Gerard Mulot

A Gerard Mulot patisserie, which is considered the best in Paris, happens to be very conveniently around the corner from my flat. Please do yourself a favor and feast your eyes on their website. Just looking through the window, your heart skips a beat in about the same way as when you see the love of your life. 

The window displays almost brought me to tears. This is the good stuff, ladies and gentlemen. This is artistry. This is sugar manipulation at its best - a perfected art form that I appreciate at an almost spiritual level. I mean, just look at this stuff:

What did I choose, you ask? Well, it was almost impossible to do so. I'm glad I live around the corner because it may just take me eight months to try everything in the store. Today, I took A-L's advice and ordered the crunchy orange tart, which had the right kind of tang and the right kind of sweet. I also chose the dark chocolate tart, an opera, and a millefeuille, a classic that never gets old. The best part about these little bits of pastry goodness were sharing them with friends. We visited a friend of mine who I haven't seen in about ten years. She now has a toddler son as well, and he and my son hit it off immediately - they'll be best friends living large in St Germain - eating pastries and frolicking in the Jardin du Luxembourg fields - what a tough life.

Best hot chocolate in the world and the ugliest shoes in the world. Period.

Les Deux Magots is one of my favorite places on earth. It is one of the hang-outs of Hemingway, Sartre, and Picasso, among others, and one of the birthplaces of existentialism (according to the Lonely Planet France guidebook). (Yes, I read Lonely Planet guides...) Anyway, back to the hot chocolate. My husband and I tasted it last time we were in Paris, and swore to always return to this magical place. The hot chocolate is easily the most delectable, velvety cup of dark chocolaty richness I've ever had the privilege to enjoy. It was even better this time around, and in my toddler's words was: "yum yum!"

I accompanied it with a croissant, and I was in chocolate heaven. 

Now, to offer some contrast with this mouth-watering deliciousness, I'd like to share a less appetizing situation. If you are even the least little bit aware of shoe aesthetics, then you'll understand my predicament. These are the shoes I have to wear to culinary school:

I had to go to the end of the world (well, the end of the metro map of Paris) to buy them at a chef's speciality store (which was actually pretty cool), and I almost gagged when the sales person told me these were the ones Cordon Bleu students wore. "The women tend to choose the white ones rather than the black," she said. "That's a little better, I guess," I said. They're steel-tipped, oil resistant, and can withstand the side effects of the atomic bomb (well, maybe not that) "security shoes" and they're hideous. They are comfortable and strong, though, which is what will be important when I'm standing up for ten hours a day and a sharp knife comes flying down to my toes. Pity party over here.

Bonjour, Paris!

How do you write a smile?

Well, one seemed to have permanently fixed itself upon my face ever since I arrived on Sunday.

Please join me with three cheers for my son, who behaved brilliantly on the 24-hour trip from Port of Spain to Paris - hip, hip, hooray...! And another chant for my husband, without whom there would not be a smile this large on my face - "for he's a jolly good fellow...." ok, you get the idea. Besides the jet-lag and inevitable exhaustion, the trip was good.

I've been to Paris a few times, so my observations are not really about the city itself. Rather, the observations I'd like to share today are about how I feel as a new resident of Paris. I am deliriously happy to be able to finally take time to see the city, without feeling rushed or thinking that I have to move on to the next monument because my days here are numbered. Today, for example, the three of us took the metro to Pompidou only to find that it's closed on Tuesdays. Instead of being annoyed, we walked and walked and walked without looking at a map or making any plans for the rest of the evening. We stumbled upon three playgrounds, so my son was thrilled. We saw street performers and beautiful window displays of pastry shops, clothes boutiques, and art galleries. 

always tip a street musician

As an anthropologist, I am fascinated by the people. Paris, like most of Europe these days, is a melting pot of people from around the world. I hope that my experience with the culinary culture of this city exposes me to what this collage of traditions has to offer. 

You may be wondering what our first meal was? If you guessed moules frites, you're right. Actually, I ordered steak frites and my husband had the moules. The baby had a moule and I think he liked it, but his favorite was the broth that the moules came in. And oh yes, the bread. None of us can get enough of that crunchy, heavenly baguette brought down to earth by the bread gods.

moules frites

steak frites with belgian mayo

I'll leave you with my last thought of the day...I better keep taking these long walks, or else I'll be rolling out of France in eight months because of the extra thirty pounds I'll be carrying (AH!)

Au Revoir Trinidad

And so a major milestone in my journey begins...at the airport waiting for my flight to Paris. Please keep your fingers crossed so that my toddler son sleeps and that this trip goes well!

I leave behind Carnival festivities (which are on full blast as I leave the island). I also leave behind good friends, but they will be following me through this blog every step of the way.

