From Paris with love

I love it when Americans talk about what make the French so French; from black turtlenecks and berets to necking in the parks, and lest one forget the old cliché (recently reintroduced in book format) “French Women Don’t get Fat.” It would seem that the New York Times has done it again. Elaine Sciolino, who is leaving her post as Paris Correspondent, gives us a few new DOs and DON’Ts in what is less a “so French” article as much as it is a how to be French article. I know, I eat this kind of stuff up. I’m embarassed for myself as well. But I shared Elaine’s embarassment in running out for butter in work-out clothes only to run into the crème de la crème (politicians, diplomats, etc.) of the quartier (Rule #6). Whenever I don’t bother to brush my hair it is without a doubt I run into an ex or someone who says “I didn’t know you wore glasses” when they really mean “I think you should use a better eye cream.” Elaine also notes another of my favorite pastimes, flirting with the butcher (Rule #4). I don’t mean batting eyelashes (although it can be helpful in scoring that last roast beef) I mean the light banter that can get you some great cooking advice or even a meat thermometer on loan. Although I notice that these pleasantries can backfire when one is cooking anything other than French cuisine (Rule #3). When I last told the butcher I wanted an assortment of ground meat for an Italian ragu. I was told that only “this, not that” was to be used in ragu, and definitely not pork. Even though I insisted it was an Italian recipe, he held his ground and begrudgingly sold me my meat along with the compulsory “extra 100 grams”. I now usually ask for 100 grams less than what I really need and rarely let on that I would use this precious meat for any recipe but French one.

Au revoir Elaine!

When it comes to haircuts in Paris the choices are limited; the chain salon, the 500€ designer cut, the 40€ blow-out and the trendy Toni and Guy student-rate style (voir motorcycle mullet for first-year fashion school victims). Never has Paris been home to the down-home, “someone’s basement” haircut. Until now. If you’ve ever had the overwhelming yet euphoric shopping experience that is “Mamie’s” vintage boutique then you may have ventured downstairs and found this busy-body dandy trimming away. Amidst the tightly packed racks of polyester Big Joe, the self proclaimed “grandfather of the rock and roll” holds down a little trimming corner decked out in zoot suit relics. Uh - Actually no, I take that back, Big Joe was another French guy with a bouffante “do” just chilling out. Here the master of ceremony is “Nicky.” There were so many of them hanging around the other afternoon that it could have been an audition for a French rendition of “Happy Days.” Anyways, Nicky keeps his own hours so it’s best to call in advance to make sure he’ll be around: 06 72 64 76 78.

Nicky’s average hours are:
Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday 2:30 pm-7pm

Mamie
73 r Rochechouart
75009 PARIS
Metro: Anvers

This apartment has been a labor of love. Recently and meticulously redecorated after being completely gutted, this apartment has got me wishing I was a tourist in Paris on a long weekend. And the amenities are just to my liking; champagne, bathrobes, exposed beams, sexy bedroom lighting, a great kitchen, if only I was on vacation….

850€/week, read more here

Picture this: It’s a lazy Sunday (well not too lazy lest you forget to make your brunch reservation). You and the entire world are heading to the Marais. All those poor fools will line up for falafels, but not you. Did I mention it’s 60°F? Well it is, finally. You take your seat at one of two tables on the terrace facing east. When the waitress comes by in marine stripes you imagine yourself on the rocky Brittany coast (bear with me here). You start with oysters (remember that time you sucked down halfshells sitting on the breakaway wall in Cancale?), then on to the savory with a glass of cidre and finish with a salty caramel crepe. People (not many, as this is one of the quieter streets during the Sunday rush) pass by and say they have heard this place is great. You smile and break off another flaky, buckwheat morsel of a divine Sunday afternoon.

It would seem that I’m the dernière personne à Paris to discover the crepes at Breizh Café (yes, yes, you’ve probably read about it elsewhere by now). But I am one of the only ones who know you can reserve on the terrace.

