Tuesday, March 16, 2004
They are smiling inside, I just know it.
Today was our first rather spring-like day, with temps in the low 60s and radiant sunshine. The Parisians were out in force, squinting into the sunlight after a cold, dark winter. Most were still dressed in their heavy coats, as if they could not quite bring themselves to believe that printemps might be right around the corner. If we were in the States, the smiles would be competing with the brilliance of the sun on a day like this. But not here. More proof that the French just don't use the smile to express pleasure or happiness the way we expect. There did seem to be joviality in the air, and I swear I detected an extra spring in the step of les gens on the the street, but les visages were the same as if they were discussing a business brief. But on the inside, the smiles are there. I just know it.
Thursday, February 12, 2004
You will pardon me if I now step back and take some time to GLOAT.
Here we are in the culinary capital of the world. Yes, yes, you can argue that Paris lost it's superior culinary status awhile back with the rise of gastronomic genius elsewhere, such as Spain, Switzerland, the US, and heavens-to-betsy, even Great Britain. But the fact is, Paris is still le premier chef. As Adam Gopnik notes in his book, Paris to the Moon, while other cities have their few shining jewels of truly transcendant cooking, there are more fabulous meals to be had in Paris, on practically every street corner. Heck, even the 5 course meals (I'm not kidding) that Meredith gets for lunch every day at her public school would be a 100 bucks a head in NYC.
And I haven't even started to describe the absolutely incredible boulangeries (bakeries) and patisseries (pastry shops), with fresh baked goodies coming right out of the ovens in the back every morning. Just the smell is enough to make you swoon. Real croissants are light and flaky, not doughy, and crusty just on the outside and made with lots of farm-fresh butter.
So I'm gloating about being in a gourmand's paradise? Not at all, we're lucky to be here are we know it. What I want to gloat about is that we have availed ourselves of the food, the pastries, the baked goods on a regular basis and we've LOST WEIGHT.
I'm not kidding when I tell you that I have eaten croissant and chausson aux pommes (apple pastry) most days for breakfast, and have a (usually chocolatey) something for dessert every day almost without fail. And I definitely do not starve in between. But I'm now almost 40 lbs lighter than I was at my heaviest, and weigh the same pants size that I did when I graduated high school. Cathy looks trimmer and fitter than I've ever seen her. Now we had both lost some weight, courtesy of Atkins, before we left the States. But about a month after we moved, I had to go out and buy new pants, as I had dropped two sizes. Surprised the heck out of me. Cathy had a little shopping spree for her birthday in November, and now the (intentionally, pleasingly) form-fitting pants she bought are loose on her. And no, we haven't turned into fitness freaks. Not in this city, where stretching is considered a form of exercise. Well, Cathy is doing yoga classes 3-4x/week, but she had been doing that for years in NY. Me, I can't stick to an exercise regimen even with a bathtub-ful of SuperGlue. So what's the secret? Stay tuned...
Here we are in the culinary capital of the world. Yes, yes, you can argue that Paris lost it's superior culinary status awhile back with the rise of gastronomic genius elsewhere, such as Spain, Switzerland, the US, and heavens-to-betsy, even Great Britain. But the fact is, Paris is still le premier chef. As Adam Gopnik notes in his book, Paris to the Moon, while other cities have their few shining jewels of truly transcendant cooking, there are more fabulous meals to be had in Paris, on practically every street corner. Heck, even the 5 course meals (I'm not kidding) that Meredith gets for lunch every day at her public school would be a 100 bucks a head in NYC.
And I haven't even started to describe the absolutely incredible boulangeries (bakeries) and patisseries (pastry shops), with fresh baked goodies coming right out of the ovens in the back every morning. Just the smell is enough to make you swoon. Real croissants are light and flaky, not doughy, and crusty just on the outside and made with lots of farm-fresh butter.
So I'm gloating about being in a gourmand's paradise? Not at all, we're lucky to be here are we know it. What I want to gloat about is that we have availed ourselves of the food, the pastries, the baked goods on a regular basis and we've LOST WEIGHT.
