A 3 Hour (food) Tour!

I miss air conditioning. Like I really really miss air conditioning. Like i miss it as much as I miss my family (Brandon and our assorted four-legged fur children) who are back at home. I woke up drenched in sweat in the middle of the night. The days here have been about 85 with not a cloud in the sky to filter the sun and enough humidity to make everything sticky. This top-floor apartment bakes in the heat and all I have to work with is a tower fan that was in here and my little travel fan. I have never been such a believer in a cold shower as the last couple days have made me. After an uncomfortable night’s sleep I really wish I could sleep in longer but I had to force myself out of bed at a decent time to make my morning reservation at Musee D’Orsay.

Not having a ton of time to find breakfast since I was pushing it close and not wanting to have the same frustration as yesterday I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with fixings that were in the apartment and called it good. The open windows teased me with cool air when I first woke up but by the time I walked out the door an hour later it was already warm in the baking sun. Since I took more time getting ready than I should have and was bitter about being hot all night I opted to take the Metro instead of walking all the way. The metro stops are around 1/2 a mile from my AirBnB so I still had a little stroll to get there but it saved me and my feet another mile. So far I am impressed with the Metro system. It’s easy to use, when you can find the stations, very clean, and well staffed with station attendants to help and police patrolling. It was also my first experience with a double decker metro! I felt like I was getting on Amtrak. One or two stops later the Metro dropped me right at the entrance to the museum.

Immediately I liked Musee D’Orsay more than the Louvre. It was way less of a hassle to get in and way less of an insane maze. The first bust to greet me as I entered the hall of statues at the base of the entrance steps had a definite Disneyland Haunted Mansion vibe going for it. I kept waiting for it to become animated. A sleeping woman statue felt all too relatable, I was envious of her nap. A Pan feeding tiger cubs again took me to back to wondering what hallucinogenics these artists had. A bronze and onyx bust of a man from Sudan had such lifelike features it felt like his eyes followed as I walked past. But know what I wasn’t expecting to see? A taxidermy elephant. After being seized from the menagerie of the Price of Orange (after he had her captured in the late 18th century and brought to the Netherlands) by the French Army during the French revolutionary wars she, and her mate Hans, endured a 22 month journey by road, canal, sea, and finally the River Seine to a menagerie in Paris designed for the study and preservation of animals. While Hans only survived four years in captivity, she made it 18 before joining the Museum of Natural History in her taxidermied state. And now somehow ending up on loan at D’Orsay. Classic arts go a long way in reinforcing how badly humans have failed animals.

And lets be real, not just animals. The classics really depict how ruthless humanity is and how innately humans have always been in states of fury against one another. We may have evolved into different expectations and means of civilization but it really frames that it’s hard to be surprised by how much evil exists in so many people in this world.

While it was less crowded, I found the crowds to be way more rude at D’Orsay than the Louvre, constantly pushing forward and standing in the way. This may have to do with so many of the more well known famous paintings residing there. I had never been familiar with Vilhelm Hammershoi in the past (not like I’ve ever studied art history) but I found his play on light to be simply incredible. While I’ve never been a Van Gogh fan, I was drawn to a piece of his that’s definitely my most admired of his works, “The Church in Auvers-sur-Oise, View of the Chevet.” And while it was cool to see his “Starry Night” painting, it wasn’t overly exciting. Until I was walking back after dinner tonight and watching the reflections of the lights on the Seine and able to understand the magic he saw in the scene he chose to depict. And then there was Jean Geoffroy’s “Le Jour de la Visite a l’Hopital.” The incredible juxtaposition of the father at the forefront against the paled scene he was facing, combined with the immense detail, left an eery feeling like he could get up and walk right out of the painting.

Then of course there were many works of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. Tell me the Grinch wasn’t based off of his “Femme au boa noir.” I mean come on, the shape of that face and the look of those eyes, they’re practically twins. I wonder if Toulouse-Lautrec ever considered that works such as a painting on cardboard of a prostitute, “Study for the Medical Inspection,” depicting her getting ready for her regular brothel venereal disease test would ever be lauded as such a treasured piece.

There were other pretty shiny things and artifacts as well but not being able to decipher the French descriptions made it hard to appreciate their significance. And yes, there were many works by Monet but his work has also never really peaked my interest. On another note, what is fascinating how into the realism of the human body so many artists were. I’m not going to lie, I did a double-take when I turned into one exhibit room and came upon Gustave Courbet’s “L’Origine du Monde.”

