Today’s itinerary:
Grand Palais
Petit Palais
Lance falls in love with the Alexandre III bridge
Place de la Concorde, where Marie Antoinette lost her head in a fashion most cruel (they faced her upright on the guillotine and used a dull blade that took somewhere between 3 and 6 tries to do the job, poor thing).
Subway over to the Louvre and a 5 minute walk to Kei, recommended by Aunt Hynda, who had been there the week before with her girls, celebrating birthdays. Ho, ho, this is serious Paris dining – Japanese/Asian fusion with an almost obsequious waitstaff. This restaurant is known for its artful combinations of crunchy and softy, tangy and sweet, all in incredibly artful presentation. And (as) if you need proof….
First course with wild beets and carrots in rice paper (floating above the leaves in the bowl) and creme of seafood in a light as air pastry shell, please two little puffs filled with parmesan cream:
the salade, with its foam dressing, the more you stir, the more flavor for the entire range of herbs and greens:
The plate is presented as above, the waitperson shows us this bowl, and then doles out to each of us a (light) batter fried artichoke heart that has been stuffed with iberian ham and i don’t know what kind of cheese:
Kombu salad with totally tender shrimp pieces, the remaining bodies are lightly flash-fried and served along with:
The fried bass, which he informs us should be eaten WITH the skin on (as if I’d do it any other way!) An oven roasted tomato and red pepper relish and a daub of chorizo paste on the lower right:
And finally, (I moved the top off to show you what’s underneath) a citron meringue top, with cinnamon ginger ice cream and a hazelnut cookie underneath).
One of the most fun things about the meal was the diners next to us. A very unique couple who met – with matching rings, hers on her pinky and his on his left hand ring finger – who were so obviously regulars and had an incredible flair in their make-up and costume, right down to his carrot cufflinks (not visible) and his wild socks (visible under table). The ribbon tied around her hair with a bow on top, the bright pink painted-on rouge and heavy dark eye make-up all made for quite an enjoyable Paris moment. Bill Cunningham would love them!
Then the metro back to the Concorde stop and we head over to wait for entry to L’Orangerie.
Such a lovely museum and a jewel of a collection of the impressionists; All from one woman and her two husbands! Some of my favorites:
M. Renoir
M. Modigliani:
and Michael’s main man:
then we meandered through Jardin des Tuileries and enjoy the families, the sculptures, benches and….wait, what’s this? Ooh, I want to go!
and twilight descends as we walked past the Louvre:
and nightfall as we crossed a bridge over the Seine:
and walk down a street chock full of art galleries to make our 7:30 reservation at the chef’s table (basically sitting up on barstools watching chef’s prepare dinners. They had thought I might be upset with that position, but it was heavenly) at Semilla, one of our most incredible dining experience. Similar in creativity and presentation to Kei, but so much warmer and friendly. Put on your safety belt, it’s going to be a long view:
I continually asked the sous-chef on the left”wu’est-ce que c’est ca?” And he was lovely and answered. We watched so many awesome looking dishes fly out of the kitchen, and were delighted twice to realize that something intriguing they were preparing was ours!
My yummy ceviche, which they mixed in front of me, with citron syrup, chervil, grated coconut, and topped with a gelatin made from lemon and something else i’ve forgotten:
and Lance’s shallot creme on the plate, with both pickled and roasted mushrooms, carmelized shallots and (will fill this in later when I review the menu, which of course, I photographed):
They’re still working away while I’m moaning over the food.
And then comes my main (a second starter): a bed of polenta with local cheese, ringed with sauteed wild mushrooms, greens and oil on top, with a poached egg in the middle. The most beautiful dish I’ve had!
Dessert is choux (creme puff) filled with hzelnut mousse and decorated with figs:
I ordered a second dessert, a pear and almond tart, but it didn’t measure up and was quickly tossed aside!
Many thank-you’s all around (including the chef complimenting me by saying most Americans don’t bother to learn French, and that I spoke it very well), we head out. We wander through little alleyways and crowded tourist strees and then head into and down the winding stone stairwell of Le Caveau des Oubliettes (cave of the forgotten ones, where prisoners used to be chained to the walls) and enjoy a soul/jazz band for their first set. Everyone is sitting together and swaying to the music and what a congenial atmosphere. It makes me wonder why there aren’t really small clubs like that in Boulder or Denver, for local bands.