I'm not kidding when I tell you that I have eaten croissant and chausson aux pommes (apple pastry) most days for breakfast, and have a (usually chocolatey) something for dessert every day almost without fail. And I definitely do not starve in between. But I'm now almost 40 lbs lighter than I was at my heaviest, and weigh the same pants size that I did when I graduated high school. Cathy looks trimmer and fitter than I've ever seen her. Now we had both lost some weight, courtesy of Atkins, before we left the States. But about a month after we moved, I had to go out and buy new pants, as I had dropped two sizes. Surprised the heck out of me. Cathy had a little shopping spree for her birthday in November, and now the (intentionally, pleasingly) form-fitting pants she bought are loose on her. And no, we haven't turned into fitness freaks. Not in this city, where stretching is considered a form of exercise. Well, Cathy is doing yoga classes 3-4x/week, but she had been doing that for years in NY. Me, I can't stick to an exercise regimen even with a bathtub-ful of SuperGlue. So what's the secret? Stay tuned...
Wednesday, February 4, 2004
Le Boob Tube
I hear tell that something exciting happened during the Super Bowl a few days ago. I didn't get to see the game myself because we've got a 6 hour time difference from the East Coast, and the game would have ended around 4am. As I had class the next day and am generally still a responsible student, I opted out. But let's see, what was all that hubbub about? Was it the exciting, hard-hitting game, that came down to the final 4 seconds? Was it a bumper crop of outrageously expensive ads? No, it was a flash of flesh, or a "wardrobe malfunction", or something to that effect. A woman's bare breast was exposed, along with it's decorative nipple-piercing (Yes, it's quite clear from the close-up photos that I got via email --Thanks, Dad!-- that it's a piercing, there is a metal rod straight thru Janet's nipple. Ouch!) According to Lycos (and I imagine every other search engine), it has now become the most searched for subject in search engine history, surpassing "September 11". Tivo reports that it was the most replayed bit of TV since they starting keeping track of these things several years ago. And all on public television.
And the French all... yawn. And shake their heads at those Americans getting all worked up about a little bare skin on TV. Actually, the vast majority of Fronchy folk probably don't know about the Flash Seen Around The World, because believe it or not, it wouldn't make the news. Or if it did, it wouldn't be about the incident but all of the American reaction to it. Nudity and sexuality are just viewed differently here. Right now there is an ad in practically every Metro (subway) station in Paris by Au Printemps, one of the Grand department stores (think the NYC Bloomingdales or Saks). The ad features a ivory-skinned young woman sitting on a washing machine wearing nothing but a gauzy, short bridal veil. Viewed from the back, her bare bottom is in full view, as the already-transparent veil doesn't even go down that far. This is not out of the ordinary. Actually the most nudity I've seen is in the display window of practically every corner pharmacy, where the products being hawked are for creams and toners and other goop that will eradicate cellulite, enhance busoms, and generally take years off. But the French penchant for all these beauty products are for another post.
But for a more apropos comparison to the Super Bowl incident, take as an example the movie that Cathy and I watched on TV this past fall. It's called "1900", and is a French film by Bernardo Bertolucci that came out in 1976. I won't bore you with the details, but there was some nudity, including the full-frontal nudity of two men in the same bed. And before your naughty minds jump to conclusions, there was an equally naked woman between them in the bed. And again, before your naughty minds stray into taboo territory (am I too late?) nothing was happening. They were all just lying there, talking. The weird thing was that we recognized both of the men (and no, not because they were naked). Gerard Depardieu was one, but no surprise there, he's been in every French film ever made in the past 30 years, right? But the other one was more of a shock. Robert DeNiro. Did we know DeNiro was ever in a French film, ever fully-naked in a French film? Did we know DeNiro could speak French? Did we know that according to the IMDb, that DeNiro and Depardieu have made FOUR films together? Burt Lancaster was also in the film, as was Donald Sutherland. But back to my point. I do not raise this example because there was nudity in a French film. No, nothing unusual about that. (And no, it's not required. There are plenty of French films with no nudity whatsoever). The point is that the film was being shown, unedited, on a public television station, during prime time. From 8-10pm, which I'm guessing falls within the time that Janet and Justin were doing their thing.
And you would think that all of this exposure to nudity would make the French (and Europeans in general) all hypersexual. Isn't the case. In fact, they are much more laid back about sexuality and sex than Americans. In an unexpected twist, the French think that Americans are the ones who are sex-crazed...
