Thanks to my cousin Erica who recommended a visit to the Louis Vuitton Foundation, located in a dramatic Frank Gehry building (are there any Gehry buildings that aren’t dramatic? But this was the first one I’ve visited where you could walk outside on the terraces of its various unconventional levels.Maybe his Bilbao museum has this?
The building wasn’t the only draw. There is a gorgeous retrospective of Joan Mitchel’s work and a particularly wonderful show of Mitchell’s work placed beside the work of Monet, who died the year Mitchell was born but whose work inspired her. It’s amazing to see their canvases beside each other. The guards were also, particularly dapper, in well- tailored dark suits. Louis Vutton perhaps?
King Kong Kusama-style
Strolling along the Champs Elysee on a drizzly (but not cold or unwalkable ) day, we found a Yayoi Kusama installation that captured in a hug the Louis Vuitton store, ala King Kong but far less menacing, more playful.
At Louis Vuitton foundation
Our dear friend Francine took the Eurostar over for a quick overnight visit from London and joined us at the foundation and later adventures, most having to do with food.
I arrived in Paris with several carefully considered restaurant reservations, which are necessary even now, during the off season. But then came an incredible list of restaurant recommendations from American friends who have lived here for many years. I made a few additions and replacements.
So far, one of my picks (after copious research) is a favorite: Mokonuts, a tiny place in the Bastille neighborhood that doesn’t serve dinner. So glad I decided to book a lunch there. We watched a steady stream of people enter without reservations and get turned away. It only serves Lunch but with dinner-like offerings and prices. There were only two mains swordfish and veal, both excellently cooked, seasoned, sauced and presented. The ‘clam chowder” was more of a clam stew, with a thin broth, small pieces of ham, little clams in their shells. The food was served on rough hewn ceramics, not the typical bistrot white plates. But just as meticulous in its care and delivery of food.
Comme chez Maman sur Rue DesMoines
We have also eaten at 3 bistrots our friends suggested, all excellent and Comme Chez Maman turned out to be on rue Des Moines , which the host confirms means “the monks” not “the mounds” as some think. He seemed more confused than impressed that we were from Des Moines, Iowa (or used to be.) Dinner, especially the meat mains (steak, duck) and pork belly appetizer, was excellent at Le Pantruche in the Pigalle. We also enjoyed Bistrot D’Yves near us in the 17th arrondissement where the filet mignonette was pork not beef and delicious.
Outside Mokonuts
11th arrondissment Comme Chez Maman – this is a bistro with a Belgian chef; it was also awarded a Michelin “little red man” and is very popular and is open throughout the weekend. …a very warm welcome and lively ambience.
Mokonuts with Francine
9th A Le Pantruche – Small, old-fashioned Paris décor, simply wonderful food, great service. It is very popular. (has a wonderful Soufflé Grand Marnier and you should definitely order it–you just have to request it at the beginning of meal.
Here are three special occasion places our friends described :
(1) Restaurant H. 13 Rue Jean Beausire, 75004 Paris; 01 43 48 80 96. more expensive than the Bistros listed…had the five course meal this week and the chef did more things with root vegetables than I would have thought possible…recommend the 7 course one mostly for the sheer adventure of it. …The five course meal (they are small courses) was 60 euros
(2) Petrelle: It is a really romantic restaurant and has a fixed menu, …food is light, but since you have five courses, you leave feeling you have had enough but not too much.
(3 if you like Japanese food) is Enyaa.37 Rue de Montpensier, 75001 Paris . +33-.(0) 1 40 26 78 25 It’s on an oddly empty alley just in back of the Palais Royale but you step inside and it seems very Japanese. The waiters and waitresses do not speak much if any French. They speak Japanese and a bit of English.
We feel especially fortunate to have all made it to Paris, given that there was a major aviation mess-up in the states that began just hours after Lily and Noah took to the air. Almost 7,000 flights delayed. But by midday we were all here and acclimating to our charming bohemian/classy Airbnb in the 16th arrondissement near the arc de triumph, offelegant Avenue Foch (where the likes of Aristotle Onassis lived. Now there are several embassies.)
Birthday girl
We are on narrow Rue le sueur (reminds me of the name of canned baby peas) on the fourth floor of one of the many famous Hausmanian buildings in this part of the city, lining the grand boulevards and backstreets. Hausman was sort of the Robert Moses of Paris, clearing old narrow twisty streets and creating wide boulevards lined with elegant crème-colored mansions. Our Airbnb has lovely faded-elegance touches — a curving staircase with wood banister (and a tiny lift, handy for suitcases), decorative ceiling moldings and plasterwork around the fireplace, tall narrow French windows, heavy doors with giant brass nobs and ancient keys, creaky parquet floors, a narrow creaky wood planked hallway with doors leading to bedrooms and bathrooms (two are sans toilet, avec tub/shower; one tiny one with toilet, no tub/shower). And there are bohemian touches – lots of African and Caribbean textiles and art (a little colonial era whiff).
