Paris Where You Are

Introducing Paris to Children

I set out to find a new ensemble for an upcoming interview and ended up discovering all-manner of clever things for Harper Marie (my soon-to-be-born step-granddaughter)—mostly books—for which she is years away from being ready.

I bet most of you didn’t know (or care) that Anthropologie has a children’s section--small, but with a nice variety of merchandise, including an interesting collection of children’s books.  What first caught my eye was a pop-up version of Le Petit Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery).  I know, a pop-up version sounds kind of awful . . . and it actually was kind of awful.  But there was also a charming little book, originally published in the 1930s, called Manners Can Be Fun (Munro Leaf).   As I stand on the edge of becoming a step-grandmother, I hear this book calling to me, and apparently, so have many other grandmothers.  If you take a look at the reviewers' comments on Amazon, a number of them mention with fondness their grandmothers’ role in bringing this book into their lives. 

The back flap of the dust jacket recommended three other titles:  This is London, This is New York, and . . . This is Paris.  My heart leaped!  I had forgotten about this series by Miroslav Sasek , introducing world travel to children.   Barnes and Noble was only a few stores away.  I knew that title had to be on the children’s bookshelf in my new house. 

My son, Joseph, was a late talker, but I distinctly remember hearing him say “Eiffel Tower.”  One of the books we frequently read together was Babar Loses His Crown (Laurent de Brunhoff).  In this particular adventure, Babar (the elephant king) and his entire family are taking a trip to Paris.  His crown goes missing but turns up at the Paris Opera.  In pursuit of the crown, the family makes its way around to various Paris landmarks, including the top of the Eiffel Tower. 

All of these children’s books related to Paris and a civilized life brought to mind another favorite—Madeline (Ludwig Bemelmans).  Those of us of a certain age may recall seeing a film version of Madeline on television.  Its earliest appearance was in 1952 as a short subject film in theaters.  It was nominated for an Academy Award (best short subject—cartoons) but lost to a Tom and Jerry cartoon (sigh). 

I’m sure none of you is surprised that some of my favorite children’s books have a French connection.   Poor Harper Marie; I’m afraid her fate is sealed.  Well, maybe not.  I don't think anyone would mistake Joseph for a Francophile, nor is he known for his manners.  (Heavier sigh)

 

 

Paris as Pilgrimage

A few months back, dance historian Jennifer Homans was making the rounds of all NPR-like media outlets promoting her impressive history of ballet, Apollo's Angels  http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/28/books/review/Bentley-t.html. For several weeks, the book was everywhere.  I caught one of the radio interviews in which I learned that the greatest and most influential ballerina of all time was Marie Taglioni, a dancer of the mid-nineteenth century whose career was primarily with the Paris Opera Ballet.  Her most important contribution was the refinement of en pointe dancing for women (men were the pioneers of the style).  Wikipedia reports that in 1842, "at the height of the cult of the ballerina, a pair of her pointe shoes were sold for two hundred rubles, reportedly to be cooked, served with a sauce and eaten by a group of balletomanes." (Ever seen the term "balletomane" before?  Me neither.)

In the interview, Homans mentioned that a pair of Taglioni's shoes are available for viewing in the library of the Paris Opera (chapter 4, footnote 5).  As soon as those words were uttered, I knew I had to see those shoes. I knew I must make a pilgrimage to the opera's library. Here are my reasons.

For a couple of years, I was a community columnist for the Fort Worth Star Telegram.  Writers from the community submitted sample columns and thirteen of us were chosen to write a column once a quarter.  My first column, and I believe one of my best, was about my ballet teacher, Lillian Zoll, who was persuaded by a group of Jewish patrons of the arts to come to the Missouri Ozarks and teach ballet in the 1950s.  

Honestly, I know very little about ballet. (I took lessons from ages three to seven.  I don't remember all that much.)  I've only been to a few performances in my entire life.  And yet I regard ballet as the quintessential art form.  If Rome is the Holy City of Roman Catholicism, then Paris is the holy city of ballet, and Marie Taglioni's point shoes are worthy objects of adoration.  I want to see them on my next trip to Paris (probably in the fall).

