THE PARIS LETTER: Finally, American beer in Paris!

Not available in Paris ... until now!

I don't know if I've written about this before, but you can't get American beer in Paris. Like absolutely you can't get it. Not in a can, not in a bottle, not on draft, not in the supermarket, not in a bar, nowhere. There's one beer store here that occasionally has a few Sierra Nevadas that they sell for 4 Euros each, but that's it, and I'm sure those came over in someone's luggage.

But wait! What's that I see in hip South Pigalle? Could it be Brooklyn Lager ON TAP? Indeed it is, gentle reader, and you could have knocked me over with a pint glass because how is this happening??

Well, all I can tell you is that it IS happening, at a bar called LE GLASS that is some kind of only-in-France mashup of hip cocktail lounge and American college bar - in that it is ALL BLACK and has no sign, but then when you walk in they have numerous American beers and you can order pitchers, onion rings, and hot dogs. Except everyone is wearing black and speaking French. Only in Paris, but there's good beer, so who cares?

LE GLASS is the offspring of the same people who run Candelaria, the Mexican cocktail bar/taco stand in the Marais where I once got very drunk on margaritas. They just opened up Le Glass in September, and I didn't even know about the ABOT (American Beer on Tap) until I walked in - I later learned they're the only bar in all of Paris to offer it. Yay for it being walking distance from my house!

LE GLASS
7 Rue Frochot 75009 Paris
M: Pigalle
Open daily from 7PM-2AM
Too cool to have a phone.

THE PARIS LETTER: A Nora Moment

Last night, I had what I'm calling a Nora Moment. This is after Nora in Ibsen's A DOLL'S HOUSE, and yes, I was a theater major in college.

For those of you who don't know the play, A DOLL'S HOUSE is a classic work about women's liberation that was first performed in 1879. In it, the aforementioned heroine goes from being a secure if somewhat infantilized wife and mother to walking out on her husband and children forever.  When asked by her husband how she can abandon her most sacred duties of being a wife and mother, she famously replies: "I have another duty, which is equally sacred: my duty to myself."

Needless to say, this play was extremely explosive when it came out, and continues to provoke strong reactions in people, largely because Nora's choice at the end is so absolute and goes so deep. Even in our post-feminist age, when I think about the play I can't imagine doing what Nora does in the end, ever.

But. I have had a few Nora moments.

A Nora Moment is a moment when, as a wife and mother, you just want to get the hell away from your husband and child and be by yourself, possibly forever. A Nora moment is when you feel like you spent all day thinking and doing for others - and even though those others are the people you love the most in the world, you just don't remember who you are anymore, or what you want from life. But you desperately WANT to remember, and you know you were doing something before all this happened. A Nora moment is, I imagine, very similar to a Room of One's Own moment, though I've never read that book - I'm just going from the title.

I had one of these last night. Sophia is teething in a major way, and keeps waking up screaming even after big doses of Doliprane (French children's Tylenol). Matt is sick and also might be out of town for part of the upcoming week, the day care is having an emergency closure tomorrow, and I spent the day inside cooking - which I used to love and find very relaxing, but I just overdid it yesterday and ended up feeling like all I do is cook, wash dishes, and do laundry. And then at three in the morning Matt was very grumpy post-Sophia wake up, and said some grumpy things to me. And I was like: Get Me Out of Here! WHEN will I actually have an unbroken stretch of time to THINK!

I have a friend here who was on bedrest for the last three months of her pregnancy, and when her daughter was six months old, she took herself on an overnight to Chartres. Alone. I remember when she told me this, I was surprised! But as she explained it - I just needed one night to myself, morning when I could wake up when I wanted and have breakfast already waiting for me.

I have to say, though I didn't need this when Sophia was 6 months, I think I may need it now.  Stay tuned - I talked this over with Matt and he said he would take Sophia so I could go away for the weekend by myself. "As long as you come back!" he said. Which of course I would. I love my little family. But sometimes you need a break in order to be true to yourself.

THE PARIS LETTER: A Trip to Brussels

Why yes, that is a giant Brussels sprout

We were looking for an easy and cheap trip to take from Paris with the baby, and we settled on Brussels, just 90 minutes away by train. Brussels is a totally lovely city, and another nice thing about it is that the pressure is off - there are no can't-miss sights.

Normally, this wouldn't be a recommendation for a vacation; as my New York friend Liz put it - "I feel like you're advocating I take a vacation to Philly". But sometimes its just nice to be in a new place, and to make your own schedule. There's no Louvre or Eiffel Tower, just some pretty walks, good food, and even better beer. And French fries. And the European Parliament. You know, some typical weekend stuff.

