FOREVER 29-PART THREE

The final installment of my Joie de Vivre retrospective where I wrap things up after 29 years in business. Catch up on Part One and Part Two. Thanks for the memories!

10/2009 Kitchen Pantry

French classics in the garde-manger. 56 pages. Notable: rillettes and pâtés Hénaff, Amora mayonnaise, Bénédicta sauces, Lapalisse walnut and hazelnut oils, Carte Noire coffee, Lu Paille d’Or and Chamonix Orange, Margaux cherries in Armagnac; St Dalfour giant prunes and luscious figs; Batna, Carambar, and Hollywood gum; Rochers Suchard; Bistro de Paris red-and-black porcelain dishes; Mont St Michel eau de Cologne; Paris folding umbrella.

10/2010 Vintage

I found a spectacular collection of glass objects featuring vintage images of Paris. 56 pages. Notable: Rougié pâtés and foie gras from Québec; Eric Burr prepared lentils; L’Epicurien flower confits; Eiffel Tower salt and pepper shakers; Tintin et Milou mugs; Paris Map neckties.

10/2011 Un express, s’il vous plait

Pillivuyt Brasserie series paired with heart-shaped sugar cubes and Goulibeur shortbread featured on the Martha Stewart Show. 56 pages. Notable: Plantin’s truffle condiments; Eric Burr canned sauces; La Tisanière herbal teas; Ricoré; Abtey La Route des Liqueurs (a.k.a. The Booze Tour;) glass butter dish; five Opinel knives; Paris Puzzle Map; Clairefontaine notebooks.

10/2012 All about Lavender

Even the new French-sized reusable bags feature the star flower of Provence. 56 pages. Notable: Christian Potier sauces in a pouch; Castelas extra-virgin olive oil; La Trinitaine madeleines; Pierre cookies; French cookie cutters; Crème de caramel au beurre salé; CartExpo thermometers.

10/2013 Champagne

The French golden age of posters: Pommery Champagne on a tray along with mini pink cookies from Reims. 56 pages. Notable: mushroom-infused wines, an exclusive; Banyuls and champagne vinegar; culinary lavender; fleur de sel from Camargue; langues de chat; La Vosgienne; Bonté vintage tins of hard candies; Le Petit Prince toys and books; Bébé T-shirt and accessories.

10/2014 Brasserie Bleue

Breakfast time with large bowls and toast stamped with the Eiffel Tower. 56 pages. Notable: mackerels in white wine; Alziari olive oil; chocolate Gavottes; Sablés de l’Abbaye in commemorative D-Day tin; linen kitchen towels; Jean Vier cotton bread basket, with a cherry pit cushion to keep the bread warm; Bérard olive wood cutting board; Taylor and Ng French Creatures mugs; Laguiole steak knives, made in France, the real thing.

10-2015 Thieffry

A superb Thieffry linen tablecloth from Northern France serves as the backdrop for the new glass creamer and sugar pot. 56 pages. Notable: Rougié cassoulet; Groix et Nature seafood rillettes; Délices du Lubéron eggplant caviar, aioli, and rouille; St Michel palmiers; La Dunkerquoise waffles; Instants Parisiens chocolate Eiffel Towers; Métro oven mitts; France Map cutting board; Filt filet net bags; Caran d’Ache color pencils because it’s the adult coloring craze.

10-2016 Une Belle Salade

A Pillivuyt porcelain bowl, olive wood salad servers, and ingredients for a superlative vinaigrette. 56 pages. Notable: chicken, beef, and vegetable stock concentrates; sardine fillets; Peronneau regional honeys; St Michel grandes galettes with sea salt; palets Breton in the Citroën tin; François Doucet chocolate raisins with Cognac; Provençal tablecloths; cotton totes with vintage poster images; Savonnerie de Nyons soaps in vintage tins.

10/2017 Le Lapin Agile

The cover of the very last catalog. If you read my book, you know the story behind this reproduction of the famous “agile rabbit” of Montmartre… 56 pages. Notable: the trio of confits for cheese; Francis Miot artisan jams; Sablés in the Mont St-Michel tin; Les Liqueurs de France in dark chocolate bottles; Andrée Jardin bath accessories; Le Chatelard scented soy candles; Eiffel Tower stocking holder; real French bérets!

Vocabulary
Le garde-manger: the larder, pantry
La langue de chat: cat’s tongue (a cookie)

FOREVER 29-PART TWO

Read Forever 29-Part One for a recap of “the early years” of Joie de Vivre.

