Gourmet Magazine Moment

BillandNancy.com, also known as Bill and Nancy Koenig have been living on the canals of France for eight years. That’s even longer than some Jakey’s have been on the DP rolls. They found this life long ago and have adopted the expat lifestyle as their own. The firehouse and the City must seem a lifetime ago.

Their barge is now tied up at the Arsenal port at the Bastille in Paris, which is like living next to Union Square. They have the mother of all boat locations. They had invited us to have Sunday lunch, there was a guest chef preparing the food.

Sunday was a perfect sunny day in Paris, the cafes were crowded, a mass bicycle event was in place, and crowds were everywhere enjoying the sun. We saw a topless bather across the boat basin and I thought this barge business isn’t so bad.

Bill and Nancy welcomed us to their floating home. Houseguest and celebrity chef were Peter and Jane. They were British by birth but South African by choice. Peter had owned restaurants in Cape Town for over 20 years. They were in the process of having a new barge built for them to live on. Why was this 70 year old international man making me feel like a slug?

We dined under a canvas awning on the back deck facing the water, the Bastille Monument and the Opera House. It was a great lunch of salmon on a bed of pureed watercress and white asparagus. A parade of boats came by as we relaxed at the table.

The constant base beat of a Techno music festival floated down from the Bastille; it was like a soundtrack you couldn’t turn off. Hours went by as did tour boats toting waving visitors, a sail boat, and even a long barge with two young ladies dancing provocatively to entertain the crowds on the banks. Tres Bon !

It was what the Baroness called a Gourmet Magazine Moment, a postcard snapshot for others to look and maybe envy. The food was superb, the friends were delightful, the weather was stunning, and the urban theater both relaxed and invigorating. The hours went by, the wine flowed, and the dead soldiers piled up like glass memorials to good times. Thank you Bill and Nancy. It is SO nice having friends who live in Paris.

The end of the day found me hunched over my laptop in our hotel room. It is 10pm and I am listening to the 49er – Rams game from a continent away. This is a pathetic sight of an unrequited lover and fan. Oh, and the 9ers won.

Last Dance

It was our last evening in Paris and we hurried across town to a favorite restaurant just off the Saint Germain de Pres. There was a light rainfall that slowed down our two Metro, Paris crossing.

The name of the restaurant is le Relais de l’Entrecote; it is very close to the Saint Germain church and the trendy cafes and boutiques of that Boulevard. There is only one thing on the menu, steak and the best pomme frites in Paris; they also do not take reservations, but it is all you can eat.

We joined the nightly line in front of this very popular restaurant and waited our turn. The waitresses scurry about in French maid dresses to feed whatever fantasies may beat in your bad boy breast.

The rooms are always full and noisy; there were lots of families having dinner in this traditional restaurant. The rise and fall of voices is accompanied with hand gestures, laughing, and good feelings. It is all very French. Cigarette smoke swirls around the room from enthusiastic smokers; the coming restaurant smoking ban is January first. Seventy percent of the country supports the ban but a loyal tobacco group is evident.

We talked over our trip and discussed our return home on the following day. An Asian couple next to us chimed in about their trip; of course they were from San Francisco and going to a wedding in Tuscany.

Our umbrellas are drying in the bath tub and we are waiting to pack in the morning. Put this trip in the journal, it is official and it is history.

Strangers And Friends

We arrived home after four weeks on the road; we were weary, jet-lagged, and surprised. Total strangers met us at our door and welcomed us home; we embraced, shook hands, laughed, and all started talking. They took us inside, served us drinks and sat us down for a sumptuous home cooked dinner; in our own home.

The strangers were Tom and Denise Neumann, a traveling tribe of retired transients. Tom is a semi-retired college professor and Denise is a recently retired Air Force Colonel and human force of nature that Tom attempts, unsuccessfully, to keep under wraps.

Last year Tom and Denise stayed in our home for two months while we were in Paris. They kept our plants alive and our cat bemused as they made a culinary tour of Sonoma and Napa; in addition they visited almost every winery that had a license on the wall.

When Mary and I have questions about Sonoma area restaurants we ask Tom or Denise. The Sonoma Chamber of Commerce was thrilled to hear they were coming back for another infusion into the local economy. Denise is the author of last year’s blog entry about their visit to the French Laundry in Yountville.

Mary met Denise on line in some long forgotten website for house sitters or female forces of nature or whatever and the two women bonded immediately. Last year Tom and Denise had to leave before our return, and this year they arrived after our departure. We had never met; the relationship was a virtual one on line and on phone. I know, I know, it’s not normal, nor is it our usual way but there you have it anyway.

They do not visit restaurants as much as dine and make friends wherever they go. While Denise is doing her human force of nature stichk; Tom is casually circling around dropping understated word cluster bombs. He is being very funny and endearing; like a bear that smiles and has a secret. Almost could be.

A Come To Jesus Meeting

The first morning I was in Paris this year I awoke to sunshine and the sounds of a big city. I felt at home; we walked to a Patisserie for some croissants and beignets and then to a kiosk for an International Herald Tribune.

I was in the third ring of Healy happiness. I could feel my mood brighten and my step heighten. I felt I was home; I even ignored my wallet lighten.

I have always liked Paris, and each of my many visits here has been enjoyable for different reasons. I was experiencing feelings of real joy for no other reason than I was back in Paris again. It is time to stop thinking of myself as a guy who likes Paris and admit I have become full fledged Paris junkie and mini Francophile.

It has probably surprised me more than my readers; I can be the last to figure things out sometimes. I just feel fortunate to have a place that makes me feel so good. Lord knows there are enough places that make us all feel bad. I was having a personal come to Jesus meeting with myself about my feelings.

Where this revelation takes me is anyone’s guess; my heart is not geographically neutral. The time now is fall in the Sonoma Valley, the rains have come early and all but some stubborn Cabernet grapes have been harvested. The vineyard colors are changing to reds and yellows. It is great to be home; football season is everywhere but memories of summer linger.

Frequently my mind returns to the canals, I suppose Jim and Mary are trying to finish their barge painting project and to get it winterized. In Paris Bill and Nancy are busy being Parisians; I can only be envious.