Dear Monsieur Construction Worker...

Please go back to singing. Please. Stop yelling at your young apprentice, Javier. You know he's young and lacks the skills and experience that you possess. But yelling isn't helping him, or me. And you must stop telling him to "toot sweet!" Now you've got me "toot sweeting" as well. And I didn't come here to toot sweet.

So please, start serenading me and your lady-love once more.

Merci. Merci beaucoup.

Amparo Sanchez

I was fortunate to see this woman in action tonight. She and her band are nothing short of amazing! And to hear a concert in Spanish/bad-as-my-own-French was just the cherry-on-top!

Watch. Listen. And go buy her CD. I did.

Almost forgot the linky-link!

Monday, Monday.

It's cold and rainy today. I had planned on visiting Institut du Monde Arabe, but they're closed, as many places are today.

Even my neighbor lady is staying in on this cold and rainy day!

Parc des Buttes-Chaumont

This has to be one of the most beautiful parks I have ever seen. Ever. It's a bit out of the way, and definitely not touristy. A lot of picnickers and runners were there. It's on a Butte, so it's hilly. It was quite amusing watching the people run in their various get-ups. I even saw one gentleman running, looking like he had just come from a fitting at Brooks Brothers. Really. And one young lady apparently counldn't run without the ubiqitous scarf. I just love the people here.

And the parc smelled like Spring. Like lilacs. And hyacinths. And green. I will definitely go back. On a weekday. They run like they drive here.

Dear Monsieur Construction Worker...

...Thank you for serenading me every morning. And I mean that sincerely, no snark. Your (what I imagine to be French love songs to your beloved) singing touches my heart every morning as I get ready to face a new day in Paris.

And your happiness is evident. And contagious.

So thank you, Monsieur Contruction Worker, as you reconstruct the building next door, with your daily serenades of I-don't-know-what, but they sound tres adorable!

Next door to me, they are reconstructing a courtyard. And every morning, I hear the lovely sounds of the construction worker(s). It's really difficult to take pictures of, as I have to climb on the bathroom sink and look through a very, small, old window.

But I hear him every morning. And just wanted to say "merci, merci beaucoup."

Welcome to the Food Edition.

It's all about the food today. Walking around Paris, you can't resist the fruit and vegetable stands, the bakeries, the meat shops, the wine stores, the chocolate shops, or any other kind of foodstuff your heart desires.

Looking for honey? There's a store for that. With hundreds of different varieties of honey; lavender, thyme, orange blossom, apple blossom, cherry blossom, and any other blossom you could imagine.

Cheese is in a category all it's own. I found my way to Chez Virginie today. A sort-of famous fromagerie. It's overwhelming to say the least. I bought two little pieces that I'll have in my salad today. And the best news? Chez Virginie is just a short walk from the apartment.

There are also stores dedicated to olive oil, olives (not the same store, mind you), corners that sell only oysters, just oysters, nothing else. Creperies are everywhere.

And that is just the tip of the iceburg when it comes to food here.

Right now I have stock cooking from the carcass of my little poulet roti. And I'm pretty sure that this is what heaven smells like!

And today, I caved. When I passed the patisserie with these beautiful macarons, they just had to come with me. Very bad, I got one of each flavor.

Enjoy some of the tastes of Paris. I'm sure I'll have more.

In Search of Le Poulet Roti.

On Saturday, while wandering the streets of Montmartre, I came across a charcuterie, or butcher. In the window was a huge variety of meats and sausages, some familiar, others quite strange. But the one that caught my eye, the one I would be back for was the whole Bresse chicken. Bresse is often said to be the best chicken in the world, and with it's unique blue feet, why wouldn't it be. And at 16 euros a kilo, it better be magnifique!

I'll get back to the chicken shortly.

This morning I got an early start and made my way to La Defense to see Le Grande Arch. It has to be one of the most impressive buildings I've ever seen in my life. Truly a work of art. Not knowing where I was going, and the directions exiting the Metro were a bit spotty (huge Metro station, by the way, it even has a mall), I followed the "sortie" signs to Le Grande Arch (even though at one point the signs pointed in both directions, oh yes they did). Coming out into the daylight, I looked up and boom! There's Le Grande Arch in my face! And it is Grande. Tres Grande. I walked the plaza away from the Arch to get a photo. Then walked up those marble stairs. Me, with the terror of heights above two feet. Then I got a bit of vertigo when I looked out at the view and nearly panicked at to how I was going to get back down those marble stairs. It was a moment that passed relatively painlessly. I didn't take the tour up the building, I thought I might just be pushing my abilities a bit much. The "cloud" in the middle of the building is used to control the wind that's created by the Arch. The anchors that hold the "cloud" are bigger than a Smart Car.

From La Defense, I took the Metro to Place de la Madeleine to see the famous Fauchon and Hediard markets. Markets, not really, except for Hediard. They had some really unique fruits from Asia. I was tempted to buy one or two but decided I would instead focus on my Poulet Roti. I did get some peppercorns (I'm nearly out here at the apartment), fleur de sel with basil, lavender, and lemon, a couple of beautiful lemons and some olive oil.

I did treat myself to lunch at a cafe on Place de la Medeleine and had steak au poivre with fries. The steak was delicious and the fries were of the frozen variety. Actually, I really didn't mind.

From there I had planned to walk home. Not an easy walk. Either from the standpoint of distance or the route I would have to take. And this time, I had to use my trusty maps, on more than one occasion. And damnit, sometimes the street that was supposed to be there, just wasn't.

Although I did pass by Galleries Lafayette, Printemps, no less than three H&M stores, a Ben & Jerry's with a line that was more than ridiculous, about a dozen beautiful churches, and way too many shoe stores for my own good!

After dropping off my bags, I went back up to Abesses to get my bird. And a cafe.

I don't care what anyone says about the French. Everyone here has been so very, very nice to me. Even through my atrocious pronunciation, they are fantastique!

Little did I know that whole birds here are exactly that. The whole bird. Head. Feet. Innards. And more than a few feathers. When I motioned to the butcher to cut the head off, I don't think he was surprised at all. He continued to clean it up, just for the silly Americain, and even took a blow torch to it to get rid of any feathers. Trussed it. Wrapped it. And handed me the Bresse sticker. I should probably get it out of the garbage and save that sticker. I doubt I'll buy another one. They are crazy expensive birds. This little bird will last me quite a while.

So far, I have resisted the Patisseries. And the macarons. And it's been a few days since I visited my boulangerie. I'm crazy about the vegetables. And I buy a container of strawberries everyday. And even the yogurt is better here. And I don't miss Diet Coke. Not at all. But I can't seem to get enough water. I don't leave home without a bottle of water. Ever.

Le Poulet Roti is nearly finished. A photo will be up later. In the meantime, Bon Apetit!

P.S. - On the last photo, what looks like pepper on the bird, isn't. It's the torch marks. How freakin' cool is that?