Breizh Café
109, r. Vieille du Temple
75003 Paris
01 42 72 13 77
Closed Tuesdays, Open 12pm-10pm

Or in Cancale:
7, Quai Thomas
35260 Cancale
02 99 29 61 76

Whether you believe in the cult of Michelin or not, the gossip is what it is, and this year, it may just shake things up. Word on the street (and in the kitchens) is that the guide is an archaic old boys club. And while they have commended young chefs such as Daniel Rose from Spring, some of us still remain non-plussed (with Rose as well). The French guide comes out March 6th but Adrien has got an impressive low-down that reads something like this; Ze Kitchen Gallery gets a star (yum!), L’Atelier de Joel Robuchon gets two and Alain Ducasse gets one for Jules Verne. But the big question on everyone’s tongue is whether Alain Passard will lose one of his three stars. The potential loss is being chalked up to bad phone manners, go figure. I happen to quite like L’Arpege (it’s hard not to), and when I cash in my new years greeting card worth a lunch for two, I’ll certainly pay attention for telephone faux pas, but come on! Who remembers the reservation phone call after a meal there, who cares.

My friend Jean has got a killer valentines rate for his Paris center studio. Available through March. For more info check here.

Although Paris fashion week has come and gone there are still some remnants here and there. The sales are in effect until the 19 of February, and even though much sifting is involved, I have heard that good deals can still be had at Gallery Lafayette. But if you happen to come across a 75 percent off sign at the Chloé purse stand I don’t want to know about it, as the 50 percent off already got the better of me. And if rampant consumerism, and pretty face fashion isn’t your thing, you can always have a go at the gritty side of Paris à la mode through the photographs of Luc Choquer. His work, although quite fashionable, looks predominantly at those on the edges of fashion or those looking in. If you’ve ever been to a Paris fashion show or even in the district where one is happening, you can’t miss the skinny legs or the beehive-meets-convent look of Diane Pernod (photo on the left). Until February 23rd.

Luc Choquer
Galerie Agathe Gaillard
3, rue du Pont Louis Philippe
75004 Paris
01 42 77 38 24
www.agathegaillard.com

If the whole Sarkozy-super-model-secret-wedding-Dior-ring- Simone-de-Beauvoir’s bum-bling bling-copyright-story has left you befuddled, Adam Gopnik has got a good piece on it in this week’s New Yorker.

ILLUSTRATION: TOM BACHTELL for The New Yorker

Update: It’s official, 20 minutes flat.

The rue du pont Louis Philippe is a bag of goodies for the scrawler, note-taker, gift giver or paper collector seeking limited edition, Japanese nori sheet papiers. My favorite is the Calligrane shop with it’s whimsical window dressings and stylish embossed calling cards. There is also Melodies Graphiques for writing knick-knacks and finally the more traditional Papier + for leather bound books.

Calligrane
6, rue du pont Louis Philippe
75004 Paris
01 48 04 09 00
open Tues-Sat, 11-7pm

Melodies Graphiques
10, rue du pont Louis Philippe
75004 Paris
01 42 74 57 68

Papier +
9, rue du pont Louis Philippe
75004 Paris
01 42 77 70 49
open Mon-Sat, 12-7pm

Is it a sign of the times? In case you missed it, the Parisian metro system is sponsoring an erotic exhibiton at the national library. Over 350 texts (lisiting addresses of former brothels and the likes), photographs and sound installations are on view, to those over 16 that is. Even the metro is getting involved with a quickie erotic passage on the line 10. And meanwhile, French president Nicholas Sarkovy gallavants across the globe with his ex-model girlfriend and pop star Carla Bruni. Once a consort to Mick Jagger and Eric Clapton (not to mention an awkward father-son combo) and a declared polygamous, Ms. Bruni is rumored to be settling down with the French President with perhaps a baby in tow. In the city of loud cat-calls, quieter presidential mistresses and bare it all advertisements, this is just your daily news. “Hell at the Library, Eros in Secret” (L’Enfer de la Bibliothèque, Eros au secret) is on display until the 22nd of March.
BnF, Site François-Mitterrand
Quai François-Mauriac, 75013
www.bnf.fr
Tuesday-Saturday: 10am-7pm
Sunday: 1pm-7pm
Admission: 7€