Gooooooal: Vive la France

In case you slept through the boisterous and clamorous celebrations late last night all over Paris, let me inform you that: No, France did not win the world cup. They merely qualified having tied with Ireland 1-1. Living near L'Arc de Triumph and Champs Elysees has its benefits, but last night's raucous made for a rather sleepless night. As an added bonus to the never-ending honking, Algeria qualified too sending emotions and flags running wild...

Les Triplets de Belleville--its nuts!

Take the M(2) to Belleville, the multi-cultural and multi-arrondissement (includes part of the 11e, 20e, 19e, 10e on the Parisian escargo map) neighborhood for excellent nut-spice-Middle-Easter-Chinese-Jewish-Lebanese-Moroccan-you-name-it markets. Heavenly pâtisserie and boulangerie orientales--think baklava in multitude of forms and shapes, and flat-bread galore. Patisserie Orientale La Rose Sucrée was one such shop where the elaborate baklava looked more like precious bijoux than edibles. The kind storekeeper gave us a sample of the Malfoufe Noisette Homs, divine--but really, nuts, honey, filo and butter??  Impossible to fail. 

Definitely worth a visit--make it an entire day of exploring this modern day Granada (of course without the architectural exquisiteness of the Alhambra...) where cultures and religions are woven together in relative harmony. 

Fun fact: Belleville's most famous resident was Edith Piaf...

Fear not the Soufflé!

Oh, those tricky and temperamental egg-whites!   

Don't mix that batter too much! 

What if your soufflé never rises? Tsk, tsk! 

Or flops upon serving? (Gasp!)

Fear the Soufflé! 

Those dreadful physical manifestations of a soufflé failure, a testament to derisory cooking skills, are enough to keep you far away from this truly scrumptious meal. 

Contrary to its portrayal in popular media and culture, soufflé preparation is actually pretty simple; its really much more of a mental challenge than any kind of representation of culinary proclivity. A few tricks to assure success: 

Use eggs that are at room temperature.

Be sure that when you separate the whites from yoke, no yoke sneaks into the white--this will prevent the whites from fluffing.

Use an electric whisk to beat the egg whites, in a very clean (and dry) bowl. Beat egg whites to a soft peak and a satin look.

When folding the egg whites into your Béchamel sauce, be gentle...

Lucky (très cher!) charms

When I was contemplating what kind of soufflé to make, I came across my favorite fungi, the chantarelle at the market.  My father, of-course would consider it a mortal sin to make anything other than chanterelle smörgås, but it was not so much his objections to 'wasting' the perfect mushroom than the ridiculous price for the delicacies at 31 Euros/kilo, that kept me at bay...  

It makes one appreciate those brim-filled baskets from the summer-cottage...long September hours spent deep in the tick-infested, mosquito plagued, elk-poop ridden forest hunting for the little hidden lucky charms. Hmm..

I opted for the chantarelle's shoddier relative, les champignons. It was delicious, non-the-less!

Prelle, please.

 Prelle, located at 5 Place Victoires in the first arrondissement, (tel 01 42 36 67 21) is a descendant from one of the oldest silk furnishing fabric factories in Lyon.  The 5-generations old family own business has worked on some of the most regal and renown palaces and castles in France, including Versailles and the Louvre. 

Although you will not be able to see the manufacturing process at their Paris boutique, you will be able to appreciate the vast collection in their show room. I recommend taking the tour. 

Escapism

Behold, a late August sunset on a little paradise summer-cottage in Finland. It is this impression Mlle. Global Gallerina seeks to find inner peace and harmony on those bleak winter days when the rat-race, the boundless quick tempo and cacophony of a city overwhelm. 

13e: Chinatown for Tom Yum @ Tang Frères

Tang Frères.

Hidden inside an old French railway warehouse is the enormous Asian produce market, Tang Frères which was established by the Ratanawan brothers, Laotian immigrants. The smells and sights from everywhere will overwhelm you. It is a great experience, much more civilized and richer than NYC's Chinatown! 

I was, however, disappointed with the Tom Yum paste selection and, consequently, the outcome of my Tom Yum soup:( The sushi was perfect though!

48, ave d'Ivry. 75013. Métro: Porte d'Ivry.

