On Friends and Food

The snow is coming down in Paris and I can feel the rise of nostalgic sentiment brewing as the Christmas music plays, the gingerbread bakes and the twinkly lights glow (insidee the apartment :)). Forgive the sappy verbage but I've finally succumbed to warm glow of the holiday season...it's too late now.

It all started last week when my dear friends Brooke and Justin came to visit me (oh and Yann!)here in Paris. Ohhhh how I've missed friends!!! What is life without the people who know you best - your history, your faults, your triumphs? The answer: It's sad.

Yes, I have made some good friends here and I am very very grateful for them but there is something to be said for the people with whom have shared a history and who help you to grow. They are rare gems and I have never been so grateful to the friends in my life as I am now - 5,000 miles away from Seattle.

Anyways, Brooke and Justin were here and we had a lovely time eating our way through Paris. Part of the food exploration included a Thanksgiving feast with a lovely gathering of 7: Brooke, Justin, Carole, Guillaume, Annaelle, myself and Mr Yann.

It was a meal that began and ended with a little French zest - morning trips to the market for produce, cheese and to pick up our bird (you have to order in advance here as they don't do turkey much), a stop in at the wine shop and of course a break at home for a cafe. We finished the meal with cheese and then dessert in front of the TV watching a rugby match (the closest thing to football!)

During the meal, as we went around the table to say a few words about what we were thankful for (ahh yes, they were good sports my French friends who were experiencing turkey day for the first time!), I thought about where I would be without the support of my friends, new and old, and how life is just so much richer with them in it - especially for those moments when you share a meal that includes hot buttery gravy and garlicy mashed potatoes.

Coming out of my hole...

So yeah, it's been a big black hole on this side of the pond since ohhhh I started work and my life became consumed in the routine of 70+ hour work weeks. But alas, there have been a few moments of sweet relief...praise the Lord for national bank holidays in France!!!

Here are a few photos from 2 weeks ago when Yann and I headed east to the lovely town of Strasbourg. On the border of Germany and France, this lovely little town holds a special place in my heart as it was here in 2000 (10+ years ago!!??) that I came here as a fresh young college student to learn french and hang out with a group of girls - yayyy Whitworth!! Oh and yes, we did drink our share of vin chaud and hot chocolate, yummm...

It was a lovely fall weekend in November when Yann and I took the train over and in the spirit of all that is Franco-German, we ate our share of delicious food (sauerkraut, tarte flambée!) and drank fabulous beer.

Ahh it did our body a world of good to escape the noise and pollution of Paris and bask in the autumn sunshine...usually while eating and drinking by the quai of the quiet canals.

Métro, Boulot, Dodo

Yann and I took what I call our 'mini-moon' just after the wedding at the beginning of September. It was basically an extended weekend in the South of France - Marseille and Cassis. A region known as Provence.

For four days, we sat by the pool and soaked in the sunshine, ate fabulous seafood at sidewalk cafés and took long runs on dusty trails down to ocean inlets known as the 'Calanques'. It felt like the first time in a LONG time when we could both just sit back, relax and enjoy.






















My how far away that minimoon seems!

I have now since started working in Paris. I remember back in 8th grade my french professor taught us the phrase: "Métro, Boulot, Dodo'. These were french 'argot' - slang words to make us feel a little more hip. The phrase meant: subway, work, sleep. We learned that this was the life of the Parisian. Their daily grind.

At the time, I imagined little gray people, looking sad and wiped out, packed in like sardines inside a subway car and down on life. And I must say, I wasn't too far from the truth :)

But I am happy to be back at work and, while I get used to the "métro, boulot, dodo" daily grind, here are a few brief observations about working in France:

1) Everyone says 'bonjour' and 'bonne journée!' to everyone on the elevator - EVERYONE! I left work tonight with 7 people telling me 'have a good night!'. Fabulous, if not sometimes awkward.

2) Work starts late and ends late. When I arrive in the office at 8:45AM, I am the first to arrive. But when I leave at 7:30PM, I am the first to leave.

3) Lunch is mandatory. It could be 30 minutes long, or 1 hour 1/2 long, so long as it happens. There are no exceptions (that I've seen anyways...). Another win (because I love to eat...and not at my desk).

4) "Want to grab coffee?" here means: "Let's take a walk down to the kitchen so we can push a button and get a shot of Nespresso!" While this initially was a let-down, I have been making a calculation of how much $$ I will be saving by not taking my daily Starbucks break as I used to back at home.

5) No positive feedback from anyone is normal. The ultimate goal in working in France is to have no feedback whatsoever - this means 'Great Job!'

Those are my initial take-aways from living and now working in France. I will keep you posted on what transpires and how I may be spicing up my daily routine so as not to turn into one of the hundres of gray, sad Parisians I see in the métro every morning.

