Let's make duck! My lesson at La Cuisine Paris

My second date with Sir Lancelot was planned for an early September night that turned out to be a horrible rainy day. Knowing that any plans to be outside were foiled, I received a text message from him that morning inviting me over for a "euro-trash" dinner cooked by Sir Lancelot himself. "Oh, a man who cooks!" I thought.

His menu of choice was lamb chops (he had no idea that my exposure to meat was pretty limited) and gratin dauphinois. At this point my knowledge of the French language was zilch and I spoke French words by pronouncing every single letter and with a slight Pittsburgh-ese accent. Clearly I could not say "gratin dauphinois" so I resorted to "cheesy potatoes." While Sir L does cook, he clearly had not made cheesy potatoes in America yet because he was about to dump an entire container of sour cream into the pot instead of whole cream as he did not realize the difference...

The meal turned out well as did our relationship (clearly)...

So when I decided to take a cooking class during one of my Lady of Leisure afternoons, I was quite excited when I saw gratin dauphinois on the menu.

The popular English-French cooking school, La Cuisine Paris has received a lot of buzz. Prominent Paris bloggers have taken and written about their classes and after reading positive reviews of their experiences, this seemed to be the perfect place for my first French cooking class. Situated on the right-bank, along the Seine right near Hotel de Ville, La Cuisine Paris is a lovely space where you feel quite Parisian while there.

I know this is going to offend 99% of Paris expats but I was not going to learn how to make sweets. As the other 1%, I'm not a huge of the dessert category. Sorry, but I'm tired of reading about macarons. I'm tired of looking at photos of them, photos of people baking and eating them. I know they're difficult to make (I would never be able to), but I'm just exhausted over the entire category. I digress...

I learned how to make a proper French lunch instead. 

While I was the only "local" (hah!) that attended the class, I met some very nice folks from Seattle, Toronto and Tokyo. 

The class which ran from Noon - 2pm and priced at 65 euros, included instruction, hands-on cooking as well as enjoying our lunch with wine.

The man who led the class was really knowledgable and spoke great English. He's a chef at a restaurant in Paris which added to the authenticity of the experience. 

Along with gratin dauphinois we also learned how to cook magret de canard with sauce a l'orange and the famous French dessert tarte tatin. (I do enjoy this dessert much more than macarons!)

Here were a few of my favorite tips I learned throughout the class:

• For the duck, cut the cooked meat against the fibers so it is not tough to eat
• After cooking the meat for five minutes on each side, let the meat "rest" for 10 minutes and then cook again for 2-3 minutes on each side. This enables the meat to not be as firm/tough when eating
• Cut out the root/stem in winter garlic; it is not good for digestion
• And of course because it's a French lunch: Do Not Be Afraid To Use Butter!

You can tell I'm ready for summer because the amount
of blush on my cheeks is a bit out of control. 

Overall my experience at La Cuisine Paris was great and I had a lot of fun! Jane, the owner is such a sweet woman and came up to chat with us at the end of our lunch and talked about various kitchen stores we should check-out in the area.

I highly recommend this place if you're visiting Paris and want to play Julia Child for the afternoon (in English!)

So now it's my turn to make gratin dauphinois for Sir Lancelot and since I can't find sour cream in Paris, there for sure will not be any mix-ups. Long live cheesy potatoes!

If you want to take a cooking class in Paris: 

La Cuisine Paris 
80 Quai de l'Hotel de Ville
75004

Save Me The Waltz

Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald 

My interest in Zelda Fitzgerald began last spring after reading The Paris Wife and then Bobbed Hair and Bathtub Gin: Writers Running Wild in the Twenties, where Zelda was one of the featured writers. I still have more to read about her but I do know she was more than just Fitzgerald's boozy wife (we can thank Woody Allen for that portrayal), but was an artist in her own right with various published writings, paintings and also a talent for ballet dancing. At the age of 27 Zelda started dancing again with the ambition of joining a ballet company. Her only published novel, Save Me The Waltz was written after she finally gave up her dream of joining a company and is currently on my nightstand.