We arrived at Brussels Midi station around 11:30, and were able to walk to our hotel in about 20 minutes. The impetus for the trip was really that I had a free hotel night from Hotels.com, so we stayed at the Vintage Hotel, a funny little boutique hotel where all the furniture is very Sixties.

On a side note, I'm working on making the photos better on this site. Really I am. I need to start by not taking them with my Blackberry. Or maybe I should just not even have a Blackberry. Seriously.

The hotel was right near the Louise metro, though we ended up never taking any public transit and just walking everywhere - its that kind of town, though with a few more hills than Paris. Matt and I enjoy exploring new cities on foot, and this often leads to some awesome discoveries and some long trudges through boring parts of town. Here are some highlights from our walks, after the jump:

THE PARIS LETTER: Maison des Petits, CentQuatre

Way better than hanging out in our tiny pad

It rains a lot here. In fact, Paris's dirty little secret is that it's weather is exactly like London's. Or Seattle's. It never gets too cold or too hot, but it is gray. Graaaaay. And rainy. We've already had two months, June and October, where it rained for at least half the time. And while I'm very happy to have skipped out of New York before Hurricane Sandy, or any number of severe blizzards and blistering heatwaves, I can tell you that rain rain rain day after day is no fun either.

Especially when you've got a child. And a 450 square foot apartment.

So that is why this week's endorsement goes to Paris's many free indoor playspaces, which I've been exploring this fall. Today's playspace: Maison des Petits at CentQuatre.

CentQuatre, or 104, is a huge public arts space in what used to be Paris's premiere crematorium and coffin factory. Yes, that's right. Just like Parc de la Villette repurposed Paris's slaughterhouses, CentQuatre has turned this factory for death into art. So French, right?

Anyway, it is GREAT -  a huge space where you can go hear a concert, see an art installation, have lunch at Les Grands Tables de CentQuatre (or at the fun Camion a Pizza, a pizza truck with a woodburning oven).

And, if you have children between the ages of 0 and 5, you can take them to the Maison des Petits:

This is basically a giant playspace, with areas for toys, fingerpainting, books and music, plus a little space for babies who aren't walking yet, coffee and tea for parents, and an all important changing room. Though at least one parent is expected to stay with their children at all times, there is a staff on duty that runs things, helps kids get toys, and breaks up any conflicts, so you can sit in the corner and read a book if you want, or chat with other parents.

For me, its both a great way to get Sophia out of the house on a rainy day, and for her its really stimulating to be around the other kids , and - of course - all the new toys -

On the weekends and on Wednesdays (when maternelle, the French preschool, is not in session) there can be a bit of a wait, but CentQuatre is so lively that the wait is never boring - one afternoon we got to play with huge boxes of Legos provided by a charitable organization while we listened to a rock band tune up for a concert that night (Sophia found the thumping bass particularly exciting), and another day we found ourselves in the middle of a breakdancing festival, so we got to watch various dancers do amazing tricks.

Each time, the wait was not much more than 20 minutes, and if you come right when they open there's usually no wait at all. And, did I mention it's free? Paris tourists with little ones, this is also an option for you, though be prepared to speak some French and blend in, as this is more designed for Parisian families -

Here's some details for all you cooped up parents out there:

LE CENTQUATRE

LA MAISON DES PETITS
LE 104
104 Rue d'Aubervilliers, 75019 Paris
01 53 35 51 21
Metro: Stalingrad or Riquet
Tuesday-Friday  3-6PM
Saturday/Sunday 2-7PM 
Closed Monday
 

THE PARIS LETTER: Trapped by Socialist Childcare

Hey everyone!

The new Slate piece is up, just in time for the election. This one is about childcare policies in France and how they've made it easier for Matt and I to both pursue our professional goals and be there for our daughter - The comments are amazing and already eliciting the kind of discussion I'd hoped for when I came up with the piece.

Please go give it a read, comment, like it on Facebook, yell at me about Socialism, whatever you want -

President Hollande visiting a creche at the Elysee Palace

THE PARIS LETTER: The Problem with Dr.Seuss

One thing that happens a lot when you're an American learning to speak French is that you unwittingly make some kind of sexual joke without realizing it, and French people laugh at you. This is because just about every word in the French language is a double entendre, no surprise there. Some of my favorite examples:

The word for "line" is "queue" but intead of pronoucing this like the letter Q, as you would in England, you pronounce it "keuh" (I guess - its still hard for me). The word that sounds like the letter Q is "Cul" which is slang for "ass". So often I'd be asking some people outside the boulangerie Is this the ass? instead of Is this the line? Super awesome.

