Père Lachaise

A tourist site I’ve always been fascinated by is the famous Père Lachaise cemetery, mostly because it features prominently in a segment of one of my all-time favorite films, Paris je t’aime. Spanning 116 acres in the 20th arrondissement, it’s almost like a ghost town with its designated streets and elaborate tombs that resemble houses. I think it’s cool, but it took me a month of being here to find a group of people who also wanted to visit.

Established in 1804, Père Lachaise holds the remains of some of France’s most famous citizens. The cemetery is so large that you kind of have to plan out ahead of time which graves you want to see lest you want to be wandering aimlessly for hours.

My top 4 were:
- Georges Méliès (pioneer filmmaker; inspiration for the movie Hugo)
- Frédéric Chopin
- Édith Piaf
- Oscar Wilde

As depicted in Paris je t’aime, it’s tradition for female fans of Wilde’s work to bestow lipsticked kisses upon the gravestone. But at some point in the recent past I guess someone decided this wasn’t a good thing and erected a barrier around the tomb. As you can see, though, that didn’t really stop the fangirls.
While it was moving to pay my respects to some of the artists that have had such a strong influence in my life, it was even more poignant to see evidence of their lasting legacies - from fresh flowers and burning candles to handwritten notes. See the rest of my photos on Flickr.

A proper picnic by the Eiffel tower (Taken with Instagram)

And yes, that is a whole roast chicken on the left.

(Source: http://instagr.am/p/NrF5hFqPHa/)

Fun Facts About Champagne That I Learned While Visiting Champagne

The day between final exams and graduation we took a day trip to the Champagne-Ardenne region to visit G.H. Mumm in Reims and Moët & Chandon in Épernay for tours and tastings. Unfortunately both tours presented pretty much identical information, but here’s a recap of interesting things I learned.

1. Champagne in Champagne is only made from three grape varieties (either alone or together in varying proportions): chardonnay, pinot noir and pinot meunier.

2. After fermentation there are sediments that are ultimately expelled through a long process of gradually turning the bottle until the particles collect in the neck, which is then dipped in a -20 degree solution, freezing it. The bottle is then quickly inverted, and the pressure expels the sediment-containing ice cube.

3. There are people whose job it is to turn the bottles by hand for the first part of the process. They can turn up to 50,000 bottles in a single day. I wish I had asked how much these people get paid for this.

4. Standard champagnes are stored in the cellar for a minimum of 2-3 years (maybe it was months…by this point I was too focused on getting to the tasting to pay much attention to the guide) before being sold. Vintages can stay much longer. At Moët & Chandon they had two bottles of ‘69 left, which can be purchased for just over 2000 euros!

5. Tastings in Champagne are much stingier and less efficient than in Napa. We went with an organized tour, but generally you have to call ahead and make appointments at each winery/champagne house. Additionally (though maybe because we were with such a large group) they only give you one glass of one product. Having been tasting in Napa I was expecting 4-5. I mean, how do you know what to buy afterwards unless you’ve tried them all?

Food Diary: Eating in the Dark

As a post final exam celebration, a group of us embarked on what I can only describe as the extreme of sensory experiences and adventurous eating: we had dinner at Dans le Noir.

A trendy restaurant with branches in Paris, London, Barcelona, New York and Saint Petersburg, Dans le Noir attempts to turn haute cuisine on its head by having patrons eat, well, in the dark. But it’s not just any kind of darkness; it’s the sort of pitch black that exists only in nightmares; the kind that even eyes with 20/20 vision cannot adjust to.

They say that you eat with your eyes first. Well, at Dans le Noir you end up eating with pretty much everything else. Adaptive plasticity is what enables blind people’s other senses to become heightened, and so too after being seated, it’s up to your nose, mouth and fingers to try to discern what’s on the plate in front of you. Because having a blind meal is only part of the fun - the other part is that you’re only told what you’re served after you’ve eaten it. So course by course you’re left guessing what the chef prepared.

