The Catacombs

On my last full day in Paris, LH and I tried again to go to the Catacombs. We met and got in the queue, and a mere two and one half hours later, we were at the entrance. 2.5 hours on line, in front of a group of Swedish tourists. SHEESH!

 The anticipation worked its magic - we were almost giddy to actually go in and get our tickets.
 

The Catacombs are part of the vast underground network of quarries and tunnels that range underneath most of Paris. What is special about this part, is that they took the remains of about 6 million humans and stacked them artistically along the walls of the tunnels. 

Why, you ask? Well, the graveyards of Paris had been gathering dead people for centuries....I mean, Christian churches had been burying their dead in the land adjacent for 10 centuries (until around the year 1000) before the population boomed and suddenly the putrefying bodies began to cause a major problem in terms of polluting the water and air. 700+ years later, they instituted a whole new plan for the dead of the future, and began removing the remains from the old cemeteries. Someone thought of artfully arranging the bones in this section of the quarries.

103 steps down into the depths....

The lighting was dim, and tunnels were long...we weren't sure at what point we would see actual bones and skulls, so the anticipation grew....around each bend we would gingerly peer to see the walls were rock, or human remains. Creepy!

We didn't need to worry - a doorway announced the entrance to the sensational part....

Stop! The empire of death is here...

Yes, it certainly is.

When we first encountered the skulls and femurs, we were a little jumpy and silly...but that wore off as we went past an enormous amount of human remains. 6 million people are down there, it is wild. The ultimate democratization of a populace...the people here were rich and poor, nobility and peasants, men and women, mean and nice, funny and grumpy, scholars and butchers and artists and sailors and maids and farmers and...well...you get the picture. Ultimately, our earthly selves all share the exact same fate.

The innocuous exit from the subterranean depths

 We headed up to St. Germain-des-Pres, once a hotbed of intellectuals, philosophers and artists, now a very active tourist mecca.

  Lunch at the famous Cafe de Flore, right across the street from Louis Vuitton.

Lovely LH. The guys right behind her got really drunk, and were flirting equally with the posh ladies sitting next to them, and the prostitutes who came by more than once.

I had to have a proper French omelette. I mean, I have watched Julia Child and Jacques Pepin make their wondrous omelettes, and I have never mastered the technique - I usually wind up with a yummy scramble, rather than an evenly cooked, properly folded omelette. Well, sorry to say that this omelette aux fine herbes was a disappointment. Flat, uneven, and the "fines herbes" was roughly cut parsley that was all clumped up in one spot.

LH's croque monsieur was tasty...

...and  the adorable little chocolates were a nice touch.

 Good food karma returned for my last meal in Paris. Right on my corner is an old-school bistrot, called La Grille. Chowhounds were back and forth on it....Souphie blasted it, but then posted a picture of the boeuf bourguignon that looked amazing. So, I rolled the dice, and was happy I did.

 
 First, they bring the "ardoise" to the table. along with a delectable little pot of pork rillettes.

I chose a dish I had been obsessing over, even if it did push my egg quota way over the USDR.  Oeufs Mayonnaise. Anthony Bourdain got this SO wrong in the No Reservations episode in Paris (the 100th episode, not the first). Someone (a well-respected chef, IIRC), mentioned this old school bistrot classis, and Bourdain deduced incorrectly that it was deviled eggs. Now, I love me some deviled eggs - hard cook the egg, mix the yolk with some Hellman's and Grey Poupon, dash of paprika. That has very little to do with this heavenly creation.

Hard cooked eggs, yes. Sliced in half, then covered by the lightest, lemony-est, frothiest mayonaise, made freshly in house. Topped with a sprinkle of fresh chives and parsley. Mache on the side, in a proper, proper, delicious vinaigrette. I loved this. This was a mayonnaise revelation for me.

The boeuf bourguignon was very good - hearty, robust, soul-satisfying. I mean, how could it not be, with giant lardons of bacon peeping out from the tender hunks of stewed beef? Yummy.

