BLOGG #99 PARIS VIGNETTES

My family consisting of my daughter, my son-in law and two teenage grandsons finally managed a longed for trip to Paris and ,of course, I have collected some vignettes of our experience to share on my blogg. This is about our experiences with French food on our first day. We arrived at the airport on July 13 at 8am and were driven into Paris via limousine to the apartment we had rented. As soon as we dumped our luggage we went out to experience French food. As it was Bastille day the streets were empty and most shops and cafes were closed. Obviously the Parisians do not celebrate this important event with fireworks and noisy demonstrations-they all seem to go out of town for the weekend. We did finally find a Tabac with sidewalk table and chairs. It featured a big sign selling Amstel beer. My son in law's eyes lit up for this is his favourite European beer-He greeted the waiter with enthusiasm "Bon-jor" he said " an Amstel beera please" The cheerful waiter produced one in seconds then busied himself seating us at the tiny tables and waited for our orders. My daughter and grandsons ordered Espresso but not I. For my first experience I wanted wine-white wine-it was very hot out. "Mom you can't have wine " said my cautious daughter "it is only 9.30 in the morning!" "Of course she can" said our friendly waiter and turning to me he said "Madam you can order anything you want -you can drink wine any hour of the day here." So I ordered my cold delicious glass of white wine and discovered to my chagrin I could not pronounce "vien" correctly even with instructions from my oldest grandson -our expert in French. With the assistance of this remarkable waiter we plowed through the french menu. This was all followed with amusement by the only other occupants-the local early morning coffee regulars -four exuberant women of a certain age with brightly dyed hair who shouted helpful suggestions.The most excitable one waved her arms and laughed and shouted she was sorry not to be able to help us as she only spoke French and Yiddish. We were in a area long inhabited by the Jewish population. My daughter smiled and said she was sorry too but could only speak English and Grec. The atmosphere was quite celebratory and friendly and noisy. Our orders came finally and we discovered we all had managed in our ignorance to order the same thing- bagettes with ham and cheese but we agreed they were the best bagettes, ham and cheese we had ever eaten. As we left the Tabac the friendly women shouted their goodbys and announced they thought we were very cute. At least that is what we thought they said. French people are so friendly. That same evening we decided to have a really good French meal and set out to find it.We walked a great distance in one direction until we bumped into a small squadron of police with protective gear and promptly reversed our direction. Eventually we found the perfect restaurant with the help of a very friendly gay couple-we are in a well known gay community -hence the abundance of lively good cafes. Unfortunately the sidewalk tables were full of the returning French post Bastille day so we went inside where there was one other family-a young couple, a new baby and a proud grandma. Again we received an extensive menu in French. Our French expert pulled out his smart phone to access a French dictionary and we spent a long time arguing and choosing. The waitress.after tactfully leaving us alone, finally came by and asked if we were ready. My youngest grandson said confidently "Oui" and rattled out his order in French. There was a stunned and impressive silence from the rest of us and then the waitress spoiled it all by saying "Pardon??" "Oh well" he said pointing to the menu "I chose this item as I thought I could pronounce it"! Ha! We gave our orders and waited in anticipation. It reminded me of Christmas when you don't know what you are getting. The orders came-We found we had ordered a wonderful vegetable tart-oven baked eggplant and peppers in a thin crust-a shredded raw salad with medallions of sesame chicken on top.and a succulent pork chop with juilienne veggies which we shared asking for small plates. My grandson's unpronounceable order was duck baked with figs-a very sophisticated dish which he wouldn't share. When we got up to leave I smiled at the proud Papa and family next to us, commented on the beautiful baby and asked how old it was -in very bad English French. He thanked me in perfect English and proudly said the baby was ten days old and this was his first excursion in this world. We all nodded and smiled at each other understandingly at the importance of this event and said goodnight.The French are so friendly -to say nothing of their tolerance of the hashing of their beautiful language. This was the best meal we had the entire trip. The last comment is that our favourite time was breakfast when it was the duty of the earliest riser to go to the Boulanger across the street and select our breakfast baked goods -incredible croissants etc and of course baggettes.