Foie gras and Paris!
It’s been a great, much-needed weekend of food, wine, laughs, new friends and new experiences. Just up the street (a 5 minute walk if I’m wearing shoes I need to carefully navigate on cobblestone) from my place is this adorable little place called Osmose. It seats only 12 people at a time. Your waiter is the chef and owner. Two of my new friends, now neighbours, made reservations for Friday night and were kind enough to invite me to join — and thanks to them this will be a go-to place every time I have guests in from out of town.
They suggested I just go with what the owner says to try, which meant me eating things I never really saw myself liking. The entree (appetiser) of the night was foie gras, but he also had an alternative scallops dish for those of us who aren’t fans of the foie. I got those, but Beth Ann said to heck with it and gave the goose liver pate a try, so I tasted a smudge and it really was delicious. The main dish was duck — again not a fave of mine, unless it’s the crispy Asian kind — but I went with it. OMG I didn’t know poultry could be served medium rare, and I didn’t know a bird could taste like steak. It was an amazing meal with little surprises here and there, fantastic wine, and fun times getting to know the owner, chef a little bit. Our reservations began at 6:30; I didn’t roll down the hill back to my place until midnight.
Way too early Saturday morning I had to drag my carcass out of bed to rush to work. For 25 euros all of the staff at the international schools on base had an opportunity to hop on a day-trip bus to Paris. In a little over three hours, I could spend the day eating, drinking, etc. in PARIS. I crawled into that bus with absolutely no idea of what I was going to do, or whom I was going to do it with — other than I was getting out of town for a day and walking the streets of Paris.
A group of new friends lured me into their day by saying they were starting off with champagne at a cafe — win! It’s amazing how quickly a wine hangover and not enough sleep disappears when you’re sipping bubbly on the street.
Then we had lunch at Le Procope, the oldest restaurant in Paris. It’s where the male (thinking women not yet welcome at that time) revolutionaries, philosophers, artists, writers, etc. met and some of its guests included Voltaire, Benjamin Franklin, and Thomas Jefferson — just to name a few. Love that I’m teaching American History and some of the historical figures I’ve made my kids remember sipped and burped right at the same place as I did in Paris. I wonder if they too marvelled at the creme brûlée,
Ignore the wine stains on table (we had a few) and inhale the goodness of this giant brûlée. I should’ve known it was going to be huge when they gave me a soup spoon to eat it with.
Anyone else think of Beauty and the Beast here? I know I’m a terrible teacher since I should be pointing out all the historical amazingness of this place, and I did take it all in, but you aint got time for my geeky side. Just know I loved being here touching the banister so many great minds have leaned on — while wondering what their women counterparts were doing elsewhere.
After lunch it was walk, walk, walk on over to Notre Dame and then the Picasso museum.
It’s funny how the Picasso experience haunts me. While in the museum I was mostly just hot and tired and thinking to myself “dude, why so much dick in your work?” A funny side note: one of the middle school teachers asked us if we saw the penis on the face of his famous painting The Dream. We all did, and she was amazed because for years she’s been having her 8th graders do a replica of this and never noticed the phallus until someone pointed it out to her today. Oh Picasso see what you’ve made good women do!
It’s all I see, plus the naughtiness I think she’s up to.
I honestly don’t get a lot of his work, and as a woman I find the portraits of the women he loved disturbing, BUT some of his paintings pulled me in and stuck with me. His sculptures not so much. The black and white sketches made me want to understand this world of his, but then again I’m thinking the whole point is I’m not supposed to understand. I can’t tell you why his paintings keep coming back to me because … lol like his art I don’t exactly understand it … but his work haunts me. Some of it I found funny and some of it scared me. So, I’m glad I went because now I’ve taken an interest in getting to know what the Internets have to say about him, and for whatever reason it makes me think.
On this trip I did not get to go to all the other museums I want to visit, but that’s okay because it’s just a short train trip away, and some of my new friends said they’d totally do an art weekend with me. I’m a very happy girl!
I’m also procrastinating because instead of walking to the market like I had planned today, I’ve told myself I’m putting together another Ikea thing — my version of Picasso hell minus any sexual play — and I’m here typing to all of you looking at that damn box waiting for me to open.
Okay, gotta go do this thing. Hope you all have had as lovely a weekend as I have. It feels good to have gotten away from the stress of moving and working!