Over the next few days, I’ll share some pieces that my husband, Dave Wolf (aka Mr. Sportcoat) wrote during one of our rare extended stays in Paris one early summer. While we spend stretches of time in France nearly every year, we rarely stay long in Paris at all; so when we did, everything seemed so fresh and new to us. I hope these little vignettes and pensées bring the spark of La Belle France to your being during the short days of early and mid-winter.
Lunch on the Rue de la Roquette
Late June, Thursday afternoon, Paris. One last leisurely lunch at one of the myriad small restaurants in this city. Tomorrow at this time we should be headed for home, airborne somewhere over the North Atlantic. But now we’re enjoying our petit cremes at this little spot just off the Place Leon Blum on the Rue de la Roquette. It is all very pleasant, as Hemingway would say.
Lunch began with a couple of kirs. Then for Wini, a “Salade Jardiniere”—a mix of mache and mesclun greens, thin slices of apple topped with a warm chevre and sliced almonds. For me, a simple “Pizza Regina”—ham, fresh mushrooms, fromage, oregano. For dessert we shared three small scoops (trois boules) of ice cream—chocolate, vanilla, coffee—with chantilly of course.
We linger in the company of office workers, students, two elderly women talking over coffee. Just another Thursday afternoon in Paris.
America is one big eating disorder.
More Paris Bits: