Eating (247)
Randomness (i.e. Just Because (212))
French (i.e. Language (168))
Wandering (113)
and
The weather and work (105 and 103)
That sounds about right. Those are my label numbers; what I’ve written about on this blog. While I wish Traveling and Shopping and Art and Beauty were higher, I think my love of food and exploring were tempered by more mundane obsessions with the weather and my inability/desire to communicate.
For 2011? Here’s to continued Eating and Wandering. But maybe I’ll have to add some new labels to the blog, too.
Happy New Year, everyone!
Bonne Année, à tous!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Bougeois et Balzac
The wee Louise Bourgeois exhibition at the Maison de Balzac was the antithesis of Baccarat’s glitz and glamour. Set in Balzac’s rickety home on a hill, the work mostly encompassed folksy needlework and literary displays that go in tandem with Balzac’s novel Eugénie Grandet.
Indeed, before her death earlier this year Bourgeois herself suggested to the Maison that she create an exhibition of works based on the novel as Bourgeois, who had an abusive father, deeply identified with the novel’s main character as the “prototype of a woman unable to fulfill herself… the prisoner of her father, who needed a maid.”
She was a remarkable woman and an amazing artist. Ever since seeing her giant spider sculptures in Rockefeller Center over a decade ago, I’ve been a fan. While this exhibition did nothing to move or enchant me (sorry) as the retrospective at the ICA in ’07 did, I’m still glad I got to see her feisty spirit alive in Paris.
Indeed, before her death earlier this year Bourgeois herself suggested to the Maison that she create an exhibition of works based on the novel as Bourgeois, who had an abusive father, deeply identified with the novel’s main character as the “prototype of a woman unable to fulfill herself… the prisoner of her father, who needed a maid.”
She was a remarkable woman and an amazing artist. Ever since seeing her giant spider sculptures in Rockefeller Center over a decade ago, I’ve been a fan. While this exhibition did nothing to move or enchant me (sorry) as the retrospective at the ICA in ’07 did, I’m still glad I got to see her feisty spirit alive in Paris.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
La semaine des feries
It’s getting freaky in Paris! The crowds, the traffic, the anticipation and glee. Tomorrow is New Year’s, and this town takes this holiday seriously!
The tourists have arrived en masse. Don’t even try going to the Monet exhibition or Musée d’Orsay these next few days. The lines there can be outdone only by the hungry and tenacious people waiting for a table at Le Comptoir or a cake from Pierre Hermé.
Don’t go anywhere near la Grande Roue in Place de la Concorde, Fauchon at Madeleine, and beware: amateurs abound on the Velibs.
Meanwhile, the locals are hoarding their champagne and oysters, foie gras and smoked salmon. The markets are pawning king crabs and blue lobsters, crevettes by the kilo and cheese by the wheel. Pierre Hermé resurrected a tent for New Year’s orders near its rue Vaugirard boutique and shopgirls stand with silver trays of rich and crackly praliné bonbons to pass the time while you wait in line (Merci! Much appreciated!)
The lights are glittering, the temperature is (finally!) mild, and now the only questions remaining are: What are you doing tomorrow night?? (And what are you wearing?)
The tourists have arrived en masse. Don’t even try going to the Monet exhibition or Musée d’Orsay these next few days. The lines there can be outdone only by the hungry and tenacious people waiting for a table at Le Comptoir or a cake from Pierre Hermé.
Don’t go anywhere near la Grande Roue in Place de la Concorde, Fauchon at Madeleine, and beware: amateurs abound on the Velibs.
Meanwhile, the locals are hoarding their champagne and oysters, foie gras and smoked salmon. The markets are pawning king crabs and blue lobsters, crevettes by the kilo and cheese by the wheel. Pierre Hermé resurrected a tent for New Year’s orders near its rue Vaugirard boutique and shopgirls stand with silver trays of rich and crackly praliné bonbons to pass the time while you wait in line (Merci! Much appreciated!)
