There is such a thing as a free lunch

Like so many people who care for apartments and apartment buildings in Paris, Maria the Cleaner is from Portugal.  We -- Tom, me, and the two owners of this apartment -- refer to her as Maria the Cleaner to distinguish her from Maria the Guardienne, who is the concierge of this building.  Maria the Guardienne is also from Portugal.

Fading roses and elegant statue in the Place Adolphe Chérioux.

Maria the Cleaner is very nice to us, especially to me.  We give her a little something extra when paying her to clean.  We do it just so that we are paying what we think is a living wage.  We don't know why she charges so little for her time.  We can't just pay her the small amount that she asks; it is too little.

She's been cleaning this apartment, once a week, for many years.  She needs no instruction.  It is best that we just get out of her way when she comes to clean.  She really knows what she's doing.

So after our greetings, Tom and I bowed out for a stroll and lunch.  We walked to the Beaugrenelle area to look for a mundane item in the housewares and electronics stores.   It was really just an excuse for something to do for a while before lunch.

We went to a swanky brasserie on the edge of the shopping area -- a place where we've lunched before.  The menu has changed, and the place is clearly successful, full of people -- some of whom even made reservations for lunch.

At noon, we were early enough that we were able to get a table.  I sat on the banquette where I could watch a panoramic view of the vibrant intersection near the Seine. 

Lunch took a while, as we expect it to in a popular Parisian restaurant.  We were patient and relaxed, and we made no complaints.  When at last it was time for the check to have arrived at our table, a slightly embarrassed server appeared instead.  She said they'd lost our check, and so our lunch would be free.

What?  I quickly offered to tell her what we had, so she could reconstruct the check.  But she was adamant in saying that the lunch was going to be free because they lost the check.

We finally thanked her, and then Tom gave her 20 euros as a tip when we were leaving.

We're not sure what really happened.  My fish and chips had been superb, but Tom's barbequed ribs were inferior.  We wondered if the kitchen realized that, and so insisted on not charging us.  Or, the check had been mistakenly given to a table that had a larger tab, and the resto staff didn't want to draw attention to the snafu by trying to correct it.

Fish, extra crispy on the outside and softly delicious
on the inside, with green curry and tartar sauce.  

I don't want to mention the name of the restaurant because I don't want to get anyone on the staff in trouble.  Believe it or not, I have reason to think that some restaurant owners in the 15th read this blog.

The 15th arrondissement's restaurants are under-represented in articles and reviews in American newspapers such as the NYTimes and Washington Post.  I think the reason for this is that some food columnists live on the right bank, in proximity of the Marais and Les Halles, and so that area and the Latin Quarter receive more attention than they should.

In my opinion, the 15th is the best area for dining out in Paris.  The 7th is excellent, too.  And these are the areas where so many Parisians go for an elegant dinner.  No coincidentally, the 15th and the 7th, as well as the 16th, are decidedly less touristy than many other parts of the city.

We worked at the computers through the rest of the afternoon in the clean apartment. Tom rummaged through the attic for a copy of the Norton Critical Edition of Huckleberry Finn.  He found it!  Then we took another walk in the evening, after dining on a salad at home.  The temperature was a delightful 74 degrees F, and cooling.

This was a simple walk, from one small park to another, beginning with the Square Saint Lambert, on to the plaza in front of the 15th's town hall, and ending up on the Place Adolphe Chérioux, where luxuriant roses were fading but still lovely.  In each place, we sat for a while to soak up the ambiance.  That's what older people do in Paris!

The French Mini Moves In

Tom was missing the Google home mini already, after just a few days away from home.  So on my morning walk, I stepped into Darty (a chain of appliance/electronics stores) to buy one for him.

This is a special shopping weekend, with stores opening early and closing late, and special sales everywhere.  The Beaugrenelle mall's Darty was supposed to open at 9 today, but because of the Beaugrenelle mall security, I guess, the store didn't open until 10.  So I had a nice stroll on the Allée des Cygnes, then joined the masses entering the store when doors opened just before 10.

The Eiffel Tower is used to sell everything,
even hosiery.  Nice calla lily, too.

It took me several minutes to find the display for the Google home minis.  Judging by the amount of space devoted to them in the store, I'd say the Google home minis must be popular in France.  They are also somewhat more expensive in France than in the U.S.

