Today in the Kitchen - Adventures in St. Émilion & Pot Roast

Less than four weeks 'til the SALE and this week is crammed.  I miss all of you so much and I am so sorry I have not been commenting on your blogs.  I am doing my best to read them but forgive me if I am silent... this sale is going to be so wonderful... I look forward to meeting many of you.

'Hope this post brings a bit of entertainment... don't think I'll be back 'til later this week!

This is my favorite bottle of wine.  OK, at least my most favorite that I can get my hands on...more on that later.  Weekends have been rough for us lately, Joel has his fairly new (Thanks be to God) job and he has a quarterly shift bid...this quarter we were blessed with two days back to back off; Thursday and Friday... and a little shock come Saturday morning.  This Saturday he was up at 3:30 a.m. and not home 'til 4:30 and I knew nothing would make him happier than to stumble home to a Pot Roast... his favorite.  All the cheap wine in the house was gone and one of our 4 coveted bottles in the basement was calling my name.  What better reason to crack open a very special  1997 St. Émilion Chateau St. George than for just about no reason at all.  Thirteen years is a long time to store a bottle in a humid basement and I was praying it had not turned to vinegar... more on that later.

St. Émilion is one of the 4 or 5 places I have traveled to in France and though I am no expert on the Bordeaux region I would HIGHLY recommend it.  We traveled by way of train from Paris to Bordeaux and rented to car to get there.  (Be sure you can 1.  Read a map without threatening your marriage with divorce or murder 2. Drive a stick and 3. Handle a round about without having a panic attack - thankfully we each can do all three - those are just a few of the reasons I think we would kick bootie on the Amazing Race!!!)  I digress...

St. Émilion is an ancient map dot of a town and had long been a favorite region for me when it came to picking a bottle of wine.  Seriously, you can walk into about any wine store (notice I did not say liquor store) and find a St. Émilion and it's probably gonna please.  Bring it to a dinner party hosted by French friends and they are sure to compliment you.  Prices typically start around $18.00...

I am not one to show up in Paris ("like" all three times I've been there) without a reservation but I am fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants enough that I will venture out of the city with nary a clue of where to stay or if there will be a car to rent for that matter (we got the LAST car between all the rental agencies near the train station!!!) so when we finally arrived we were on a mission to find charming and affordable accommodations.  We were only staying one night and the next day it was on to Perigeuex to stay with some Stateside friends who have a house there - lucky us, our trips coincided.  

Not all French hotels are what we girly Francophiles dream of.  Many are sterile and icky.  But we hit the jackpot.  We gave the man at the desk our budget (100 Euro) and he apologetically took us to the top floor of his hotel to a small room that was once the attic.  He thought we would hate it.  Oh, how he was wrong!   After my 17 square meter, indoor/ outdoor futon decorated Paris apartment this room was Versailles!!!  Decked in orange toile with Louis 16th repro furniture and a giant bathroom.  I was thrilled.  So thrilled in fact that of the 30 rolls of film I went thru during those 6 weeks I forgot to take a photograph.  Hopefully my memory serves me well of it's description.

All I wanted to do was get back in our little car and go exploring!!!  The vines were bare but I was anxious to see more.  There is something surreal about seeing Chateau after Chateau... vineyard after vineyard.  

Shortly after leaving "town" I pointed to Joel, "Look over there!  Do you see those spires! I SWEAR I know that Chateau!  Drive in that direction!!!"

And lo-and-behold I was right.  I did know those spires... and we found ourselves right in front of Chateau St. George - the birthplace of my favorite bottle of wine.  You could probably hear my screams back in the States!

Back then (6 years ago - read before children!!! Ha!) Joel was a bit more reserved than he is today and I had to BEG him to drive down the long drive and take a peek.  It's a business for Pete's sake - surely we aren't the only people that have ever wandered about!  He did, though not as thoroughly as I would have liked, but we did find these stacks of bottles ready to leave and be labeled... the sunset reflecting off of them...

I'll take two please...

Then we snapped a picture of the gates... If only they had been open I swear I would have knocked on the door... 

you KNOW I would have...

Alas, no one was about and our stomachs were pleading with us to find a good dinner; little did I know it would be the best meal I have ever had... ever...

St.  Émilion is small but full of tiny streets and hilly alleys...  

