hard to believe that it was 5 weeks ago I was in paris & saw mike rosenberg (better known as passenger) perform, one of the best gigs I’ve ever been to.
he played the song in the video below, travelling alone, which struck a chord with me, hence me naming my travel blog after it.
cheers mike.
thoughts in paris
you know that moment when you know something because either you’ve been told it or because you just know it or because you’ve seen it, but you don’t actually realise it until its thrust upon you?
everyone in paris smokes.
I’m positive I now have second hand emphysema.
I’m in awe of the fashions here. women usually dress nicely, although not as good as the men. frenchmen are to die for. their beige pants, baby blue shirts, brown shoes and belts, and yellow or navy jumpers over their shoulders make me melt. of course, I’ll always have a soft spot for an aussie blokes in flannies and blunnies, but frenchmen… they have, just, a little je ne sais quoi.
paris – le cheateaubriand part 2
right, so after all of my pre-dinner drama, I finally sat at my table for one… Squished between two very loved up couples. couldn’t help but giggle at how pathetically loved up they were, while they were probably laughing at me for being alone. meh, phuck the haters.
I can say this in hindsight, it’s really great to eat at a place like le chateaubriand alone because there’s no one sitting opposite you distracting you from the amazing meals being laid out in front of you. this sounds so lame, but I loved it because it was a very thought provoking meal in the sense of the combinations. I get distracted far too easily so this was a welcome change.
okay, the food.
I didn’t get a photo of the first appetiser, because I was obviously hypoglycaemic, so I smashed them within seconds. but they were cute little choux-pastry cheese bite things. infact, that’s probably not at all what they were, but in the waiters broken english, I heard cheese, so we’ll stick with that.
also considering I nearly fainted twice in the hour before being seated, I probably shouldn’t have decided to have matched wine to each course… but phuck it, you only live once, may as well make it memorable.
scallop, coriander flower
this beautiful little bowl was actually the size of a shot glass, which “you take in one”, according to my waiter. absolutely delicious, so much flavour in approximately 30mls.
shrimp, tamarind powder
won’t lie, I did feel a little strange eating the shells and everything of these baby shrimp (which feels really strange calling them that, they’re prawns) but they were so yummy and the tamarind powder was delicious
squid, elderflower, sesame, goat cheese
oh my, this was exquisite. the photo quality isn’t very good but there were about a million hundred thousand little elderflowers in this dish. the squid was divine, silky smooth and so much flavour.
fennel, coffee broth
at least I think that’s what this was, couldn’t really catch what my waiter said, plus it’s kinda fun just eating something when you have no idea what it is. so I think this was a coffee and fennel broth, at least that’s what it tasted like. horrible photo.
red snapper, broad bean, fennel, peas
this was pretty yum, nice to have some vegetables in a dish in paris! the fish was so delicious.
I should mention that each dish came out with its own paired glass of wine, cider or some sort of distilled alcohol. the wine that came out this time, was unbelievable. jacques sellose champagne grand cru 1986, officially the oldest wine I’ve ever tasted, actually the oldest champagne I’ve ever tasted, and it was to die for. I had the biggest grin on my face and up to this point, I thought I was in foodie heaven… and I hadn’t even had my favourite dish of the night!
barbue, arroche, acacia
this dish was my favourite. and I can’t even translate what it was. definitely fish, a white fish that fell apart when you put your fork in it, with purple leaves and a creamy sauce that was a little bit acidic as well. I’m such a sucker for acidic things, especially with fish, and this was to die for.
pork, samphire, chive flowers, tomato
and this one was probably my second favourite dish. my first experience of samphire and I loved it, really cool texture alongside tender slices of pork.
cucumber, lemon sorbet, pistachio crumb
obviously a palate cleanser, the cucumber was slightly frozen. I think it might have even been my first ever palate cleanser, there’s a first time for everything
tocino del cielo
so the name of this dish is a classic spanish dessert, though there was nothing classic about it. it looked like a mini tart, but turned into a liquid as soon as I ate it. salty, caramel-y, a bit fruity like it had apricots or something there, as well as sitting on a base of amaretto like crumbs that was sort of like fairy floss – you know how when you eat fairy floss it gets all hard and chewy? it was just like that, so good.
fresh strawberries with anise lolly things
I’d already experiences french strawberries prior to this point, but not with fluoro green anise flavoured lollies. delicious.
fennel/anise seemed to be a bit of a recurring theme on this night, not definitely not an overpowering flavour. when I got my coffee, little mini chocolate biscuit drops with fennel seeds.
overall, one of the best foodie nights of my life. dinner by heston was amazing, but in a different way. tasting menus, I think, truly represent what a chef is all about. inaki is a pretty complex bloke, by the looks of things, who is truly creative and willing to explore the weird and unusual.
definitely worth almost fainting twice.
paris – le chateaubriand part 1
there are really no words to describe an experience like this. the food I mean. it was mind blowing, thought provoking and phucking enjoyable all at once. I actually walked past the place 2 days before I went, just to find it, and I saw inaki aizpitarte standing out the front. talk about getting a bit star struck!
actually the entire lead up to the dinner is almost equal in eventfullness as the dinner.
nothing goes smoothly when it comes to me.
so there are two sittings at le chateaubriand, the first at 7.30pm for bookings and the second from 9.30pm for no bookings. I did try calling to make a booking but obviously being the worlds 18th best restaurant, they were a bit busy. I got the metro to goncourt and arrived out the front of the restaurant to line up at 9.15. and the line wasn’t bad actually, I arrived as one of the waiters was counting the people and ensured us we would have a table.
