Obama Watch

I'm working this morning from my apartment and watching the news.

The BBC and Britain's Sky News are obsessively covering the exact moment when President Obama arrives at Downing Street. They haven't taken a commercial in awhile and the camera hasn't moved an inch. I think that in addition to the political commentators there's a fashion one waiting to critique Barack and Michelle's outfits. Seriously? I thought we were bad.

Between newsbits, they are also making fun of England's Home Secretary Jacqui Smith. Apparently, she likes to expense quite a bit to the government including her husband's porn video rentals. You expense porn and you're asking for it as far as I'm concerned.

The 4am phone call

I went to bed insanely early last night at 8:30pm because I literally couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. I woke up at 4am and noticed that my Mom had text messaged me to call her on Skype ASAP.

I love Skype for moments like these: My youngest sister was accepted to Yale yesterday with a nearly 100% scholarship. (She's also been accepted to Berkeley, University of Chicago, Tufts, UC Davis, and UC San Diego too. All of those but Tufts with 100% scholarships. )

Andrea and I did the happy dance together with full audio and video over Skype. We laughed as I reminded her I was the one who knew she would get in.

When I got off the phone, I almost cried with pride. I was pretty tired though and fell back asleep instead.

What I did today

After French class, I headed down the Boulevard Raspail towards the Rodin Museum. I found a small marché right down the center of the avenue. I purchased some items for dinner this evening and continued on looking for a place for lunch.

I made a left on the Rue Grenelle which I read had some charming shops and bistros. I passed an amazing cheese shop closed for siesta and an Italian grocer.

I settled on a bustling French brasserie a few blocks off the main road for lunch. Once seated, I perused the menu and thought I had a decision. Until the waiter showed me the specials board. I chose the filet in bearnaise sauce with pommes frites off the board. The waiter asked me in English if I wanted the steak medium or well done. I answered in French with the right word for "rare." I could see he was taken aback that I knew the right word. He complimented my French and was impressed right up until I ordered an iced tea. When I chose not to have wine with lunch or an espresso at the end, he imperceptibly shook his head in wonder. Damn Americans. :)

Next stop: the Rodin Museum. It was a beautiful day to wander the garden and see the amazing statues. French schoolchildren were in abundance today; some were playing tag in the back. I took tons of photos of the sculptures. And I caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower from the garden. I also bought a naked man Rodin postcard for my friend Chris who could use more loving in her life.

For some reason, I have never visited the Hotel des Invalides and the French Army museum. This monument is the massive gold dome in the center of Paris. I've probably taken photos from afar on previous trips. Napoleon 1 is buried in a gargantuan tomb under the dome. The dome is stunningly beautiful inside; colorful murals line the inside. For wine lovers, French general Marechal Foch is also entombed here.

I tried to take the Metro at Rue de Varennes but was thwarted when I couldn't buy a ticket. I had to walk to the opposite side of Invalides and was richly rewarded with a full view of the Eiffel Tower across the gardens. Found the Metro and headed home.

Today is the 120th anniversary of the dedication of the Eiffel Tower. Happy birthday, Eiffel Tower.

Today's purchases

On the Boulevard Raspail about a block from the French Alliance, I found another lovely street market. I bought:

• Dried strawberries from Provence
• Aged manchego cheese
• Fresh gnocchi for tonight's dinner

At the patisserie near my home, I purchased:

• A small baguette to go with my dinner
• A buttery croissant (already eaten)
• A slice of tarte normande for dessert this evening. It looks like a custard tart with raspberries or cherries.
  
• An apple brioche for tomorrow's breakfast.
  

Jean Charles and the smackdown

Jean Charles and I share a common pet peeve: people who speak English in French class.

Today, several Americans joined my French class. Sara, a blond MBA student from University of Southern California, and Shawn, a young & fabulously gay black man from Los Angeles. Sara is one of those people who needs to talk. When Sara couldn't easily find the words in French, she would break into English or say English words with an American accent.