And the French all... yawn. And shake their heads at those Americans getting all worked up about a little bare skin on TV. Actually, the vast majority of Fronchy folk probably don't know about the Flash Seen Around The World, because believe it or not, it wouldn't make the news. Or if it did, it wouldn't be about the incident but all of the American reaction to it. Nudity and sexuality are just viewed differently here. Right now there is an ad in practically every Metro (subway) station in Paris by Au Printemps, one of the Grand department stores (think the NYC Bloomingdales or Saks). The ad features a ivory-skinned young woman sitting on a washing machine wearing nothing but a gauzy, short bridal veil. Viewed from the back, her bare bottom is in full view, as the already-transparent veil doesn't even go down that far. This is not out of the ordinary. Actually the most nudity I've seen is in the display window of practically every corner pharmacy, where the products being hawked are for creams and toners and other goop that will eradicate cellulite, enhance busoms, and generally take years off. But the French penchant for all these beauty products are for another post.
But for a more apropos comparison to the Super Bowl incident, take as an example the movie that Cathy and I watched on TV this past fall. It's called "1900", and is a French film by Bernardo Bertolucci that came out in 1976. I won't bore you with the details, but there was some nudity, including the full-frontal nudity of two men in the same bed. And before your naughty minds jump to conclusions, there was an equally naked woman between them in the bed. And again, before your naughty minds stray into taboo territory (am I too late?) nothing was happening. They were all just lying there, talking. The weird thing was that we recognized both of the men (and no, not because they were naked). Gerard Depardieu was one, but no surprise there, he's been in every French film ever made in the past 30 years, right? But the other one was more of a shock. Robert DeNiro. Did we know DeNiro was ever in a French film, ever fully-naked in a French film? Did we know DeNiro could speak French? Did we know that according to the IMDb, that DeNiro and Depardieu have made FOUR films together? Burt Lancaster was also in the film, as was Donald Sutherland. But back to my point. I do not raise this example because there was nudity in a French film. No, nothing unusual about that. (And no, it's not required. There are plenty of French films with no nudity whatsoever). The point is that the film was being shown, unedited, on a public television station, during prime time. From 8-10pm, which I'm guessing falls within the time that Janet and Justin were doing their thing.
And you would think that all of this exposure to nudity would make the French (and Europeans in general) all hypersexual. Isn't the case. In fact, they are much more laid back about sexuality and sex than Americans. In an unexpected twist, the French think that Americans are the ones who are sex-crazed...
Tuesday, February 3, 2004
Galettes des rois
So we returned to Paris on January 9th, and were surprised to find that Three Kings Day (or Epiphany, or Twelfth Night, take your pick) is still in full swing here. There were no signs of it before we left (on December 20th), so this was a new cultural experience for us.
The main feature of the celebration involves the consumption of Galettes des rois (that’s French for “King’s Cookies”). They are made and sold in pastry shops, mostly, but mass-produced galettes are available in our local chain supermarket.
The galette is a round flaky pastry filled with “frangipan” (an almond butter likely akin to marzipan) produced in a variety of sizes (the smallest, for two people, is just a bit bigger than a doughnut). The larger sizes (for 4, 6, or 8 people) come with a paper crown. Inside each galette is hidden a prize – a porcelain coin or figurine. In the most traditional serving of the galette, the youngest child in the family hides under the table and directs the person slicing the galette on the distribution around the table, giving the impression that the prize recipient is not dictated by the slicer.
Whoever gets the prize is the king and gets to wear the crown. Lots of kids have shown up wearing said crowns to Meredith’s school. Some of the crowns are really cheap and even sport Disney characters around them. The one we got from a nice bakery on a beautiful market street came with a very pretty fleur-de-lys (lily, the emblem of France) model.
It’s more of a breakfast pastry than dessert, but quite delicious. They were still available through the end of January, but I think they're finally gone now. Talk about stretching out your holidays! Bon appétit!
The main feature of the celebration involves the consumption of Galettes des rois (that’s French for “King’s Cookies”). They are made and sold in pastry shops, mostly, but mass-produced galettes are available in our local chain supermarket.
The galette is a round flaky pastry filled with “frangipan” (an almond butter likely akin to marzipan) produced in a variety of sizes (the smallest, for two people, is just a bit bigger than a doughnut). The larger sizes (for 4, 6, or 8 people) come with a paper crown. Inside each galette is hidden a prize – a porcelain coin or figurine. In the most traditional serving of the galette, the youngest child in the family hides under the table and directs the person slicing the galette on the distribution around the table, giving the impression that the prize recipient is not dictated by the slicer.
