Letter From Paris
Paris Kiosque - June 2000 - Volume 7, Number 6
Copyright (c) 2000 Harriet Welty-Rochefort - Used with permission.
A predictable thing happens in Paris in May and June.
Visitors start coming to town, first in dribbles, then in droves.
They're everywhere, on the Champs-Elysées, "up" in Montmartre, at the
Louvre, walking around in Notre Dame, gazing in awe at the thirteenth
century stained glass windows in the Sainte-Chapelle, climbing up the stairs
of the Eiffel Tower, having a drink on café terraces, sitting in little
restaurants. They can be distinguished from native Parisians not just by
their dress, which is generally more casual, but by the unmitigated delight
on their faces as they contemplate this fantastically beautiful city and
discover its treasures. (Parisians can be distinguished either by the
manic way they drive their cars (NEVER cross the street if there's a way to
do it underground, especially around the Etoile or Place de la Concorde) or,
if they're on the tube, by the tired look on their faces - "metro, boulot,
dodo" is a French expression which means metro, job, and bed and describes
the humdrum daily existence of the average French worker).
Someone once asked me if it didn't bother me to live in a tourist mecca.
"Au contraire," I replied, "I love it."
One of the reasons I love it is because if you live in a place tourists
come to, it's because there are so many things to see and do. I'd hate to
live in a place no one would want to visit!
Another reason is that when people come to visit, you, the "native" can
see things again through the newcomer's eyes.
One of our friends who was here on a recent visit rented an magnificent
penthouse in the seventh arrondissement right near the Bon Marché department
store; she loved going to the Bon Marché and shopping for food in the
delightful épicerie. She reveled in being able to buy all those patés and
cheeses and desserts she can't get back home and which I buy as a matter of
course. (I don't live in a penthouse though, more's the pity!).
Through her buying, she also started figuring out that there's actually
a lot less work for French hostesses when they invite. The paté is already
made, the cheeses just have to be bought, you can do no greater honor to
your guests than to BUY them a wonderful tarte or cake from a renowned
patisserie like Le Nôtre. One night she came to dinner at our place and we
served her quenelles, fish
dumplings. "Did you make them?" she asked. I just raised my eyebrows
slightly. That meant: "Are you kidding?" I can hardly imagine any French
person - except French chefs - MAKING quenelles. However, what I know and
she is learning, is that when you buy them already prepared, you have to buy
the best. There is a huge gap between substandard ordinary quenelles with a
readymade sauce in a can and the quenelles you buy in a delicatessen and
then poach and cook with your own sauce.
The same friend, a food writer, spent much of her time eating in some of
the best restaurants in Paris. At last count she'd been to Ducasse, the
Pré-Catalan and Apicius and I know I'm missing a few others. This is
wonderful, but since my friends and I are on slightly lesser budgets, when
she suggested lunch one day, we blanched.
We decided, though, to give her an assignment.
"We'd love lunch but YOU choose the restaurant and it has to be LESS
than 100FF each."
Could, we wondered, the same person who frequents Michelin three-star
restaurants, rise to this challenge?
I'm happy to report she did. We long-time adopted Parisians were proud
of her when she announced her choice: a tiny restaurant in a street near
her where the food was homemade and simple and good, the welcome warm, and
the prices right. Six of us went there on a Monday for lunch and were happy
to see that our friend, in spite of her champagne tastes, had found exactly
what we were looking for. Hence we let her in on our secret: when you live
in Paris all the time, THESE are the kinds of restaurants you go to for
lunch with friends - otherwise, you'd never go to lunch!
I strongly believe that neighborhood restaurants are often the best
bet. Since they're for "real people", the prices are reasonable and the
food decent even though the setting may not be everything you dream of. I
encourage people to not always stick to their guidebooks but to try places
that aren't in them just to see what they come up with. You can have some
nice surprises.
What I see through the eyes of my visiting friends is that Paris is a
Persian carpet with many colors and designs and threads. It is so
intricately woven that even those of us fortunate to live here will never
discover everything it has to offer.
That's why, when visitors show up in May and June, we "natives" are
happy to have our eyes opened up once again to the riches of "our town".
Harriet Welty Rochefort is the author of
"French Toast;
An American in Paris Celebrates the Maddening Mysteries of the French", published in January 1999
by St. Martin's Press. The book, which the Los Angeles Times called "wise
and devastatingly funny", is on sale at all major bookstores.
Her forthcoming book, "French Fried, The Culinary Capers of An American in
Paris", will be published by St. Martin's Press in February 2001. You can
reach Harriet at
hwelty@club-internet.fr
and can visit Harriet and
Philippe's website at
http://perso.club-internet.fr/hwelty/
Editor's Note:
Dear Readers, while our writers are always
delighted to hear and to receive comments, both about their columns in the The Paris Kiosque,
as well as your experiences in Paris,
they are unable to answer any requests
for travel information.
Thank you for your understanding.
