When The Flight Isn't Enough

Onocoffee Not Permitted In Club

3B - Not Bad

Breakfast of Champions

Eating Carcarille

Jambon et Melon - delicious and a meal unto itself.

Since I wanted us to stay in Gordes in the Luberon, one place kept popping up - the Auberge d'Carcarille. A little hotel at the foot of Gordes with sculpted grounds, lovely decor and reasonable room rates. Then I started to book the room and there was a "pension" surcharge and I had no idea what was going on. A little discussion and translation by Rouki and it turns out that Carcarille adds on the price of two meals to the room.

At first, one is a bit put-off by this but the reviews about their food were all very positive. Book a room and you're guaranteed a table. Add in the potential for really well-prepared food and suddenly it all becomes very promising.


A perfectly selected viognier.

Evidently, you can choose two of three meals in the day. The kitchen prepares breakfast, lunch and dinner and you can select any two services to eat. The breakfast is a nicely prepared buffet of typical French petit dejeuner, lunch is a la carte (I think) but the meal to have is dinner where the kitchen is working at full blast, the dining room is packed and the meals are really good.

The conundrum is that you've now paid for the meals and if you want to journey across Provence to, let's say, Nice or the Italian border, then you probably will not make it back for dinner and you'll lose out on a nice meal that you've already paid for. Better to stay in the Luberon, lounge around the valley, do nothing much in particular and enjoy your meals at Carcarille.


A selection of breads.

Everything is fresh and everything is delicious. From the pan halibut to the tapenade to the wellington. All of it is good and some of it is downright plentiful. The Jambon et Melon the first night was so large, it could have been our entire meal and we would have been satisfied.

Each night we relied on the recommendations of the staff for our wine choices. The wines range from 18€ Ventoux right up to 135€ Chateauneuf du Pape. Our choices were much more modest than the Chateauneuf but all were right on the money. If only I could source these wines at home.


Delicately pan crisped fish.

Three nights in the Luberon and three nights of good eating. By Thursday, we were so used to good meals that we beelined it back from Marseille to make it in time for our outside table for two. I mean really, we've already paid for it, the food is excellent, the table is tough to get in Gordes and they never let us down.


My cheeses.


Ana's selection of cheeses.


The cheese cart - always overflowing.


Desert.


DINNER, DAY TWO



Another excellent recommendation.


Fried lamb brains.


Getting intimate with brains.


Beef Wellington.


More cheeses


Little fried profiteroles.


Ana's cherry tart.


DINNER, DAY THREE




Olive Tapenade


Another excellent recommendation.


Pork Terrine


Roasted duck.


Ana's cheeses.


More cheeses.


Lemon dessert shake with limoncello side.

Chez Maman

The perfunctory "Raviolis Maison" for six euros.

Across the street from my hotel in Paris is a little Korean restaurant known as Chez Maman. For years I've been curious about eating there - especially those times when I have a hankering for rice. The conundrum? Did I travel across a vast ocean to the land of grande cuisine to eat Korean food? It always sounded ridiculous to me - even though I felt the call of rice pulling me towards its doors.

After a day of Ana dragging me across the city, down Champs Elsyees, to the Royal Palace, through Tuileries, to the Louvre and then up to Opera, I was tired. Really tired. However, I wanted to check out a chicken place across town and next door to Taillevent.

But I was tired. And hungry. Ana was just tired. And while I wanted to try the rotisserie chicken, I didn't want to journey across town - not when the line at Opera ran straight to our station at La Tour Maubourg.


Bibimbap au Boeuf for 12.50 Euros.

Instead, we journeyed back to the hotel with the idea of freshening up before heading back out in search of a meal. As we walked up the street with Chez Maman in view, I decided that today would be the day. Grande Cuisine be damned. Bibimbap was on the mind and would fit the bill.

Chez Maman is a small restaurant with tired pale yellow walls and little in the way of decoration. It's a simple place who's specialty is bibimbap - that Korean dish of rice, beef, veggies in a hot pot topped with a fried egg and mixed with hot paste to taste. I ordered one and a side of house ravioli, otherwise known in American lexicon as "pot stickers."

God knows how these dumplings also known as Gyoza in Japan got to be known as "pot stickers" in America but these were simply perfunctory. Nothing special, just a mix of pork and beans in a wrapper steamed. Add a little soy sauce and some chili oil and it's good enough.


Mixed up and ready to go.

While the dumplings were merely okay, the bibimbap was actually damn good. Sizzling bowl filled with steamed rice, fresh vegetables, perfectly marinated and cooked beef strips and a brilliantly yellow fried egg. It was darn near bibimbap perfection. In Paris.

Mix in the sauce and it was darn near one of the best meals I've had in the city.


Chez Maman
18 rue Amelie
75007 Paris
01 45 41 45 87

Tacos Campechanes y Flautas de Pollo

The Final Hour

The Final Day Begins

All That Is Artscape

Joie D'Vivre

Ah, the joys of travel.

It seems that this trip is filled with problems with cab drivers on my exit from the capitals. In London, I had that altercation with the cabbie who was just plain rude. This time, the taxi driver was 20 minutes late and already had 18,60 Euros on the meter.