Leaving D’Orsay I was desperate for lunch on my way to the Musee Rodin and found myself being way too picky trying to find a spot to eat. The problem was I was too hungry and my blood sugar too low so a foggy mind made it hard. I was also feeling a little lonely knowing that it was 3am in California so I couldn’t call home and connect; I was feeling a little homesick. I actually had a place in mind to stop for food that I found perusing the map but when I walked by all the wait staff were standing outside smoking and that turned me off. Other cafes had too many patrons smoking. I finally gave in and stopped at Au Coin de la Rue and let me tell ya, if you are ever in Paris, please save yourself and not eat here! I ordered a glass of champagne and their salad special of the day since the waiter said it was his favorite. I loved that my champagne came with a side of popcorn; we need to make that a thing everywhere! But my salad, complete with cantaloupe, hard tomatoes, a dressing that tasted like mayonnaise, subpar burrata, and prosciutto was, well, terrible. And when he served my food he TOOK AWAY MY POPCORN! It’s not customary to tip at restaurants in France but if it were he certainly had just lost his tip. The food was awful. Even the champagne was subpar. I mean, just look at that salad, everything but the kitchen sink and the only good part was the grilled bruschetta. I found myself wishing that the Starbucks in Paris weren’t so far and few between because I could really use a green tea pick-me-up.

But instead it was off to the Musee Rodin to walk off that meal and see some sculptures. On the way I walked past the official Yves Saint Laurent designer headquarters and it was as secure as any fortress. I would have loved to see what was hiding in those buildings. The Musee Rodin is an outdoor sculpture garden with a relatively small indoor museum as well and a special exhibit space. The garden is known for housing “The Thinker” and many other greats. Traveling alone and not in nature where I can set up my own little tripod and get myself in any pictures I heard an english speaking couple and saw an opportunity in that they were taking pictures of each other. I went in with my usual trick of offering to take their picture if they would like one together. This is the best way when traveling alone because, almost without fail, the people say yes and then offer to take your picture if you’d like. But this attempt was a fail, they gladly accepted my offer yet made no indication of being willing to reciprocate. Selfish jerks. I quickly got over it though as I had been all in and excited for the gardens until I realized that these statues were all bronze casts of models and not original works. Say what?! I’m sorry, a reproduction just doesn’t excite me.

Thankfully, the actual museum proved to be way more interesting. Rodin’s talents transcended different mediums and it was fascinating to see unfinished pieces and his use of grids hidden beneath the layers of his works. His fascination and mastery of the human body combines the science and art into an appreciation like no other. His sculptures range from haunting (those eyes!) to rather lewd grotesque (the sculpture equivalent of classic playboy spreads?). I don’t like feet and even the display of his play on the exploration of feet drew my attention.

Without a doubt, however, the most captivating experience at Musee Rodin was the special exhibit playing with the relationship between Rodin and Picasso. For the first time ever, Musee Rodin and Musee Picasso joined forces to present the special exhibit, which provided an eye-opening clarity on the extent of the influence Rodin had on Picasso. Both were fascinated with the human body, specifically the female body and their works often culminated in “unorthodox depictions of ecstasy.” Pieces by the respective artists were presented side-by-side, clearly displaying how Picasso used the works of Rodin as inspiration and, well, basically copied them in his own style. I’m pretty sure I literally gaped my mouth open beneath my mask at many of the pairs because it was so obvious and clear. Classic plagiarism with a twist! In a weird way it also oddly humanized the artists to me by providing such an experience into their relationship. Hands down, the best museum exhibit I’ve seen in Paris thus far.

To top it off, I even found my favorite Picasso piece hidden amongst the fascinating experience. Who knew that he had an eye for mixed media and his “Composition au papillon” is the kind of piece I would love to have in my own home.

Leaving Musee Rodin I considered another museum but I think I’m getting to a point of being museum’d out, at least for now. And leaving art for the day on a high note of the Rodin-Picasso exploration felt right. So instead it was off to find La Grande Epicerie. I had sent my AirBnB host a message asking where he had found a specialty salt he had in his pantry and that is where it had come from. I don’t buy much when I’m traveling but apparently I have a thing for salt (also the only “souvenir” I brought back from Iceland a few years ago). Finding La Grande Epicerie found me in another high-end trendy part of town, maybe it was Saint Germaine? I’m not exactly sure to be honest but what I found was not a little shop as I was expecting but a massive store that would make any foodie’s heart swoon. La Grande Epicerie is basically an amazing culinary market combined with a Williams Sonoma combined with a massive home goods store, all on steroids. It spanned three or four stories and I could barely blink it was such visual overload! But in a good way. They had an international section with “specialty” items from different countries and I literally laughed out loud and shook my head standing in front of the section de “Etats-Unis.” Apparently we are best known for our beef jerky, cheap chocolate, and marshmallows (face palm).

