A few weeks ago, I signed up for lafourchette.com. It's similar to OpenTable in the US in that you can rate your experience at a given restaurant, read other people's reviews, and book a table online. It's perfect for those of us who don't like to talk to human beings over the phone but like eating good food :) An added bonus with LaForuchette is that many of the restaurants will offer a discount on a set menu if you book online - it's a win-win situation. Anyway, all that to say that LaFourchette also sends around the occasional advertisement, like the one I received yesterday: With a title like "the burger crosses the Atlantic," how could I not be intrigued? Apparently, LaFourchette has declared that Feb 24 - Mar 2 is burger week here in Paris, with select restaurants offering 50% off your fine burger dining experience.
The ad goes on to say that last year, French people ate 970 million burgers. Wait, what?!? That's a lot of burgers for a gastronomically superior nation. This phenomenon was actually first brought to my attention by Michael (who scoops me on everything) a few weeks back, who found an article on CNN claiming that 45% of all sandwiches sold in France last year were burgers - to the sad and slow decline of the ubiquitous French baguette sandwich. I did a quick search for a comparable statistic on burger consumption in the United States, and according to an article published on the reputable outlet that is the Huff Post, burgers make up 40% of all sandwiches sold in the US each year. France may beat the US in the burger-to-other-sandwich ratio game, HOWEVER, the article goes on to announce that Americans consume nearly 50 billion (with a B) burgers every year. So there's that to be proud of. And while it's unlikely France will ever catch up to the sheer volume of hamburgers consumed on American soil, it's not for lack of effort on the part of the American fast food industry. France is apparently the second-largest market for McDonald's after the United States. So on behalf of Americans the world over who don't particularly find McDonald's appealing (but do love a good burger), we're sorry they got to you too, French friends.
0 Comments
Parisians are not exactly know for being early risers. Rush hour here is solidly 9am onward, and you definitely won't see crowds earlier than 8:30am. Such was my experience heading to work "early" yesterday at 7:45am. Sure, the sun is technically up -- which is still relatively new this early, btw -- but it was just me and the white-haired riders. You can actually see a bus lapping us on the outside, probably out of sheer boredom.
Before getting on the bus, I turned around and snapped this photo of the Grand Palais. The sun rising over Paris is a thing worth getting up early for, even if you are on the early side of a Monday morning. When we got married last November, we had JustEnoughTime to plan the wedding, pack our things, [drive across the country], and move to Paris. So instead of taking a honeymoon after the wedding, we decided that Paris would just have to do, and that we would make 2014 the year of the European "Mini-moons." Our first such destination was the beautiful Mont Saint Michel, which is a Benedictine Abbey and medieval village built on a small island off the coast of Normandy. It was originally established in the eighth century, and became a popular destination for pilgrims back in the day. At one point it was turned into a prison, but has now been converted back into a monastery and is a UNESCO world heritage site. So it's beautiful... and FULL of tourists. We decided to spend the night on Le Mont so as to have a little bit of time there without the throngs of tourists, almost half of which I would say were Japanese. If it was this busy in February, I cannot imagine how crazy it must be in the summer. Seriously, I have not seen this many Japanese tourists concentrated in one place outside of Honolulu. Our weekend journey began in Paris with an early Saturday morning car rental, followed by a 3.5 hour drive to the coast. We then hopped on one of the "free" shuttles across the bay for tourists who don't fancy a cold walk on a February afternoon. Until recently, Mont Saint Michel was only accessible during low tide via a natural causeway. A few years ago the French government solved that problem by building a dam to remove the silt that had built up over time, and constructing a new access road that allows tourists and shuttles to travel to and from the island without consulting the tidal patterns. What a view! The Abbey is pretty great too. Once we made it inside the city walls, we were not totally prepared for the amount of village we encountered. I honestly thought it would be a maybe a few buildings in the shadow of the Abbey, but there was a main street (the Grand Rue, complete with kitschy souvenirs from China), a flock of hotels, a cemetery, townhouses, museums, and of course, an over-priced-and-under-whelming restaurant scene. Our hotel was super cute, though, and we had a lovely time wandering around the island and exploring the tiny medieval side streets. We even made it to Mass at the Abbey on Sunday morning, which was performed by Monks in their hooded robes, swinging orbs of incense, lighting candles, and singing mass. It was hauntingly beautiful. I think we could have definitely used a third day to the weekend, though, as we ended up spending almost 5 hours getting back home on Sunday.
All in all, it was an awesome start to our 2014 mini-moon extravaganza. I would definitely recommend anyone visit Mont Saint Michel, but make sure to time your trip during low tourist season, and stop by the grocery store on the way in. More pictures here :) Who would have guessed it would be in Paris? We don't typically make a big deal out of Valentine's day, but since this is our first one as a married couple, and we just moved to Paris... it just felt like the right occasion to celebrate with lovely pink roses around the apartment, a fantastic bottle of wine, homemade chicken tagine, a view of the Eiffel tower from the hallway window ... and of course my devastatingly handsome husband who makes for fantastic eye candy ;)
After taking the Metro for the first two months in Paris when we were in the 15th, I am now commuting to work via bus. Which is nice for a few reasons. First of all, bus stops in Paris have electronic signs that tell you exactly when to expect the next bus. Having stood for anywhere up to 40 minutes in DC waiting for the effing 11Y to show up, this is a huge step towards modernity. And then, of course, traveling above ground is a huge improvement to descending into the lower depths of the city with millions of other morning commuters. A few fun facts about the Métro: it was first opened in 1900 during the World's Fair, and is today the second busiest rapid transit system in Europe (behind Moscow), carrying over 4 million people every day. The Châtelet station is the largest underground station in the world. Who knew? Anyway, above ground is better. If you take a look at the route 63 map below, I get on the bus at the Jean Nicot -Église Américaine station, ride across the bridge with a pretty fab view of the Eiffel tower on the left, pass by the Flame of Liberty monument (actual-size Statue of Liberty flame and unofficial Princess Di memorial), and get off at last stop (Porte de la Muette). The whole trip door to door takes about 30 minutes. Even on a rainy cold February day, the commute home is an incredible end to any day at work, no matter how crappy it may have been (note to concerned readers: it's not crappy, but it's also a job, so it's bound to be crappy sometimes). When I'm really lucky, we drive over the bridge on the hour when the tower puts on its version of a twinkly Vegas light show.
