Barely a couple of weeks following its opening, Nico’s brother suggested that we met for lunch at “a sandwicherie near Poissonnière”. It was all rather mysterious and upon arrival, I was confused by the name City Café Sandwich but something clicked – I have just glanced through a café-bistrot recommendation a few days earlier and this was the place! Gourmet sandwicherie on Mondays and Saturdays, and restaurant serving fixed-menus from Tuesday to Friday, there is already quite a buzz surrounding this venture by Japanese chef Katsuaki “Katsy” Okiyama, formerly of Robuchon and l’Agapé.
Despite arriving at noon (it opens on Saturday at 12.30pm, although many articles I’ve seen stated Saturday opening hour at 10am or noon), a queue has started gathering outside Abri and when it came to our turn to be seated, there simply wasn’t a table available for 5 pax. There were only a couple of potential tables for 5-6, except they have been split to accommodate groups of 3-4. The rest which remained were tables for two.
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It has been a good many years since I last ascended the Eiffel Tower. If I recall correctly, the last time I went up would be in 2004 with Beejay (his 21st birthday present; a trip to Europe from Andrew and I!) but Andrew assured me it would have been 2006 when he was visiting Paris with me and his then new wife. Either way, 6 years, 8 years, those were a lifetime away. Fast forward and what do you know – us three siblings visiting anew together, them with spouses and kid in tow!
Given the fame of the Iron Lady, to have each deck of the tower filled with visitors is nothing new. But the number of pushy “photographers” trying to jostle for a spot of their favourite views, that’s a whole new level of crazy. It mattered not to them that they were pushing aside a lady carrying a young child but luckily my niece is pretty much the zen-kind of little girl, so she just looked at them curiously then got back to surveying her surroundings.
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It has been a well-charged fortnight with one visitor after another (it’s like we’re running a B&B, but free!) and this week, it’s time for a little family vacation. With my brothers and I living in different countries, a get-together for all of us has never been easy. We’d be so lucky if we manage to all be in the same place together once a year for a few days. Even more precious is when we could squeeze in a rare holiday within this period of time. They are in town to visit and I, for one, am very very happy!
While I’ve always maintain the philosophy of playing tourist on a regular basis – you know, visits to various (lesser-known) museums and walking tours to explore different neighbourhoods – this time, we’re talking the major sights. We’re even talking chez Mickey! Ultimately, our schedule will be dictated by a toddler, otherwise known as my adorable niece. Lucky girl gets to visit Paris at 8 months old!
For now, as time is precious, I’m just going to share this one photo which I adore. Beejay took a series of these by stealth when I offered to hold Elise while her parents worked on snapping some holiday shots. I normally shy away from the camera and prefer to stay behind the lenses, but this works out really well and I think this photo will be printed very soon for safekeeping.
I’ll be back in a few days with more posts (accck all the drafts sitting there which I really really should get out!) and till then, have a wonderful week. :D
One of my favourite treats from the many boulangeries around is les chouquettes. Little airy puffs topped with pearl sugar, it is incredibly easy to munch down a packet of them within minutes and then feel a twinge of guilt for overindulging and/or not sharing. They can be bought on per piece basis (€0.15-0.20 each) or by weight (€2-3 per 100g).
I bake them myself from time to time at home, but given my (bad) habit of baking-by-guestimation, it can be a bit of a hit-or-miss exercise. Oops. When it works though, they are pure delights to behold and taste. The list of ingredients for the basic choux couldn’t be simpler – flour, butter, eggs, water and sugar – staples in pretty much any pantry for anyone who cooks/bakes regularly. In the case of chouquettes, of course one should not forget the pearl sugar to sprinkle over. In Paris, it can be stocked from G Detou.
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For a while, in June and July, I was wondering if summer has decided to bypass us completely and transitioned from spring to autumn directly. There were plenty of grey skies, rainy days, and temperature hovering at miserable high 10s or low 20s. How unlike last year when my coats were practically kept in the cupboard between May and September… Eventually though, the crappy weather did yield in favour of sunshine and how I rejoice – time to celebrate with some spots of ice-cream tasting around town!
