Paris, Paris, Paris!

Having lived in London for a while I have developed some stereotypes and prejudices which is never good, but saves a lot of time – I never trust BBC weather forecast, I don’t read Dan Brown and I don’t believe in sky without at least one tiny cloud.

However, this type of sky exists! I got a proof in Paris last week. It was just surreal – bottomless blue void and nothing to hold on to, the merciless sunshine that I thought was only possible in Jerusalem, burning the ancient remains and balding heads of the local sages.
But, my, oh my, how freezing it was! Bitter wind blew from the river, making us seek shelter in many cafes and brasseries, where we were served cafe au lait or later Americanos for me and cappuccinos for Ash, because we got corrupted by Starbuck’s cup sizes and coffee brought in egg cups wasn’t quite enough. Majority of people though stayed outside, on lined along the cafes tables and wicker chairs, sipping their espressos, smoking and lazing on the sun.

We also discovered chocolate viennoise, which is just a hot chocolate with cream. And chocolate africain from Angelina. The place looked so snob from outside that we had some doubts before entering it, but I am happy we did. It was very welcoming and stuff greeted us like their cousins returning from travels down basin of Amazonia. The cafe itself certainly looks grand with golden carvings, huge mirrors and chandelliers – it feels like Louis XVI’S palace. The sweets display is a stuff of a dream – giant jars full of macaroons of every colour imaginable – pistachio, orange, pink, black, little wonders of culinary, so sophisticated and artful that it seems a crime to eat them.
The chocolate africain was brought to us in a little milk jar with whipped cream separately, so thick and syrupy, and full of flavour, I am sure they milked the most gracious and serene cows to produce this quality cream and cracked the cocoa beans worth their weight in gold to make chocolate so delicious.

We also ordered Montblanc – desert which recipe is kept secret for over hundred years – it tasted divine but totally unusual. Only after buying a marron spread (chestnut) and trying it at home, it downed on me, that this Monblanc is simply the chectnut flavoured pastry filled with whipped cream rested on most delicate, most fragile meringue. Oops, I told you the secret!
I don’t know why we needed desert at all as the calories we consumed with hot chocolate would be enough to sustain us on our attempt to swim across the Channel. To be honest, this stuff has to be taken in moderation – it is like caviar or my beloved fois gras – after few spoonfuls it just becomes too much and you understand that this things designed to be savoured slowly and in homeopathical dozes.

Coffee was very good everywhere we went – even at the hotel where I suspect they brew the filter. Paris certainly lived up to the expectations, but also shocked with its astronomical prices. Get saving, fellas! Having said that, the best things in Paris are stil free – the smell of fresh oysters on a bed of ice displayed on a street market, insanely tasty baguettes, the regularity of Jardin de Luxemburg, the sight of the city sprawled below from the Sacre Couer’s Dome, the iron-wrought balconies and views of Eiffel Tower at dawn.