My bag of goodies was heavy so I opted to take the Metro back to my AirBnB to rest for a while. I had one Metro ticket left from the small pack I had purchased yesterday and the damn thing wouldn’t work. Do they expire after 24 hours or something? I don’t know but it wasn’t working. I recalled reading that you can get week-long Metro passes so I found the information kiosk and inquired. Each Metro ride is 1,90 euros and a week pass is 22 euros. While I definitely wasted money by not buying one right away it still made sense. The girl behind the counter and I conversed in a mixture of broken English and broken French and somehow additional charges kept getting presented but 27 euros later I had a pass in hand. Apparently I was also supposed to spend another 6 euros to go to the photo booth and have a passport-type picture taken to attach to my pass but I’m rolling the dice and skipping that part. My call to take the Metro instead of walking rang correct as my goodie bag handle broke as I walked down the Metro steps and I narrowly avoided spilling my haul all over. A quick ride later, as I exited the Metro station I finally saw a cheese shop for the first time. I had started to wonder where all these illustrious shops were hidden. My hands were too full to do anything about it then but I made not of where to find it again. Climbing the six flights of stairs to my AirBnB with my heavy bag of salts was as fun as you would imagine. And I’m getting really tired of having to fight with the lock every single time I get back into the apartment.

I actually took a couple hours to relax, laying around the apartment trying to cool off, getting to connect with Brandon at home, and writing. Have I mentioned how much I miss air conditioning?

A quick refresh and I was ready to head to dinner at the Michelin starred L’Atelier de Joel Robuchon. Please note that the website footer does clarify that dogs ARE allowed. This was one of the dinners I had planned in advance and was excited for. Thankfully they have counter seating so I was able to get a reservation for one! Though one of my goals for the day had been to try to get around using a bike or scooter I decided that a walking/metro combo would be safer. Located in the swank Saint Germaine neighborhood I stood in the blazing sun outside as they took in each reservation one at a time. They only do reservations for one seating a night at 6:30pm. Elsewise you just have to roll the dice to try to get in later IF a table or seats have cleared.

I went all in with the nine course chef’s Discovery Menu. Though I had really wanted to try the tartare and that was not included I figured I should get over it and this was the way to go. At the counter seating they left a seat open between each group which meant it was really nice to have elbow room on either side of me and not feel crowded. Can we keep COVID spacing everywhere forever please? From my seat I had a view into the kitchen so I could watch the dance of the chefs preparing the delicacies of the evening. Bear with me now, because this nine-course meal deserves a decent amount of attention.

I’m going to go all in here and say that straight up, the Amuse-Bouche was one of the most delicious things I have ever eaten in my entire life. As he sat the little cup of white foam in front of me the waiter explained that it was a melon gazpacho with a fresh mint foam. The first bite and I could not help myself but exclaim out loud how amazing it was. I have never in my life had a dish with the salt so perfectly balanced to highlight and accentuate the flavors. Everything about this amuse including the texture, temperature, balance, flavor, just everything was sheer perfection. And they made it look like a soft boiled egg!!! The melon gazpacho somehow had the texture of a six-minute yolk. Slowly and deliberately it oozed into the foam with each bite. I cannot rave enough this little mint melon wonder.

Another gazpacho was up next. This time, your classic tomato gazpacho but nothing was classic or usual about it. It was the best gazpacho (not including the melon above) I have ever had. The perfect level of acidity and balance of flavors was awe-inspiring. Following the gazpacho came the “le caviar oscietre” – caviar on a poached egg atop a cauliflower sauce. Holy yum. As I used my bread to soak up every last morsel of the sauce I thought back to years ago when I had a Board Member send another one an etiquette guide after a Board dinner – noticing he had wiped his sauce (and also tried to warm his butter with a candle but that’s another story). I thought of how poor my etiquette was in this sopping and I did not give a damn.

As I waited for the next course I was annoyed by the cigarette smoke leaking in from the patio, thankfully there was only one smoker out there but it was still unfortunate. I wish French restaurants would create non-smoking sections. Speaking of waiting, I was now an hour into this meal and only through the first three courses. Aside from getting a little bored between delicacies, throughout the meal I realized that it was actually quite nice having time to digest and reflect on each course before the next. Taking in the patrons around me and reflecting on my experience in Paris this far I was also able to reflect on my experiences that two things I had either heard or read about the Parisians had not yet rang true. First, I had read that Parisians dress for dinner, basically if you are an American the advice I read said to think of what you would wear for dinner and then put on something nicer. But for the most part everyone seemed rather casual, one man, an obvious local, was even wearing shorts and flip flops. Second, I’ve often heard how rude the French were but everyone I’ve encountered so far has been very nice, even with my lack of language ability.