Whoever gets the prize is the king and gets to wear the crown. Lots of kids have shown up wearing said crowns to Meredith’s school. Some of the crowns are really cheap and even sport Disney characters around them. The one we got from a nice bakery on a beautiful market street came with a very pretty fleur-de-lys (lily, the emblem of France) model.
It’s more of a breakfast pastry than dessert, but quite delicious. They were still available through the end of January, but I think they're finally gone now. Talk about stretching out your holidays! Bon appétit!
Monday, February 2, 2004
Christmas in Disneyland, Paris…
So we went to check out what the Happiest Place in France had up its sleeve for the Holiday Season, and – long story short - we were not disappointed!
Long story: Decided not to get up super early, as the park doesn’t even open until 10 on the week days. We were able to check out a lot of the activities in advance on the Disneyland website, and tried to organize our day accordingly. Fortunately, the weather was clear and sunny and not too cold during the daylight hours.
Soon after we arrived, Meredith and I rode Peter Pan’s flight while Bill picked up FastPasses to the popular rides and then got in line to meet Santa. Turns out, it was the line to meet Pooh Bear (in a scarf) AND Santa. Most of the families didn’t really care about meeting Santa at all, they just wanted to meet Winnie L’Ourson.
Santa, or Papa Noël, as he’s known in France, is not a rotund fellow. In fact, he’s quite slim. He does wear the requisite red suit trimmed in fur and sports a bushy white beard and moustache, but he’s not especially jolly. No ho-ho-ho-ing emerged from within. Friendly enough, and happy to pose for some photos with us, but the man has work to do: visiting every child on earth in a single night could cause one to lose a sense of humor.
Two visits accomplished, we headed over to Belle’s Christmas Village, which was set up in a corner of the Park we hadn’t visited before. Miniaturized cottages were festooned with garlands and fake snow, and vendors were selling Christmasy goodies (including roasted potatoes covered in melted cheese – the name for which escapes me now). Unfortunately, the only tree ornaments with 2003 on them were for Baby’s First Christmas – not exactly appropriate for us… We realized a little late that we needed to line up along a fenced-in area to see Belle’s live show, but we were able to jockey for a decent viewing location (and Meredith perched on Bill’s shoulders for a good part of it). Belle and Gaston strolled right by us, but Meredith didn’t want to say hi.
The 15-minute musical show was darling, and featured French versions of a couple of Beauty and the Beast numbers (Belle’s opening song, the Gaston song, and “Be our guest”), plus some songs that I figure are from the follow-up video, “Belle’s Magical Christmas” (or something along those lines). The 8-10 lip-synching dancers were perfectly well rehearsed and the choreography tight and clever. Disney really has this stuff down, I gotta say.
After the show, we watched a bit of a not-so-great marionette act, and rode on Casey Jr., the Circus Train. It was our first time on this ride and we all enjoyed it. Too bad it’s such a short trip – the little train really chugs along nicely and the views are adorable.
You do get more mileage out of “It’s a Small World,” and there was no line AT ALL! The staff has Christmas-ied up the joint, putting special holiday touches all along the route (wreaths, santa lucia candles, a menorah in the Israel section, a big dragon in China, santa hats on the Rockettes in the NYC section, etc.). Always fun.
Bill and I each rode on “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Peril – Backwards!” which, as the name indicates, goes backwards. The last time we rode this ride, in 1998, it was forwards, I swear. Kinda takes the fun out of loop-the-loops when you can’t see them coming! Anyway, we didn’t have to wait at all for that, either.
Rode Big Thunder Mountain Railroad – still a favorite – and tried to get Meredith back into Phantom Manor, but it was temporarily closed. Did do Dumbo (very short wait) and the Orbitron (much too long a wait) and had lunch in Gepetto’s Cottage (or La Chaumière de Gepetto). Have to say, the roasted chicken was pretty tasty!
We rode Peter Pan again, and Pinocchio (twice) and for the first time, Snow White.
The Peter Pan lines are always terrible! Fortunately, we had FastPass for this second time through. Also rode the Carrousel de Lancelot, and got settled for the late afternoon activities: the Christmas Parade, the Tree Lighting, some dinner, the Fantillusion Parade, and the Fireworks.
