Paris - Day 4
Wednesday 2010-04-28
Last night I had perhaps the best culinary experience of my life. But let’s back up first.
After lunch yesterday, I went to le Hôtel les Invalides and saw Napoleon’s tomb. It was shockingly cold inside the mausoleum/basilica. (As I suspected, that was the gold dome I had been taking pictures of over the walls of Rodin’s garden)
I then toured a bit of Musée l’Armée, chiefly the medieval and world war sections. The harrowing landscapes of bombed-out cities still get me, the senselessness of war.
So it was already 4 o’clock, and my feet tired; I decided to return to the hostel. There I met my new friend Herb, a hedge fund manager from Chicago with a contagious taste for the good life.
I became his navigator on a 2km adventure through the 11th arrondissement to locate a highly recommended bistro on rue Paul Bert: le Bistrot Paul Bert. We both ordered the Menu (3-course meal, entrée + plat + dessert), and Herb got us an excellent wine (Morgon 2006).
My entrée (appetizer) was a plate of thinly-sliced veal, covered in some sort of pesto-like spices. It was raw, and could have been lamb brains for all I know. It was certainly a unique experience for my palate.
The plat (main course) was also veal, but prepared in a more recognizable manner (medium rare) and accompanied by yellow potatoes. Add a dab of mustard, and it melted in my mouth with a spicy zip.
The dessert was soufflé au Grand Marnier, and it was absolutely divine. We both promised to start our diets the next morning.
We got a relatively late start today (9:30, zut alors!). The islands in the Seine were the target (Iles de la Cité et Saint Louis). The first stop was Sainte-Chapelle and le Palais de Justice (French high courts). The courts are housed in an impressive building, and of course Sainte-Chapelle was splendid (especially the stained glass).
Notre-Dame was next, which while impressive in it’s own right, was rather similar to Westminster Abbey. Unlike Westminster, they do not forbid photography. :)
We walked around Ile de la Cité, and onward to St. Louis (the smaller island) in search of lunch.
We ended up constructing a picnic lunch from local shops: a baguette from a boulangerie, jambon (ham) & salami from a charcuterie, and some mysterious hard white cheese from the cremerie next door. The baker spoke English with an English accent, the butcher a very broken patois, and the jolly old cheese maker we had to pantomime and point like monkeys. He really paired the cheese well, though.
Picnic in hand, we went down to the park at the tippy end of Ile de St Louis and down to the riverwalk to eat. There were several Parisiens sunbathing along this concrete beach (it was ~26 C today, a bad day to wear jeans).
And, perhaps inevitably, there was some fat dude in a G-string. Every bit as scarring as it sounds.
After the picnic, we had a glass of red at the bar (comptoir) of a nearby brasserie. Then northward to the Place Georges Pompidou, and the National Gallery of Modern Art.
I wish we had skipped the rotating exhibition on the 4th floor and just went straight to the “actual” art. It was some insufferably brittle show about women in art (so lots of body parts and vaginal simulacra). The permanent collection’s good stuff was very good (Picasso, Kandinsky, et al), but I was so exhausted by the floor below that it was very hard to enjoy as fully as I would’ve liked.
We passed through a really cool-looking Métro station on our way down (Arts et Métiers #3, swathed in steampunk brass and portholes), and I made a point of stepping off while on the way back to the hostel and taking a picture.
