The Paris Blog: Paris, France Expat Tips & Resources

Cast-Iron Dining

Girls Guide to Paris — Sun, 14 Mar 2010 03:38:57 +0000

The concept of Les Cocottes de Christian Constant may be a bit of a gimmick, but the food is definitely not. Most everything on the menu is served in cast-iron cookware (“cocottes”) by Staub, which, along with wine glasses engraved with the restaurant’s logo and cookbooks by M. Constant, are displayed on the shelves behind the bar and are available for purchase. I had to wonder, walking into a restaurant full of merchandise, if the chef was also selling his soul.  The answer seems to be no. And even if he were, it would be hard to judge him. Constant has, after all, trained and inspired a generation of chefs, including Yves Camdeborde of Le Comptoir and Thierry Breton of Chez Michel.  Constant’s impeccable kitchen at Les Cocottes, in the hands of Philippe Cadeau, turns out thoughtful, unpretentious food in short order.  Though there’s not a greasy spoon to be found in this modern space of grass green and gray, the long counter and quick pace of the service are reminiscent of an American diner, as are the no-reservations policy and the friendliness of the serveuses with the lunchtime regulars.  It’s a little ironic, then, that the only major misstep I encountered here was “la vraie salade de César Ritz” (”Caesar salad” to you and me), an American invention. It was a gloppy mess of chopped lettuce—no whole romaine hearts here—coated with a thick, bland dressing that lacked any zip of garlic or lemon.

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135, rue St.-Dominique, 75007, Lunch and dinner Mon–Sat., no reservations

Lunch at Le Grand Vefour

God I Love Paris — Sun, 14 Mar 2010 03:19:54 +0000

Mon dieu. It is a masterpiece of an 18th Century interior. Plush red velvet banquets, gold gilt trim, full-wall mirrors, frescoes, silver vases of flowers, white linen tablecloths and napkins, skyrocketing fresh lilies. We were seated at a table that allowed us to peek at the decanting and the breathing of wine and the painstaking presentation and delivery of the plates. There was a team of at least eight waiters, ranging in age from 15 to 80, each of whom had his role in this very carefully greased wheel. When one would catch me lustfully eyeing someone else’s dessert he’d joke, “Not yet,” making me laugh. The sommelier was delightful. Our waiter was warm. The food and the wine, exquisite.

At a total of 125 euros, it’s obviously not an everyday event. It’s tres cher. But you have to think beyond just the total on the tab. You’re getting a classic experience. Neigh, an historic experience. It’s as indulgent and transporting as going to a spa. Sitting there in that sumptuous environment, knowing Napoleon wooed Josephine there, that Victor Hugo and Colette dined there, that it’s been in one of the most beautiful settings of Paris for over 200 years—and with the cast of waiters approaching your table, to bring you another treat, to pour a little more wine, to smile and make an aside—it makes you feel so special.

And you don’t have to eat for the rest of the day. We had the three-course menu, which is really four courses with the cheese…

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A Paris Expat Podcast

Misplaced Texan — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 15:53:19 +0000

Gui and I were recently invited to the top-secret, velvety-drape-lined K&K boudoir to be guests on the ever-popular podcast hosted by fellow Paris-based expats, Katia and Kyliemac. We’ve known these lovelies for some time now, having met them through the shrinking circle of expat friends that we’ve been lucky enough to have made here. They’re a rather dynamic duo who dish the dirt on life as anglophone transplants in Paris and offer tidbits and advice on how to survive the often bittersweet streets of this bipolar city.

I’ve always secretly wondered what it would be like to be a guest on their show – if costumes were the preferred dress code attire and if cocktails and pineau really did pour freely. Now I gladly know that the answers to my thoughtful queries are indeed, yes and YES.

Gui and I enjoyed bottomless Muffin Manmade rhum-rhums while recounting the tales of how we met, how we managed a long-distance relationship and how we eventually got to Paris. They refilled our glasses and we stayed to record a second episode where we talked about cultural differences in the workplace. It was loads of fun, and I even learned a bit about Gui that I never knew (like how much he missed the morning taco-truck at work).