We stopped into a couple places that were full and could not take us.  It was like "no room in the inn" and I was wondering if we would ever eat - never mind that we had been out driving around and had not had ONE DROP OF WINE YET!!!  The next maitre'd we spoke to apologized but he only had one small table... get this... 

IN THE WINE CELLAR!!!!  

He felt so bad but it was all he could do for us.

He led us thru the restaurant and into a little room with a pea gravel floor!!!!  

Really ladies... a pea gravel floor!!! 

 Trés charment!  

He lit our candle for us, our waiter took our order and graciously helped us choose a bottle of wine...   THE BEST BOTTLE OF WINE I HAD EVER HAD OR HAVE EVER HAD!  Seriously,  it was like liquid velvet... no sharp Cali Cab or chintzy cheap Australian Shiraz at your in-laws Christmas party here... this was the stuff of dreams... I had fois gras (a favorite of mine, Peta be damned) fried on a salad... and that wine... oh, that wine... 

The next day we drove until we found the name on a sign at small estate just outside the teeny hamlet of St. George.

I will forever remember that bottle of wine.  The closest thing I have found here is a Moulin St. George/ St. Émilion which I promptly bought.  It's down in the basement with the remaining two Chateau St. Georges...

So, how was our wine Saturday night you ask?  Was it skunky?  Had it turned to vinegar?  

No... thankfully it was perfect.  We errored in not opening it before dinner so by the end of the meal it was tasting really good... it's been so long since I had had anything not off the Trader Joe's shelf...

And the Pot Roast?  Well, it too was perfection and Hubby was Happy!  So now that you now what kind of wine to look for; here is a no fail Pot Roast recipe and a leftover recipe that will keep you and your family eating for days...

To be honest - I don't even know what kind of meat I get.  All I know is it's hormone & antibiotic free and free range from Trader Joe's... I want to say "round tip" but I am the worst with meat cuts... it looks like a GIANT steak...

I throw that baby in the crock pot with a ton of cut red potatoes, one or two onions quartered, a big bag of baby carrots (if it's not garden season) and a head of garlic.  I am embarrassed to say that I do cheat and use a packet of gravy mix too.  Cook for about 8 hours... by this time your garlic has practically melted and your meat will fall apart.  I scoup out some of the juice and make a gravy with flour to go with any of the sauces left in the crock pot - after all, you HAVE to have something to dip your bread into.  And speaking of bread, we had a baguette Saturday night.  I did not have time to make my new whole wheat that we are so into these days but the roast is really good with a salad and bread... the only thing we were missing was a gorgeous wedge of stinky blue for desert.   

Sigh.

And now for the leftovers...

For a delicious soup add a large can (read Costco size) of tomato sauce to the leftover pile of meat and potatoes, add some corn, green beans, Lima beans, maybe some extra carrots and a ton of barley and cook till the barley is soft.  (GF-eers you can leave out the barley no problem).  This soup is AWESOME and freezes very well.  We make many quarts of it at a time.

Both the pot roast method and vegetable soup recipe are family fav's from Gramma.  I don't think she has ever had a St.Émilion before though...

We may have to remedy that when she gets back from Florida.

Oh, I forgot the kicker.

When we did meet up with our friends in Perigeuex and told them of our adventure they said we could have knocked at the Chateau and we would probably have been invited in for dinner.  They did.

Bon Appetit.

Au Revoir Madame...

Alors, elle est vendu.

Alas, she sold.

I had such a lovely time creating this piece (of course I played the Marie Antoinette soundtrack while I painted for inspiration!). I am absolutely thrilled and anxious to start on the next on one(s). I have about 10 ideas so the canvases will keep coming but tomorrow I will wrap "Vive la Reine" and bid adieu to her. Don't worry, she is going to a good home. The home of a fellow blogger and Marie Antoinette admirer.

Au Revoir Madame.

A Franco-American Breakfast

The Man of the Place has been working again and I find myself truly appreciating Saturdays. This morning, though much, much too early we awoke to find the earth covered in gray clouds and much needed rain.

Surely now the pole beans will produce!

But this morning my mind was not in my Potager. It was in Paris.

How I love Paris.

How I miss Paris.

Five years and counting but the smell of diesel still makes me swoon and a dreary rainy morning puts me right on the Boulevard Montparnasse, watching the resident cat and laying aside my ridiculous desire to charm that one cranky waiter who works under the awning at...

Le Select.

I love Paris when it drizzles.

