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places to bring your mistress ;)

Sorry about the time travelling but the travel stories end up this way cause there are too many stories 😉  imagine it is Sat, Sep 15th


I am sitting somewhere in East London, slightly disorientated – but having a wonderful time.  I was waiting for my server to bring my Manhattan so was just checking out the venue.  I looked up at the ceiling and it’s spectacular – and unique.  It’s vaulted and filled with white beams intersecting with glass panels.  Two ceiling fans are whirling away beneath octopus shaped hammered silver chandeliers.  The cuisine is French and Malay and each ceiling fixture evokes a sense  of one of those locales.

What caught my attention though was the sparkling blue light that shines through the glass ceiling.  I’m not sure what it is.  It shines like a supernatural celestial being.

When you get old, your brain synapses with all kinds of strange connections 😉  The sparkly blue light sent me back to the 80’s and a place called – I think – The Stardust CafĂ©.

I am enamored of food – and architecture, art
 I don’t eat at McDonald’s 🙂  As a result, I have now been to so many memorable restaurants a lot of the memories have blurred together and only the truly unique experiences are easy to channel in the current day.

My friend Karen was the one who introduced me to the Stardust CafĂ©.  Back in those days I didn’t have a lot of cash for restaurants so a night out was an event.  And we were always on the lookout for a value proposition.

That was the attraction.  Karen had been there before so suggested it for our catchup session.  I was young then so maybe it wouldn’t impress me so much today.

The food was good – but it was the atmosphere that made it stand out.  The lighting was very subdued.  You walked up a staircase covered in black carpeting and lots of glitter.  The fairy dust of my Brownie years 🙂  Maybe that’s where my love for glitter began


Because it was a great value proposition, it became our meeting spot at that point in time.  Because it was in the part of town “across the tracks”, it was hard to find, you had to walk up a staircase to get to the dining room and it was filled with low lighting, mirrors and glitter, we decided on one of our visits it was the ultimate place to take your mistress 😉

The place I found in London because I got lost on my way home from Waterloo station because they were doing the constant upgrades on the Underground and the Jubilee line was down fits the same sort of bill.

But it was also a great discovery.  The food was excellent, the cocktails were first rate and the staff were lovely.  Apparently it is a family who used to manage Ronnie Scott’s.  Everyone is really friendly and the jazz is shockingly good for 5 pounds!  The plan is to do it every Friday.  It is a tiny room and you can chat with the musicians in the break.

They have only been open for a month or two so right now you can bring your mistress – but if it catches on, it might be trickier 😉

For those with no mistresses in tow, here are the details


 www.nolias11.com

p.s. London has been amazing and there are fresh stories as usual – bear with me as it might take some time to get them on line!

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artsy stuff, eating & drinking - well, travel stories

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keeping up with the consumer…

This week I was walking through the flagship Sears store on Robson street and it was kind of depressing.  I had noticed a while ago the “going out of business” signs.  I thought it was just that location but I gather Sears is in trouble.

It does seem to have lost its way.  I guess it’s likely run by a bunch of old, white guys… let me check… no pics on the investors web page – but those names are not ethnic!  And nary a girl name among them.  So I bet they didn’t see H&M and Zara coming to eat their lunch… and they didn’t realize maybe they should take a page out of Target’s book and learn how to be a bit cooler…

My current shoe collection would suggest otherwise but almost my entire childhood wardrobe came from Sears – unless my mom sewed it herself.  The kids nowadays have no idea how much the world has changed in their favour.  And it has benefited a lot of people.

It is really cheap to be a fashionista in the 21st century.  And that is a wonderful thing.  I look back at pictures of me from the 70s and I just cringe.  But I didn’t know any better 🙂  There was no MTV, let alone fashion bloggers and websites posting photos of the latest designer collections a few hours after they hit the runway.

We may not have achieved as much political democracy as we might have hoped for but we have democratized fashion in a way that can only be a force for good for the human race.

Sure, fashion is silly.  And one shouldn’t get too caught up in it.  But fashion is also political.  Just ask a woman wearing a burqa in 40 degree Celsius heat.

