We wake up early before the stores are open. With Starbucks in hand (convenience often means disappointing taste), we squat outside of Monoprix until they open the doors. We try and decode the bottles to figure out which one is lotion, hope we are right. We take a chance on a $1.80 Cotes du Rhone and a $10 Grand Cru Bordeaux. Monoprix is like French Trader Joe's... well, hopefully not!!
Wow, there are so many Lindt bars, but alas no framboise. The chocolate bar aisle is twice the length of the cereal aisle. Kellogg owns the cereal section with their Miel Pops and "Grrr Tiger". We decide to not take a chance on the canned ratatouille, although I am curious.
More pain au chocolate for our morning garden walk at the Luxembourg Gardens. They are pulling up the flowers, so we are just in time to enjoy the last few hours of beauty. We take the back streets to the car rental place, which takes much longer than expected. Tom keeps threatening to whip out the Garmin. The streets are small, cobble stones, and dozens of closed fromageries.
We get our rental car out of a mall parking lot and are dumped out into a busy roundabout. Certainly is a terrifying way to start the day. Many wrong turns later we are able to get back to our hotel, where I pull my neck trying to get the luggage into the car. A French boy asks me a question and I am finally able to use "Je ne parl pa francias".
I crank the Edith Piaf as we cross Pont Neuf to Gallery Lafayette. It is amazing how many maps and signs there are available to people walking the city, but when you are driving... traffic lights are hard to spot and there are no indications of one way streets beyond lucky guessing.
Lafayette Gourmet is a foodies heaven. We try many cheeses before deciding on Beaufort and Rondin. They have picnic supplies galore, but hardly a place to sit and snack. I grab a mini bottle of Cotes du Rhone and what I think is a flat water (not so) and head for the exit. We park our butts in the food court, where Tom devours the kalamata olives in one foul swoop.
Just as we are ready to leave, I spy a display of spices. There are mountains of Indian pepper, salt, curries, exotic tease, and it all smells gorgeous. It is expensive, but the quality is beyond imagination. I wave my hand over the mounds to get sniffs of the treasure below. A woman overhears me comment about my failed paella and tells me to "keep trying".
We exit the city, au revoir Paris. Weird road signs along the way: exploding car and a computer with a bowtie. What does it mean? We are in French farm country now, and all of the signs and walls are super short. Are French people short? One thing is for sure, the Europeans love their roundabouts. Also, the Garmin cannot, try as it might, pronounce French.
We arrive at the Chateau Vaux le Vicomte by way of a grand tree lined road that looks out of a fairy tail. The Chateau is even prettier, but alas, the owners had just closed for the season that day. Off to the next Chateau in Fontainebleau. On the way we chat about how the Peugeot symbol looks like a zombie lion, and how out of place the graffiti (frequent) and McDonalds signs (occasional) appear on the landscape.
We arrive through punks and crowds of Asian tourists at the Chateau. We take pictures at the stairway, lots of pictures, and as a result we miss the last entrance into the Chateau by one minute. Oh well, time for a picnic in the Forest of Fontainebleau instead.
The Forest is huge, but it is hard to find a place to stop. Park the car near a hunting lodge, and we watch as the hunters wander further and further out into the woods. The floor is red with leaves and there are vines on the trees. I use the dashboard as a place to cut cheese, and a plastic wrapped credit card as a cheese knife. Dining fancy with ghetto utensils.
Beaufort is the most amazing cheese I've ever had. It combines the crunchy crystals of a good aged gouda with a nutty mocha flavor and a texture that sticks to the roof of your mouth like peanut butter or a good chocolate bar. Sausage, bread, and even the $1.80 wine are all fantastic. The wine is simple and cheap but better than Charles Shaw. We swig from the bottle, as cautiously as we can, but who is going to care? The hunters and forest animals?
The sun is going down as we enter Burgundy. There are pictures of every town on signs as you approach them. As it gets dark, we see the little lights start to come on in the hillside. We reminisce about Paris and how all the girls wear dramatic makeup and how good the meals were. We spot a lit up castle on the hill.
Approaching Beaune, the scattered lights become a condensed sea. We pass a cute town center which is empty and closed down, but lit up like an indoor mall with flood lights embedded into the sidewalk. There is a fully lighted but equally shut down carnival right next to our hotel. Where are all the people? Beaune seems deserted, albeit quaint and safe.
Our #1 pick for a restaurant is full, #2 appears to be out of business, so we take a risk on Le Fluery. I order an aperitif of Aligote and Mersault. I learned from Julie that it is very French to get a light wine before you begin your meal. The Aligote is a light, refreshing blend of floral and lemon. The Mersault (considerably more expensive) is an oak bomb, heavy, a very burgundy wine and very good.
The waitress places a grey liquid on the table with no explanation. Tom thinks it might be the escargot all ground up into a shot glass. That would be a strange mistranslation on the menu. Is it a dipping sauce for our bread? Dressing for the salad? But we didn't order a salad? Oh... it's an amuse bouche, which means to "amuse your mouth". I should have known that from all my Top Chef. Amusing indeed, it is rich and creamy with salty herbs that dance in your mouth.
Tom decides he likes escargot better than mussels. Domain Emile Jullot Theaulot Cote Chalonnaise Bourgogne 2005 is kinda dark in color for a pinot. It's aramo is of chemical strawberry, moldy shower and fruit, typical. Tastes of mild, buried raspberry with a smooth finish, not too dry at all, balanced. Delicious and easy to drink with the tender Charolais beef.
We are noticing that French restaurants keep their lights too bright. As we wait for our deserts, we see a mammoth hairy dog wander the streets outside along. I am also tempted by the half drank bottle of obviously expensive wine left at the table next to us. The cream brulee is underwhelming, not the right temperature at all, it should be luke warm. The pears are cut and fried like French fries, but they are no where as good as those delicious friend plantains from Versailles (Cuban restaurant, not the city).
We stop back at Ma Cuisine (#1 choice restaurant) to make some reservations for lunch tomorrow. When we walk in, the guy gives us a weird look, like why are you trying to get dinner in my obviously packed restaurant at 11 pm. But, he becomes nice when he finds out we want reservations. Tom gets confused about the time, getting more practice with French numbers. On the way back, Tom thinks he loses the camera, but it was always his body the whole time.
Random notes before bed... public bathrooms seem small, and the flush is more of a waterfall rather than a whirlpool. Doors always seem to open the wrong way and they don't close on their own weight. French seem to be weirded out by our request to share meals, even though portions are huge. If you ask for water, expect to get bottled unless you specify. You'd never be able to get a Hummer through these streets. Hotel keys are big and bulky and often left at hotel reception.