So I'm going to contact the Bibliotheque de l'Opera de Paris and see if the shoes are permanently on view or if I have to make a special request to see them.  I'll let you know what I find out.  Wish me "Bonne Chance!"

 

 

The Awakening

Nearly two years ago (June 3, 2009) to be exact, I wrote my first blog post and Paris Where You Are was born. Its purpose was to keep me (and others) in touch with our inner Paris.

Then a few weeks later, after a nostalgic trip to Kansas City where I did most of my undergraduate work, I sent a "friend request" to Bill Canavan. Calling him my "college sweetheart" is a polite way (Bill would call it a "vanilla" way) of describing our relationship. Also being new to Facebook, it took him more than a month to respond, but when he did . . . oo la la! So there has been a "do not disturb" sign on my hotel doorknob since . . . well, since August of 2009.

This morning, I've awakened from my languid and lazy slumber! My other beloved (the Weekend edition of the Wall Street Journal) awakened me with a review of two new books about Paris. One is about daytrips by train from Paris (Paris to the Past: Traveling through French History by Train) and the other is a collection of short stories centering on Paris Metro stations (Paris Metro Tales), which I will buy today!

As many of you know, on my first trip to Paris, I was robbed at the Arc de Triomph metro station and was only able to return to the US because a hotel clerk loaned me 100 euros. That incident (and Nora Ephron's "I Feel Bad about My Neck") inspired one of the most satisfying writing experiences I've ever had. Call me sick, the worse Paris treats me the more I love it.

We'll Always Have Paris

One of the best ways to get in touch with your inner Paris is to fall in love--or even better, to experience the particularly exquisite pain of encountering an old flame, the kind of pain that inspired the words, “We’ll always have Paris.”

 According to Psychology Today, 62% of us would consider getting back together with a former flame, and an unknown percentage of us take it a bit further and walk into every airport consciously hoping to find him (or her) standing at the baggage claim. 

 It’s an interesting fact of life to know that most people--many of them married, we must assume--are going through their lives, not just fondly remembering a former love but willing to consider getting back together with him/her. 

 Casablanca is a classic because it captures the most romantic scenario of all—two lovers’ chance encounter halfway around the world.  “Of all the gin joints in all the world, she has to walk into mine.”  The idea is that nothing can keep the lovers apart; neither time nor distance, eventually, they will find each other.  It’s a deeply held belief by the most romantic of us, that we’ll see him again . . . somewhere.  (And hopefully that somewhere is not on an early Sunday morning run to the grocery store for bread and milk.)

 Amazingly, the grocery store is precisely the setting for Dan Fogelberg’s Same Auld Lang Syne.  My sister, who is perhaps the most sentimental human being on the planet, tells me she has to turn off the radio when that song is played because it never fails to bring her to tears.  And she says it’s not that she’s remembering an old lover; it’s just that the exquisite pain of the situation so touches her.  So for some of us, even if we don’t have an old flame, the idea of someone, anyone, reuniting with an old flame is powerfully romantic and compelling.

 A less well-known film that explores this theme is Babette’s Feast, a Danish film released in 1987.  In both Babette’s Feast and Casablanca, love was sacrificed for a higher purpose; righteousness was chosen over bliss.  And naturally, the characters have doubts about their choices.  But it is Babette, the exiled head chef of Paris’ renowned Café Anglais, who has the ability to turn dinner (life?) into a kind of love affair that makes no distinction between the bodily appetite and the spiritual appetite.  Leave it to a Parisienne . . .

 So, let’s lift our glasses to Babette, and remember our old flames—not with regret for our choices—but with an appreciation for life’s most exquisite pain.

For Barbara Barney--one of Dallas' most romantic women.

Paris Je T'aime--The Wonder of Traveling Alone to Paris

If you have not seen the lovely little film, Paris Je T'aime, I highly recommend it.  Actually, it is a series of shorts about various Paris arrondissements filmed by some of the world's most talented directors. My favorite segment is the one directed by Alexander Payne (Sideways, About Schmidt).  

