The Silver Net on the French Ministry of Culture

I’m sure you’ve noticed this building across the road from the Louvre on the corner of Rue Saint Honoré and Rue Croix des Petits Champs, just down the road from Café Louise, and wondered what it is. Well, it’s the Ministry of Culture and Communication and I’m sure you’ll believe me when I tell you it’s based on an Italian Renaissance painting by Guilio Romano depicting the Palazzo Te in Mantua. I recognised it straight away as well. Well, I’m sure I would have if I’d known the painting in question. It’s so distinctly Renaissance.

It’s called “Résille argentée” (The Silver Net) and is by the architect Francis Soler. It covers two very different buildings, one designed by Georges Vaudoyer in 1919 and the other by Olivier Lahalle in 1960 and is designed to give them unity. According to Soler he deformed the people in Romano’s  painting by computer until they “dissolved into arabesques”.  Ah ha, now you know. The beauty of it is apparently that when you’re inside, the résille doesn’t stop you seeing outside but stops anyone else seeing in.

To quote Soler  in February 2005:

“The résille, entirely made of laser-cut stainless steel sheets, envelops all the urban and peri-urban façades of the project. It is both light and intrusive but never unwieldy. The way we perceive it changes according to visible, often contradictory values – shininess and dullness, delicacy and depth, fine chiselling and hazy contours, figuration and abstraction. It is both body guard and confidential. It is both armour and coat of mail, protecting the minstry from unwanted intrusion and contributing, by its proximity, to creating indescribable spaces that give the impression, once you’re inside, that you’re there and nowhere else”.

You gotta give it to him – he knows how to say it! I could never come up with that – it’s hard enough translating it! Then he explains about the light:

“All the light that penetrates the buildings is carved up and shaped by the résille on the façade. It strikes the resin floor whose hazel colour makes it look like sand. The resin surface layer, which is both transparent and uniform, encourages reflection [he’s just saying it’s smooth and shiny] and sends the light along the entire length of the covered walkways with their raspberry-coloured runners.” I wonder if they’ll let me visit?

Source: http://archeologue.over-blog.com/article-15767864.html

Holly and Mistletoe

I know it’s supposed to be holly and ivy though I don’t know why because most of the ivy – well, the Viriginia creeper anyway – loses its leaves around here in winter. Our holly and mistletoe come from Normandy. We had a lot of problems finding holly with red berries this time but the mistletoe, which is a parasite of course, had grown lower on the apple trees so Relationnel didn’t have to stretch his arms as much!

Photo by Black Cat

When I was a child, we used to buy real holly (houx) from David Jones at Christmas time but I’d never seen mistletoe (gui) until I came to France and discovered that it grows in large bunches that are particularly obvious when the host tree loses its leaves.

The only problem with mistletoe is that its sticky little white berries keep falling off so I’m keeping the New Year branch we’re supposed to kiss under in a bag until the day. Relationnel is on call this year so we won’t be able to join the throngs on New Year’s Eve on the Pont des Arts which has a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower which shimmers and shakes at midnight. We can actually see it from our window but last year low cloud obscured it, which was very sad. I had to use my watch to check the time.

 

I’m starting to think about our New Year’s Eve feast for two, particularly as it could be interrupted any time if Relationnel is called out. One year we made this terribly complicated capon dish that I got out of “Simply French” by Patricia Wells, but considering the hours it took to make, I found the result very disappointing. So now I make much simpler recipes such as pan-fried foie gras and verrines with lots of interesting bits and pieces that I can vary according to whim and the ingredients I have at home. Far more satisfying.

Verrines – from verre meaning glass and modelled on the word terrine which comes from terre or clay – are shot glasses in various shapes and sizes that have become very popular in France over the last few years for serving individual starters and desserts. I love making them because you can be very inventive and they can be prepared ahead of time. The idea is to have different layers and colours so that they look attractive from the outside.

At Christmas we had two verrines for starters: slices of sea scallops alternating with beds of leeks and eggplant purée topped with ricotta and walnuts; and two for dessert: pannacotta on a layer of coffee jelly topped with crumbled brown sugar biscuits from Belgium called speculoos and slightly cooked pear pieces alternating with fromage blanc and candied ginger. Since I had only taken along two sets of verrines, I used ordinary glasses for the desserts.

Now I wonder what I’ll put in them this year?