All the mini boxes on the shelves were empty!  A helpful young man who works for the store approached me, and I said (in French) hello and that please, I'd like to buy a Google home mini, but all the boxes are empty.

He led me to the computer terminal where I had to give my name, address, postal code -- just to buy a smart speaker!  I paid by credit card, and then he printed out a full page of information.  He led me over to another desk, where I presented this paperwork and waited while my mini was retrieved from the back room.

So bureaucratic.  So French.

When I had my mini and paperwork in hand, the man at the counter wished me a good weekend, I thanked him, and off I went, up the stairs, checked by security, and out onto the hot street again.

This was one of the better experiences I've had with Darty over the years.  We've purchased a microwave, a coffee maker or two, a toaster, and a number of other little things there in the past.  Sometimes the sales people have been surly.  Not so much anymore.  They're pretty nice, but still bureaucratic.

The Games in Blue shop on the rue du Theatre has an
adorable miniature wood shop that actually works.

I set up the mini and within an hour, Tom was asking her what is the capital of Togo, and what is the capital of Ethiopia.  Google has also answered questions about the time and weather this morning.  Soon she'll perform the services of a French dictionary.  We will keep her busy enough.

The French for smart speaker is "enceinte intelligente."  The noun ''enceinte" (speaker) is the same as the adjective "enceinte" (pregnant).  I wonder about that etymology!

Missing the Onion

July 18, 2018 -- In early July of last year, the Bermuda Onion -- a restaurant in the Beaugrenelle mall not far from our apartment -- delighted and surprised our family.  We dined there on a hot day because we knew it was air conditioned and because we knew they served hamburgers -- something our granddaughters said they wanted for dinner.

Nicely landscaped area in front of the former site of
the Bermuda Onion, in Beaugrenelle mall

Our expectations were not high; in the past, the food we were served there was merely good or correct.  Last year, however, all five of us were delighted with the food and service.  You can see what I wrote about the experience in this blog entry for July 7, 2017.

Yesterday evening, Tom and I were warm and hungry after our walk on the Ile aux Cygnes, so we entered the mall and headed for the Bermuda Onion.  After climbing the escalator, we realized that the restaurant and several other businesses in that part of the mall were closed.

I asked a security guard about the Bermuda Onion, and he answered that it was gone.

We left the mall and decided to dine a L'Epopée, a former favorite restaurant.  I say "former favorite" because the food last night was mediocre, and the reception by the owner was strange.  The only very nice thing about the dinner was the service.

On the way home, we speculated about what had happened to the Bermuda Onion.  With its fabulous location, wonderful view of the Seine, interesting menu, and great food at good value, how could it have failed?

I said to Tom that I bet I could find out what happened.  In my research this morning, I almost completely solved the mystery.

The restaurant opened when the mall was new, in 2013.  It was a re-creation of some Parisian bistros of the same name that existed from 1985 to 2004.  Those earlier Bermuda Onions were the creation of Patrick Derderian.

The newer Bermuda Onion had a sleek blue, gray, silver and bronze decor that mimicked that of a cruise ship from another era.  It was cool.

The first chef at that new Bermuda Onion was Valentin Néraudeau, a young man from Toulouse.  He was, earlier that same year, a contestant on the Franco-Belgian edition of the show Top Chef. 

Somehow, it became known that Valentin has a spectacular body, rippled with muscles.  It may have become known on one of the episodes from Top Chef.  The other team (not Valentin's) had one test in which they cooked for four famous swimmers, including France's Laure Manaudou.  That team of chefs had to swim several laps before cooking.  It is possible that the other team was also at the pool, in swimming attire, and that's when people saw Valentin's bod.

At any rate, he became famous for his physique, even though he was dropped from Top Chef at the end of season 4.  

The next year, 2014, he came out of the closet.  He is a gay man; he said that the world of restaurant cuisine is very macho, so therefore he'd been slow to come out.

He left the Bermuda Onion job in 2014 or 2015.  That's when Diogo Patricio was promoted to chef there.  Valentin went back to Toulouse, where he is now a chef de cuisine for hire.  He also has a cooking show series on YouTube, specializing in teaching how to make really good dishes in four minutes.  It is called simply "Chef Valentin," and there is a new episode every Thursday at 7pm, France time.  The show has more than 10,000 subscribers.

A mediocre but attractive duck breast main course at L'Epopee

Very recently (July 9), the Beaugrenelle management announced that Galeries Lafayette will be opening a department store at the mall.  That big store is replacing Marks and Spencer and many other businesses in that side of the mall.  So the Bermuda Onion is just one of several entities whose leases were not renewed to make way for the big department store.

