Letter from Paris 24 April

Today there was no plan, no itinerary nothing special but just BE in Paris, strolling, taking in the space and feeling the energy of this incredible city. In local terms, a flâneur and a flâneuse undertaking together flânerie of the city.

It was a day like many others in the past and yet utterly different in the things we observed, the places we experienced as we wound ourselves through the city.

don't let the entrance fool you

After a leisurely morning we made our way to the Marché des Enfant Rouges. Opened in 1628 it is reportedly the oldest covered market in Paris and was named after the children who were clothed in red and lived at a nearby orphanage.

We were in search of Miam Miam, a food vendor specializing in sandwiches and located inside the market, a suggestion we found while watching "Alice in Paris," a series streaming on Amazon Prime. It took us a few minutes to find the entrance to the market — right under our noses at 39 rue de Bretagne. Once inside it was controlled chaos — few actual food purveyors it was mostly a collection of food stalls with seating scattered here and there. Since it was lunchtime it was crowded and with narrow aisles it was rather claustrophobic.

Anyway, our vendor, as it turned out, was closed Tuesdays. So we opted to leave the Marché and go in search of something a little less hectic.

Once back onto rue Bretagne we passed a common sight in the city:

Back onto rue Bretagne we strolled a block or so looking for just the right place for lunch; we tend to operate on hunches; the kind of hunch that says "you'll know it when you see it." And we saw Iovine.

We walked inside and were met by an amiable young man who motioned us to a small table; okay they were all small tables where with one sitting along a banquette facing the other. After ordering a brace of cocktails we settled in for a leisurely and, as it turned out, delicious lunch. Susie’s salad came with wonderful toasted bread with melted stracchino cheese; my salad came with large chunks of tuna and olives with a side of small slices of thin crust pizza. All washed down with two glasses of the house rosé.

Both of us were so taken with the friendly atmosphere, the wonderful people — it was small, very small — and the chance to speak Italian that we immediately decided to return for my birthday dinner.

look at those chunks of tuna!

pear ricotta custard for dessert/dolce

After lunch we made our way to our favorite department store: BHV (Bazaar Hôtel de Ville). After using the bathrooms (5th floor) we browsed through their book section and I found two books on Paris Cemeteries to add to my collection. Since we got a discount coupon with our purchase Susie will most likely return to browse the baking and women's clothing sections before we leave.

From BHV we walked past the Hôtel across the Seine, skirted the crowds at Notre Dame and made our way past Musée Cluny and one of my favorite statues, of Montaigne, turning up Boulevard Saint-Michel to the Jardin de Luxembourg.

Hôtel e Ville

history is literally right on the street

Near the Musée de Cluny we came the ubiquitous signs of the far past and the present in sight of one another:

charging stations are becoming more prevalent

Montaigne smirking at all passersby who think they don't have the time to meditate on life's quirks.

a fascinating sculpture near the rue Soufflot entrance to the jardin

Leaving the Jardin we walked up rue Gay-Lussac looking for another restaurant, Les Papilles thinking we might make reservations for an upcoming dinner but it was closed that day. So we meandered past the Institut Curie on rue d'Ulm, over to the rue Mouffetard, picking up some rotisserie potatoes along the way. From the "Mouff" we made our way to Avenue des Gobelins and then took back streets over to our apartment, both of us feeling the fatigue in our legs from a good day of flânerie in Paris.

Once back home and still full from our wonderful lunch we had a light dinner of rotisserie potatoes.

Next: a birthday wish come true and fascinating Parisians.