Le Select is an old Hemingway haunt but never mind that. It's an old Parisienne Farmgirl haunt and on rainy, drizzly mornings it haunts both myself and The Man of the Place. We can almost feel the buttery croissants between our fingers and taste the best chocolat chaud on that side of town. None of those little wussy cups that leave us fat and sassy Americans longing for more. At Le Select you can order a private little pitcher of hot chocolate to sugar yourself silly. Avec Chantilly, mais bien sur.

This morning a little memory making was in order - Stateside. And I thought a Franco-American breakfast would do the trick. So, with every window in the house open to hear and enjoy the drizzly Parisian rain we enjoyed scrambled eggs and bacon (for the American in us) and sliced and toasted (longways of course) baguette with freshly homemade Lemon Curd and Confiture de Myrtilles. Blueberry Jam.

On Pandora we enjoyed Claire de Lune (Parisian type jazz not Debussy) and with a piping hot French Press the stage was set.

When visiting Paris many café's will advertise "American Breakfasts" but promise me you will never order one. Instead, head on over to Le Select and order a typical French breakfast of fresh croissant, baguettes, jams and café au lait or chocolate chaud. Bring your notepad and try to have a Hemingway moment or sit and enjoy some of the best people watching in town.

Pardon the photo quality - all my Paris photos are prints - pre-digital and I just can't bare to get out the scanner so I just take photographs of my photographs. Nerdy, I know.

Everybody Can Can!!!

   

  
    

Do you have a room in your house that when you're not to busy thinking about politics, what's for dinner or your bank account that you would like to simply burn to the ground and start over???  

I've got a few rooms like that but sadly it's hard to shake thoughts of the bank account especially when I get a little decorating bug. Decorating is not near as fun these days when I can't even go hit my favorite thrift shops-- so my one and only choice is to raid the stack of paint cans in my garage hoping they are not frozen solid and to steal items from a room that hopefully won't miss them very much.

I found a can of red paint and then ran upstairs to my catch-all, hasn't-been-professionally-- painted-yet guest bedroom. This is the room where I "stored" all my red stuff. My old townhouse was red, red, red as I was over the top and had decorated the living room based on the movie Amélie and Moulin Rouge. That was fine for a townhouse but a little sophomoric for an old farmhouse, never mind that I am not 25 anymore.

My house is mostly blues these days. French blue, Robin's Egg, Teal, Boudoir, etc. But I had been missing my red so I decided to go back the Moulin Rouge in my little powder room. I figured it's cut off from the rest of the house and so I decided to let go of my "everything needs to flow" obsession and just have a little fun.  What's more fun than kicking up your heals and letting your petticoats show???

I attacked the trim with bright red, knocked it down with a little stain...I noticed some paint had dripped on the horrible shiny peach tile and I thought, "what the heck" and began to paint the floor!!!

I dug out my old shower curtain that I had sewn myself, cut it up and hot glued it to the sink.

Then I raided the horrible red guest bedroom for some goodies and stole a few other items from around the house, I dug out all my old France maps, ticket stubs and tore pages from a 1950's French textbook and wallpapered them to the ceiling, I got out my old "Moulin Rouge" movie poster from the closet at the end of the hall, hung a chandelier, displayed a few Moulin Rouge brochures from the 60's and some torn pages from old french books...et voila!!!

My sister says every time she pees she wants to stand up and do the Can - Can! I asked her to at least finish peeing. It probably helps inspire her that I hung one of my crinolines from the window as a "curtain." I don't know what I'll do the next time I want to wear it?

So, I've got a "new" powder room. It's not my dream style (swedish country), it's not really even in that good of taste (being that the Moulin Rouge is of course a cabaret!) But it cost me $8 for a second can of paint and it sure is fun. My guest bedroom is naked but my prayer is that it's a nursery later this year anyways!

Everybody Can! Can!

On a little note:  It's the details around my house that I for the most part do for my own pleasure.  An example is that photo of the wire Eiffel Tower vase way up at the top of this post, it's filled with stones from under the Eiffel Tower, whenever I would  walk under it I would squat down and scoop some up and tuck them in my pocket.  How fun to remember my trips to Paris every time I see that little vase full of pebbles.

   

    


        

Objetctif France

Lately my mind has been pondering France.  Wow, you say, what's new. 