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Get Comfortable

Why Travel to France — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 15:43:59 +0000

Ikea has moved into four Parisian subway stations for two weeks. Cute idea, but will they have to burn the furniture later? Oh, maybe they’ll go in the “as is” sale section! [via]

Glad Twinings

Deux Frontieres — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 15:15:42 +0000

In the latest issue of the French Marie Claire Maison, I came across some really beautiful work by Les Filles de Factuer, hanging curtains and screens made up of twined, colorful plastic. I went to look at their website this morning and discovered that it is in fact a French organization whose mission is to help people in need, particularly in developing countries and notably women and children, to help realize or develop certain skills or use of materials that could help them to earn an income and aid their social environment. Since 2008 this has been specifically to set up a link between France and Africa in a project called ‘recyclagesacplastique’ (recycled plastic bag), in which they focus on the material of plastic bags, to transform them into interesting objects for sale.

No Names, Please…We’re French

Girls Guide to Paris — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 15:51:17 +0000

“Hello,” I said with a bright smile. “I am M’s mom. She is so thrilled your daughter invited her to the birthday party. She’ll be very happy to join you. Oh, my name is Sylvia.” I rattled this off to the other mother in my nearly fluent French, my hand out, ready to shake.

“Oh, very well” was the rather dry response. The rejection hit me like a cold shower. Whatever had I done to offend this woman that she wouldn’t even tell me her name? Our daughters were seven, went to school together and spent most of their afternoons at the playground with each other. The mom had a full-time job, so our paths rarely crossed. I could not for the life of me figure out what I had done wrong.

Such was my introduction to French society. This mother was an extreme example of traditional French manners, so extreme that she eventually pulled her daughter out of public school because it was just a bit too much for her. But the story stuck with me and taught me a very valuable lesson about French culture. Names here are a valuable commodity and not easily shared.

Understanding this helped me feel less ostracized from the neighborhood. When I met other moms at the park, and other parents who joined our coffee circle every morning at the café, I no longer took it as a snub if we did not exchange names. Eliminating the “Hi, my name is Sylvia” introduction put them at ease and let them know I was one of them. Eventually I’d learn their names. Or not.

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American Library Starts a Blog

Laurie — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 04:37:13 +0000

Good news! The American Library in Paris, an expat membership institution, has just launched Browser, a blog covering expat subjects and literary news and events (and not just ones at the Library itself). An inaugural post announces an event worth planning for:

Since the mid-1990s the Library has been fortunate to host the talented and inventive San Francisco performing arts company Word for Word for annual productions of American short stories. The stories are performed exactly as written — that is, the actors speak not just dialogue but the narrative in its entirety. Watching these performances is an exercise in the unexpected on one level; on the next, it puts a writer’s style and tone into an entirely new context. The experienced is heightened, in my experience, by reading the story beforehand so that you can concentrate on its interpretation.

This year, on Thursday 15 April, Word for Word brings us a 1951 Tennessee Williams story, “Two on a Party.” Williams is best known for his plays — “A Streetcar Named Desire,” “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,” “Night of the Iguana,” “The Glass Menagerie” — and wrote few stories, but these too reflect his staging and pacing skills. “Two on a Party” is about two lonely drifters, hookers we might call them today, who strike up a strange bond that transcends their different sexualities and their separate longings. As Williams writes in the closing section, it’s about “a female lush and a fairy who travel together, who are two on a party… Two queens sleeping together with sometimes a stranger between them…”

Anyone queer or queer-friendly knows the importance of this seminal (pun intended!) short story. It’s sure to be an exciting evening. If you can’t make it, bookmark Browser for alerts to other cool events.

Is Paris Hardening My Heart?

