Glorious food

Berthillon has been making ice cream on the ile Ste Louis for three generations. We had heard it was the best, but we had no idea until we tasted it what that meant. Lisa's first cone was caramel beurre sale (salted butter caramel). The consistency was somewhere between normal ice cream and soft serve; hard enough to stay in a golf-ball sized ball, but melts instantly and silkily on the tongue. And the flavor was so intense she had to stop walking and just lean against a wall and taste. We also tried chocolate, which was just like chocolate fondue in taste and consistency, only frozen. Amazing! Theresa was a huge fan of the sorbets: lemon and thyme, grapefruit, blackberry.

Flavors:


One afternoon, Tristan, Theresa and Lisa went for tea at Mariage Freres, one of the oldest tea stores and salons de the in Paris. The tea menu was like a small book; we hardly knew where to begin!



We really are all in this photo:


The three of us also had a once-in-a-lifetime lunch at Taillevant, a three-star restaurant. We later learned that Taillevant was the nickname of Guillaume Tirel, who was chef to Kings Philippe VI de Valois, Charles V, and Charles VI in the 13th century. He wrote a cookbook called Le Viandier, one of the first cookbooks ever written. After a blissful three hours of incredible food and wine, with the best service any of us can ever remember--friendly without being overly familiar, graceful, gracious, and attentive without a hint of obsequiousness (is that a word?), we more or less floated out of the restaurant and towards the Champs-Elysses. When we were about a block away we remembered that we had wanted a photo in front of the restaurant since we just couldn't bring ourselves to be so gauche as to take a picture inside. We went running back, only to find that all the lights were turned off (we had been the very last diners). The front door was open, though, so Lisa went in and found the head waiter. "I'm so sorry, but I have one more tiny request. Would you mind taking our picture in front of the restaurant?" This man, who had been friendly and fun and charming all through the meal pulled himself up, puffed out his chest, looked down his nose and huffed, "Non." Completely embarrassed, Lisa shrunk to half her size, apologized, and started to leave when she heard him burst into laughter and say, "Of course!" It was the perfect end to a perfect meal.


Lisa and Theresa, blissful after a romantic lunch at Le Jules Verne on the second level of the Eiffel Tower


And the food was really good, too!


Dinner on Tristan's last night in Paris


Tea at Laduree. That thing with all the squiggles is NOT whole wheat spaghetti. It's sweetened chestnut puree extruded to look (in my mind quite theoretically) like mountain peaks. The dessert is called "Mont Blanc."


Enjoying some fine macarons on the Champs-Elysses


Our neighborhood bakery. Coincidentally one of the best in Paris.



Waiting in line for our afternoon baguette


They chased me out right after I took this photo. Oops.


A bread baker, hard at work



Jamon Iberico on the hoof at Bellota-Bellota. It comes from pigs that free graze on acorns. The ham is aged for two years before it's sold, which is why it is unavailable in the US (Damn you, FDA!). We saw it being sold for anywhere from 170 euros/kilo to 250 euros/kilo (Galeries Lafayette). Ouch. But we couldn't resist trying it at this restaurant where we got to taste the famed black-footed ham next to some other high end Spanish hams. The jamon iberico's flavor was pretty amazing--very complex, starting with salty, followed by a little hint of sweetness and finishing with a remarkably deep nuttiness. Neither of us cared much for the texture, though. It had been sliced with the grain (we saw them slicing at the counter while we ate) and although it was read-the-newspaper-through-it thin, it required a LOT of chewing. Why is it sliced with the grain? Anyone know?




We had one of our best meals of the trip at this thoroughly modern bistro 2 blocks from the apartment



Here is the menu. Lisa learned the hard way that "hure de cochon" is head cheese. It was delicious anyway!



On our way up to lunch at Altitude 59, on the first level of the Eiffel Tower


Breakfast at a neighborhood cafe on Jim, Cathy and Alex's last day in Paris