Continuing with my retrospective of Joie de Vivre, it becomes apparent that this second decade was transformative. The kitchen table operation became a “real” business. The catalog grew from 36 to 56 pages. The website was launched in 1999 and featured rich content like recipes and in-depth product stories. And, as evidenced in my yearly column, I found my voice. I even got on my soapbox once in a while, sharing my thoughts about globalization, the Euro becoming the common currency for (most of) Europe, or the importance of good food whether in school cafeterias or on the Space Station…

10/1999 At Home

Photo shoot at the house and Jeff uses our Italian armoire as a backdrop to highlight our Provençal pottery. 40 pages. Notable: Maison Pébeyre truffle products, Hénaff pâtés, Puget Olive oil, Malongo Grande Réserve coffee, Provence napkins and placemats, Pré de Provence gift soaps. I launch our website, frenchselections.com.

10/2000 Brasserie

Timeless Brasserie series by Pillivuyt is my inspiration this year. 48 pages. Notable: first catalog to offer Fabrique Délices fresh sausages and pâtés by mail. First-boil truffles by Pébeyre; Aromont sauces and stocks; Tarbais beans; Délice de l’Amandier, first gluten-free cake; Côte d’Or chocolate; pastilles Vichy, Anis de Flavigny, and Cachou Lajaunie; La Française hollowed candles; lavender linen water.

10/2001 La Rochère

Glassware by La Rochère, the oldest glassmaking factory in France (since 1475!) 52 pages. Notable: fish soup; Gold medal winner Château Virant extra-virgin olive oil, Guyaux chocolate truffles, Cémoi chocolate cerises, candied fruits.  Also, our famous raclette grill and Digouin vinegar maker. 

10/2002 L’Ardoise

Because today’s specials are still handwritten with white chalk. 52 pages. Notable: Jean de France rosette, the only saucisson that ever was legally (albeit briefly) imported from France; Connétable sardines; La Tisanière herbal teas; Francine crêpe mixes; silver dragées; Le Petit Prince dinnerware; Marius Fabre soap flakes.

10/2003 L’Epi de Provence

Beautiful soap and toiletry collection from southern France. 52 pages. Notable: Fabrique Délices pâtés en croûte; Giraudet pike quenelles in Nantua sauce (JDV was the only US retailer to offer this product;) Artzner goose confit and rillettes from Alsace; cod brandade from Nîmes; Eiffel Tower tabletop; Grand Hôtel flatware; Marius Fabre liquid soap.

10/2004 Le Pain et l’Huile d’Olive

Ready for a dip? The cover features Revol’s porcelain cruets and a bread basket set on the Bistro des Amis linen tablecloth. 52 pages. Notable: Delouis French mayonnaise; Butter galettes in a Quimper tin; Miaou mugs; first French music CDs; four French-inspired doormats, including Je Garde La Maison (dog); pétanque set (bring your own Pastis.)

10/2005 Le Cassoulet

Yes, it’s true: cassoulet is finally here again. 52 pages. Notable: Folies Fromages, great jams to pair with cheese (that’s when that whole trend started…) Not just cassoulet but also foie gras and pâtés from our Canadian cousins; truffle condiments from Les Truffières de Rabasse; Arnaud extra-virgin olive oil from Les Baux; L’Epicurien vegetable confits; chocolate coated orange and lemon zests; silver and gold-plated charms; French music CDs. 

10/2006 Paris Black-and-White

Coffee is served in the striking Paris mug, along with a dark chocolate square by Monbana. 52 pages. Notable: Pérard fish, crab, and lobster soups; Lubéron appetizer spreads; Blessac crème brûlée mix; caramels Dupont d’Isigny; France wooden cheese platter with Laguiole knife; bowls for chat and chien.

10/2007 Absinthe

La Fée Verte is legal again and very trendy; our French absinthe fountain and accessories take us back 150 years. 56 pages. Notable: Fabrique Délices saucisson sec; Connétable vintage sardines and tuna in oil; Espélette pepper; Biofournil par-baked bread; St Dalfour Gourmet-on-the-go salads; Mirabelle jam! Paris Souvenir tidbit dishes; three exclusive T-shirts, including Joie de Vivre and La Deuche.

10/2008 Relax

The Ellesca collection brings aromatherapy into our homes. 56 pages. Notable: Fabrique Délices rosette de Lyon; Blessac dehydrated sauces; Nectar de Bourgogne fruit coulis; boudoirs; fruit cake from Pont-Aven (still mourning this one;) poterie Renault; three more exclusive T-shirt designs, including Merde Happens.

