An efficient Saturday

I went to meet friends at the Marche d’Aligre: a square that fills with vegetables and second-hand goods on the weekend. It's surrounded by a warehouse of various meats and cheeses, as well as many other mouth-watering items. Trying to find anyone was literally impossible– the place was packed, so I bought some avocados and wandered/was jostled from place to place until I ran into fellow UChicago-ers.


I was pointed in the direction of cheese, and eager to experience some decent dégustation, I headed for the largest selection. I know how to work these fromageries: I ask for something strong, and then keep on saying “plus fort” until I taste something satisfactory. Unfortunately, there seems to be a connection between “plus fort” and “plus cher,” so I have no pictures of the delicious l’estivaz I bought, having already consumed the tiny wedge that I could afford. One shouldn't go to markets with too much money on hand; without a doubt, Reason will be sacrificed by the gourmet that lurks in all of us. What is on display, is just as soon in your bag: like the bright and cheery girolle mushrooms I don't remember buying...

Appetites thoroughly inspired, we headed to the Marais to find some lunch. Following an excellent recommendation, we arrived at Le Café Musée, where us rowdy Americans were seated in the basement. There was already an older couple (from Chicago!) down there, finishing up a bottle of red wine. The restaurant was a little pricey, but we all found excellent lunches in the plat du jour and appetizers. I had the mussels… and it was one of the best seafood experiences I’ve had to date. I love mussels, but never before have they had this melt-in-your-mouth quality. Our table asked for two additional helpings of bread, just so we could sop up the saltiness that was waiting at the bottom of the (fairly deep) cast-iron pot.

Heading home, we stopped by a patisserie we had seen/smelled along the way. We had a good time asking the girls behind the counter which ones they preferred and which were filled with what. I settled on something fluffy and filled with praline cream that they described, grinning, as “méchante.” Evil.


Afterwards, tired and full and happy, there was really nothing else to do but nap for the rest of the day. C’est la bonne vie.