June 28

An American in Paris or more aptly titled AmericanS in Paris 

Before I left I read quite a few books about Americans who had come to live in Paris. Most were humorous and filled with vignettes and observations about the differences between Paris and New York, Parisian behavior or just fitting in. Each one seemed to have an aha moment when the author felt they 'got it' or finally fit in or finally chose to always stick out as an American. The one I loved best was the guy who felt he had made it when he finally understood and accepted that, in order to even take out the trash from his flat, it was necessary to shower, shave and put on pressed jeans just to walk down to the trash can. Now I have been in Paris only two weeks and am living in Le Marais but as I look out my window incessantly, I see plenty of Parisians to dispel that myth. 

That being said I had my own aha moment of what it means to LIVE in Paris yesterday....We did NOTHING touristy!! We simply lived. The day's plan was: Shop, Lunch, Movies, just like living in Philadelphia without the big blue bus. Now in all fairness the lunch place was special, recommended by dear friends sending us there as a bon voyage treat. We had met the owner of La Cremerie, Serge (interestingly enough our second great meal in a Serge owned restaurant in France) during our scouting trip to make the reservation and had already discovered he had a son living in Philadelphia.

But first shopping. St. Germain is full of charming boutiques and like Paris in general has no shortage of what most women love-shoe stores. And somehow we managed to be in Paris during one of the only two weeks a year where everything is on Soldes (sale). What that means is that we can actually buy one or two things. But as luck would have it we ambled past a shop with great shoes and the exact pair of boots in my size and color so with shopping bag in hand, we headed for lunch.

Now in all fairness, I am going to assume my friends who sent us here had purposely not told us too much about this 'restaurant' and I probably should not divulge too much for those that I will send, but since this is my blog....

The place is small, how small? enough room for 12 people at 6 very small tables.

The place has a lot of wine, how much? every wall is lined with bottles because, oh yes, it is really a wine shop and you pick your bottle and pay a corkage. We had an incredible bottle red  from Provence.

And there is no menu, so what do you eat?whatever Serge suggests. He has an incredible Cremerie stocked with delicious artisianal products he sources from wonderful local people and places. He has a small counter in back where he artfully open jars and plates them on antique rooster crockery serving each course with just the right bread-either fresh baguette or toasted baguette. Think very small, very arty, very personal, very charming, very expensive Di Bruno's but way, way better.

So, now the story diverges from food for a bit, getting back to AMERICANS in Paris. 

As Serge presides over pouring wine, he chats with everyone (there were a total of six of us lunching) and when we answer that we live in Philadelphia and Santa Fe there is a 'what did you say' in English from the next table over, two women ALSO FROM SANTA FE.  We exchanged just a few quick words of where do you live and we all went back to our own wine and food and conversations.

WHAT WE ATE - it may all sound simple and it was but it was food perfection

1. A huge fresh burrata cheese with sun dried cherry tomatoes, oil and snips of basil with absolutely no salt, creamy and perfect with our red.

2. Sardines, literally emptied from a hand packed glass jar, presented standing up on the plate with just a couple of cooked carrot slices and basil leaves whose flavors permeated through the plump whole fishes.  I don't even like sardines and I could not get enough of these.

3. Cheese, one cheese, selected by Serge. A camembert, just a small wedge served with, not bread, just butter (at this point I realized why my friend sent me here, it was the over the top use of butter, one of her favorite ingredients). We looked at the plate-cheese and butter? Really? Like this had not been enough of a cholesterol fest? would this be good or gross? 

This was undoubtedly the best butter I have ever tasted in the world.  Fresh, creamy and incredibly salty in the most fabulous way, slathered onto each bite of cheese we polished it off but wanted more. Watch for this one on my dining table in the future.

4. Cafe small and strong, two cups of espresso to keep us awake at the movies and balance the 2500 calories of fat we had ingested. 

FOOD DONE, back to those Americans in Paris

Steve decided to play Santa Fe geography figuring it is a small place and we were bound to know a couple of the same people. Here is how small a place SF really is, considering we have lived there only part time for a few years.

These two women are friends with one of our good friends and neighbors.

One of these women has her work in a gallery managed by our neighbor two doors down.

These two women are very good friends with the  woman we bought our house from.  Artists both, one  had a large piece of her art in our house over the fireplace. We loved it so much we tried to include it in the sale of the house. I still have photos of it on my IPad. 

We have another friend in common, originally from Santa Fe now living in Philadelphia, who was at our Bon Voyage party.

I am sure if we kept talking we would have discovered many more connections but we had a bill to pay (109 Euro...told you Paris was  fortune) and a movie to catch around the corner.  So we exchanged cards, blog address and said goodbye. I know we will bump into them on the street or at a party the next time we are in SF. And we both have already sent emails to our mutual friends with photos we took of each other.

One last comment, one last Americans in Paris....Before Midnight.

Watching the opening scenes around the lunch table, a gathering of Euro, country, artistic, intellectual and sexy foodies who quote poets passionately and easily, I wanted a seat at the table. I thought for a moment-that is my dream, to have a summer like that in a place like that with people like that.

Then I remembered. I am an American in Paris. I am already living my dream with a sexy, intellectual,  foodie,  just no quotes from Shakespeare and that's okay.