Redemption at La Grenier A Pain, failure at Pierre Herme

So, I came across a croissant enthusiast's blog, stating that the croissant from La Grenier A Pain is one of the best in the city. If you recall, this was a place in my hood where I was treated rather rudely. Well, having determined that rudeness should not be a deterrent to croissant nirvana, I thought maybe I should give it a shot.

THEN, I read a post by another great Chowhound, Delucacheesemonger, who declared the kouign amann at La Grenier A Pain the best in FRANCE. Kouign Amann is a pastry from Brittany (say "koo-ween ah-mahn) that is rustic but looked amazing. So, it was clear that I had to make a return visit.

This time, a different young woman greeted me, and was nothing less than delightful. She complimented my poor French. And she sold me what turned out to be the #2 croissant of the trip. And she sold me the paradigm-shifting, life-changing glory that is kouign amann.

I can't find the words to describe how insanely delicious this thing was. Crispy, chewy, tender and flaky. Crunchy caramelized sugar  - but as a whole, not too sweet. This is what I will be pining for. Amazing.

What Pierre Herme and I seem to have, apparently, is a failure to communicate. When I got my macarons after the Orangerie visit, I was actually in search of a special croissant they make - filled and flavored with ispahan. Ispahan is a rose flavor, mixed with raspberries and lychees. Intriguing? It has filled my fantasies for weeks now. But, that store only sold macarons and chocolates, and no ispahan anything. They told me to try the Rue Bonaparte location.

Which I did, today, but not without calling first (last night, actually) and asking them to hold three of the croissants aside for me to pick up at 1PM. Boy, was I proud of myself.

Lovely LH and I stopped by after our trip to the Catacombs (report is coming) and voila - they had my little bag ready to go. I saw some in the bakery basket - they looked amazing, and LH got herself one too. I was SO excited to try this.

But when I got home and tore open the bag....

bwah...bwah...bwah...

three regular, plain, ordinary, croissants.

And I leave tomorrow.

Wah!

Here is what I missed: Ispahan croissant

Oh no! Its almost over!

In a way, time flew...but in another way, this place has become a little familiar, and I am going to miss it. Here is the view I said good night to each evening when I close the shutters...

 

Yesterday I took the bus down to the Place des Vosges, to visit Maison Victor Hugo - his apartment which is also a museum. He took the apartment in 1832, and lived in it until he had to flee into exile in 1848.

The building itself is from 1604, it was a mansion, until a benefactor bought it and donated it in Victor Hugo's name to the City of Paris.

Hugo's story was interesting. His mother was an ardent supporter of the Bourbon monarchy. His father was a general in Napoleon I's army - a stauch supporter of that regime. Hugo started off sympathetic to monarchy, but over the years, become more and more disenchanted.

He published Notre Dame de Paris (the Hunchback of Notre Dame) in 1829 - before he lived in this apartment. Themes of strict class separation were already apparent, but he hadn't completely given himself over to being the voice of the downtrodden quite yet.
 
They say he began Les Miserables in this apartment, but it took the 1848 Revolution to swing him into the more "republican" mindset he became famous for.

 

Exiled to Guernsey and Jersey, there he finished Les Mis - which has an anti-monarchist viewpoint, but takes place during the years in which he was still an avowed monarchist. Interesting.

After the museum I took myself for my first real restaurant meal since my first night in town. I chose Cafe des Musees, a Chowhound-approved place for traditional French food, close to the Place des Vosges.

L'ardoise (the chalkboard menu)

House-smoked salmon

Poitrine de veau du Limousin, peas and carrot salad

Open kitchen of Pierre Lecoutre

Did you  notice the Japanese tourist taking pictures of his charcuterie plate? Everyone who spoke anything but French had a camera!

Lecoutre is rightfully lauded for his smoked salmon - it was delicious and delicate, served with creme fraiche into which a chiffonade of basil had been stirred. Delicious.

The veal was lightly seasoned and then, as far as I can tell, pan seared and roasted. WONDERFUL! The meat was tender, flavorful, and as you can see, there was plenty of it! The peas were fantastic too - with shallots and some mild greens - maybe mache. The carrot salad was a little weird - it had a ginger vinegar dressing which at first seemed terribly out of place but was actually an excellent complement to the rich meat and savory peas.