 I'm usually not sitting around dreaming of people watching at a café all afternoon.  I am usually trying to figure out why I would love a culture so much when so much of what it believes is contrary to my own belief.  I often think of the small group of Evangelical Christians in France (about 15,000), I think about the HillSongs church in Paris wondering how it's doing, about the Church in Nice that I heard about on Moody last year.   I think about being a Missionary to France - I know that sounds weird but I have a hard time believing this love for France is something that I came up with on my own.  Surely God has his hand in it somewhere.  I think about how inept I would be at sharing Jesus with a culture so hardened to the word of God after years of "Enlightened Philosophy", let alone that once I am out of the present tense or "passé composé" I have to think three minutes before composing a sensical thought...

Anyways, all that to say that the spiritual state of France has been weighing on my heart in the last few days.  This morning I found some time for the internet (obvious with the post below) and I decided to click on  some of my own links way down on my sidebar.  "Top Chretian" being one of them.  Et Voila!  I found a movement gearing up right now in France and from what I could understand it is a prayer movement praying for the people and churches of France, for the identity and culture of France but most of all for repentance and revival in the country.  WOW.  I'm in.  They are asking for those around the world to intercede with them, there is even a prayer book and CD.  

I am so glad I found this, here is the link (au francais) so, if you call Jesus your Lord and if you call yourself a Fancophile will you join with me in praying for this beautiful, fascinating country and it's people?

Merci Encore Lisette!

Last week Lisette helped me by correcting some of my French Errors. She has come to the rescue again by introducing me to this darling little girl. Honestly, I could listen to someone read from a French phone book the sound of the language is so pleasing to me but to hear a child speak it is beyond beautiful. My little Aidan is just starting to put sentences together but the scary thing is with the speed that children learn in just a matter of months he will probably be as "fluent" as I am. In other words I need to study and practice. Something that I NEVER do. If he started in with a story like this one I would grab the video camera too! Another great thing about "baby French" - I can understand it without reading les sous titres! Enjoy!


Once upon a time... from Capucha on Vimeo.

Merci Liscette!

Merci Lisette!  J'ai changé les mots.

 (I'll write in English for most of my readers).  

I REALLY appreciate that you corrected my errors!  I rarely write in French, speaking is difficult enough!  Would you believe at first I wrote "Changeons le Sujet"? But then I looked at "sujet" and thought, "Well, that looks really strange."  Then, impulsively I added the "b"...and the "le visite" error - well, I should have known better given the "e" at the end of "visite."

Alors, teaching yourself a language is so difficult when you have no one to speak and write with.  My dear friend Céline used to live nearby but has since moved back to the Versailles area - she is always very good to correct me.  I dream of fluency and people like you will make that a possibility for me someday.

Merci a vous. 

Changeons le Sujet

Hopefully that is correct French for, "Let's Change the Subject"

Alors, A breath of Paris preserves the soul. 

While a fanciful statement, I need a B.O. break. How about a look at me experiementing with my new camera lens...et tous mes Tour Eiffels.

A vintage watercolor given to me by my beloved cousine Jennifer.  I can't imagine how she might have liked to keep if for herself.

An old earring from High School attached to my chandelier.

2000 Trip - yes, me with Madonna blonde/red hair.  Yikes.

2000 Trip.  Cluching Joel in sheer excitement.  My first moments in her presence.

My desktop collection in black and white.

Another grouping.  This one I got at "Epcot" in their mini "France"

My desktop collection in color.  Oui, some of those are antique pencil sharpeners.

Another 100% Authentic Labor Inducer

Bien - I know that I have posted 3 posts in about as many minutes but try to keep up OK? I need to laugh and I can't imagine the "dismay" when you click on "Parisienne Farmgirl" day after day only to see the same old tired posts...

Foux Ne Flippen Hilarious!

This might just put me into labor if I watch it one more time...be sure to turn down "Santa Baby" over on the right!

L'enfant Roi

The French have an expression, "l'enfant roi" - translated: "The Child King." It's a term they use for American children in particular - it's meaning is pretty self explanatory.

I have my own expression, "little no necked monsters" its from a favorite film of mine, Tennessee Williams' "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" - it's meaning is pretty self explanatory.

Even before I had heard either of these expressions I vowed that they or anything of the like would never...NEVER be applied to my offspring. Such a commitment is one of perseverance and sheer determination in this egalitarian, entitlement syndrome driven culture that we live in.