Narrated in rough yet charming French (with subtitles), an American letter carrier from Denver who has traveled to Paris alone for an adventure, reads aloud from an essay she has written about her trip.  As she reads in a rather deadpan voice, the camera follows her around Paris.  The final scene in a small park is absolutely exquisite.  Like the segment's main character, I traveled alone to Paris for adventure and inspiration, and I had a nearly identical feeling.  

Stop what you are doing--RIGHT NOW!  Watch the segment on YouTube.  You will not be disappointed.  

Julie and Julia--The Movie and Wine Tasting Event

By now you have seen the movie trailer for Julie and Julia  which opens with Meryl Streep channeling the spirit of Julia Child.  How else do you explain the near perfect imitation of that unmistakeable voice cackling, "I'm Julia Child.  Bon appetit?"  It is remarkable.  I can't wait to see the entire film . . . 

But for the sake of a truly Paris Where You Are experience--wait is exactly what I'm going to do.  The film opens on August 7 but I won't be seeing it until August 14; and I hope you too will wait and join me and fav foodie Nicole Bullock for a fabulous evening of French cooking (via the film) followed by witty conversation over a glass of wine at the Calais Winery in Deep Ellum. (More details at the bottom of this blog post.)

The film's screenplay by Nora Ephron (whose absolutely hilarious book I Feel Bad About My Neck figures prominently in my first trip to Paris) is based on two books--My Life in France, Julia Child's memoir about her earliest days in France, including her education at Le Cordon Bleu and the publication of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and Julie Powell's Julie and Julia, a record of the author's project to cook all 524 MtAoFC recipes in 365 days.

When I returned from my first trip to Paris, I did two things to extend the experience.  First, I rented The Da Vinci Code and savored every Paris street scene.  "I was there!" I thought thrillingly as I watched Tom Hanks in speeding cars round narrow Paris street corners.  Next, I purchased Julia Child's My Life in France. Now that I think about it, those two actions might very possibly be considered my first attempt to create a Paris Where You Are experience.  An historic moment duly noted!

Julia Child's memoir is set in post-war Paris, 1948-54.  Paris in nearly any era is remarkable, but post-war Paris is the birthplace of the term film noir.  We don't often think of Paris as a dangerous place, but French film noir sets the record straight.  Wikipedia says the most famous French film noir is Rififi about a burglary at a jewelry shop in the Rue de Rivoli. "The climax of the film is an intricate half hour heist scene depicting the crime in detail, shot in near silence, without dialogue or music.  The fictional burglary has been mimicked by criminals in actual crimes around the world."  I checked, Rififi is available on Netflix.  I'm definitely putting this classic on my "to rent" list. 

Julia's memoir is worth the purchase price for the photos, if for nothing else.  One of my favorite shots is a solitary Julia hunched over to light a cigarette against a blank alley wall (p. 171 in the paperback edition).  Publication of MtAoFC was nothing short of miraculous.  I'm in awe of Julia's ability to collaborate cross-culturally with two chefs on the project--and not just your run-of-the-mill tempermental chef, mind you--these were two French chefs.  In the abstract, who would ever think such a thing could work?

My alter ego, Fowl with Pearls, has turned in the following comments about Julie Powell's Julie and Julia.

Since Julie Powell is a Texan (from my beloved Austin, as a matter of fact), I'd love to give her a pass; but I must tell you, I cannot, in good conscious, ring the bell on her behalf. Powell is an energetic writer, but when she begins to run out of steam she is very likely to throw in the f word to keep things moving.  My husband and I once went to a comedy club on Sixth Street in Austin with my sister and niece.  The weekday comics we endured that evening were memorably lame.  As my husband put it, "Mostly sex and snot jokes." That's rather how I feel about Powell--perhaps not that strong.  She's funny but borders on being crude.  A good example is her Salon.com  posting on the death of Julia Child.  Is it really necessary to write f---ing in such a tribute?  Nevertheless, I think you will find it amusing.

Since I am over 50, I feel compelled to say that I am not universally opposed to the use of crude phrases. Properly selected and timed, they can give readers a needed jolt, but only the stupidest of readers require regular use of the cattle prod.

