Paris—Day 5

Today was a Parisian day, plain and simple. We didn't go anywhere tourist-y, we shopped at normal stores, and we had an incredible time doing it. No fun photos, just great memories and great weather and tons of fun. We slept in, ate last night's leftover baguette smeared with crème fraîche with eggs for breakfast, and wandered down Rue Rivoli looking for fun places to explore and enjoy. We found them, and even tried on some clothes, which we were both afraid to do because let me tell you—these Parisians are skinny. Like SKINNY skinny. And they wear tight clothes.

We were, however, able to find some fun things that looked great on us and had some good laughs as we grew steadily more hungry. We found a place with linen on sale and a great place to buy the world's best chocolate in bulk, which we did not buy, despite my great hankering to do so. Liz asked for a bottle of water all by herself at a shop, and I was so proud of her! It was a double win—Liz gains independence, and I don't have to order everything for her!

She had panini, and I got something at the Lebanese place again, which might be my new favourite thing in the whole wide world. We found L'Atelier au Chocolat, one of the finest candy makers in the city, and let me tell you something about Rocher—amazing. Those little Ferrerro things you get in the grocery store and nothing compared to the real thing, which are at least twice as large, and 143,721 times more delicious. I will learn to make them. soon.

We stopped home for a potty break, and I realized that we were about to miss the last chance at a market I wanted to visit, so we ran like mad for the Eiffel Tower area, and made it with 1/2 hour to spare. Unfortunately, markets close up early in Paris, so we missed it, so we sat on a park bench nearby and planned our next move. We decided to return to the area near our hotel from earlier in the week, and wandered through the antique shops, although I think they were less vibrant than usual because of the colder afternoon. We enjoyed time and talk as we wandered through the streets on the way home, although one of the stores I wanted to visit was closed.

We're learning that we like living here, at least for a week, but we're going to need better shoes next time. Our bodies are starting to wear out a bit, but we've enjoyed the tiny luxury of our relaxing apartment to help stave off holiday exhaustion. Tonight was Liz chat night, so while she taught, I ran a few errands, and was even stopped to sign a petition by a man who just rambled at me in French; he didn't assume I was a tourist! It was so great; I love that feeling.

After Liz's chats tonights, we ventured out for our single French restaurant meal. I made the reservations yesterday, and we ventured over just in time for our 8 pm spot tonight, plenty hungry, and ready for some good eatin'. In France, the menu is a fixed set of dishes that sometimes has options for each course, but that charges a flat rate for the meal. Your option is to order from the carte (or card menu) at a separate price for each dish. That, of course, is where we get the term a la carte (from the card.) We enjoyed the prix fixe menu, and were able to choose from those things listed to make the meal we wanted most. We had amazing things like braised asparagus (the fattest I've ever seen) and slow roasted lamb shoulder, white fish over leeks, and vanilla custard and rice pudding for dessert.

Better than everything, however, was the third course—the cheese plate. Think of the largest serving tray you own, then expand it just a little. Then pile it high with cheeses of many sizes, shapes, and colours, soft and hard, mild and strong. They just left it at our table, and we helped ourselves, using knives and our fingers to gather slices and slabs that suited us just so. When it was time for another guest to enjoy it, the waitress came and asked if we were finished, and encouraged us to take just a little more. We decided it's the perfect way to run a restaurant: one waiter, one bartender, who was also the owner, and one other man to take our coats, interact with guests, and help around as necessary. I'm sure there was a full staff in the kitchen working brilliantly to keep us all fed, but we only ever saw three people.

One of the fun things about the meal is that our tiny table was up against a wall, and there was another tiny table butted right up against it. Shortly after we arrived, an older French couple was escorted to the other half of our table, and we shared the evening together, each on a different course at a different time. We chatted just a bit with them, but mostly we each kept to our own conversations on our own halves. It was natural, fun, and different than what we'd accept or expect in the states. It was a great cultural exploration, and with a dining room the size of our living and dining rooms combined, there wasn't much choice. I bet there weren't more than 20 of those small tables for two in the whole place. It was different, intimate, and a grand adventure. We were there for over two hours, and enjoyed every relaxed, beautiful minute of it. I can't remember the last time I went out to eat and wasn't ready to go within 40 minutes and wondering what to do with the rest of the evening. This was so much better.

Tomorrow's our last day in Paris, and it looks like we've done everything we came to do. Tomorrow should be a great day of fun doing a few things again, eating a few snacks, and having a dynamite day in the city.