Babycakes in not of course "l'enfant parfait" (the perfect child) but at 22 months he can sit quietly on our laps for most of the church service, eat at restaurant better than any 5 year old I have ever seen and in the last almost two years I have not moved a plant, a statue, antique book or picture frame. My house is NOT babyproofed. After just a few months training there is no gate at the bottom our our stairs. Babes does not even venture forth onto the apron of the driveway and when he points to the street he says "non, non!"

Not so much for Sophia.

Aidan and I took a mom and tot french lesson this morning. And sadly so did Sophia and her worn out, frustrated, wuss of a mother. Yes, I called a fellow mom a "wuss". You would too.

Thankfully this class was a complimentary "see how you like it" 60 minute session. Everything was cool at first, I had an unfair advantage because I knew what the teacher was saying and so did Aidan. But he still had his moments of frustration as an object was introduced and played with only to be put back into the teachers bag of tricks moments later.
Precious Sohpia on the other hand had about 45 minutes of frustration. She screamed for 45 minutes out of 60. Yes, screamed. That nasty, nasty tantrum scream that when not handled properly I am sure has led many mothers to angry discipline that they never thought themselves capable of. How her Mommy isn't roaring drunk by eight pm is beyond me.

Poor Aidan kept looking at little "precious" Sophia like, "What is your problem?" He had never seen anything like it.

Poor Sophia's mom would ruin the flow of "french only" by exclaiming in frustration, "Mommy is trying to learn something here Sophia!"
Yeah, that will work.

Perhaps Mommy should have opened a child rearing book. "Dare to Discipline" for example?

At one point the little angel sat up against the wall and started bashing her head backwards into it over and over again- the school director came bounding towards the window above thinking something was really wrong inside our little classroom.

IT WAS.

Two times Mommy dearest mentioned how good Aidan was being! And why couldn't little Sophia be good like little Aidan. -
Hello? Awkward!
I wanted to tell her because he knows he would have been hauled out of this room a long time ago for a little swat sur ses feses!!!! (On his bum!)

Three times Mommy asked the teacher if she should leave. I kept thinking, are you kidding me? The other mom (and only other mom present besides myself, this was a really small class) had TWO children in there today, both speaking darling french back to the teacher, a feat which, with two children enrolled since January she has paid well over $1,000 for. Hmmmm, should you leave so we can actually hear the teacher above your screaming no necked little monster???

Vous pouvez dire, "Oui?"

It was incredible. The polite french teacher said nothing and after the class actually encouraged her to come back - please God no! That's the French for you. People think they are rude - but they are polite in most cases beyond our wildest imagination.

I can't say that if I shell out some of my garage sale money for Aidan and I to take this class I will be able to "ferme ma bouche" (shut my mouth) if Sophia comes back and screams for an entire class again. I don't know how polite it will be to lodge my eyes permanently in the back of my head as Sophia cracks her head in frustration on the classroom wall or how polite it will be for me to haul that mother into the hallway myself and verbally try to save her from herself.

I just don't know.

Pray with me that little Sophia takes up Kindermusic or Gymboree or something. Anything but French lessons!!!

Hope Springs...

In certain blog entries I have expressed my interest in the Christian church and it's decline and/or growth in France - I have also expressed my concern about the predicted "Eurabia" that seems looming on the horizon if France (and the rest Europe) does not return to marriage and the family soon. Many experts predict that in 50 years France will be at great risk of loosing it's culture. (Read: become a Mulsim nation)

I was told that the birth rate in France was up last year - it was not made clear to me whether that was due to native French pro-creation or due to the surge of Muslim (read: pro-creating) immigrents - native and illegal. At this point though I hear France (and by "France" I mean the France that we all know and love) is not producing enough children to maintain it's culture (The U.S. is following closely in that direction by the way.)

I found the following article very interesting - my friend Celine is coming back for a visit (she moved back to France last year) and I plan to have lunch with her the following week. I look forward to picking her brain on this subject in the meantime, enjoy this BRIEF article - if you click on it it will take you to the website where I found it and you can read the very interesting corresponding comments.


Muslims are converting to Christianity in their thousands in France but face exclusion from their families and even death threats.
Most Muslims hide their conversion and Protestant ministers do their utmost to protect new converts. It is estimated that every year in the world some six million Muslims convert to Christianity.

