Cover Story: Paris Versus New York

Courtesy of Charles Berberian for The New Yorker.

The New Yorker's cover story for the May 5th, 2014 issue raised what I found to be a fascinating question : to what extent are the cultures of Paris and New York (and perhaps the cultures of France and the United States as well) fusing, melding, and even standardizing?

Illustrator Charles Berberian, making the point that these cities are in fact merging their trends, lifestyles and energies, deliberately imparts a feeling of uncertainty in his drawings and causes the viewer to wonder which city is really depicted. Take this cover illustration - are we looking at a Williamsburg coffee shop designed in the style of a French café, or is this couple actually reading Le Monde on their iPads overlooking a parisian boulevard?

Thinking back to the taco truck I've seen on Boulevard Raspail and the macaron craze that has swept New York City, it's easy to see Berberian's point. It remains to consider, however, whether this is the start of thriving cultural symbiosis, or rather a dulling and degrading homogenization.

You can find some background on The New Yorker's cover story as well as a slideshow of Berberian's cartoons here. Below is my favorite from the slideshow, as it really illustrates the bleakness of any metropolitan city under the rain. Though despite the uniformity brought by bad weather, the shadows of both New York's water towers and Paris' Haussmannian facades appear distinctly.

Courtesy of Charles Berberian.

No Love Locks campaign wants to ban bridge locks

Did you know that the bridges in Paris are heaving under the weight of locks left on their fences by passing lovers? Neither did I. I also didn't realize that what I thought of as nothing more than a sweet and innocent symbol of young love, sadly rendered quite ironic by the fact that these promises of forever are routinely chopped and discarded, would represent to others (note: they're American) a pressing threat to the city's integrity.

Only a few years ago, I was one of those couples who put a silly lock on the Pont des Arts. In typical teenage-couple-stumbles-through-Paris fashion, my then boyfriend and I had bought an overpriced lock at a neighboring hardware store, forgot to bring a carving utensil and ended up sitting at a nearby café, scraping enough ink out of a pen to mark our initials. To be honest, the emotions most salient to me now are those of hunger, fatigue and cold. But on that winter day a few years ago, we checked something off our silly bucket list and left a temporary mark the Parisian scenery.

I hope couples will have this opportunity for decades to come and that the No Love Locks campaign won't succeed in banning this tradition, thereby making illegal one of the last innocent gestures of young love that I can think of. These locks obviously should not be protected at the expense of Paris' infrastructure, and it would break my heart to see bridges crumble after hundreds of years of history. But why can't the locks be cut more often so that fewer hang on bridges at any given time, for example? It won't really matter to the couples if their lock is gone a few days later, and to be honest it's impossible to find yours in the sea of locks if you only just briefly look away. What matters is that at some point in their lives a couple was together in Paris, and put a lock on a bridge. And I never want to see those memories banned.

For the full article on the No Love Locks campaign, visit The Guardian website.

J'ai un cadeau à faire de chez Zadig & Voltaire

A few summers ago, in France, a song hit the charts hard. I mostly ignored the lyrics the first few times I heard it, but upon paying closer attention I discovered a humorous song aiming a pointedly mocking finger at the young, trendy, elitist Parisian crowd. Basically, the song was Helmut Fritz' (turns out his name was also a joke) list of all the things these kids do that upset him, called "Ca m'énerve."
 
Besides being pissed off by rosé champagne and denied access to clubs, the singer also hates shopping at the incredibly hip Zadig & Voltaire (see post title) because their items always seem to be on permanent backorder.

When I saw their new S/S14 collection, the first thing I thought (ok, second after singing what I remember of the song) was that this backorder reputation is here to stay.

 

Photos via Because I'm Addicted.

The importance of manners

A little guide kindly offered by my grandparents.

The importance of manners and etiquette came up in a recent conversation with my friend Emily. We realized that they certainly matter to both our families and as a direct consequence they now matter to us, whether our past five-year-old selves like it or not. But recently I've noticed that a lot of other people have also been discussing manners, in this Serious Eats column or on the America's Test Kitchen podcast I listen to for example. It makes me wonder whether this is part of a general slow-movement trend, where doing things properly and thoroughly and consciously is given precedent over rushing through things in a haphazard and informal way.

