Le Sud

It's funny to hear the Parisians speak about le Sud (the south). There is an air of nostalgia, of longing,  their shoulders visibly relax as they remember running around barefoot as kids chez mamie et papi or drinking a Ricard with friends as ados. 

Everything is better in the south: the sun shines brighter, the food tastes better, the people are nicer. 

Then depression sets in: why the eff did I ever move to Paris?! I had it so good as a kid! 

And while I didn't live in the south of France as a kid, I did grow up in southern California, where I barely owned a pair of jeans and a jacket was just out of the question.  I was worried about being too hot. Can you imagine?

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Dancer friend is moving to Vietnam. I'm so excited for her, but it makes me sad to lose such a wonderful friend in Paris. Since she is essentially homeless until she moves to her new home across the world, she and her husband had the brilliant idea of renting a home in the south of France for a couple of weeks before their departure. Awesome right? Then, even more awesome, she invited me and another close friend to spend the weekend with them. Thankfully, I got over my commitment problems and got myself some train tickets stat. 

The minute we stepped off the train, we felt the heat of the sun, needed to put on our sunglasses and decided that sunscreen was in order. It was glorious.

After a quick stop in Aix-en-Provence to take in the Saturday marché (we got vintage plates and guacamole fixins!), we arrived at their little slice of heaven. 

Crisp rosé and bright-red tomato salads greeted us at the table, followed by BBQ chicken and fresh pain de campagne. Our feet were bare, our shorts were on and the air was exceptionally warm. It was divine. I kept asking myself why on earth I ever left Toulouse, why I ever left Cannes. What was I thinking?!

In-between pool time and playtime with their two little boys, we took a lazy walk into town and then a drive into one of the neighboring villages...

poppies!

quirky doors in the south

A beautiful place for a dip in the water when it gets too hot

In the evening, we cracked open a big bottle of red, prepared the veggies together and seared the steaks on the grill.  

In the morning, this awaited us on the terrace:

I had to remind myself, that life in the south is perfect because we were on vacation. But truthfully, I was dreading Monday, when we had to pack up and leave. I took a minute to lie on the grass and soak in the sun one last time (with sunscreen!). 

As the train pulled into the Gare de Lyon, my friend and I looked out the windows at the grey clouds and bundled Parisians. Even though I was sad to have left the slow-paced, sunny south, a wave of relief washed over me - home feels good. There is something about too slow that can depress me  - and Paris will always be in action, always buzzing. I love that.

That doesn't mean that I don't totally want a country home! But, Paris is still my homegirl.

Paris, je t'aime

What I will never stop loving about Paris is that the city surprises me when I least expect it.  Just when I'm feeling tired, wanting a big house with creature comforts and dependable customer service that may be fake, but at least exists in some way shape or form, Paris comes out, grabs me by the elbow and shakes me back into its wonderful reality.

And I fall back in love, all over again.

Random Ramblings

Last week, with encouragement from my Frenchie colleagues, I tried sardines. I have memories of a picnic with my mom in the backyard as a kid, and there were sardines involved, but that was circa 1987...

Visually, they are not the most appealing food, but the taste was actually good! These babies filled me up and then some! Plus, who can resist the vintage-looking tin they come in??

Copain and I went to see Le Tour du Monde en 80 Jours (Around the World in 80 Days) at Café de la Gare. While we were standing in line to get inside the theater, I looked up and saw a ballet class in the top windows of the building - they were going across the floor, doing jetés. It took me back to all of my ballet classes, tombé, pas de bourrée, glissade, jeté! It made me want to put on a leotard (that's saying a lot!) and join in... I miss dance.

Thankfully, the show helped me to get out of my Debbie Downer mood - it was HI-LARIOUS. I may have missed about 10% due to the quick-talking Frenchies, but still, funny stuff, good actors, cosy, funky theater vibe. Copain loved it and asked to see it again the following day :-)

You may not be able to see him in the picture, but I think I may have found the bird lady, errr, gentleman, from Mary Poppins! He likes to hang out over by the Pompidou and the birds pretty much flock to him. I'm sure this means that he has mass amounts of bread crumbs in his pockets, but still...

I had to stop and get a photo while simultaneously cringing. 

Poor Copain, I'm on a soup and salty cake kick that I just can't seem to get out of. Just the other day he said - salty cakes? Again?! Yeah, dude, again. 

I can't help it! The cold weather makes me want to bake and make hot soup! This one happens to be pumpkin, carrot, sweet potato and leek (with lots of emmental cheese and fresh rosemary on top!) The "salty cakes" are really just corn muffins with random things of my choosing mixed in - ham, cheese, olives, chestnuts - then I mix it up with the flours I use - corn, quinoa, regular, chestnut etc.  Throw some butter on top and you've got yourself a par-tay! (or just a cosy dinner in front of our favorite new American show, Homeland).

On one of our days off last week, Copain asked if we could walk to his favorite store in the whole, wide world - Truffaut. He got really excited at the prospect of buying this orchid (his favorite flower), until I reminded him that A. we already have two orchids, B. we live in a pigeon-hole, and C. 20 Euros could be spent on other things right now - like the holidays. It was like telling a kid he couldn't have the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle at the toy store - sadness came over Copain and I had to help him step slowly away from the orchid...

I saw this at Casa last weekend and immediately thought of my brother. I should probably buy it for his future children's bedrooms. Note: in our childhood home, my brother used to live in what we have now deemed "The Man Den". The Man Den includes deer heads, hunting photos and other taxidermy creations (fish, birds). Small children run, and when my little cousin spends the night at my parents house, she refuses to sleep in there. So do I, for that matter. My poor sister in law.

In less than a week I'll be home with my family for Thanksgiving! This will be the first Turkey Day on American soil in 8 years! EIGHT YEARS!!!! It's going to be fab - as long as I can get over the flight anxiety I'm already having (keep it together Air France!!). My mom's been keeping me in the loop weather-wise since I usually forget that Cali has only one season, and bring boots instead of Birks (last Christmas I had to borrow clothes!). Last week she sent me this photo: how the heck am I supposed to go from Parisian cold to 90°?? 

I recently ordered a bracelet from Etsy but it had been taking FOREVER to arrive. Finally, on Friday, I got a call from a gentleman, Monsieur Laurence, asking me if I had been waiting on a package - he had received it in the 14th district of Paris! The package had been addressed to the wrong zip code, and the post had sent it to a street with the same name in the 14th. What a nice guy! He left the package with the concierge at this office and I took a stroll on Friday to pick it up in the 8th. This was my walking scenery... 

The whole experience was a reminder that there are kind people out there and that I live in a pretty amazing city.  Paris, je t'aime.

Paris, je t'aime.

Mais oui, Fragonard, mais oui