While I hadn't danced for years, it was something I wanted to incorporate into my adult life. With the stressful hours of working in advertising, heading to class after a long day just never seemed appealing. I did try once on a weekend last summer in New York, but the instructor got stuck in the mayhem of the Gay Pride Parade - so I ended up going to drink beer at The Spotted Pig with my best friend and partake in the mayhem.

Therefore, just like Zelda, I decided to make 27 the year of returning to dance. Clearly I have no desire to do anything more than take class but finally finally finally I got myself out the door to an adult, beginner ballet class at Centre de Danse du Marais. And it was fantastic. I did try once last summer in New York but the teacher got stuck in traffic from the Gay Pride parade.

It's by far one of the best things I've done in Paris and it may not be particularly Parisian but it is French (Louis XIV founded the Paris Opera Ballet). And who knew... I had learned a bit of French as a kid! Assemblé, dégagé, battement, développé, plié, demi and grand plié, échappé and more!

Paris Opera Ballet dancers looking out to Paris. 

Paris Opera Ballet dancers at the barre.

It felt wonderful to dance and express myself through movement. While parts of my body have settled a bit in ten years (the bums of teenagers are not the same as bums of adult women of all ages!), it was 90 minutes to focus on alignment, structure and grace. The teacher was very sweet and for the first time in six months I did not feel like a total failure and was able to excel in something - even if it was only a beginner class.

I've spent the past days prancing around the apartment showing Sir Lancelot the routine we learned. Aside from the fact that I'm extremely sore from moving my muscles that have not been moved in ages, I am so excited to head back for more classes.

If you want to read more about Zelda: (these are just a few!)

The Paris Wife, Paula McClain
Bobbed Hair and Bathtub Gin: Writers Running Wild in the Twenties, Marion Meade
The Beautiful and Damned, Scott Fitzgerald
Save Me The Waltz, Zelda Fitzgerald

If you want to take a dance class in Paris: 

Centre de Danse du Marais
41 Rue du Temple
75004

Photo credits: http://bit.ly/zFrVyq, Alfred Eisenstaedt, Harvey Edwards

Monoprix bubble baths

When I look back at the winter of 2012, I will remember most likely one thing: I took a hell of a lot of bubble baths. Because when you're a Lady of Leisure (DL for short), you can do things like this!

It was nasty cold for a good two weeks and while that's nothing compared to the blustery winds of New York or the frigid, midwestern freeze of Pittsburgh, it was enough to make me want to stay inside.

And the best thing to do if you're staying in? Why bubble baths with a good book of course!

I remember about three years ago, one of my girlfriends was in between projects at work and took advantage of the downtime. It also being winter, she would send us photos of herself post- Central Park reservoir walk with the text, "Just finished my morning walk in the park - now off to take a bubble bath!" We were all so so jealous.

Now it was my turn. As she was knee-deep in some sort of financial report and six hours behind finishing her morning coffee, I sent a photo message with a peek of my toes and bubbles, "Enjoying my daily bubble bath after a long walk by the Seine!"

Had I really just taken a walk by the Seine? No. I'd fought my way through crowds of pushy and rude French people at 8:30am in the morning, sat through three hours of my "adored" French class and because it was so freaking cold, hightailed it back for my bubble bath.

To keep my bubble baths interesting, I went all out and bought a variety of bath gels from Monoprix. I've talked about Monprix before but for those back home, it's sort of like Target. Owned by the Galleries Lafayette people, they have adorable baby clothes (you should see the faux fur vest I spotted in December - to die for!), a large selection of home ware, etc. but then the food floor smells like a bad Food Emporium. It has a pretty decent selection of packaged goods but I leave the produce to our marché. What Monoprix has really excelled at is their store-brand.