We woke up this morning to blue skies above Paris, which actually made me do a double-take as I walked by the window - it's basically been gray and rainy for weeks, making the sun a very welcome sight. And because it's the first Sunday of the month, many of the museums in Paris open their doors for free. We decided to spend our first free museum Sunday at the Musée Rodin, which is in our hood, and houses Rodin's famous sculpture, The Thinker (Le Penseur). I had not realized it before our visit, but The Thinker was originally cast as part of Rodin's The Gates of Hell in 1888 (pictured below on the right with that handsome man in the front), and represents Dante, leaning forward to observe the circles of Hell while meditating on his work. It was enlarged in 1904 to a larger statue, and was recast into numerous sculptures that are housed around the world (Wikipedia says there are 28 of them). The museum itself is currently under renovation, which was a bit disappointing, but hey we didn't pay to get in so we couldn't complain too much. It's definitely a gorgeous building that will be great to see once it's finished, but overall it was a different experience than what we had expected (aka, to see a museum and not just gardens). And then our day took a turn that we had not anticipated when heading out this morning. While wrapping up our Rodin visit in the gift shop, we heard shouts from what sounded like a large crowd outside, and saw this from the window: Um... what?!? We had absolutely NO idea what was going on outside, but as we headed out of the museum, we saw a huge crowd of protestors marching down the Ecole Militaire waiving flags and holding signs.
The Rodin museum was smack in the middle of an area that was barricaded on either side by the police. We weren't sure if we would be able to get out, and even saw a guy pushing a police officer who wouldn't let him through. Time to leave. It turned out to be a non-violent protest organized by a group called Manif Pour Tous, which translates "Protest for Everyone." The group was marching in defense of "traditional family values" and against proposed changes to French law that would allow gay marriage. The group was described on one news channel as the French response to America's Tea Party. In other words, we are not huge fans of these people. However, I am always moved when I see people with the ability to peacefully voice their opinion without being silenced by the government (even if I don't happen to agree with them). Protesters had traveled to Paris from all around the region, and were proudly marching behind signs announcing the town from which they came - in all, tens of thousands of people showed up. We stood and watched the people walk by for maybe 30 minutes. They just kept coming, and it was remarkable to see how well-organized they all were. Everyone was waving a pink or blue flag with the same logo on it (one mother, one father, two children - because that's obviously what defines a family), or a French flag, or a pink or blue sweatshirt marked with the same logo. At one point, Michael said something about how strange it was to see so many children taking part in the protest - the visible manifestation of what a family "should" look like. It was so sad to both of us to see these kids running around and waving flags in support of something that they were clearly too young to understand. One of these things is not like the other ones. For those of you who aren't religious coffee drinkers, please allow me to introduce you to a few old friends above, and one snobby newcomer. On the far left, we of course have a typical drip coffee maker. It can crank out a good 10 cups of coffee at any given time, feeding your industrial-sized caffeine addiction every morning (or afternoon - we don't judge). In the middle, you find our good friend the Keurig, or "K-Cup" coffee maker. I used to be pretty opposed to drinking coffee this way, but after living with a man who doesn't drink coffee (this is slowly changing btw), I found that my single-serving-no-mess coffee pod in the morning was in fact a good option for me. We had one for years in DC, and she was called the Blue Goddess - if you've ever had one of the newer ones, you'll know why. And finally, at the far right, we have the Nespresso coffee/espresso maker. Apparently it's a Nestlé product developed in Switzerland in the 1970s, but it is absolutely EVERYWHERE here in France. These machines are sprinkled around the offices at work, and when they have a coffee/pastry gathering on the occasional morning, the expectation is that you bring your own Nespresso-brand pod and correspondingly tiny cup. But I'll be honest, I still cannot figure out how to use one of those things with any level of confidence. During the first week I was in Paris last December, I had the TV on in an attempt to soak up some French by watching the local news. When, all of the sudden, I hear English! And not just any English... George-effing-Clooney is on the screen, charming the pants off of viewers while promoting Nespresso. Apparently, the George has a long-running series of commercials over here that tell a love story centering around a beautiful woman that always gets beat out by his love of Nespresso coffee - yeah right. What else, George? How about a coffee maker that gives me options and doesn't make me feel like a complete idiot every time I try to use it? That would be nice. So without further ado, please allow me to present the newest member of our family, purchased and lovingly set up by Michael, the Pink Goddess: My favorites so far are the capuccino and Petit Déjuner varieties. Of course, we also have expresso on hand, because at some point whenever we have people over for dinner, we will need to be able to offer strong baby coffees to those who prefer them.
But the point here is that we now have choices! And it's super cute. |
AuthorBecause why not get married and move to Paris to really kick off your thirties? Archives
December 2016
|