Two Types of Luxury in Paris

I just went to Place Vendôme, not to buy Dior perfume (not my scene) or Mikimoto pearls (I already have a double string, inherited from my mother) or a Boucheron watch (I’d be too scared of losing it) or even to have tea at the Ritz (it’s closed for renovation). I was amazed at how many people were milling around. I guess there are a lot of rich foreigners between Christmas and New Year.

I’m not sure I really like the decorations – I guess they’re supposed to represent reindeer’s antlers. Do you know, the word for antlers in French is “bois” which means “wood”. Seems a little mundane for such striking appendages, doesn’t it? Place Vendôme, of course, has one of Paris’ many phallic symbols, the Vendôme Column, erected in 1810 as a imitation of the Trajan Column in Rome, with a statue of the Emperor Napoleon on top. I’m sure you know some of the city’s other phallic symbols – the Eiffel Tower, the Obelisk at Place de la Concorde, the Montparnasse Tower and all those Buren columns in the Palais Royal. Then there’s Mitterand’s contribution, of course, the Library of France, which has no less than four columns!

Epicerie Fine Tetrel

After leaving Place Vendôme, I came home via Rue des Petits Champs (not to be confused with nearby Rue Croix de Petits Champs) and went past another bastion of luxury, but on a much smaller scale – Epicerie Tétrel, at n° 44 -known for its fine chocolates and luxury preserves. When we first moved to the area in 2005 (I think), the lady who ran it looked as though she was nearing 90 and would pick the chocolates up with her fingers! None of this modern hygiene stuff for her.

I was appalled, but Relationnel said they really were the best chocolates around. About a year ago, her daughter took over (she uses plastic gloves) and is just as unfriendly, but the inside of the shop is a real treat. It’s like stepping back in time. I was told grumpily that I couldn’t take photos of the inside but the outside window gives an idea of what you’ll find. It’s full of traditional products such as tinned sardines, sweets, candied fruits, biscuits of every shape and size. A most original place for presents!

Flowers to Brighten a Grey Day

I’ve been receiving all these emails from Australian family and friends positively flaunting their blue skies and high temperatures while we have boring nothing, not even snow or sleet or something even vaguely interesting. The fountain in the Palais Royal is working, to my surprise – they turned it off most of last winter – but looks very down in the mouth. It’s 8°C and cold outside because the air is thick. My wonderful rabbit-lined gloves somehow disappeared in an underground parking lot in Rouen and I can’t order any more from Madova in Italy until 3rd January so I’m wearing my inferior suede Australian ones. At least they’re better than nothing.

But something wonderful has happened to take the grey away. The doorbell just rang and there was man with a beautiful bunch of white roses, lilies-of-the-valley and Geraldton wax all the way from Leonardo in Australia, with a lovely note to go with them. Not only that but one of the orchids he gave me for my birthday has flowered again!

No Boxing Day in France

Unfortunately, there is no Boxing Day in France. We had to pack up everything in Normandy and leave last night which was very sad. I couldn’t believe how much stuff we’d acquired in just over a week! There were all the Christmas decorations for the tree and crib and table of course plus the holly from the forest and mistletoe from the apple trees. But we also went to two other dépôt vente places and came away with all sorts of wonderful things for the new house in Blois, including a lovely old 5-branch ceiling light that Relationnel managed to drop when putting it into the car for the return journey – fortunately it didn’t shatter and the crack shouldn’t be too noticeable when it’s attached to the ceiling. We didn’t buy the Australian guitar or the aggressive GI!

When we got home to our apartment in Paris,  it all had to be unpacked of course which was complicated by the fact that the bedroom ceiling had been repainted during our absence. A few months ago, large drops of water suddenly started to appear on the ceiling above the bed. Apparently, the gutters on the terrace of the flat above us were blocked up. By the time they were unblocked, the paint was peeling off in large flakes. So all the bedroom furniture was in the lounge and we couldn’t put it back until we got the curtains back from the dry cleaners today.

Gathering holly

To console ourselves, we finished off our home made foie gras that turned out to be the best we’ve made yet (must have been because I dropped the iPhone in it during the process) accompanied by the delicious compote de fruits vieux garçon (bachelor’s fruit compote) we made on Saturday (recipe below – requires expertise in making caramel which I do not have but that fortunately Relationnel does) and the rest of the Pierre Adam Kaefferdopf gewurztraminer 2006. There were even a few slices of pain brioché au miel left to go with it.  Followed by smoked salmon, lychees and Rozan chocolates with our coffee. A nice way to end off Christmas day.

My scales told me this morning that we’ll be eating grilled fish and chicken and steamed vegetables for the rest of the week … in preparation for New Year!