The wait staff were brusque and funny, even as the place rapidly filled with dissatisfied Americans (we need more room, that table is no good, don't you have duck tonight?) and some French folk that look like they have been coming here for a long, long time. All in all, a charming, delicious experience. I wish doggy bags weren't so frowned upon here... sigh....what I couldn't finish of that veal would have made an excellent sandwich on some Eric Kayser baguette...oh well!

Impressionists, Macarons and Mustard

Peach and marjoram scented bubbly water. Divoon.

With the Musee de l'Orangerie as the destination, I decided to take the bus instead of the metro. The bus takes longer, but you get to see more. I got off at the Place de la Concorde, at the foot of the Champs-Élysée.

The obelisk once guarded the Luxor Temple - was a gift to France from Egypt in 1829

There was a guy blowing big bubbles (he was rocking a 50% success rate, from what I could see) for a large audience of enthralled tourists. Next to him was something I absolutely did not expect to see...

He was playing a wooden flute and singing to a boom box accompaniment - Hooked on Native American Music, sort of.

Jardin des Tuileries

Next to the Place de la Concorde lies the Garden of the Tuileries. Created by Catherine de Medicis as the backyard of her palace in1564, it has been a public park since the Revolution in 1789. During the Revolution, when the monarchy was abolished, they brought Louis XVI and his family from Versailles to the Tuileries. He and Marie Antoinette (and their family) made an ill-fated escape from the palace, dressed as bourgeois folks accompanying a Russian baron.  They were caught, and returned, and executed by guillotine in the Place de la Concorde, which at the time was known as Place de la Revolution.

The Musee de l'Orangerie was wonderful. No photos allowed. The special thing about this museum is that Claude Monet himself helped to design two rooms to showcase some of his colossal water lilies paintings. It was incredible. The reflets verts panel was luscious. I probably spent an hour sitting in different spots on the central bench in those two rooms. Got teary once.

The lower level has a nice little collection of Renoir, Cezanne, Gauguin, Picasso, and some others....including one artist I was unfamiliar with, but totally fell in love with. Chaim Soutine. His stuff is amazing. He is buried in the Montparnasse cemetery too - if only I had known!

L'Eglise de Madeleine

I walked away from the Tuileries, going on a macaron and mustard hunt. First to Pierre Herme - a very fancy chocolate and macaron shop. They also forbid picture taking...but I got a few macarons. On to Laduree, where the line snaked around the block. No thanks. Then, on to the real destination...

I love Maille dijon mustard, and sure, you can get it at most well-stocked HEBs, but this store has many different boutique flavors, plus, fresh mustard on tap. Since 1747.

 

moutarde aux fines herbs, violette, and piment d'espelette

Got my little crock! I can bring it back "next time" to be refilled. More likely, it will hold change on my office desk.

Next stop - Maison du Chocolat.  Another sleek, chic place, but soooooo friendly! They offer each customer (even if she is only buying 3 macarons) a sample, handed over on a plate. Delicieux!

Fragonard, the perfume place, has a store in this neighborhood too - but this one has a museum of perfume attached. Free, and really neat.

Air pump

Still

I thought this next thing was neat - it is a pot-pourri. To perfume the air, fresh herbs and flowers were mixed with salt and placed into a decorative, ventilated pot. When the mixture got funky, they would add spices and other elements.

"Perfume Organ" - essential oils, ready for mixing

From Fragonard, I walked past the Opera Garnier to Lafayette Gourmet - the foodie heaven located inside the Galeries Lafayette department store. It was, indeed, terrific....but swarming with people and they were out of the famous Bordier butter I had been seeking. So, home I went, for a macaron tasting.

Herme on the left - the flavors are salted caramel, rose, milk chocolate/passionfruit, and pistachio/cinnamon/cherry. Maison du Chocolat on the right - raspberry, caramel, and chocolate. Herme was the winner in this taste off - I tried half of the caramel ones from each place, plus bits of a couple of others. WAY sweet, but very delicious.