My next entry will be from the other side of the pond. I can smell the pain au chocolat that is waiting for me at the corner bakery. I am coming, wait for me!

House of Jaipur: A bit of India in Trinidad

A dear friend took me out for a goodbye lunch at one of my favorite places: House of Jaipur. Located in an unassuming street in Woodbrook (a residential/commercial area in Port of Spain), this tea house is an oasis from the bustling, trafficky, concrete hood in which it lives. 

As soon as you enter, you're transformed to India. The proprietor has impeccable taste and everything from the furniture to the cushion covers and picture frames are for sale. You can come here for a spot of tea and a sweets platter and also stay for lunch - a colorful, aromatic, delectable lunch.

We had samosas and dosas, accompanied by a lovely masala chai. 

The burnt reds and oranges and the glittery lamps shades and table cloths were beautiful. But the most fabulous part of the lunch was spending time with my friend. I'll miss her and this lovely Indian oasis in the Caribbean.

KFC

What does KFC have anything to do with this blog? With Trinidad? With Carnival? Well, I thought it impressive that I've heard from more than one person that the best selling KFC in the world is located in - you guessed it - Trinidad. More specifically, the KFC in Independence Square sells gazillions of dollars worth of thighs and wings per day. This comes as no surprise to me because I am witness to how much Trinidadians LOVE KFC. They love fried chicken in general, but they love their KFC in particular. Therefore, I thought it earned a place in this blog - along with doubles, breadfruit, callaloo, and all that other good stuff I've talked about.


KFC is a big deal here, and Trinidad has made it all its own - with a Carnival add and everything. This jinggle, which is more like a proper soca song, can be heard at every moment and on every radio station in the nation:

Gorgeous Carnival ladies, blue devils, and everyone in between love their KFC. Yeah, right, I'm sure those girls eat KFC on a regular basis...Anyway, the colonel would have been proud.


Of course I got myself some of the colonel's goodness to have a try. By the way, I'm convinced that all KFCs taste differently...Beijing KFCs, for example, have a different taste than US KFCs. My Trini chicken was delish. I must confess that about every other year or so I get a craving for that greasy goodness. Even though once I have it I can't look at it for another year, I enjoy every bite while it lasts.

Definitely still finger lickin' good...but this time, Trini style.

Carnival

Carnival is Trinidad and Tobago's main annual cultural event.  It takes months to prepare, and for weeks before the big event, most Trinidadians live and breath everything carnival. Wikipedia will tell you all about it's history, the events surrounding it, etc. I will tell you about how it feels in Trinidad during Carnival time.


One could probably create a blog purely on the topic of Trinidadian music. It is this nation's heart and soul, and it seems to me that all Trinis live by the rhythm of their songs. Whether it's soca, chutney soca, calypso (born in T&T, by the way), steel pan (born in T&T by the way), church music, rapso, extempo, brass bands, parang, reggae, or rock, you can always hear some kind of music at any given time, wherever you are. 


Trinis are very proud of their steel pan invention. Pan yards (or competitions between steel pan groups) have marked important events in the history of this country, and the instrument appears to be the national symbol of T&T. Pan yards have an important role to play during Carnival time, and the melodic sounds mark these days of celebrations.


Soca, a more up-beat type of music that to be honest can either excite you to the point of dancing for two days straight (which is what "playing" Carnival is all about), or it can drive you crazy. Take a look for yourself. This video shows people "playing mas", when they participate in individual performances of bands. 

I took a long walk along Queen's Park Savannah yesterday to see Carnival preparations. Signs depicting gorgeous women with gorgeous bodies in gorgeous Carnival outfits decorated the Savannah. Wooden houses were built for the event. Painted in lively colors, they house food and drink stalls, crafts, and souvenirs. 

Carnival signs are all over town, and it's almost impossible to escape the excitement and anticipation.

Even though Carnival is the backbone of Trinidad & Tobago's cultural traditions, some Trinidadians want nothing to do with it. Some think it's vulgar (I'm sure you noticed the "wining" in the youtube video above, when two people dance a dance that's a little R rated), loud, and disruptive. For example, during the weeks before Carnival, many people and businesses use it as an excuse for why something hasn't been done. This can be a little irritating. It can also be frustrating when there are fetes (Carnival parties) surrounding your home, and you can't get a decent night's sleep for days at a time because the Soca beat is pounding until 2am. 


Despite it's potential controversy, Carnival in Trinidad is a source of pride and contagious national happiness. Foreigners come in plane-loads to take part, and for a few days every year, inhibitions disappear, judgement ends, and most Trinis from all walks of life - rich, poor, black, Indian, white, Asian, young, old, skinny, chubby, participate in a massive party. It's impressive and it's Trinidad.