Fête de la Musique

The first official day of summer started off rather gray and cloudy but the sun made a brief appearance before the day was up. We spent the evening wandering about the city and listening to music. Without a pucca plan, we were able to stop at street corners, in front of cafés and mairies, and at various parks to listen to whatever caught our fancy. We returned home with exhausted feet, tired and weary but we had a good time! Here are a few photos from the evening:

Bonne année

I closed the year with a quick trip to Japan,

with buying lots of sweets from a confiserie, and enjoying them with my husband,

wandering the boulevards and rues of Paris and taking in the festive lights,

decorating a teeny, tiny tree with handmade ornaments, and cooking up a big feast.

We brought in the New Year with champagne, and then, more wanderings about town,

with visits to museums,

and cat sitting for a friend,

waiting patiently in queue for a baguette at our neighbourhood boulangerie,

and cooking, and eating some more.

Here hoping the New Year brings health, wealth, and happiness. Bonne année, mes amis!

Après le storm

Turns out that is was a record breaking snowfall. A full 11 centimeters. A generous dump of 4.5 inches. And, Paris was totally unprepared.

It was a beautiful sunny day après la neige, so I took another walk. At my own risk, I might add.

While most of the "catastrophic" snow had melted, the rest had compacted down and was icy. No shovels in sight.

But what does a girl from India know about snow? I was just trying hard not to grin and to not break a leg.

Snow in Paris

This is what it looked like outside my window before I decided to take a walk yesterday.

No one was really prepared for that much snow ('that much' by Paris standards).

Not pedestrians,

and certainly not cars. The roads were in a general state of disorder as cars slid around in the dirty snow. I saw a fancy Mercedes being pushed by five or six police officers with it's rear tyres spinning furiously, and I saw a young woman break down in violent sobs in the middle of a busy intersection with sheer exhaustion from pushing her scooter that had stopped working. It wasn't all bad, but that was when I stopped talking pictures.

I heard a couple of girls giggling and singing, "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas..." at the top of their lungs while crossing the street, and I saw several kids and puppies enjoying the wet, heavy snow on their walk back home from school.

I certainly enjoyed the snow. I loved it!

Thanksgiving in Paris

This year we get to enjoy two Thanksgiving meals. Last night's dinner was a pot luck, to which I had agreed to bring cranberry sauce. I fretted a bit about finding fresh cranberries after having so hastily volunteered, but I easily found some at La Grande Epicerie.

I added some sugar, fresh orange juice, zest, and finely minced ginger to the cranberries, which cooked down to a delicious sauce.

I'm looking forward to our second Thanksgiving dinner this evening. I realise that not everyone who reads this blog celebrates Thanksgiving but for those that do, I hope you have a good one. I, for one, have much to be thankful for.

Now I know

Most mornings start with a cup of tea (sometimes a cup of coffee) and a croissant (often times a pain au chocolat). For an entire month, I have been buying croissants and pain au chocolats the previous evening. What a fool! For one whole month!

Last week, I was inspired to take a walk in the morning, and I came back with the most delicious croissants. Buttery and flaky on the outside, soft and light on the inside. So much better than when I had been buying them in the evening.

Yesterday, the air was cold but invigourating as we walked to the boulangerie in the morning. Our reward for getting nicely dressed before our morning tea - a perfect pain au raisin. Never again will I buy in the evenings.

Diwali in Paris

It rained all day on Diwali, but that didn't dampen our spirits. We met up with a few friends for a late lunch at Krishna Bhavan. We shared a few plates of the samosas and onion bhajjis while we waited for our main order. I got a masala dosa and chai to follow. It was a satisfying meal but let's just say I still haven't eaten a fantastic masala dosa outside of India. I would go back to try their thali but would skip the samosas and bhajjis. If you like chai, I recommend it. It hit the spot.

We wandered around a bit, familiarising ourselves with the neighbourhood. I stocked up on spices and would have bought more but the store was very crowded. Next time.

We bought some sweets to celebrate Diwali and then headed south along Canal Saint-Martin, eventually stopping by at Louis Vuitton to check out the Diwali lights.

I have to say that being in the store was strange because I am not typically one to make a beeline for the Louis Vuitton store on Champs Elysees but we went anyway, took it all in and headed home after a long day.