Jean Charles politely reminded Sara both the first and second time that she must "forget" English in his classroom. By the fourth time, I thought he was going to kill her and I was silently rooting for him to do just that.

After the seventh time, Jean Charles lost it and started ranting. My special thanks to Jean Charles for saying exactly what I was thinking.

You know the eggs are fresh

when you find feathers matted on the egg shell.

I love the smell of laundry in the morning

I love the smell of French laundry detergent. It may just be because it's French, but I want to wash all of my clothes immediately in the enchanting laundry soap. However, the washer/dryer just does not want to unlock and let my fresh, clean jeans out this morning. I'm playing it's game and letting the dryer run for another 12 minutes to see if it will cooperate then.

At the least the coffeemaker works. Breakfast this morning is café au lait, strawberries with mango yogurt, a brioche with sugar, and an egg over hard. Yoplait needs to import this mango yogurt; it's tasty.

Off for another day of class. And then probably to the Rodin Museum and that arrondissement.

The real week begins

I was up early this morning at 7am to talk to Nino and then get ready for my first day of class. It was a mad scramble since I lingered with Nino before he and the dogs headed off to bed.

I felt like a local when I took the Metro, changed trains mid-route, and found the French Alliance on Boulevard Raspail pretty easily. Although I was later than I wanted to be, I made it before the class started, paperwork in hand and ready to parler français.

I was dismayed that I was assigned to level A2. I then arrived in the classroom and met a Danish girl who spoke NO French. She couldn't even say her name. Thankfully, when the professor Jean Charles arrived he assigned her to another class. It turns out I was assigned to the correct class. The Portland French Alliance is much easier than this one so the levels there don't necessarily correspond.

Jean Charles is particularly French. At one point during the class, he explained what it means to be elegant. Suffice to say that if you're not French actress Catherine Deneuve you are likely not elegant.

The rest of my class includes Vo from Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam, Natsuki from Yokohama in Japan, Olga from St. Petersberg in Russia, and Enriquez. Enriquez is a 20something professional swimmer from Brazil. Even if you conjure up the best looking Brazilian ever, I guarantee you that Enriquez is about 1000% better looking. He apparently won a bunch of medals this weekend at a meet in Strasbourg.

After class, I wandered into the Montparnasse neighborhood in the direction of the Luxembourg Gardens.

I stopped into a small bistro for lunch, Café St. Michel. The place looked unassuming and I figured that the chalkboard outside was a good indicator that it was palatable. The clientele was 100% French. I munched on quiche, salad, and espresso. 1970s American pop songs cheerfully played in the background. I noticed that the cafe had WiFi, so I asked the server what the password was. He said, "Elvis Presley." I asked him to repeat since I wasn't sure I'd heard him correctly. I did.

After lunch, I walked across the street to the Luxembourg Gardens. I grabbed a seat near the fountain and kicked back in the sun, the highlight of my day today. Lots of students from the nearby Sorbonne and many professionals filled the seats around me. Perfect weather for lazily reading, writing, and people watching.

Next stop was Bread and Roses, a delectable French (and probably American) café that I had read about but found entirely on accident. Since I had had my fill of caffeine for the day, I ordered hot mint tea and a cannelé. A cannelé is a pastry that's a little bit crunchy on the outside and soft vanilla cake on the inside. Everything in this lovely spot looked divine. Even the fruit cake looked edible, something fruit cake has never looked before. They made my tea with real mint leaves. I took home a box of chamomile tea to have after dinner in my apartment.

I continued to walk on toward home once more, right through the St. Germain Des Pres neighborhood. Lots of upscale boutiques like Yves Saint Laurent here. And I saw Gap. Past the Cluny Museum (Middle Age focused) and the massive St. Sulplice Church which was under construction/renovation. The fountain outside though was spitting full force.

I could see Notre Dame on the Rive Droit from the Rive Gauche side. Today's sunny weather made the already stunning church truly shine.