The Muezzin call to prayer. But here in France it is no longer reaching all Muslim ears.

Around 15,000 Muslims each year are converting to Christianity - around 10,000 to Catholicism and 5,000 to Protestantism....

Many Muslims in France hide their conversion but the trend is continuing. World wide around six million Muslims a year convert to Christianity.

I found this too! Living in France?
Click here for February's Christian events in your area.

Merci Mimi!

I just found a brand new site where I can order MACAROONS! I can not be more excited. 72 delightful, colorful macaroons for 56 dollers - that is really a good deal but very prompt shipping is required so I can't imagine how much they would cost.
None the less, I love macaroons and soon, within a month or so my blook "Thirty Days in Paris" will be up and running and you can read all about my obsession.
In the meantime, visit Mimi's blog (French kitchen in America) and the new online French food store where these Macaroons and much more can be found- both links are found in my new French Food Links.

Blog of the Week: French Kitchen in America

Photo Credit: Lepicerie.com

Favorite Paris Photos V

Vous avez raison, it's not Paris. It is Mont St. Michel...another favorite photo from my last trip to France...sadly, 3 years ago...I had the island to myself. Someday I will get that journal up and running and you can read all about it. If you get the chance to "Google Earth" Mont St. Michel you will not be disappointed.
C'est joli n'est pas?

Jesu est arrive a Paris!!!

click here

Jesus has arrived in Paris. No, he didn't just land at Charles de Gaulle...He came in from London on the Eurostar!

Of course I am trying to make you laugh and thankfully Jesus is everywhere but let's just say that the acknowledgment of Him in Paris has been pretty nil lately until now!

What seems like lifetimes ago I had the privilege of singing with Darlene Chechk from Hillsong "Down Under" - her music and ministry is truly anointed and the Lord used her music to minister to me and encourage me during an awful chapter in my life. "All things are possible" I used to sing, rejoicing and crying because nothing nothing seemed possible at the time. Upon my limited interaction with her it is clear she is a powerful Christian with an intimate relationship with the Lord. She wrote many songs you may (as a Christian) be familiar with; Shout to the Lord, All things are Possible, The Potter's Hand etc. And I have seen Hillsong Church on T.V....wow!

Well, I was puttsing around on the internet the other day trying to find churches (Evangelical/Reformed/Protestant etc) in Paris (St. Michaels and the American Church in Paris being about as good as it gets) when I discovered that Hillsongs is alive and on fire in Paris every Friday night over in the Les Halles area!!!

BONJOUR!!!

This is a really big deal.

I have heard the rumblings of the French being more open to the Gospel lately (for a (portion) fascinating article click here) I have heard of a thriving church in Nice but a growing church in the heart of Paris - well, all things may be possible but I never thought it would happen.

"Oh, ye of little faith."

Turns out, for many people that whole, "God is dead" thing isn't working out too well for them. I wonder why.

If you could only understand my curiosity at what a "Christian Parisian (ne)" looks like. In America we have this "Christian stereotype" - bubbly, non-wine drinking, smiling, maybe even kind of frumpy - or the opposite - the slick, matching pantsuit worship team member look...allow me to prattle on...
The Parisien (ne)'s (the extra"ne" indicating female Paris dwellers) are on the whole NOT a bubbly, smiling people and they definately are not giving up their wine. On the metro they don't feel the need to make cheery eye contact should your eye's actually connect. They seem to scowl unless chatting away on their cell phone. They seem to always be in a hurry, they don't make small talk with you while standing in line at the bakery. All the "look at me, I am so nice" things American's do to connect with each other - well - the French (Parisiens) think we are plum crazy for.

SO, this leads me back, yes, I am finally getting somewhere, to my big question - what does a Parisien (ne) Christian look like? If it is not in your culture to make cheerful eye contact or engaging small talk with someone how do they know you have "they Joy of the Lord"? If you still enjoy a glass of wine with your meal (quel horreur!) how will people see that you are different from all those other heathens???

I love the French and the way they do some many things. I hate the pressure to make cheerful eye contact and small talk and heaven knows I drink a glass of red wine with every meal I make (and I cook at least 6 nights out of 7!) When I am there, a certain pressure if OFF that I don't realize I am under until I am within this more reserved culture - I can just keep to myself and be me and not be considered cranky for it - so again...what does a Parisien (ne) Christian look like? The entire concept is completely fascinating to me and I just wish an Angel of the Lord would appear in my bedroom tonight,

"Behold child, I have called you to Paris. The streets of Paris need the Gospel. Take you and your family."