Trying to get a metro back to our apartment, our tickets wouldn't work. Yes, they were valid. We were trying to figure out what the problem was when a woman started talking to us. Assuming that she was asking us to hurry up and get out of the way we tried to move, but she very kindly let me pass with her through the ticket gate, on her ticket. She even held the door open for my husband to pass. When I thanked her and tried to explain that I couldn't understand why our tickets didn't work, she said pas grave. She didn't really have to help us, but she did.

Several friends and acquaintances shared their experiences about Paris with us when they heard that we were moving, and I've had much time to reflect on their comments. I've even read a few books about the various cultural differences. I have to say that so far Parisians have been nothing but nice. You know, in their culturally different sort of way, but always nice. Every person that I have spoken to has tried to understand 'my' French and assist me. At the markets at grocery store, on the street, at the boulangerie. Nothing but nice. I know, now that I've said it, it's going to bite me in the behind, but the kind lady in the metro made me do it.

And it was Diwali. Hope you had a good one.

Happy Diwali

This is a photo from last year in India. No rangoli for us this year but we are going to the Indian neighbourhood at Gard du Nord tomorrow to soak in the festivities. The plan is to try the vegetarian thali at either Sarvana Bhavan or Krishna Bhavan. I'm also hoping to stock up on spices and other Indian treats. And if we have the time, we might check out one of the Louis Vuitton stores; we hear they are decorating for Diwali this year. Diwali in Paris!

On being a confused foreigner

I have never been in any country for more than six weeks where I couldn't speak the language with fluency. That either means that I know a lot of languages or that I haven't been to many countries! Well, I can speak English and two Indian languages fluently, and I used to have basic French on my resume. But since moving to Paris I've decided to scratch that off the list. Seems like four-year olds here can manipulate the language better than I can. I hope to put it back on the list at the end of our time here - perhaps I'll speak better then.

I share this with you so that you can better imagine first, the surprise and then, utter confusion I experienced at Le Bon Marche a few weekends ago. We were wandering the store gawking at women toting Hermes handbags, browsing through the books, sniffing at perfumes, and in general being flabbergast at the prices, when we stumbled upon a fairly substantial crafts section in this fancy-pants store. Knowing the French shop-keepers' dislike for customers touching their wares, I cautiously walked the small isles, not touching any of the yarn or the extensive and luxurious Liberty of London fabric that they had. I noticed red TBM signs with 20% off marked on several of their yarns. [I didn't know at the time, but TBM=tres bon marche=sale, in plain 'ol English. I googled it after coming home. Yes, google is a verb.]

Anyway, as I was picking out some yarn for a scarf, I notice the saleswomen taking away some of the TBM marked yarn. It wasn't very organised, as they didn't target all the sale stuff, but most of what was in the larger bins and not the yarn on the shelves. It was only 6-ish in the evening and the store didn't close for another couple of hours. I was tres confused. Why were they putting up all the stuff already? on a Saturday, when people would be coming out to shop? When I inquired, the saleswoman told me (I think) that I had two minutes before the TBM was over. What?! So I hurried along, still confused, picked out yarn, and successfully bought some on sale.

Here's what's I got:

Of course, for a red beret to be worn with flair in Paris. Not sure which pattern to use yet - suggestions welcome.

I cast on immediately for a scarf - 26 stitches, 2x2 rib. I've long since finished making it but haven't blocked it yet. It's over 5 feet long and is cosy, squishy, and WARM. It is the only scarf I've ever knit for myself, and I'm certain that I'll wear it a lot this winter. Modeled photos to come.

Also on the needles, but the yarn was not purchased at Le Bon Marche -

Knee-high socks that I started in India using Trekking XXL; 60 sts on US 0 needles, toe-up, short-row heel. I finished the first sock and I cast on for the second in India, but turned the heel this weekend, and it's time to knit the increases for the calf. I can't remember exactly what I did on the first sock, but it should be easy enough to tell by looking at the completed sock.

Tweed Beret from Interweave Knits Winter 2006 using recycled yarn; I unravelled one of my husband's sweaters that shrunk pretty badly years ago. The beret is not slouchy enough - I didn't check gauge - and I think I'm going to frog it.

So that's what I've been working on. If anyone can help solve the mystery of the hurried end of TBM, feel free to enlighten me. Till then, I shall remain a confused desi in Paris.

World Wednesdays: Paris

I've had the opportunity to travel a fair amount this year but I haven't yet managed to sort through all the photos, ponder over my journal entries, or even try cooking some of the tasty dishes I tried along the way. With moving around so much and with most of our stuff in storage, it is hard not to feel a bit scattered. So this is a first in a series of posts that details some of my observations and thoughts from this last year of travel. I thought I'd start with Paris.