Grom
Grom has received a lot of love from my friends and I this summer. Following Anne’s recommendation last year, this gelateria has been a staple favourite and I’d happily take any excuse to swing by for some gelato. This summer, it includes introducing the boy to it, taking visiting friends over, celebrating friend’s new job and simply enjoying the sunshine. Of course, it’s a major bonus that I live relatively close to Grom (20 minutes walk), hurrah!
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Moving around Paris and in Ile-de-France has just been made easier. Hands up anyone who uses Velib’ and are owners of Android phones. Hands up too anyone who has limited zone Navigo passes. Here’s what happened this week…
Biking in Paris
Finally an official Velib’ app for Android!
Thousands of iPhone users have been enjoying the privilege since May 2010, in tracking where one can find or park Velib’ quickly while being out and about the city. Believe it or not, despite Androids being the second largest market share after iOSs, and in recent months have truly trounced Apple’s iOS’s shipments (68% of Android smartphones vs 17% of iPhones in Q2 of 2012), apps for Nokia OVI and Window Phones were developed ahead of Androids. I’m not sure what’s the logic in that… Surely the aim would be to try to capture the most users possible?
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And this is how they ride for free…
Take the public transport often enough and the various methods employed by fare evaders would have been clear. However, as the general consensus holds firm to the principle of “it’s not my business to say anything” it is easy for these folks to get away with it.
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Yet another year in which I fail to make it home for Cheng Beng – a customary “festival” similar to that of All Souls Day on a Christian calendar.
The last time I participated in the tending of our family ancestors’ graves was just before I moved to Europe, half a lifetime ago. Normally the timing simply didn’t work with my schedule but this year, it came incredibly close. I was home for my brother’s wedding recently, and it crossed my mind to extend my holiday so I can finally join my family on this year’s occasion. However, with work being incredibly busy, I didn’t feel it was appropriate to tack on another week to my ten days trip.
And thus, rather peculiarly, I have cemetery in my mind. I think back to the Asian-styled tomb and final resting place of people near and dear to me, and at every turn, I also get flashbacks to the cemeteries that I’ve visited in Paris. Normally, according to my grandmother, one should not go to a cemetery bar specific event (like a funeral) or occasion (like Cheng Beng). However, I am less particular about keeping away from the Parisian cemeteries.
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In many parts of the world, mosques are out-of-bound for non-followers. I’ve even known of mosques which clearly sign-posted that non-Muslims are strictly prohibited to enter. Add to the fact that I’m female, getting access to the compound within these mosques would be even trickier, especially in accordance to traditionalists, Muslim women should preferably pray at home, or otherwise be segregated to a separate room or at the back of the prayer hall or behind certain barriers, not side by side with the men.
Of course, that is not always the case. In certain cities or countries, mosques can be visited by non-Muslims outside of prayer sessions, provided certain guidelines such as appropriate attire and respectful observations are adhered to. This is the face of Islam that is encompassing, encouraging deeper understanding than beyond the portrayals in the media which are often misunderstood and maligned, and fostering links with the community at large regardless of the religion its individual practices.
The Great Mosque of Paris (La Grande Mosquée de Paris) is one which doors are open to all. Built in the 1920s in commemoration of the valiant Muslim tirailleurs who fought on France’s behalf, it has even once transformed into a hidden sactuary for Jews who were being persecuted during the Holocaust. Today, it aims to foster community relationships with believers and non-believers alike, and our guide couldn’t emphasise enough that their duty is to forge understanding that Islam is peaceful by nature and unity belies its core teaching.
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Musée Marmottan Monet is a gem. A little out of the way perhaps, it sits just at the eastern edge of Bois de Boulogne. There are no pomps to announce its presence just beyond a small playground in mainly, from what I gathered, a residential area. However, what’s hidden behind the seemingly plain façade is another story altogether.
The museum is one primarily dedicated to Impressionism, an art movement which I can’t seem to get enough of. I may as well admit now that I hold an annual pass to Musée d’Orsay so I could visit anytime in the year to indulge in my whims for the romance in Impressionist works, not to mention the added bonus of entry to Musée de l’Orangerie whenever I wish. Paris was central to the birth of Impressionism and I believe no better city could have been chosen for it to flourish. Today, Paris is also the best city to admire many of the masterpieces produced during the short time-span of the movement.
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