Fashion is especially political for women.  And the politics take many forms.  My first job was on Bay Street (the Canadian equivalent of Wall Street).  It was a big deal.  I came from a small town on the Canadian prairie and Toronto was the big smoke.  And Bay Street.  It was the culmination of so many of the things my dad had taught me.

Including how to be a rebel 😉  Only recently I would go to clients and see the exposed thongs of the young female staff members (really a don’t, ladies! 🙂  But back in the 80s there were very few women in business and the tiny minority had decided that dressing like the boys would be the key to their ascent up the ladder.  The more conservative the profession, the tougher the rules.

At least we didn’t have to worry our costume would obscure our peripheral vision but it was pretty strict.  Only dull colours, no pants, hosiery non-optional, sensible pumps preferred and – the worst part – a floppy bow scarf thing around your neck in place of a necktie.

In those days in my private time I dressed like a pseudo-punk so, needless to say, the dress code (and many companies had written ones back then) made me crazy.  So I wore pants.  I was the only woman who did.  What was most amusing was that when I pointed that out to male colleagues they were surprised.  Only the women cared – and noticed.  I think the guys just looked at your ass – and if it was good, what you covered it with didn’t matter very much…  I also wore boy’s neckties in place of the cursed floppy bow… if we were supposed to dress  like boys, why not do it right?  I think it was sexier.  I got a lot of compliments from guys on my ties 🙂  And – a harbinger of my future identity – I wore shoes as funky as I thought I could get away with.

And – in my first performance review – the female partner I reported to (who dressed like a butch lesbian) called me out on my dress.  She told me I dressed “too mod”.  I think I wasn’t too cheeky but unfortunately she gave me a story for life… “too mod”… what is “too mod”???  I’m still not really sure.  I think she was just saying I had a personality and the style sense to express it.  And the firm did not approve. 

I always cheer a little when I see some cool shoes poking out under a burqua 😉  Maybe if Sears had some cross-dressers on its board, its business would be better.  Fashion may be frivolous but it has also always been political.  It has been a reflection of the times, of the social mores and of the religious state of all the nations that comprise the world.

And the world is changing, people.  It’s not all good.  It never is.  But there is definitely some good things happening out there.  And fashion is a mirror to what’s going on.  So what’s it telling us…

Fashion is being produced where the labour rates are lowest.  Bad for developed countries but great for developing ones.  It’s forcing people to acquire actual skills the marketplace wants in order to get a paycheque.  It’s supplying paycheques to lots of people (especially women) in lots of countries where that was not a possibility even twenty years ago.

It’s made clothes cheap.  So everyone can express themselves.  And look good.  And acquire the self-esteem that comes from that.

It’s opened up new markets and made it not such a big deal to have an Asian or African model sell clothes to white people.  And – more importantly – to be a mirror for their own people so that they can visualize themselves in the clothes.

I feel some nostalgia walking through the now almost empty Sears store.  It used to be the flagship Eatons store before they also forgot about the consumer.  I bought almost everything at that Eatons store.  And it was one of my first audits so I counted inventory there so many times I could direct people to departments better than almost any of the staff members 🙂

When I was a child my dad was always buying properties and we would be going through old abandoned houses cleaning up.  One of my strongest memories was the old catalogues from Eatons and Sears.  That was how people bought things on the Canadian prairie back in the early days of the twentieth century.

That’s the thing with consumers.  They always think they are moving forward and what they are doing has never been done before.  But the internet is the new Sears catalogue.  Nowadays people all over the world buy things in the same way a 20th century farmer without access to a shopping mall would.  Sears coulda been Amazon… if only they hadn’t been asleep at the wheel…

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artsy stuff, social commentary

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when in doubt, play YMCA ;)

You may be hoping I have given up this silly venture to put my thoughts into cyberspace but, sadly for you, I keep having thoughts 🙂  My work life has just gone into overdrive so finding the time to commit them to bytes is in short supply.  The thoughts have been serious lately so I decided we would go more whimsical with a post that has been in my head for a while now.

My mom’s 70th birthday is now in the recent past.  As mentioned earlier, I am obsessed with music so spent many hours creating a soundtrack of my life for my recent milestone birthday.  During the process I told her I would do the same for her 70th.