The Christmas Parade was decent – great costumes of course, and a lovely song in both French and English (“Chantez! C’est Noël! Time to sing a song of Christmas…”). The Princesses’ costumes featured lots of fur – capes and muffs, etc. – and the regular floats (Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella’s coach, etc.) were decorated with greenery and shiny baubles. Santa was in the parade, too, pulled in a sleigh by 6 live reindeer, who didn’t seem very chipper.
We made our way down Main Street afterward to partake of the Tree Lighting, and it did snow on us a bit (it snowed during the Belle musical show, as well) – Ivory Snow that is! Yes folks, the good people at Disney spew soap flakes into the air to imitate snow. It’s a wonderful effect, especially in a place that rarely sees real snow, but catching the flakes on your tongue is not recommended.
Can’t say we followed the tree-lighting narrative very well, but the lights on the very tall, very evenly proportioned, artificial tree did flash and blink and eventually completely light up. There was some kind of dialogue between Santa and Mickey, I think, but we couldn’t locate them on a stage anywhere, so it seemed more like they were disembodied voices. We moved from there to have a bite to eat at one of the sandwich shops on Main Street, which was edible, if not remarkable.
Then it was time for the Fantillusion Parade, and we were glad we had brought a blanket to stake out enough space for us to enjoy it, as the ground was pretty cold by then. This parade is truly spectacular and I really want to see it again from a different vantage point. There are dozens of floats, divided into three “acts,” and depending on your spot along the parade route, you are treated to the impressive lighting effects of whatever is in front of you. Fortunately, they’re doing it through the end of March, I think, and we’ll be back before then…
The fireworks after the parade were a bit of a come-down, actually. A small display around the palace. Nothing along the lines of the parade, which did I mention was truly spectacular? Meredith was practically asleep by then (8:30, I think), and we had all gotten a bit chilly, so we booked right back to the RER train to get home and to bed.
Looking forward to the next special event at the Park – Carnival with the Lion King!
Long story: Decided not to get up super early, as the park doesn’t even open until 10 on the week days. We were able to check out a lot of the activities in advance on the Disneyland website, and tried to organize our day accordingly. Fortunately, the weather was clear and sunny and not too cold during the daylight hours.
Soon after we arrived, Meredith and I rode Peter Pan’s flight while Bill picked up FastPasses to the popular rides and then got in line to meet Santa. Turns out, it was the line to meet Pooh Bear (in a scarf) AND Santa. Most of the families didn’t really care about meeting Santa at all, they just wanted to meet Winnie L’Ourson.
Santa, or Papa Noël, as he’s known in France, is not a rotund fellow. In fact, he’s quite slim. He does wear the requisite red suit trimmed in fur and sports a bushy white beard and moustache, but he’s not especially jolly. No ho-ho-ho-ing emerged from within. Friendly enough, and happy to pose for some photos with us, but the man has work to do: visiting every child on earth in a single night could cause one to lose a sense of humor.
Two visits accomplished, we headed over to Belle’s Christmas Village, which was set up in a corner of the Park we hadn’t visited before. Miniaturized cottages were festooned with garlands and fake snow, and vendors were selling Christmasy goodies (including roasted potatoes covered in melted cheese – the name for which escapes me now). Unfortunately, the only tree ornaments with 2003 on them were for Baby’s First Christmas – not exactly appropriate for us… We realized a little late that we needed to line up along a fenced-in area to see Belle’s live show, but we were able to jockey for a decent viewing location (and Meredith perched on Bill’s shoulders for a good part of it). Belle and Gaston strolled right by us, but Meredith didn’t want to say hi.
The 15-minute musical show was darling, and featured French versions of a couple of Beauty and the Beast numbers (Belle’s opening song, the Gaston song, and “Be our guest”), plus some songs that I figure are from the follow-up video, “Belle’s Magical Christmas” (or something along those lines). The 8-10 lip-synching dancers were perfectly well rehearsed and the choreography tight and clever. Disney really has this stuff down, I gotta say.
After the show, we watched a bit of a not-so-great marionette act, and rode on Casey Jr., the Circus Train. It was our first time on this ride and we all enjoyed it. Too bad it’s such a short trip – the little train really chugs along nicely and the views are adorable.
You do get more mileage out of “It’s a Small World,” and there was no line AT ALL! The staff has Christmas-ied up the joint, putting special holiday touches all along the route (wreaths, santa lucia candles, a menorah in the Israel section, a big dragon in China, santa hats on the Rockettes in the NYC section, etc.). Always fun.
