We're an aunt and uncle

I’m an aunt! Last week, very excitingly, Steve and I became an aunt and uncle when Steve’s brother, Greg, and his wife, Emily, had Ella Caroline Franklin. We can’t wait to meet her!

Steve and I have just returned from a fun filled weekend in London. I went over on the Eurostar on Thursday morning and worked Thursday and Friday and met Steve after work on Friday evening. I had a bit of time to kill before meeting Steve so I stopped in one of my favorite places, the National Portrait Gallery. They always have the most interesting exhibits. Saturday we met South African friends who we knew in Boston for brunch and then Kate’s college roommate, husband, and new baby for lunch. I spent the afternoon wondering around and went into Harrods. I trust I saw the most important facets of the store – the fine jewelry section and the food halls. After Harrods I went over to the National Gallery, another one of my favorite places to visit in London. We stayed with one of Steve’s friends in his flat in the suburbs of London and overall had a great weekend.

About ten days ago Steve’s French ‘aunt’ (the sister of the father of the family Steve lived with in high school) had us over for dinner, along with her nephew and his wife (who are about our age). It was my first official French dinner party. It was a fantastic evening, with delicious food, and I’d say I maybe understood 10% of the conversation. We had five courses, wonderful wine and champagne, and good company.

My French Soup

Last night I prepared my first French dish, cauliflower soup. Why do I consider this one my first, after already mentioning that we've been eating soup for weeks due to the broken oven (which got fixed last week)? Because the recipe is from a French woman who spends her days writing about French food, while everything else I've made is out of my US cookbooks. Kate pointed out her blog, and I have been visiting it a few times per week. The author is French, but spent time living in the US so she writes in English. I believe she lives somewhere right near us because she often writes about places within a few blocks of our apartment. I made cauliflower soup (recipe), which I have to say, was delicious.

On another note, Steve and I went to the police station this morning and picked up our receipts for our carte de soujours, our next step in the French visa process. In two months we will go back to pick up the actual carte de soujour.

Pictures

A few pictures from the last month+: http://www1.snapfish.com/share/p=275121171318497238/l=244766853/g=2307863/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB

The smoking ban

On February 1st news of the smoking ban was all over the place. I momentarily forgot about it until I opened the paper that morning. I smiled all the way to work. Over lunch I discussed the issue with a nonsmoking co-worker who didn't seem as excited as I was, and declared she was sure someone would strike over the issue. That night Steve and I decided to go out for a drink and as I practically skipped into the bar I came to a cartoon-like screeching halt and my smile quickly faded as I looked around and everyone was smoking.

It would be a lot more convenient if I were fluent in French. If I were, that morning on the train on the way to work I would have been able to read the article which outlined the phased plan to ban smoking in public. We are in phase one now, which bans smoking on the subways and trains, federal buildings, hospitals (?!?!). I am still not too sure of the schedule, except that the last phase is for restaurants and bars, and that will be implemented on February 1, 2008.

1-(415)-738-8725

We are finally connected! Steve set up the phone, internet and cable tv over the weekend so we now have a working Vonage number. The above number is a US San Francisco number that rings directly to our apartment. If you call from outside of San Francisco long distance charges will apply (unless, for instance, you call from your cell which doesn't have those fees), but other than that it is the same as calling any US phone number, there are no international dialing fees. We look forward to hearing from you!

Our weekend was fun and packed. A few highlights:
- We met our landlady, an American who married a French man 30 years ago and is currently living in Morocco. She was interesting to talk to, and told us about one of her old tenants who bought a pass to the Louvre and made it a goal to visit every room. It took him two years, but he made it!
- Saturday night we sat down to dinner and just as Steve was talking about how much he was enjoying the restaurant a group of three women walked in with their Golden Retriever, Vanilla. It was a smallish restaurant that had tables for two lined up along a wall where there are about 2 inches between each table so that if a table for four walks in they can push two together, or six, they can push three together, etc, but if you are two and two sitting next to each other you are officially at separate tables, but really just 2 inches apart. Steve is kind of luke warm about dogs in general, but he definitely doesn't think they belong in restaurants. We got our food before Vanilla's owners so she spent a lot of time sneaking over to our table, putting her head in my lap, then Steve's lap, looking so hopeless and hungry. Eventually she settled down and went to sleep but I got a good laugh out of the whole thing.
- We went to fun parties each night and met more Americans and a few French who are interesting and fun to hang out with.
- Yesterday a co-worker invited us for tea. This guy and his fiancé are getting married in June and moving to Boston for two years in July (us, in reverse). It was a fun afternoon and interesting to learn more about French weddings. This couple is having their wedding at city hall with 100 people and a buffet following the ceremony, then having a lunch for 400 people at a local restaurant/hall kind of place, then having a dinner/reception that evening at a castle outside of the city, with 150 guests. Some guests overlap for all three events, but most do not. I have read this is a typical French way to get married, and that stationary companies are doing a booming business with all those invitations.