The lights are glittering, the temperature is (finally!) mild, and now the only questions remaining are: What are you doing tomorrow night?? (And what are you wearing?)
I had a moment today
It wasn’t one of those acutely tender moments, but rather a long few hours of “Oh yeeeaah… I remember this feeling!”
It was sunny for just a few hours earlier and I hopped on a Velib to do some sweets reconnaissance. As I biked across the Seine, through Saint-Germain, out into the fifteenth arrondissement (to Des Gateaux et Du Pain and Pierre Hermé, bien sur), it was a beautiful reminder of my earlier days in Paris. When I didn’t really know many people or have any obligations. Every day was a bit of an indulgent and unknown journey. I’d Velib all over town, stumble upon cute new parks and shops, eat at multiple patisseries in a day, and fall a little bit deeper in love with Paris.
I always knew that phase was precious in its fleetingness. Once you know a city and develop a routine and relationships, time takes on its regular cadence. Tick tock. Tick tock. The magic and possibility, while still there, aren’t felt as strongly. Soon, they no longer tease and lead you to new sensations and experiences. Only because your heart, curiosity and eyes aren’t open as wide. (Which, I don’t think is tragic, but, rather makes the fleeting stage more beautiful.)
The past few months have been a social whirlwind. It’s been fun but frantic. And these past few weeks—planning and orchestrating a move, wrapping up work in the Paris office trying to connect with the New York office, Christmas shopping and traveling, cramming in dates with friends and visits to restaurants, researching and writing articles and the book—have been more hectic than ever.
So it was more than errands, more than a bike ride, more than a dash across town when I took off on the Velib today. It was a brilliant flashback to who I was, how I saw Paris, and all that I am taking home with me next week. (And I really needed that.)
It was sunny for just a few hours earlier and I hopped on a Velib to do some sweets reconnaissance. As I biked across the Seine, through Saint-Germain, out into the fifteenth arrondissement (to Des Gateaux et Du Pain and Pierre Hermé, bien sur), it was a beautiful reminder of my earlier days in Paris. When I didn’t really know many people or have any obligations. Every day was a bit of an indulgent and unknown journey. I’d Velib all over town, stumble upon cute new parks and shops, eat at multiple patisseries in a day, and fall a little bit deeper in love with Paris.
I always knew that phase was precious in its fleetingness. Once you know a city and develop a routine and relationships, time takes on its regular cadence. Tick tock. Tick tock. The magic and possibility, while still there, aren’t felt as strongly. Soon, they no longer tease and lead you to new sensations and experiences. Only because your heart, curiosity and eyes aren’t open as wide. (Which, I don’t think is tragic, but, rather makes the fleeting stage more beautiful.)
The past few months have been a social whirlwind. It’s been fun but frantic. And these past few weeks—planning and orchestrating a move, wrapping up work in the Paris office trying to connect with the New York office, Christmas shopping and traveling, cramming in dates with friends and visits to restaurants, researching and writing articles and the book—have been more hectic than ever.
So it was more than errands, more than a bike ride, more than a dash across town when I took off on the Velib today. It was a brilliant flashback to who I was, how I saw Paris, and all that I am taking home with me next week. (And I really needed that.)
La Maison Baccarat
One of the nice things about having a looming exit date (because the anxiety, stress and sadness/bittersweetness of it all is a potent cocktail that’s better left ignored) is the impetus for getting out into this beautiful city and doing some the things—some, there’s no way I can squeeze in all—I had wanted.
Last week, I finally made it to the Baccarat Maison.
No, not to dine in the Cristal Room (next time, mes amis!), but just to admire the insanely decadent chandeliers, sculptures, vases and other sparkly objects.
(Though some of them, owing to the current exhibition, were more hairy and feathery than sparkly.)
It was a quick and nice visit. But next time I would skip the relatively modest entry fee for the Maison and just go to the store.
It had a wilder and glitzier exhibition that really shone beautifully.
Last week, I finally made it to the Baccarat Maison.