Compote de fruits vieux garçon 
 
Ingredients : 1 apple, 1 pear, 6 dried abricots, 6 prunes, 6 cl of port wine, 80 g of honey. 
 
Peel the apple and pear and cut them into 1 cm squares. Chop the dried fruit into 5 mm pieces and soak in the port wine. The recipe doesn’t say for how long but it was probably about 20 to 30 minutes because I was using the only large saucepan for something else. 
Put the honey in a large saucepan and caramelise. You have to use fairly high heat. Quite suddenly, it all froths up and this is where the expertise comes in. If you cook it too much it burns. The trick is to squeeze in some lemon juice at just the right moment to reduce the heat and stop the caramelising process. I did the squeezing. Relationnel said when. 
Then you add the apple and pear and cook for 3 minutes followed by the dried fruit and port. You let them stew for at least 20 minutes at moderate heat, stirring often to prevent sticking. 
You can keep it for a week in the fridge.

Christmas Tree’s Up!

When I was a child in Townsville, our Christmas tree was an athel pine. Well, I think it was anyway. You certainly couldn’t buy fir trees or go out and cut them down in the forest as Relationnel and his father did when he was little. After a while, my mother got sick of all the mess from the athel pine and decided, to our great dismay, to buy an awful looking imitation tree. It was also tiny.

So when I had my own children in France, we used to buy a real fir tree until the first year I spent Christmas on my own after my divorce. I had decided not to have a tree that year but felt so miserable on Christmas Eve without my kids or a tree that I went to the local hypermarket and bought a pretend one. These days, they are far more realistic than the one Mum bought. Black Cat and Leonard were not impressed though.

When we started coming to Le Mesnil Jourdain for Christmas, there were no more excuses for not buying the real thing. First, there is always a vendor in Louviers, second, they sell Nordman trees that don’t lose their needles and third, there is plenty of room for a big one. Last year, it snowed so much that we nearly missed out because we were housebound for two days. By the time we got back to Louviers, the vendor had packed up and gone. Fortunately the flower shop in the main street still had some left. This year, it was the first thing we did when we got here. I love the system. First, you choose your tree, then they put it through a Christmas tree packaging machine and it comes out the other end in netting so that it’s easier to transport.

Black Cat is coming this afternoon so we’ll decorate the tree together. The male element (as my father used to say) likes the idea of the tree but are not even remotely interested in decorating it. All our decorations have a story, starting with the oldest, two little Chinese lanterns a friend brought back from Hong Kong when I was in high school and that I kept safely until I had my own tree. Several of the decorations were made by Leonardo who is an origami expert and one by Forge Ahead when he was little. All the others come from our travels.

We try to bring back something for the tree from each place we visit. We began in Rottenburg in Germany after we discovered the wonderful Käthe Wohlfahrt Christmas store. I could have bought the whole shop! The decorations are absolutely fabulous. Our latest acquisitions are a flamenco shoe from Seville, a traditional heart from Croatia, a pendant key ring from Bosnia Herzogovina and a violin from Innsbruck in Austria. We seem to have forgotten about Slovenia! Black Cat also adds to the collection whenever she can. This year she brought us back a lovely hand-painted bauble from Sweden. Friends who know about it contribute as well – we now have a little plaque depicting the French quarter in New Orleans.

My favourites are two baubles from the decorative arts museum next to the Louvre, the one Black Cat brought back from Saint Paul’s in London, the beautiful ruched egg a friend made me, Leonardo’s origami unicorn, Thoughtful’s king on a reindeer and the crib inside a glass bauble.

 

 

 

It’s a good thing we’ve bought a house of our own in Blois – we’ll need a truck to transport everything soon!

A Country Market in Normandy

We always go to the market in Le Neubourg in Normandy on the Wednesday before Christmas. Definitely not a tourist venue, but it’s a real country market with lots of little old ladies selling what they can spare from their gardens, such as chestnuts, eggs, leeks, carrots and even holly with red berries (that’s why I can’t find any in the forests – they’ve taken it all). There are vendors you only find on local markets selling blouses (a sort of house coat that country housewives of the older generation still wear over their regular clothing), charentaises (those awful checked carpet slippers), rubber boots (because it rains so much), flannel nightdresses buttoned up to the neck, handkerchiefs and other things you can’t buy in Monoprix any more.