From my little hotel in the 7th to Rue de Carnot by the Arc de Triomphe, it should be about ten euros. Eighteen sixty - where did this guy start the meter? Banlieue 13???

After some heated debate where the taxi driver offered to take me back to the hotel, I told him to either take me to my destination or to the police station where we would sort all of this out. He decided to go for the destination.

Arriving at Carnot and the Air France Les Cars stop, the meter read 27,20. I gave the guy ten euros and told him that was all he was getting. I also had him drop me off in front of a team of police officers hanging out on the side of the road for good measure.

With bags in hand, I truck over to the Les Cars stop where the bus to Orly is leaving. I tell the attendant "Charles du Gaulle" and he waves me off to wait for the bus to CDG. The Air France bus runs every 20-30 minutes and costs 15 Euros one way. I wait about 30 minutes as other people come and go when the attendant comes back to tell me that the CDG bus drivers are on strike and that I should take a taxi or the RER train.

I've made the journey from the 7th to CDG before and it takes about an hour. I started the journey at 9am and now it's 10:30am. Luckily, there's an RER stop across the street but it's the A train and I need to transfer at Chatelet for the B line to CDG.

Since CDG is outside the city, the usual Metro/RER tickets will not work and I have to fall in the long line to purchase a ticket to CDG. Another ten minutes burned.

From Chatelet, it's about a 40 minute train ride to the CDG Terminal 3 station. Then a transfer to the CDGVAL train to Terminal 1 and I've missed the check-in time for my flight back to Dulles. In typical Gallic fashion, no one is really interested in helping me straightaway. Bonne Chance, they'll get to me eventually.

The key in France is to be politely persistent. Stay the course and they'll get to you. Feign ignorance. Defer to their greatness (especially with government bureaucrats, public workers or SNCF personnel), but let them know you're going to be pleasantly persistent and they'll take care of your needs just to make you go away.

So it's another day and night in the outskirts of Paris. I've opted for an airport area hotel in Roissy to avoid any more travel problems in the morning. The question now is: do I stay at the hotel and chill or head to Le Severo in Paris?

Renvoi

I like living in Baltimore. Of course, one of the biggest reasons why I like Baltimore is that I get to leave from time to time. Problem is that it seems that I rarely look forward to returning home. I enjoy Paris quite a bit. Give me a year to wander its streets and explore my little neighborhood in the 7th.

The few days that I've been here have not been enough. So much more to explore and experience. Down the street are numerous restaurants, cafes and shops that need a thorough investigation. I've spent more time this trip doing the "tourist thing" like visits to the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Royal Opera, Champs Elsyees and general sightseeing.

But I've also taken the time to investigate olive oils, wines, food, baguettes and rotisserie chicken.

More to come but for now, I'm not too excited to depart Paris. Perhaps the warmth of a business class seat will cushion the blow...

Tour Eiffel

The people from the first level.

Overall, I'm a terrible tourist. My hotel in Paris is about five blocks from the Eiffel Tower and I've never been.

I've seen the tower from the street. In the neighborhood, you can't miss it day or night. It towers and looms over the 7th and at night the tower is illuminated, and with the strobes looks absolutely magical. So close and yet I never took the time to visit.

It's one of those things that I would get around to doing. Someday. No worries. Maybe. How cool it would be to see Paris at night from the top of the Eiffel Tower. Someday.


Walking - what was I thinking?

Truth be told, I'm kinda happy with just seeing it from a distance. It's mysterious that way. Mythical even. If it weren't for Ana I might never have gone.

We're on a sort of quest to find a replacement folding fan for her Tia Cristy. Evidently, they have these fans at the Eiffel Tower gift shop when they were here last year. Thunderstorms had just rolled through the city and when we arrived at the Tower, the crowds were surprisingly small and the lines relatively short.

Sometimes I'm just not paying attention and I certainly wasn't when I spied the one entry portal that had no line.



La Defense in the distance.

Robert et Louise

Ana and the Cote du Boeuf pour 2 personnes.

There's one restaurant I've visited every time I've been to Paris and it's Robert et Louise. To be honest, I'm convinced that American Beef is superior to French Beef. Not that the French beef isn't good, because it is. I've just found American beef to be better in both texture and flavor, especially the pastured beef I buy locally back home.

But that doesn't stop me from continually exploring French Beef because, well, I could be wrong. And it certainly isn't that much of a hardship trying to prove myself wrong.


Angelique Bordeaux

This means we're back in the Marais visiting the hallowed Robert et Louise and their fireplace cooked Cote du Boeuf with blood sausage. Somehow, I can't get enough.

I could write more but I think the photos speak for themselves. The blood sausage is still some of the best I've had anywhere, the melon was super fresh and those golden potatoes were killer.

This is how we celebrated The Fourth of July.


Escargots les 6.


Boudin Noir


Sam and Sasha.


Rillettes d'Oie (80%)


Jambon et Melon


Preparing our salad.


Where the magic happens.


The Fat.


Salade.


Pommes Sautees.


L'addition