Paris, France

Since we returned from our trip a few weeks ago, many friends have kindly asked what we did in Paris. We have answers: we ate great food, went to museums,  saw lots of churches, strolled along the Seine.  These things are all true. But, the real beauty of the trip can be explained in our daily routine: wake up (late, because a 9-hour time difference is no joke), eat something delicious for breakfast, walk around, see some art or old buildings, eat something delicious for lunch, walk around,  stop for a glass of wine, walk around some more, take a short nap back at the apartment, go out for an apertif, eat something delicious for dinner, find a place to drink a last glass of wine outside and people watch until midnight or so.  This may seem repetitive, but no two days were alike and every day was perfect.

Here are some things we did and saw.

Admired the many enormous blue doors.

Ate tiny French donuts.

 Went to the Musee d'Orsay.

Ate salty shrimps with creamy mayonnaise.

Admired this brilliant contraption: bread slicer designed like a paper cutter.

Marveled at the tiny gas stations.

Drank coffee.

Pondered life at the Rodin Museum.

Had glasses of wine here.

 And here.

And here, a wine bar and bookstore.

We ate apple turnovers alone the Seine.

And perused the local farmers markets, which were full of beautiful produce, as well as stands selling the usual charcuterie and crepes, but also Moroccan and African food.

We ate here (burrata with mozzarella, prosciutto, olive oil, and crumbled hazelnuts; monkfish with spinach; dourade with tomato risotto).

And here (crab and potato cake; tartare of oysters, salmon, and shrimp; sea bream with pesto and vegetable fritters).

And here...

Where I had haddock vitrine with sweet pepper puree...

And roast chicken with potatoes Dauphine.

We rode the Batobus.

And admired the skyline.

Shopped for books and art along the river.

 And ate cured meats and cheeses at every opportunity.

We saw French dogs and pined for ours.

Sighed over the Hotel de Ville at night.

Looked at art.

 Looked at people looking at art.

Ate American cheeseburgers.

Wondered what this was and contemplated stealing it for a joy ride.

 Stumbled across this guy.

 And practiced looking French.

In addition to the food described above, we had lovely meals at past favorites Fish and Le Comptoir du Relais. But some of our favorite experiences were at new, very casual spots: a tartine of creamy cheese, smoked duck, and walnuts (which were in season and therefore everywhere) at La Tartine; chicken tagine with dried apricots and polenta at Glou; ham and butter sandwiches from one of the many local bakeries. At Les Temps des Cerises, they won my heart from the moment we sat down and they placed before us a plate of perfect French radishes with a tiny wooden bowl of sea salt.

Some of the best food we had was at Frenchie, where we not only enjoyed foie gras with figs, guinea hen with eggplant, squid ink, and olives, and trout with kale and spaghetti squash, but the company of Camille and her husband, Nick. Camille is the pastry chef for Frenchie To Go, which was pretty lucky for us because we were able to ride her coattails and get star treatment that night, including complimentary champagne and the most outrageous last course I have ever had, a small sort of shepherd's pie. I don't often think of eating oxtail stew topped with bechamel (or mashed potatoes, as the husband claims--either way it was deliciously creamy) at the end of a meal, but I can no longer think of a reason why not.

After a second trip to Paris, I am 100% convinced it is the best place on earth. It's not perfect, but it's beautiful, interesting, (mostly) progressive, easy to navigate, and seems to be populated by people who understand that living well is less related to how much you work or earn and more about how much you stop, sit, and look around, preferably while drinking a glass of wine and eating charcuterie.

The Hungry Dog returns

Well, sort of.

I've been missing you guys, and though I wouldn't presume that you have been missing me, or wondering what I've been up to, I thought I might dip a toe back in the blog water. All of a sudden, summer is over, Halloween candy is in stores, and Thanksgiving plans are being made. Guess I missed a whole season.

I've been doing things, though. Like for one thing, I started taking a painting class. I've been enjoying it, in spite of being very poor at it. I think I've discovered one of the cool things about getting older: I don't mind if I'm not good at something. I used to feel bad if I wasn't good at something I attempted, but I don't feel that way about painting, even though I carry the baggage of being the daughter of a painter. It is enough that trying to paint gives me the sensation I was craving--the feeling of pushing everything else out of my mind, which is otherwise crazy 24-7.

This made me realize that it was OK if I was terrible at it, as long as I found it fun. Fortunately, I'm good at other stuff, things that I also enjoy, as well as some things that make money. You don't have to excel in every department.

In addition to my art class, we've done some other groovy things this summer, such as attending the Giants' Dog Days game.

Soph enjoyed that, not only because it was a good old fashioned fun day, but because it gave her a break from a certain ankle biter named Emma we've been spending time with. Emma is our friends' new puppy. She is stupid-cute and completely obsessed with Soph. "Ankle biter" is literal in this case.

Poor Soph, I don't think she misses having puppies!

There's been plenty of food stuff, too. For example, we've been digging this place and have spent way too much on casual but decadent lunches there in the last few weeks. I mean, wine on tap...? How can I not love it?  But, we've also had some thrifty backyard picnics.

In case you're missing a caption, that's a tomato and arugula salad; leftover fried chicken from Wayfare Tavern (eaten cold, natch!); Hawaiian mac salad in the tupperware; and a good basic chianti.

And, I've been making crostatas, like I always do. This one was with nectarines.

 And this fig and almond cake.

 And today, I got some kiwi berries in our CSA box. Here they are in a tiny colander!

They are the size of kumquats and taste like a hybrid of kiwis and blueberries. I can't decide what to do with them.

We also bought a grill, which has revolutionized my cooking. For one thing: fewer dishes! For another: the husband mans the grill! We've been grilling maniacs: grilled chicken, grilled steak, grilled pork tenderloin, grilled vegetables. But I don't have any photographic evidence. You'll have to trust me.

And finally, we are on the verge of our Paris trip. PARIS! Man, I love that place. And, I'm in desperate need of a vacation. Who isn't, I guess. But being self-employed makes me want a vacation in a different way than I used to. While I don't have a routine or a grind to get away from, I am also never fully detached from my work, unless I am out of the country. So, with it being one year since we went to Italy, I'm bouncing off the walls a bit.

I regret to say that my French remains as awful as it was the last time we went in 2011, despite my braggy claims right after that trip that I would be conversational by the time we returned. C'est dommage, non? Two and half years go quickly when you're sitting around doing nothing.

So, have a lovely few weeks, my friends. Be good.

Time out

 

Trying to decide the future of this blog and I think it requires a little break.  My interest in blogging has changed (and ebbed and flowed) a good deal since I started The Hungry Dog in 2009 and I'm not sure this is where my creative interests lie anymore. Maybe I just need some time out and I will return, refreshed and inspired. In any case, thanks for reading all this time. Those of you who have read -- and especially those of you who have commented--have made this blog a lot of fun, and, at times, very rewarding. Happy summers to you all! I'll see you when I see you.