Then there are the local specialities such as onion-flavoured black pudding from the charcuterie and Norman high-fat cheeses such as the well-known round camembert, the square-shaped pont l’évèque, the heart-shaped neufchatel, the strong-smelling livarot that I won’t let Relationnel buy any more and the very delicious excessively creamy brillat-savarin that I don’t let myself buy because of how quickly it seems to disappear!

We also like to buy our favourite “spéciales” oysters from Normandy but this year, for some unknown reason, there wasn’t a single oyster vendor on the whole market! So instead we bought 4 kilos of coquilles Saint Jacques (the large sea scallops they fish off the Norman coast which I love), a real bargain at 22 euros! They opened them all in record time, joking among themselves the whole time, despite the cold and steady drizzle! Last year, they were just as cheery in the snow.

There isn’t only food and little old ladies’ clothing of course. You can buy the latest fashion, including jeans and demin jackets, stretch pants and boots and these gorgeous little hats! I tried a couple on in the hope of keeping my ears warm without having to wear my hood all the time but I look absolutely ghastly, not anything like these cut little models!

But what I like best is the live poultry. An amazing variety of hens and ducks (including wild mallards), capons, turkeys, guinea fowl and geese. I felt rather sorry for them, knowing that they’d soon be in the pot, particularly since we’ll be having côte de boeuf cooked in the open hearth! I won’t mention the foie gras …

Rouen in the Rain

Le Mesnil Jourdain with Le Logis du Porche & church

One of the sad things about Normandy is that it rains a lot. For the last four years, we’ve had snow at Christmas with particularly heavy falls last year. This year, however, it’s not cold enough so we’ve got rain instead.

This is the fifth Christmas we’ve spent in this lovely mediaeval manor house in Le Mesnil Jourdain. The main buildings form an L-shape. “Our” house, Le Logis du Porche, was built in the 15th century while the owners, Valérie and Marc Jonquez, live in the 16th century wing. Le Logis de la Garenne on the other side of the courtyard was built during the reign of Louis XIII in the 17th century up against a mediaeval motte. That, in case you don’t know, is the artificial mound on which theNormans used to build their keeps. Today it’s home to a herd of goats. There is a beautiful vaulted ceiling on the ground floor.

16C wing

But we prefer the Logis du Porche for its huge brick fireplace, large bay window with its original grille and stone seats where the ladies used to sit with their embroidery and watch the world go by in the courtyard below, its original timbered ceiling and lovely oak panelled door. The stone walls are as thick as the length of your arm and there’s even an arrow slit! That’s on the main floor. Upstairs, one of the bedrooms has a massive low timber door with a peak hole and traces of oil lamps on the walls while one of the others has an enormous fireplace where they used to hang the meat and an original mullion window.

La Garenne

Valérie et Marc have done a wonderful job of restoring and decorating both houses, combining modern comfort with the historical charm and authenticity we love.  It was Le Mesnil Jourdain that inspired us to buy the house in Blois. Our four children usually join us for Christmas, but this year, with Leonardo in Sydney and Forge Ahead in Madagascar, there will only be four of us. We’re waiting until Black Cat arrives to decorate the tree and put up the crib. But more of that in another post.

Joan of Arc's tears

Back to rainy Rouen. One of our pilgrimages is always to Auzou’s in the main street where they sell Joan of Arc’s tears – chocolate-coated almonds! I actually prefer Rozans des Pyrénées, melt-in-the-mouth chocolates that traditionally are only made in the Pyrenees in winter and that you can only usually find at Christmas. You have to keep them in the fridge. But the other members of the family prefer praline chocolates except for Black Cat who has never liked chocolates. When she was growing up in a country of chocolate freaks, she was so embarrassed about it that she used to tell everyone that “my mother won’t let me eat chocolates.”

Rouen cathedral with Christmas market

I like doing our Christmas shopping in Rouen because the historical centre is very attractive with its half-timbered houses and enormous clock tower spanning the main street. The cathedral, made famous by Monet, is always worth a visit as well. We usually have lunch at the art deco Brasserie Paul on one side of the cathedral. It’s in all the guide books so it very popular, but we still enjoy it. At 14 or 15 euros for the main dish, it’s also good value for money. It also sells real cappuccino (as opposed to the usual Norman “all-cream” version if you prefer a mid-morning or mid-afternoon break instead. Maybe next time, it won’t be raining!