Bill and I each rode on “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Peril – Backwards!” which, as the name indicates, goes backwards. The last time we rode this ride, in 1998, it was forwards, I swear. Kinda takes the fun out of loop-the-loops when you can’t see them coming! Anyway, we didn’t have to wait at all for that, either.
Rode Big Thunder Mountain Railroad – still a favorite – and tried to get Meredith back into Phantom Manor, but it was temporarily closed. Did do Dumbo (very short wait) and the Orbitron (much too long a wait) and had lunch in Gepetto’s Cottage (or La Chaumière de Gepetto). Have to say, the roasted chicken was pretty tasty!
We rode Peter Pan again, and Pinocchio (twice) and for the first time, Snow White.
The Peter Pan lines are always terrible! Fortunately, we had FastPass for this second time through. Also rode the Carrousel de Lancelot, and got settled for the late afternoon activities: the Christmas Parade, the Tree Lighting, some dinner, the Fantillusion Parade, and the Fireworks.
The Christmas Parade was decent – great costumes of course, and a lovely song in both French and English (“Chantez! C’est Noël! Time to sing a song of Christmas…”). The Princesses’ costumes featured lots of fur – capes and muffs, etc. – and the regular floats (Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella’s coach, etc.) were decorated with greenery and shiny baubles. Santa was in the parade, too, pulled in a sleigh by 6 live reindeer, who didn’t seem very chipper.
We made our way down Main Street afterward to partake of the Tree Lighting, and it did snow on us a bit (it snowed during the Belle musical show, as well) – Ivory Snow that is! Yes folks, the good people at Disney spew soap flakes into the air to imitate snow. It’s a wonderful effect, especially in a place that rarely sees real snow, but catching the flakes on your tongue is not recommended.
Can’t say we followed the tree-lighting narrative very well, but the lights on the very tall, very evenly proportioned, artificial tree did flash and blink and eventually completely light up. There was some kind of dialogue between Santa and Mickey, I think, but we couldn’t locate them on a stage anywhere, so it seemed more like they were disembodied voices. We moved from there to have a bite to eat at one of the sandwich shops on Main Street, which was edible, if not remarkable.
Then it was time for the Fantillusion Parade, and we were glad we had brought a blanket to stake out enough space for us to enjoy it, as the ground was pretty cold by then. This parade is truly spectacular and I really want to see it again from a different vantage point. There are dozens of floats, divided into three “acts,” and depending on your spot along the parade route, you are treated to the impressive lighting effects of whatever is in front of you. Fortunately, they’re doing it through the end of March, I think, and we’ll be back before then…
The fireworks after the parade were a bit of a come-down, actually. A small display around the palace. Nothing along the lines of the parade, which did I mention was truly spectacular? Meredith was practically asleep by then (8:30, I think), and we had all gotten a bit chilly, so we booked right back to the RER train to get home and to bed.
Looking forward to the next special event at the Park – Carnival with the Lion King!
Sunday, February 1, 2004
The End of the World As We Know It
For all you Doomsdayers out there, your time has come. The world is officially coming to an end. How do I know? Three reasons:
1) North Carolina has a team, actually a part of the National Football League, playing in the Super Bowl. (Yeah, yeah, I know they're called the Carolina Panthers, suggesting that South Carolina has some part-ownership instead of the hangers-on they actually are. The Panthers play in Charlotte, which is solidly in North Carolina, so get over it.)
2) It has now snowed in Paris, where it never snows, not once but THREE TIMES in the PAST MONTH. This is our first winter here so we're not speaking from direct experience, but we have been assured from several true veterans that for it to snow in Paris even once a year is pretty rare. Paris is more known for its interminable drizzle during the winter, and there has been plenty of that, too.
So when the two above events occurred, I was getting rather suspicious that it might be time to be rereading my Nostradamus. Then, the final Horseman of the Apocalypse charged through the door as I heard an utterly unutterable word uttered by an utterly French, utterly Parisian person:
"Frappucino"
Yes, the world shall end, imminently, possibly even sooner, so read quickly. Starbucks has invaded Paris. One opened about a week ago on the Avenue de l'Opera, near the Opera House (which is in OUR arrondissement, but the Starbucks is not), and they say there will be another opening soon on, where else, the Champs Elysees.
