We'll Always Have Paris - Part Deux

When I travel overseas I like to fool myself into thinking that I am somehow more in tune to the local scene than the average "tourist". I make it a point to study local customs and learn a little of the language. I can manage to say "one beer" and "one more beer" in at least seven languages. Experience has taught me that if a restaurant has the menu translated into English, German and Japanese, the dining experience is usually "less than optimal". If the menu includes photographs of the dish next to each trilingual description, I head for the hills. Getting out of the hotel and going native is my choice whenever possible.

Chiko heard somewhere that people in Paris carry baguettes with them everywhere they go. This urban legend was actually confirmed, as we encountered numerous people walking down the street with baguettes firmly implanted in their armpits.

As part of my quest to fit in we purchased a baguette and took turns holding it throughout the rest of the trip. Saturday morning broke dark and gloomy, so we breakfasted on coffee, part of the previous mentioned baguette, a bit of cheese and some duck sausage that we picked up the day before.

The market we saw near the train station was nowhere to be found, but we headed a few blocks over to Rue Mouffetard and explored the shops. Mouffetard is a market street with fixed shops that are open everyday (as opposed to the day markets which set up and tear down every 24 hours and rotate from neighborhood to neighborhood on a weekly schedule).

There were cheese shops, fishmongers, fruit and veg stands along with a variety of specialty purveyors of chocolates, coffee, teas, etc. Having lapsed recently from our fruit and vegetable challenge, we picked up some lovely apricots and cherries and snacked while we walked.

Once the market bug was out of our system and the sun peaked out from it's cloudy hiding place, we hopped on the metro and headed off to one of the most famous bakeries in the world. Poilane is a tiny shop specializing in pan au levain, a sort of French sourdough that is quite famous in the artisan baking community. In addition to the bread, we sampled some lovely butter cookies, but that's a story for another day.

All this wandering made us a bit peckish, so we popped into a neighborhood bistro for a bite of lunch.

Chiko chose the chevre chaud, a salad topped with broiled goat cheese crostini.

I thought I was going old school when I ordered a croque monsieur, but what I got was a thoroughly modern open faced sandwich of ham and cheese on a lovely piece of that Poilane sourdough bread. Jet lag was setting in so we walked back to the hotel and had a great afternoon nap.

In the evening we headed back over towards Rue Mouffetard to explore the restaurant scene. We noticed several restaurants specializing in the cuisine of the Savoy region in the southeast of France, bordering Switzerland and Northern Italy. The restaurants were all decorated like ski chalets, with roaring fireplaces, exposed beams and even cuckoo clocks. The menus included a variety of fondues and other regional specialties. We settled on a restaurant and grabbed a table.

Chiko ordered Fondue Bourguignonne, which is a dish of beef cooked at the table in a fondue pot filled with hot oil.

It is served with a variety of dipping sauces and is actually similar to the Japanese dish Shabu Shabu.

I went for Raclette, which is a sort of deconstructed fondue. The server brought a small electric broiler to the table, along with a plate of cured meats, cheese and boiled potatoes.

I broiled the cheese on a special raclette pan until it was nice and bubbly, then poured it over the meat and potatoes.

After such a rich dinner, we opted for coffee and a digestif in lieu of dessert then took a nice long walk.

As the evening wound down we came upon a large crowd in front of a late night creperie. The chef was cooking and filling a variety crepes, both sweet and savory for the post bar crowd.

Figuring "what the hell, we're on holiday", we shared a chestnut creme filled crepe and called it a night.