A totally different soundtrack focused on the only period of her life when she was really into music, her teen years.  It’s the norm for most people.  People like me who can even impress a 20 year old with a new band recommendation s/he hasn’t heard of are the outliers.  But since music is one of my passions I can customize a soundtrack for almost anyone.  So to the 50’s and jive we went


Contrary to my own musical taste, I even let her have Pat Boone and Ricky Nelson.  To her credit, also the Everly Brothers.  Neither of my parents was really into music so, when I was a child, my parents owned four albums – The Everly Brothers, Pat Boone, The Mills Brothers and Bing Crosby singing Christmas carols.  I know all the words to Mele Kalikimaka – Bing Crosby’s ode to a Hawaiian Christmas – look it up on the internet 😉

Luckily my maternal grandmother had a much broader range of musical interests – and even owned an electric organ!  So I got to hear a few other artists in my youth.  In general, though, my musical education didn’t begin until I hit university and the big city.

It is really thanks to Mike that I know how to design a soundtrack.  He showed me what the good stuff sounded like, added the colour of the stories of the performers and turned me on to lyrics and musical inspiration.

He was also the dude who refused to dance to WHAM – at the height of their glory.

Both viewpoints taught me a lot.  Mostly he taught me how to appreciate music, especially musical skills and genuine originality.  But his snobbery also taught me that it’s OK to get down with the masses sometimes.  And a crowd-pleasing soundtrack will likely include a few things that might make you cringe a little 😉

I always try to err on the side of the popular but not cringe inducing
 how YMCA made it onto my mom’s birthday soundtrack.  It’s a song that will get people on the dance floor
 and it even transcends nations as I discovered when the Egyptian guys knew the moves far better than me!

And my mom’s birthday helped introduce yet another generation to this “get the party started” classic


I just assumed I would get a couple of people on the dance floor – if they weren’t already there 🙂  And a couple of adults would know at least some of the moves.  But it ended up being a big hit.  The ladies were almost as good as the Egyptian guys.  If I could have time-travelled and put them all together, it would have been outstanding.

But my mom’s birthday offered its own special entertainment courtesy of Kylie.

My mother’s birthday bash offered all sorts of entertainment, including a few live acts.  I was busy trying to take a few photos so she would have some mementos.  Someone pointed out to me what was happening on the dance floor since I had my camera focused on the stage.  There were two under 10s at the party.  Normally one would have expected them to be bored out of their mind.  But they both proved to be fascinating kids and they managed to sort of bond during the party and provide a complete floorshow in tandem with the musicians on stage.

Unfortunately Isaac had to go home but Kylie was able to stay.  And she LOVED YMCA!  So we had to play it at least three times while the older ladies taught her the moves.  So the torch has been passed to a new generation 😉

It was a fun night but what most resonated with me was the power of music.  To promote social interaction.  To inspire social change.  And to just help us celebrate being human – and define our own identity.  I may be tone deaf but I still love music and think it is one of those few human endeavors that is so often a medium for good.  You might wanna think about that, Republicans.  Ted Nugent?  Seriously???

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artsy stuff, life philosophy

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putting the Great in Britain!!!

Mitt Romney, shame on you for trying to claim a special relationship with the Brits.  You are not worthy, dude.  As Danny Boyle has shown us all 🙂

Maybe their most glorious days are behind them and Hollywood captures the collective imagination of the twitterish 21st century world but the accomplishments of the British.  It’s really tough to rival – and by comparison they look like the wise grownups while the Americans look like spoiled children.

I recently read a very depressing book called Empire of Illusion: The End of Literacy and the Triumph of Spectacle.  There were some interesting points but the author offered no hope or solutions so for me it didn’t live up to its potential.  I am all about hope – and solutions.

I recognize there are no easy solutions.  But that doesn’t mean we should all throw our hands in the air and give up.  And while the world is not developing into a better place in a straight line, there are always positive developments happening every day – and that is what we need to nurture and celebrate.

That is why I was so wowed by Danny Boyle.  Who else could turn the National Health Service into a spectacle worthy of entertaining – but also enlightening.  And celebrating one of the great tenets of British society.

He also showed suffragettes, the industrial revolution (the good and the bad) and the invention of the world wide web.  All incredible advances in the modern world in which Great Britain played a key role.

