The Mundane Matters

The gray sky and drizzle of rain are welcome today.  To simply call it a gray sky is not fair.  The sky looks pillowy and soft, like a favorite old velveteen comforter. 

Instead of a 30 percent humidity, we now have 74 percent.  My sinuses feel alive again.  They aren't used to dry air. 

This is a good day for working at the computers and doing the laundry.  And so it goes.

Yesterday was very warm.  To avoid sitting in a hot restaurant, we opted for finally trying the Italian place in the ground level of our building.  We ordered the Pizza Diavolo -- essentially, a pepperoni pizza.

The place is tiny, but somehow 16 chairs have been squeezed into the space.  The kitchen must be tiny, too, and it must have a very hot oven to turn out such good pizza.  So, while we could have dined in the restaurant and received a 20 percent lafourchette.com discount, we opted for take-out instead. 

The proprietors are Claudio and Rita Ari.  We met Rita, and she was adorably welcoming and charming.  She told me that my French was very good. 

We chatted, ordered the pizza, and left for the bakery.  In fifteen minutes, we returned, the pizza was hot and ready, we paid up, thanked Rita and told her we'd see her again soon.

Up in the apartment, we opened the pizza box.  Instead of round, this pizza was amoeba-shaped.  That just made it look all the more authentic.

Plant on the balcony give us an
endless supply of cherry tomatoes.

The crust was thin and very pliable -- perfect for folding and eating New York-style.

The sausage slices were small but delicious.  And the cheese and tomato sauce were delightful.  Yes, this was the best pizza we've ever had in Paris -- and we've been summering here for 21 years now.

I wouldn't say it is the best pizza I've ever had.  That honor goes to the long-gone Rotolo's pizza that was on West Fifth or West Third Avenue in Grandview Heights, a suburb of Columbus, Ohio, many years ago.

Now I realize that I cannot give you the name of this fine Italian deli/pizza parlor/resto because that would reveal our exact address in Paris.  I never do that in this blog. 

Astute readers can figure out the neighborhood, however, and with a little footwork while in Paris, they can find this Italian gem.

While I'm on the subject of casual food, I want to mention the peanut butter I found in FranPrix a couple weeks ago.  This "Ethiquable"  (ethical and equitable) brand is made by a cooperative of women in the northern part of Nicaragua.  The coop has 3500 members.  This spread is 95 percent peanuts, with a little sunflower oil added.  That's it.  No sugar, no chemicals.  It is delicious.

I don't remember the price, but I'm sure it was very reasonable.  And the ingredients are certified Fair Trade.

While I'm still on the subject of mundane things like pizza and peanut butter, let me mention the leaf blower I saw in use several mornings ago on a busy Paris avenue.  In the U.S., many communities are thinking of banning leaf blowers because they are so darned noisy.  We've started talking about it on Sanibel Island.  I'm interested in the example set by the Village of Key Biscayne, where they have banned gasoline-powered leaf blowers -- because of both noise and air pollution.

Unquestionably. electric leaf blowers are quieter.  I've heard some on Sanibel.  But the one I heard here in Paris the other day was almost whisper quiet!  And it was doing a great job, sweeping away big chestnut and plane tree leaves as well as litter. 

Peace and quiet matters in Paris.  This city is plenty noisy, but it is nothing like Rome, London, or New York. 

The mundane matters.