Spending Spree

Since Joe has nearly squandered the kids' inheritance on cookware, clothing, booze and duck fat, I thought I had better get shopping before the money has run dry.

As most of you know, my favourite places on earth are junk stores and antique shops (with junk in the lead by a mile). So that's where we could be found on Monday...at the world famous 'Marche aux Puces' on the outskirts of Paris.

Unfortunately many of the shops were closed, it being August and all. But that did not deter me.

I am currently reading 'A Moveable Feast' by Ernest Hemingway and I learned that in the 1920s and 1930s drinks in Parisian bars were served on small saucers with the price of the drink stamped onto the edge of the saucer. You can imagine my pleasure when I found a dusty stack of these little plates under a table.

My purchase came to a whopping 10 euros.

I am such a cheap date.

Brunch With Friends

On Sunday, Joe and I hosted the Bradfords at our apartment for brunch. I met Tara two years ago through her blog "Paris Parfait". (To check out her fabulous blog click here.) When we were in Paris in 2007, she and her husband kindly invited us for lunch and we wanted to repay the favour this year.

Joe was anxious to try out his new crepe pan that he bought at E. Dehellerin a couple of weeks ago. Brunch was a simple meal of crepes, fresh fruit, yogurt, and lots of strong coffee. Our conversation swirled around our families, American and French politics, books we were reading, and retirement plans.

It is comforting to have new friends when you're on the other side of the world.

I'll be meeting Tara again for lunch later on in the week. I am looking forward to it.

A Moveable Feast

In the early 1920s, Ernest Hemingway wrote, "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast."

I Heart Paris #3

Another few reasons I love Paris...

• There are over 20 different kinds and styles of butter in the grocery stores.

• Young people under the age of 25 get into museums free.

• Even the ticket stubs have works of art on them.

• Entire shops here are devoted to mustard. At 'Maille' people bring in their own containers to fill from the vats of mustard on tap. Joe bought a little jar of dried apricot and curry mustard to take home with us.
  

Stopping for directions, expensive directions

Be careful where you stop and ask for help, especially when it's a Producteur de Foie Gras. The picture to the right shows the result - directions that cost me $120. I bought cassoulet au confit de canard, foie gras, two types of rillette de canard, confiture cassis et pomme, and my prized catch - Graisse de Canard (pure duck fat).

Editor's Note:
I have two questions for you Joe....
1. How the heck are we going to fit all the cookware, booze and food into our suitcases?
2. Aren't you at all concerned that we're going to be waaaaaaay over our weight allotment?

Mont Saint Michel

We left the D-Day beaches and headed west toward Mont Saint Michel, a popular pilgrimage centre since 708 AD. (You can see it in the background of the photo.) We booked ourselves into another 'chambres d'hotes' and started exploring. We went to Mont Saint Michel just as the sun was dipping below the horizon, which was a perfect time to visit the island and abbey as most of the tourists were leaving.

As we wound our way through the abbey working our way to the top, musicians were performing at various spots. It was so relaxing to sit and listen to them play their instruments in such an incredible setting.

We left for Paris the next morning and just as we were pulling out onto the narrow road I heard some sheep bleating. A shepherd was taking his flock across the road to graze in the fields beyond. I hopped out of the car, camera in hand, and shot the above photo. Sheep that feed on the salt marsh grasses that surround Mont Saint Michel are prized for their taste. Who knew?

Thank you, Normandy. We had a great time.

Le Grand Abbaye

Oh sure. 'Monsieur Guest Blogger' is too tired to write a post about our morning at Le Grand Abbaye. (Sheesh! I have to do everything around here.)

Now, where was I in this long-winded story? Oh yes, it's all coming back to me now......

We followed Monsieur et Madame's car over hill and through dale for 45 minutes until we came to 'Le Grand Abbaye'. We drove through an ancient gate in a stone wall and parked. The Remarquiers introduced us to their friend Monsieur Letouze. We bid adieu to our B&B hosts with heartfelt bisous (double cheek kisses) all around.

'Le Grand Abbaye' was once an abbey in the 1200s, but was converted to a farm in the 1600s. Monsieur Letouze was born on this farm.

We thought (wrongly) that we'd do a little tasting of M. Letouze's products, buy some bottles and be on our way. Mais non, mes amies! Because we were introduced by the Remarquiers, Monsieur Letouze gave us a 2 hour tour of his property.

Now remember, this tour was conducted entirely in French. M. Letouze was kind enough to speak very slowly with us and (bless his soul) he also used his hands a lot. He showed us everything. His orchard with 2,000 apple trees. His acreage where people camped. His apple press. The 800 year old granary. The medieval stone house where bread is baked once a week. The storage rooms full of ancient oak barrels full of cider, pommeau and calvados. (Side note: whenever we were in the rooms with barrels or vats, we all had to sample his wares. Not that I'm complaining mind you.)

M. Letouze kept asking me, "Are you interested in medieval architecture?" When my answer was a resounding "Oui!" off we'd go to another area of his farm to show me where the chapel once stood or the abbey altar which is now housed in a stable.

Once we were given a proper tour of the farm, we were ushered into monsieur's 800 year old home to taste his products. It was at this point I mentioned (en francais) to his wife that our house in Canada was a whopping 30 years old. She sweetly smiled and shrugged.

We first started with cider. It was very good. (We bought 2 bottles.) Then we tasted some 'pommeau'. It was really good. (We bought 4 bottles.) Then we tried his calvados. Super good! (We bought 2 bottles of that to take home with us.) How the hell we're going to drink all of that booze before we fly home is beyond me. But like the saying goes: Where there's a will, there's a way.

It was a very special morning for us.

I love French people.