Sunday, December 14, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Holiday Treats (UPDATED)
Buches de Noel -- "Yule Logs," rolled-up cakes filled with cream and elaborately decorated -- are a big thing here. Le Bon Marche, one of the best food stores in France, had a nice selection today:
I've even seen "buchettes" -- single-serving versions. Haven't tried one yet but probably will soon.
UPDATED TO ADD:
A couple hours after I wrote this, I did go out -- in the cold rain, all in the service of you, my dear readers -- to get a "buchette." It is a miniature Yule Log in every way (by contrast, the full-size ones are about 10 inches long and 3 in diameter):
Inside this cake, which is only about an inch tall, are three miniature cake layers:
And that green thing on the top, behind the mini-macaroon, is a little plastic model of a two-handled lumberjack saw.
It's an exquisite piece of art, French food at its finest. Yours for just 3.50 euros ($4.30).
I've even seen "buchettes" -- single-serving versions. Haven't tried one yet but probably will soon.
UPDATED TO ADD:
A couple hours after I wrote this, I did go out -- in the cold rain, all in the service of you, my dear readers
Inside this cake, which is only about an inch tall, are three miniature cake layers:
And that green thing on the top, behind the mini-macaroon, is a little plastic model of a two-handled lumberjack saw.
It's an exquisite piece of art, French food at its finest. Yours for just 3.50 euros ($4.30).
Friday, December 12, 2008
Thumbs Up?
If you enter a restaurant in France by yourself, the maitre d' will often flash you a thumbs-up. It doesn't necessarily mean he's happy to see you.
French people who count on their fingers start with the thumb, so he's merely indicating that you want a table for one. Two would be the thumb and forefinger; three would be the thumb, forefinger and middle finger; etc.
It could be worse, though; elsewhere in the world, such a gesture with the thumb is equivalent to the American gesture with the middle finger ...
French people who count on their fingers start with the thumb, so he's merely indicating that you want a table for one. Two would be the thumb and forefinger; three would be the thumb, forefinger and middle finger; etc.
It could be worse, though; elsewhere in the world, such a gesture with the thumb is equivalent to the American gesture with the middle finger ...
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Why I love the French
Regular readers of this blog may remember the public service announcement I saw on World AIDS Day showing a straight couple using condoms until they got an HIV test.
Today I saw the same announcement, but this time depicting a gay couple. In bed using condoms.
On Eurosport, the local equivalent to ESPN.
Can you imagine that in the United States?
Today I saw the same announcement, but this time depicting a gay couple. In bed using condoms.
On Eurosport, the local equivalent to ESPN.
Can you imagine that in the United States?
Why I hate the French
The Metro has gotten better in the last couple of days, but the French work ethic showed itself anew at the gym today.
All of the elliptical machines were out -- obviously a plug had fallen out, or a fuse had blown, or something simple like that. But of course none of the three employees present thought it was their job to fix it. The best response was from the manager, a lady in her 50s. Now, this gym has a small reception area at street level but the bulk of the facility is downstairs, on two levels in the basement. But its manager is apparently unable to descend the stairs.
(By the way, and contrary to the myth in the United States, it's not impossible to fire French workers. It's just very expensive. Even if you fire them for cause, you owe them severance pay, which can amount to something like 15 months' salary.)
All of the elliptical machines were out -- obviously a plug had fallen out, or a fuse had blown, or something simple like that. But of course none of the three employees present thought it was their job to fix it. The best response was from the manager, a lady in her 50s. Now, this gym has a small reception area at street level but the bulk of the facility is downstairs, on two levels in the basement. But its manager is apparently unable to descend the stairs.
(By the way, and contrary to the myth in the United States, it's not impossible to fire French workers. It's just very expensive. Even if you fire them for cause, you owe them severance pay, which can amount to something like 15 months' salary.)
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
The Chalkboard Test
William Least Heat Moon's book about rural America, "Blue Highways," posited the "calendar test" for roadside cafes. The number of calendars hanging on the wall was supposed to be directly related to the quality of the food. A five-calendar cafe was exquisite; a six-calendar cafe was the Holy Grail, in the sense that it had been searched for but never actually found.