09.02.2010

For a bride-to-be, waking up the morning of her wedding with pink eye is never a good thing.

And so was my plight on the morning of September 2. Note to self: NEVER let the MAC lady talk you into 'doing your makeup' two days before your own wedding. Bad idea.

Thanks to good advice from my dear friend Annaelle and the lovely pharmacist located just below my apartment, I was provided with the drugs needed to allay my sorry eye. At least, long enough to make it through the wedding ceremony and celebrations.

The day began with my dear friends, Carole, Annaelle, Natacha (Yann's sister) and myself, waking up to a beautiful sunny day and oh, yes, the FranceTelecom man who finally came to set up our internet service.

The girls had spent the night previous with me and we'd kicked the guys out the day before. So let me tell you, walking into an apartment full (nearly) of lovely ladies at 8AM was NOT the worst day for Mr. France Telecom man.

Flash forward several hours to Carole and Annaelle making French 75s (per my request, aren't they dears?) in the kitchen as Natacha and my friends Brad, Cecilia (freshly arrived from Sweden) prepped for an afternoon of wedded bliss.

Above: Annaelle working away in the kitchen, putting together her delicious French 75s - or rather, MY delicious French 75 :)

Below: Me with my friend Natalie, taking a break in the sun...









The bliss began at the Parc Monceau, where Yann and I had agreed to meet - for the first time since the day before - on the bridge to exchange vows. Just the two of us...and some friends who joined to take photos :)

























It was quiet, it was beautiful and above all, it was very meaningful. Tears were shed (ahem, just a few due to not wanting to mess up the 1) stricken eye 2) makeup) and of course, heartfelt things were said and then we were off to Mairie du 9ème for the marriage ceremony with friends and family.












At City Hall, Yann and I were met by friends and family. It was a lovely, relaxing time. We were able to take a few photos and visit with (mostly) everyone. As we entered City Hall and the very royally decorated 'salle', we sat in anticipation. Nervous smiles, sweaty palms, very welcome bursts of laughter.

And finally, the arrival of the Mayor himself.

As a sidenote, we were blessed to have the actual mayor marry us as it is usually a civil servant who is sent to carry out marriages. And what a wonderful job the Mayor of the 9th did. Citing quotes from American writer, Paul Auster, and doing well to incorporate our personalities into the ceremony. It was an emotional and very moving ceremony.




Yann and I said 'I do' - well, he said 'Oui!' and I said a very lively 'YES!' in front of our friends and family, and our witnesses, Eric, Guillaume and Annaelle.

Following the exchange of rings and I do's, all of those invited to the ceremony were also invited to join in what is called the Vin d'Honneur. This is a relaxed cocktail hour with appetizers and champagne.

We toasted together and spent a nice time visited with all of those invited to share in our special moment.

Above: My Dad with Carole and Annelle - of course he finds the pretty girls!

The evening continued with roughly 20 of our friends and family at the Laparousse - one of the oldest restaurants in Paris. Located along the Seine, the scene was warm and inviting, and the people around us made it so. It was a little envelope of love and support.What was probably the most touching moment of the evening were the speeches given. Yann stood up and (in english!) gave a toast to all for joining us, and to my mom. My mom was so missed. And I know she would have so loved to have celebrated with us, to have been with me this day. I know she was there in spirit - she was. But I wanted more.

My dad then gave a speech - toasted Yann and I and recalled funny stories from my childhood (how lovely!) and also spoke about what my mom had said about Yann. How she expected 'this day' to come and how she welcomed it with open arms.

There was not a dry eye in that room.

Yann and I finished the evening by dancing to 'At Last' - selected by yours truly :) What other song can summarize our relationship?

And so, it was, that 'At Last' Yann Genton married Kelly Roberts and what a day it was...pink eye and all.

On Stolen Seasons

There is a scene in Shakespeare in Love (one of my favorites) where Gwyneth, ahem, I mean Viola, says to Will Shakespeare "This is not life Will, this is but a stolen season."

That phrase has been on my mind lately as wedding preparations are made, family arrives in town and celebrations take place. These are joyous, life-bubbling moments that I so wish we could keep in a little glass jar and open on those dreary, not-so-fun days. They can be rare, but boy oh boy are they great reminders that our lives matter and that there is something bigger that us at play here.

Last night was also one of those moments. Mr. Yann took me out to a lovely dinner at a place named KONG, a rather hip restaurant known for its cocktails, I mean, its glass domed roof that shares an amazing view of the Pont Neuf, the river and the lights of Paris. After dinner, Yann asked if I'd like to take a walk (verrrry unusual behavior). Of course I said 'oui!' so we stroled across the Pont Neuf bridge to the left bank and found ourselves in a little square called the Place Dauphine.

