August 27, 2010 by Tory Hoen
French apéro cafe scene, Paris. Mecredis
If there’s something the French know how to do well, it’s give themselves a break (or rather, a pause). They see downtime as a preventative measure, a means to avoiding exasperation (as opposed to an emergency response to it). Whereas many of us wear ourselves so thin that we desperately need whatever it is (a break, a drink, a vacation), in France, it’s more about “we deserve this” than “we need this.”
L’heure de l’apéro (the French equivalent of cocktail hour) is the moment when the French consciously create some space between the workday and the dinner hour, demonstrating their talent for slowing down and, somehow, miraculously expanding time. On nice days, the apéro coincides with the moment when the city is suddenly bathed in that rosy, only-in-Paris light, and you suddenly feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be in the world.
Non-traditional apéro settings are also appropriate: river banks, parks, benches… Boklm
Practically speaking, though, the idea of the apéro (a colloquial form of apéritif) is to whet the appetite for the meal to come. (The word comes from the latin aperire, which means to open). When at a café or bar, it’s typical to have glass of wine or champagne, a beer, or a kir (white wine with a splash of Crème de Cassis). Old-school traditionalists go for a pastis (an anise-flavored liqueur mixed with water and ice), and among my friends, Lillet (a sweet wine infused with citrus liqueur) has taken off of late. Take note: l’heure de l’apéro is not a time to pound American-style cocktails, which makes sense, considering a whiskey sour will do little to prep your palette for any kind of serious dégustation. And while cocktail culture is on the rise in France, mixed drinks have not historically been part of the French tradition. Continue Reading »
Posted in Food, Parisian Living | 7 Comments »
June 18, 2010 by Tory Hoen
I’m recently back in New York from Paris and am suffering a particularly acute bout of withdrawal. I think part of the problem is that the structure of my days changes completely when I cross the ocean. On the European side, time expands and flows and I rarely even know (or care) what day it is. Here, on the rational side of the Atlantic, I’m over-scheduled from morning until night. It goes something like this.
New York Day
• Wake up when my alarm goes off (or when my upstairs neighbor’s alarm goes off—the perils of living in a poorly insulated industrial loft).
• Go running, as need to expend all energy for the day before settling into a chair for the next ten hours.
• Eat cereal. Healthy, practical cereal.
• If have time, stop for an espresso at Euro-favorite Cafe Gitane. Pretend to be Parisian. It’s not the same.
• Brave the Canal Street crush, which involves dodging aggressive pashmina vendors and dozens of dawdling tourists.
• During overcrowded subway ride, contemplate moving back to Paris for the thousandth time. Listen to Serge Gainsbourg to twist the knife in my heart even more.
• Get to work. In essence, I like my job, but I have such restlessness and A.D.D. that it kills me to think I have to spend a day in a chair, when I could otherwise be spending it roaming quiet Parisian streets.
• Post-work, sprint to event / drinks / dinner. Inevitably show up late. Friends annoyed, because they won’t give you a table in New York until all party members arrive. Friends even more annoyed when I accidentally double air kiss them.
• Then stay out too late.
• Then go to bed, way too late.
Paris Day
• Go wandering. On my last trip, I loved heading south from Belleville, crossing the Canal St. Martin, and conveniently finding myself at Du Pain et Des Idées, one of Paris’ best rustic boulangeries.
• Decadent pain au chocolat in hand, I begin my loitering for the day by lounging on the edge of the canal.
• Get restless, so wander through the Marais, stopping at Cafeotheque for a café du jour, before strolling across the Pont Louis-Philippe to the Ile St. Louis, where I install myself at the western tip of the island and gaze off into space for a while.
• When restless again, meander to the Left Bank, stopping to take in the Institut du Monde Arabe, and then strolling over to my old neighborhood, where I stop in at the market at Place Monge and the traiteurs along rue Mouffetard. One shop owner still refers to me as “la plus belle” whenever I see him (I’m always up for some good French-style ego-stroking).
• Inevitably end up lounging by the Fontaine des Médicis, stopping in for macarons at Pierre Hermé, poking around Repetto, and making a pit-stop at Deyrolle (to fuel my inexplicable taxidermy obsession).
• Before you know it, it’s time for an apéro. Convene with friends at Le Baron Rouge for wine. Everyone will be late; no one will care.
Continue Reading »
Posted in Parisian Living | 9 Comments »
April 15, 2010 by Tory Hoen
There are a few places in Paris that make you feel like an insider the minute you step through the door. It’s an incredibly gratifying feeling, given that other elements of life here can feel downright impenetrable to those of us who aren’t born and bred (make that incredibly well-bred) Parisians. So when I “discovered” Le Baron Rouge and instantly felt like a regular, I knew I had hit the jackpot.
It turns out that quite a few people have hit the same jackpot, but as popular as this unassuming spot is, it maintains its low-key, local vibe. French still dominates among the staff and clientele, and the guys behind the bar are no-nonsense but still friendly (especially the one with the beard… you can’t miss him). There’s not a lot of hand-holding here, but there’s no judgment either (to me, that’s the perfect balance), and servers are happy to help you navigate the long and interesting wine list scrolled on chalkboards near the bar.
Continue Reading »
Posted in Food, Restaurant Reviews | 6 Comments »
February 10, 2010 by Tory Hoen
Erica Berman & Alain Ollier
I’ve always loved Europe in the winter—and Paris in particular. And by winter, I mean real winter: January and February, when the holiday crowds have cleared out and it’s gray, gray, gray all day. I can sense you raising your eyebrows as you read this, but bear with me. Not only is it a particularly tranquil time to be in Paris, but you can also find great deals, with airfare rates down and many accommodations offering discounted rates for visitors to the city.
Most peoples’ visions of Paris probably involve leisurely summer picnics, springtime flowers, and long strolls along the Seine on warm evenings. I would be lying if I said thoughts of these things don’t make my heart race, but winter has its own distinct charms, and on cold February days, I love feeling like I have the entire city to myself.
Plus: in the deepest, darkest depths of winter, we have an excuse to indulge in activities that might otherwise seem just a bit too decadent. Hot chocolate for breakfast? Bring it on… we have to stay warm somehow! Some favorite things (and guilty pleasures) to explore this winter… Continue Reading »
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