HUNGRY GERALD

There are three great department store food halls in Europe: KaDaWe in Berlin (never been); Harrod’s in London (HG’s been many times and will visit again in a few weeks) and Bon Marche (HG’s favorite) on the Left Bank in Paris. After some energetic shopping at Agnes. B. (last two days of “soldes”…the annual sales season in Paris when fashion is marked down as much as 70%), HG and BSK entered Bon Marche to provision tonight’s dinner. Everything anyone has ever dreamed of eating is at Bon Marche. Everything is the best of its kind. The prices are astronomically high. Customers are courteous but demanding. They want the very best and are willing to pay for it.

The staff is informed gracious and skilled. Smoked salmon is sliced with surgical precision. Ham is cut beautifully..never too thin or too thick. Chocolates have an other worldly beauty. Charcuterie dazzles. Meat, fish, fruit and vegetable departments contain still life arrangements that deserve a place in the Louvre. So, enough already. What did HG and BSk buy for dinner? Norwegian smoked salmon, Gravlax (and mustard sauce); Parma ham; roasted Spanish piquillo peppers; jambon persille (a ham, parsley and aspic loaf); a duck loaf enclosed in a pastry crust; cornichons; Maille mustard, chutney and some other good things. Wine from Cave des Abbesses and breads from Grenier a Pain are waiting.

Jolly times ahead.

Dinner at Le Stella. A warm welcome from Christian, Stella’s elegant and gracious maitre d’. HG’s advice to Sarko: Appoint Christian Ambassador to the United States and watch relations improve immediately. Dinner began with complimentary flutes of champagne and then perfectly shucked and chilled oysters with brown bread and sweet butter.

Bulots and mayonnaise. A carafe of Touraine Sauvignon Blanc. Steak with sauce bearnaise and the best frites in Paris. A carafe of Brouilly. Finale: An Ile Flottante (Floating Island) which was the approximate size of Australia. HG and BSK met the challenge. Many restaurant critics have mourned the decline of Parisian brasseries, once a source of delight. Most have been taken over by chains more interested in assembly line production and profit than in providing a true Parisian experience. Stella has gone counter to this trend. It just keeps getting better. Christian and his smiling crew provide service that is not only deft but is warmly human. The food consists of tried and true classics. Put it all together and you have a food experience that is unique to Paris. The brasserie style is alive and well at Le Stella.

Off to the Pinocatheque de Paris for a day of art—selections from St. Petersburg’s Hermitage Museum, art collected by the Romanovs, and art collected by Hungary’s noble family, the Esterhazys. A joy. Paintings by Rembrandt, Titian, Steen, Hals, Rubens and many others never seen before in the west. The Pinocatheque also has a permanent collection which is eccentric but wonderful. First of all, paintings from all periods are hung together. And, they are hung closely, some only a foot or less apart. Rothko, Pollock (a stunning early work); Munch (a sun-washed nude… quite unlike his usual work); Van Gogh (a small, riveting work); Monet, Courbet, Delacroix,Vuillard, Bonnard, Soutine, Magritte, Leger, Derain, Roualt and other giants keep company with 15th, 16th and 17th century work.
HG and BSK found the interplay of styles and periods stimulating. Back to Montmartre for wine shopping at Cave des Abbesses. Wonderfully curated. Logically organized. Bargain prices. If HG lived in Paris permanently wine induced alcoholism would be a happy prospect. HG bought a baguette, croissants and a country grain and walnut loaf from Le Grenier a Pain, voted best baguette bakery in Paris. Of course, the bread is sublime. But, the croissants are a revelation. Buttery, crisp with a slightly moist interior. Tonight, it will be a pre-Valentine dinner at Le Stella, unquestionably the best brasserie in Paris. Full report to follow tomorrow. Bon appetit, buddies.

Grey, slightly misty Paris day. Unpacking (always an annoying chore only matched by equally annoying packing). While BSK went off to buy a hair dryer, HG perched at an outdoor table at his favorite cafe/wine shop Cave des Abbesses, on lively Rue Abbesses. Ah, Montmartre. Before strolling to Cave, HG listened to a trio (two guitars and a bass) jazzing at Place des Abbesses. Django time! At the Cave, HG had six splendid oysters (a bargain 7 Euros) a pichet of excellent Touraine Sauvignon Blanc, dry with only a hint of fruit. The passing parade of lovers, intellectuals, artists, loafers and working folk was free. Further entertainment was provided by a funky jazz trio of trumpet, clarinet and castanets.

Joined by BSK, a shopping expedition provided a roast chicken, roast potatoes, a head of frisee, six perfectly ripe wedges of cheese (St. Marcellin, Reblochon,etc.); an array of wine (inexpensive in Paris). Dinner at home. Early to bed. Lots of art to see tomorrow. Maybe the Mondrian/ de Stijl show at the Beaubourg. You will be informed.