Le Mesnil Jourdain
Valérie et Marc JONCQUEZ
5 rue de l’église
27400 LE MESNIL JOURDAIN
v.joncquez@gmail.com
http://www.rent-gite-normandie.com/
 
 
Brasserie Paul
1 place de la Cathédrale
76000 Rouen
http://www.brasserie-paul.com/index.php
 
 
Chocolateire Auzou
163, rue du Gros Horloge
76000 Rouen
France
 

Santa Climbing up the Wall

I love the Christmas decorations on individual homes in the French countryside. It’s amazing how many Santa Clauses (père noël) you see climbing up the walls! I don’t know how they explain it to the kids. Apart from the Father Christmas in David Jones, I don’t remember ever seeing any others. We would dutifully leave out our milk and biscuits and I even went to sleep on the floor of my parents’ room once because I’d left something off my wish list but I didn’t get to see him after all.

My mother used to play Santa Claus for my youngest brother on Christmas Day. Dad certainly wouldn’t have done anything as undignified! She wore a pair of men’s pyjamas that she’d dyed red and ho! ho! hoed! around. She realised it was time to stop though when my brother whispered to her “Mum, your fly’s undone!”

In his sleigh this time

Leonardo came home from school when he was in first grade and said, “You know, the teacher and I are the only ones who believe in Santa Claus. Pity for the others!” He thought it was like god – there were believers and non-believers and obviously the stakes were much higher for Father Christmas.

I didn’t perpetrate the photo with Santa Claus tradition for my children though I do have one taken in Townsville one time we were in Australia for Christmas but I love getting the ones from my brother with his three little boys.

I don’t know how they explain this one – if you look closely, you’ll see two Santa Clauses! Maybe it’s a race.

And I think the next photo is the best of them all. This time, Père Noël is climbing up the town hall in Port Mort (Dead Port!). I’ve been trying to imagine what sort of presents the town councillors are expecting! May a new name for the town.

Je chine, tu chines, nous chinons

There’s actually a verb in French – chiner – for poking around in junk and antique shops looking for treasures! Now that we have a house in view, we’ve started doing the rounds of “brocantes”, “dépôts ventes” and “antiquaires” though I think we might have to give the last one a miss because of the high prices. A “brocante”, Relationnel tells me, is always out of town and everything is just piled higgledy-piggedly and you have to really root around. The “dépôt vente” is a place to which you take something you want to sell i.e. you “deposit” it, and the seller takes a commission. The prices are usually very reasonable, particularly for large items of furniture that are too big for most apartments and houses. We went to one in Nogent sur Marne last weekend and saw lots of things that would be great for the new house, once they’ve been spruced up a little, but we don’t have anywhere to store them. Antique shops, on the other hand, particularly in Normandy where we’re staying until Christmas, are more upmarket. 

At the moment, we’re looking for plaques de cheminée (firebacks), chenêts (fire dogs, isn’t that a neat name?) and other sundry utensils for the four fireplaces in our new house in Blois, only three of which we’ll be using. The other’s in the bedroom, which would be a bit messy because of the carpet. We all ready have one set of utensils that we have bought over the years to take with us in winter when we rent houses with fireplaces because they aren’t usually properly equipped. It seems that people get off with the pokers and tongs and break the belows. So we have our own pair of bellows, a shovel, brush, poker, large rake affair and a meat grill. We also have a chestnut pan (with holes in the bottom). 

The only problem with this type of activity in winter is that the places are never heated. I was positively frozen through after the third one. So we’ve decided to change tactics. There is a website called “Le Bon Coin” (The Right Corner) that Relationnel has been checking out. It even has an iPhone app! So we looked up plaque de cheminée and came up with a long list. We ruled out the ones that said “à débattre” which I always thought meant the seller was ready to knock the price down but it seems that it actually means they sell to the highest taker. We finally narrowed our choice down to three. The first was already sold, the second wasn’t answering so we left a message and the third said someone else had already contacted him and it would be “first in first served”. He was 50 minutes away, on the other side of Rouen. 

We put the firescreen in front of the fire, put our shoes and coats on and arrived on his doorstep 50 minutes later. The other buyer didn’t have a chance. Relationnel told me he had spoken to a “couple in their thirties”, but the man who opened the door was a spry 70! He took us down to a lean-to at the bottom of the garden and there was the fireback, a pair of firedogs, a log-holder (no doubt there’s a real name in English) and a firescreen. It seems they used to have a fireplace but something happened to it and they got a wood stove instead. He bought the fireback in 1976 from a foundry in Cousances that dates back to 1553 and uses traditional designs. We actually have a “certificate of authenticity” and our fireback is numbered!

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