F Train to Paris

In which a Jewish family from Brooklyn moves to Paris, France for two years of work, school, and adventures.

 

On Saturday afternoon, I experienced the most frightening moment of my life. As I watched from the next room, the kitchen door came right off its hinges and crashed down on top of 6-year-old E., who had just yanked it open. The door is at least 8 feet tall, solid wood, and extremely heavy. I virtually flew across the room and lifted the door off my child, having no idea what I would find underneath. Thank God, E. was fine. He was terrified, and had a little trouble breathing at first, but aside from a few scratches he seemed unhurt. His glasses weren't even broken. I took him to the emergency room at Necker Children's Hospital anyway, because we were worried about internal injuries.

I also thought his hand might have been broken, because he held it gingerly all the way to the hospital. In fact, the doctors checked him out and sent him home with a clean bill of health. No one could believe he escaped with nothing more than a scratch on his shoulder and a scrape on his finger. By then, he had completely recovered his spirits, and I took him straight to a birthday party, where he danced and played all afternoon. I stayed to keep an eye on him--he might have recovered, but I certainly hadn't. (I'm just beginning to be able to look at him without getting tears in my eyes.)

The party was at a beautiful chocolate store/salon de the on the avenue Victor Hugo called Boissier. The food was fabulous--they had platters of macarons, fancy artisanal marshmellows (like no marshmellows you've ever tasted), and other treats, all of them way too good for the kids. The birthday boy's parents were very kind to me and didn't make me feel uncomfortable, although the only other adults around were relatives.

So, life goes on. I keep reliving seeing that door fall on him, but I guess eventually I'll get past that.

On Sunday, we went to the Ferme de Gally, a farm near Versailles where you can pick your own fruits and vegetables. We took a wheelbarrow and loaded it up with swiss chard, spinach, onions, lettuce, rhubarb, and a few peapods--the birds had eaten most of them. After we paid for our produce (about 10 euros for everything!), we drove down the road to another part of the farm, where they keep the animals and hold children's workshops in breadbaking, butter churning, and other farm activities. We had hoped to sign E. up for butter churning, but the workshop was full. So we visited the donkey, pigs, sheep, and cows, and walked on a little nature trail through the woods. As we made our way back to the entrance, a flock of goats came wandering right down the road, including hugely pregnant moms, and several adorable new  babies. The adult goats presented themselves for petting (clearly they were used to humans) but the babies were freaked out by all the attention.

Yesterday I gave myself a break--after dropping E. off at school, I took myself out for coffee at Eric Kayser and read Middlemarch for literary salon, went to a dance class, and did some grocery shopping (I found myself buying lots of junk food).

Today, I had a fabulous lunch with two friends at Vegetable, a temporary restaurant that's open through next week on the third floor of Printemps Maison. The chef is Alain Passard, and the food--totally vegetarian--is straight off the menu at his three star, ultra-expensive restaurant, Arpege, but at a fraction of the price. I read about it on Clothilde's blog, and am grateful to her for steering me there. If you're in Paris, go right away!

Ralph and I just got home from a concert at the Theatre du Chatelet, a beautiful 19th century theater not far from the Louvre, right across from the Place du Chatelet fountains. The Philharmonia Orchestra, conducted by Sir Andrew Davis, played Sibelius, Richard Strauss, and Beethoven. It was a lovely concert.

But lest you think that my life is entirely about gourmet food and high culture (when I'm not rescuing children pinned under doors), I spent the rest of the day doing freelance editing, volunteering at the Eurecole library, and taking R. to the orthodontist.

posted by: pariskleinmans at 22:01 | link | comments (4) |

 As our departure gets closer, our schedule is becoming more crowded. The pages of my agenda for May and June are full of cooking classes, walking tours, dinners, theater, and concerts. We can't possibly squeeze everything we want to do and see in Paris into the next two months, but we're going to try!

Over the past two years, we've traveled extensively in Europe, although not too much in France itself.  To remedy that, we're planning a three-week road trip around eastern France this summer, after our belongings have been shipped. Our last (for now) trip to another European city was a long weekend in Amsterdam over the Ascension holiday, May 5-8. It was a holiday in Amsterdam, too-- the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Holland. A friend who moved from Paris to Amsterdam had said that the city would be empty over the holiday weekend, but in fact we found it packed with tourists. It was hard to find a hotel, and there were long lines at all the museums.

