(ok so it looked better through sleepy eyes than through a camera lens)
(attempted early morning false artisticness)
I decide at that moment to wander around Paris with my camera (and readings, of course) and explore this beautiful city and do a photo series on the exploration of light. Whereupon it immediately started pouring sheets of rain.
Undeterred, I wait for it to stop (as sudden showers always do, soon enough) and rush out, armed with my double-layered Chicago umbrella -- leaving my key in the room in the process (damn). Frontdeskguy is nowhere to be found, as usual, so i head out anyway.
I walk around the St. Paul area, find a village of antique shops, and eventually sit down at a cafe along Rue St. Antoine, after 30 minutes and 1 quick spatter of rain. Order a confit de canard and a beer. The duck turns out to be the fattest thing ever, with the potatoes smothered in garlic and parsely. In other words, it was the best i've ever had. Potatoes are crispy on the edges and soft in the middle, and oh how much I've missed garlic! Duck is sauceless, but it doesn't need any, moist and flavourful and falling off the bone. As i sit there having my private food orgasm, it starts to rain again. Fuck, it's diluting my duck. The sombre serious waiter extends a canopy with a press of a button, bringing a dry (dark) sky above my head. I eat my hot potatoes, people scurry along the streets.
I get so much utility out of the main course that I happily order a dessert when prompted. Tarte tatin avec glace arrives, I burn myself on the hot plate. Good sign. The apples are dusted with cinnammon and I hurry to eat the pie before the ice cream melts, pausing only to take a photo after the initial excitement.... which turns out not to do the apple pie justice, so i won't show it here.
A van drives off opposite, I get a clear view for once of the colorful fruiterer opposite before a car comes and takes its parking spot 1 minute later.
Amazing meal. The pocketbook takes a bigger than intended hit, and I decide to just hang around Paris next weekend and use travelling money and time to just eat well, instead.
Cafe-Brasserie La fontaine Sully, Corner of Rue St. Antoine and Rue de petit musc. Musc what? I don't know.
Popped down to meet Anson and Wincy for dinner after my fruitless reading afternoon (didn't bring correct books so ended up just reading ahead ahead ahead). Dinner was at a discovered place in Montmartre, touristy, but intriguing. First time i've had Raclette, but probably also the last.
Raclette is sort of like Fondue, only instead of a hot pot of melted cheese heated from below, it's a huge slab of cheese melted on the spot with this huge heating element that you put 5cm from the cheese. You scrape off the cheese, and slather it upon your food (in this case coldcut meats and potatoes). It's rather fun, but quite heavygoing and in this case quite salty, too. A picture says a thousand words:
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