Perhaps you feel I am overreacting. After all, aren't there Starbucks everywhere? There are some places in NYC where the Starbucks are so close in proximity that the supply trucks only have to park once. London is absolutely lousy with them, too. So why not Paris? The issue is that Paris culture is built on the coffee house. They've had them for centuries. They are everywhere and the French go there to have a café or an au lait and sit there for HOURS. Paris already had good, overpriced coffee. Also, Starbucks is the newest symbol of the empire-building, steamroller, commercialized, mass-production that we Americans are so famous for. So there's the distrust issue. There are other reasons, but you get the gist.
So, how did the French react to this cataclysmic event? With all of their famous and natural indifference and non-chalance, of course... while they were waiting in a line five blocks long to get into the Starbucks to order their Venté or Grandé. I use the word "line" to mean the best semblance of a line the French can muster, but that's for another blog.
The real fallout is yet to come. Either the Starbucks will quickly go out of business because there are only so many seats and space in a violating-the-fire-code kind of way, because every Parisian will expect to spend hours drinking their coffee sur place. Because coffee-to-go doesn't really exist in France. And for good reason. The drivers are already dangerous enough without a cup of hot coffee in their hand, but the sidewalks would become minefields. The French pedestrians cut in front of, cut off, cut the legs out from under, each other. And when that fails, they just ram into each other. This happens often enough that everyone would soon need skin grafts from coffee scalds and coffee brown would necessarily become the new black for the fashion industry, since everyone would be wearing their coffee anyway. Paris will no longer be safe to walk around in if Starbucks is able to convert the French into foot-traffic customers. So please, pray for its quick demise. Our safety is at stake...
1) North Carolina has a team, actually a part of the National Football League, playing in the Super Bowl. (Yeah, yeah, I know they're called the Carolina Panthers, suggesting that South Carolina has some part-ownership instead of the hangers-on they actually are. The Panthers play in Charlotte, which is solidly in North Carolina, so get over it.)
2) It has now snowed in Paris, where it never snows, not once but THREE TIMES in the PAST MONTH. This is our first winter here so we're not speaking from direct experience, but we have been assured from several true veterans that for it to snow in Paris even once a year is pretty rare. Paris is more known for its interminable drizzle during the winter, and there has been plenty of that, too.
So when the two above events occurred, I was getting rather suspicious that it might be time to be rereading my Nostradamus. Then, the final Horseman of the Apocalypse charged through the door as I heard an utterly unutterable word uttered by an utterly French, utterly Parisian person:
"Frappucino"
Yes, the world shall end, imminently, possibly even sooner, so read quickly. Starbucks has invaded Paris. One opened about a week ago on the Avenue de l'Opera, near the Opera House (which is in OUR arrondissement, but the Starbucks is not), and they say there will be another opening soon on, where else, the Champs Elysees.
Perhaps you feel I am overreacting. After all, aren't there Starbucks everywhere? There are some places in NYC where the Starbucks are so close in proximity that the supply trucks only have to park once. London is absolutely lousy with them, too. So why not Paris? The issue is that Paris culture is built on the coffee house. They've had them for centuries. They are everywhere and the French go there to have a café or an au lait and sit there for HOURS. Paris already had good, overpriced coffee. Also, Starbucks is the newest symbol of the empire-building, steamroller, commercialized, mass-production that we Americans are so famous for. So there's the distrust issue. There are other reasons, but you get the gist.
So, how did the French react to this cataclysmic event? With all of their famous and natural indifference and non-chalance, of course... while they were waiting in a line five blocks long to get into the Starbucks to order their Venté or Grandé. I use the word "line" to mean the best semblance of a line the French can muster, but that's for another blog.
The real fallout is yet to come. Either the Starbucks will quickly go out of business because there are only so many seats and space in a violating-the-fire-code kind of way, because every Parisian will expect to spend hours drinking their coffee sur place. Because coffee-to-go doesn't really exist in France. And for good reason. The drivers are already dangerous enough without a cup of hot coffee in their hand, but the sidewalks would become minefields. The French pedestrians cut in front of, cut off, cut the legs out from under, each other. And when that fails, they just ram into each other. This happens often enough that everyone would soon need skin grafts from coffee scalds and coffee brown would necessarily become the new black for the fashion industry, since everyone would be wearing their coffee anyway. Paris will no longer be safe to walk around in if Starbucks is able to convert the French into foot-traffic customers. So please, pray for its quick demise. Our safety is at stake...
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