Follow me to Part Three.

Vocabulary

L’ardoise (f): chalkboard
La dragée: the French version of the Jordan almond (thin sugar coating)
Le pâté en croûte: a pâté encased in pastry
La quenelle: a dumpling
Le chat: cat
Le chien: dog
La Fée Verte: the Green Fairy

FOREVER 29-PART ONE

I hope this will not come out as self-indulgence. I spent almost thirty years developing the Joie de Vivre catalog and I loved it. After I announced my retirement, so many customers told me they would be hanging on to their catalogs as souvenirs that I thought it might be fun to go down memory lane. A few (very few) of you will remember what my first catalog looked like. For everybody else, here is the complete JDV retrospective, broken down in three decades.  

10/1989 Premier Numéro

The very first catalog. Photography by Jeff Broome who will shoot the catalog until his death in 2006. 12 pages, duotone. Printed at Valley Color Graphics until they shut down twenty years later. Notable: Fallot mustards, A l’Olivier olive oil, Guinettes cherries, and Valrhona chocolate, all fantastic products that I offered in every single catalog until the last one. I also feature Delpeyrat canned goose foie gras and goose confit! Some people laughed at me when I declared I would be selling foie gras to private individuals…

04/1990 L’Artiste

The first (and last) spring/summer catalog that I published: a money pit. But the cover is still one of the very favorite pictures I took: that painter was sitting on the Pont des Arts in Paris and the Samaritaine department store (top right) was still open. I saw him at that location for a few years; then he was gone; then he was showing his works right outside the St-Germain-des-Prés church in October 2008. Notable: Suavor, a French specialty coffee when Americans were still drinking jus de chaussettes; L’Occitane soaps, waaaay before they decided to open their own retail outlets.

10/1990 Doisneau

I start working with Graphique de France (posters, cards, calendars) and use one of their images for the cover. 16 pages, duotone. Notable: Clément Faugier marrons glacés and crème de marron, La Perruche sugar cubes, dried green lentils and flageolets beans, herbs of Provence, cornichons, olives niçoises, and Apilco porcelain dishes.

10/1991 The Black One

First and only black cover. 20 pages, 4-color and duotone. In retrospect, a bit over dramatic but it seemed to be a good way to showcase André Renoux’s striking placemats and coasters. Notables: butter galettes and palets from Brittany, Delpeyrat pâtés, dried mushrooms, the famous St Dalfour trio, canned salsifis and flageolets, Emile Henry cookware –before it was on anybody’s radar– and my first curated book selection on France, including Patricia Wells’ Bistro Cooking. Oh, and Le Marché French vegetable seeds imported by Georgeanne Brennan.

10/1992 Belle Epoque

Renoux’s paintings serve as inspiration again. 20 pages, 4-color throughout. Notable: I introduce calissons, nougat, and dragées; Monin syrups, the first syrups to be introduced to the US, a couple of years ahead of the “Italian” ones. Provençal scent diffuser and lavender oil. And the Quo Vadis agendas in French!

10/1993 Cafés

Sensing the Americans’ developing interest in good coffee, I introduced Etienne Knopes collection box: excellent Belgian company. 24 pages. Notable: Bizac cassoulet, foie gras, confit, and pâtés. Escargots and lobster bisque. Savora mustard and grated celery root. First tilleul and verveine herbal teas. Sablés de l’Abbaye, Les Gavottes, stuffed prunes from Château de Born. Enamel signs and first foray into T-shirts. 

10/1994 Les Boîtes

Fabulous tins featuring vintage French posters. 28 pages. Notable: our first Saucisson Sec de Montagne and coarse salt from Guérande (nobody had even given a thought to salt before.) Capitaine Cook’s mackerels in white wine! Savora mustard! Dea harissa! Doucet pâtes de fruits, vacuum-packed chestnuts, madeleine, and charlotte pans. Le Petit Marseillais soaps. Christmas cards in French.

10/1995 Le Canard

I persuaded my friend Claude, CEO of Grimaud Farms, that I could sell fresh Muscovy duck and raw Sonoma Foie Gras to my customers. Six months later, he starts raising pintades and I sell half of his first batch. 32 pages. Notable: in addition to fresh meats, I offer our first selection of French cheeses. I’m also the first US retailer of Gabriel Perroneau’s honeys and pain d’épice. Arnaud specialty olives. Roger & Gallet eau de Cologne (still miss that one.) And I feature Linda Dannenberg’s French Country Diary for the first time! The rest is history…

10/1996 Les Fromages

Expanding on the French cheese offering and Président butter, a long time before it became (relatively) ubiquitous. 32 pages. Notable: marrons glacés from Confiserie du Périgord, madeleines, chicorée Leroux, and crème Mont Blanc. Our first exclusive T-shirts designed by my friend Nancy Liston.