He also highlighted the cultural achievements of a nation unsurpassed by any other on the world stage.  What other nation can start with Kenneth Branagh quoting from Shakespeare, put together Voldemort, JK Rowling, Peter Pan, Winnie the Pooh and multiple Mary Poppins in a way that makes sense, flow into a gigantic electronic house party that showcases how Britpop became a word known all over the globe and then showcasing the energy and talent of the Arctic Monkeys.  How many countries have an indie band that good?

From the pastoral bucolic England of William Blake to the high energy multicultural Great Britain ushered in by Tim Berners-Lee’s world wide web, it’s been a place that influenced the world and its history.  There were many history lessons to be learned from Danny Boyle’s spectacle.  A great example of how spectacle can be used to teach, not just to titillate.  I think the most memorable image is the forging of the Olympic rings and their subsequent air flight.

So many things flew!  Or were lit up.  Or sparkled.  Sound, image and motion blended seamlessly from frame to frame, moving so fast, with so much to see, that I know I need to watch it twice to catch everything.

Only two years ago my home city hosted the Olympics.  And we did a great job.  But it was homespun.  We aren’t very famous.  Or rich.  The Queen didn’t come.  We put on a great show for someone in the middle of nowhere.  That’s the thing you gotta learn, Mitt.  You are in one of the most impressive cities in the history of the world, in a country that definitely has its faults (as they all do) but that has also contributed to the world so many of the advances that have made it a better place.

As a Canadian, I share a lot of the British sensibility.  And a lot more than crass Americans like you, Mitt.  We never fled from the mothership.  Even fought for her many times.  Of course King George III was advised by William Pitt to consider trading us for Guadeloupe.  Of course, at the time they had sugar plantations and we just had beavers so you couldn’t totally blame them.

(Discovered some fascinating facts about the American Revolution, the Tea Party (version 1.0) and King George III trying to make sure I had the names of the players right.  Kind of guessing Mitt (and the vast majority of Americans) unaware of these facts (cause Americans appear to hate FACTS
 so dull and disconcerting) but definitely fuel for another post


But tonight we are celebrating the Brits.  Sure, they have some flaws.  We all do, nationally and individually.  But, on the whole, the Brits show many more signs than other nations of being polite to others and worrying about the collective over the individual, valuing literacy and a complex world view and – my personal favourite – having a self-depreciating wit that can showcase humility and arrogance all in the right balance.

You will have to watch the show!  I was privileged to watch it live.  And was shocked by the lack of commercials.  It was hard to even time a bathroom visit 🙂  So much happened I will have to watch it again in prime time.  It was so spectacular it has even inspired a second post 🙂

On a personal note, I’d really like to thank my parents for being such strong proponents of the concept of literacy.  There was lots of flash to the London show and – like any great spectacle – it can be watched on more than one level.  But it was my childhood experience that informed my favourite sequences.

I liked the ones with intellectual content.  With a moral message.  I think my favourite was the tribute to the National Health Service.  Where I also learned about GOSH.

According to Wikipedia, Great Ormond Street is closely associated with University College London (UCL) and in partnership with the UCL Institute of Child Health, which it is located adjacent to, is the largest centre for research and postgraduate teaching in children’s health in Europe.  It is part of both the Great Ormond Street Hospital/UCL Institute of Child Health Biomedical Research Centre and the UCL Partners academic health science centre.  It was apparently the first sick children’s hospital in the world.

Great Ormond Street is known internationally for receiving the rights from J. M. Barrie to his play Peter Pan, or the Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up in 1929, which have provided significant funding for the institution.

Watching children reading stories reminded me of MY childhood 🙂  And I know ALL of these stories and characters.  My parents read to us until we could read to them – and finally to ourselves.  Books were revered.  It’s how a great civilization is built.  From the King James Bible to Harry Potter, English books have touched most of the world.  As will the 2012 London Olympic opening ceremonies.

I think they mostly got it all right.  Beckham looked cool and was gracious in his role in the ceremonies, showcasing the best kind of Englishman.  The Queen actually got into a helicopter with Daniel Craig, a few minutes that showed the entire history of the monarchy in a few frames of film, highlighting how she great she is at playing Queen and keeping the monarchy popular when it should be an anachronism.