Our gracious host left us cheeses, a baguette and wine. Then my amazing old friend from our 1980s Wichita newspaper days Alissa, who lives nearby, insisted on bringing bags of her favorite foods – quiches, fresh orange juice, yoghurt in glass bottles, a big chunk of butter, clementines, cheese. Why does everything taste better here? (Ingredients, freshness, care of preparation, the water?)
Noah in the living room
She also showed around this neighborhood, which doesn’t have the enchanting narrow streets of the left bank, where we usually stay, more grand big boulevards, but no complaints. Alissa sent us to a great little neighborhood bistrot d’Yves last night, a 20 minute walk away. Yves knows what he’s doing: cleverbut not overly fussy food (we didn’t know fillet mignon could be pork, not beef) , thoughtful attentive service, all tables occupied on a Wednesday in January. We are supposed to get rain at some point but good temps, high 40s, low 50#, and even sun when we arrived.
Very nice of our old friends M & C to up and move from New York to Madrid, where they first met as young children living here with their respective families. Decades later, they are living for several months in the lovely Retiro neighborhood in a 1970’s-era apartment building on the 13th floor with superb views of the city.
Escorial, with dogs, mountains and rainbow
We had an uneventful trip here on Aer Lingus with a brief layover in Dublin, delayed slightly by fog that has hung over the city. Yesterday we had time to stroll along a ramblas, of sorts, a brick pedestrian strip lined with a street with cars on either side. Families, couples, singles, young, old people all strolling on a Saturday afternoon. Very civilized. m &C eat one big meal a day, a late lunch at around 3 p.m. Yesterday we went to a traditional local place, La Hoja (La Fueya) aka The Leaf that was packed with families. We shared big plates of sliced jamon, sliced cheese, grilled artichokes, and then entrees that were big plates of meat, game or fish (wild boar, pork) and then cider served through some ceramic contraption.
Segovia
Today we packed up the two white dogs (one who looks like our lab mix Millie ) and hit the road for a scenic drive to the lovely town of Escorial, famous for its 17th century monastery/palace, an imposing pile of stone at the edge of a wide plaza. IN the distance the fog rose from the mountains and the sun finally appeared, along with a rainbow lining the mountains like a dandy’s scarf. We strolled into the old city, with narrow lanes lined with lovely old buildings and small plazas, past whimsical Christmas decorations – large paper mache animals, including a cow giving birth and a donkey perched on a stone staircase , as if in mid step. We stopped at a little cafe for tapas – little plates of marinated anchovies, olives, cheese, sausage, an omelette/hash browns concoction.
Cider-serving contraption at La Hoya restaurant in Madrid, sucking cider out of the bottle and carbonizing it.
On to Segovia, a hilltop town with a spectacular Roman aqueduct, cathedral and castle. Isabella, the queen of Castille, was crowned in the cathedral in the 1400s. She dispatched Columbus on his expedition to the new world.) Lunch was at a famous old world place called mason de Candido, around since 1884, in a rambling old building with lots of carved wood, casement windows, painted murals and photos of local and world dignitaries. I didn’t realize until we finished lunch that I was sitting under a photo featuring Jimmy Carter. This seemed like the right place for sangria, grilled baby lamb (crispy on outside, succulent inside), potatoes.
Early January (at almost 2 pm) proved an easy time to get a table for lunch at The Stray Dog, which is usually packed during peak summer tourist season here in southwest Michigan. Cute place, decorated with dog pictures and dog commands (SIT, STAY), good service and well cooked burger.
Many restaurants are closed in early-to-mid January in these parts, including froelichs in Three Oaks. Viola’s was open but not at 2 pm. Fair enough.
We continue to enjoy visiting southwest Michigan and shopping/dining in the little village of Three Oaks. This time, we went to a concert in the intimate little Acorn Theater, next to the Journeyman whiskey distillery, which has also offers some rentals in town (see journeyman.com/lodging).
In the shopping department, we visited some new places including Bella Amici, which has fun Michigan stuff, and Mazet Antiques, which has gorgeous, one-of-a-kind and very pricey rugs from foreign lands (the kind you hand on your wall, not throw on your floor). We also visited old favorites including Alapash (where we did buy a less-expensive rug to throw on the floor) and had a good brunch at Froelich’s.
