Thursday, June 28, 2012

Paris

Once again, no measuring cups or spoons. Our London flat didn't have them either but we assumed Greg and Shareen just didn't cook at home. Their kitchen had all the amenities except measuring devices. But it's the same here. Is this a Euro thing? This is a great flat, four fire places, high ceilings, lots of huge windows, bright decor, hard wood floors, tiny balconies for potted plants. The kitchen is tiny but clever, Ikea style,  but no measuring cups or spoons. And no water glasses (plenty of wine glasses). A French thing? Already M. Lee is in deep withdrawal from London, "The best of all possible worlds", while Paris is "a pinched purgatory" so no measuring spoons is insult to injury. Plus, his mom went out early this morning for a nice fresh loaf of bread but nothing was open. We were shocked to see that business close so early and open so late. And to top it off, unlike London stunning multicultural cuisine, Paris seems to be a one-horse town for vegetarians.

My corner in Paris
My Paris corner

But hey! It's Paris and I'm half French. I'm feeling right at home. I woke up in a great mood. For whatever reason, my hands are much more limber here. In London I woke up with wooden claws affixed to the ends of my wrists. And I have set up a nice little corner base of operations which has a great view of the flat. A pigeon is roosting next door. And I saw a woman feeding birds in the train station. That would be a £500 fine in Trafalgar Square. Luckily, I did not get caught slipping the occasional bread crumb to the occasional bird. I realized, being forced into stealth mode, that pigeons take eye-contact to be an invitation to lunch.

So today, we're going out now in search of a natural food market. We had camembert cheese sandwiches for lunch. Such a desperate luxury.

Bonne journée Henri, mon petit ami en dépit de tout cela. (translation)




More Henri, if you can bare it.

3 comments:

Roy said...

Henri! You can come to my house, where cats are pretty much in charge.

I am not a robot. I am not a robot. I am not a robot.

Roy said...

Anyway, looks like your Paris digs are pretty cool. What is the color of that lamp? Is that chartreuse? Keep sending pics.

asha said...

Roy, I was shocked to learn just now that chartreuse is the color halfway between yellow and green. I always thought it was a flaming pink. So, to answer your question, no. The lamp is not chartreuse it is hot pink or, as we say in Paris, rose chaud. Actually, in this case, rose chaud chaud chaud.

As for Henri, your offer is very generous and no doubt he will enjoy visiting you but I'm pretty sure he will want to come live with me. Who else so deeply shares his ennui?

Photos? Oui, oui!