Last day in Paris. The rain returns and becomes my signal that it is time to go....but not before I enjoy one final lunch. I return to my hotel to leave my shopping bags full of Debauve et Gallais chocolates, Laduree macaroons, and my modest picnic for the Eurostar the next day. La vie est belle! I head to the Cafe Varenne not far from my hotel....a gem of a neighborhood bistro. It's a bit late in the day so I don't have to worry too much about getting a table. I am seated in the window with a view of la Boucherie de Varenne, a very charming butcher shop! It may seem strange to put the words charming and butcher in the same sentence, but trust me, it is charming. The store front is green and the proud banner says "Charcuterie, Volaille, Triperie". The butcher is perfectly dressed in a red checked jacket with sleeves that roll up and attach with tabs. Who would have guessed that fashion and meat go together! Yes, the butcher wore red. I try to focus on the menu of the day because I feel the impatience of the waiter behind me. Ironically I don't order meat. I take the lentilles with diced carrots and poached egg on top, a salade frisee and a glass of brouilly--red wine that is slightly chilled. I am already in heaven just by making these choices and continue my people watching out the window. The butcher has prepared a platter of meat on a silver tray to take to the apartment at 33 rue de Varenne and is on his way up to deliver it. I wonder who lives there and what their relationship might be...He returns to his shop after only a few minutes, however, so any fantasy I might have is quickly dispelled. My lunch arrives and it looks so good that it distracts me from looking at anything around me. I enjoy it slowly knowing that it will be months before I get to have anything like it again. When I am done, the waiter asks me if I will be having dessert. I ask him what is being offered that day and he replies "tarte aux fraises...la meilleur du monde"! Strawberry tarte--the best in the world. That is quite a statement I think. Then he adds, "C'est la recette de ma maman!" Ah...his mother's recipe. How can I refuse? The tarte arrives and it is beautifully arranged--I'm impressed already. One bite of the tarte and I know that he wasn't kidding. It is the best strawberry tarte...simple in that it is just strawberries, pastry and cream... but the best strawberries, amazing pastry and scrumptious cream. He gives me a knowing nod as he passes by watching me close my eyes and take a first bite. It's not just a bite of a strawberry tarte, it is a bite of Paris... always at it finest.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Tarte aux Fraises
Last day in Paris. The rain returns and becomes my signal that it is time to go....but not before I enjoy one final lunch. I return to my hotel to leave my shopping bags full of Debauve et Gallais chocolates, Laduree macaroons, and my modest picnic for the Eurostar the next day. La vie est belle! I head to the Cafe Varenne not far from my hotel....a gem of a neighborhood bistro. It's a bit late in the day so I don't have to worry too much about getting a table. I am seated in the window with a view of la Boucherie de Varenne, a very charming butcher shop! It may seem strange to put the words charming and butcher in the same sentence, but trust me, it is charming. The store front is green and the proud banner says "Charcuterie, Volaille, Triperie". The butcher is perfectly dressed in a red checked jacket with sleeves that roll up and attach with tabs. Who would have guessed that fashion and meat go together! Yes, the butcher wore red. I try to focus on the menu of the day because I feel the impatience of the waiter behind me. Ironically I don't order meat. I take the lentilles with diced carrots and poached egg on top, a salade frisee and a glass of brouilly--red wine that is slightly chilled. I am already in heaven just by making these choices and continue my people watching out the window. The butcher has prepared a platter of meat on a silver tray to take to the apartment at 33 rue de Varenne and is on his way up to deliver it. I wonder who lives there and what their relationship might be...He returns to his shop after only a few minutes, however, so any fantasy I might have is quickly dispelled. My lunch arrives and it looks so good that it distracts me from looking at anything around me. I enjoy it slowly knowing that it will be months before I get to have anything like it again. When I am done, the waiter asks me if I will be having dessert. I ask him what is being offered that day and he replies "tarte aux fraises...la meilleur du monde"! Strawberry tarte--the best in the world. That is quite a statement I think. Then he adds, "C'est la recette de ma maman!" Ah...his mother's recipe. How can I refuse? The tarte arrives and it is beautifully arranged--I'm impressed already. One bite of the tarte and I know that he wasn't kidding. It is the best strawberry tarte...simple in that it is just strawberries, pastry and cream... but the best strawberries, amazing pastry and scrumptious cream. He gives me a knowing nod as he passes by watching me close my eyes and take a first bite. It's not just a bite of a strawberry tarte, it is a bite of Paris... always at it finest.
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