I should mention I didn’t really eat lunch today because I knew I was coming here for dinner and a) should try to save stomach space, and b) to save money for the upcoming splurge on dinner. well I did eat special k, without milk, so it was kind of a snack… but it most definitely was not lunch.
I was standing behind 4 americans, who I started talking to after offering to take a photo for them. turns out they were in paris for a business meeting, which took all of an hour, then they went to the french open for the rest of the day, before lining up for dinner here. talk about living the life!
so we’re lining up, and its rather a warm night but I’m only wearing a dress… but definitely start getting pretty hot and bothered. not because of the fact I was standing in the same spot for almost an hour, but I was actually getting clammy and irritable and a little dizzy. but I mentally slapped myself in the face, thinking this is potentially the only time I will ever be able to eat here so suck it up and you’ll be fine. oh how wrong I was. we gradually start moving inside to stand at the bar whilst tables are leaving and being cleared for the next sitting. one american guy asked me if I’d like a glass of champagne to celebrate getting inside, to which I replied of course… even though all I wanted was a glass of water. the bar staff were run off their feet, so as I was waiting, things started going black and fuzzy, I couldn’t really hear properly and felt so faint it was horrible. so, in classic dramatic-vic fashion, I run out of the restaurant, past the long line of suckers who probably wouldn’t make it in, and sit down with my head between my legs. a really good sight for a girl in a dress. after recuperating a little, I felt better so went back inside to my ‘spot’. they asked me “wahhhhhts wrahhhhng?”, so I just said I was feeling really dizzy, so they tried to get some water for me. but to no avail. within 5 minutes the same thing happened again and I’m back to not being able to see or hear anything, so I do my dramatic escape (although this time, I tried to make it less dramatic than last time… no flailing arms) and went a bit further down the street to the milk bar where I downed one bottle of water and then half of a second. the relief was almost instant, except for the jitteriness and shakiness.
now if I had have been acting responsible like the newly graduated paramedic and nurse that I am, I would have quickly got my sugars up too by smashing a bag of chips… however, I was far too focused on the meal I was about to have… and for good phucking reason too.
so I re-enter, probably to the scorns of the suckers in line outside, to my new mates at the bar, where they shove a glass of champagne in my face and tell me that will cure me of anything wrong with me. I think I found the first group of americans I actually like. so I did, and just as we were toasting, tables became available and off we went. me to mine and them to theirs. they did offer for me to sit with them but being a fiercely independent woman, I politely declined and said they should enjoy their meal together as mates.
then the fun started.
paris – the food
the best part of any of my trips I’ve taken before has always been the food. like I said, you can forget the ins and outs of your day, but you never forget what you ate for dinner that night. or at least I never do.
I was pretty lucky that a good friend of mine gave me some recommendations of places to go and eat at, as well as good places for coffee. considering he’s a chef I could trust his judgement.
I just so happened to stumble over a few food markets on my many wanderings. the first, near république I think, was mind blowing. charcuterie, fromagerie, boulangerie, patisserie, seafooderie (clearly that’s not french, I just can’t remember)… clothes, flowers, everything. it felt so french, yet at the same time so very much vic market. lunch on this day was half a baguette, some sort of cheese and some prosciutto-like meat. dessert was a punnet of strawberries.
the cheeses selections from one of the fromageries at the market
a memorable experience would have to be sitting at café de flore for lunch and having soupe à l’oignon and a glass of chablis. actually by the end of my lunch, I’d had three or four glasses of wine – I can’t remember, and forgot all about the pain in my feet (open blisters are never fun, remember that).
a few fantastic cafés I did go to were kb caféshop in south pigalle. as well as coutume café near hôtel des invalides. amazing coffee, and I needed a fix. melbourne would be proud. they were so good I went to each twice, just to get my fill.
kb caféshop, with my favourite book
coutume café with bio granola, yogurt and roast apricot for breakfast
le garde robe was another recommendation. a bar that serves only natural wine, as well as delicious cheeses and meats. I rocked up and sat at the bar (which has to be my favourite place to sit in a restaurant, usually), and chatted to the bar staff about their wines.. when I say chat, that makes it sound easy, effortless. in my broken french, and their broken english, we definitely didn’t ‘chat’, but converse? yes.
then comes the time when I try to ask for the charcuterie assortment. not difficult to say in french, considering it sounds the same as it looks, but somehow I ended up with a beautiful plate of cucumber, salmon, fennel, rocket, dried beetroot and fennel seeds. I’m so not a salmon fan but I was kinda thinking, “either this is my phucking horrid french or she has no idea what I’ve been saying to her for the past 30 minutes and I don’t want to embarrass her” so I ate it. bravo me. but when I say salmon, I don’t mean those pathetic scrapings called smoked salmon (which if it had’ve been smoked salmon, I definitely couldn’t eat it) but the most silky smooth fat slices of raw salmon ever known to mankind. and I usually hate salmon. But the combination was amazing, even though I phucking hate salmon!