Thank you, Madame, for your comments.

EVENT DETAILS:  I've called the Angelika--we won't be able to know the exact time of the film until Wednesday, August 12.  If you are interested in joining us, check the blog for the details as they develop. More to follow.  Would you prefer to do wine first and then film or film and then wine?  Let me know. We can always amend our plans.  

   

Learn to Love Food Like the French

The French love their food and so do the folks at Food Roots.  Founders Mark Haley and Mary Kimbrough promote Texas wine and food experiences.  My very favorite foodie, Nicole Bullock, invited me to join her on a Saturday Food Roots bus tour of area organic farms where the temperature was Texas hot but the experience was way cool.

Our first stop was the JuHa Ranch in Barry, Texas.  Harry Butaud was an oil field worker in a former life.  Nine years ago he left the Louisiana oil fields and bought a ranch in Texas.  Harry indicated that he’d had some agricultural experience in his early life, but I got the impression his ranching expertise was almost entirely self-taught.  I bought some butterfly pork chops from one of Harry’s Berkshire hogs.  He claims the Berkshires produce a much better taste than the usual supermarket variety of pork.  You can find JuHa Ranch at the Dallas Farmers Market on Saturdays.  And BTW, despite the remarkable similarity in appearance, Harry is not related to Willie Nelson.

We had lunch at the Brown Street Café in Ennis, Texas.  The same people who do Kolache Depot on I-45 have taken their talent to downtown Ennis and opened a charming eatery.  I had the veggie sandwich on nutty brown bread with Muenster cheese, sprouts, mushrooms and creamy avocado.  Yum!  Ennis is a Czech community and the little downtown is alive and vibrant.  It is definitely worth a weekend outing.

After lunch, we headed for nearby Oak Grove Farm.  Tommy and Kristi Copeland have day jobs, but their passion is organic farming.  I bought plump Roma tomatoes and juicy blackberries.  They used to sell at the Dallas Farmers Market (and hope to again in the future) but for now, most of their produce is going to Dallas chefs.

Joining us the Copelands’ farm was Benjamin Calais who is—of all things--from Calais, the French city that is closest (geographically) to England.  On a clear day in Calais, you can see the white cliffs of Dover.  Benjamin worked in the IT industry and was transferred to Plano from France.  He married a Texas girl and left IT to become a wine producer and importer.  He uses authentic French techniques to produce his wines.  Benjamin’s Calais Winery is in Deep Ellum where you are welcome to BYOF (bring your own food).

Our final stop was a farm near Orvilla, Texas, where I bought a mason jar of honey for $8.50.  Cost is the ugly side of organic farming.  For 99% of the world’s population, organically produced food is just not an option.  I'm going to drop this topic like a hot potato because I can feel my frivolity fading.  World hunger is an important topic; in fact, one I’m easily drawn into—but it is not for this space.

For an evening of fun--and frivolity, of course—Nicole and I plan to attend the nationwide opening of Julie and Julia (Meryl Streep plays Julia Child) at the Angelika Theater on Friday, August 7, followed by wine at the Calais Winery.  Come on!  It’ll be fun! 

I’ll do another blog posting with more details about the movie and the exact time of the showing we are planning to attend.

Is This Blog for You?

Writing a blog requires shameless promotion—an activity that goes completely against the grain unless you are a narcissist.  Remember how badly you felt when someone called you a showoff?  So it is very hard to say to friends, family and acquaintances, “Hey, take a look at something I’ve done.” 

But it’s easier to do when we think someone might be a kindred spirit.  And like Anne of Green Gables, I’m discovering that “Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think.  It’s splendid to find out that there are so many of them in the world.”

Yesterday, I ran into a former acquaintance at Barnes and Noble (look at my checkbook, you’ll see how often I’m there--first affinity); she introduced me to her fourth child—born sometime after her 40^th birthday (as I’m quick to tell anyone, I had my first child at 44--second affinity); she was buying Rosetta Stone to prepare her and the children for an upcoming trip to Italy (loves travel to and study of European culture--third affinity).  I was pretty sure she was a kindred spirit so I took a chance and mentioned my blog.  Here’s a shoutout to Kristen Bonola and all my friends at Harvest Christian Academy.

