So the other day husband and I were reminiscing about how, when I first moved to Paris, we would book a hotel almost every weekend so we could discover the city together. Since then Paris has faded into the background, overshadowed by the normal routines of daily life and reduced to the "quartiers" most convenient to us. Paris had become familiar. Exploration stopped and preference given to other destinations.
So when I found myself unexpectedly off for two weeks I decided to use this time to rediscover Paris. To do the things I had always wanted to do but for one reason or another never got to, like Angelina's famous hot chocolate. The best in Paris they say.
Angelina's. Every time I was in the area the line was out the door and I couldn't justify waiting for more than 15 minutes for a cup of hot chocolate. But I always remained curious as obviously the majority of people felt differently. So when I woke up today on the last day of summer to autumn's chilly welcome I thought it ideal to go to Angelina's.
But first lunch. I had a craving for dim sum and the only decent dim sum I know of in Paris is on one of my favorite streets in Paris. Rue Saint-Denis. I was introduced to this street when husband took me to a restaurant called "Chez Mimi's" for New Year's eve one year not knowing how much attention he was going to get as it turned out to be run by transsexuals. The street is a bizarre mix of clothing boutiques, restaurants (mostly Asian) and sex shops. It's notorious for prostitution even in broad daylight.
Unfortunately when I got there the dim sum restaurant was closed for renovation so I tried my luck at the Hong Kong noodle place next door even though it was almost empty (I don't trust empty restaurants). I was reassured by the flux of customers that came in after me most of them speaking Chinese to the waiters who could hardly speak French. I was further assured as I ate my noodles among slurping sounds (a sure sign of an authentic Asian restaurant).
Next I headed to Angelina's and was delighted to see that the line was only halfway out the door. Ten minutes later I was shown to my table with it's crisp white table cloth, made myself comfortable in the Louis XVI dining chair, and ordered the 8 euro "L'Africaine".
It was actually quite good. Smooth and creamy but not too thick (unlike the chocolate syrup that is the Ladurée's hot chocolate) topped nicely with the side of Chantilly creme.
I ended the afternoon digesting the copious chocolate while lounging in the Jardin de Tuileries warmed by the sun to my right while simultaneously being cooled by the fresh autumn breeze to my left.
Paris, je (re)t'aime.
So when I found myself unexpectedly off for two weeks I decided to use this time to rediscover Paris. To do the things I had always wanted to do but for one reason or another never got to, like Angelina's famous hot chocolate. The best in Paris they say.
Angelina's. Every time I was in the area the line was out the door and I couldn't justify waiting for more than 15 minutes for a cup of hot chocolate. But I always remained curious as obviously the majority of people felt differently. So when I woke up today on the last day of summer to autumn's chilly welcome I thought it ideal to go to Angelina's.
But first lunch. I had a craving for dim sum and the only decent dim sum I know of in Paris is on one of my favorite streets in Paris. Rue Saint-Denis. I was introduced to this street when husband took me to a restaurant called "Chez Mimi's" for New Year's eve one year not knowing how much attention he was going to get as it turned out to be run by transsexuals. The street is a bizarre mix of clothing boutiques, restaurants (mostly Asian) and sex shops. It's notorious for prostitution even in broad daylight.
Unfortunately when I got there the dim sum restaurant was closed for renovation so I tried my luck at the Hong Kong noodle place next door even though it was almost empty (I don't trust empty restaurants). I was reassured by the flux of customers that came in after me most of them speaking Chinese to the waiters who could hardly speak French. I was further assured as I ate my noodles among slurping sounds (a sure sign of an authentic Asian restaurant).
Next I headed to Angelina's and was delighted to see that the line was only halfway out the door. Ten minutes later I was shown to my table with it's crisp white table cloth, made myself comfortable in the Louis XVI dining chair, and ordered the 8 euro "L'Africaine".
It was actually quite good. Smooth and creamy but not too thick (unlike the chocolate syrup that is the Ladurée's hot chocolate) topped nicely with the side of Chantilly creme.
I ended the afternoon digesting the copious chocolate while lounging in the Jardin de Tuileries warmed by the sun to my right while simultaneously being cooled by the fresh autumn breeze to my left.
Paris, je (re)t'aime.
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