The only moment that made me shake my head
 really, WHO would want to follow those fireworks???  And an aging Beatle with a creaky voice singing “Hey Jude”.  Danny boy, you ended on a low note.  But I guess someone had to pay for all that flash.  And Britain might have the smarts and the talent
 but not so much cash.  So I’m guessing Paul flashed some cash and paid for his advertising spot like the other sponsors.

But, hey, London, you have definitely grown up in the last 12 years.  I was there in 1999 for the big Millennium.  It really sucked.  The highlights: Peter Gabriel’s high wire show and Black Adder making fun of English history in the Millennium Dome.  You learned from your mistakes.  A great show by Danny Boyle combining spectacle and intellect.  A very funny Rowan Atkinson as Mr. Bean.  And a real River of Fire on the Thames this time!  You even have the Millennium Wheel working – unlike at the actual Millennium 😉

Now, if you had really wanted to end with a bang, you would have had Paul McCartney sing John Lennon’s “Imagine”.  A song that fits the message the Olympics like to preach at least.  Paul honouring John and saying he is above the rivalry.  And first you would have had a minute of silence for the Israeli athletes killed in Munich in 1972.  That would have sent a message that the Olympics really want to be about more than cash and advertising.

Unlike the American presidency
  Mitt, they kicked ass!  They may make you “eat humble pie”.  That’s “eat crow” to you.  Don’t worry, I don’t think you have to eat actual crows – or offal
 but you are in a foreign country so you never know
 and there are a lot of pigeons in Trafalgar Square


 

Category:

artsy stuff, shining examples, social commentary

I’m civilizing you :)

What a concept! 🙂  I have been thinking of plenty of posts but still catching up from my time in Manitoba so not quite sure when they will hit the internet but I just watched episode 4 of “The Newsroom” and it has already inspired one unwritten post before this one so I decided it was time


I’ve never been much of a TV watcher.  It’s almost always “background” to me
 and the sophistication of the plot and dialogue of most TV shows doesn’t require much real attention
 but it’s nice to have the comforting noise so I often have the TV on even though I am not officially watching and can always catch more of the details in future re-runs.

But sometimes you stumble across something that arrests your attention and you can’t even just google stuff while watching and actually follow the entire show
  That would be “The Newsroom”, Aaron Sorkin’s newest baby.  I happened to stumble across the pilot in the last week or so.  I was planning to write about it with a heading, “america is not the greatest country in the world.”

I have been in love with Jeff Daniels for a couple of decades
 and Emily Mortimer is one of those actresses who should be described as “one of the leading lights of her generation”.  And it has Sam Waterson and even Jane Fonda, for god’s sake.  For those who appreciate great acting and actors who can deliver great writing
 well, it just restores your faith in humanity.  It really is trying to civilize us 🙂

The speech that Jeff Daniels (aka Will McAvoy) delivers in the pilot is one of the most intelligent, introspective, inspiring descriptions of the current state of the American nation and the American mindset I’ve encountered.  Both the dialogue and the delivery are astonishing.  At first Will is trying to avoid saying anything because he has become a meaningless rich celebrity without a point of view.  The question is why is America the greatest country in the world.  Not “is.”  Then he thinks he sees his old girlfriend in the audience, a journalist who he thinks is in Iraq dodging bullets.  She is holding up a sign that says, “it’s not.”  It inspires him.  Unlike his fellow pundits who cite something stupid like “freedom” he cites facts (remember those little nuggets, Fox News???), trying to explain to the underliterate audience just what America IS good at…  We lead the world in only three categories: number of incarcerated citizens per capita, number of adults who believe angels are real, and defense spending, where we spend more than the next twenty-six countries combined, twenty-five of whom are allies. 

I am sure there will be more to be said.  As I type this, I am trying to follow Jon Stewart skewering Mitt Romney.  It is pretty sad that all the best news in the United States of America is not really “the news”.  That’s the message of “The Newsroom.”  Pundits and infotainment replacing actual facts and analysis that made us all smarter and better world citizens
 Will McAvoy-aka Jeff Daniels-channelling Aaron Sorkin really IS trying to civilize us.  We need it.