In theory this kind of literal blind tasting should make you appreciate food for more than its aesthetics - the odors, the textures, etc. In practice, though, it’s a much less dignified experience. Eating without being able to see poses a number of challenges, like getting the food from the plate into your mouth and not onto your face.

Our server, despite her best efforts, managed to spill some wine on my lap and clip the back of my head with a plate. But this was nothing compared to poor George, one half of the British couple seated somewhere to my left, whose dessert sampler somehow got shoved right into his nose.

While the eating part of the meal was tricky, talking to people when you can’t see them was possibly even more disconcerting. I suppose we must have been speaking at an elevated volume to compensate, for our server kept urging us not to shout. So while I can’t ultimately recommend the food, I can say that the experience produces a lot of conversational gems, like the following.

“I just ate a lemon.”

“What is this shit?!”

“Ow! That was my nose!”

“I keep picking up my fork, and then it’s empty.”

“Who’s touching my leg?!”

“I hope this wine is going into my glass…”

“OH MY GOD! WAS THAT SQUID??”

“You’re talking right into my face. Are you trying to kiss me?”

“Alright, screw it. I’m using my fingers.”

So, if you’re ever in need of a creative first date…

Cooking School Diary: A Basic Pâtisserie Retrospective

Things I made in my first month of cooking school, as I study for my final exam tomorrow…



Diamonts; Tarte aux pommes; Madeleines & Cake aux fruits



Saint-Honoré; Chaussons aux pommes; Palmiers



Éclairs & Chouquettes; Dacquoise; Gateau basque



Tarte merginguée aux poires caramelisées; Palets aux raisins & Bâtons de maréchaux; Tartelettes à l’orange et au chocolat



Moka; CROISSANTS; Brioche



Charlotte aux poires; Mogador; Pithiviers



Sacristains; Bûche pistache-chocolat; Alhambra

Monet's Gardens at Giverny

Despite having bought tickets to Monet’s house and gardens weeks ago, we’ve been holding out for good weather. Our patience finally paid off, and on Saturday we set out for Giverny, a small rustic kind of town (about 45 minutes away from Paris by train) that vaguely reminded me of Avebury, England (near Stone Henge).

Yes, those water lilies.

Monet’s estate was quite crowded, but luckily we got to skip the queue because we bought and printed our tickets ahead of time. Despite all the visitors, the grounds were still very serene and peaceful - enough so to make me, a lifelong city girl, begin to entertain the idea of someday owning a country home. After wandering the gardens (I’m afraid my photos really don’t do them justice), Monet’s house and the gift shop, we stopped at a quaint café for lunch before heading back to the train station.

This whole experience of living abroad is really the first time I haven’t felt like I’m rushing toward an imminent finish line (in high school everything was motivated toward getting into a good college, and then in college it was graduating with a degree), so being in the country away from the hustle and bustle of Paris was a nice reminder that sometimes you just need to relax and enjoy the simpler things in life, like flowers. Seemed to work pretty well for Monet, right?

Food Diary: Falafel

Yesterday M and I met up in the Marais area for lunch at what is generally regarded by foodies as the best falafel in Paris. Located on the trendy Rue des Rosiers (see previous post), just the queue outside L’As du Fallafel at midday should be an indication that the restaurant is better than all the rest.

If you don’t feel like awkwardly eating on the street trying not to be a a slob in public (a challenge, given how much they pack into each pita), skip the takeout window and head inside to grab a table.

Cooking School Diary: Les chefs

The first few days of school I thought the chefs were all sort of the same: tall, and sometimes portly, stern, and very French. (The uniforms don’t help distinguish individuals either). But I’ve since realized they each have their own little quirks.

I think of the first chef we had as Grumpy Chef. To be fair he wasn’t feeling well that day, and it turns out he’s actually quite nice and funny. During demo after he’s put the day’s lesson in the oven, he likes to wax philosophical on why we’re at LCB and give us motivational speeches. It sounds silly but sometimes (see Scary Chef) it’s exactly what you need to hear going into your next practical.