I would stand looking grumpy yet full of the love of Christ on the street corners with the Africans handing out their pamphlets, - only mine would read,

Vendredi soir, 7:30
Hillsongs London in Paris!
Metro: Rambuteau"Jesu est arrive a Paris!"

Photos from www.Hillsongs.fr

Coming soon...My Trumeau...Real or Faux???

Check back on Monday for my latest creation!!!! Je suis TRES excite!

Favorite Paris Photos IV

Passage from : Thirty Days in Paris

...Finally, after what I imagine was at least 3 miles later (I forgot my little pedometer thing) I made it back, feet throbbing to my apartment but no rest was in sight… I went to lie down and the phone rang. It was Jill’s friend Vicki and we made plans to go shopping and then for dinner. I really wanted to go to le Chien que Fume (The Smoking Dog) because I have always wanted to try oysters and I have it on good authority that this is a great place to try them for the first time. Mais alors, I left my guidebook that would help me with that at home and I couldn’t find it in the phone book.
Instead, we went shopping. I needed a hair dryer and one of those bags with the wheels on it that everyone uses here and I have been looking all day for Caudalie skin care products. It seems like on my last trip they were more readily available at the pharmacies but I have not been able to find a pharmacy that carries them yet. I guess that is why God made Sephora. And boy did he make this one. I think we were on the rue Rivoli. We shopped at a two story Sephora (about 5 times bigger than the one at Woodfield) and I found my perfume that is discontinued in the United States. I was very happy. We then went to the Monoprix; like Target only better if that’s possible because J’aime Target. I found my hair dryer and my cool little bag with wheels. Pulling that thing behind me I am one step closer to becoming a true Parisienne!
After having no luck with “The Smoking Dog” we decided on the Georges V on the Champs Elysses but our feet were throbbing so bad from a day of walling up and down the city we settled on a favorite of mine – Le depart St. Michel. Le Depart is by no means a grand café but it holds a special place in my heart. Four years ago Joel and I enjoyed our first meal here. Exhausted, jet lagged, full of anticipation yet starving we threw our luggage in the corner of our hotel room on the rue des Cannettes and set out to discover the city. Notre Dame was the closest of the big sightseeing attractions (as least ones that I knew Joel would immediately recognize) but we were so tired and so hungry that we could go no further so we stopped before crossing the street to the cathedral for soup a l’ongion at Le Depart St. Michel. Vicki and I were standing in the very same spot four years later just as hungry and just as tired.
I was hoping to acquire an acquaintance with a few waiters at a few cafes so I could feel like a regular and be able to practice my French on my visits. My hopes were realized. Vicki and I met a very nice waiter named Christophe and he helped us with our pronunciation – it was very cool. Dinner conversation was strained. I thought I was the kind of person that could get on with just about anyone but I just wasn’t finding any common ground. Being a very passionate person can be hard for me. If someone can’t even attempt to fake enthusiasm and any subject its hard for me to connect. Especially when the subject they can’t get excited about is PARIS! After dinner (about 10:30) we parted ways – she’s pregnant and I was really to collapse.
When I got home though I was wide awake. It was so bizarre so I sent out a few emails and watched a little TV au francais, talked with Joel and finally went to bed around 2:30a.m. Pathetique.

Favorite Paris Photos III

This is a photo from my 2004 trip and I took it because I had seen the same bike parked outside the Timhotel in Montmartre two years before. Situated at the Place d'Abbesses this hotel faces a lovely seating area with those quintesential dark green benches and muse looking fountains that we associate with old, romantic Paris. Around the corner is the Moulin de la Galette and if you continue on you will find Sacre Coeur peaking out over the Place de Tertre. Lovely.

Make your reservations here: Timhotel Montmartre

Favorite Paris Photos II

Flowers at the Tuesday and Thursday morning market at Metro stop Maubert Mutualite. Just steps from "my" apartment on Rue de la Bucherie.

Favorite Paris Photos!

In my half hearted effort to self publish two books in the next year I thought, hey, why not make it 3? The third being a picture book of Paris thru my eyes, or thru the lens of my Rebel...or rather thru the zoom lens my Mom let me borrow...you get the photo...I mean, picture.

Here is a teaser...more to come!