Advertising packaged-goods for almost three years, I became highly aware of store-brands and packaging. In this department, I think Monoprix has hit a home run. It's made headlines on various design blogs and apparently even won a Cannes Lions in 2011 for design. Who would've thought?!

I feel like each time I go back to stock up, I discover new scents. There's grapefruit (for when I want a pick-me-up bath), Lavender (right before bed), Honey (for a dreamy, hammam feel), Coconut (when you want to be transported to the beach), apple, seaside, cotton, grape/cucumber, and more!

Plus the packaging has a cute line of copy for each product - for example this apple body wash says, "Pour chanter Pom...Pom...Pom... sous la douche!" When you want to sing Pom Pom Pom in the shower - or something like that... (Lancelot translated in between episodes of Downton Abbey and was not too pleased with my bubble bath translation interruption).

To be honest, until I read about this cute copy line feature on a blog, I had no idea it existed. Trust me, when I'm in the basement of Monoprix gathering groceries, I'm more concerned about dodging the crazy French women running into you left and right. There is no respect for your basket - at all. Plus, I'm still working out the words for everything we need. The last thing I'm thinking about is a little line of copy to make me chuckle about apple body wash.

For those that live in France and have Monprix as part of their lives - do you have any favorite store-brand products??

Here is a link to a design blog that has great imagery of the other store-brand products available: 
http://plentyofcolour.com/2011/03/23/monoprix-packaging/

A winter day in Versailles

Recently Sir Lancelot and I went to Versailles. I had never been there before and while the middle of winter may not be the most ideal time to visit the grand palace, we found such peacefulness from our visit.

The weather was typical of a Paris winter. Cold, grey and damp with a mist that was not too heavy or too light and never lifted from eyesight. It was the perfect setting for a wintry visit.

While the gardens were not in full bloom or in early bloom with the promise of soon-to-be flowers, there was still such beauty in the pristine and perfectly aligned landscape. I kept waiting for the Queen of Hearts to jump out behind a pine tree.

The crowds in the palace were still packed and we still had to wait in line to actually get into the palace for about 30 minutes - which I'm sure is nothing compared to the spring or summer.

The main point is if you are in the Paris area this time of year, do not rule Versailles out of your itinerary because it will not disappoint. Plus, when you get too cold there is an Angelina's inside the palace so you can take a break, warm up and enjoy their famous chocolat chaud.

La Saint-Valentin

Happy late Valentine's Day! We kept it low-key here in Paris for the day of love.

I like Valentine's Day. In kindergarten we'd give valentines to each person in our class and I would always hope that there would be something from the boy I had a crush on. In third grade I got a cut-out school photo with jagged edges. Clearly he couldn't use scissors. I also hosted a Valentine's Day party and followed the party instructions to a tee out of American Girl Mag. I remember there being a lot of Red Hots and people bringing their dolls. That was when there was only Felicity, Kirsten, Samantha and Molly! I had Samantha.

In seventh grade, the guy I was "going with," or whatever the term was then gave me roses and a love note that actually had the word "love" in it. I broke up with him later that afternoon because the love note scared me.

In ninth grade, I was coming off a really bad hair year, a really bad skin year and was still waiting for boobs (still am) so there weren't too many boys waiting in the sidelines. My friend and I decided to wear all black. My outfit consisted of a long, stretchy black skirt from Express accompanied with a black, puffy vest from Gap. All I needed was an American Eagle performance fleece but they never make clothes in black. Clearly I was still in a bad fashion year.

I bought Sir Lancelot a weird card that has scented paper. The shopkeeper at the card store was quite proud of this paper. I wanted to tell her about scratch & sniff stickers but refrained. I wanted a card in French and this was the best one. The other option was, "I have you under my skin" which was engrained in leather. Even weirder. And this is a pretty normal card shop.