Onto the Île St. Louis, past Berthillon ice cream, along the gourmet street Nino and I shopped on in 2006, and all the way home. Made a quick stop at my local patisserie for a small baguette to go with dinner and a pastry for tomorrow's breakfast.

Tonight, I plan to grill a small leg of lamb with olive oil and garlic and sauté some eggplant with fresh squeezed lemon. I have an apple tart for dessert and my chamomile tea from Bread and Roses.

Imagine

Someone in my small apartment building is playing the piano. Soft, lilting sounds are floating down into the courtyard as I write. The first song I recognized was John Lennon's Imagine. Imagine indeed. Now I believe the player has moved on to Mozart or another classical composer. He or she is very talented.

What I bought at the Marché Bastille

• 4 large carrots ( I am eating the first as I write this; it's the best ever.)
• Hot paella for my lunch
• The biggest lemon I've ever seen
• Tarte au citron (Lemon meringue tart)
• Tarte aux pommes (Apple tart)
• Dark pink tulips
• A piece of pink tuna for dinner tonight
• Tomato and mozzarella salad
• Leg of lamb chop for dinner on Monday or Tuesday
• Purple eggplant
• 2 red bell peppers
• 4 tangerines
• Large, lush red strawberries from Morocco
• 6 fresh eggs for breakfast this week
  

The smell of the chickens roasting almost tempted me to buy one. I think that will be my plan on Thursday.

Marché Bastille

This is perhaps one of the best farmers markets that I have ever been to. Fresh meat, seafood, and fruits draw your eye from one table to the next.

I was totally immersed in the sights and sounds of the amazing market when it happened.

I got pooped on by a pigeon. Yuck!

I wiped it off and tried to be brave. Then I started to fear that I didn't get it all off. Here I was that weird American walking around with pigeon poop on her face. Since my apartment was close by, I surrendered and went home for a thorough shower.

I entered my temporary domicile and saw that I had gotten it all off my face. So, I washed my bangs in the sink, tossed my new 5 euro scarf in the washer, wiped off my jacket, and prepared to face the market for a second time. It's tempting to hide in my apartment and watch French soap operas and music videos instead on this somewhat lazy Sunday, but I am "cowboying up" and heading out instead.

The red peppers, fresh tuna, delectable Morrocan food, and brioches are calling my name.

March 28

I tore myself away from French music videos and a curious soap opera to venture to the Marché Bastille. Too bad I confused the words for Saturday and Sunday; the market is actually tomorrow.

I had a lovely time wandering the Marais today. I stumbled onto French discount store Tati where I purchased an insanely cheap pair of turquoise cotton slippers and some dish towels for my towel-less kitchen. Next door was French department store Monoprix, similar to Target. I picked up a slice of pizza and a strawberry macaroon for lunch as I continued to wander.

After stopping for a rest in a pretty neighborhood parc, I continued on until I saw a sign pointing towards the French Archives, a museum dedicated to the history of France. As I got there, I noticed a placard for the Musée Picasso, a museum high on my To Do list, so I continued on instead turning on the Rue Vielle Temple. Many boutiques and fun window shopping. Turned many wrong corners looking for the Picasso museum and found the Musée Carnavalet and Places des Vosges. The Place des Vosges parc square was full of Parisians and tourists alike enjoying their Saturday.

Musée Carnavalet covers the history of Paris, everything from art to interior design and history. Paintings, sculptures, and furniture galore.

I finally found the Picasso museum. I know a lot about Picasso and late 19th century and 20th century art. I didn't know that Picasso was such as avid sculptor. I found his many sculptures fascinating, but strange. I took quite a few photos until I was told it's forbidden. Oops. Oh well.

By now the sunny sky was beginning to could; drizzle falling shortly after. I ducked into a To Go food counter for a sugar cinnamon crepe. I munched on the crepe and realized that I was almost home.

Got back just in time to miss the downpour. Plan to talk to take a nap tout de suite.

Welcome to Paris!

I am finally here after two connections and almost 24 hours of constant travel.
My tiny apartment, translated as the Cherry Orchard, is located in the Marais.