10/1997 Scents of Provence

Cover is inspired by incense holders handmade in Provence. 36 pages. Obviously, some opacity issues with the paper… Notable: Amora mustard, canned coquilles St-Jacques (trust me, they were very tasty,) Mariage Frères teas, Révillon papillotes, praslines Mazet, chocolat Cluizel, and La Mère Poulard cookies. 

10/1998 Bonjour

Great porcelain mugs screened with scenes from Paris. 36 pages. Notable: Grimaud markets confit of duck legs based on my recipe. After Rougié buys Bizac, I switch to their brand for our French duck, goose, and foie gras products. Traou Mad is now my preferred choice for Brittany cookies. First fleur de sel from Guérande, biscottes, Fossier pink cookies, and palmiers. Conserverie de Haute-Provence jams, including gelée de coing and gelée de groseille.

Follow me to Part Two.

Vocabulary
Le premier numéro: first issue
Le jus de chaussette: (lit.) sock juice; weak coffee
La boîte: box, tin
Le canard: duck
La pintade: Guinea hen
Le pain d’épice: French ginger bread loaf
La gelée: jelly
Le coing: quince
La groseille: red currant
La biscotte: similar to Melba toast, often served for breakfast

LA MAISON DES CANAUX

What a difference a year makes. On May 24, 2018, I was making my final walk through the empty house I had called home for twenty-seven years. Exactly a year prior, while spending a few leisurely days in Paris, I was meandering through a fully furnished home filled with people, and life, and coffee, and food; a home open to everyone.

Entrez! C'est ouvert...

That little house at the northeastern corner of the Bassin de la Villette (19th arr.) was built in the early 1800s and served as the home for the canal manager. After being renovated in 2014, it opened to the public as a “coffice,” a convivial place where people can meet, work, or enjoy a cup of coffee. 

At work in the kitchen

While the architects respected the original structure and volumes, the interior design reflects a modern, colorful, and eclectic approach. Patrons bring their laptops and settle into their favorite spot to work for a few hours, or the whole day: a table en terrace, a comfy couch, a canopy bed, or a bathtub: no room is off-limits. Think of it as Starbucks with personality…

At work in the dining room

Let's take a look upstairs, shall we?

At work in the bedroom

At work in the bathtub. Best view of the house?

La Maison des Canaux also serves as a venue for art exhibits, conferences, concerts, yoga classes, cooking workshops, etc. 

The view from the terrace

On a beautiful day, having lunch on the front terrace offers serene views of the water and the boats: an inspiration for some, a distraction for others. It’s a peaceful spot, especially on a weekday, when the crowds are sparse; the perfect place for a break while exploring the waterways of the 19th arrondissement.

MY LAST SUPPER

For the foreseeable future, I will not have the pleasure of cooking in my own kitchen. For at least eight months, if all goes well. When you’re contemplating a house renovation in France, tiny details (like schedule) do not apply. First of all, nothing happens in August. Sometimes, the weather doesn’t cooperate and the masons are running three months late. Other times, the woodworker has a back injury and can’t work on your staircase for a while. Merde happens.

Rick and I were organizing the house before the movers came in and it dawned on me this would be the last dinner I would make in my own house, right here, in California. So many good meals started in that kitchen. So many fun parties spilled into the patio, the dining room, and the living room. They all originated between this familiar stove, fridge, sink, and countertops. Last Saturday, there was no time to celebrate “the big move” with a big memorable meal. Just the two of us, dusty and sweaty after a long day of work. It ended up being pork chops and sautéed zucchini. Simple, pleasurable but not Instagram worthy.

Sunday: don’t even ask. It was a Burger King night.

I thought we were done but Monday night snuck up on us. We worked all day with the great crew that was packing our container. Still so much to do before they would come back the next day. I was exhausted and it was late but fast food two days in a row was not an option for me. I knew there was a bag of frozen shrimp in the freezer, a box of orzo pasta in the pantry, a plastic bottle of lemon juice (bought by Rick because I always use fresh lemons,) half a head of garlic in the terra-cotta pot, and a few sorry springs of parsley from last year’s plant in the herb garden. Oh, and some Pinot Grigio from the wine-in-a-box I use for everyday cooking/drinking. With these few simple ingredients, I whipped up a quick satisfactory dish but still not deserving a mention on Facebook. It was definitely the last meal I would be cooking in the place I called home for twenty-seven years. I can’t even begin to tell you how emotional this realization was.

