July 4

July 4 on the Champs Elyssee

Fireworks will have to wait another ten days for Bastille day, nothing special about July 4th in Paris. 

We had managed to snag a reservation for dinner at Le Baratin up in the 20th arrondissement, just a bit above Belleville.  I had cut out two articles about this little hole in the wall place run by an Argentinian chef and her grumpy Martin Scorcese look alike husband but had not bothered to call for a table. Then by chance, a foodie waiter at the Chapeau Melon wine bar where we had stopped for a glass of wine and a plate of charcuterie a few days ago, 

added this to his list of recommendations for us. They squeezed us in with a 7:30 table, too early for most Parisians but early enough to turn the table again at 9:30.  A half hour to metro there, a half hour to dress, a half hour to pick up some wine and snacks and a half hour to get home from wherever we were during the day, minus the time we got up, plus coffee time, plus emails writing and blogging, and getting dressed and....well you can see how the day slips away and we were left with about five hours to use for the day's activities. 

We chose Musee de L'Orangerie for our outing. Each prior time we had been in Paris we had missed this one-at least the last two visits it was closed for renovations. Steve agreed to walk, it's about five or six metro stops which is how we have come to judge distance in Paris. I am thinking he is getting serious about walking  'The Way of St. James'.  We meandered through the small streets, stopping for a cafe and then at the patisserie for some sandwiches and a tart to picnic in the Tuleriies Gardens. We relaxed in lean back chairs, 

soaking up some blue sky and sunshine before the 2:30 English tour at the Museum. But, we were destined to keep our record intact. As we approached the Museum we could see some special signs posted and people milling about looking a bit dazed and confused. The museum was temporarily "exceptionally"  closed for the day due to an undisclosed problem. Missed it again. 

I looked at the map, looked at Steve and said, "we're not too far from the Champs Elyssee, it starts right over there, just on the other side of the Place de Concorde. You said we should walk the Champs, let's do it".  Grunting, knowing how deceiving these blocks on the little map can be, Steve led the way across the Place de Concorde, where they were already erecting the bleachers for Bastille Day celebrations. Heading down the Champs Elyssee there were only rows and rows of more parade preparations and how French they were. We have bleachers, they have bleachers but that is where the similarity ends. 

Method to construct French Bastille Day bleachers.

Start with boulevards so wide that traffic is not affected very much by all the construction equipment, there are no traffic jams and no beeping horns.

Next start two weeks ahead not worrying about vandalism or damages.

Next erect staircases  between the bleachers with railings every 30 feet. 

Next custom cut two by fours to create a handrail on top of the metal stairs, and two by fours vertically from the handrails to the ground to create a wooden perimeter for the stairs.

Next deliver at every staircase a plastic wrapped bundle of new gray fabric.

Next hire workers to custom cut the fabric for every staircase and the custom wrap the metal/wood rail casing in taut fabric.

Next do the same for the back of every section of bleachers to create a beautiful gray wall.

I am guessing next is enjoy Bastille Day and then by 7am on July 15th, it will all be down and cleaned up.

This turned out to be the nicest part of walking the Champs Elyssee.  These blocks of bleachers were alongside magnificent houses, spaces and gardens for everyone to enjoy. After walking another metro stop or two, voila, the shops of the Champs Elyssee......McDonald's, GAP, FNAC, Zara, Sephora (ok it was the largest Sephora I ever saw), Levis.......and yes a few malls with very expensive, very glitzy, very ugly clothes, shoes and jewelry marketed for wealthy Saudis and Kuwaitis judging by the Arabic on the signs and the head coverings on the women.  

And yes, there was Cartier and Louis Vuitton and a few others but the good shopping is still in the small boutiques of St. Germain and Le Marais or along the Place des Vogues and Place Vendome.  The Arc de Triumphe is still imposing at the end, where the best thing was the Metro to take us the eleven stops home. 

Le Baratin was just as described.

Small, homey, you could see in the kitchen where the chef was cooking in between her main activity of drinking wine. The Marty Scorcese look alike was behind the bar presiding over the reservations, taking a bit of time to decant a new bottle of good wine for the chef, his wife, to enjoy and probably not as grumpy as his reputation. 

Our Bourgogne, which is a pinot noir from Burgundy by definition, was opened, the warm rustic bread served as we told the waiter to pick the specialties of the house for us - two appetizers for me and an app and main for Steve - quite a risk since there were calfs brains on the menu. Luckily they must not have been a specialty. Instead we enjoyed a small quail with raisins and apples and almonds, calamari in a butter squid ink sauce (that is just my guess by tasting), thick chunks raw dourade with radish and cucumber, and a barren chicken (this is a special type of French chicken that doesn't have eggs and was good but now that I am a French chicken expert I prefer a breast from a Bresse chicken if you have a choice).

  A sablet for dessert with luscious cream and miniature French strawberries about as big as your pinkie nail. And all around, local Parisians enjoying dinner...well one other table of Americans who must have read the same magazines as me. 

TWO BLOG FOOTNOTES

1.Now that we have mentioned not to reply to the donotreply, we are hearing from a lot more people which we love. Everyone seems to enjoy the blog which is ridiculously easy to write when you are living this life. So we were thinking, anyone like it enough to subsidize an extra month-and you get to pick where we go.

2. No one won the second What is it contest but most of you came really close. See photo below for the answer. We came upon this one night when we attended an interesting performance in Parc Villette, an amazing large park/entertainment/museum venue up in the 19th. Twelve Chinese performers creating a story through movement accompanied by a ten piece Balkan band, a bit of a political statement that would likely be censored in China but could still be understood in Paris by two Americans.

Ceux Français, ils sont des salauds intelligent, n'est-ce pas?

Steve & Marci

pss - Write us! It's nice to hear from our freinds and family back home....