Locomotoring

Croissant at Le Parisiene

Day 2: Breakfast at neighborhood cafe – Le Parisiene – coffee, croissant and omelette. This is the second thing on the list of living like a Parisian. First being the early morning trip to boulangerie for a baguette.

On day two, the breakfast is at 7:30 a.m. and on day six, at 9. There is no feeling of rushing about at any hour of the morning. Am I projecting my lack of urgency on the world around me? Everyone around me seems to have time to sit about, to chat with the cafe owner or read a paper. Judging from their shoes, they are Parisians. Yes, the shoes give you away. Tourist is in “comfortable” shoes and Parisians in good looking ones. There is a cafe or two on every block, each with customers. How does the economics work? Most prefer to sit out, including the tourists. It had seemed attractive when looking at Paris on television. But the first five real minutes are sufficient for me, I am soon overpowered by the smoke blown my way by the skinny Parisians.

Le Parisiene

Chocolate and butter, can this get any better?

The tables are really closely spaced. In some cases, there is no space between the tables. While a totally unacceptable thought anywhere in America, why is it perfectly acceptable to be eating with your neighbors when on vacation to Paris? Perhaps the fact that one is vacationing makes us happy and genial. And there is a false sense of security in bits and pieces of understandable French that float by. Bon jour, if I don’t understand what my neighbor is saying, perhaps they don’t understand me either, Merci.

Croissant – 2 tsp of flour, 1 tsp of water, a pinch of salt, 1 cup of air and 1 cup of butter. Gently wave the magic wand to make thin parchment like layers of dough to trap the air and butter. Bake to crispness. Is the croissant good all around Paris or just at this epicenter of air-butter bubble? The famous Poilâne, on Rue Cherche Midi, is just around the corner. Pierre Hermé a few more steps away.

A light and otherwise unadorned omelette. Not stuffed to the point of bursting and overflowing your plate. Not even bits of nuts or cheese or bacon or fruits. Either you want it with fine herbs or just some fleur de sel. Accompanied with a salad – a simple vinaigrette with abundance of mustard but otherwise straightforward. For a more complex egg preparation, poached and accompanied by hollandaise sauce and mushroom compote, I had to wait until brunch time. These early morning salads give a false impression regarding Parisian’s love for vegetables. Many meals later, I conclude that the handful of leaves is all one gets for serving of vegetable in any meal. Add to that a tenth of a carrot and a eighth of an onion that goes into a typical sauce serving.

Coffee is either good or excellent. Always. Again, is the coffee-meter in my head screwed up because of the vacation? Normally it is sips of the drip coffee at workplace in between phone calls and meetings.