Instead of posting pedestrian pictures of my last two meals in my current home, I decided to share with you a photo of the “real” Last Supper as I captured it in 1998. My friend Raegan and I were in Munich for a trade show. On a whim, she thought we should ride the train to Milan instead of returning to Paris. It was a memorable trip for several reasons, one of them being that it was Fashion Week and we had no hotel reservation… Before trying to tackle that minor issue, we hailed a cab and headed out to the Basilica di Santa Maria delle Grazie where curators were in the middle of restoring the original colors of Leonardo’s famous fresco: only the right half was cleaned up to reveal the brightness of the original colors.

That Last Supper was definitely more compelling than mine.

Vocabulary
Merde: shit

THIS OLD HOUSE

After I announced my retirement from Joie de Vivre and my impending return to France after thirty-six years in California, I was deluged with phone calls, emails, and beautiful hand-written cards and letters from my customers: although sad to see me go, they wanted to wish me well on my new adventures. And many, many of them were also very curious about this old house I was returning to, the house that Rick and I (along with a team of skilled artisans) will be renovating.

I’ve known this place all my life. It’s located near Gourdon (in the Lot), about 15 miles south of Sarlat. Until moving to the US, I pretty much spent all my summer vacations there, along with most of Easter breaks, and a few very cold weeks at Christmas time (no central heating.) It’s a tiny farmhouse that my great-grandmother Françonette inherited. We don’t know exactly when the house was built but we do know that the (still existing) boxwood trees in front of the house were planted on Françonette’s wedding day, which was around 1870. So, the house is at least 150 years old. Originally, it was a typical stone house of the Quercy. Pigs and chickens were kept at ground level; an exterior stone staircase led to the upper floor where humans actually lived in one “large” room with a walk-in fireplace, and a bedroom to the side.

The house was extensively renovated in 1940. My grandparents were living in the Paris area with their four children at the time; they thought it would be prudent to update the house in case they needed to relocate to the Free Zone, below the demarcation line. At that time, Françonette was staying with one of her daughters; the house was vacant and no longer an “active” farm. The exterior staircase was demolished and the fireplace relocated downstairs. The lower level comprised the main room and a root cellar. An interior wooden staircase was built to lead to a couple of bedrooms upstairs. Running water was only brought to the house in 1966: until then, we relied on the cistern and the well. At that point, the cellar was partitioned to accommodate a tiny bathroom and toilet: we gladly abandoned the outhouse next to the rabbit hutch! An additional bedroom was eventually built on the west side, replacing the old shed. My aunt Maguy gave me a small painting of the house showing the way it looked in the 1960s.

From right to left: the linden tree planted in 1965; the main house; the late 1960s addition (downstairs bedroom); the shed; the cistern; and the 150-year-old boxwood trees.

In preparation for the remodel, we emptied out the house during our February trip. It’s tiny, only 750 square feet, but it has good bones: stone walls that are 18 inches wide and solid oak trusses supporting the roof. Pretty much everything else has to be redone. When the project is completed, we’ll end up with a 1250 sqft, 2 bedroom/2 bath house with a kitchen extension and an office: two essential rooms for me because I just can’t cook meals in the fireplace like my grandmother used to and, duh, I’m only semi-retiring!  That’s going to keep us busy for a while; I’m pretty sure the project will generate a few blog posts.  Stay tuned for updates.

FRAISES AU VIN

Living in California has its advantages: one of them is the abundance of fresh produce, which makes it a paradise for cooks. I got an early education in that field, pun intended: my paternal grandparents returned to a farming/gardening life when they retired and I spent countless vacation hours helping them in the vineyard, harvesting asparagus, shelling fresh peas, trimming green beans for canning, gathering potatoes for winter storage, and picking strawberries to be served that very evening. For me, there were only two kinds of strawberries: the plump round ones that I picked in grandpa’s garden and the tiny elongated kind that grew wild in his woods.

