Recently in Paris category

Yoga Classes In Paris

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(Please note that this list was recently updated in 2013. However prices, addresses, and policies are subject to change. You may wish to visit the website or call the school for additional information.)

If you feel the need to work off that croissant au beurre you’re likely to indulge in every morning or the daily éclair au chocolat you’ve been treating yourself to each afternoon, for visitors to Paris that practice yoga, there’s plenty of places scattered about the city with classes all day long so you can downward-dog all that buttery richness away.

You’ll find most of the yoga studios in Paris tucked away in old courtyards while others are sleek and modern. In my experience, you’re less-likely to find a ‘power yoga’-style class which feels like a heavy-duty workout in Paris as you’ll find in many US cities, but it probably best not to overexert yourself too much…after all, you’re on vacation!

Most yoga classes in Paris are Vinyasa or Ashtanga-style, with lots of variations. Of course, classes are in French (although some schools do have English-language classes), but more teachers speak some English and if you regularly practice yoga, you should be able to follow along.

Here’s a list of a several studios that are centrally located, with some notes about their classes and styles. Most studios require regular students to pay a cotisation annuelle, an annual fee, although they waive it for short-term visitors. Please note that class prices are the current rates, and you should check the individual studios web sites for updates. If you like to have water handy, it’s best to bring a small bottle along with you.

Most yoga studios in Paris don’t offer showers or towels. Expect to pay more than you would for an individual class in the US, although most places offers series of multiple classes, which is worthwhile if you plan to be in town for a while. Mats are available, but changing rooms in most of the places are non-existent, so be prepare to ‘see-and-be-seen’ (and believe me, I’ve seen everything)—so don’t be shy!

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What Do You Do With A Drunken (French) Sailor?

There’s a style of writing, called “The Confessional”, where the writer talks about their personal life, often in great detail. Sometimes the stories may include spouses or partners. Other times, there might be scenes of intimate family gatherings. Or in extreme instances, they could involve, say, drunken French sailors. And on a less-titillating note, cats for some reason frequently show up as well.

I don’t write like that for several reasons: a) Because I don’t have a cat, b) Because my apartment is too small for anything very exciting to happen, and c) I’m a good boy.

(That is, unless you count that weekend when I first moved here and a friend shared the secret for having beaucoup de relations internationaux.)

Oh-la-la! C’est magnifiq…

Oops. Sorry. I digress…

So I’m ready to admit who I’m sharing my apartment with right now. I thought the time was right to let you all in on it, since it’s gotten to the point where I can no longer contain myself.

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I’ve had this big, hairy hunk lying around my apartment for the past few weeks, and let me tell you, this is the best piece of meat I’ve ever had around here.

Jamón Ibérico is the most delicious ham in the world, cured from black-footed pigs which forage around the forests in Spain, snorting up wild acorns, which gives the meat has a distinctly nutty, earthy, yet robust flavor. The ham needs to be hand sliced, and ultra-thin, s’il vous plait, which is rather difficult since the meat is moist and for some reason (which I don’t remember from high-school biology) the pig leg has a bunch of wavy bones and joints that curve in more directions than a French driver does navigating around the Arc de Triomphe.

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Patrick Roger Chocolate: All I Want For Christmas

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That’s the new one meter box of chocolates from Patrick Roger, over three feet of pralines, caramels, nougats, and creamy-smooth ganache-filled bonbons, all enrobed in ultra-dark bittersweet chocolate.

I don’t know how someone would brave getting one of those home on the métro, but I’d surely appreciate their efforts if I found one under my tree!

Patrick Roger
108, Boulevard St. Germain (6th)
Tel: 01 43 29 38 42

Boulangerie 140

At last count, there are 1263 bakeries in Paris.

On just about every street, there’s at least one, if not two, or even three bakeries. Some of them are very good, a few are perhaps not so fabulous, and several are excellent. Parisians eat a lot of bread, far more than their American counterparts.

Visitors often wonder, “How come we don’t have bakeries like this is America?”

“Because people won’t eat bread in America anymore. Everyone’s afraid of it.” I respond

Tragically, most nod in agreement.

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Luckily there’s not too much of that nonsense here in Paris. From early in the morning, until the last baguette de levain is handed across the counter for dinner, you’ll find folks en queue, lined up impatiently waiting to get their daily bread.

And for some reason, I’m always in front of the most impatient one, who firmly keeps nudging me forward. My strategy against those Parisian pests is to gently innocently start backing up, which kinda freaks them out and invariably causes a chain reaction, since the person behind them is usually pressed up against them as well, nudging them forward too.

It causes a certain amount of shuffling and mild hysteria, but tant pis.
Anyone who wants to get that close to me better buy me a drink first.

Or at least a loaf of bread.

But when there’s a bakery as good as 140 in town, Parisians have good reason to get pushy about their bread. And neighborhood residents buy stop here once, or even twice daily to get theirs. And like many of them, I’m happy to stand my ground for a crisp, golden baguette de campagne that feels crisp and warm when it’s handed over the counter to me. Or for the buttery-mouthful of a flaky croissant that shatters into a gazillion crackly shards when you bite into it.

These are some of the daily rituals that go on around here, of which I’m frequently guilty of taking part.

(The pushing part I’m still getting used to.)