Once upon a time I was in an elevator with Rupert Murdoch
 back when he was just famous in Australia and there was no Fox News.  I shoulda slugged him.  But that would have been bad for my career 🙂  I made a lot of statements about my dad at his funeral but the one that fits tonight


He watched Lloyd Robertson every night.  (I actually saw Lloyd in the CTV cafeteria but was never brave enough to talk to him.  I wanted to tell him about my dad.)  He knew way more about the world than George W. Bush ever will and he would have made a far better President.  You would think there should be an IQ test for the leader of the free world.  At least a few skill testing questions
 and no calculators!

My dad was the one who taught me about the importance of civilization – and my role in keeping it alive.  Let’s hope “The Newsroom” is a hit – and we all learn how to be more civilized.  America can be great.  Will talks about that too – and it’s worth hearing.  America is your promising child who turned into a drug dealer when you weren’t paying attention.  Maybe the big mistake was giving Murdoch American citizenship?  Apparently points for character are not a big part of the criteria


http://www.hbo.com/the-newsroom/index.html

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artsy stuff, social commentary

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finding your personal style :)

I spent the weekend organizing my closet and trying to finally get rid of some of the stuff in it.  I did manage to drag a few things out and even got them to a charity for resale.  But my closet still looks way too full!

Things were easier back in the old days when my mom tried to get me to quit wearing the same brown sweatpants and oversize T-shirt every day.  When I tell people I was painfully shy when I was 15, they roll their eyes and laugh.  It’s true!  It’s also true that I had absolutely zero sense of style and owned maybe three pairs of shoes


The first wakeup call was when my friend Yvonne told me I looked smart
  I’m not quite sure what she meant but I was 18 and finally waking up to the concept that maybe boys could be more than buddies – and that might involve donning a skirt.

It all still seemed pretty dumb to me and I figured my intellect would get me a date 🙂  And it can.  It depends who you want to date.  And I wanted to date smart boys.  So my style remained a black hole for many years after the first fleeting thought that maybe it should be something I should consider.

In the end it was fate that was the tipping point, not great planning.  Given all the shoes stuffed into miscellaneous corners of my apartment as I type this, it’s hard to envision but back in 1992 I was freshly arrived from my sojourn in Australia and looking for a new pair of black loafers.  When I had arrived in Vancouver in 1985 the shoe store landscape had been bleak so I had become an enormous fan of Stephane de Raucourt as soon as it opened.  In its first incarnation sensible pumps in a myriad of colours along with some boring, sensible loafers were pretty much its entire offering.  It fit to my personal non-style perfectly 😉

But when I went to the newly located store a few years later I was shocked to discover that the business concept had changed and they were now doing knock-off designer shoes.  Not a boring Weejun style loafer to be found.  But I hate shopping so was open to seeing if I could get out of the store with something and not have to go elsewhere.  The salesclerk convinced me a black suede loafer with a heel and Gucci-copy buckle would be just as comfortable as my boring ones.  It was true!  But what was life-changing was that people actually noticed my shoes.

And it all went downhill
 uphill?  from there.  It was a slow process and it took me at least a decade to realize there had been a transformation.  Somehow I had developed a personal style.  And become the kind of person who has random men tell me how much they like my shoes!  I have had women run up to me looking intense – only to have them ask where I got my shoes.

My shoes are the most famous part of my style.  Because I learned my lesson.  You can wear the same boring, comfortable clothes year after year – just change your shoes!  Somewhere in there I also learned how to dress my body, how to choose good fabrics, how a great tailor can make men swoon at your feet


So, now I have a closet full of incredible clothing and shoes that would make any fashionista proud (almost all bought on sale like a good Scottish girl 😉  I regularly get positive feedback on my personal style.  And men flirt with me on every continent.  I am still the smart girl who doesn’t always get it – but the power of a dress and a pair of heels to rock your world
 if only I’d figured it out when I was 16 😉

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artsy stuff

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le perfect mixte

For those of you not familiar with France, un sandwich mixte is just a ham and cheese sandwich.  But, like most things in Paris, “just” is not part of the vocabulary.  Having at least one proper sandwich mixte is always my goal in Paris.  The bread needs to have that perfect combination of crunch and softness.  The cheese needs to be sliced at just the right thickness with the perfect depth of flavour. And I don’t know what they do with the pigs in France but ham never tastes the same in other places.