The Gariguette is the most popular strawberry variety in France

The latter (fraises des bois) I would just enjoy on the spot while hunting for mushrooms as it took a lot of time and effort to gather enough for a family dessert! The strawberries grown in the garden received more consideration: they could turn color and ripen quite quickly and had to be closely monitored. I always wanted to harvest them at their finest, late in the afternoon, after they had soaked in the warmth of the sun. I would rinse them in the cool water from the well, hull them, then set them up in grandma’s white saladier until it was time for dessert. We ate on their own, perhaps with a bit of sugar or paired with the fromage blanc made by Monsieur Adam, our neighbor. Grandpa being diabetic, sugar was off limits for him; he usually enjoyed his berries in a bowl, doused with the red wine he made from his own grapes.

Mara des Bois, a cultivated strawberry with a flavor reminiscent of wild strawberries

I didn’t pay that much attention to which variety of berries he grew back then: why would I bother when they always tasted so delicious, freshly plucked from the garden and consumed within hours? As I got involved in the specialty food business, it became my duty (et mon plaisir) to quiz my suppliers about what kind of strawberries they used in the various jams, preserves or conserves I sold.

Cigaline is a variety derived from the Gariguette but with a touch less acidity than its "sister"

Since I usually fly back to France every May, I’ve had many opportunities to linger at the outdoor markets and study what is displayed on the stalls. There are more than one hundred different varieties of strawberries but three of them are top-ranked in France. The Gariguette is a real star: medium-sized and elongated, with an orangey red color, it’s an early variety that’s sweet with a touch of acidity. The Mara des Bois is also much sought after: it’s fleshy and juicy, exhibiting a brilliant deep red color and a round shape, with the sweet and musky aroma of wild strawberries. The Charlotte is a favorite among children: bright red color, heart-shaped, firm, sweet, and juicy, it makes beautiful tarts and jams. Once in a while, you might even find white strawberries like the Anablanca, one of the oldest varieties (white strawberries were brought back to France from Chile in 1728 by explorer Jacques-Cartier.) Surprisingly, their taste is reminiscent of… pineapple!

When you have access to freshly picked fruits, simple preparations are best to showcase their flavor. There is a produce stand on my way home from work and that Chinese family has been growing strawberries for decades: the strawberry beds sit right behind the tiny shed and the fruits are picked daily. As soon as the harvest starts, I stop by and pick up a pint or two: they are so perfectly ripe, they don’t keep more than a day or two. Most of the time, we just eat them out of hand. Sometimes, I add some cream. And sometimes, I tip my hat to Grandpa and serve them with red wine.

Fraises au Vin
Strawberries in Wine
Serves 6

1 1/4 lb strawberries
2 cups red wine
3/4 cup sugar
1 stick cinnamon
1 star anise
1 Tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tsp crushed pink peppercorns
Mint or basil leaves for garnish

Wash, dry, and hull the strawberries; halve or quarter them depending on size and reserve in a large bowl. Pour the wine into a saucepan; add sugar, cinnamon, star anise, and balsamic vinegar. Bring to a boil then simmer 5 minutes. Remove cinnamon and star anise; pour over the strawberries. Let cool then refrigerate until ready to serve. Divide into 6 individual bowls and sprinkle with crushed pink peppercorns.

Sylvaine’s tips: use a light red wine (Beaujolais, Gamay, or Cabernet Franc, for instance.) Pour the wine mixture on the strawberries while it's hot: the fruit will be slightly poached. If pink peppercorns are not available, you can replace them with freshly ground black pepper. 

Vocabulary
La fraise des bois: wild strawberry
Le saladier: salad bowl
Le fromage blanc: French “cottage” cheese
Mon plaisir: my pleasure

LES FLEURS

I hooked up in Paris with my friend Raegan last September and she was interested in visiting some the places where I grew up. We took the RER to the suburbs east of Paris and got off at Noisy-Champs. We walked to my parents’ former house –where I lived until I moved to the US– and then to the elementary school I attended when I was 10 years old. We stood at the gate just before noon, where many mothers were waiting to pick up their children. I usually walked home on my own for lunch but Mom would often come to get me at the end of the school day, with a pain au chocolat, un pain aux raisins, or a chausson aux pommes for my goûter. 

Elisabeth, among her flowers

On a whim, I decided to head out to Parmi les Fleurs, a floral shop located a mere 100 meters from the school. It also happens to stand right across from the cemetery, which is always a desirable spot when you are in the floral business. None of my family members are buried there but the florist, Elisabeth, designed my wedding bouquet in 1982. She was one of my sister’s childhood friends. I hadn’t seen her since… well, my wedding. I instantly recognized her: the blond hair gave her away. It was fun to reconnect after all these years. Her shop looked beautiful; it was inviting and uncluttered, a suggestion of how the right floral arrangement can transform your space.