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Although I don’t live close enough to 140 to go two or three times a day, it’s one of the handful of bakeries here that I’ll happily scamper across the city to visit. Aside from their numeric name, which always gives me a chuckle, they bake some of the best breads in Paris. And recently, I was lucky enough to go behind the scenes of this top-notch boulangerie.

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Paris Blogs

Last night, celebrating my good health, I took advantage of an invitation I received to meet the Paris Bloggers.

Unlike the Paris Food Bloggers, my friends who are a fine, upstanding bunch of citizens, the Paris Bloggers are a wanton, hedonistic tribe who didn’t have a clue who I was. So they tried to ply me with Cosmopolitans anyways in hopes of getting a picture of the newbie in some sort of Cosmopolitany altered state.
Since they don’t know me all that well, they thought they could tempt me with vodka and raw vegetables with dip. But they were wrong.

At least I hope so. I don’t recall much near the end of the party…

And here’s the bloggers who attended. Don’t let any degenerate pictures on their sites fool you; many of their blogs have great inside tips on Paris, and make good reading.

Hillary Keegin & Aaron Ross of 13

Eric of Paris Daily Photo

Seth from The Paris Times

Pascal Fonquernie of ParisMarais.com

Polly of Polly Vous Français

Amy Alkon of Advice Goddess

Susie & Cesar of Ivy Paris

Richard of Eye Prefer Paris

Elliott Hester, guest blogger of Postcards from Paris/LA Times
(who they should keep, please!)

Heidi of The Paris Update

Catherine, the Petite Anglaise

Jennifer of No Place Like it

Le Meg of Leblageur

Laurie of The Paris Blog

Paris Restaurant Round-Up

I got a very cute message lately from a couple who had come to Paris and followed some of my restaurant suggestions. But it got to the point one evening here they were undecided where to go one night, and her husband said, “I don’t care. Let’s just go anywhere that chocolate-guy says to go!”

I was glad to be of service, but I like being known as ‘that chocolate-guy’ just as much.

But frankly, I don’t go out as much as most folks imagine. I love going to my market, talking to the vendors, and coming home with something new that I’ve never tried before, like the chervil roots I bought the other day, which involved a rather detailed, lengthy conversation with the vendor.

I mostly cooking all the fine things I find here and learn about. So when I do go out, I want it to be good…no, I want it to be great…and I find the best food in Paris is classic French cuisine; confit de canard, steak frites, and coq au vin. When you find a good version, I don’t think there’s anything more satisfying. Especially if it’s accompanied by good friends.

And, of course, a few obligatory glasses of vin rouge.

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So here’s a round-up of places I’ve eaten lately.
There’s a few you might to want to bookmark for your next visit, as well as one or two you might want to avoid.

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Lentilles du Puy: French Green Lentil Salad Recipe

What f I told you that there was a caviar you can buy for around 3 bucks per pound?

You might say, “David, you’re crazy!”

Well call me fou…(which wouldn’t be the first time) but lentilles du Puy, the French green lentils from the Auvergne, are not called ‘the caviar of lentils’ for nothing.

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I’m sure many of your out there might lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, thinking, “Gee, I wonder if David’s right and there really is a different between ordinary green French lentils and lentilles du Puy?”

Continue Reading Lentilles du Puy: French Green Lentil Salad Recipe…

French & Italian Menu Translation Made Easy

After spending years learning the language, I’m pretty comfortable with menus in French and I’m rarely in for any unpleasant surprises when waiters bring me food anymore. But on my trip to Italy, I was completely baffled when handed an Italian menu, scarcely knowing stinco from souris d’agneau. Stinco I Iearned the hard way: a Fred Flintstone-sized hunk of roasted veal knuckle was plunked down in front of me, after a hearty pasta course, and there was no chance of leaving until I finished it off. All of it. And you might want to be careful ordering souris d’agneau in France, since a ‘souris’ is a mouse, which doesn’t sound as appetizing as lamb shank, which is actually what you’d be ordering.

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So I carried along Andy Herbach and Michael Dillon’s Eating and Drinking in Italy on my trip. Although I need little help deciding what to drink, many times I was stumped when presented with a menu. Luckily I had slipped this slender guide into my pocket, which is one of the most appealing features of these guides, so one could discretely refer to them without looking like a total rube.

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These guides are inexpensive too, and the Paris menu translator has everything from pibales (small eels…ew) to pithiviers (puff pastry filled with ground almonds and cream…yum).

It’s rather difficult to find a good, comprehensive, and compact menu translator, so most people resort to tearing pages out of their guidebooks, which are rather broad-based don’t get into the nitty-gritty of the difference between congre (big eel) and colin (hake). Then they end up facing a heaping platter of something they’d prefer not to encounter either on sea or shore. Another bonus is both books also have loads of information about European dining customs, like never filling a wine glass more than halfway full in Paris, as well as restaurant suggestions and the Italian guide has brief descriptions of the regions of Italy, and what to order when you’re there.

Both are highly recommended, so much so that I plan to take their Berlin Made Easy guide with me on my trip this winter, so I end up with gegrillt jakobsmuscheln instead of gekockten aal.

Eating & Drinking in Paris (Menu Translation Guide)

Eatingi & Drinking in Italy (Menu Translation Guide)