Parisians might think this next statement bold. Or even absurd. But Paris sometimes feels a whole lot like India. Big city India. Not like New York or D.C. but more like Bombay or New Delhi. I think it serendipitous that my husband and I spent so much time in India before our move to Paris - "good training", as we like to say in India.

A few observations -

Let's start with the greve. Within two weeks of being in town, there were people protesting on the streets. I had only ever read about French strikes in the newspaper and watched reports on the news. But this time I stood in the middle of the rue and watched hundreds of people protesting. In India, we like to protest a lot as well. We have morchas for everything from Bt brinjal to movies about child brides. Effigies are set on fire and cinemas are torched. Liberty.

What about all the merde? Parisian sidewalks are full of dog poop. Some stretches more than others. I've seen several posters encouraging pet owners to pick up after their dogs, and I hear there's a new law, but there is still a healthy amount of dog poop waiting to be stepped on. Especially by the unsuspecting new-to-town-ers. Just so you know, I haven't stepped in any yet. My 'training' in India has paid off. In Bombay we had to deal with not just dog poop, but big cow patties. And yes, sometimes human poop too. Moving on..

People like to walk straight into you on the sidewalks in Paris. Sometimes they are unarmed, but other times they come armed with prams carrying little children, fabric carts carrying groceries, or parapluies waiting to take out an eyeball or two. They just don't step aside.

A couple of weekends ago, there was a hand scribbled note in the elevator up to our temporary apartment. It was written in French but we read it and chuckled. It went something like this "...no heat, the lifts don't work, expensive parking, and now, no water...", and then it said that the apartment's management sucked. We felt bad for the person who wrote it. We unlocked the door to our apartment only to realise that there was NO running water in our flat as well. Not in the loo, not in the kitchen, not anywhere. It was Saturday afternoon. The problem was not fixed till 4:00 PM on Monday. Wow, that even beats our experience in India!

What? No, I'm not complaining. Just saying - I feel right at home. Shopkeepers seem like they don't really want to sell you anything, no one smiles at you (initially, anyway), and women wear their hair long. Meme en Inde. I've fallen in love with Paris - with all it's cliched beauty and it's not-so-chic side.

Walking around Paris

Yesterday started off dark and cloudy but I set off with my camera anyway. I started my adventures with a Metro ride to the north and wandered all the way south, well beyond la Tour Eiffel. The camera started to feel heavy towards the end of the day but Paris really isn't a very large city - perfectly enjoyable to explore on foot. The sun came out and I truly had a wonderful time. Here are a few shots -

Sacré Cœur

Not really sure what this is...street art?

Porte Saint Martin, I think.

Pit stop - falafel sandwich at the famous L'As du Fallafel.

No photos of my sandwich; I needed both hands to wolf it down.

Notre Dame

Writing on one of the ponts crossing the Seine.

I stopped by Pierre Hermé for my first macarons, which were overwhelming to pick because there was a queue, and I couldn't see the different kinds available. Anyway, I picked a couple of the Infiniment Chocolat and a couple of the Infiniment Caramel, knowing that I couldn't go wrong. They were perfect! They made it back safely to the apartment but again, no photos, since we ate them too quickly after dinner. Maybe next time.

Mixing it up

It isn't very surprising that my carbohydrate intake has gone up significantly in the last two weeks. Good thing I'm not counting. We are in Paris after all, and as cliché as it might sound, I have been stopping by a boulangerie every single day since we got here.

My lack of a sizable French vocabulary, and the pressure of people queuing up behind me waiting to order, had me a little stuck. Stuck ordering baguette traditionnelle, pain au chocolat, and croissant. Not that I haven't been enjoying these; I just didn't know how to ask for anything else.

So last week when a friend suggested that I try a new bread each week, I set off to a new-to-me boulangerie with a definite goal. From my carfeul homework, I knew that Poilâne didn't sell baguettes, so it was a good place to start since I couldn't chicken out, and I had to order something new.

I came away with a few slices of their famous levain, feeling rather pleased with my little victory, and for venturing out of my comfort zone and mixing it up.

I might have picked up a familiar treat as well!

The bread was delicious, smeared with butter and a sprinkle of sel de mer. I'm not sure what I'm going to try to order at the boulangerie this week, but I'm looking forward it.