Puppy love- searching high and low to make their favorite treats

How much do I love the beagles? Enough to make their favorite doggy treats (recipe courtesy of my mom) just in time for their arrival on Saturday.

Five simple ingredients: Wheat flour, wheat germ, brown sugar, peanut butter, and milk.  While most of these items are common in the US, surprisingly they are less ubiquitous here in France.  I had to go to four different shops  to find everything I needed. Flour and  milk can be found at any grocery store.  Wheat germ, however, was found at a "bio" store - one that specializes in organic and all natural items.   Peanut butter was quite elusive.  A staple in most children's lunchboxes and a constant companion to jelly or banana, I was surprised and disappointed at how unavailable peanut butter is here in France. In my local Monoprix (a grocery store chain), I have my choice of over five types of honey (bio, eucalyptus, lavender infused, etc) even more varieties of confitures (jams).  I am elated with the two shelves of Nutella, but I would gladly relinquish one shelf, even half a shelf, to peanut butter.  I've seen peanut butter in stores, but they tended to be in neighborhoods where expats live or work.  In fact, they are often found in the "international" aisles.  And I am not even sure if there is one crystal of brown sugar anywhere in this country.  As a substitute, I had to use this liquid caramel sugar concoction (basically put water and sugar and cook until thickened and brown).  Not quite the same as brown sugar, but a decent substitute for doggy cookies.  From the looks, and smell, of the treats, I think the goodies turned out fine.

Just for kicks, below are what I found under the "American" section in a local grocery store.

Sugar High

You have not experienced a true croissant until you have sampled one in France. And even in France, not all patisseries (pastry shops) are a like.  Some have croissants that are not flaky enough while others not buttery enough.  I still haven't found one so flaky and buttery that it just melts in my mouth - my ultimate goal. A few have come close.  When I find a croissant that is close to perfection, it stops me in my tracks. Before I am even out of the shop, I am unwrapping the croissant from its paper cover.  If it is a good croissant, the initial bite always makes me pause. I stop, savor, and thank the heavens that I live in France.

This weekend, my last before Thomas arrives in France, I decided to try to find some pastry and chocolate shops that bloggers have been raving about.   Google "best pastry shops in Paris," and pages of blogs appear listing all the their favorites.  I found a location where there were a few patisseries within walking distance from each other and that was my destination for this afternoon.

As I walked from shop to shop (I only hit 4 because my 5 mile run this morning made me more tired than I realized)... as I walked from shop to shop I finally understood what being an artisan means.  Most establishments had the chocolatier or pastry chef in the shop name. And most had the name on edible placards on each pastry or chocolate morsel.  They are proud of their work.  And after sampling a few, you easily recognize that they should be.  Not only the tastes, but also the presentations are works of art. I tried taking a some photos, but the pictures I took through glass do not do the desserts justice.  And yes, these do taste as good as they look. You can either take my word for it, or come to France to see for yourself.

Macaron tree (meringue cookies) in the store display of Hugo & Victor.

Jams and sugar cookies at Poline,

Croissant from Poline.

Napoleon type deserts at Patisserie Sadaharu Aoki.

The Fraiser from Christian Constant.

On an interesting note. I had a light lunch along with the Fraiser at  Christian Constant near the Jardin de Luxembourg.  In addition to sugary confections he had a small variety of savory dishes. I decided to have a small quiche and tabbouleh salad at one of his indoor tables.  He warned me though that there was a 20% service surcharge if you sit down and eat at the cafe -- and that is why people don't tip at restaurants. Service is already included in the bill... and the light bulb clicks on...

Paris in Pictures

I spent today walking around the area near Notre Dame Cathedral.  Below are some of the photos.

Looking across the Seine River at the Palais du Justice.

On the Pont Neuf (bridge) looking at the Palais du Justice

Square right outside Notre Dame Cathedral.
A rare quiet moment.

Inside Notre Dame Cathedral.

Love Padlocks. Placed on bridges by couples to symbolize
their eternal love. The Pont des Art is the main bridge where
love padlocks are found, but these were on the  Pont de
 l'Archevêché near Notre Dame.

One of the more creative locks.

Look at all the love in the world!

One of the many scooters zooming around Paris.

This pretty much sums up Paris in August.
Translation: "Closed until September 5th.
Good vacation to all."  You find many of
these signs posted on doors of restaurant
and store throughout Paris.

"Thanksgiving" store where you can buy American brands.

The bounty inside Thanksgiving.  I found that peanut butter,
 what I think of as a staple-  to be a most elusive item.  You
can find five types of honey and ten varieties of jam at any
supermarket, but you have to go to a grocery store in the part
 of Paris where Americans tend to shop to find a jar of peanut
butter.  And even then, it may not be a familiar brand.  I searched 
for  2 weeks so that I can make some doggy treats for the puppies.
Finally found one in a grocery store in the Marais neighborhood.

Couldn't leave Thanksgiving without a few items.  There is a
price for having familiar products, and it seems to be double
prices in the States.