Moody Chef was my favorite, before it became evident just how moody he really is. In demos he acts like a clown, cracking jokes and making funny faces. In practicals he’s constantly barking things like, “Dépêchez-vous!” (Hurry!) and, “Arretez!” (Stop!). Usually he’s kidding, but it’s hard to tell when he’s not. Some of my peers theorize that he is bi-polar. I can’t say I disagree.

My current favorite, then, is Cute Chef. Not only is he one of the younger chefs on staff (no more than mid-30s, I’d say), but also the general consensus amongst the overwhelmingly female Intensive Basic Pâtisserie class is that he has very pretty eyes. Cute Chef is to LCB as Gilderoy Lockhart is to Hogwarts. He doesn’t smile as much as he should could, but he has a very dry wit and sarcastic sense of humor. Oh, and his staff bio says he’s won multiple competitions for ice sculpting. Admit it: you’re intrigued.

In contrast we have a teacher I’ll call Scary Chef. (Honestly, though, I don’t even know his real name). Scary Chef rarely speaks, and when he does it’s only to say “OK” or “Non!” “Très bien,” or even “bien,” do not exist in his kitchen. Throughout the three-hour practicals he makes continuous rounds about the room, stopping only to peer over unsuspecting students’ shoulders. As you might imagine, the collective nerves in his presence are tangible.

Presentations at the end are even worse. Scary Chef appraises each student’s work one by one, and instead of offering constructive criticism like a normal instructor, he will place your biggest mistake in front of you (whether it’s an éclair that wasn’t filled enough or two cookies that aren’t the same size), look down at the substandard product, and then fix his steely gaze on you. Any thoughts of defending or justifying your pastry immediately disappear, leaving you only with the ability to meekly reply, “Oui, chef,” and then hang your head while wishing you could go crawl into a dark cupboard and stay there for the rest of the day.

Oops. Almost forgot about Nice Chef. Nice Chef never rushes you during practicals, and actually shows you how to do specific techniques, rather than glowering at you when you do them incorrectly (see above). He also has sort of a lazy eye, so it’s sometimes hard to tell when he’s addressing you.

Last is Tall Chef, who we haven’t officially had yet. All the instructors are pretty tall (and I don’t just mean relative to myself), but this guy’s chef’s hat practically brushes the ceiling. He’s one of the few who instructs both cuisine and pâtisserie, and often likes to pop into our demos when teaching the former. Allegedly it’s to pester Grumpy Chef, but I secretly think it’s because pâtisserie classrooms are kept air-conditioned while cuisine rooms aren’t. One of my peers complained that Tall Chef only gets away with such behavior because he’s good-looking (uncontested by me). Regardless, anyone is an improvement over Scary Chef.

Bastille Day

Met up with a group of friends from class for a picnic on the Champ des Mars while we waited for the fireworks to start. Truly a French experience with baguettes, cheese, fruit, chocolate, bottles of rosé that we managed to smuggle in and, of course, a French flag courtesy of A’s “five finger discount.” The fireworks were pretty impressive themselves - a solid 30 minute program set to disco music. Festivities ended close to midnight, and the mass exodus from the park afterward was enough to convince me it was a better use of time to walk home than try to force my way onto a packed train. I probably would have been fine going it alone, but two friends kindly walked all the way back with me, even though one lives in the complete opposite direction.

Overall: good people, good times, good weekend.

Of Rainy Nights and Partying with Firemen

Friday night after baking a kilo of brioche dough in various shapes and sizes for practical, a couple friends and I met up in the 6th for a strange Bastille Day tradition: the fireman’s ball at the fire stations. Apparently the night before and of the holiday, fire stations across the city open their gates and host what basically amounts to a huge dance party complete with DJ and drinks.