 At the risk of sounding like Barry Manilow (If You Like Piña Coladas), this blog’s for you if you . . .

 ·      Love traveling to Paris or have traveling to Paris as one of your ambitions.

That’s pretty much everybody, isn’t it?

 ·      Have a whimsical side and enjoy sometimes being utterly frivolous.

My scooter bug logo--designed by my good friend and kindred spirit Diana McPhail, formerly of Southlake and now of Kansas City--says it all.

 

I will, on occasion, address a serious topic.  For example, I think I’m going to post an entry about The Kindly Ones, a prize-winning book written in French by an American about WWII’s eastern front, a book that is the antithesis of frivolous.  But when I do have something controversial to say, I’ve adopted Michael Sowa’s Fowl with Pearls as a warning label which I will display at the beginning of the post.

 ·      Have a creative side that is not fully developed.

My trips to Paris are a way for me to affirm that it is okay to make creativity and personal expression a priority.  As I wrote in one of my columns for the Fort Worth Star Telegram, “I have paid my dues to the good and the true, now I want to turn my attention to the beautiful.”  Frankly, I’m in a more lighthearted place now than I was then.  I have no pretentions about writing a blog that drifts upward, reaching for the sublime.  I would much rather amuse you or make you laugh. 

My first success as a writer was in Jean Routzong’s senior English class at Smith Cotton High School, Sedalia, Missouri, the spring of 1971.  I can’t remember the assigned topic, but the class was broken into groups.  The best essay from each group was peer-selected and then read aloud to the class.  My humorous essay was selected, and I vividly remember not being able to continue reading because the class was laughing so hard that I got tickled too.  It was the best feeling in the world—hands down, the best.  I can understand how comedians get addicted to the laughs.  There’s nothing better.

In a future post, I will tell you about my second most enjoyable writing experience—and it is directly related to Paris.

Main Street Boulangerie, Grapevine, Texas

Just a pleasant five-minute walk from our church is a popular Sunday morning destination for both pagans and Protestants--Main Street Bread Baking Co.  Owned by Fabien Goury and Yasmine Bohsali, this little touch of Paris in the Tarrant County suburbs is just what the doctor ordered when one needs a break from the tidal wave of chain restaurants that line the freeways.

Lots of restaurants in Texas offer outdoor seating--it was one of the things we loved when we first moved to Texas--but especially in the suburbs where we live, the outdoor views are mostly of freeways.  Main Street Bread Baking Co has that rare American experience—sidewalk café seating with plenty of pedestrian traffic for people watching. 

Located in the village of Grapevine, the bistro creates just the right café atmosphere.  The décor is a little world-weary, but isn’t that just like the French?  And there are touches of elegance like the beautifully detailed brass door handle at the entrance.  You’ll love Fabien and Yasmine’s playlist.  Here are a few of the songs on her iPod 

• ·      Amapola
• ·      Les Feuilles Mortes
• ·      Mr. Chow
• ·      Jamaica Heartbeat
• ·      Ya Mama, Tu M’As Tant Donne

And oh yes, there’s the boulangerie!  You’ll find all the traditional French breads and pastries—rounds, buns, croissants, Napoleons, and tarts—all displayed in the gleaming glass cases.  My knowledge of French pastry is fairly limited so I can't really address the quality of these pastries; but when you are in need of a taste of Paris, you will find these to be utterly transporting!

The café has free wireless access for its customers and thus is perfectly suited for a lazy morning of reading, web surfing, and people watching--and that’s the best formula for creativity I know. 

If you go, wear a flowing skirt and your sexiest shoes.  (Remind me to take my own advice.)

I can’t wait to tell you about Ralph and Reba Ferrell’s favorite French restaurant in Addison and Zellia Rendon’s guilty pleasure of listening to others practice their French at a La Madeleine in Plano. 

Please!  Write me back—tell me about places you know in Dallas--or elsewhere--that transport you to Paris.