Wired

Two weeks.  That is how long it took to get internet hooked up at the new apartment.  Patience is a virtue one must have in France in general and especially in the summer.  I wait for the bus.  I wait for the lights to activate in the ladies room (motion detected). Sometimes I am in there in the dark waving my hands around for a few seconds before it senses my presence.  I stop and wait for automatic doors to open while I stand in front of it.  These "automated" things slow you down. The pace is slower because you can't go any faster.  Ca va aller (it will be fine).

It could be worse.  It is the summer after all.  I was ready for Thomas to get here before the internet.  So two weeks aint so bad.

We decided to go with Free internet which has notoriously bad customer service.  Everyone from my banker to the kids at franglish kept saying that it was the most "interesting".  Since we can get the service without a contract, I thought we would try it out and if it didn't work then we can find another.  I was slightly worried that it wouldn't be a plug and play set up and that i would have to read the instructions or have to call customer service (which would test my French considerable). With a little bit of logic, a little bit of French, and a lot of looking at the pictures, I successfully managed to get the apartment wired. 

A picture is worth a thousand hours on the phone with customer service.

Not sure if it is working 100% but it is working enough to get the laptop on the internet and to get facetime working on the iphone.  And that is good enough for now.

Sometimes looking at the pictures is  not enough to get you by.  Yesterday I bought a bag of frozen calamari thinking they were onion rings (it said calamar on them but I didn't even bother to try to read the french-- my bad).  And I realized just the other day that I have been washing my clothes with fabric softener thinking it was laundry detergent.  All the bottles have pictures of laundry on them. Plus it had the word "lavande" on it -  which to me was close to laver which means wash. Apparently it means lavender. I did five loads before I realized my mistake.  My clothes smelled nice (like lavender), but they were not clean.

On a different note. I also learned today that the 467 bus that should be part of my commute to and from work changed routes for the month of August.  This was the bus issue I posted about a few weeks ago.  The bus is suppose to drop folks off just down the hill from my apartment, but instead, just before heading into town it takes the route of the 360 bus.  I missed my bus stop the other day because it never passes my bus stop. I found this out because as I was looking at the posted route on the bus, a German woman who spoke perfect English explained the posted route is not correct during August (a sign saying that would have been helpful).  As she was explaining this to me, all became clear.  I even remember another women who didn't speak English trying to explain something important to me the first time I took this bus-- now I know what she was trying to say.  With ever learning experience there is always a silver lining. In taking this bus, I met someone in the neighborhood who is somewhat of an outsider (she does not consider herself French even though she grew up here) who speaks perfect English.  Perhaps our paths will cross again.

T minus seventeen days

Three months is entirely too long to be away from the hubby.  It doesn't matter that he was here for a week in July or that we can FaceTime.  I miss the everyday moments of waking him up in the morning with a little nudge, cooking together, or just sitting across from each other at dinner.  Three months is way too long of a time to not have shared moments even if ordinary.  Paris is fun for sure.  I can find many things to do. There are lots of things going on in and out of the city, but there is something missing that makes even being in Paris less than 100% satisfactory.

Today, I had a great run in the Parc de Saint-Cloud.  It was a little sketchy at first since I had to run through the woods to get to the main area, but after 10 minutes on the trail, it opened up to the park where lots of people were on bikes, running or walking.  Not getting lost meant the morning was successful!  The park is beautiful and large with lots of spaces to explore (fortunately or unfortunately depending on your preference, lots of hills between you and scenic views).  I think there is a chateau in there somewhere because I was running through some formal gardens (pictured above) where the layout reminded me a lot of Versailles.  It was beautiful.  I focused on the scenery instead of the fact that it was all up hill going home. And when I got home there was no one to share how my run went.  No one to tell that you can see the Eiffle Tower at the edge of the park. I think it's that fact that makes things less than complete.

Thankfully, they will arrive soon. September 1st is their arrival date.  I have been spending most of my time trying to get the basics so we can live comfortably until our furniture arrives at the end of September.  We have a table and chair so we won't have to eat standing up. We have a floor lamp so we don't have to go to bed when the sunsets at 9:30.  I think we have what we need. I know I am tired of shopping.

A Garches Weekend

Despite an invite to a beach day trip, I decided to spend my first Saturday seeing what Garches had to offer.  I woke up around 9 and went to the market in the center of town.  I have been unenthusiastic about the vegetables in the grocery stores, so I was anxious to see what I could find at the  biweekly market. I was not disappointed.  While smaller than what I expected, there was an array of offers from vegetables to seafood from flowers to homemade pasta.  There were also two vendors selling antiques. And like any other market in France, you can also buy a wallet, shoes, and clothing.

Now if sellers respond to demand, it is logical to assume that one can tell a lot about a community by the style of clothing sold at the market. And judging by what was offered this morning, the people of Garches are either frumpy or old.  I am worried that it might be the latter given that when I was at church last week I was the youngest person there by 20 years until a nine year old girl walked in.  It is hard to judge though considering it's vacation. Perhaps all the young denizens are away for the month of August. That is entirely plausible.

