My last meal in France

It was the morning of the day I would fly home. My flight was at 7pm. I planned for the taxi to pick me up at 3pm, to make sure I had ample time and then some, and wouldn't stress about it. I had two possible agendas. One was to go back to the Marais and buy some gloves and a scarf for Carolina, to thank her for wiring the money. The stores on Rue du Temple all seemed to be staffed, and likely owned, by people of Asian heritage. The merchandise was cheap, and certainly not French made. But they had some awfully nice designs, and I had euros to relinquish. Plan two was to go to Bouillon Julien, a restaurant a metro ride away. Bouillions are a kind of old fashioned restaurant that originally served inexpensive meals to workers. They are still quite inexpensive compared to typical French restaurants. I had previously been to Bouillion Chartier, which I had stumbled upon on a trip some years ago. It felt like going through a time warp. The tables were communal. The hall was large and high ceilinged. I took Loring there on a subsequent trip. He doesn't remember it, though. I decided to go to the restaurant first, and if I had time, or if they couldn't seat me, go to the shops in the Marais. It was Sunday, and I wasn't even sure the shops would be open. I had read about Bouillion Julien on this trip, and seen photos. In the entryway was an exqusite mosaic with two peacocks and the name of the restaurant. That alone was a motivation for me to visit. The interior looked beautiful, deco in style with pale greens predominating. I couldn't make a reservation but their site said they accepted walk ins. Someone had written that they went without restervation and had to wait, but it was worth it. They opened at 11:45, which is when I wanted to be there. I left home early, having packed first, and arrived at 11am. There was a roped area to line up in. I was the first one there. By 11:45 a few people had arrived behind me. And at promptly 11:45, they opened the door. There was only one line for those with and without reservations, so I wasn't sure how they would seat people. They asked me if I had a reservation, and if I was by myself. I was the first one seated, at a table right in front, at the window, so I could see the line get longer and longer as they seated people a party at a time. There was no reason for me to have arrived before 1145. No one came to serve me until the place was pretty much seated. That was okay. The menu was indeed inexpensive. There were entrees (which in French actually means appetizers) and plats, which are the main dishes, and desserts. And wines of course. On the list of plats the first item was Bouillion Julien. So I of course had to order that. Since it was listed as a main dish I assumed it would be a hearty broth. But when it came, it was quite thin, with small pieces of beef, and those tiny noodles that are just small pearls of pasta. What's more, it was lukewarm. I thought about sending it back, but it tasted good, and I didn't bother. The good thing is that it left me room for dessert. Which was delicious. It was an apricot almond tarte. While I was waiting for my meal, I walked around the restaurant and took pictures of the beautiful interior. The aisles were quite narrow, and I had trouble squeezing thru where a table had a bottle of wine beside it. I wonder if the food in general is mediocre, or I just ordered the wrong thing. And I wonder why the boullion was listed on the main dish part of the menu. In looking at online reviews I see both positive ones and ones that say the food is terrible. I would definitely go back on a subsequent visit, just to see if some of the other dishes were better. And to see the mosaic entry and the stunning interior again. The apricot tarte made me think of the deserts I had. My first was a raspberry tarte, my favorite. I had to resist ordering that every time I passed a patisserie. I think I had three over the course of my stay. Once I was buying a baguette in a boulangerie, which also had some pastries. I bought a kind of chocolate twist pastry and took it home. Then there was the chocolate meringue. It was a large ball covered with chocolate. I assumed the inside was all meringue. I generally don't like meringue, or macarons. But it looked so good. I was curious and had to try it. I actually liked it! The meringue was interspersed was a light foamy mousse. It was rich but light at the same time. Then there was the day with the gigantic chocolate banana almond whipped cream crepe, previously described in another entry. I almost couldn't, and probably shouldn't have eaten the whole thing. But I did. And to be fair, to myself, that was my main meal for the day! I must had some other pastries, but they escape my memory at the moment. So to sum up, I had started out with a goal to visit at least six museums in two weeks. That's a much slower pace than on previous visits, but in truth I am slowing down. And I lost one day due to the theft of my porte-feuille. That means wallet, I just had to get that word into print. I visited the Arts Naif museum, the Pompidou, the Petit Palais, the Arts Decoratif( only on my second attempt, the first was when I discoverd my wallet was gone.) And the Victor Hugo, which is a house museum located on the corner of the Place des Vosges. I had been there before, a long time ago. I always like house museums. And I was tired from walking around the city. And it is relatively small. And it is free. It certainly isn't as well known as many of the Paris attractions, but is definitely worth a visit. It's an apartment, small for a museum, but large for a house. The furnishings are not the originals, but are of the period. Except for the bed in the master bedroom. Which is the bed in which he died! So that makes five museums, unless I am forgetting one, which is certainly possible. Close to my goal. But I do wish I'd had the energy for a few more. I wouldn't have minded another visit to the Orsay, another favorite, or the Palais de Tokyo museum of modern art, which was closed between exhibits. And several others. The Louvre isn't high on my list anymore. I'm not sure it's even on my list. If the lines weren't so long, and reservations weren't necessary, I might be inclined. Not to see the Mona Lisa. There's another Leonardo portrait in the corrider that I much prefer. I think many people are underwhelmed by her anyway. It seems that so many sites have enormous crowds now, and not only in Paris. I wonder if I'll feel like visiting again next year, or if this might have been my last tango. (what was that movie about, anyway?) Valerie and Laurel have already scheduled another mural workshop for next year, as the school has requested another mural. Several people have already signed up, and they only have room for a dozen or so. Addendum: I just realized that I ought to consider the Cirque d"Hiver as a museum. It's historic, dating from the Napoleonic era,and was the place where the trapeze was created, (by a man named Jules Leotard!) They do a wonderful backstage tour one Saturday a month. So I guess I did meet my museum goal after all. Goals are nice to have, but I also think it's okay if you don't always meet them.