Hold the Roller Coasters, Please

It's August. That means that a large part of Paris's population has cleared out to various beaches and mountains across Europe. Lucky for us, that doesn't mean that the city has shut down entirely. The parks are still here, including a few summer-only ones like Paris Plages and the amusement park in the Tuileries Gardens. If you're traveling this way with a child, here's a non-exhaustive list of the places that have filled our summer days:

Jardin de Luxembourg: The most famous, with reason. If you've never been to Paris, this is probably the place you picture when someone says "Parisian parks." The manicured lawns (most not to be stepped on, beware), the statues, the little pond with the wooden boats being pushed around by children of all ages, the Guignol (puppet show), the joggers trotting by (including me, some mornings!), the people stretched out on the ubiquitous green lawn chairs either taking in the sun or reading the newspaper or having some lunch... It's all so heart-breakingly perfect that despite the other available options, I choke up the 3,70 Euros for Malanga Girl and I to enter the kiddie play area there at least once a week. Note that this is the only "for pay" playground I have found in Paris so far. One fee covers you for the whole day, though, and you can enter and exit as many times as you wish until 7pm. Be sure to bring along enough money for the carrousel (1,50 Euro) and the puppet show. And a crepe or PEZ dispenser or cotton candy or any of the other sweets around to tempt children and adults.

Les Tuileries: a beautiful, huge garden sandwiched between the Louvre and the Place de la Concorde. It's impossible to miss if you're strolling along the Rue de Rivoli or taking a bateau down the Seine. There's a very nicely designed kiddie park area available all year, and in the summer, the huge amusement park includes a ferris wheel, a trampoline (4 Euros for 5 minutes, but in my experience, they let you jump for a far longer period of time), and various rides, even a rollercoaster. The Caterpillar rollercoaster is designed for younger riders, but Malanga Girl did not like the ride at all. Some fried dough and carnival games made her forget all about it, though.

Bois du Boulogne Jardin d'Acclimatation: A second attempt on the rollercoaster at this park proved to all members of Malanga Familia that Malanga Girl is not a rollercoaster girl at all. Happily, there are many other rides for the four-year-old set to enjoy.

Parc Champs de Mars: with a wide expanse of green grass kids are actually allowed to run and play on and a fantastic view of the Eiffel Tower, what's not to love? It has not one, but TWO carrousels, three free kiddie park areas (divided by age-appropriateness of the equipment), concessions stands, a Guignol (puppet theater) and a concert area. Oh, and pedal cars! Did I mention that one of the carrousels is crank-operated? And that the largest playground area is shady and cool on a hot summer's day?

Parc Monceau: A little gem in the patrician 8th arrondissement. I stumbled upon it on a brisk November day during my house-hunting trip. It immediately seemed magical for reasons that are hard to put into words. We don't get there very often, but the very words "Parc Monceau" are like a fairytale encantation for Malanga Girl.

Parc André Citroën: Not the easiest park to get to since the closest subway stations are still a decent walk away. However, the time and energy you invest in getting there will see their reward in the form of water play and a hot air balloon. Note that the balloon only goes up if weather conditions are favorable. Check here for more info. There's also lots and lots of grass for picnicking.

Parc George Brassens: Off the normal tourist track, but it's an especially lovely place to visit on Sundays, when there's an old book market and pony rides for kids. The two kiddie park areas are superb and the Guignol (puppet show) is charming. There's also an outpost of famous Parisian bakery Poilâne nearby.

Parc des Buttes-Chamont: The park I know the least as it's massive and we still haven't been able to explore each corner of it. It's in northeast Paris, in the 19th arrondissement, and overlooks the whole city. This is the place where Malanga Mama is most likely to spend an entire day by herself once fall comes and school is back in session.

Jardin Catherine Labouré: My favorite park when I just want to lie on the grass or sit on a bench sunbathing while Malanga Girl plays. It's perfectly self-contained and a haven of peace and quiet almost any day of the week.

Canal St. Martin: Not technically a park, but the canal is a child-worthy destination to see the boats passing and the locks system in action. It makes for a lovely, lazy walk on a Sunday, when the streets are closed off to vehicular traffic. There are some parks along the way, including one tucked in just between the Canal and Gare de L'Est. And for four weeks spanning July and August, Paris Plages is set up along one part of the Canal.