In Paris bistros, there's the chalkboard test. It's not quite a guarantee, but your odds of getting good food increase if the menu's on a chalkboard rather than printed, like this:
Or this:
Cutesiness doesn't seem to matter; this one looks tacky, but is actually from a very good restaurant:
And the number of chalkboards doesn't make a difference, though some places do overdo it:
The point is simply that a bistro with chalkboard menus probably changes them frequently, depending on what's fresh and good in the market. (This rule applies only to bistros; fancier restaurants reprint their menu on paper each night with updates or specials.)
And if you're in a bistro that has both a paper menu and a chalkboard with specials on it, my advice is to always, always order the special. While specials elsewhere can be dodgy -- sometimes they seem like a way to use up about-to-expire food -- here they're almost always the dishes that a kitchen has put the most thought and effort into.
In Paris bistros, there's the chalkboard test. It's not quite a guarantee, but your odds of getting good food increase if the menu's on a chalkboard rather than printed, like this:
Or this:
Cutesiness doesn't seem to matter; this one looks tacky, but is actually from a very good restaurant:
And the number of chalkboards doesn't make a difference, though some places do overdo it:
The point is simply that a bistro with chalkboard menus probably changes them frequently, depending on what's fresh and good in the market. (This rule applies only to bistros; fancier restaurants reprint their menu on paper each night with updates or specials.)
And if you're in a bistro that has both a paper menu and a chalkboard with specials on it, my advice is to always, always order the special. While specials elsewhere can be dodgy -- sometimes they seem like a way to use up about-to-expire food -- here they're almost always the dishes that a kitchen has put the most thought and effort into.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
The Joys of Commuting
If you were ever inclined to think of Europe as a mass-transit paradise, you wouldn't be after enduring my commute for the last week.
I take the Metro's 1 line, which is the most crowded line even at the best of times -- it's the only Metro line serving the huge office development at La Defense, on the western edge of Paris. It runs at capacity at rush hour, and unlike in New York there are no express tracks or alternate routes here. Each of the 14 Metro lines has exactly one set of tracks going in each direction, so if a train breaks down, every train behind it has to wait.
On average, I've been delayed 10-15 minutes each day, each way for about the last week -- and when the train is delayed, of course it only gets more crowded, as more people arrive in the station and try to pile on. If you're claustrophobic or need your personal space, the Metro at rush hour is not for you.
They make announcements when these things happen, sometimes, but as in New York the announcements aren't terribly informative. Probably the train driver doesn't know what's going on any more than we do.
The Parisians seem to take this all in stride, with much less overt complaining than you'd hear in New York. I guess they're used to it -- at least I haven't had to suffer any of the strikes that France is famous for, except for a couple days last month when I didn't get my newspaper at home because the deliverers were on strike.
I do note that the French have invented a new verb since I was here in '96: "patienter," which means "to be patient."
I take the Metro's 1 line, which is the most crowded line even at the best of times -- it's the only Metro line serving the huge office development at La Defense, on the western edge of Paris. It runs at capacity at rush hour, and unlike in New York there are no express tracks or alternate routes here. Each of the 14 Metro lines has exactly one set of tracks going in each direction, so if a train breaks down, every train behind it has to wait.
On average, I've been delayed 10-15 minutes each day, each way for about the last week -- and when the train is delayed, of course it only gets more crowded, as more people arrive in the station and try to pile on. If you're claustrophobic or need your personal space, the Metro at rush hour is not for you.
They make announcements when these things happen, sometimes, but as in New York the announcements aren't terribly informative. Probably the train driver doesn't know what's going on any more than we do.
The Parisians seem to take this all in stride, with much less overt complaining than you'd hear in New York. I guess they're used to it -- at least I haven't had to suffer any of the strikes that France is famous for, except for a couple days last month when I didn't get my newspaper at home because the deliverers were on strike.
I do note that the French have invented a new verb since I was here in '96: "patienter," which means "to be patient."
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