I do not know where Chef Diogo Patricio is going. According to LinkedIn, he lives in Paris and is from Portugal.  I don't know exactly when Bermuda Onion closed its doors.  It could have been as recently as early this month, when the Galeries Lafayette announcement was made.

Perhaps Diogo, like many Parisians who come from Portugal, will just take a long July-August vacation in his home country, taking some time to think about what to do next.  After that, we certainly hope he returns to Paris to be a chef again.  We enjoyed his cooking so much last summer . . . .  We wish him the best.

Warm day, cool night

View from the Pont de Bir Hakeim

August 23, 2017 – On a perfect summer day for walking along a quiet stretch of the Seine, we started from rue Linois and made our way along the cobblestones of the left bank up to the Pont de Bir Hakiem.  Along the way, we admired attractive houseboats and then noticed a large metal thing on display.  

To satisfy my curiosity, I read the lengthy explanation on the sign posted under the thing, which turns out to be the nose of a former ocean liner named the France.  Here’s a translation:

The Nose of the France is at the Port de Grenelle

Today, of this fabulous ship that was totally dismantled in India in 2006 in the workshops of Alang, there remains only this piece that has braved the waves of all the oceans. 

The former FRANCE in numbers:

Launch: 1962

Nose of The France

Length: 315 meters

Width: 33.7 meters

Draw:  10 meters

Passengers: 2,032

Crew:  1100

Number of bridges:  12

Average displacement when loaded:  57,600 tons

Speed:  30 knots

Power:  160,000 ch

The France that became the Norway, is no more, but a new liner is being built.  A team consisting of enthusiasts, counting among them thousands of professionals in the conception and exploitation of cruise ships, mobilized to take on this ambitious project and offer to France a new emblematic liner, with a human scale, modern, ecological, luxurious, really innovative, and of a different design.

In the milieu of all the contemporary liners who, for the most part, resemble it, this new FRANCE will be a perfect illustration of “the French exception.”

See www.lenouveaufrance.com.

We climbed up to the street level to take the Bir Hakeim bridge to its mid-point, where we turned left onto the Île des Cygnes.  As often is the case, a team of Japanese wedding photographers was there in the middle of the bridge, photographing a Japanese bride.

The sun was almost hot, so we were grateful for the many old and new trees along the island.  When we turned behind the Statue of Liberty to take the Pont de Grenelle to the rue Linois, the sun blazed in our faces. 

So we ducked into the Magnetic building of the Beaugrenelle Mall for a block of air conditioned walking.  The mall is still popular; it shows no sign of declining. 

Sweetbread ravioli with mushrooms in pecorino cream sauce at Bacco

We rode the escalator in the impressive, modern atrium, up one level to follow the mall to its other end.  We then exited at the east end and found our way across the busy Place Charles Michels to the shady avenue Emile Zola.  Tom entered the bakery near the Place Alfred Dreyfus to buy a baguette.  There he continued a conversation he’d been having with the baker – about the different French and English words that mean sour, tart, and acidic.

There is something satisfying about having a conversation with a French baker about how to describe how something tastes.

Vitello tonato -- fine slices of veal wrapped around minced tuna in mayonnaise
with veal juice, vinaigrette emulsion with capers, and eggplant caviar.

In the evening, we took another long walk – down to the noisy rue de la Convention, southeast to the rue Brancion, northeast to the peaceful Place d’Alleray, and northwest on the rue des Favorites to that imposing square in front of the town hall of the 15^th.   It was a short walk from there to our restaurant destination, Bacco, on the rue Mademoiselle.  Somehow, we arrived exactly on time, at 8PM. 

At Bacco, we were remembered and greeted warmly, even though the restaurant was already filling up with locals and several tourists.  I think this was the first night the restaurant was open, following its vacation closure.

Seared red tuna with lobster bisque, springroll with sweet-and-sour sauce,
with a salicornia tempura.

The kitchen at Bacco is partly visible through a window into the bar area of the restaurant.  I watched four tall men working away diligently back there.  A special amount of time and effort was spent carefully and artfully arranging the food on plates on the counter under the window.

As beautiful as they were, our starter courses were each somewhat bland.  But the main courses were both beautiful and tasty.  Tom’s risotto with prawns was especially nicely spicey.  My red tuna was cooked perfectly – mi cuit.