Pierre Soulages: Outrenoir, Painting with Black

<J’aime l’autorité du noir. C’est une couleur qui ne transige pas. Une couleur violente, mais qui incite pourtant a l’intériorisation. À la fois couleur, et non-couleur.>

Pierre Soulages le peintre et l’artiste vivant le plus connu de la scène française est né en 1919, à Rodez en Aveyron. En 1924, à un très jeune age, Soulages a perdu son père. Dans sa jeunesse, Soulages a montre un intérêt pour les paysages, et une passion pour l’art romain. C’est à ce jeune age qu’il a proclamé son désire de devenir un artiste. À 18ans, Soulages est allé a Paris pour la première fois. C’est cet été là qu’il a visité les plus grands musées, et il a été inspire par Cézanne et Picasso. En 1940, pendant la deuxième guerre mondiale, Soulages a été appelé sous les drapeaux à Montpellier, mais il a rapidement quitte l’armée et a poursuivi son intérêt par l’art à L’école des Beaux-Arts. C’est cet été-là, à Montpellier, qu’il a connu l’artiste abstrait, Sonia Delaunay, et a develope un style unique, abstrait et géométrique. En 1941, Soulages a eu sa première exposition personnelle à la galerie Lydia Conti à Paris. À parti de 1946, il a travaillé a son atelier à Courbevoie, près de Paris ou il a connu Picabia, Hartung et Léger, ses contemporains. Pendant 1949-1952, ses œuvres d’art ont établi une réputation d’avant-garde et a la mode à Paris. En 1950, Soulages a gange, l’estime internationale avec des expositions collectives a New York, Londres et Copenhague.Ses œuvres sont s’inspires de ses voyages au Mexique, aux Etats-Unis, et au Japon en 1958. Pendant les années 1950, les plus grands musées du monde ont commencé à collectionner ses œuvres. Aujourd’hui il y a plus de 150 de ses œuvres dans des musées.
En 1979 quand Soulages a travaillé pour une exposition du Centre George Pompidou il a découvert la couleur noire. Il a découvert la profondeur, la lumière et la couleur noire, grâce a une toile imparfaite. Dès lors, son style a change profondément : il a refusé toute référence et forme figurative, toutes les tendances géométriques et toutes les couleurs. Il a privilégié la couleur noire, entièrement la couleur noire sur la toile. C’était le début de son style, qui s’appelle l'outrenoir.
 À l’age de 90 ans, Soulage demeure une figure très importante dans le monde de l’art. Ses œuvres content cher. Son actuelle rétrospective au Centre Pompidou est un fascinant regard sur sa vie et son travail. 

Coquilles Saint-Jacques à la Provençale

I got into my Julia Child-mode the other night and made a heavenly scallop dish. Just divine (although, really, its impossible for anything to go wrong when cooking with butter and garlic and white wine)!

Buy fresh scallops (à la marche, bien sur), white wine (dry, although it was fine with sweet! ha!) salt, peppa, bay leaf, shallots, butter, olive oil,thyme, swiss cheese, et voila. Delicious!

Learn 'How to Bake a Stuffed, Boned Duck in a Pastry Crust' too. 

L'As du Falafel, Best Falafel

So, why eat falafel in France? Why, indeed. 

Well, if truth be told, one can only consume a certain amount of the delicious, rich cream-butter-and-cheese infused gastronomy of France such as, Veau Prince Orloff, or Soufflé au Roquefort, or choucroute, before the waistline begins its interminable expansion, and one begins to lose appreciation for the finer delicacies of French haute cuisine.  

L'As du Falafel located in the chic and hip neighborhood of Les Marais is perfectly positioned on the lovely walking street of Rue des Rosiers right in the heart of art galleries, boutiques and vintage stores galore. It also happens to be one of the most vibrant Jewish communities. 

The falafels, for pocket change of 5E a piece, were just right, not too fried, the pita fresh and warm, the humus not too bitter, and an interesting addition of pickeled cabbage (a first for me..) and sautéd eggplant to die for...just perfect! La Varenne, the king of  bisque and Béchamel sauce, might even have agreed--ha! For an added bonus, walk across the street to the kosher bakery and get divine rugelach!

Even Mark Bittman, my vegan hero, never misses this spot when in town. (I've heard that Chez Marianne is a very close 2nd place winner, have yet to try it, though.) 

L'As du Fallafel, 34, rue des Rosiers (Métro: St. Paul); Closed Saturday.

♥ Rue Rembrant, Parc Monceau, 8e

Hidden behind the magnificent little green splotch known as Parc Monceau in the très très chic quartier of the 8e arronidssement and a natural frontier for the 17e arronidssement, is Rue Rembrant.  Thick, autumn-ripe vine leaves cling to the old art nouveau buildings. I can just imagine scenes of 1920's decadence and over-indulgence seeping out from the great lavishly curtained windows. 

Ode to the Revolution, Nathalie by Gilbert Bécaud

In honor of the Russian Revolution (today: November 7th, 1917...)....a very popular French song from the 1960's played today on the radio...

Nathalie, Gilbert Bécaud

La place Rouge était vide

Devant moi marchait Nathalie
Il avait un joli nom, mon guide
Nathalie

La place Rouge était blanche
La neige faisait un tapis
Et je suivais par ce froid dimanche
Nathalie

Elle parlait en phrases sobres
De la révolution d'octobre
Je pensais déjà
Qu'après le tombeau de Lénine
On irait au cafe Pouchkine
Boire un chocolat

La place Rouge était vide
J'ai pris son bras, elle a souri
Il avait des cheveux blonds, mon guide
Nathalie, Nathalie...

