Postcard from Paris - in a word...French
‘It’s all very French’ became the phrase of the weekend. French service culture was in service on the Eurostar when, asked if there was any more tagnetelle for lunch, the girl serving answered not with an apology and an offer of something else, but a gallic shrug and a ‘pufft’ noise that resulted from her blowing air, fascinatingly, apparently up her own ear. Service culture part the second was the way a French at the Musee d’Orsay slammed down his ‘fermee’ sign as we reched the front of the queue at the gift shop. Henceforth, if things were going wrong, or were trying, or were just a bit shit, they would be described as being ‘a bit French’.
I may one day go back to Paris, but it’s hard to envisage the circumstances. Possibly flying a Lancaster full of horse-shit, or if I want to visit 1985, which is where the city is mired. The food, the fashion and the metro were all probably cutting edge in 1985 but things have moved on. For the French, stepping onto the concourse at St Pancras must be like visiting one of those ‘house of the future’ pavilions at fairs, but for real.
London does better food, and better art, for a better price. If I paid 14 quid for a sandwich in London I’d expect to eat it sitting on the throne at Buckingham Palace.
Would I go back? Not unless it was for an event. Other than that, the next time I want to see Paris is down the bomb-sight of a Lancaster full of horse-shit. Having said that, I could do a day. Just a day, wandering the streets at will. Because there is a lot to see here and, to be fair, the best stuff is free. The best sight is not to be found inside a museum, it’s the way the sunlight hits the golden tip of an angel atop a civil building. The most intense experience is not the aged cheese in a café, it’s two young lovers chewing each other’s faces off on the banks of the Seine.
But I think Paris is vanishing, if it’s not already vanished. The whole city has the feel of a theme park. The people conform so perfectly to stereotype that they appear to believe the hype of their own city. The sight of a man who considers himself hetrosexual roller-blading along with every indication of enjoyment is a sure sign of a culture in decline.
And food and wine? Where is the best place to try good French food? Not France. The problem is that while Paris has been ossifying in a miasma of bitterness and dog shit, the rest of the world has surpassed it in terms of cuisine. Also, I hate to break it to the French, but you can get their cheeses in British supermarkets. When you dine it’s an experience, it’s not just about the food. Great service can rescue mediocre food, but great food can’t rescue bad service. Best place for French food? Corsica. The people are friendly (everyone is armed, so everyone is polite) and the food far surpasses anything available in Paris because it all comes from the island. The Brits may have Pot Noodle, but we also have young, enthusiastic cooks who are not afraid to try new stuff. Possibly you’d get strung up for this in a Parisian café. Now, a British café, we’re not scared to try and in introduce salad. As a garnish.
I may one day go back to Paris, but it’s hard to envisage the circumstances. Possibly flying a Lancaster full of horse-shit, or if I want to visit 1985, which is where the city is mired. The food, the fashion and the metro were all probably cutting edge in 1985 but things have moved on. For the French, stepping onto the concourse at St Pancras must be like visiting one of those ‘house of the future’ pavilions at fairs, but for real.
London does better food, and better art, for a better price. If I paid 14 quid for a sandwich in London I’d expect to eat it sitting on the throne at Buckingham Palace.
Would I go back? Not unless it was for an event. Other than that, the next time I want to see Paris is down the bomb-sight of a Lancaster full of horse-shit. Having said that, I could do a day. Just a day, wandering the streets at will. Because there is a lot to see here and, to be fair, the best stuff is free. The best sight is not to be found inside a museum, it’s the way the sunlight hits the golden tip of an angel atop a civil building. The most intense experience is not the aged cheese in a café, it’s two young lovers chewing each other’s faces off on the banks of the Seine.
But I think Paris is vanishing, if it’s not already vanished. The whole city has the feel of a theme park. The people conform so perfectly to stereotype that they appear to believe the hype of their own city. The sight of a man who considers himself hetrosexual roller-blading along with every indication of enjoyment is a sure sign of a culture in decline.
And food and wine? Where is the best place to try good French food? Not France. The problem is that while Paris has been ossifying in a miasma of bitterness and dog shit, the rest of the world has surpassed it in terms of cuisine. Also, I hate to break it to the French, but you can get their cheeses in British supermarkets. When you dine it’s an experience, it’s not just about the food. Great service can rescue mediocre food, but great food can’t rescue bad service. Best place for French food? Corsica. The people are friendly (everyone is armed, so everyone is polite) and the food far surpasses anything available in Paris because it all comes from the island. The Brits may have Pot Noodle, but we also have young, enthusiastic cooks who are not afraid to try new stuff. Possibly you’d get strung up for this in a Parisian café. Now, a British café, we’re not scared to try and in introduce salad. As a garnish.
1 Comments:
We have a layover there on the way to and from Africa...I figure on the way back we'll fit right in--being that we won't have properly bathed in a while and my armpits will be hairy. I may even start smoking for a couple of hours just so no one bothers me at the airport in Paris.
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