Julia & Bart Get Married

Entourage.

This is the reason I'm here on this trip. Julia Barber gets married and all is strange in the world. But it's a good thing and I'm surrounded by coffee friends from far and near, though I think I'm the one who's traveled the farthest.


Gianni.


Julia and the girls.


Sammy, Andrea, Anya and Gianni inspect the espresso from Square Mile Coffee.


The Eats: roasted chicken, salmon, saffron rice with corn on the cob and steamed baby carrots.


Square Mile Affogato.


It's not a coffee wedding without a Latte Art Throwdown.


Surprisingly, Sammy gets in on the action.


My latte art in a repurposed Starbucks cup. 16z, please...


With Andrea at the reception.

Ciao Victoria!

Sammy, Sal and Hershey Piccolo outside of Discovery Coffee.

The "Special" Bus

For all you Third Wavers out there...

Coffee Vancouver

Epic Espresso at 49th Parallel. Bright and tasty.

Did a quick tour of some of Vancouver's hippest coffee spots. By no means is this an exhaustive list of coffee joints, just the places that I visited - and I certainly was not highly motivated to visit a lot of places.

49th Parallel is arguably the leader in the Vancouver scene, with everyone else following somewhere behind. In the few short years that they've been open, they've done a remarkable job establishing themselves as a veritable force in the coffee business. From specialty, Third Wave coffee joints to my local William Sonoma - they're seemingly everywhere and more so than American darling Intelligentsia.

While I found the Epic Espresso to be pleasantly bright and acidic by itself, I did not fancy it in milk. To my tastes, it's definitely not a milk-friendly espresso. Better to leave the Epic all by itself and look elsewhere for an espresso to go into milk. Perhaps something with a but more chocolate character to round it out.


49th Piccolo Latte - too bright for milk.

Like Seattle in the United States, Vancouver has long been the leader in the Canadian coffee scene. But I'm here looking for something truly exciting in the PNW. I'm looking for innovative places doing innovative things while brewing up beautiful coffee and I'm finding much of the same. Shops here are either slaves to the Clover Automated Brewer or they're following the fashion of pour over drip bars. Nice but nothing really innovative to get excited about.

Drew had been telling me about a bakery cafe in the Fairmont Hotel that's supposedly serving great baked goods. Since my hotel is about a block away, off I went in the morning to seek out something tasty. There I found Giovanne Cafe, a hip and modern looking cafe with the requisite Fetco brewers and La Marzocco espresso machine. I asked the barista about their drip coffee and he replied with two brews: the Tiger Blend and the dark blend. I didn't ask much about the dark blend and went with the Tiger, along with some sugar and cream.


Tiger Blend drip at Giovanne Cafe. About average.

I wasn't really in the mood for espresso which is why I went for the drip. Not bad, about the same as your average coffee blend. Add some sugar and cream and it's an acceptable accompaniment to the very moist and tasty scone. Winner.

Back at the Hines Origins roastery, I had a nice cappuccino that was a bit on the fresh side (compared to our aged espresso at Spro)but a nice start to our breakfast platter provided by Tony (sorry Becca).


Giovanne White Chocolate Scone - moist and delicious.

From there, it was off to Momento - one of the newest coffee joints in the Vancouver scene and the only shop with a proper vac pot (syphon) bar. We hung out there talking coffee, coffee shop politics and recipes for a while before heading over to the new Elysian Coffee on Broadway.

Elysian is a long-standing local coffee house and this is their newest cafe. It's modern and hip-looking and they're serving coffee from 49th Parallel and Intelligentsia, though word on the street is that they're breaking away to roast their own coffee soon. The environment and presentation is clean and thoughtful though I found their "macchiatto" (quotes mine) to be rather odd.


Cappuccino at Hines.

The Elysian "macchiato" is a four ounce drink in a Gibraltar-style glass. It's easily one of the largest "macchiato" I've ever experienced. Second only in size to the Starbucks Caramel Macchiato, it's more along the lines of the 49th Piccolo Latte, Intelligentsia Gibraltar, Australian Flat White and the rest of the world's Cortado.

There's a lot more to check out in the Vancouver scene but I didn't want to make an entire day of touring cafes and drinking coffee. I had a ferry to catch! Next time we'll hit more cafes.


Breakfast by Tony.


Living the dream at Momento.


A 4oz "macchiatto"(huh?) at Elysian Coffee.

That Old Life

The Trucks Of Production.

Yesterday, as I was arriving at the Renaissance Harborside Hotel, I noticed the young lass wearing a headset and it struck me as odd. She was dressed casually in a white v-neck and dark shorts, not your typical hotel staff uniform. As I checked in with Anna, she informed me that the exercise room would not be available today but they have made arrangements with the Marriott to accommodate our workouts should we need one. I didn't want to disappoint her by telling her that my working out was unlikely.

Turns out they're using the exercise room as a set for a television series.

By the elevators I met location manager Rico Mielnicki and we got to talking about The Biz and the happenings in the Vancouver scene. It's been years since I've worked on a production but it's good to see that film people are still film people no matter where you go in the world.

This morning, on the way to find some bakery at the Fairmont Hotel, I ran into Rico outside by the production vehicles. Again we chatted about the long hours, the merciless producers, the long hours, the short turnarounds and the general cosy life of a film production Teamster driver.

Sometimes I miss the Hurry Up And Wait world of film production, but I'm not yearning to go back.

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.