Ironically yesterday when I was running around to a million different stores to get everything for dinner, I saw a sign on the card shop. "Closed for the afternoon." ONLY in France would the card shop (this woman's only form of income) be close on the afternoon of Valentine's Day - one of the top holidays for buying cards. I'm sure there must be some Frenchman rushing home that forgot to buy a card for his wife until the day of.

I contemplated buying Sir Lancelot a nice gift but then realized that a box of chocolates is all he needs! It's his own box. He can eat them whenever, wherever and how many he wants at one time without me saying anything. I think half of the box is left.

The man at the chocolate shop in our neighborhood was so sweet to me and we only spoke in French! But he had long, black hair and a bandana and the music in the shop sounded like the soundtrack of Willy Wonka when they go through that terrifying tunnel.

All in all, V Day was a huge success here in Paris and stress-free...which is exactly what we needed. I hope you all had a wonderful day as well - filled with love!

Paris métro monday: dans le métro

It was a successful day for a few reasons. French class went well AND I met up with a friend of a friend (shocking right?) for a French-English rendezvous! She is French and wants to improve her English and I speak English and want to improve my French, so the thought is that we'd be a perfect match.

Guess where I met her? Through a woman I met at the Grinch Christmas party our neighbors invited us to. Her name is Sylvia and turns out we are a perfect match! More on this later because what I'm about to tell you does not involve my pigeon Franglais date but instead my rendezvous with Paris' Ligne 4 - that rosy, dark pink line.

Credit: http://circeo59.files.wordpress.com/2009/07/alesia-metro-station-parisdaily.jpg

After a full day of three hours of French lesson, 90 minutes of French homework and another three hours of actually trying to speak French without a bite to eat since 10am and just a black tea to subside me, I was exhausted and ready to get home.

Top left is where I live. Bottom center is where I was.
I don't think Sir L realized how far I was away from home. 

Unfortunately, the Paris métro had other plans for me. Heading from the Alésia stop at the near-end of the 14th, the train stopped between the Vavin and Gare Montparnasse. Stopped as in the lights went out, safety lights clicked on (barely) and we were stuck in the tunnel. Luckily I had secured one of the folding seats and had a book so I could just casually keep to myself.

It didn't help that the intercom sounded just like the crap intercom on the A/C/E trains in New York. Garbled and static along with the announcements being in French did not help me figure out what happened and what was going to happen.

And of course there was the token guy in my car that had to be speaking loudly on the phone and knew that he was that guy and continued to be that guy throughout the next hour.

One thing about me is that if I don't eat for a few hours I'm like a small child and get quite cranky, or "hangry" as we used to call it at work. I was extremely hangry at this point and tired from trying to put together French sentences for 90 minutes. I only could think how happy I was that I chose to pee before jumping on the train!

I had a perfect orange waiting for me in my bag but I was just a bit too scared to eat it. Here's what I said to Lancelot about my predicament since while Facebook does not work that well on Paris trains, actual phones do. I quietly whispered the entire conversation.

Me: I'm stuck in the métro in the 14th. I'm at least an hour away from home without any delays. 


SL: Darling, I'm busy. I have loads of meetings and I'm running the world. 


(I roll my eyes at this comment)


Me: Right I know. I just wanted to let you know that I'm STUCK in the tunnel between two stops. I might not be out of here for hours. I can't understand the intercom because it's crap and it's in French. 


SL: Darling! Ask someone in English. 


Me: No. I'm not calling myself out like that if I might be on this train forever. Plus, I'm starving. I haven't eaten since 10am! 


SL: Ohhhh no. I need to start packing you with biscuits like a little child. 


Me: Well.... I do have an orange. 


SL: Eat it!!! Eat it!


Me: (in a deep whisper) I'm afraid. You know how lovely oranges smell when you peel them and the scent permeates the air... well I'm afraid that someone will say something to me about the orange in French and I won't know what to say back! 


SL: Can't you get off the train?


Me: No. I told you. We're stuck between two stations. If I got out I'd be in the middle of a tunnel. In the dark. 