The market itself had everything I needed.  I found it hard to shop since I didn't have any idea what I needed for the week.  Since I bought a cast iron stove top grill yesterday, I decided to make skewers. I made sure I bought something from each stall.  I bought green peppers and lemon from one stand, mushrooms from another, and asparagus from yet another.  My French was still weak, but pointing is a universal language so I managed.   I still haven't gathered enough courage to go to the butcher.  Not only is the vocabulary different, but the style of cuts of meat are different as well.  I'll need to study up on that one before venturing there.  Last stop was the baked goods.  It took all my will power not to order any tarts or other sweet treats he had--so tempting!  I only ordered a baguette ordinare and of course a crossaint. It was so flaky yet so buttery that it just melted in my mouth.

I took my loot home and then headed out again to explore Garches.  I found some interesting shops.  We have, a what I call, a bric brac shop.  A mom and pop store that sells house hold items like shower curtains, cooking utensils, place mats- basic items people need.  I found the flower shop, the fancy bakery that sells French macaroons, and randomly a Nepalese restaurant.  There was no one in there, but this is something I might have to check out once Thomas gets here next month.

There seems to be things around.  It will be interesting to see how things pick up after everyone returns next month.  After my little village exploration I managed to put together my little kitchen window flower box with basil, thyme, and rosemary.  Can't wait to cook with those herbs.

Life in Garches will certainly be different than life in the 14th arrondissement.  I will call it village life here. People may disagree, but to me, if it's not in the city than it's a village.  The pace is slower. It is quiet.  Tranquil is a good way to describe it.

Garches Market

First meal on the new cast iron grill

Dinner almost al fresco

New window herb garden

Les vacances

Odd thing about Paris in mid-August- all the Parisians disappear.   Heaven forbid you need a plumber. Too bad, they are away for three weeks.  Do you need to see your doctor? Well, they left for their summer house and will be back in September.  Don't put the trash in the common trash bin, the guy who takes care of the common area won't be back until September 1st.  Even the nice young women who works at the boulangerie next to my old apartment went to Poland for the month.  The walk home from the train in the evening is quite lonely since all the usual passengers have left for vacation.   Well, that leaves Paris for me and the tourists.   There is room on the metro. I get a seat on bus and no long lines at the shops.   There is room to breath.

Train back to Garches from Paris

I'm smart, but not bus smart

Second day of going from the office to the new apartment in Garches.  Yesterday, I took the tram and then the train. Once you make the transfer (which is not so easy for lack of signage and the poor use of arrows), the train is straight forward.  Plus, the walk from the train station via the center of town takes you past some beautiful houses.

Today I decided to take the 126 bus and then transfer to the 467.  The 126 is through an urban area where the bus stops are well marked, and they announce each stop on the bus. The 467 is through the banlieu  (suburbs).  The stops are easily a half mile from each other, and the bus driver goes incredible fast.  I could barely keep up following where we were.  Of course I missed my stop by 4 stops. By the time I figured out I had gone too far, I was already in the next town.  No cabs if you get lost, so my only option was to head back and pay better attention.  Most times, to go back from which you came you just cross the street to find the corresponding bus stop.  Well, not at this particular area. I had to cross the street, turn a corner and head up the hill a bit. I'm glad it was not at night. One benefit was that I did get to a good grocery store on the route, but I was so turned around that I can't tell how far it was from the new apartment.  Lesson learned for the day: train to Garches a much better experience than the bus.

The blank canvas- our new home in Garches

This is our home sweet, currently empty, home- all 50 square meters of it.  I am trying to imagine it with colorful rugs, wooden bookshelves and paintings.  It will soon feel nice and homey.  Soon, meaning in about a month and a half. That is when our stuff should arrive from the US.  In the mean time, I'm trying to decide what I should purchase to make the next few weeks comfortable.  Curtains for one.  There is a huge back yard, but that means a clear view of the neighbors.  Thankfully they are nice.  The sister of the owner has providence over that backyard greens space. I saw her and her husband early this evening walking around. They saw me too, so we chatted a bit - romeo and juliet style.  They speak English, so everyone will be able to communicate- even Molly and Scout.  I also recently (today) bought an air mattress.  I braved the jungle that is Les Quatres Temps, a behemoth of a shopping mall that you get to after navigating a maze of metro tunnels.  If getting from the metro to the shopping center doesn't tire you out, fighting the crowds in the Auchan store (France's version of a Wall Mart) will.  There is nothing pleasant about shopping at a mall. The air is stale, the lighting is too dim, and the people too plentiful.  I might have to brave it a few more times to get some of the things I need (a table and chair for example).  I would order online, but I still haven't figured out how to get deliveries to your apartment when apartments don't have unit numbers.  Do I just tell the store we are on the 1er etage (US second floor) unit on the right once you are facing the elevator? Really, France. How hard is it to put some permanent numbers on the doors, so that you can easily tell visitors and delivery folks where you live?  

The apartment has great potential.  Despite the emptiness, this is actually a very cozy apartment. It's bright and sunny with those huge windows.  While it is lacking in closet space, it does come with a brand new oven and a full size, grown up fridge.  The town has a great weekend market. I am ready to buy some fresh produce and try some new recipes. As soon as I buy some pots and pans.