Rue de Babylone, 7th arr.

I don’t routinely draw comparisons between the French and American cultures but I do believe that we –the French– have a special relationship with flowers. Take weddings as an example. In the US, the bride pretty much makes all decisions on flowers (the bouquet and boutonnieres, of course, but also the arrangements that will be displayed at the church, reception, etc.) There is a lot of emphasis on theme, color, and coordination: there is a master plan and interference is not welcomed. When you live in France, you wouldn’t dream of attending a wedding and not sending your own flowers. Same thing for a funeral: it is de rigueur to send flowers, whether you’re able to attend or not. 

Rue Beaubourg, 3rd arr.

And there is Valentine’s, and Mother’s Day, and anniversaries. Even with no special occasion in sight, the French purchase a lot of flowers for their own homes; while growing up, I would often come home and notice that Mom had just bought a bouquet of mimosa, a pot of hyacinths or cyclamens, a bunch of tulips, or a bouquet composé. Just because it looked nice and smelled good.  My grandmother would cut roses, gladiolus, or dahlias from her garden and set them out in a vase on the kitchen table.

Rue Caulaincourt, 18th arr.

Floral shops in Paris are almost –almost– as ubiquitous as pharmacies and pâtisseries. Maybe that gives you an idea of where our priorities lie. When I perused a batch of photos recently, I realized that floral shops tend to be a favorite subject of mine. Maybe I should buy more fresh flowers instead of immortalizing them digitally? Anyway, I’m happy to share some of my favorite pictures of floral shops all over Paris. Sorry, no scratch and sniff yet… 

Rue Condorcet, 9th arr. Check out that mosaic!

Rue Duban in the 16h arr. in posh Passy.

Marché des Enfants Rouges, 3rd arr. with murals to match.

Boulevard Henri IV, 4th arr. Organized by color!

Avenue Ledru-Rolin, 12th arr.

Place du Dr. Félix Lobligeois, 17th arr.

Place de la Madeleine, 8th arr. There are several floral stalls on the eastern side of the church.

Rue des Martyrs, 9th arr. A flower bar...

Rue du Jourdain. 20th arr.

Vocabulary
Le pain au chocolat:  puff pastry (like a croissant) with a chocolate bar in the center
Le pain aux raisins: raisin snail-type pastry
Le chausson aux pommes: lit. a slipper with apples; half-moon shaped puff pastry filled with applesauce
Parmi les fleurs: among the flowers
De rigueur: customary
Le bouquet composé: lit. a composed bouquet of flowers, a floral arrangement
La pâtisserie: pastry shop

CURIOUS

Paris is filled with architectural wonders: Notre-Dame, the Eiffel Tower, the Grand Palais, Pei’s Pyramid… Whether medieval, contemporary or anywhere in between, the city offers enough structures to fill your time for weeks. After hitting the must-see monuments and museums, those of us who are lucky enough to visit Paris frequently become flâneurs: we just wander around, looking up and looking down, taking in the little details that regular guidebooks do not cover. We start noticing the different designs of heurtoirs and chasse-roues, niches in stone walls that used to contain oil lamps, public horloges and cadrants solaires, old wells with their iron pulleys, street signage that preceded the familiar cobalt enamel plaques, bullet marks that remind us of turbulent times, the occasional boîte à sable, perhaps even the boule aux rats at the church of Saint-Germain-l’Auxerrois.

Sundials. There are 120 of them scattered around Paris, including this monumental one on rue Perrée, 3rd arr.

Four years ago, I picked up a copy of Curiosités de Paris from éditions Parigramme. They specialize in Paris-centric titles and I own almost all of them. It quickly became my inseparable travel companion. I refer to it for explanations about odd architectural discoveries I make during my walks. Sometimes, I comb the book ahead of my trip to identify unusual sights and objects I will encounter in the areas I plan to visit. The book is organized by categories but also features an index by arrondissement that cross-references hundreds of small treasures. Here are a few samples gleaned from my various scavenger hunts.

Corner guards. Ubiquitous at the entrance of old doors, they can be made of stone or cast iron. So many different designs, all made to protect the corners of a building from the wheels and axles of carriages. Rue Notre-Dame de Nazareth, 3rd arr. To the left, a leveling marker.

Street corner religious statues. Former oratory niches with statuettes of Mary, Madonna and Child, or various saints. Maison Bleue, across Notre-Dame-des-Victoires used to sell religious objects. 2nd arr.

Guild signage. To identify trades and occupations. A cast iron Graphic Arts panel replaces a window on rue Crussol, 11th arr.