Misplaced Texan — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 21:08:36 +0000

The other day, a busy and rainy Sunday afternoon, as Gui and I were leaving McDonald’s to get on with the day, a young boy stopped me and asked me if I had a euro. We were still inside the McDonald’s when the boy approached me, and I had to ask him to repeat himself because I wasn’t really sure what he said the first time. When I understood that he was asking me for a euro, I told him, “no,” continued walking out of the restaurant and then proceeded to feel like the scum of the earth.

Being asked for money from strangers has just become part of my daily life as a Parisian city-dweller. I come across homeless people on a regular basis, and I’ve managed to grow a thick skin of indifference, knowing that my usually overly-emotional self is just not suited for denying a beggar some change. But, it wasn’t until I firmly and quickly rejected this child’s bid for a bite to eat that I realized how cold and callous I’d actually become. I walked by the McDonald’s again a few minutes later and saw the boy sitting at a booth eating a burger. I wanted to cry.

A friend of mine makes it a point to give food and not money to beggars he encounters on the streets and in the tunnels of Paris, and I generally agree with that approach. But, rarely do I find myself with an extra piece of fruit or bag of chips in my handbag, and sometimes it’s just not all that practical for me. And, I realize the trouble with handing out cash to people when they ask for it; that there’s an organized ring of criminals who make people beg and take their money, but how am I supposed to pick and choose who I help and who I don’t help?

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Not Dead Yet: Paris Nightlife

Secrets of Paris — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 21:00:03 +0000

Back in late 2009 my editors at Paris Magazine contacted me about writing an article on the Paris nightlife scene. My assignment? To write a sort of rebuttal to the flurry of articles that had recently appeared in the French and American press declaring that Paris was dead after dark. So I spent the first six weeks of 2010 getting reacquainted with some of my favorite old haunts and checking out a handful of new ones, trying to readjust to a nocturnal schedule and stay warm despite the particularly harsh winter temperatures (and the typical female party attire of not enough fabric).

Yes, bars and clubs have taken a hit due to loud smokers on the sidewalks at all hours and an increasingly intolerant residential population, but there’s still much to do after dark if you know where to look. You can read my article in the March/April 2010 edition of Paris Magazine, available in English bookstores and major newsstands (or read it on their website).

For those of you who don’t get out much, here’s a brief rundown of some of the latest changes and noteworthy additions to the Paris nightlife scene:

Flèche d’Or has reopened after a long closure for renovations. Concerts aren’t free anymore (not that €8 including a drink is going to bankrupt anyone, even during la crise), but at least the bathrooms have been spiffed up. Pete Doherty and Gossip have had shows, and Juliette Lewis will be singing in May.
The Chacha Club was closed down by the authorities in January after the staff were caught dealing drugs (and none too discreetly, it seems), but the latest reports are that they will reopen the end of March.
Le Loco nightclub was purchased by the neighboring Moulin Rouge in November and reopened in February as La Machine du Moulin Rouge. For the moment it’s still a club hosting live bands (mostly rock and pop) and DJs, but rumor has it the cabaret will eventually incorporate it into their lounge, gift shop and museum.

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The Plastiscines: Modern Girl Group

Vingt Paris — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 20:52:12 +0000

Girl groups from the swinging 60’s were a dime a dozen. Record labels paired songwriters with producers, handpicked the voices, and stylists went to work creating a palatable package ready for eager consumers. Parisian starlets The Plastiscines may not have been assembled by executives, but their rise in popularity comes from modern mechanisms pioneered decades ago. A group of middle class teens who could double as models, the band was guaranteed attention from their first struggling chords. Nylon magazine launched a record label to release the debut album, grooming their flagship act for the media blitz to come. First France, then Europe and finally the States were invaded, The Plastiscines appearance on TV demographic hot-spot Gossip Girl as profound a victory as D-Day.

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The Plastiscines play at La Maroquinerie on March 16, 23 rue Boyer, Mº Méniolmontant/Gambetta, Tickets: 17 euros