then came the time for cheese. I told her I don’t like blue cheese and then out comes this wooden platter with four different cheese on it. one was a cheddar with fresh pepper on top, another was a firm cheese washed w walnut (I think), another had ash through the centre and the last had fig leaves throughout. so so so good, but couldn’t finish – needed meagan with me to finish them for me!
then all of a sudden it was my last night in paris, and mid way through the phucking horrid task of re-packing my pack, I decided it was time to eat. so I got this, steak, chips, béarnaise, salad, bread and a jug of wine.
an excellent last supper in paris.
paris – the sights
here is probably the part where I should warn you, whoever you are, that I am a swearer. I swear a lot. this blog wouldn’t be authentic if I didn’t write it like I talk, so I apologise in advance. probably don’t read it to your kids, nieces or nephews as a bedtime story, just in case.
I arrived in paris at the ungodly hour of 0730am sunday morning. jet lagged, exhausted and emotional that I finally made it; I pulled myself together, had a shower to wash off the 24 hours of travel and got out to enjoy the bloody beautiful weather that paris put on for me. so I started walking. I don’t think there is a better way to explore a city than by aimlessly wandering around, taking in the sites and trying to get your bearings.
my apartment was in le marais area of paris, in my opinion has got to be one of the best parts. central, surrounded by restaurants and cafes, easy to get the metro from… a total win. infact from my window in my apartment I could see notre dame. if that doesn’t scream ‘you’re in paris’, nothing will (unless you stay at one of those decadent hotels that overlooks place de la concorde or the eiffel tower, I guess that would also scream paris).
view from my apartment
a massive paris highlight was getting to see passenger at le trabendo. there’s something seriously liberating about going to a gig on your own, particularly when you’re probably the only native english speaker in the place because you’re the only one singing every word to every song, not just the chorus of ‘let her go’. and the fact it was just mike and his guitar made it even more special, it was a celebration of his music, him sharing what he does best. it was phucking brilliant (yes I know how lame it is to spell fuck like that, but I don’t know who is gonna read this & my grandparents, should they ever get around to technology, don’t need to know how much I swear, or that I know how spell. and sometimes I feel it’s more confronting to see the word fuck written than when it’s actually said in person, I obviously use it as an adjective – it helps me describe things… I make no apologies).
like I wrote before, I walked the shit out of paris. walking from le marais up rue de rivoli to champ des mars/eiffel tower is a bloody long way but I always feel like you can better appreciate the city you’re in if you walk it’s streets. in my first few days of walking, my feet hardly hurt and I thoroughly enjoyed the sunshine. so then thursday morning when I got up, I thought “hey if I’m doing all this asking, perhaps I should wear my birkenstocks that I bought especially for my long days of walking”. fan-phucking-tastic idea victoria.
I read a quote on a coffee mug in one of those god awful tourist shops that said “a bad day in paris is still better than a good day anywhere else”. I really like the sentiment, except for the day I thought I’d dress like a hippy and wear my new birkenstocks because “they’re great walking shoes”… I would have rathered a shit day on nursing placement with an awful supervisor who quizzes you on every drug before you give it, than this day. 2 massive phuck-off blisters as well as a couple of baby onesis not how I imagined I would spend my last two days, hobbling around paris like one of many gypsies I saw on the way (doesn’t help that I also dress like them)
whenever I go away, I always have an amazing time – except for the time I got bali belly that lasted nearly 2 weeks from start to finish – but I sometimes forget the little things that I did or saw. but something I never forget.. food.
paris
I planned to do one blog post per city, but how is one supposed to condense one week in an incredible city into one blog post? impossible. so I’m separating them; the sights and the food. but when I say “the food”, I’m really only talking about my incredible experience at le chateaubriand – no. 18 in the worlds best restaurants. and maybe a few other memorable experiences, like le garde robe.
paris was beautiful, even more beautiful than when I was there in january. I’d have to say its probably because it was warm, sunny and happy. everyone’s happier when it’s warm (must be why aussies are such top blokes). I did so much exploring and I guess that’s the beauty of travelling alone… doing what you want, when you want, how you want.
I also walked the shit out of paris. I conquered it by foot. and thats probably putting it likely. but when my feet started falling apart, I conquered le metro as well.
on the plane from melbourne to paris, via kuala lumpur, I wrote a to do list. something I don’t usually do when I go overseas but when I was there in january, it was so rushed and quick, I felt like I didn’t see even a smidge of what I hoped to. this time, however would be different.
the list:
– la tour eiffel, again
– montmartre & pigalle
– versailles
– jardin des tuileries
– sacre coeur
– notre dame
– cafe de flore
– kb cafe
– coutume cafe
– le chateaubriand
– le garde robe
– passenger gig @ le trabendo
relatively simple. not extensive, particularly for 6 full days. and considering out of 12 things, 5 were food related, I could definitely get this shit done.
travelling alone 