The airport shuttle driver and I must have chatted for almost two hours as we drove around town dropping off the other passengers. I was so proud of myself for chatting entirely in French.

Of course, I had to unpack and settle in first since this is home for the next 30 days. Then, it was off to the boulangerie and supermarché. Both of which are less than 20 metres from the front gate of the apartment. I had to go back to the boulangerie twice when I realized that I had grabbed a sandwich and pain au chocolat, but had forgotten the baguette. I'm so excited that I'm finally staying in a neighborhood and not in a tourist mecca.

After taking a quick shower and nap, I met the landlord and got the official tour of my probably less than 300 square feet of living space. I had pretty much had the lay of the land already. :)

Nino and I talked on Skype for the first time while I was here. He got the tour via webcam. Mom and I talked on Skype too. Andrea was offered a substantial scholarship to Berkeley!!

Last night, I was so tired that I just stayed in. It must have been divine providence because Alias, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, and X Files were all on television en français. Whatever universe this is, it has my name on it.

I spent my first night in the giant bunk bed, lofted above my main floor. Surprisingly, it was comfortable and I slept well. Except for waking up at 2am after falling asleep at 8pm. Oh well, at least I stayed up until 8pm.

Nino and I talked this morning and he showed me Hope and Niki on webcam. Hope was a little freaked out. She jumped off the couch to get away from the computer. Niki just farted. Boy was I glad to be thousands of miles away at that moment.

I ate my pain au chocolat this morning along with coffee, a banana, and Yoplait mango yogurt. Now, if I can tear myself away from Saturday morning music videos (both American and French pop songs), I will shower and head to the Marché Bastille.

What is Lowcountry Dining?

So, being here in Charleston and seeing all of these signs for "lowcountry food" makes me wonder - what exactly is this style of cuisine? Something you dig out of the ground?

Lowcountry cuisine, according to Wikipedia, is food that draws specifically from the "South Carolina Low Country and Georgia." It holds some ties with Southern cooking, but is influenced by a local abundance of fresh seafood, its uses of grain as part of the diet and correlations with Caribbean and Africian cuisines.

Charleston proper certainly does hold a number of restaurants claiming to cook this lowcountry specialty. While I won't list individual ones here becasue I haven't tried enough to pass judgement, I can at least point you to this short article which offers a handful of ideas to start with.

Charleston Food & Wine Festival

This is the first year we've attended the Charleston Food & Wine Festival. We could have easily planned our entire four days here around the fest. Unfortunately, we didn't know about this until we read about it in Delta Airline's magazine. Bobby Flay is the signature guest this year and (unsurprisingly) all of his events were sold out long ago.

The fest has a good mix of events with prices ranging from $50 to $750. Most of the food was supplied and cooked by local restaurants. Since South Carolina has an incredibly limited wine selection and only a few microbreweries, I wasn't surprised to see mostly California and Oregon wines and beers. It was good to see local folks like Firefly Distillery pouring at the Culinary Tent though. Firefly is becoming well known for their vodkas, like SweetTea Vodka.

Because it was our first time, we made the mistake of choosing to enter the Grand Tasting Tent on Saturday afternoon. The locals have since warned us that any other time would have been better. It was a constant stampede of pushing, drinking, jostling and then eating for a solid 90 minutes as we made our way around the two different tents.

The most memorable (and my favorite) treat came from Rio Bertolini, a fresh pasta maker from Charleston. It had a cannoli like, crunchy shell confection, a scoop of sweet fresh ricotta, and raspberry sauce. (I noticed yesterday that Etcetera in Daniel Island carried their fresh pastas.) Whoever that chef with the fantastic mac n'cheese was at the South Carolina Lottery tent: you have a solid future, my friend. Thank you Jim N Nick's BBQ for the good sized pulled pork sandwiches. The mouth watering goodness satisfied my appetite and soaked up the wine. There were entirely too many soups, bisques, etc. for this type of show. A note to future food purveyors: Stick to one dish and the line in front of your both won't explode into the aisles. Move 'em in and move 'em out so as many people as possible can sample your offerings. Otherwise, people stomp off in crowds like this or just cut the line.