SL: Eat your orange. I love you. Call me if anything happens or you need help. 

While I quietly read my book for the next hour listening to the loud man on his phone (everyone was laughing at him... I guess he was really funny), Sir L was frantically asking people at work if I would be Ok and should he call an ambulance. When he told me this later that night I responded, "well they would have sent the pompier (firemen) as they do most of the work in those situations."

The train started up again an hour later, I transferred to two other trains to get home and proudly ate (think hoovered) my orange while walking from train to train. Best sugar rush ever.

Have you ever had any horrendous metro stories?? I know I'm not alone in this!

A chilly week in Paris

It's been a cold week. The highs in the low-30s and the lows in the 20s or colder. It's winter so that's fine. While it's freezing and painful to be outside for a long time, the sun was out a lot of the week which was a great opportunity to take a few wintry shots of Paris.

Here is a vacant Tuileries. In the fall, I would spend a lot of time here after French class but now even a brisk walk through the gardens leaves you begging for warmth. 

More shots of the empty Tuileries. In a few months these chairs will be taken and the place will be packed. 

Frozen fountains, bare tree-lined streets and last minute sunsets are common sights in my wintry Paris. 

Staying warm involves bundling up in sweaters, mittens, scarves and fur hats. It means eating a lot of soup and watching movies inside! It's been a nice time for proper hibernation. 

I hope wherever you are that you are staying warm and healthy in this winter season! 

Spreading the Parisian Blog Love...

So a few months into blogging I realized that bloggers award other bloggers. It's sweet and I was lucky enough to be given the Liebster Blog Award by my girlfriend date, Ella Coquine! For those that actually read this on a regular basis (Mom), you will remember I wrote about our wonderful date here.

This is a little award I was quite excited about because 1) Someone actually reads this thing! 2) It was from lovely Ella and 3) The word Liebster is a German adjective for darling, sweet, lovable and kind! Bloggers are nominated if they have under 200 followers and are an inspiration for the new blogging community. Merci beaucoup Ella!

Well, I have under 200 followers but never considered myself an inspiration to the blogging community. If that's not motivation to continue, I don't know what is!

Now it's my turn to give the Liebster Blog award and I've chosen three bloggers. One in France, one in New York and one in Pittsburgh.


FRANCE: 

UpUpandAways 
I've recently started following blogs of expat women that live outside of Paris and find them quite inspiring. I can imagine that living in a smaller French town, while sans Parisiens, can be just if not more challenging and these women take it on with full force. This blog is no exception. I've been in awe at the honesty of each story and of this woman's hard work to continue improving her French (which of course is inspiration for me!) I wish her French drama classes would come to Paris!

NEW YORK: 

Ella Modern
I met Ellen about five years ago through one of my best friends. Although we were not that close, she recently started a lifestyle blog. I enjoy the recipes and the DIY isn't all crafts (I'm not a crafty person but making my own infused vodka sounds FUN). She writes about a variety of topics and their attainable versus some idea that I know I would never be able to do myself.

And finally, PITTSBURGH: 

Acornphotography: Capturing Moments One Click At A Time
Alyson is from my hometown and is an entrepreneur with a budding photography business! Already in 2012 she is blogging more and sharing her fantastic photography skills with us. You can tell this girl has passion for this industry as she apprenticed last summer with a wedding photographer to learn the tricks of the trade and improve her skills. I remember the options for wedding photographers as we searched in Pittsburgh and the options were not that great so I'm sure Alyson has an amazing photography future ahead of her! Check out her work and keep her in mind for future photog needs! Plus, I know she'll appreciate the German aspect of the award!

I think the best thing about the blogging community is the interesting people you "meet" and communicate with. I'm proud to say there are so many intelligent and inspiring women making their way through France, the Big Apple and starting a business and this is just a better way to let everyone know they are out there!

The Japanese love the French

I've had a bit of trouble sitting down to write about Japan. I think it's because there is just so much to say! Instead of writing a longer post here is Japan in picture-list form.