I think I mentioned before that the weather’s been pretty un-summery, and Friday was no exception. Pushing your way through the station’s packed courtyard was made even more difficult by all the umbrellas. (I gave up pretty quickly and accepted the fact that I would get drenched over the course of the evening).

I don’t usually enjoy club/frat-like environments, but the party was actually pretty fun. The firemen didn’t engage much with the crowd, mostly staying behind the bar and serving drinks. But the few that we talked to seemed very nice, not to mention ridiculously good-looking.

We left around midnight in search of some hot food to warm our rain-soaked exteriors, ending up at a little Italian place where we shared penne carbonara and lamb skewers. Definitely a step up from my usual drunk food of choice, chicken nuggets.

Sometimes the best nights are the ones that are most spontaneous.

Lazy Sunday Adventures

Lazy Sunday Adventures Part 1: Musée d’Orsay

Taken through one of the building's giant clocks. Reminded me of that Scorsese movie Hugo.

I like it because it’s smaller and less crowded the the Louvre, plus it focuses on my favorite periods (Impressionism, Neo-Impressionism, Post-Impressionism, etc.). The space is also really cool because it used to be a train station.

Definitely the prettiest of the museum's cafés. Feels like you're dining at Versailles.

Part 2: Passerelle Solférino

Locks on locks on locks.

We were walking along the Seine from the Orsay to Les Invalides and Musée Rodin when we came across this bridge. It’s tradition for couples to leave locks here with their names. Didn’t bring a lock with you? No problem. There are vendors selling them on the spot.


Part 3: Musée Rodin

At a mere 1€ to stroll around the gardens, this place is quite a steal. I had already seen a lot of the sculptures thanks to Stanford’s Cantor Arts Center, but the one thing we didn’t have on campus? The Eiffel Tower in the background.

Taken somewhere between the Rodin Museum and Les Invalides.

It’s also right next to Les Invalides, now a war museum that also houses Napoleon’s tomb, so if you’re in the area I’d recommend checking that out too.

Food Diary: Le Relais de L'Entrecôte

Yesterday I only had one class, after which I met up with a Stanford friend who was visiting Paris with his family for an afternoon of shopping and strolling. Well, I did most of the shopping, but he was a good sport about it.

At my roommate’s suggestion, we started at Montparnasse-Bienvenue and headed toward Saint Germain on Rue de Rennes, making a brief detour at the Jardin du Luxembourg. Rue de Rennes and its many side streets are full of cool, trendy boutiques - perhaps almost too much so. I caught my first real glimpse of French hipsters, and I’d say they’re probably more intimidating (more hip?) than American hipsters.

Rue de Rennes is also notable because it ends at Boulevard Saint-Germain, where the famous Café de Flore and Les Deux Magot (old haunts of philosophers, intellectuals and writers) sit side by side. Originally I thought it would be a nice way to end the evening - eating at a restaurant that Ernest Hemingway used to frequent - but a glance at the pricey menu suggested otherwise.

We continued wandering the neighborhood looking for more affordable fare when, just around the corner, we stumbled upon the popular Le Relais de L’Entrecôte. Judging by the high concentration of English-speakers it’s a big draw for tourists, although I’m not exactly sure why. What it offers is a fixed-price set menu consisting of salad as appetizer, followed by the main dish: steak (drenched in the secret house sauce) and french fries. Not to mention you get a refill on the latter.

We agreed that the food (although tasty!) wasn’t quite worth the long wait to get seated but, all things considered, it was a good end to a good day.

Food Diary: Cantine California

At the recommendation of a fellow classmate, my friend and I tracked down the California Canteen food truck at Marché Raspail near the Jardin du Luxembourg. The owner grew up in San Francisco (hence burgers named Half Moon Bay and California), but decided to start this business in order to fuse American cuisine with high quality French ingredients.

We shared the carnitas tacos and Half Moon Bay burger. Both were delicious. Easily the best meal I’ve had in Paris so far.