Life slowly returns to the norm. After a weekend glued to the news feed and radio and what’s not, Monday was yet another day at work and we went about our days as usual. There are raids taking place all over the country and just this morning, a pretty massive operation took place just north of Paris which took out a few more persons who had intended to cause more harm if they had been able to. Some undoubtedly feel unsafe to wander the streets at the moment, others less so, because we don’t want to live our lives dictated by fear.
The French tricolours are on display everywhere. There’s something oddly soothing in seeing these symbolic colours at public spaces, a reminder of solidarity and that we are going to weather this turbulent time together, emerging with resilient spirits. These past few days have seen the motto of Paris – “Fluctuat nec mergitur”, tossed by the waves but does not sink – being evoked time and time again. How apt.
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Shades of crimson and golden and the hues in between… they are exquisitely beautiful and yet, I am not photographing enough of Paris in its autumn colours. I could think of many spots which I should go but I am paralysed by an inertia anchored by a strange lethargy that I couldn’t quite put my fingers on. With some encouragement from F, we went out for a stroll, breathing in the crisp, chilled air of a November evening.
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Mori Yoshida came up on my radar earlier this year, when I was researching this year’s crop of galette des rois but didn’t quite make the cut (it was a tough decision!). Its location is really not far from where we live, yet somehow I am only stepping into its door recently. With friends are coming over for dinner, I wanted to share some treats with them, plus I feel less guilty about picking up 5-6 different items in one go ;)
Helmed by a young Japanese pastry chef which gave its shop his name, its sleek interior the image of perfect Japanese minimalism, its space clean and airy, and of course, its display shelves hunger-provoking. I admit, I walked in with some expectation of Japanese flavours (think matcha, yuzu, azuki) in his pastries but lo and behold, French classics and fruity creations reign the day.
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The trouble with Paris is there are way too many delicious spots for me to make the round. Each week I add yet another couple of places to try to my ever-growing list, so there’s never any moment where I thought “I have nowhere else new to check out anymore”. If anything, I wish I have a bigger eating out budget…
13 A Baker’s Dozen is a charming spot which has been hiding not-so-quietly in the Cour des Saints Pères. After being there with C recently, I can attest that while the high praises raised expectations, Laurel and her team surpassed them. Very easily at that too. A warm welcome greeted us to this packed dining room on a Saturday afternoon, and looking around, my stomach started to grumble and I couldn’t wait to dig into the “Fancy Brunch” I’ve been eyeing.
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Growing up, prowling the pasar malam at least once a week for food was pretty much a given. Cheap yet delicious street food easily attracted the throng, and at some stalls, show up late and you can forget about tasting their goods. I miss the hustle and bustle of food preparation by the street, the perfection achieved by stall owners who have run their business for (often) decades. I also often chide my younger self for taking such wonderful thing for granted.
With the advent of globalisation, food truck and street food have arrived in Paris, although often with a price tag that had me mentally calculating how much more food I could buy at the same value and I’m not even taking into account currency exchange – just the figure! On the other hand, the joy that I get from reliving my childhood habit is kinda priceless, so who cares if I’m not one of the cool kids and I pay a wee bit more? Luckily, Le Food Market came along.
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I never knew Musée de l’Homme in its past incarnation. For as long as I can remember – well, six years apparently – it has been closed for renovation. Unbeknownst to me, I have actually seen a good portion of its (former) collection of Asian, African, American and Oceanian ethnography appropriated to fill the legacy project of a certain Monsieur Chirac. How lucky for Musée du Quai Branly and what uncertain time it left Musée de l’Homme, as its European ethnographic collection was also packed away to Musée des Civilisations de l’Europe et de la Méditerranée (MuCEM) in Marseille.
From emptying corridors came opportunity to change its mission. Musée de l’Homme evolved and is making a come back with fresh look and a restart. Housed within Palais de Chaillot, I need not have to emphasise what great view it has of the Eiffel Tower, do I? Thanks to my friend Céline, F and I got a sneak peak of it today before the museum opens its door to the public on Saturday, 17 October, and for the first three days, entry to the museum will be free.
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In the southeast corner of the 13ème lies a growing neighbourhood: contemporary block architecture dominates, the façade of each building are attention-grabbing in a different way than the Haussmanmians, and there’s not a lot that’s conventional about many of these structures. From twisted floors to glass-filled walls, from disorderly-placed windows to size-varied windows, from unicolour walls to multi-colours panes, uniformity is not the name of the game and yet they all blend in quite harmoniously with one another.
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I was running late meeting C but my way out from the metro station was blocked by tourists. This is quickly becoming a pet peeve in the month of August. With fewer Parisians and more visitors in town, the escalators are perpetually blocked. Folks, if you are not walking, stand to the right please!
C teased that I’m becoming a Parisian. A good, hearty lunch at L’As du Falafel went a long way to soothe my annoyance, and a leisurely walk to rediscover Marais restored me to good humour. We found hidden corners away from prying eyes and delicious shops that I mentally note to visit when I’m not absolutely stuffed, while chit-chatting the afternoon away.
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I love my museum passes. Main perk? I can drop in to any exhibition I’d like to see at any time and not even have to worry about the queue. Downside? I get complacent and put off certain visits until near the end of the exhibition period. Which was exactly what happened with that of Jean Paul Gaultier – days before it closes!
Admittedly, I had not really planned to go and see it, and was thinking I’d give it a miss. Afterall, I know next to zero about fashion and trends, and with a bunch of things happening in the day-to-day, this exhibition was placed low on the priority list. However, my curiosity was piqued when friends who have seen it found it well-curated, along with a very cryptic hint that it is “special”.
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I prowled around the passages couverts from time to time but clearly I haven’t explored enough of them. In the 2ème, between rue de Palestro and rue Dussoubs, lies two passages briefly-separated by rue Saint-Denis: Passage Bourg l’Abbé and Passage du Grand Cerf. Built just three years apart in early 19th century, they have been well-preserved and a delight to visit.
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