The gym beckoned as usual, although going at 8 makes it seem like half the day is over already. I thought I would show our route to the gym. (See photos; its very usualness makes it appealing for some reason.)<\/p>\n
Fought off the urge for a\u00a0pain chocolat\u00a0<\/em>on the way back and felt virtuous for it.<\/p>\n To do or not to do, that is the question. When you live here, even for this short time, there’s always the semi-rhetorical question,\u00a0‘What shall we do today?’ given that there’s an infinite number of new and interesting things\u00a0to do or see. But if we were in Toronto, we wouldn’t necessarily\u00a0“do” anything (except work, likely), so why would\u00a0we here? Any, you really need some down time, along with the museums, etc. (although I suppose, that is “down time” of sorts).<\/p>\n We had a\u00a0moules frites\u00a0<\/em>lunch at a place that my friends Martin and Candy first took me to\u00a025 years ago. It’s a student-frequented, beer bar called La Gueuze, 19, rue Soufflot, just\u00a0below\u00a0the Panth\u00e9on. When we were first here, I chose a beer called Le Rince Cochon, basically for its amusing name.\u00a0Closest I could think as translation is “hog-wash” or “pig-swill.” I still drink it almost every time we are in Paris if we are near La Gueuze. (That name must mean something like “guzzle,” I would think.) Shannon, the photos are really different this time.<\/p>\n After\u00a0lunch, we were going to walk around the 5th arr. (really, the Latin Quarter\/Sorbonne area) but, though\u00a0the forecast was otherwise, it started pouring and, of course, we didn’t have our (new) umbrellas so came home and had a few hour nap to\u00a0regroup.<\/p>\n Having cleared, of course, we went strolling around the ‘hood, not with any destination in mind, but just for the walk. Then it hailed! No matter.<\/p>\n About 15 years ago, I had dinner with a former CBC radio arts correspondent who was stationed in Paris and to whom I was introduced by a mutual friend as I happened to be here. She told me how difficult it was to break into Parisian society even at the\u00a0acquaintance level, even for someone who spoke French fluently as she did. She described a very stratified social\u00a0millieu<\/em>; people who went to SciencesPo, for instance, hung around with others of that ilk.<\/p>\n Anyway, she chose Chez Ren\u00e9, 14, bd. Saint-Germain for dinner, a bistro that’s been around since the late 50s, specializing in Lyonnais\/Beaujolais\u00a0regional cuisine. I don’t remember the food particularly well except that on the off-chance, I asked for\u00a0fraises des bois\u00a0<\/em>for dessert, something not on the menu. (I was in Paris in late summer.) These are tiny wild strawberries, the flavour of which you don’t find in the commercially-produced ones you\u00a0buy everywhere now (even here). Anyway, they had some and so, with a little\u00a0cr\u00e8me fr\u00e2iche<\/em>, this was our dessert. If Proust had his\u00a0madeleine\u00a0<\/em>moment, this was mine. I took the menu home, stuck\u00a0l’addition<\/em>, written in that beautiful old script, in it and had it framed. It’s been hanging in our kitchen since then.<\/p>\n I have been asking all the produce-sellers\u00a0at the\u00a0march\u00e9\u00a0<\/em>if they have any\u00a0fraises des bois\u00a0<\/em>and either we are too early (likely) or one just doesn’t get them anymore. One guy told me that you don’t find them sold anywhere these days but who knows, I’ll just keep looking.<\/p>\n The place has hardly changed since then (although the menu itself is now common and uninteresting-looking) and I am convinced we had the same, charming\u00a0waiter (possible, as he’s been there 20+ years he told us) as I had 15 years ago. Dinner was fun but the food was nothing to blog home about, pretty ordinary,\u00a0en fait<\/em>. Packed when we left at about 10:30. Just goes to show…what I am not quite sure.<\/p>\n\n\t\t