This time it took three tries.  But when it finally arrives… on a sunny day, in an outdoor cafĂ©, accompanied by a great glass of St Emilion, you say “oo la la” under your breath 🙂

I did try to squeeze a little culture in between the adventures in merchandising.  I had noted in the hotel’s tourist info that the Palais de Tokyo was reopening and doing some kind of 48 hour culturathon apparently.  The Palais de Tokyo is not for everyone but if you appreciate modern art, it is worth the trip to the 16th arrondissement.

The first time I went I was sick in Paris so only managed to drag myself there late in the afternoon.  Too late for the MusĂ©e d’Art Moderne but early enough for the young, hip open into the evening Palais de Tokyo.  Sometimes I look at really modern art and think, “OK, the artist is just making fun of us.  Or he was VERY high when he thought this was a good idea…”  But sometimes it’s provocative, inventive or just pretty.  My favourite piece this time was a little of each.  I’m not quite sure what it means but it was fascinating to look at – and very pretty.  I took a photo so you can decide for yourself.

The MusĂ©e d’Art Moderne was a bit more conventional but also included an

an installation that mostly just looked wild and crazy.  But maybe that is all art needs to be…  I would recommend a visit to both – and then a stop at the surprisingly great cafĂ© right next to the mĂ©tro.  If you are lucky, the sun will be shining, the light will descend on all that elaborate seventeenth century architecture and you will know there is nowhere else you could be but Paris.

And when it is time for dessert – or a snack – or breakfast 🙂  I have had them at all three times this trip.  My newest Paris obsession – macarons at Pierre HermĂ©.

It all started in 2003 when Sean requested macarons from LadurĂ©e as “payment” for our free accommodation in London.  A sweet price to pay 🙂   At that stage in my life, I had some passing knowledge of a macaron but had never had one in Paris and knew nothing about LadurĂ©e.  It wasn’t exactly knowledge one acquired in small town Manitoba.

For several years I thought LadurĂ©e macarons were “la bombe” but then I read about some upstart called Pierre HermĂ© in a magazine.  And I started dissing LadurĂ©e.  Not a very French thing to do…

It’s not that LadurĂ©e macarons are bad.  It’s just that Pierre HermĂ© is that little slice of heaven on earth that is Paris at its finest.  I managed to sample almost all the flavours over my five days in Paris.  (Luckily you walk a lot in Paris.  The Paris mĂ©tro is a cardio workout without having to put your gym gear on.)  The most dangerous part – and one of the reasons he has become so famous – is that the flavours are seasonable and always changing – so it becomes a classically existential totally Parisian question – can one ever try all the flavours of Pierre HermĂ© macarons?  Certainly not on one brief visit.

Conveniently (dangerously???) you can buy them at a number of different outlets 🙂  They even have an outlet on the shoe floor (yes, an entire floor!) at Galeries Lafayette – it’s almost a little too much pleasure to handle in such a small space 🙂

My favourite is the Infinement Vanille – vanilla taken to a level of perfection only attainable on French soil.  This trip I didn’t spend much time on food except for les sandwiches mixtes and macarons but on my final night I had a sublime meal at the Murano Urban Resort that reinforced all the stereotypes about French food and wine that I hold so dear.  Wildly it was the first time I ever had a well-done steak sent from the kitchen!  Normally you have to order it a little more ‘done’ than you would in North America and the risk is blood, not char.  Obviously, some miscommunication had occurred but I just had to show a piece to my French server and it was whisked away and returned in a perfect, slightly bloody form.  No self-respecting French person would have eaten it  🙂

I can still remember introducing my mom and my niece to the concept of crĂšme brulĂ©e in Paris.  They were hooked from the first bite.  Paris does that to you.  Take a few bites in the right places and you will be hooked for life.  Paris will ruin you.  It will be like a youthful love affair you never quite recover from.  But never regret.  The things that change your life.  Make you a bit of a snob.  But allow you to experience life on levels you never even knew were there before some French speaking guy named Paul seduced you – and made you try his patĂ©…  I’ve loved patĂ© ever since…


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