Me And The Clouds Of My Breath
It's Christmas time in Paris and I love it. The 3 Euro ($4) lobsters are back in their long tubes in the frozen section of my local Franprix, bringing back memories of last year's New Years feast. I've already had one of them steamed in a mushroom-filled Asian broth. It did wonders for my nasty cold. I plan to have many more before the season ends.
The blue lights have been strung between the buildings across rue Poteau, and late the other night, as I walked home from the Metro in the drizzling rain, I was mesmerized by the reflections of those blue lights on the wet pavement. The corner that I was standing on, with my back towards Jules Joffrin Metro station and the Mairie or town hall of the 18th arondissement, and my scarved and corduroy-hatted front facing down rue Poteau, is usually bustling with people. When the cafe to my right is open, it has an outdoor seafood station full of oysters, and even in the cold weather, people are sitting at little tables, smoking their recently-banned cigarettes, sipping a glass of Sancerre or Rosé or a hot Cafe Creme, and enjoying freshly-shucked oysters. But on this late night, I was the only one there, just me and the clouds of my breath stirring the silence. I took some pictures so that you could enjoy this moment too.
The first photo is looking down rue Poteau. The second photo shows the golden reflection of light on the pavement, with just a little hint of a blue reflection too. The third photo is after I walked a little ways down rue Poteau until I came to rue Letort, where they have strung some blue lights on the trees in front of Cafe Reinitas, a great place to sit outside and watch people go by as they shop in the outdoor market on Wednesdays and Sundays. The fourth photo is standing at the same place, but looking down rue Letort.
A couple of weekends ago, during the Beaujolais Nouveau celebration, they closed one whole section of Poteau so that wine, cheese, bread, fois gras and other vendors could set up shop. I came home early one evening from an appointment and discovered the street market and called a friend so we could walk along and gaze at the gorgeous food. At an olive stand, where they also had huge bowls of tapenades, the vendor handed me a hunk of crusty bread covered with sun dried tomato tapenade and it melted in my mouth. He encouraged me to taste a pickled gralic clove and I thought it would be too strong, but it was incredibly mild and delicious. I told him I'd be back to buy some but never made it back, and now I wish I had. I wish I'd bought a gallon!
I took some pictures that evening too, although they're a bit overexposed. This one works though:
It started to get a little too cold and windy, so we bought a warm baguette and I splurged on a beautiful Rosé, bought directly from the wine maker. As the vendors in their stalls began putting away their wares for the night, we hurried back to my warm apartment to break the bread and sip the wine.