We stayed in an apartment on a small street between the Singel and Herrengracht canals. The apartment was a bit dingy and gloomy, but the location was very convenient, and we were able to walk everywhere. In fact, although the weather was chilly and rainy, we only took a tram once, on the way back from the Albert Cuypmarket where we shopped for our Shabbat meals. Our kids are great walkers and hardly ever complain.

Amsterdam is a clean, charming, lively city, where virtually everyone speaks English well and seems happy to do so. There's great ethnic food of every variety--we ate Indonesian, we found a great vegetarian restaurant that reminded us of Moosewood, and we ate plenty of bagels. At the market, we ate raw herring sandwiches, and we found a cheese seller who sold only Gouda, but dozens of varieties and ages. We bought three big wedges: an aged one, a young one, and a cumin one. Everyone liked the aged Gouda best, but we devoured all three.

Besides doing lots and lots of walking, mostly along the canals, we visited the city's main museums: the Rijksmuseum (which is closed for renovation except for one wing, where they have hung the highlights of the collection, including plenty of Rembrandts, Vermeers, and Hals),  the Van Gogh Museum, and the highlight of the trip, for me, the Anne Frank House.

It was Anne Frank who inspired this trip. I first read the diary in 7th grade, and it immediately influenced my own diary, which I began to address as Kitty, just like Anne did. I also tried to be a more interesting diarist, writing about my feelings and my impressions of the people around me, instead of just reporting on what I had done that day. (Of course, I couldn't possibly compete with a girl forced into hiding by the Nazis, and my diary seemed pitifully boring in comparison). I have reread Anne's diary many times, and just before the trip I read the recent edition that incorporates material Anne's father edited out of the original version.

Having "lived" in the Secret Annex with Anne so many times--climbing those stairs with her to visit Peter, sitting at the table peeling potatoes, trying to sleep while Mr. Dussell snored just across the room--it was unbelievable to actually walk through those rooms. The lines are long, and the tiny apartment is crowded with other visitors, but I found the visit so moving. I tried unsuccessfully to get the older boys to read the diary before we went, but at least they listened to Anne's story, and of course they have heard a lot about the Holocaust. It's hard to tell whether the visit was meaningful to them--certainly E. was mystified and bored by the whole thing.

On the train ride back to Paris (four hours), we met two charming young men from India who had just graduated from college in the U.S. and were treating themselves to a trip around Europe. They had spent two days in Amsterdam, and told us they had run out of things to do. They found Amsterdam boring. We were surprised to hear this, not only because we found the city so interesting, but because there was an entire aspect of it that we ignored--the red light district, nightclubs, coffeeshops that sell pot and hash--which we'd have thought would appeal to people their age. They got off the train at Brussels, and were going on to Madrid and Barcelona, then to Italy. I hope they're having a great time.

posted by: pariskleinmans at 21:57 | link | comments (1) |

Tonight is "La Nuit des Musees," and over a thousand museums throughout Europe are open, many of them free, until 1am. Dozens of Paris museums are participating. For our family, this event provided an interesting  way to spend the last few hours of a long, long Shabbat, which ends just after 10pm at this time of year. A number of museums are within walking distance of our home, so we had an early dinner and then headed over to the Musee Guimet, which houses a collection of Asian art. There was a line to get in, but it was not too long and moved quickly. About a third of the museum was closed, but we spent about an hour seeing the rest of the collection, featuring mostly sculptures from Cambodia, Thailand, China, Tibet, and Nepal.

Shabbat was still not quite over, and we had promised the kids that we'd stop by the video store and go out for dessert. To kill a little more time, we went (over tired E.'s very strong objections) to the Musee Galliera, a fashion museum located in a beautiful mansion that happens to be directly on the way from the Musee Guimet to the video store. This museum is open only when there is a temporary exhibit; the current one seems to be about French and Dutch fashion in the 18th century, but we rushed through it and it was packed.  I'll have to go back when I have more time, no tired children with me, and the crowds are a bit thinner.

posted by: pariskleinmans at 22:13 | link | comments (1) |

Passover is  over, and we have survived. Over the course of eight days, we (with plenty of guests to help us out) consumed about 10 boxes of matzo, over 100 eggs, and not a single baguette or croissant. It's hard to celebrate Passover in Paris with the intoxicating smell of forbidden chametz everywhere, but it can be done, and with the help of our friends, we did it. You'll forgive me for a being a little obsessed with food today. After Passover, that's perfectly  normal.