Spicey risotto with prawns.

I was glad that I’d reserved our table well in advance, because this restaurant was practically completely full when we were served our first courses.  The manager thought we were waiting too long for our dinner, so she gave us a free glass of wine and a new bottle of water.

Days are growing shorter.  Daylight was gone when we walked up a brightly lit rue du Commerce toward home.  

Another lovely day

A beautiful day for photographing the Eiffel Tower.

August 8, 2017 – I’ve been reading “The Lost Mandate of Heaven,” by Geoffrey Shaw, for the past four days – in between all the walking and dining in Paris.  Last week, Tom and I met Nicole, a member of the Ngo Dinh family that figures so prominently in this book about the build-up of the Vietnam War and the assassination of Ngo Dinh Diem in 1963. 

I’d hoped that the book would be more focused on the family, but instead it is more focused on military and political history of that tumultuous time.

For military history buffs, I highly recommend this book.  It is well-written and well-documented, by a historian who has excellent credentials.  For the first time, I feel like I understand how the Vietnam War became the quagmire and disaster that it was.

There are plenty of lessons learned from that era.  I can see how many apply in a country like Afghanistan. 

The square and fountain behind the church of St. John the Baptist of Grenelle.

Tom was in the Naval ROTC program at Duke in the early 1960s, the time period that the first several chapters of “The Lost Mandate of Heaven” covers.  He remembers that most people he knew then had not heard of Vietnam.  But then one day, one of his NROTC classmates said that his father had been shot down over a place called Vietnam.  By 1964, when Tom went into active duty after graduation, he and his NROTC mates were slated to go on a radar picket ship, which would likely go up the Mekong River and be fired upon by the Vietcong.  Then Tom’s orders were changed, unbeknownst to him, because the Navy needed an English instructor in Maryland.  Thank heavens.

To read about the discord and disagreement among the top military and political leaders when it came to the subject of how America should be involved in Vietnam makes me sad, but also makes me hope that history will not repeat itself; much more consideration should be given to saving lives.

Dining room at Le Tipaza on the rue St. Charles.

I put the book aside for a while yesterday so that Tom and I could go for a great couple of walks in the neighborhood.  First, we wanted to explore Boulanger, the small- and large-appliance store that has replaced the big old hardware store, Zola Color, that we had frequented over the years.

Boulanger did a fabulous job renovating the tired old Zola Color space, which is vast.  Everything about Boulanger is well-displayed and well-run.  The employees are a far more cheerful and helpful lot than those at Darty, its tired old competitor. 

I think the employees at Boulanger must be treated and paid better than those at Darty.

Tom especially wanted to look at the laptop and tablet computers, because he wants to get something smaller than his laptop when we return to the U.S. 

We’d never buy a computer in France because they have AZERTY keyboards instead of QWERTY keyboards, and we are rapid touch typists on the QWERTY boards.  Also, I think computers bought in the U.S. have better encryption, but I’m no expert on that.

In each department that we explored at Boulanger (except for the computer area, where they left us alone), a friendly employee asked if he/she could help us, and after we explained that we were just looking, they did not bother us.  Even the security guard at the entrance struck up a friendly conversation with us.

Dining room at Le Tipaza.

We took our time looking at all the kitchen appliances, big and small.  We’d just renovated our kitchen back home, so this was of great interest.  I especially noticed the brand names – Cuisinart was not among the various food processors on display, and Kenwood makes mixers and blenders.  Go figure.

Boulanger is the place for audiophiles.  The set-up for displaying and listening to speakers is impressive.

All we bought was a nice pair of Sony earphones for Tom. 

Later, we walked along the peaceful Ile aux Cygnes, and then explored the large Zara store at the Beaugrenelle Center.  Time flew by, and we had to walk briskly to dinner at Le Tipaza on the rue Saint Charles. 

We were warmly greeted there, as usual, and we took our seats in the elegant middle dining room.  I noticed that Kir Royals are reasonably priced there, so I had one.  Then I ordered at Tagine Royal, and Tom had the Grillade Royale – a dinner for royals all around.

Tom indulged in the traditional North African pastries for dessert, and I had a heavenly, homemade, dark chocolate mousse.

We both appreciated the long stroll home after that feast.

Autumn has arrived in Paris.

  (Click here for previous day's journal entry.)

