be leaving in two days meant that it was a bittersweet return.  I loved my weekend in Paris, but it meant less time in London.  Some decisions are difficult, and will always be difficult.  It is comforting to know that I'm much more likely to return to England than to France... so perhaps this was my one shot at Paris.  And I will certainly remember it!