I believe: When In Rome Do As The Romans Do, without question it applies equally When In Paris…. NEVER hesitate to “revel in” and “celebrate” the Parisian Lifestyle. There’s no place quite like it on earth….
Hungarian Gyorgyi, and Canadian moi, begin each day dressing French-Feminine. Incorporating a silk scarf, striking semi-comfortable shoes, and we top it off with a nonchalant attitude as we stroll arm and arm to our favourite café for our morning indulgence of caffeine. Not once have we found ourselves bored along the amusing and lively streets of Saint Germain. Over the past weeks, we have sampled several cafés that border the bustling and energetic street of Rue de Buci. We find ourselves partial to Café de Paris for several reasons.
• The seasoned waiters greet us with effortless smiles, and heartfelt bonjours while motioning us to our table. This in itself is not unusual in Paris, however they never fail to recognize us. Silly perhaps, nonetheless it provides the ever so seductive French allure…. Apparently I’ve read one to many schmaltzy romance novels!!
• Without fail, our preferred table located directly under the heaters, and facing the street, is unoccupied….. As if reserved especially for our arrival.
• The ‘une noisette’ (espresso with milk), is served in heated demitasses (tiny cups). The accompanying aroma is rich, smooth, and multi-textured.
• This baristas flawless café express (espresso), is served with a hint of golden coloured crema (the slight foam created as a result of the pressure of masterful brewing).
• A stainless pitcher of milk has been gently steamed. Unlike the pasteurized milk served in Canada, milk in France is silky, velvety, and inviting as it summons, and soothes ones senses from the inside out.
• The combined experience of rich espresso, and steamed milk lingers on my tongue, as well as in my mind. I’m confident our ritual will be repeated tomorrow with equal flair.
It’s every visitors obligation to dine al fresco (outside), at least three times while in Paris: in the morning, in late afternoon, and then again after dark. If you find yourself without a partner, lover, or best friend, not a problem, Paris is equally inviting when you are on your own. The beauty of the small tables is you never feel out-of-place. It appears to be more of a choice than a predicament, and I like to think of it as mysterious, and chic. Yesterday I sipped a glass of wine by myself, the cafe was crowed and the street bursting. For some strange reason I was feeling rather sassy, so I sat rather motionless, and unfazed never making direct eye contact, as if to say, “Don’t anyone dare interrupt, or even so much as look at me”. It was a very French moment….
• I’d love to hear your experiences traveling in Paris or anywhere in the world. Where would you recommend I go next?