Japanese people are really nice. 

They bow all the time to you and by the second day we got really into it and were bowing hello, thank you and goodbye to everyone as well. We had only positive experiences with how friendly, kind and respectful the Japanese were to us. They went above and beyond to make us feel welcome everywhere - even when we were the only westerners in a place.

I would like to import a Japanese toilet for our apartment. 

This is how it works. The toilets have sensors so the second you walk into the bathroom, the lights go on and the seat-lid goes up. Then the seat is heated which is something you really get used to in the depths of winter weather. Then the toilet can sing to you! Well actually that's just to fake a flushing sound - how many times have you flushed the toilet at work? Admit it. Well Japanese toilets just do it for you! Then there's the built-in bidet and such but let's be honest the best thing is the heated seat.

Ryokans (Japanese traditional inns) are a great way to experience the culture.

Just make sure you understand the etiquette beforehand. Sir L and I had a big night out in the Golden Gai and then were off to our first Ryokan in Shuzenji (a two hour train ride from Tokyo) the next morning. I had done a bit of reading about what to do in the Ryokan but still was a bit flustered when we arrived. Lancelot had no idea and when I told him that he had to wear the toe socks, yukata (a cloth-like kimono) and wooden sandals he laughed in my face. Then of course you have the wooden sandals for the communals parts of the ryokan and then the slippers for the loo and then the slippers to wear right before you put your street shoes back on. It's all quite confusing.

But so so peaceful. After our traditional yuzeki dinner of around 15 small courses in three times the bowls (I hope these people have dishwashers), there was nothing else to do but sleep. Our personal kimono-clad woman put out our futons, rice pillows and duvet covers and we slept from 8:30pm to 7:30am. I can't remember the last time Lancelot and I went to bed before 11pm. It was bliss.

Japanese food is fantastic and you feel healthy eating it. 

Lancelot and I are pretty ambitious when it comes to trying new foods and Japan was no exception. We frequented ramen and udon shops for lunch and ate fantastic sushi (fatty tuna was in season!), hit up a traditional shabu-shabu place and ate copious amounts of tempura, tofu, miso and pickled vegetables. Our favorite spot was a sake bar that played 80's rock and roll and served fantastic Japanese small plates.

Japan has kale! Get with the program France. 

We were lucky enough to be in Tokyo on a Sunday when there are a farmer's markets throughout the city. As the Japanese are with everything, the packaging the vegetables was impeccable. Every vegetable and piece of fruit had a place and was wrapped perfectly. Everything the Japanese do is a work of art.

Sumo is one of the coolest things I've ever seen. 

There are around three Sumo competitions per year and we were fortunate enough to see one! The arena was not packed as the competitions last around two weeks or so but we did get to see the top competitors. The sport is rooted in tradition and there is not one announcer or advertisement in the entire place. It's all about the wrestlers and chants and experience.

Tokyo is fast-paced and overstimulating and has incredible energy. 

We spent about five days in Tokyo but you could easily spend two weeks and not get bored. It's not as much of a walking city as New York or Paris but we covered a lot of ground. My favorite area was Asakusa which is the more traditional area and less urban than areas with modern buildings.

Kyoto is zen with temples, shrines, majestic mountains and the magical streets of Gion and geishas. 

Kyoto is surrounded by snow-capped mountains that remind me of LA. Gion is the small district where geisha live and we were able to spot a few while walking around during dusk. It's hard to believe that most likely in another generation, the art form will be extinct (there are only a few thousand geisha left in Japan compared to over 80,000 post WWII). We took walks and runs around the various temples and shrines and explore a flea market full of Japanese goods and food.

And last but not least, the Japanese are obsessed with all things French! Boulangeries, patisseries, brocantes, chez this and chez that. The Japanese love the French!

Green tea macarons.

Saint-Germain cafe. 

Their version of Champs-Elysees.