More Malanga Mama park-swooning here and here.

If parks aren't your thing, Malanga Girl has also greatly enjoyed riding the little train that goes around Sacre-Coeur, the Batobus around the Seine and visiting the Musée Dorsay (the ballerinas are her favorite).

Just for fun, here's a link to a post describing my first trip to Paris with then Malanga Baby. I can't believe that was three years ago already!

Livrarias & Co.

The true measure of a city's greatness is the quality of its bookstores. I've been to otherwise perfectly lovely places and left with a pain in my chest at not finding a single good bookstore despite there being a strong local literary tradition (I mean you, Granada, Nicaragua). But then there are the places where you would fly in for a day just to spend a few hours at a place like Miami's Books & Books, or New York's Idlewild or The Strand  or Boston's Trident Books or Philadelphia's House of Our Own Bookstore or Buenos Aires' El Ateneo. Just writing their names makes me swoon a little.

Happily, my recent travels to Lisbon, Portugal and Copenhagen, Denmark were filled with discoveries of lovely bookshops. In Lisbon, I stocked up on Portuguese literature and children's books at Assirio e Alvim and Livraria Bertrand in the Chiado and at Ler Devagar (pictured) in the LX factory of the Alcantara neighborhood. Should you find yourself in Lisbon, the Chiado is easy to find and picture-perfect for strolling around. To get to the LX factory, take tram # 15 and get off at the Alcantara stop, then walk a few blocks to Rua Rodrigues Faria. The factory is at the end of that street, with other cute stores inside, but I only had eyes for the bookstore.

In Copenhagen, our friend and local guide led us to the absolutely charming Børnenes Boghandel, a brightly lit children's bookstore that made me want to learn Danish on the spot, just so I could take home one of everything on display! We bought an English translation of a Pippi Longstocking book that we read THREE times home on the plane. We also managed to walk out with two small Danish-language books. My friend was kind enough to translate the gist of the first book, but since the second one is all labeled pictures of things relating to dance stars, pop stars, veterinarians and other professions children dream of becoming, Malanga Girl and I are learning some new vocabulary.

Les Vacances!

A post in snapshots.

 St. Jean de Luz, France

 Pamplona, Spain

Americanos in the Kitchen

I have a special place in my heart for food trucks. Malanga Girl is probably at least one part burrito due to the intense and irrepressible cravings I felt in early pregnancy for the Calexico Food Truck on Wooster Street. I had this funny notion that everyone at the office would somehow catch on to the fact that I was pregnant because I was going out for several burritos per week. Now, in retrospect, I realize they probably just blamed my expanding waist line on the burrito addiction.

In any event, the appearance of a taco truck run by a real, live Californian at my local farmers' market was fairly exciting. My order today of tacos de carnitas comes just on the tail end of having finally tracked down a place that sells canned black beans in Paris. (I don't have it in me to make black beans from scratch, sorry to say.) At 4, 50 Euros per can, I was still pondering whether I should save them for a special occasion. So, it was extra exciting to see that my tacos were served with a generous side of black beans today. Not red beans or refried beans, but good, old-fashioned black beans how I like them. Brought to me by a Californian.

Incidentally, I finally located the canned black beans at an emporium of American products called The Real McCoy.  Lest you think I'm thinking of changing the expression to "as American as black beans," I'll leave you with the simple yet delicious apple pie recipe I picked up from a Monoprix circular a few weeks ago. It has been a big hit in our house and I just made it again tonight. My amazing assistant, Malanga Girl, suggested the addition of cinnamon to the original recipe. Genius!

Ingredients
1 box of puff pastry
3-4 apples
70 g butter
sliced almonds (I used about 1/3 cup)
2 tablespoons honey
Cinnamon (to taste)

Method
- Peel the apples and slice
- Put the puff pastry in a pie mold
- Place the apples on the puff pastry
- Bake for 20 minutes (the recipe didn't specify a temperature, the box of puff pastry suggested 210 degrees Celsius, I am still fiddling with the temperature).
- In the meantime, melt the butter, add the almonds and the 2 Tablespoons of honey. Add cinnamon to mixture. Pour on baked pie and put back in oven for 4-5 minutes.
Note that the French are very opposed to serving desserts like this with ice cream, but in the privacy of our own home, we quite enjoyed the pie with some vanilla ice cream.