Measuring instruments. Thermometers and barometers are less common than clocks but this one in passage Bourg l’Abbé is particularly stunning. 2nd arr.

Tombs. Strolling the cemeteries yields fascinating discoveries such as the Pigeon family grave in Montparnasse. He patented a portable gasoline lamp. 14th arr.

Vestiges of gas lighting. Before la fée électricité, street lighting used gas and fire stations had their own distinctive lanterns. Rue du Château-d’Eau, 10th arr. 

Ceramics and mosaics. On floors, ceilings, storefronts, building entrances… sometimes, the whole street is a visual feast. One of eight arcades of mosaics featuring wild animals at passage Rauch, 11th arr.

Architectural oddities. A drive-through château? Why not? Château des Ternes in the 17th arr.

Clocks. Old public clocks abound but this one at the 24-hour Central Post Office on rue du Louvre sticks out on a bracket to improve visibility: essential to make sure your tax return is stamped before midnight. 1st arr.

I was thrilled when this book was translated into English last year. The publisher sent me an advanced copy and I promptly added it to our catalog selection. It is a fantastic compendium of exciting, unusual finds.

My French and American copies

But I’m still curious about something. Did you ever notice that the spines of French and American books read in opposite directions? Anybody knows why? Please, post your theories in the comments section.

Vocabulary
Le flâneur: someone who strolls aimlessly
Le heurtoir: door knocker
Le chasse-roues: corner guard
L’horloge (f): clock
Le cadrant solaire: sundial
La boîte à sable: sandbox (used in case of icy streets)
La boule aux rats: ball of rats
La fée électricité: electricity fairy

KNOCK KNOCK

About a month ago, I visited an old Modesto acquaintance. I had not been to her house for many, many years and I noticed the knocker on her front door: the classic “main baguée” which is one of the traditional designs commonly seen in France, especially in the southwest. Funny: I have one on my front door. Of course, our house was equipped with a doorbell when we bought it in 1991 but the iron hand traveled in my suitcase twenty years ago –along with a few cans of pâté– and Rick promptly mounted it onto our front door. Kids love it at Halloween: they’d much rather announce their arrival with the knocker than by using the more pedestrian doorbell.

Perhaps the most basic one of the bunch?

The first door knockers were simple iron rings attached to bronze heads: they could be grabbed and pulled to close the door. Many of them were designed with a thicker part in the middle (or a ball) so they could hit the head of a fat nail also applied to the door, and preserve the wood. This style of heurtoir was commonly found on the doors of churches during medieval times: knocking on the door would get you entrance into a lieu d’asile. In fact, merely holding the ring would grant you sanctuary, even if you were a suspected criminal or a witch (yes, time to read The Huntchback of Notre-Dame again.)

Hammer-style door knocker. Looks pretty old...

Another hammer-style door knocker

A more ornate hammer-style knocker

Early designs for private homes were simple in shape, like little hammers. During the Renaissance and later times, door knockers became more ornate, intricate, and identified as status symbols of the house occupants. Blacksmiths and engravers designed, shaped, and carved utilitarian objects that were true works of art in iron, bronze, brass or cast iron; some so coveted that they were stolen from their doors.

The buckle style door knocker became very popular in the 18th century

A contemporary example

A light, elegant version

A few hotels particuliers , especially in Le Marais, still show spectacular examples of superb craftsmanship applied to an utmost utilitarian object.

Rue Saint Denis

Rue Charlot

Lots of great doors, and knockers, on rue Charlot

During the 19th century, industrial production replaced artisanal workmanship, although it often copied earlier models. Interestingly enough, door knockers are still perceived as decorative and functional objects: in France, at least, they happily cohabit with modern doorbells. I took most of those photographs in Gourdon where I bought my door knocker at the local hardware store for a few bucks. Although “my” hand is not an antique, it keeps me in touch (pun intended) with the old country. 

A bird, a woodpecker, perhaps?

A dog, I think

A fish

The hand (right or left) can wear a ring, or not, and on different fingers. It may hold a ball, or an apple, or not. The style of the cuff varies. 

My hand, all decked out for Christmas

A good door knocker will dress up any ordinary door

Vocabulary
La main baguée: a hand wearing a ring
Le pâté: seasoned ground meat (pork, duck, rabbit…) usually sterilized and served cold accompanied by bread
Le heurtoir: door knocker
Le lieu d’asile: a place (usually a church) that offers asylum, sanctuary
L’hôtel particulier (m): private mansion