Back from four weeks in France, on day 2.5 back in Austin, I am still haggard-looking and can barely fit into my last resort, back-up fat jeans. Thinking back on how crazy it seems now to have worked from France for 4 weeks, some of my best memories are random conversations with people when I was dining solo, and the best conversations were with les francais, not Americans.
I checked out Aux Deux Amis over in the 11th, where all the neat new places seem to be these days. Aux Deux Amis has been on my mind, particularly because of my exploration of the natural wine scene in France. I walked in early enough to get a seat and settled in at the bar. This piece by Amy Thomas at the HiP Paris Blog depicts said bar.
I got my order in, ordering in such a way that allowed me to try a white and a red wine out of the natural wine selections. "Vin nature" seems to be all the rage just now. I was delighted the manager dude picked out which red and which white. The thing with natural wines is that they are outside the AOC/AOP regime. That means that the producers are forbidden from placing anything remotely resembling a reference to a region. Makes it difficult to know what to order: can't say with these wines "I'd like a Brouilly" ... or a Chinon, or a Bordeaux. More on this in an upcoming article.
I struck up a conversation with the young American guy who took the seat open next to me at the bar.
I asked him what brought him to Paris (en anglais), a benign conversation-starter.
He: Oh, I've been coming to Paris for like 14 years now.
[Me, to self: ok, well I've been coming here for like 32 years now so, whatever.]
He inquired where I was from, as he could not discern any regional US accent. I said Texas. That telltale accent goes away apparently when speaking French for a time.
Me: This place has been on my list for some time. I noticed it's also on the top 100 list of bars in Paris.
He: Oh, no. It's top 10. I've been coming here ever since it opened. Some friends brought me here when it first opened.
Realizing he thought himself too cool about all things cool about Paris, I returned to my meal and studying the names of the Seine's quais and bridges. As part of his sharing his coolness with me though, he recommended I check out Le Baratin, which he was right on, based on Le Fooding's drooling over how great it is, per this review.
One day a lunch reservation falls through. I figure this is a sign to check out Frenchie to Go. The raving about Frenchie goes on and on. And true, I love the wine bar. But it's almost Frenchie fatigue. I head out to the tiny rue du Nil off of rue Aboukir. Just to see what the fuss is all about for this addition to the Frenchie empire.
I had to eat crow. Frenchie to Go is fresh, superbly prepared food, in a simple and laidback venue. I ordered fish and chips. And a glass of red natural wine. The drill is you just go and sit down after ordering. There is a table off to the side with a large pitcher of water and glasses for you to help yourself. You do not get a number or anything. Somehow the someone who brings the food out knows how to find you.
I installed myself at one of the small community tables/counters in the doorways. I like the picture this writer includes on his write-up. As I sit down, the two French guys on the other side of this counter are in the middle of exclaiming to a third friend, who had just walked up, how great the food is: especially the Reuben.(Wendy Lyn at The Paris Kitchen has a spectacular picture of it here.)
My fish and chips arrives. I stared at it a while. I could not believe how fantastic it looked. They point out my fish and chips to their friend as yet another example of how stupendous the food is.
As happiness descends as I break into the crispy fish and steam flies out, and I start dipping the hot steaming crispy white fish into the rustic tartar sauce-esque sauce and the smashed peas, I can't help but interject myself into their conversation.
"Excuse me, if you don't mind my bothering you to ask ... you're French, and you love this food, what is it about the food that you like so much?"
This conversation-starter was more successful than the one at Aux Deux Amis. We ended up talking for at least an hour. About French politics, the French health care system and home care benefits, attitude differences between the French and Americans, great public spaces in Paris, their travels in the US, my travels in France, my favorite places in Paris, their favorite places in Paris - and new recommendations for me of hip new hotels, public spaces, etc. I ordered desserts for us to share so I could taste a little bit of all of them: the chocolate doughnut, the rhubarb beignet, and the brownie. (We liked the whole hazelnuts in the brownie; I liked the intense chocolate in it, but we left it alone otherwise: too dry. Preferred the rhubarb beignet, but I was not blown away by any of the ones we tried.)
I mentioned how exhausting Paris is contrasted against the heartbreaking gorgeousness of it.
They agreed: Paris is exhausting. You have to get away from it every now and then - to breathe more deeply - and then come back to appreciate it. And once you can't see the beauty anymore in Paris, it's time to leave.
For them, growing up and living their adult lives in Paris, the attachment is seeing their personal histories as played out in various corners of Paris. Could not agree more.
It was not so hard to leave Paris this time, trip no. 19 (that return to Paris after Nantes and Angers counts as a separate trip). I just consider this a little time away to breathe.
Signage at Candelaria the last Sunday in Paris, over killer Sunday brunch "cocktail" that included absinthe AND mezcal
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