Our seders were especially nice this year. E. sang  the "Mah Nishtana"  perfectly and with tremendous poise (all that practicing paid off). In fact, all the boys, and especially J., participated, sang, and made us proud. Our friends from NY, Debra and Arnie and their son Sam, spent Passover in Paris and joined us at both seders. It was wonderful to have them here.  In addition, our French friends Gilles and Anne came the first night (it was Anne's very first seder), and Lara, Bradley and Sasha, our South African friends by way of Brooklyn, came the second night. All of them made contributions that enhanced our seders and made us feel surrounded by friends. It was especially great to have Bradley sing us the tunes his family sang at their seders in Durban. Sorry we put you on the spot, Brad!

Planning vegetarian seders is a challenge, since staples such as pasta, rice, beans, and all grains are forbidden. I have a great recipe (based on one from Mollie Katzen's Still Life with Menu) for a matzo kugel that's rather like a bread pudding, which I make with mushrooms and gruyere. And I always serve lots of roasted vegetables--parsnips, fennel, onion, red peppers, asparagus, etc. One night I made a  vegetable broth with matzo balls as a starter. And Debra made a fantastic Gratin Dauphinois for the second seder.

Desserts can be the trickiest part of the meal--my mother used to say that kosher-for-Pesach desserts taste like the Sunday New York Times. Over the years I've accumulated some good recipes and ideas, and Debra brought me some more. We made chocolate-dipped strawberries and matzo-raisin-nut clusters (also from Mollie Katzen), jam bars, a flourless chocolate cake, toffee bars, and walnut cookies. I tried making meringues a couple of times, but they were not successful.

Enough about that; our normal lives have now resumed--except that E. is still on vacation, so my normal, independent life will not resume until next week. For the moment, I am experiencing Paris through the eyes of a six year old. So far this week we have seen the movie Robots (in French), had a playdate with a 7-year-old buddy, and had an especially packed day today (see the report at the end of this post).

My friend Debra arrived with a list of the best places in Paris to drink hot chocolate, so that, of course, was a great topic of debate during her visit. Carette wasn't on her list, but I insisted she had to try their chocolat chaud, especially since she was staying right nearby. To you, dear reader who perhaps also loves hot chocolate, I recommend both the aforementioned Carette (on the Place du Trocadero) and  my favorite Paris salon de the, Les Deux Abeilles in the 7th (189 rue de l'Universite, near the Eiffel Tower. Have a piece of their amazing chestnut cake or fruit crumble, too.) Anyway, one of the top spots, according to Debra's list, was completely unknown to me--a place in the Auteuil neighborhood of the 16th, not too far from here. I forgot the name, and instead of emailing her to ask about it, I wasted about an hour online trying to figure it out. Later, my friend Kate told me that in her opinion, the best hot chocolate could be had, of all places, at the cafe Le Grand Corona at the Place de l'Alma. So of course I had to head over there yesterday, especially since my children were pressuring me to go to the video store (right near Alma) to rent them some more episodes of Friends, their current obsession.

Well. Perhaps Le Grand Corona is not up to the Carette/Deux Abeilles standard, but not bad! You get a small pitcher of thick, dark melted chocolate, and a larger pitcher of hot milk to blend as you choose. For my first post-Passover hot chocolate, it was quite a treat.

This afternoon, E. and I attended a parent/enfant cooking class at the Atelier des Chefs. What fun! We made a lovely presentation of  crudites arranged decoratively in a hollowed-out tomato, strawberry sorbet, and a pear almond tart. E. had a ball. His cutting skills are quite good for one so young. Earlier in the day, E. went to a workshop at the Musee des Arts Decoratif (which has a wonderful kids' program called Artdecojeune), where he made a toy on wheels. This museum is part of a complex of small museums in a wing of the Louvre palace, along the rue de Rivoli. Afterward, we had lunch at the Louvre food court, then went to the Musee de la Publicite (advertising). I wouldn't say it is worth a detour, to use Michelin terminology, but it helped us kill some time between activities. We would have gone to the Tuilieries instead, but  it was raining. 

posted by: pariskleinmans at 21:18 | link | comments (2) |