Along with my disdain for smoking, I also have a disdain for what would be served next, the foie gras. I had to muster up the strength to step past my animal activist tenants to appreciate this dish. While I am not a fan in general, it was still tasty and delightful.

I had started chatting with the family next to me, a couple from Holland visiting with their four year-old daughter. The little girl wanted chocolate ice cream for dessert and what came out was five perfect miniature ice cream cones on little stands. It would be weird if I asked to take a picture of her food so you’ll just have to take my word that it was quite adorable.

Gracing my palate next was the gyoza. Two perfect little poultry dumplings served in a light and decadent ginger leek broth. As I again made sure no sauce was left behind I was watching the kitchen and the intricacies of the chefs bringing out fresh plants from which to snip herbs and greens to grace the dishes they were preparing. I was on my second glass of Sancerre by this point and had also gone through one large bottle of water already and appreciated their attention to switch to a small bottle of water for my second as the meal was progressing. That’s one thing that I have so far loved about the French dining experience, and believe is largely attributed to their lack of reliance on tips, so far nowhere have the staff tried to up-sell or push more water, wine, etc like is often the case at home.

The Black Cod was my least favorite course of the evening, while still good, it just didn’t do much for me. I prefer my fish with a fresher taste than the heavier caramelization on the little yuzu marinated hunk. But Quickly my taste buds again began to dance with excitement when my quail with truffle mashed potatoes with presented. Complete with a little ramekin of their “famous mashed potatoes” on the side because everyone always asks for more so they just provide it right off the bat now. Oh and the little salad of dill and parsley that accompanied the quail made for the most decadent and balanced bites.

The family from Holland had already left as their a la carte dinner was over quick and another couple was seated beside me as my quail arrived. The outgoing older Parisian man said hello and introduced himself and his beautiful younger wife. I thought I saw a sideways glance from her as he introduced her around to the waiter and also to a couple on their other side, a younger set of locals. I noted how the two men struck up conversation and spent a great deal of time talking with each other, both ignoring their lovely wives. Of course, this was probably better than the couple across the counter who I hadn’t seen speak to each other, or anyone else, all night. The manager came out and Parisian the elder jumped up, apparently this was a dear friend of his. I couldn’t help but look over startled at his excitement and he explained that this manger was “the man” and in charge of all of Joel Robuchon’s restaurants. As the manager came around the counter to chat with him I noticed the elder nudging his wife on the elbow, she ignored, and he nudged again. Finally he gave up on the subtlety and put his hand on her shoulder, guiding her around to introduce his manager friend to his “wife.” This all seemed off to me, they were quite the odd couple.

But they were nice. When their food arrived they even offered to let me taste their teeny portions since they were ordering different a la carte items. I declined because, well, that’s just weird; but it was nice. By the time I had finished my quail course it was already 8:50pm. I was almost two hours into this gastronomic delight. My first dessert, an almond sorbet with a cherry froth arrived. Alone, the cherry froth was quite tart and not too exciting, but mixed with the almond sorbet it was a perfect balance of sweet and tart. I wished I had something to scrape the last bits!

The second desert and final course arrived well after 9pm, “Le Chocolat Tentation.” A chocolate mouse with crunchy bits, an Oreo ball of goodness in the middle, and a hard shell dotted with delicate sauces on the top. The chocolate was not too sweet and the mix of textures was refinement at it’s best. I thought I had a great meal last night (and I did) but this blew it out of the water; hands down probably the best food I’ve ever had. As I sipped on a cup of their signature ginger lemon tea after my meal, the elder Parisian’s phone, sitting on the counter, started to ring, his “wife” nudged him hard, hard enough that I couldn’t help but look over, and I could see why. The name calling on the phone, “Ma Femme” – which translates to “My Wife” in French. I knew something was off but this was getting good now. He quickly covered his phone with his napkin and patted her shoulder smugly. I would have given anything to be able to understand French better and know what the loud whispers between them were! This gorgeous woman sure as hell wasn’t his wife and it all made so much more sense.

By the time I walked out of the restaurant it was about 9:45pm. I had no idea I was walking into a three hour dinner but, even sitting alone, it was worth every moment. I’m going to try to get another reservation for later this week to try some items off of the a la carte menu because I’m sure their tartare has got to be something special. If you are ever in Paris, eat here. Trust me, just do it.

One thing that I love about Paris (at least this time of year) is how late it stays light, even at 10pm it was barely dusk out and the sky still blue.