But back to my conversation with Emily, I told her that I thought I was taught manners to make me a more pleasant person. My mother, in the three-page list of rules she once drafted for me after a particularly vicious fit, explained that saying bonjour monsieur or merci madame was just the nice thing to do and made my company enjoyable. In fact, no one wants to be in the company of a stupid brat like the one I had been a few hours before.

This emphasis on manners for the sake of social cohesion and positive interactions was also brought up in the ATK podcast I mentioned earlier. First, the guest speaker differentiated manners from etiquette. The first relates to underlying principles guiding social interactions, whereas the latter refers to cosmetic details like when to use a fish knife or even how long to mourn somebody's passing. But then the speakers got into precisely why it is that manners are defended, and the resounding explanation was that they are a way of keeping our primal urges at bay. Without proper education there would be little stopping us from sticking our fork into the centerpiece leg of lamb, plowing into a crowded subway car, constantly interrupting conversation or doing whatever else we might impulsively want to do, all of which would make for rather barbaric experiences.

Maybe that's your preference, and I'm sure you won't be alone. But for the sake of social cohesion it is undeniable that we should all behave with the least bit of civility. If only for that, manners are worth remembering, discussing and adapting to current circumstances. Looking at you, chatty lady on your cellphone...

Cowgirl Creamery's Red Hawk cheese

Cowgirl Creamery's Red Hawk

I was reading Serious Eats' post "A Brief Guide to Great Stinky Cheeses" when I thought to myself that stinky cheeses have really come a long way in this country. Sure, certain cheeses like mimolette are still being treated with severe skepticism, but I simply can't ignore that pungent taleggio now defends a role as legitimate pizza topping and that cheese plates capable of making their presence known from across the room are featured on nearly every trendy menu.

My love affair with strong cheese, as with anyone of French blood, started in the womb. Surely you didn't think my mother would stop eating cheese just because of a little pregnancy situation... As a child, a big block of parmesan set out on a plate with a hand grater was a staple of every home-cooked pasta dinner. In my teenage years, a summer job at a snack shop in Normandie was fueled largely by Pont l'Evêque on baguette. In college, what I most anticipated when spending a weekend home was Friday night's dinner, if only because the final touch was always Roquefort and red wine. And I still remember the first time my dad treated me to a fancy tasting menu, and how when it came to ordering dessert we both made a point of requesting the cheese course and stating, with a wink in each other's direction, "the stronger the better."

Admittedly, I have taken my love of cheese a little far sometimes. Like that time I showed my college friends around my hometown of San Francisco and decided to stop by the Cowgirl Creamery shop in the Ferry Building and splurge on their Red Hawk cheese, a washed rind cheese that rivals even the most "floral" of French cheeses. All the while forgetting that we still had an afternoon of sightseeing planned. And would not be back to my parent's home to lock the cheese away in the fridge until the next day because we were spending the night in Berkeley. Which ultimately led to a very smelly car and a few bitter remarks. But that Sunday lunch my mom made, topped off with that Red Hawk cheese? To me that was justification enough.

I never liked those little tree car freshener things anyway.

Robert Doisneau photographs Palm Springs

In my mind, Palm Springs will always be a getaway for lucky Angelenos, an oasis of luxury in a barren landscape, a spot of color in the desert. A place where the air is dry, the pools are plenty and the sun sets pink. A town so close to where I went to college that I could hop over after Friday class to set up camp at Coachella, but far enough away in what it represents that I would never feel like I was on the inside.

This same feeling, of looking in as a mere outsider, is echoed in Robert Doisneau's series on Palm Springs shot back in 1960. You may know Doisneau from his photographs "Le remorqueur du Champs de Mars, Paris" or "Le baiser de l'Hôtel de Ville." But he also shot in foreign countries, bringing in this series upon the wealthy American West the gaze of a less than affluent photojournalist.

The open road, American muscle cars, the desert : a new world for a Parisian photographer.

Photo courtesy of Atelier Robert Doisneau.

 The extravagance of Palm Springs. The title of this photo translates as "Fur Party."

Photo courtesy of Atelier Robert Doisneau.

 

Photo courtesy of Atelier Robert Doisneau.