The Gym

Weeks ago Steve and I visited the only gym we know of in Paris, a chain called Club Med Gym. They have something like 15 locations in Paris. We went to the gym nearest our apartment and had a tour. After about a week I decided to join. I trudged back to the gym one night after work with the magic four (passport with my visa, proof of residency – either a phone bill or an electricity bill, picture of myself, and bank information) in hand. These four things can get you almost anything you need in France. Anyway, I asked about a company discount and was told I can get one, but I have to buy the membership from work. So the next day my very nice French colleague took me to the employee perks office (I am sure there is a real French term for this, but I don’t know what it is). I was lucky my friend accompanied me because the woman who runs the office doesn’t speak much English. Anyway, I bought the membership (paying for the whole year up front, another thing the French don’t do – credit) and subsequently learned that we are able to buy wine and champagne from this perks office, at a good discount. That was for sure a very exciting discovery which I will definitely be taking advantage of.

I have made it to the gym four or five times now. The gym I go to is located in an old dance school so the rooms all resemble ballet studios. The rest is pretty much the same with weight machines and cardio machines. I will hopefully get to a class this weekend, which will be interesting since it will obviously be in French. One difference so far is the operating hours – the gyms do not open until 7:30 or 8am and most are closed (but not all) on Sundays.

More from Paris

Friday night Steve and I had dinner at a delicious Vietnamese restaurant. We intended to try a fondue restaurant but when we arrived we noticed the restaurant serves all its drinks in baby bottles and that we would be far older than the college aged crowd so we were lucky to find the Vietnamese restaurant across the street.

Saturday we took an hour train ride south to Fontainebleau. The famous business school, Insead, is located in Fontainebleau, as is a beautiful chateau and huge forest. We toured the chateau and walked for a bit through the forest, then ate a few snacks (crepes with Nutella, what else?) and walked around the town. We went to the cheese store and brought home the most delicious goat cheese called Pave du Gard. I have never heard of it before, but it was outstanding and I intend to eat a lot more of it. We had it with our dinner Sunday night, on a baguette. Buying a daily (at least) baguette is a national pastime, as is taste testing the baguette on the walk home. Everyday I see Parisians carrying heel-less baguettes with a content smile on their faces.

Sunday morning I woke early and made my way to the Musée de O’rsay. I was there ten years ago and have been anxious to return. The impressionist paintings in the collection at the O’rsay are so outstanding – Monet (my favorite), Manet, Degas, Van Gogh. It was a real treat to spend some time there and I can’t wait to return.

I made my way from the museum to a street market in the 2nd arrondisement. I only had about fifteen minutes so I made a quick loop, but it was a good market with a lot of hustle and bustle. Most of the street markets have a fish shop, a few butchers, a few cheese stores, a few vegetable stores, and a few restaurants. I always enjoy walking through to see what’s available that day and see what the real French are eating.

From the street market I made my way over to the Grand Palais where I met Steve and two new friends. Peter and Aubrey moved from Boston to Paris in September and we have a mutual friend who introduced us over email. We had a good lunch and walk – it was a gorgeous sunny day and everyone was out enjoying the sun. Not my typical Super Bowl Sunday, that’s for sure. I hope everyone ate a lot of chips and dip for me!

Steve and I are dealing with what feels like endless apartment issues. Our apartment in Paris has a broken stove. As I make my way though my soup cookbook we await anxiously for the repairman. For anyone who has read A Year in Provence, you know how difficult it be to find a repair person in France (and if you haven’t read it you should, it is a very entertaining book). We have an American landlord who is also from Boston, but has lived here for 30 years. She is currently spending most of her time in Morocco so she’s hired a local management company that is somewhat responsive, but we are certainly not holding our breath for home-baked goods. Steve’s condo in Cambridge is facing a bed bug infestation which is more expensive and time consuming to deal with than I ever imagined. And, last week there was a natural gas leak on the block of my Cambridge condo and the gas people had to break into my unit and rip up one of my walls to access the gas pipes. The management company lost my tenant’s contact information so he had quite a surprise when he got home from work. Knock wood that we have reached the end of our apartment woes.