Dans sa chambre à l'université
Une bande d'étudiants
L'attendait impatiemment
On a ri, on à beaucoup parlé
Ils voulaient tout savoir
Nathalie traduisait

Moscou, les plaines d'Ukraine
Et les Champs-Élysées
On à tout melangé
Et l'on à chanté

Et puis ils ont débouché
En riant à l'avance
Du champagne de France
Et l'on à dansé

Et quand la chambre fut vide
Tous les amis etaient partis
Je suis resté seul avec mon guide
Nathalie

Plus question de phrases sobres
Ni de révolution d'octobre
On n'en était plus là
Fini le tombeau de Lenine
Le chocolat de chez Pouchkine
C'est, c'était loin déjà

Que ma vie me semble vide
Mais je sais qu'un jour à Paris
C'est moi qui lui servirai de guide
Nathalie, Nathalie
Lyrics: Nathalie, Gilbert Bécaud

Day trip-Biking in Vernon

Located just 45 minutes outside of Paris with the SNCF, this is a charming (bon marché) and highly recommended little excursion North-Westward en route to Normandy. The sights, smells and pace of life of the town of Vernon in Eure are a welcomed change from modish, and quick tempo of Ile de Paris. Pick your own apples, grapes and blackberries on an (easy) 7km bike ride from Vernon to Monet's village of Giverny.  A visit to Monet's house and garden (Fondation Claude Monet) is a must preferably during the sping/summer months when the gardens are in full bloom. 

My endeavors at verse

To Mormor on your 80th Birthday

September 23rd 2009, come on, come all, come celebrate!

For those not aware, let me translate,

My Mormor, Sue-Aunt, is maturing in age;

Sue Maguire Beckner is turning to the Octogenarian page!

Born on the Autumnal Equinox;

You hail from the era of pre-jukebox and moonwalks,

Yes, 1929, what an auspicious year! (ha!)

And, weren't you quite the hand-full--or so I hear!

As a youthful charm, you captured many hearts,

At St. Agnes, and Smith you excelled in the arts.

Traversing the world withyour refinement and grace,

Thank-heavens Daddy Bruce scored with an ace!

You're a card playing pro, and a devil at the net

Some might tease, and call you quite the coquette!

What a gregarious hostess, with such culinary proclivity,

Why not mention your cardinal and bluebird affinity.

As written by the stars, you rein with such magnanimity,

You're always perfectly poised and ever so witty.

You're never lugubrious, and neither iniquitous,

And we all laud your endeavors at societal justice.

The many miles you've traveled, criss-crossing the continents,

Withbags full of goodies, you've brought your steady guidance.

From rampant stagflation of the Argentine Peso,

To wobbly Jakarta rickshaws, and that swimming pool gecko!

From Grankulla's pugent lilac tree,

And Warsaw, rather bleakly.

To our many homes, you've come bearing gifts,

But, its your presence that always, always uplifts!

And what happy dog days of summer,

Those warm nights, so tender.

T'was Annapolis childhood bliss,

Those precious memories, how I do miss:

Cathching fireflies in old glass jars

Or the nightly indulgence in our favorite Klondike bars!

The bathing in kitchen sinks,

And your betraying gold-bangled clinks.

You're the P, B &J-sammie expert,

The queen of 'tough-love' but always comfort,

The wrinkled elbows, of course we shan't forget!

But, where were you with our chickenpox onset?

So, read to me in Swedish! Tack and hor du, how about Luparu?

Nobody tells a story quite like Sue!

The lingering family oral anecdotes: Mormor: whare you are?

And the smell of your ol' beat-up Toyota car.

Oh, what a Mormor you've been, and what a Mormor you'll be

Let me sit by you at your vanity!

So much to admire, like your horticultural prowess,

And, how did you ever become such a lexical goddess?

I'm in awe of your everlasting sanguinity,

Hats off to you--you've reach eighty!

Oh Mormor, you are boundless, and more importantly, timeless!

Come, come! Come to Paris!

xx 

Tracking Traces @ Kiasma, Helsinki

Sometimes Finnish art exhibits truly surprise me. In a good way. I loved this exhibit!

"The world that surrounds us is full of signs and messages – traces of the world that contemporary art makes use of by copying, recycling, sampling and commenting on them. Traces can be found near and far: on the human body, in advertising images, on cereal packets and in the urban space. The traces can be physical imprints, visible signs, actions or memory traces. Some of the traces are left consciously, others are accidental. The one thing shared by the traces in the exhibition's works is that they transmit as well as shape our idea of ourselves and of the world. They are about life and the need for interaction."