I'm Here for the Food

Two book projects down and now I can focus on the real task at hand: eating my way through Paris. I’ve been visiting the various farmers’ markets since winter, but there’s a special charm to them in spring. The colors of the fruits and vegetables are more vibrant, the selection is wider, the taste of everything is just a little bit sweeter. And, what warms my heart even more than my stomach: I now engage in friendly chit-chat with the vendors I’ve gotten to know over the last few months. There’s the Portuguese fruit vendor (his selection is pictured above), who reminds me that a “fraise” in Portuguese is “morango” and generally indulges me with a fun mix of French and Portuguese as he scoops my cherries into the brown paper sack. There’s the cheese vendor who didn’t laugh at me when I thought the “roquette” called for in my Provencal lasagna recipe was a type of cheese. (It’s not, it’s a green leaf. ) His “brie moeux” is divine, especially on a piece of fresh bread with some basil leaves and a slice or two of rosette (a salami-like cured meat). There’s the spice vendor from whom I have bought ras-el-hanout, herbes de Provence, sesame seeds, and, my latest swoon-worthy discovery, Orange blossom water. I often open the bottle just to take an endorphin-boosting sniff. This same spice vendor welcomed my father enthusiastically to the market when we strolled through together on a recent spring day. How could I not have a special affection for him now?

As much as I love my local vendors, I do cheat on them occasionally. Last Friday, I went over to the market on Place Monge, in the 5th arrondissement, just a few steps from Hemingway’s old haunts in Paris. It felt a bit like being on vacation. I limited myself to purchasing things I could tote around all day, like a jar of honey and a big bulb of fennel, but I took it all in just the same. Then I strolled over to Rue Mouffetard and bought a stack of books to make up for the fresh meats and fish I didn’t purchase at Place Monge. I’m funny like that. But really, aren’t books and food equally necessary? Speaking of, I have another thing to look forward to this summer, besides the expanding selection of fruits and veggies. I can finally read whatever I want now that my translation projects are done. Now that deserves indulging in some kind of celebratory meal!

Le Week-end sans enfant

So what does Malanga Mama do when she suddenly has Paris all to herself for about 36 hours? Malanga Papa and Malanga Girl went camping out in Rambouillet for a night this weekend, leaving me on my own. It wasn't long enough to really start missing them, but gave me plenty of opportunity to:

- Go on a big Monoprix shopping spree. Monoprix is like the French Target and I just can't get enough of this store. It is one of the few places where I can feed my beauty-product addiction in one stop (I miss U.S. drugstores so much!) AND it has a huge supermarket in the basement. The meat counter is nothing to write home about, but the rest of the food selection is great.

- Finally check out the Other Writer's Group at Shakespeare & Company. It had been way too long since I'd shared a piece of original writing with anyone and even longer since I had something BRAND SPANKING NEW to share, so it was pretty exciting for me. The dynamic was very laid back. There were about 10-12 people total and about 5 of us had pieces to share. Mostly prose, but there was a sonnet in iambic pentameter in the mix, too. I received some very good feedback on my work and best of all, was able to come home and make changes right away. One full hour of undisturbed writing on a Saturday night. Ah, heaven!

- Cook! I cooked and cooked some more, because I enjoy it and because it's such a fantastic way to procrastinate when I actually have a work project with a fixed deadline. I baked a ham, pine nut and golden raisin loaf Saturday night around 10pm before getting down to finally work and then I made an amazing scallop, golden apple & shallot dish Sunday evening to welcome my family home. I am posting the recipes below, in translation from two fantastic French-language cookbooks (one of which has was bought in Paris years ago, lived on my New York shelf and then made it back here with me).

