30 April: A Traveler Runs on His Stomach (Part 1 of an Open-Ended Series
Just got an email from one of my office cohorts, Jeff Carlson, who noted that it seemed that Mrs. F and I were doing nothing but eating our way through Paris. That's hardly the truth!

But it's not too far from it.

We did go on a rather long walking journey yesterday, arching down the quiet, residential Canal St. Martin on over to the bustling commercial area of Rue Rivoli. It also became very hot this weekend, with high sun and temperatures approaching 80 degrees. We stopped for some Heineken refreshment on the rooftop terrace of the Samaritaine department store, where we were treated to an excellent view of the city on a gorgeously clear day.

For dinner, we returned to the crepe restaurant we visited last week. Now, there are a lot of establishments serving crepes, but I have a soft spot in my heart for this one. It seems full of regulars from the neighborhood who come in and shake hands with the crepe chef (who we think is the proprietor) or kiss the head waitress on the cheeks. The crepes are made in full view of the restaurant guests in the front room, and I just love watching the proprietor as he takes the orders by voice, spreads two small ladles of crepe batter onto the griddle and proceeds to spread it out in graceful, Zen-like movement with his wooden crepe spreader, which is like a rake without the teeth. He does all this with a bit of a laugh with the customers or holding his cell phone to the ear via his shoulder. I had a crepe with romaine lettuce sprinkled with bits of chunky European bacon (and the bacon au jus) and topped with a piece of goat cheese that's been browned on the crepe griddle, while Mrs. F went for the bleu cheese.

Oh man, I gotta get a crepe pan when I get home.

I've also become a big fan of kir, a drink made with white wine and a splash of crème de cassis (a red currant liqueur; in a previous post, I referred to it as a blackberry liqueur, but it's been pointed out to me only an idiot would do such a thing; someday, I'm not going to be as complete an idiot I am today). There are several variations on it, including the kir royale made with champagne, but my favorite, served at this crepe restaurant in a small, rustic pottery bowl, is a kir made with cider. It's especially delightful on a warm summer day.