 My favorite photo : the title reads "The painter's curlers."

Photo courtesy of Atelier Robert Doisneau.

And yet, the loneliness of consumerism sinks in.

Photo courtesy of Atelier Robert Doisneau.

For the full slideshow, visit the Atelier Robert Doisneau website.


Thanks, Claire :)

"Paris, Line by Line" by Robinson

Photo courtesy of Design*Sponge

Design*Sponge recently introduced me to the work of Robinson, a German illustrator first known for the success of the travel book New York, Line by Line, which he then followed with a sequel, Paris, Line by Line. Robinson uses line drawing, a style where monochromatic lines are drawn upon a plain background, foregoing principles of shading and color. The result may seem stark and basic, but I find that it actually lends itself to the intricacies of Parisian architecture with its vast boulevards, Haussmannian buildings and Belle Epoque details.

Photo courtesy of Design*Sponge

Photo courtesy of Design*Sponge

Full Design*Sponge post this way.

Catherine Deneuve in New York Magazine

Photograph by Dominique Issermann for NYMag

NYMag ran a short but sexy portrait of the eternally graceful Catherine Deneuve in their most recent issue. She is now 70 -- and still acting and posing in lingerie for glossies.

Catherine Deneuve is such an iconic actress, easily recognized from her many roles and over fifty years of acting. What was the first movie you remember seeing her in? I remember watching Peau d'âne as a child, where she was cast as a princess who concealed herself under a donkey pelt. Though plot details have blurred over time, suffice it to say that even then I knew that no amount of smudged dirt or dead animal could make her look bad, and it was only a matter of time before she slipped back into her dress couleur des étoiles.

Catherine Deneuve in Peau d'âne

For the full portrait, visit NYMag's website.

French vs. American food

Social news websites HuffPost Taste and BuzzFeed Food have taken it upon themselves to flaunt some of the best food that American and French cuisines have to offer, in turn sparking a little healthy rivalry (...scratch that, apparently the most delicious national dishes are also the most cardiac arrest-inducing).

To sum up the duel, here are some of each country's most prized culinary offerings:

United States (HuffPost Taste) : Thanksgiving, fried foods, bacon, barbecue, 24-hour diners and the bottomless coffee mug.

Photo from LA Weekly.

France (BuzzFeed Food) : moules marinières, soufflés, cassoulet, foie gras, fondue savoyarde, onion soup.

Photo from France-Voyage.

I refuse to play referee. There is a time and place for all the dishes and food-related events named above, and I've tucked into my fair share of them. The common thread that I see bringing both lists together is the comfort and nostalgic indulgence afforded by these foods. Does it really matter whether you're eating greasy diner hash browns or the cheesy mashed potato dish known as aligot if either can lift your spirits, if only for the moment you're savoring it? I think it's precisely the pleasant memories associated with foods that make them so special and worth bragging about.

Full lists here and here.

The New Potato Guide to Paris

The New Potato is one of the websites I look forward to reading every single day. Luckily co-creators and sisters Danielle and Laura Kosann never leave me hanging, and update their website with sweet interviews every single day (some of my favorites so far are Leandra Medine, Nanette Lepore and Ariel Foxman).

Nanette Lepore in her kitchen. Copyright The New Potato.

Another feature on their website is the 'City Guides' section, which includes Manhattan, Brooklyn, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and now Paris. Despite being familiar with all these cities (not trying to be a jerk, I promise), I will never turn down an insider's tip on where to eat and drink. Something to keep in mind, however, is that these guides are based on the interviewees' favorite spots, and because The New Potato's guests are mostly fabulous celebrities hailing from the hospitality, fashion, music and entertainment industries, the selection is skewed accordingly. So if you do decide to try one of these establishments, you most likely won't be fighting a two-job working mom or starry-eyed college student for a reservation. But then again, don't you want to know where Simon Doonan hangs out in New York anyway?

Simon Doonan. Copyright The New Potato.

Back to Paris : the City Guide is arranged by neighborhoods, but also alphabetically and laid out on a map. It features timeless bistros like Café de Flore and Le Cigale Récamier, elegant restaurants like Le Grand Véfour as well as some more modern ones like Spring and Frenchie. A Falafel spot in the trendy Marais neighborhood, L'As du Fallafel, even made the list, as did the classic Poilâne Bakery, known for its dark sourdough bread (I loved their shortbread cookies back in the day!)

Copyright TimeOut.

Scroll through the guide here for some inspiration for your next Parisian vacation (ha, we can dream).

A post about Paris on Roost

These photos (all taken by Caitlin Van Horn of Roost). No words.

Photo courtesy of Caitlin Van Horn.

Photo courtesy of Caitlin Van Horn.

Photo courtesy of Caitlin Van Horn.

See more photos, along with her lyrical description of wandering through Paris, on her beautiful blog.

Etienne Lavie: "OMG, Who Stole My Ads?"

I recently stumbled across this intriguing project by French street artist Etienne Lavie.

Photo courtesy of EtienneLavie.fr

He replaces the advertisements on billboards across Paris with famous classical paintings.

Photo courtesy of EtienneLavie.fr

.
Personally, I interpret his work as a commentary on art as a commodity verses art as a visual pleasure...

Photo courtesy of EtienneLavie.fr

... But I also think he calls to attention a habit we all share, of drowning out our surroundings as we rush through the streets, headphones in and eyes tied to the ground.

Photo courtesy of EtienneLavie.fr

You can further explore Lavie's project by visiting his website.

"In France, a Battle to Keep Menus Fresh" by Liz Alderman in the New York Times

A few weeks back, the New York Times published an article about the growing incidence of restaurants around France using industrialized frozen foods and serving them to diners as house-made dishes. Keep in mind that the author, Liz Alderman, is not just referring to frozen shrimp but entire meals. One server she interviewed denounced a restaurant for serving pre-made lasagna and blanquette de veau, a French staple, to their unknowing patrons. For anyone who has worked in a restaurant, the fact that kitchens sometimes resort to frozen ingredients for reasons of cost, availability or even convenience, is surely not groundbreaking. So why is this news in Paris? The problem that Alderman raises is that although using industrially produced ingredients is tolerated in establishments worldwide in order to serve crowds of diners on often constricted budgets, France is held - and also holds itself - to a different standard due to its culinary heritage and reputation.

Mimi Thorisson's cassoulet, a quintessentially French dish, from her blog Manger.

French gastronomy drives travelers from around the world. In 2010, the UNESCO even admitted the French Gastronomic Meal to their list of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. And in reality, the French actually love their food the most and derive immense pride from their cuisine. This is exactly why it comes as such a cause for concern that restaurants could be skimping on such an integral part of their culture. After all, if that croque-monsieur you are eating at a restaurant was purchased from an industrial food distributor, how do you know it was even made in France using French ingredients? And furthermore, what distinguishes it from any other frozen croque-monsieurs you could have bought and reheated yourself?

I love the culture of French cuisine, with its deference to ingredients, respect for tradition and social nature. And when I go to a restaurant, I like to think that care was taken in preparing my meal, especially given that I mostly cook for myself and would be even more inclined to do so if I knew I was being served a TV dinner. And yet, is there not a point of defense (as mentioned in Alderman's article) in the fact that France, like the rest of the planet, is undergoing various social changes like rising food and labor costs? And that a modern work ethic drives people to grab a quick bite at the expense of sitting down to an enjoyable lunch? Not to mention that some people don't walk into a restaurant just for the food, but also to relish in the human interaction granted by a restaurant's waitstaff. We are all acquainted with a character like Melvin Udall in As Good as It Gets who insists on going to the same cafe every day to chat with the pretty server, despite the mediocre eggs and coffee.

As Good as It Gets

At the end of the day, restaurants are businesses that must remain economically competitive. The hospitality greats like La Tour d'Argent are clearly not the institutions exploring industrial options. They have entirely different budgets and revenue and margins. Rather it is the little bistro fighting for a steady lunch crowd and tourist traffic that is pressured to go frozen, and I would argue that most lunch diners and tourists are drawn by reasonable dining rather than haute gastronomy anyway. It does pain me to think of those travelers, anticipating to have some of the best meals of their lives in France, walking into a corner café and being disappointed by what they did not realize was a mass-produced frozen dish. It seems to me that the best solution is for restaurants to adopt a policy of transparency, either by emphasizing their reasonable menu options at the cost of certain shortcuts or by drawing special attention to the dishes made in-house and that command a higher sticker price (some restaurants have already started labeling specific menu items as "fait maison," says Alderman). Since restaurants must strive to please their diners, and some diners seek an integral culinary experience whereas others opt for convenience, surely room can be made for both institutions of French cuisine and little cafés that hold no greater pretention than to serve simple food to hungry customers.

To read the full article, "In France, a Battle to Keep Menus Fresh" by Liz Alderman, visit the New York Times website.

One Year Anniversary in New York

One of the very first pictures I took in New York.

One year ago, February 12, 2013, I moved to New York City.

I didn't have a place to live or a job lined up. If you had told me only a year earlier that I would one day be on my way to New York, I would not have believed you. Just like I imagine that my life a year from today will be very different from what it is right now.

Not a bad move.

Chloé S/S 14

Chloé's S/S 14 campaign could not be more timely... Every single soul in New York is itching for some summer sun.

Julia Stegner and Lou Doillon lead the way.

Sun Valley ski trip

 Last weekend I flew out to Idaho for a little ski trip with friends and family.

My dad and I left Boise before dawn...

... And watched the colors change in the sky...

... Until the sun came up.

We skied Baldie (thankfully, given how much we had been eating)!

And drove home to Boise through foggy, frosted plains.

Fun fact: It was actually colder in New York than in our winter wonderland!

The Market at Boulevard Raspail, Paris

Smell is first to awaken, as you inhale roast chicken and melted cheese from about a block down. Next, you hear a merchant shout something about his apricots, a crate thump heavily on the ground under the weight of its sun-ripened treasures, and the double doors of a farmer's truck slam shut. All of which sporadically burst over the steady hum of shoppers, requesting a kilo of potatoes or inquiring about the stuffed quail. Did you just catch a sniff of toasted bread there, to tease you yet again? You are growing closer to the market. You turn the corner and cross the street, hardly caring that you've just pulled a reckless Marla Singer move. The driver can wait, but you can't.

You've just spotted your first glimpse of color, the blue tarps shading the market's precious offerings. Vibrant shades of green, red and orange jumping out from lettuces, tomatoes and peaches begging to be taken home and savored. More subtle aromas are now revealed, drifting from sweet melons and wild fraises des bois. You hardly know where to turn so instead you just gawk at a ripe, pungent chèvre, inadvertently blocking an impatient little lady who is more eager than you to get her shopping done. She brushes past you with her grocery-bag-on-wheels and heads off to the fishmonger's. 

In the end, you've walked the long stretch of market that runs down the middle of Boulevard Raspail several times. You've fallen for a crusty loaf of bread, sprung on fresh figs, and indulged in a camembert. You realize that this was so much more than just a grocery trip. You took the time to feast your senses, a joy that will continue well into the day as you enjoy the delicacies you bring home. 

And you promise to do it all over again, next Sunday.

Scenes from the Bastille Market on Serious Eats

Clay Williams' pictures from his wandering around the Bastille Market in Paris have me dreaming of market stalls heavy with ripe tomatoes, juicy peaches and pungent cheeses, here on this rainy day in New York. There's only one solution really, short of a miraculous time and space travel to a French summer market, so I'm off to browse my own photos... I'll share a few good ones soon!

I want to be strolling through this tunnel right now. Photo Credit : Clay Williams.

 

 

Seasonal mushroom... Photo Credit : Clay Williams.

One of my favorite French classics : paupiette de veau (a thin veal cutlet wrapped around spiced ground meat stuffing and tied with a slice of fat, usually served with a cream sauce). Photo Credit : Clay Williams.

Olive stalls really get to me... Maybe because a variety of hummus, marinated vegetables and northern African bread are usually also sold here, bringing together all the pieces of an amazing mezze plate. Photo Credit : Clay Williams.

Choucroute!!! So much more than just sauerkraut, this Alsatian dish slow cooks the cabbage with a ton of different sausages, smoked and cured meats. Photo Credit : Clay Williams.

For the full article and slideshow, see Market Scene: Bastille Market in Paris by Clay Williams on Serious Eats.