in search of – European sensibility
To say that I must be a European at heart is no understatement. (you’ve heard this before) Every time I touch down, I feel like I have gone home. I adore how Europeans cling to their way of life – while Americans seem to have some insatiable need to explode everything – to expand, duplicate x millions, – all the while diluting and degrading the experience they, at least in some cases, initially sought so carefully to offer. At the same time, they work to convince themselves and consumers that these are “economies and efficiencies of scale”, that they are saving money and they are getting something of quality. How I have learned to not appreciate that term, “economies of scale” , aside from its delineation in an Econ textbook- not to mention what this marketing strategy does to the landscape of our towns and communities, and to mom and pop stores in downtowns everywhere. (Sorry, big box stores and chains……)
What appeals to me here? Just about everything – ok, maybe just not the smoking – that is truly the only thing I can think of – but, by the time I left, I found it wasn’t bothering me any more. I love to see Parisians walk to buy a baguette here, their cheese there, their confitures, pastries, chocolates in each respective shoppe and meats from the butcher. This may not be efficient shopping but it keeps the community and it’s customers knitted together and “intimate” – a great word. And it keeps the aura, livelihood and the skills of the proprietor alive and well — and, their landscape remains an array of charming shoppes and the fabric of each neighborhood. That they continue to strive to preserve this manner of living and their own network of a “village” is what I support, praise and adore. This is no trip to Ikea or Costco, where, besides not knowing from where or by whom your baguette was baked, the experience is an overload of mass-market noise and confusion – just my opinion – there is indeed no intimacy in this model, nor knowing from whom your product emerged and, in essence, your village has disappeared into dust. (sorry this is really fodder for another post).
At breakfast the next morning, I enjoyed a lovely time in the hotel atrium, eating what the French don’t eat – lovely fresh eggs with a dreamy shaving of gruyere or comté cheese over the top, and reading the International New York Times. French cheeses, like their butter, are enough to make one wish to live here. Period.
I came upon an article about the the Roca brothers, owners of El Celler de Can Roca, #2 on the list of the World’s 50 best restaurants, in Girona, Spain. The story describes how these three brothers are closing their restaurant for 5 weeks this Summer to make a pilgrimage to 6 cities in the Americas, starting in Houston, wandering along to Mexico City and ending in Peru, to explore cuisines.
Once again, what struck me as so totally telling about their most European of sensibilities and, what I coalesce around and love so very much about life here, was the statement that they are not interested in opening any other restaurants in near and distant outposts – and why? Because they can’t control the quality of their food – and therefore of the experience. Ah yes, this is why I yearn to come here – the sensibility of the small craft chef, baker, merchant – they get it. Their personal hands-on commitment to their ingredients and their plates is tantamount to their philosophy and execution – and their success too, by the way. That one sentence in that one article completely and thoroughly nailed why I was indeed in Paris in July, why I yearn constantly for the sensibility of my favorite western European countries and why I was willing to pack up my bag, leave the east coast US summer behind and take the chance that I might encounter some hot weather here in Paris – the Costco and Starbucks model erased from my mind (yes, there are Starbucks in Paris – ugh).
The Roca brothers care about small scale sensibility, where every element of the dining experience they present can be controlled and perfected – that they wish to only cook for a maximum of 55 seats per night. This is what is endearing to me and I wished to search out the execution of this model here too.
Partir à pied à nouveau – was I. It wouldn’t be accurate to say that I came to Paris merely to look at their flowers and eat their apricots – but I did. One of my favorite fruits is celebrated here – the apricot, like those in Austria and Italy as well, and they are a feature to celebrate in Summer here. And so off was I to find some. Those photoed above are just the first selection I made and returned to my room with. I would find many more.
Park-dwelling is a great pastime in Paris – at all times of the year as we found last time. On Saturday morning, I strolled along to the garden behind the American Embassy and spent a quiet hour sitting in the sunshine on a bench and photographing their flowers. The last time I was here, things were just barely alive, being that it was the end of March. I wanted to see what the Parisians grew in Summer. I wondered to myself if it was silly to snap photos of roses and flowers here – weren’t they the same as the ones at home? Well, no they’re not – because they are “of Paris”.
Here are a few shots of the roses and surroundings found along the allé marcel-proust, in the small park behind the American Embassy.
perfection!
Later in the week, I shot these pictures in the same park – including the biggest and most beautiful thistles I’d ever seen:
these are about 8 feet high
Christin finally arrived in the early afternoon on Saturday. We were off together to have lunch (steak frites) and to explore together. She wanted to meet Fa-roun for the first time and to do the “walk to the Eiffel Tower” as well and so off we went, discovering these wonderful shops in the neighborhood along the way:
Fa-roun comes out to meet Christin
Perhaps my favorite find of the week was Bellota Bellota at 18 Rue Jean-Nicot – home of Iberian ham in Paris – an entire shoppe dedicated to basically one prime offering! Crazy in love! And, this is why I come:
http://www.bellota-bellota.com
You can read a lot more about this online.
More wonderful shops along the way – love, love, love! The pristine quality of their fruits and produce in general is so wonderful that I had to suppress the urge to fill up my bags – knowing I could not eat nor take them home on the plane. Spectacular!
amazingly beautiful
there are no bargains in Paris, this is true
and, a long while later, we arrive at our destination. This journey was a lovely one:
