Still oh so excited to be in Paris, I got up early to look out at the world below. Very little activity, a noisy garbage truck, a tall handsome Frenchman with salt & pepper hair rollerbladed past at a pretty good clip. I could not get dressed fast enough to chase him down and marry him. A man after my own heart. What could be better than a Frenchman on roller skates? AND he wasn't smoking!
This morning I went back to St Eustache for a second look. Simply too beautiful for words. A Keith Haring tryptich in a side chapel. A yellow neon ladder suspended from the ceiling, created by an Austrian woman for the Paris Olympics. The church was where St Vincent de Paul got his start, of special significance to me because my mother worked for St Vincent de Paul for 40 years. Not him personally, the Organization.
I decided to make the pilgrimage to 27 rue de Fleurus, home of Gertrude Stein & Alice B Toklas. On the way, I passed Dehillerin, an old world kitchen supply store. To be clear, this is no William Sonoma. It’s dark, messy and dusty, more like a mashup of an old timey hardware store and a culinary hoarder’s paradise. Narrow aisles, floor to ceiling shelves laden with shiny copper pots of every size and conformation. It was heaven. I imagined the chefs from all over the world that have a favorite kitchen utensil from there and a story to tell.
Peeked in at the church of St German des pres. expecting more gothic. I was delighted to see the blue ceilimg bespeckled with stars, very reminiscent of churches in Italy and very familiar.
Stood at the doorway of 27 Rue de Fleurus and imagined all the heavyweights from the art, music and literary world that passed through the gates, Paul Cézanne, Henri Matisse, Pable Picasso, James Joyce, Ernest Hemingway, Francis Picabia, Jean Cocteau the list goes on and on. Dined on a grilled vegetable salad and creme brulee at the corner bistro called La Gorgee (22rue de Fleurus, 6 arrondissment) Imagined Gertrude and Alice eating there too. Alice was famous for omelets made with a pound of butter. I hope that’s not true.
On the way home, I bought a brioche for breakfast and popped into the Musee Maillol on impulse. There was a photo exhibit by Andres Serrano which was interesting but shocking. Maillol’s work on the other hand, was delightful. His muse and model was Dina Vierny who, as she said, came for one hour but stayed 10 years. He said of her, there are only three flowers: the rose the carnation, and Dina. Pretty sweet really.
Topped off the evening with a sumptuous lobster at the Café de la Paix with my high school friend and her daughter. A delightful evening of catching up and reminiscing about IC High. Her daughter lives in Paris, speaks French, Spanish, Italian and …English.