For future reference: The gas prices in southwest Michigan are significantly lower than in Chicago but our best bet was in northwest Indiana, off I-94, at exit 16, where we found gas for $2.99 ($1.50 less than in Chicago.)
When we heard (from our favorite private chef) that Wu’s Wonton King is the place professional chefs eat, we were there! We found it on an unglamorous corner in Chinatown/the Lower East Side on East Broadway and were not disappointed, although we probably should have asked what the house speciality, fried crab, cost ($84) before ordering it. Then again, if we had asked, we wouldn’t have ordered it and it was delicious. This will sound familiar to members of the $317 Club. (Inside joke explanation: years ago we got a surprise dinner bill of $317 after eating with friends at another Chinatown restaurant post-Thanksgiving.)
Our other entrees were in the $18 ballpark (which suddenly seemed like a bargain) and also excellent including the #1 wonton soup, stir fried chicken with veg, and pork dumplings. All very fresh, quality ingredients and well seasoned.
On to LaGuardia where we were delighted (not something I’ve ever written about LaGuardia) by the spanking new terminal C, all white walls, wide white corridors, clean modern design, appealing restaurants. And our delta flights were on what felt like new planes with well-upholstered seats and screens to watch TV and movies.
What a fantastic show at The Whitney: Edward Hopper’s decades of work when he lived in New York City during the first half of the 20th century. Among the paintings is an old friend, his famous Automat, which belongs to the Des Moines Art Center. As a docent at the art center, I loved showing and discussing Automat with visitors, especially the many fourth-graders I guided though the museum.
Seeing it in New York was like spotting an old friend at a crowded party. And seeing it surrounded by other evocative, melancholy New York landscapes and portraits by Hopper made me see it in a new way.
The Oyster BarAn old friend from DSM in NYC
Leaving the museum at 2:30 and very hungry, we found an excellent late lunch of Naples-style thin crust pizza and a salad of fresh greens at Simo, well-positioned across the street from The Whitney. (I gather we weren’t the first famished museum goers to chance upon the place.) Prompt cheerful service, casual dining room, delicious food. Another one is opening soon at Columbus Circle.
Lots of Hoppers
After walking up the High Line to 29th Street and then over to the annual holiday market at Union Square, we returned with our friend Myra to Grand Central Station where she took the train to and fro from Fairfield County. The Oyster Bar, a wonderful old gem in the bowels of the station, turned out to be another perfect dining spot for a light dinner of delicious fried oysters, fries, beer and a Manhattan. I hadn’t been there since about 1986 and hope to visit again …much sooner, next time.
Stuff happens and so it did when D unexpectedly injured his finger while trying to open an apartment window. Fortunately we found quick and excellent care on NYC’s upper east side from CityMD Urgent Care on 3rd Avenue and 67th St.
We arrived when the small storefront office opened at 8 a.m. and were third in line and seen promptly by about 8:07 a.m.
The patient post-medical care, carries on
Rather than an impersonal doc in a box, we found the staff, from the front desk folks to the PA to the MD, caring, professional, even fun to talk to. We talked Ukraine with the PA who, at age 14, left his native Crimea (formerly Ukraine, stolen by Russia in 2014). I talked Broadway musicals with the MD, who offered a mixed review of the latest cast of Funny Girl.
All this while they were examining, cleaning, X-raying, numbing, stitching up (just a few) and bandaging D’s finger. This is our fifth visit to a doctor while on vacation, over the past 30 years or so. Previous visits: In Estes Park, Colorado when our daughter had swimmers ear; Ireland when our other daughter had strep; Norway when I broke my arm and Vietnam, when I had swimmers ear. Not sure what our bill will be this time but the care was good…
Sag Harbor used to be the low-key outlier of Hamptons shopping. Or so I recall from the many thanksgivings past out here on the southeastern tip of Long Island.
Not anymore.
On the Saturday after turkey day, the shops on Sag Harbor’s small Main Street were packed with well heeled shoppers browsing in beautiful (and very expensive) home goods stores with suede furniture, exquisite ceramics, delicate linens, clever gizmos and knickknacks. Fun to browse. Not affordable to purchase.
Among the ones we liked: Modern General (where I did buy a $13 mug for my son that reads: Text your mother. This is the third store with that name I’ve been to this year. The first in Albuquerque; the second in Milwaukee.) the 1818 store (inside a lovely old home we are guessing was built circa 1818) and Comerford.
1818 shop
Gwyneth Paltrow’s “Goop” store is also somewhere near, but we didn’t chance upon it.