Autumn has arrived in Paris.  After working at the computers, while the sun shone in the late afternoon, we went for a walk.  I thought we’d go to the Allée des Cygnes because rush hour was just starting, and that’s a nice place to go to escape the automobile traffic.

But as we approached the Seine on the rue Linois, the wind picked up.  That wind was chilly, and Tom did not have a jacket.  He shivered.  I suggested we enter the Beaugrenelle mall and do the rest of our walking there.  So we walked through the entire thing, on every level, and then walked through the second floor wing that lead back toward the Place Charles Michels.

The walk back to the apartment along the leafy avenue Emile Zola was pleasant enough, and Tom stopped in the bakery on the rue du Theatre to buy a baguette.

In the evening, we had another walk, down to the rue de la Convention – which is looking good these days -- and over to the rue Saint Charles, then a block south to the rue Sebastien Mercier, home of L’Ardoise du XV.

This was the second time we’d dined at L’Ardoise, although it has been in business since 2012.  The proprietors are Chef Maxime Vilatte and his wife Marie.  Chef Maxime had worked with Philippe Legendre at the Four Seasons – George V hotel, and will David Alves at La Table de Joel Robuchon.  With that solid background, he was ready for his own place.

Chef Maxime and Marie have qualified for the Maitre Restaurateur designation, and that was one of the characteristics that attracted me to the place last month.

Now I’m attracted by the inventiveness of the cuisine.  The food isn’t the same-old same-old; when you’ve been in Paris for months and think you might be tired of French food, you go to a place like L’Ardoise du XV and you change your mind.

I ordered the calamari starter and was pleasantly surprised by its spiciness.  The sauce, which was supposed to be Mediterranean, was actually a piquant curry, and the calamari was not overcooked.  The dish woke up my senses.

Calamari in curry sauce at L'Ardoise

Next came our main courses:  a volaille fermière rotie aux girolles for Tom, and a ventrèche de porc caramelisée, pommes écrassées a l’échalote et ciboulette for me.

Roasted chicken, salad, and purée of potatoes

Tom’s chicken was a tender, juicy pressée of roasted chicken – both white and dark meat – and it came with a velvety potato purée as well as the girolle mushrooms. 

My pork belly was perfectly sautéed, and the potatoes were not écrassée (smashed), they were really a fine purée with tiny bits of green onions and chives throughout.  At first I thought the meat looked like mostly fat, but that was not the case; it was a tender, juicy cut of pork.

Pork belly with purée of potatoes with green onions and chives.

Tom had the homemade millefeuille au chocolat for dessert; it was delicious.

The server was Marie, I think, and she was doing a fine job of keeping order in the dining room.  The place is neat as a pin, and perfectly organized.

In the evening, I resumed reading.  One of the tomes I’m reading now is Emile Zola’s The Ladies’ Paradise (Au Bonheur des Dames), a novel that is roughly based on the rise of the Bon Marché department store in Paris.

I'm photographing the menu posted in the window
of L'Ardoise as Tom watches.

I say “roughly” because there are many differences between the fictional character Octave Mouret and the real-life Aristide Boucicaut of Bon Marché.  In fact, I think Mouret is an amalgam of Selfridge in London and Boucicaut in Paris.  So it isn’t surprising that BBC’s adaptation of Zola’s book takes place in Britain instead of France.  I’d already finished watching BBC’s Mr. Selfridge series, and last night I started BBC’s The Paradise series, even while I’m still reading The Ladies Paradise.

Each time I’ve read a Zola book, I have complained to Tom about what I don’t like about Zola’s writing.  Zola’s style is overly flowery, and sexist.  (Last summer, I read Le Ventre de Paris (The Belly of Paris), a novel that takes place in the old market of Paris, Les Halles.)  Tom says I haven’t read Zola’s best works yet:  Germinal, and L’Assommoir.  Now I’ve downloaded an edition of the complete works of Zola on my Kindle Fire, so I’ll read those next.

I’m reading these in English, not French.  I’d read them in French, but I know that with Zola’s overly flowery prose, it would not be easy. 

I agree with Elmore Leonard, who said:  “If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.” 

Leonard also wrote a handy list of ten “commandments,” that is, things to avoid when writing.  Zola violates the last two of those “rules”: 

9.  Don’t go into great detail describing places and things.

10.  Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.

On that note, I think I’ll stop writing for today.  (Click here for previous day's journal entry.)