J has one of those enviable jobs in which she is frequently required to jet off to places like Belgium and Shanghai to be wined and dined (and have ideas that lead to profits); on this occasion, she was staying in a castle in the French countryside being given multicourse French meals and swag. On Friday evening she and her coworker arrived in Paris and we all met up for dinner. Before we could make a decision about a restaurant, however, we walked past a wine bar ansd decided that we should have a drink first. The three of us shared a bottle of (real) Champagne which was quite a lot better than the sparkling wine I've had and resulted in none of us being entirely sober. We then went to a bistro called "Epi d'Or" (something along the line of "Golden Wheat"). I had quite a good meal there, of escargots (they taste like the butter and garlic they sit in. Amazingly, in France it is apparently considered acceptable to mop up your extra butter and garlic with your bread.), followed by roasted duck (yummy, rich) and green beans (crisp) and tarte tatin (like apple pie but better). I also tried a bite of the foi gras that J and her coworker ordered, which is basically super-refined, super-fatty chopped liver (in a good way). After this, J and I went back to my apartment and chatted for a long time to let our food digest.
Yesterday morning we went for a run, despite the weather gearing up to be very hot and unpleasant. After all, when you are going to eat all day, it is important to start out hungry. For breakfast we went to a little cafe and had coffees and croissants like real Parisians (it took us a while to find a cafe that was open, as either waking up at a reasonable hour, or eating shortly after waking, or both, are unParisian). Then we headed to Rue Cler, a street known for its lovely food. This was rather a long walk, particularly at tourist gawking-everywhere pace, and by the time we reached our destination it was time for lunch. We found a cafe with sidewalk seating, where J had fish and I had a mushroom omelette (and we both had more coffee). My omelette was prepared quite differently from American omelettes - brown on the outside, runny on the inside, and somehow infused with butter. I was impressed at coexistence of such a broad menu and such good quality, particularly in such a modest-sized restaurant at reasonable prices.
After lunch, we shopped in the Rue Cler fromagerie and then walked over to Les Invalides. There were attractive parks and jardins to see, as well as the tomb of Napoleon and a museum of arms and armaments. This took up the midafternoon, followed by our return walk through Tuileries. We returned to my apartment for afternoon tea (fresh bread and our Rue Cler cheese, which included two yummy goat cheeses and a truly amazing soft white cheese called Saint-Felicien) and a nap. Then it was time to head out for dinner...
We decided to stick close to home and went to a restaurant I'd seen near my apartment called "Au Pied de Cochon" (The Pig's Foot). They had wine in many sizes (small and large glasses, small and large carafes, small and large bottles), which was particularly nice for two people with different tastes in wine. I ordered French onion soup to start (you have to have it once in Paris, I figure, even if it is summer), which was basically a giant bowl half-full of cheese with some onion soup on the bottom. For my main course (being, as I'd expected, largely satisfied by the soup) I decided to be adventurous and order the restaurant's namesake, the Trottoir, i.e. the pig's foot. This turned out to be... alarming. I had expected some sort of confit of pig foot but instead I received, well, a pig's foot. And half its leg, I think. On a plate, with french fries. I did not bring a camera to the meal, so I cannot show you a picture, but i can assure you that the image is quite clearly imprinted in my mind.
After consuming some wine and a few french fries, I became emboldened to encounter Wilbur (the name I gave him) at the point furthest away from his actual foot. It turns out that he had a skin, and quite a lot of fat, and bones - I stopped here, took a few deep breaths, and told myself that I have no problem eating chicken legs, under which was a small amount of dark-pink meat. The meat tasted good, a bit like duck meat but lighter and less sweet in flavor. However, there was much more fat, bone, and gristle than meat, and after a few bites I decided I had experienced the Trottoir and was satisfied.
J thought there was probably much more meat to be had and suggested that I turn Wilbur over to get to his possibly meatier aspect. I started to do this (with my fork), but she quickly told me to stop - it turns out, Wilbur still had toes, and also a thumb-toe. She then removed the bottom half of Wilbur to her plate and, using her fingers (according to her, this is how it is supposed to be done, as evidenced by the bone plate and finger bowl they gave me) quickly turned him from a part of somebody's body into a mess of gristle. She gave me a few pieces of meat to eat, and - after I refused to try it - demonstrated the correct way to consume the Trottoir, which involves sucking meat and fat off its bones.
For dessert, I had "soft chocolate cake" - this is chocolate cake that is uncooked inside, and the uncooked cake becomes a pudding or sauce - with vanilla ice cream. Rather a boring anticlimax, I suppose, but very good, and with no disconcerting features.
Today we went to Ile de St. Louis. Actually, first we spent some time looking for an open cafe at which to acquire coffee; this turns out to be somewhat problematic even at 10 a.m. on a Sunday. On Ile de St. Louis, we checked out the church, the old houses, and the stores selling jewelry and offbeat souvenirs; we also checked out the Berthillion ice cream shop, supposedly the best in the city. We tried the "salted butter caramel" (actually salty, and with caramel bits) and the "nougat au miel" (rich and honey flavored). For lunch we went to a creperie we'd been eyeing, where we had savory crepes. J headed home, and I bought produce from the market in preparation for a renewal of my simple, pigfootless eating habits.
Amazingly, I am actually starting to get hungry again, and I am probably going to at some point require dinner.
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