Even at almost 11PM, there were groups of older men playing Petanque in the square under the glowing street lamps. The restaurants folded into the outside of the sqaure were quieting down a bit. Just a little giggle here or the sound of a fork on a plate there. And the air was warm.

It was there, on a bench in the square that Mr. Yann proposed to me. (Wait, wait, what? Didn't he already propose? Aren't you getting married like, tomorrow? You may ask.) What can I say, we're doing things backwards over here.

It was sweet and sincere and it the moment was perfect. Now if only I could find a little glass jar to capture that moment for a rainy day.

But I know that there will be more moments to come...tomorrow :)

On Mini-Bios and a Moment in San Francisco

You know how sometimes, when you read a book on the topic of travel, or food, or love - or travel, food and love - you flip to the back cover to read:

"Susan Smith grew up in rural Vermont and studied International Socioeconomics at Harvard University. She met her husband in London and now lives in Paris with her 3 beautiful children and a dog named Bart."

Those little bios bug the heck out of me on MANY levels but mostly because they fail to mention the red tape, hundreds of documents and thousands of beads of sweat that go into a life (and love) lived abroad. Perhaps there is a limit to the amount of letters or words used. Or maybe that part just isn't that romantic.

I say all this because I have been back in the US this past week, wrestling with the French Consulate in San Francisco to obtain my Visa de Long Sejour - which will allow me to stay in France following my marriage to Mr. Yann. The good news: I WON. They gave me the visa!!!! The sort of bad news is: This is just the beginning of the paperwork process! YAY!

The last week has been a bit of a blur. I was able to see some dear friends and revisit American life - pizza and delicious IPA at Delphina Pizzeria, veggie burgers, amazing coffee at Four Barrel in the Mission District and breathing the clean, crisp, ocean air.

Here are a few photos of my time in San Fran. Yes, they have more to do with food than anything - come on, what did you expect?

Now I can take a deep sigh and look forward to the week ahead - the week that Yann and I get married. Woo hoo!

Just me, Mario, Patricia and Ina

These past few weeks, I have been basking in the splendor of having a big kitchen. For the first time in my life, I actually have room to chop, stir and make an even bigger mess than usual.

Who would have thought it even possible in a Parisian apartment?

Like a baguette in a dish of olive oil, I have been soaking up the thoughts, cooking tips and recipes of my dear friends Mario Batali, Patricia Wells and Ina Gartner and I have never eaten better.

I can't lie, it does help having a daily farmer's market just down the street with the freshest of summer's bounty.

And as Mario shared with me just last week as we were sharing a glass of Viognier together, 'A chef is only as good as her ingredients.' Such words of wisdom that man speaks.

With all the delicious tomatoes on hand these days, I decided to make this recipe: Scalloped Tomatoes with Croutons - orginally created by Ina but readapted by SmittenKitchen.com. Instant love. The pictures do not do this dish justice, but I promise you will be back for 2nds, 3rds...

Scalloped Tomatoes with Croutons

- 3 tablespoons olive oil

- 2 cups bread from a French Boule or Italian bread, cut into 1/2 pieces or smaller (really, any fluffy fresh bread will work)

- 2 1/2 pounds of whatever delicious tomatoes you can find, cut into 1/2 inch diced pieces. (Make sure to keep all that yummy juice!)

- 3 gloves garlic (or 4 if you like more...), minced

- 2 tbls sugar (I put in just 1 because tomatoes are already so sweet)

- 2 teaspoons Kosher salt

- 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

- 1/2 cup thinly sliced fresh basil leaves

- 1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

As a sidenote, Yann called the dish 'Very American'. I called it 'Very Delicious'.

The view from the kitchen...

The New 'Quartier'

As promised, here are are few photos of my new neighborhood - the Village des Batignolles.

For a brief history (and a quick glipse of my nerdyness), the name Batignolles is a mash of the latin words 'bastillole' and 'bastidiole' meaning 'small country home'. Hmmm...I guess I could see small country homes tucked away in this small corner of Paris say, 200 years ago. As I found out from further research (ahem, Wikepedia) this area of town was actually its own independant, rural quarter until Paris bought the land in 1860 under Napolean III.

And to that I say, "Thank you Napolean III for replacing dusty farm land with quaint cafés, refreshing bars and delicious bistros!!"

Today, the Village still has a sense of separateness about it. Many of the shops here remain independant, 'artisanal', specialty shops - from private booksellers to frame and antique shops - shops that have unfortunately become fewer and farther between in Paris as more expensive, trendy chain stores have taken over the city in the past few years.

To compare this area to Seattle (what can I say, a girl can leave the city but the city can't leave the girl), I would call it the Ballard of Paris. Without the locks :)