Saturday, June 16, 2012
Paris, France
Bonjour!
I am getting accustomed to Paris’ pearl grey skies and the lack of sunshine to bask in. Overcast heavens contribute to my malaise and it was all I could do to drag myself out of bed this morning to do some more sightseeing.
After the disastrous sandwich of yesterday, when I wondered what all the fuss was about with regards to Eric Kayser’s culinary skills, he redeemed himself splendidly at brekkie. I feasted in my appartement on his croissant which I slathered thickly with Bonne Maman Orange Marmalade, Buerre de Bordier (absolutely scrumptious butter from Normandy with crystals of salt in it), Nutella and peanut butter (all spread separately, of course). And his pain au chocolat is quite simply the best I’ve ever tasted. With cafe au lait, it was indeed manna from the heavens. I was set for the day after my breakfast fit for the Roi himself.
Off to the Petit Palais:
The Petit Palais, located right opposite the Grand Palais just off the Champs-Elysses, is the home of the Musee de Beaux Arts de la Ville de Paris (the City of Paris’ Museum of Fine Arts). I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect, but two things drew me there:
1. It is always gratuit (free).
2. I really wanted to explore the building which, like most French palaces, is spectacular even from the outside. I could not imagine what the interior would be like.
I took the metro to Champs-Elysses-Clemenceau from which the museum was just a hop, skip and a jump. Most folks hadn’t gotten out of their weekend beds yet; for the first half, I pretty much had the place to myself. Although no guided Highlights Tours are offered on the weekends, the museum map is a detailed document containing floor plans, a fine introduction to its history and many lovely pictures. Using it to help me along, I started in the vestibule (just behind the magnificent gilded metal gates) and raised my head to admire the wonderful paintings on the dome and the carvings all over the walls.I learned from the floor plan that the Museum was built in the first decade of the 20th century to house the treasures of the Universal Exposition of 1900 to Charles Girault’s architectural designs. Inside, a number of artists collaborated to decorate the ceilings and walls with paintings and moldings and to install the mosaic flooring.
Being a great fan of glass art, I was absolutely delighted to find a special exhibition on the art glass of Emile Galle, Daum and Lalique in the very first salon in which I entered. Each item was exquisite (and there was also an example of Favrille glass from New York’s Louis Comfort Tiffany).
Further in the museum, which turned out to be so extensive that the name Petit Palais is quite a misnomer, there was every conceivable medium of art on display–from paintings and sculpture to jewelry, porcelain, pottery, silverware, etc. The collection moves chronologically from the treasures of the Louis-es and their varied reigns to the early 20th century. These rooms were filled with tiny enamel boxes, watch cases, etc. as well as a series of tapestries from Beauvais (a French manufacturer that started up in imitation of the wares produced by Gobelins–a French house that is well known and located near the Jardin des Plantes not far from my apartment). As one walked through the galleries, there were 17th century works by Rembrandt, 18th century accoutrements popular with the fops of the period, 19th century paintings that included big names like those of the Impressionists–there were several Manets, Courbets, Monets, Renoirs and even a Mary Cassat. Excellent work by Carpeau (whose study in black marble for Ugoline and his Sons was in the Museum–the final version in white marble is in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York) filled one entire gallery. There was a really outstanding Art Nouveau carved wooden cabinet and a superb painting by Louis Ducie of Van Dyke Working on His First Painting, which was picked up by the Sevres porcelain factory and reproduced on a vase. Both the painting and the vase sit side by side in the museum. They were simply superb. Perhaps, however, the most outstanding feature of the museum is its splendid wrought-iron staircase which curves gracefully around the floors and unites the art works within.
So, of course, a word about the building which was truly stunning: Viewed from the formal gardens concealed inside, one realizes Girault’s floor plan which was octagonal. I took a number of pictures of the lush ornamentation on the building’s facade.The museum deserves much more than the two hours I was able to devote to it. I would say it needs at least three. It had been my plan to get there by 10.00 but by the time I did walk through the doors, it was 11.00 am and I had a lunch appointment at 1.00 pm. If time permits, I shall return to take in the rest of the exhibits at my leisure–for the museum is gratuit, isn’t it?
Making a New French Friend:
At 1.00pm, I made my way back to the main entrance to meet Livia, the step-daughter of my Lyonnaisse friend Genevieve. Livia, who is Chriselle’s age, adores America and Americans and nurses the dream of living one day in New York. She was delighted to meet me simply because I happen to be from America. For my part, I liked her because she was funny, friendly, spoke English without being self-conscious about her grammar or her accent and was willing to switch to French to allow me to practice! What a sweet kid!
Shopping at Marks and Spencer on the Champs-Elysses:
Well, Livia asked me what I had in mind to do with the rest of the day. It was still raining and she hadn’t brought an umbrella–so I shared mine with her. I requested her to take the metro with me to George V stop so that I could buy some goodies from Marks and Sparks. And that was where we went next. Laden with the dark green bags which she helped me carry, we then went on to the Ile de la Cite for lunch.If she was amused that I was in France and purchasing British food, she did not say so–for which I was grateful!
