Autumn in Paris

The first signs of autumn were visible on Avenue Montaigne as I was walking to L'Astrance for lunch last Thursday. It was my last day of the month-long trip that took me from Hong Kong to New York, Buenos Aires, the lakeside slopes of Bariloche, the polo fields of Cordoba, an elegant estancia in the Pampas, a steamboat in Monte Carlo and now culminating in a lunch at a Michelin one star restaurant -- L'Astrance.

Skyping with BDL, I had typed on my last morning in Paris: "I love, love, love Paris".
To which he enquired, "did you get lucky?"
I replied, "Scoring a reservation at L'Astrance was very lucky!"

I have been trying to get a table at l'Astrance each time I've been in Paris, since the days before Pascal Barbot was awarded a Michelin star. On this trip, I called up a couple days before my arrival in Paris and asked for a table for 3. None was available during my entire stay. Finally, I asked for a table just for one. And that's how I managed to get a table at L'Astrance on my last day in Paris, for the last meal of my month-long trip.

Suffice it to say, the 5+ course lunch was phenomenal. The "+" represents all the little surprises they sneak in before, during and after your meal). There was one particular "+" that was especially memorable. With each course, the waiters would present the dish and give a brief explanation. But for this particular bowl of frothy cream with a dollop of vanilla ice cream in its midst, the waiter coyly placed it in front of me and said with a mischievous smile, "I don't know what this is." When he came back to collect the bowl, he asked, "So what do you think it is?". I shrugged and guessed that it was something with almonds. It had reminded me of the Chinese dessert of almond soup, except it was creamier in colour and a bit airy in texture. He smiled, shook his head and said, "I'll give you another chance." I finished off a second bowl. This time, without the vanilla ice cream. And still, it tasted like almonds to me or at least some kind of nut pureed with cream, because there was a fine graininess to the creamy froth. I won't ruin the surprise here, but I was really, really shocked when he told me what I had been eating. Totally unexpected, but once he said it, it made perfect sense.

All the other dishes were more easily identifiable, but no less spectacular in taste. There was foie gras, beans, langoustine, turbot, duck and a sampler of four desserts (my favourite was the lemongrass and chili sorbet). Alexander the sommelier, who tasted and spit out everything before he served it, served me a glass of 2005 pinot noir from Anne Gros. By the end of the meal, I was ready to roll out of the restaurant.

I rushed back to finish packing. I left with a sadness that comes from leaving family or friends after a particularly wonderful stay and not knowing when you'll see them again. As the taxi pulled into CDG, it suddenly started to pour. How apt, I thought. Time flies, seasons change. How quickly a month passes by. On my travels, I've experienced a year of seasons -- winter in Bariloche, spring in the Pampas, summer in New York and signs of autumn in Paris. I've felt a year condensed into a month.

Now I'm back in Hong Kong catching up on my blog, back to this city's stifling heat and haze, yet still pining for the wonderful walks along Paris' sun-drenched cobblestoned pavements, the smell and the crunch of the baguettes washed down with cups of cafe creme. I was in the midst of writing about polo when I got a call from DT wanting a Paris update since he's heading there tomorrow. Of course, I mentioned l'Astrance. But when I got off the phone and back to my post on Cordoba, all I could think of was all the things I'm missing in Paris. So here's my list, in no particular order:
1. Falafels from Chez Marianne in Marais on the corner of rue des Rosiers and rue Hospitalier St Gervais
2. Matcha macarons from Patisserie Sadaharu Aoki (actually, I'm missing real Japanese matcha). Everyone loves macarons from Laduree, but I can't get over their dowdy packaging.
3. Breizh Cafe's crispy gallette rolls smeared with a healthy spread of seaweed butter.
4. Baguettes slathered with French salted butter with a spoonful of artisanal honey. In this instance, it had been brought back by a friend from her recent visit to Michel Gros.
5. Crossing the bridges of the Seine by moonlight.
6. Walking everywhere and having it be a pleasant experience. On one particular day, I managed to clock up a half marathon worth of walking! A lot of Parisians swear by velib, the cool bicycle service. There are velib bicycle stations all around town, but I was a bit too intimidated by Parisian drivers to try.

When I left, I was still looking for a patisserie that made caramel au sel eclairs. The Fauchon in Shinjuku's Takashimaya had served them, and they're one of their best-sellers, but I was on a quest to find one from a more neighborhood patisserie. I found all other flavours from the usual chocolate and cafe to strawberry and even green tea at Sadaharu Aoki, but I never did find my caramel au sel. But, as I consoled a friend who will soon be moving from Paris to Shanghai, Paris will always be here. So there's always next time!

Paris...je t'adore!

Paris just makes me smile. It's one of the few cities that isn't dreary even when it's overcast and raining. It's also a hopeless place to try and eat healthy with all it's tasty temptations -- eclairs, palmiers, macarons etc. And then, there's the bread. Just when I started to think that globalization has turned city travel around the world into one homogenous experience, I am reminded that it's the little things that distinguish one city from the next. For me, Paris is all about baguettes, slathered with a generous amount of slightly salty French butter. Japan is about the Toto washlets. Every time I visit Japan, I've wondered why Toto washlets don't dominate the toilets of the world like McDonalds dominates fast food. Argentina is about dulce de leche and I found my favourite alfajores in Bariloche. Hong Kong is all about the dim sum; I would not eat dim sum anywhere else in the world.

So as I catch up on my posts this week in Paris, I'll be indulging in all the edible goodies this city has to offer over cups and cups of cafe creme. I just wish that Parisian cafes would install free wifi (but I suppose that would take away from the Parisian experience, where penning thoughts into a Moleskine notebook seems more appropriate than twittering on an iPhone). Unlike Buenos Aires, public access hotspots, free or not, are hard to come by in this city. I did chance upon one hotspot though, where I managed to do a few mobile uploads to facebook while standing outside chatting on the phone:

myberry on rue Vieille du Temple in Marais: one of the few places with free wifi and one of the few low-fat indulgences on this street of patisseries, artisanal chocolate and gelato shops.