Etcetera Gourmet Food Shoppe: A Daniel Island treasure

Nino and I decided to stay close to home today and try one of the establishments on Daniel Island. And we were not disappointed when we ventured into Etcetera Gourmet Food Shoppe.

The small lunch spot and grocery is located along the main road in Daniel Island. It looks like any other restaurant from the outside. Walking in the door, it struck me that this was an unusual spot for the Charleston area (and probably South Carolina as a whole). A light filled deli with a few bistro tables scattered where they could squeeze them in. The store is lined with shelves of gourmet foodstuffs from around the world, primarily from the Mediterranean.

The cheerful staff serves up sandwiches, salads, cheeses, and other gourmet delights. The menu is just long enough to give you a few options and short enough that you're convinced everything is fresh.

I had my eye on the cranberry chicken salad, but since its a Lenten Friday I chose a meatless dish instead. I opted for the smaller size Ploughman's plate. Fresh french bread slices, tangy olive oil, salty olives, dried cranberries, a nut mixture, and three cheeses of my choice. I picked an aged Manchego, brie, and idizabal. They'll pick the cheeses for you or they welcome your input. (A welcome option indeed since I know a little about cheese and most places won't let you choose.) The dish was nicely presented and tasty. There was so much on even the small plate that I couldn't finish. They offered both sweetened and unsweetened ice tea. I mention this fact because I find it's hard to get unsweetened black tea in the South.

I finished the meal with a vanilla ricotta chocolate chip cannoli. Oh baby. I like cannolis. And I'm pretty picky. Etcetera filled the fresh, crispy shell with the cream AFTER I ordered. The difference is immediate since the cream doesn't make the shell soft from sitting around waiting to be eaten. The vanilla definitely added an extra layer of sweetness that enticed my tastebuds.

Lunch isn't the only reason to stop here. Their gourmet shop stocked things even I hadn't seen before. Watermelon peach preserves from Greece anyone? The wide selection of Italian gourmet products, teas, fresh cheeses, deli meats, and delectable chocolates was pretty impressive for any area, but especially here.

Nino's lovely Italian aunt who we are has often bemoaned the lack of good Italian food stuffs in the Charleston area. (Aunt Joan was raised in New York by 100% Italian parents.) She's the one who recommended we check our Etcetera. And maybe that's about the best compliment you can get.

Charleston's Southend Brewery and Smokehouse

Nino dragged me to Southend Brewery and Smokehouse in Charleston for lunch today. As you can tell already, brewpubs aren't my favorite. I don't drink microbrews, macrobrews, or anything that smells or tastes like beer.

So, I judge these watering holes on their food and other drinks. The bar is pretty high considering we currently live in Portland, Oregon.

I ordered she-crab soup, a woodfired pizza, and french doughnut bread pudding.

First though, I started with a cosmopolitan. (I'm a freelance writer so I can drink at lunch without getting in trouble). Their cosmo was better than average. It was fruity, if a little weak. They actually got it right though. A good first step.

The she-crab soup, a lowcountry specialty, was decidedly below average. Not creamy enough for my taste. I can tell you that the crab was fresh because I found a few shells in my soup.

I ordered my woodfired pizza with smoked red onions, mushrooms, and smoked chicken. This is one of their specialties, so I was especially hopeful. Unfortunately, the server left the pizza waiting on the counter for almost ten minutes under a heat lamp. (We could see it from our booth.) She was busy or waiting for Nino's pulled pork sandwich to be finished, not sure which. This made the cheese plastic-like. I ate 2 pieces of six. I did take the rest back to our rental home though and am hoping that it warms up in the oven better tomorrow.

The french doughnut bread pudding was the highlight of the meal. Slightly soft vanilla ice cream topped a buttery, flaky pastry delight; golden raisins were nestled inside. We fought over the last couple of bites. :)