The word for "lower" is baisser, but the slang word for "to fuck" is baiser. Got that? Bahsay - lower; Bayzay - fuck. Yes, I've messed that one up so much that I try never to ask anyone to lower anything for me ever.

This brings me, interestingly enough, to Dr.Seuss, that children's classic author that basically does not exist in France. In large part, this is because its nearly impossible to translate his awesome rhymes into French - Usually, you end up with a literal translation:

Yes, that's Green Eggs and Ham in its literal French translation. They make a good effort to translate the book into rhyming French, but its just hard - for lots of reason, but mostly because these need to be easy readers,  so you can't really reach far for a synonym.

BUT, another, perhaps lesser known reason why Dr.Seuss isn't read much in France - The name Seuss sounds the same as "Suce" which means "suck" which .... yes you guessed it....is slang for blowjob.

So one American friend of mine was telling her French husband about getting some Dr.Seuss books for their daughter, and her husband turned to her, horrified.

"Our daughter is not reading anything by someone named 'Seuss'!" he said.

Interestingly enough, there's a company here in Paris that specializes in digging holes in streets - for electrical work, etc - that call their trucks "Les Suceuses de Ouest". Yes, that means "the suckers of the West" but also....well, you get the idea. And the trucks are all PINK and have women's names. I believe one of them is even called Monica if you can believe that.

Yes! That's their ad! Its a winking elephant and the caption says "Janine, Monica, Linda and the others are ready to help you out whenever you want." Oy. 

Here's a pic of one of them on my street recently. The French, still not super up to date on the whole women's rights thing...
 

Our Best Paris Dinner Spot: Le Verre Vole

Wow, I almost don't want to post this because its really our favorite spot. This is very Parisian of me, actually - its hard to pry "les bonnes adresses" out of the folks in this town, they're always so worried that the place will be discovered and then they'll never get in again. Which I guess is a legitimate concern, we've all had places that we loved that became so popular we could no longer love them (Momofuku Ssam Bar comes to mind here...)

Matt loves Le Verre Vole!

BUT here's what a French person will do that an American probably wouldn't do - when asked point blank "Where did you get your hair cut?" or "Where did you find that amazing scarf?", or even - and of course - "Where did you buy this amazing baguette?", Parisians will have no qualms totally evading a straight answer if they don't want to tell you "Oh, around. Just some place in my neighborhood. Over that way (waving vaguely in a direction) - But you WILL NOT pry an actual address out of them if its a favorite they want to keep as their secret.

Whereas, an American would proudly tell you just where they got their haircut, and how much it cost, sometimes even before you ask.

So I'm torn about telling you about this place, because it is really something special and its CHEAP. But will I still be able to get a reservation once I've posted this? We shall see.

Delicious Orsin, or French sea urchin

LE VERRE VOLE
62 Rue de Lancry
75010 Paris
Open for lunch and dinner every day
+33 (0)1 48 03 17 34

Le Verre Vole is a wine bar specializing in natural wines, which they serve with a variety of seasonal small plates and a couple of nightly main dishes. Its small, sometimes cramped, and still very groovy, just on the edge of the Canal Saint Martin. And, all importantly, its open on Sunday nights, one of the hardest nights to find a decent place to eat in Paris. When it opened a few years back, it was THE place to be, though now trendier bistros have eclipsed it and its easier to book a table - it still does good business, but its not the center of attention it once was, which I personally am happy about.

Beet & Goat Cheese salad and Ceviche Salad

We usually load up on the appetizers (confusingly called entrées in French), which often include much seafood and organ meats in interesting combinations. Oh, yes - this isn't a good restaurant for you if you're a vegetarian or have other dietary restrictions. One of the best things on the menu by far is the boudin noir, or blood sausage, served with mashed potatoes and salad, and somewhere between a meatloaf and a paté. We get it just about every time we go, a French heart attack on a plate. If this doesn't sound good to you, maybe this isn't the restaurant for you (see, there's a chance it won't get super crowded after all!)

But, if you're an adventurous eater and enjoy trying wines from small, interesting French vineyards, this is a great place. The staff will recommend the wines based on your preferences, and its good if you speak a little French - though the staff can get by in English, you'll get more out of it if you've got a French speaker with you. The nice part about it is that you'll usually get out for around 50 Euros a person, including wine, and feel very well cared for and well fed.

So far, we've been able to book a few days in advance and been just fine...

I believe this was homemade headcheese....delicious...