- Catch up on this and that. I emailed friends I'd neglected for way too long, organized some of Malanga Girl's toys and dress-up shoes (so many pairs!), did several loads of laundry, folded and put away clean laundry that had piled up in various corners of the apartment (especially on a little settee in my office where no one has been able to sit since... February or so?), gave the oven a good scrub down, mopped the hardwood floors... Oh yes, and worked. Please add cleaning to the list of things I do to procrastinate when I have a deadline.

- See a movie in the theater. I watched "De Rouille et D'Os," a French-language film based on Craig Davidson's short story collection "Rust and Bone." I haven't been able to track down the book in Paris, but the movie was so emotional and visually-stunning that I didn't need any background to appreciate it. Also, I am convinced that there are few people on earth more beautiful than Marion Cotillard and Matthias Schoenaerts. I could have watched them for hours. If you happen upon this movie wherever you are, see it!

- Wander around Montparnasse Cemetery. This is a lovely thing to do on a brilliantly sunny day when you have forty-five minutes free before seeing a movie. But, I happen to like cemeteries and like this one in particular even more than most others.

Monday was a holiday and to welcome Malanga Girl back from her camping escapade, we spent the day at the Parc Andre Citroen together, hence the photo. The park has an honest-to-goodness hot air balloon! And fountains! What's not to love?

THE PROMISED RECIPES...

Johanna's Pine Nut and Herb-crusted Ham Loaf
From "Les recettes du Mistral" by Sandra Mahut
Ingredients
3 eggs
200 g flour
10 cl milk
10 cl olive oil
1 envelope "Levure Chimique"
100 g pine nuts
100 g golden raisins
150 g herb-crusted ham
20 g butter (to butter pan)
salt and pepper

Method
1- Cut the ham in small pieces.
2- Place the raisins in some hot water or tea for 5 minutes. Dry with a paper towel.
3- Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C. (350 F???)
4- Beat the eggs in a bowl. Add the flour, then the levure chimique, milk and olive oil. Salt and pepper generously. Add the pine nuts, raisins and finally, the ham. Mix well.
5- Butter a loaf pan, place the batter in pan and bake for 45 minutes.
This tasted yummy all by itself, but a smear of butter was quite nice on it as well.

Scallop, Apple and Curry Tagine
from Tajines & Couscous by Laurence du Tilly
Ingredients
4 Golden apples
3 Shallots
3 Tablespoons olive oil
20 scallops (fresh or frozen)
1 Tablespoon Curry
2 Tablespoons Fresh Heavy Cream (Malanga Mama thinks you could try replacing with Greek Yogurt)
Salt and pepper

Method
1- Peel and cube the apples. Peel and finely dice the shallots.
2- Heat the oil in a cocotte. Add apples and shallots and cook uncovered for ten minutes, stirring frequently with a wooden spoon. Add curry, salt and pepper. Cover and leave over low flame for 20 minutes.
3- Add the fresh cream, mix and place the scallops on top. Add more salt and pepper. Cover and cook for ten more minutes. Serve immediately.
This meal went well over couscous.
BON APPETIT!

Four Years and One Week

Malanga Girl had a birthday last Friday. Festivities lasted for approximately 5 days since the day before her birthday kicked off a holiday weekend here in France. From Thursday-Sunday, Malanga Girl told us adults where we'd be going and what we would be doing. She managed to cram in a second visit to the Musee D'Orsay (her favorite because of the ballerinas), another ride on the Bato Bus up and down the Seine, visits to the zoo, the Opera, the Eiffel Tower and the Parc George Bressens. She rode a pony at this last venue, and watched a guignol (marionette) performance as well. Cupcakes and many scoops of ice cream were eaten over the weekend as well.

Monday brought the long-awaited Barbie cake to school. I did not make this, nor do I have any idea how I would even begin to construct such a thing. But in less than five minutes, it was disassembled for small mouths after a trilingual chanting of "Happy Birthday." (Note that I was terrified Barbie's face would melt or her hair would catch on fire from the candles, so keep this in mind if you feel adventurous enough to attempt making your own Barbie cake someday.)

Oh Malanga Girl, you are so big now. You even make up your own poems in French. "Je m'appelle une cocinelle," you said to me one day recently. My growing ladybug. Happy birthday! Felicidades! Joyeux Anniversaire!