Lunch on Ile de la Cite:
Another hop on and off the metro brought us to the Hotel de Ville which looks much more presentable without the Roland-Garros tent in front of it. The rain continued and grew heavy but we found our way past the Parvis of Notre Dame to Rue de la Huchette, also known as Little Athens. There, in a tiny restaurant called Le Chat Qui Peche (The Fisher Cat), we ordered the Menu Complet (which was a steal at 12 euros) with a beer each for 4 euros (which was highway robbery). The food was good: three courses–entree, plat and dessert. Livia went for the Avocado Salad but I could not resist the Moules en creme Normande (Mussels in a Normandy Cream sauce). Our choice for our plats was identical–steak-frites. The steak was done just as we had asked: medium rare and was not too large a slab of meat. The fries were equally sensibly proportioned and were served with a side salad. And our dessert (also identical–creme caramel) was fabulous. It took me straight back to my Mum’s home-cooking for she always made a great “Caramel Custard”–which is what we were raised to call it in India. I raised the last sip of my glass to the memory of my Mum and sighed with satisfaction. It felt so good to have company, to be able to savor each mouthful while sharing introductory conversation with someone young and enthusiastic about life. I have been enjoying my solo meals as well–don’t get me wrong–after all, this is France and the food is fantastic. But it is the companionablility of sharing meals that I miss.
Changing of the Guard at Palais d’Elysses:
After our delicious meal, Livia suggested we “bavarder” (chat) for a bit and “flaner” (stroll around). I told her that I would like to cover the area around the Grand and Petit Palais and continue on one of the strolls in the DK Eye Witness Guide. She was game and so off we went. Our rambles took us to the Rue de Faubourg St. Honore–which I had never visited. And then suddenly, there it was–the Palais D’Elysses, the official residence of France’s President. Of course, since the elections just took place and a new President was sworn in (Francois Hollande), the home is in a state of transition. Nicholas Sarkozy has probably moved out but Hollande hasn’t yet moved in. Still at 5. 00pm, on the dot and as if on cue, just as we arrived there, the main ornamental gates of the palace were flung wide open and the Changing of the Guard occurred right before our astonished eyes. I mean, it was not a patch on London’s Buckingham Palace because it invovled a total of six gendarmes dressed with a bit more swagger than the usual ones with gold epaulettes, but it was a treat. And the dozen or so tourists strewn around the gates clicked away (including moi!). It was all over in less than 10 minutes, but it was still a nice unexpected aside in our rambles.
We continued strolling past the embassies of the United States, the United Kingdom and Japan (indicated by their respective flags) and past the Church of St. Michael (which announced Services in English). We passed the fancy-schmancy designer boutiques on this most chichi of Parisian streets. When we reached Hermes, we made a right turn towards another gorgeous palace–the Hotel de Crillon (now an expensive hotel) and then entered the Jardin de Champs-Elysses to pause by one of the large fountains that decorate French gardens. The strict precision of French formal garden design was evident in this space and I could see the hand of the landscape designer Andre Le Notre in its conception.
Visiting H. Dehilerrin Store and Mass at Church of St. Eustache:
Then, it was about 5. 30 pm and time for me to make my way to the Church of St. Eustache near Chatelet as I wanted to catch the 6. 00 pm Mass. I know that tomorrow I will be on a day trip to the Vaux le Vicomte–which means I will not be able to attend church. Checking through my guide book, I found that the Church of St. Eustache is listed as one of Paris’ “Best Churches”–so it made sense to see it.
Just before we entered the church, quite by chance, we found the kitchen supplies store called H. Dehilerrin and since The Barefoot Contessa says it is a must-do, well, there I was, checking the place out. I discovered a treasure trove of kitchen stuff, much of which I already possess. I did, however, covet a set of tartlet pans and little moulds to make Rum Babas–so perhaps I will get them on a future forage around the store.
At 6. 00pm, I found my way into the church. Livia said goodbye as she prefers to attend Mass on Sundays at a chapel closer to her home in La Defense. In the 100 odd years it took to construct the church, the Renaissance was at its height and its decorative elements were expertly incorporated into the church’s soaring interior. It was marvelous to be able to sit up right in front and listen to the choir practising and to realize that they were singing—in English! Well, it turned out that they were a visiting guest choir composed of high school students from San Francisco! They provided a capella music throughout the Mass which made it a very special experience indeed. After Mass, I walked around the church to take in its splendor and was very glad that I had found my way into this very beautiful place of worship.
Of course, by then, I was tired again, and could think of nothing more comforting than to hop on to the metro and get straight home for a nice cuppa. And that was exactly what I did. I spent the rest of the evening Skypeing and getting ready for my excursion with my friends to the Chateau known as the Vaux le Vicomte about which you shall soon hear…
A demain!