No, not to dine in the Cristal Room (next time, mes amis!), but just to admire the insanely decadent chandeliers, sculptures, vases and other sparkly objects.
(Though some of them, owing to the current exhibition, were more hairy and feathery than sparkly.)
It was a quick and nice visit. But next time I would skip the relatively modest entry fee for the Maison and just go to the store.
It had a wilder and glitzier exhibition that really shone beautifully.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Follow Your Bliss
I posted this quote last year. But, it warrants reposting. Especially at this time of the year when we reflect on what's past and what we want for the future.
And I have the firm belief in this now,
not only in terms of my own experience
but in knowing about the experience of others,
that when you follow your bliss, doors will open where
you would not have thought there were going to be
doors and where there wouldn't be a door
for anybody else.
—Joseph Campbell
And I have the firm belief in this now,
not only in terms of my own experience
but in knowing about the experience of others,
that when you follow your bliss, doors will open where
you would not have thought there were going to be
doors and where there wouldn't be a door
for anybody else.
—Joseph Campbell
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
My Vegan Mondays
Since Monday wasn’t vegan—how could it be? Leftover Christmas turkey, pizza at The Orange and, um, well, a box of chocolate bonbons on Eurostar, which, coincidentally, was the perfect pairing with Jonathan Franzen’s half-priced, signed copy of Freedom—today is Vegan Mardi!
Morning
Coffee and soy milk
Wheat toast with raspberry jam
An apple
Afternoon
Sauteed root vegetables
Another apple
Evening
The same fennel & carrot soup I made last week. And the week before that. What can I say? I’m a creature of habit.
Yummy dried apple
Morning
Coffee and soy milk
Wheat toast with raspberry jam
An apple
Afternoon
Sauteed root vegetables
Another apple
Evening
The same fennel & carrot soup I made last week. And the week before that. What can I say? I’m a creature of habit.
Yummy dried apple
Merry, merry, happy, happy
The holidays. Love ’em or hate ’em, filled as they are with stress and anxiety, hope and emotion, champagne and turkey.
Christmas this year was very different for me as it was the first time in a gazillion years I wasn’t home with my mom and stepfather and a houseful of Christmas cookies (snif). But to make up for it, I had the joy of watching the two cutest kids in all of Jolly England tear into stockings and presents and dance around with new toys in unfettered excitement. It was magique!
My lovely holiday weekend also included a (brutally cold) walk through the woods and a (wonderfully cozy) dinner at a small village inn—in fact, it was one of the best meals I’ve had in months, and, given how much I’ve been eating lately, that says a lot.
We celebrated with neighbors over mince pies and Christmas puddings (after the cheese and champagne, bien sur), relaxed with books and movies on the couch, and went shopping in London, where I treated myself to a coveted handbag. (Sweet!)
It’s never easy saying goodbye—to loved ones or a brilliant year—but that’s part of the holiday magic, too. The charm and coziness, indulgence and sloth, Christmas tree and candles, they can only last so long.
So how about you? Was your Christmas filled with brightness and laughter?
Christmas this year was very different for me as it was the first time in a gazillion years I wasn’t home with my mom and stepfather and a houseful of Christmas cookies (snif). But to make up for it, I had the joy of watching the two cutest kids in all of Jolly England tear into stockings and presents and dance around with new toys in unfettered excitement. It was magique!
My lovely holiday weekend also included a (brutally cold) walk through the woods and a (wonderfully cozy) dinner at a small village inn—in fact, it was one of the best meals I’ve had in months, and, given how much I’ve been eating lately, that says a lot.
We celebrated with neighbors over mince pies and Christmas puddings (after the cheese and champagne, bien sur), relaxed with books and movies on the couch, and went shopping in London, where I treated myself to a coveted handbag. (Sweet!)
It’s never easy saying goodbye—to loved ones or a brilliant year—but that’s part of the holiday magic, too. The charm and coziness, indulgence and sloth, Christmas tree and candles, they can only last so long.
So how about you? Was your Christmas filled with brightness and laughter?
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