Troisième Jour Paris: Day Three

Bonjour en cette nuit pluvieuse à Paris – Hello on this rainy night in Paris—

OK… so today was really rainy, but not very cold (in the 40s and 50s; actually the temperatures have been quite pleasant and while we’ve had some overcast days, this was the first day where the rain really got in the way. But we persevered. Today was Mike’s birthday so we headed off to a pretty swanky brunch place requiring a 30-minute walk… uphill about 200 meters to the Hotel Particulier, which is located in a somewhat secretive setting requiring entry by reservation and through a gate. The restaurant is located inside a very small hotel with a very big reputation—just 5 suites I’m told and getaway places for those who can afford the prices (I didn’t get the price sheet). Supposedly, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, Cameron Diaz and others of that ilk have stayed in one of these five rooms. I thought it might be snooty, but the restaurant was quite charming and staff was very friendly. It’s nestled in a hidden alley that you could easily miss—looks like a private entrance into a park, which it sort of is. The house/hotel is the former residence of the Hermes family. It must be beautiful in the spring when you can dine outside when the gardens are all in bloom. 

We lingered over the set three-course brunch menu and of course began with some champagne for Mike and Lillet for me.

Before we left our two-hour brunch, I went downstairs to use the bathroom. Inside my private toilet was a brass plaque (see photo) that said “Brad Pitt pissed here”…. See not snooty at all !  Naturally I had to peek into the other stalls and found that Cameron Diaz and Jacques Chirac had also pissed there !  So much for formality. I expect to return again to see a brass plaque stating “that “Fern Tiger pissed here.”

But, while downstairs, I also checked out one of the private reception rooms and adjoining gardens and some other women who were also having brunch were looking around as well. They asked if I could take a photo of the three of them. I obliged and asked where they were from (since they were speaking American English). They said “California”.. I said “Me too, where ?” and they replied “Bay Area”.. I said “Me too, where specifically ?” And they said “Oakland.” That was pretty serendipitous,. But it got even more so. Turned out that the three women are long time friends and I think have similar age children who are also friends. One of the kids was doing a semester abroad in Paris and the mother came to visit. The other moms and their children came along for the ride and to have fun. One of the women turns out to be a developer or development consultant who works with nonprofits. Somehow it came up (all of this conversation is happening just outside these toilets) that I was married to an architect and the developer said “Oh I know all the architects in the Bay Area, who is he ?”  I said Mike’s name and of course she knew him and has done some projects with his firm. Eagerly, she came upstairs to the restaurant to say hi to Mike (see photo) which she had someone at her table take. Small world ?? Then she asked for my email so she could send the photo to me (not sure why she didn’t get Mike’s email and send it directly to him). Anyway, once I gave my name she said… “Oh I know about you and I think you are on my database.” (Whatever database that is) I really don’t know who she is. But it got even more crazy. The women asked if we were only going to be in Paris or if we were traveling. When I said we were headed to Bulgaria, one of them has a good friend married to a Bulgarian and is reaching out to get restaurant recommendations for us. 

After that episode we walked in the rain (no umbrellas, only hoods) to see the sculpture of the man walking through the wall, which is also in Montmartre and just about two blocks from the Hotel Particulier. It’s by Jean Marais from the late 1980s. It’s based on a story written in the 1940s by Marcel Ayme and the location of the sculpture is on Place Marcel Ayme. The story (based on my quick research after seeing the sculpture) is about a man who finds that he can walk through walls. The hand that is sticking out from the wall is super shiny while the rest of the sculpture has aged and turned dark. This is due to the fact that so many people touch the hand. Perhaps, like Mike, they are trying to pull him out of the wall.

We continued our walk and found ourselves at the Musee de Montmartre… Those of you who know me, know I am not a big fan of museums and don’t like to spend a lot of time inside museums while traveling. But it was raining… Anyway, the Montmartre Museum is delightful, set in the charming 17th century house and grounds that was the residence over time for many artists, writers, and other creatives including Renoir, Dufy, and Suzanne Valadon. The permanent collection includes  the story of Montmartre—from its days filled with mills and vineyards to the urbanization of the area and the annexation of the area into the city of Paris. Over the years this place became the hangout and residence for many artists and cafes and caberets and the population of Montmarte grew… and the area was seen as the bohemian part of Paris. 

The museum has a large collection of the posters and actual publications of “Le Chat Noir” — a weekly literary magazine that included information about the nightclub of the same name and also political satire. The club became very popular and moved twice to larger quarters. The Salon of Incoherent Arts actually began at the club. All sorts of famous writers, poets, artists gathered at the club and also contributed to the journal. Neither the club nor the journal had much longevity (15 years ?). A side note— One of the Chat Noir posters is shown prominently in Breakfast at Tiffanys. Despite the rain (or because of it), we strolled around the museum/house.

And then we trekked back to the hotel… to get ready to have dinner. We (I) selected Chantoiseau which would have been a 15-minute walk (uphill) from our hotel. Alas, we wimped out and took a taxi since the rain wasn’t letting up. Chantoiseau is a small place with a very simple interior—maybe seats 30 ? Food was great and service matched. For the foodies—we started with oysters which came with some kind of vinaigrette and a tiny piece of kiwi sitting in each shell. The kiwi gave a little sweetness to the vinegar and the oysters were huge and perfect. We also had a second starter –-a sea bream carpaccio which came with some kind of a yogurt with very finely diced herbs and maybe cucumbers and pomegranate seeds… Whatever, it was truly fantastic. Then for main courses we shared the sweetbreads and an entrecote with baby vegetables. Everything was perfect. Since it was Mike’s birthday we didn’t pass on dessert—a lemon tart with some kind of lemon panna cotta (I think).

OK… that’s it. December 21 is over. On to the 22nd.

All the best-

Fern