Who Can Nap the Longest?
With the children still on school holidays it was a see-saw of cobbled together “fun activities” (such as Spiderman face painting, sacrificing a red lipstick and a black eyeliner) vs playing “let’s see who can nap the longest” while I attempted to clear my inbox. We stayed in pjs all day, baked apple pie, drew countless drawings and generally recharged their batteries before a big year ahead, delighting them with countless stories and a little extra attention.
It’s Galette de Rois season and bakery windows are piled high with fancy creations made with variations on the classic almond filling such as pistachio, rose essence or a babka des rois, each with a special fève and crown to entice you. In a slight case of the bah-humbugs I bought a budget one from the grocery store for the kids one afternoon which turns out was the right decision as they only wanted to compete over the crown anyway.
After last year when I dutifully made gluten free puff pastry only for all the frangipane filling to ooze out the sides (twice) I wised up and bought the base this time, assuming that would solve the problem. Unfortunately after 5 minutes in the oven the filling predictably began to leak out (something that’s never happened with regular puff pastry to me in the past) so if you have any tips for sticking gluten free puff pastry together I’d love to hear them (I’ve tried water, egg wash and a mix of water and icing sugar so far, no luck).
After a comedically large coffee with a friend in the 15th I strolled home in the sunshine along the river bank, passed endlessly by runners either working on January resolutions or preparing for the marathon in April. The water was a fetching shade of grey and I’m still not sure I’d jump in to swim a triathlon leg but perhaps by the Olympics in July it’ll be all ok?
In my own nod to resolutions I’ve been competing with the Pilates Grannies to snag spots at the gym, appreciating a bit of stretching after too much screen time over the holidays, and week one of the wardrobe freeze went fine (it helped that I barely left the house). I spent a decent amount of time unsubscribing from marketing emails and Instagram accounts of brands which lightened up my inbox considerably but les soldes start on Wednesday so I’ll have to put my blinkers on, and I’ve also discovered a penchant for browsing secondhand clothing on Jacadi 2nd vie and Bon Point Vintage for the children (what a loophole!) so I’ll need to keep an eye on that.
On Friday evening, oblivious to the fact I had a dinner reservation with a friend, Noisette defied gravity to reach a block of chocolate that she devoured in one before returning guiltily to her panier with a sore tummy. After discovering the empty wrapper and noticing her behaviour we called an emergency vet who had her throwing up and high as a kite in no time, a €300 mistake that hasn’t taught her any lesson at all.
In France Christmas trees arrive with a big wooden base which means they don’t get watered and as a result it’s a huge mess to depose of them at the end of the season. Even breathing near our tree would cause a shower of pine needles to scatter into hard to reach places where we’ll be finding them for months, not to mention the carnage created by taking down the decorations. My husband patiently sawed the branches off in order to get it downstairs to the recycling area in the park (nowhere in Paris smells better in early January) and I’m thankful he has a whole year to forget the trouble before I buy the next one.
The market was practically empty on Tuesday with most vendors still away, but by Saturday the regulars were back and I waited patiently in line to stock up on fresh fruit and vegetables for the week ahead. It’s mimosa season so I also picked up some bright yellow bunches to brighten up the house, a perfect balance to the grey skies outside.
On Sunday afternoon we took our sailboats for a spin in the grand bassin at the Jardin du Luxembourg where we bore witness to the dramatic rescue of a nippy little remote control Riva that had beached itself on the duck house in the middle. After some amateur attempts to free it two surveillants (guardians of the park) arrived with a long rope and pulled a snappy manoeuvre to liberate it, to the joy of its young owner. Drama over we bundled up home to get in from the cold.
Have a great week,
- Emily
Cheese we’re eating this week:
Crottin de Chavignol - a goat’s cheese from the Loire valley.
Camembert de Normandie - a raw cow's milk cheese with a soft bloomy rind. It’s protected in France by an appellation d'origine contrôlée (AOC) which means it must come from a specific area.
Comté - a semi-hard cheese made from unpasteurised cow’s milk from the Jura Massif region of France, this one was aged 24 months.
Back to basics this week, all 3 cheeses were from Fromagerie Saunders in the marché couvert Saint-Germain.
Real Life Paris Photo
Extreme Christmas tree disposal.
Poor Noisette! Last week, my son’s Irish doodle puppy, Alfie, ate a rather large lump of aluminum foil on one of his walks. Needless to say, rather than performing surgery, the vet gave him something so he’d vomit it up, which he did. Hope he’s learned his lesson. And I hope Noisette feels better!❤️