New York in Paris

February 2, 2012

As I’m getting to know Paris more intimately and discovering it’s characteristic neighborhoods, each a small village in its own right, I think of how we come to identify with our hood (as the New Yorker would say it) or arrondissement to the Parisiens. The city is made up of 20 arrondissements, as decided by Napoleon III in 1860. Where you are on the map is evident when you glance up at the street signs and find a number ranging from 1 to 20. (Still easy to get lost, trust me!)

Much like in New York where one of the first questions asked ‘Where do you live?’ can create an instant bond, Paris too forms identities via neighborhoods. When I came across this map created by artist Vahran Muratyan of Paris versus New York, I couldn’t help but to think of how well these two cities compliment one another. From someone who shares my sentiments, “When I’m in Paris, I miss New York, and when I’m in New York, I miss Paris. It’s really impossible to choose.”

Even though I lived in the Lower East Side, via Paris I managed to find my way to the West Village bordering SOHO, my two favorite neighborhoods. Yes, I can attest to the accuracy of this map!

Fellow New Yorkers in Paris (and those still to arrive) where do you call home? In NYC and in Paris.

art of the macaron

January 28, 2012

As the debate continues between which side of Paris reigns supreme, rive droite or rive gauche, so too does the question of ‘who makes the best macaron?’. The Paris pâtissier preference most often between the two macaron greats: Ladurée and Pierre Hermé. Who do I prefer? That is a matter of macaron, as each chef certainly does excel in particular flavors. I had quickly become a macaron fanatic upon moving to Paris and upon several dozen tastings, had accepted to adore (and indulge) in both. What I was really after was how exactly do you make these tiny tastes of heaven?

And so last Saturday my curiosity in the art of the macaron was satisfied. I signed up for a class at the reputable cooking school La Cuisine Paris, et voilà! There I was ready to take on the challenge, filled with eager bakers (including my sweet confidant Delphine) and our pastry chef, trained with none other than Pierre Hermé himself.

With nary a moment to admire the glorious view of the Seine, we split into teams and got right to work. Sifting, measuring, mixing, boiling… Once in a while I did peek outside reminded that I was indeed in the heart of Paris learning to make the city’s most prized delicacy.

Our next step, and perhaps my favorite of all once I learned the technique, was actually making the perfectly round, just the right size, macaron shells. Not as easy as it looks!

Once the shells were formed and baked to perfection, each one was paired with it’s matching half.

From that point on it was all about filling our candy colored shells. The filling which I could have easily inhaled by the spoonful. We had made two very distinct and rich flavors, white chocolate mixed with a touch of espelette, a type of French chili pepper, and a classic praline. Délicieux!

And there they were. Our macaron masterpieces! Ready to be cooled and savoured, ideally the following day. I felt accomplished and though no easy task, I was even eager to try this at home. But until then, I will never again question the price of pleasure when it comes to the macaron.

La Cuisine Paris offers year-round macaron classes in both English and French as well as many other sweet and savory culinary adventures. I’m already looking forward to the next one…

If you live in Paris (or will be in town on February 10th) enter to win a free macaron class! Winners selected on January 31st. Bonne chance!

soul of New York

January 24, 2012

Anyone who knows me, is well aware that New York City resides deeply within my heart. Much like a first love that will forever be revered. Several months ago, via my blogging journey, I met a fellow New Yorker with a similar sentiment towards the city that doesn’t sleep. Phil Vasquez is a writer and filmmaker from Canada, inspired by classic and foreign films and American and French popular music songbooks, everything from Cole Porter to Charles Aznavour. He has resided for many years in NYC and soon… Paris. I quickly discovered that Phil possesses a unique sensitivity and depth that was revealed in his short film, Song of Relations, a beautiful tribute to the soul of old New York City.

Nested in nests of water bays. Superb, rich.
Hemm’d thick all round with sail ships and steam ships.
An island, 16 miles long, solid founded.
Numberless crowded streets. High growths of iron. Slender, strong, light.
Splendidly uprising toward clear skies.
The countless masts. The white shore steamers. The lighters. The ferry-boats.
The downtown streets. The houses of business of the ship merchants and money brokers.
The river streets.
City of hurried and sparkling waters, city of spires and masts.
City nested in bays. My city.
– Walt Whitman

I look forward to following Phil’s journey from New York to Paris, a city he and his wife plan to call home, where he will absorb the culture and no doubt make authentic French films with an American independent production style. And where his unique vision will continue.

To view his film and learn more about this writer & filmmaker in the making: www.tpapictures.com

Also be sure to join Phil Vasquez on facebook and connect on twitter.

walk of life

January 19, 2012

When I discovered that the travel site Trippando along with Travel – Moments in Time was hosting a contest on the topic of ‘beaches’, I couldn’t resist. Not simply because I love to write about travel and have walked many a beach in my life, but because the grand prize is a stay at Elba Island’s fabulous Acacie resort. Another beach I hope to explore!

Walk of Life

I grew up on the vast sandy stretches of the Hamptons, the South Fork of Long Island, New York. These beaches became my home. Often I would stare at the sea and dream of the infinity that lay beyond. Perhaps within this infinity lay my future, and I tried to catch a glimpse. And always, I would walk.

The years passed and my walk continued. Year after year upon the same calming shores. With the sands at my feet and the whispers of the ocean my solace, I knew this was my place. And yet.

It was not until I left those shores for others much less familiar and comforting that life began to reveal itself. Perhaps the whispers had provoked my fate, knowing better than I that my walk was longer than the sands of only one beach. And so I continued, barefoot and curious, upon the shores of Brazil’s remote Fernando de Naronha, Bali’s kaleidoscopic sands, Thailand’s multifarious banks, Australia’s rugged paradise, Mexico’s tropical landscape, into Italy’s dramatic coastline.

Fernando de Naronha, Brazil

Monterosso al Mare, Italy

My walk led me from one beach to another. Each more intriguing and revealing than the last. The whispers continued, and I embraced their varied tones.

Tulum, Mexico

I returned to my beach. The one I once called home. And again. But this time I was not alone. A set of footsteps, slightly larger than my own, found their way alongside mine. My walk of life continued, in the same place it had started. The whispers now, were our own.

Westhampton Beach

Since then my walk has led me to the enchanting shores of Corsica and the Greek Isles. As life evolves the walk continues, to beaches yet to be discovered.

Barca by night

January 13, 2012

Walking around Barcelona during the day is an experience in architecture, namely Gaudí, but by night the city takes on quite a different persona, particularly in the neighborhoods we chose to explore, El Born and Barrio Gotico. Bars and shops would close in the night (as well as much of the early afternoon) and the streets were filled with metal doors often advertising what lies on the other side. It felt as though we were walking through an outdoor gallery only visible to the night crawlers.

Just the right mix of shabby and chic.

Would I buy fruits and vegetables here?

I can only imagine what’s for sale behind these doors…

Pasta anyone?

My adventurous side is intrigued.

Next time I will return during open hours to discover the truth behind these doors.

New Year with Gaudí

January 7, 2012

Following a memorable traditional family Christmas spent on the Italian Riviera between Monterosso and Levanto, it was time for a new adventure. I had last been to Spain many university years ago and was eager to become reacquainted with Barcelona. Almost immediately we were greeted by Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí, considered by some a genius and by others a lunatic. Perhaps a mix of the two? For those 6 days we experienced Love in the City of Gaudí.