As
I'm sitting on the train in Paris behind a poet who is writing about a love
lost, I can't help but peek between the seats in front of me. His words remind me of one of my favorite
dark poems by Verlaine, a 19th century symbolist poet.
During our
recent trip, I spent Sunday like most Parisians do, at the Jardin du
Luxembourg, putting my feet up in the sun and people watching. My favorite
corner away from the senate building and the marble statues of former queens, is on
the quiet side by the statue of Verlaine. He struggled to get to know
himself, much like I did and speaks beautifully of that exploratory journey of
self-realization, including its darkest melancholic moments in this poem:
“Il
pleure dans mon coeur
Comme il pleut sur la ville;
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui pénètre mon coeur ?
Ô bruit doux de la pluie
Par terre et sur les toits !
Pour un coeur qui s'ennuie,
Ô le chant de la pluie !
Il pleure sans raison
Dans ce coeur qui s'écoeure.
Quoi ! nulle trahison ?...
Ce deuil est sans raison.
C'est bien la pire peine
De ne savoir pourquoi
Sans amour et sans haine
Mon coeur a tant de peine!”
It weeps in my heart
like it rains on the town.
What
is this languor
that
penetrates my heart?
Oh
the soft sound of the rain
on
the ground and on the roofs!
For
a heart in pain
oh
the song of the rain!
It weeps without reason
in
this disheartened heart.
What!
No betrayal?
This grief has no cause.
And nothing is worse pain
than not knowing why,
without
love or hatred,
my
heart has so much pain.
Our
visit to the jardin last Sunday was neither painful nor rainy. The sun inspired
us to stop at the marché bio (organic farmer's market) on blvd. Raspail and
pick up some cheese and fruit to head to the park. Sadly we had forgotten to
get wine and the shops were not open. Quelle horreur! So we made the most of it
and gleefully spread out the baguette, artisanal foie gras, Brie de Meaux,
Crottin d'affiné, Tomme de Brebis, and Roquefort cheeses next to the gorgeous
sweet small fraises (strawberries) and fragrant myrtilles (blueberries). The
charentais melon looked beautiful but would have to wait until after the
impomptu picnic when we would have a knife. It didn't take long before we were
greeted by the park police with “la pelouse est interdite”.
I have to admit
while I had not forgotten the incident with the same message years ago when my
sister and nephews sat on the lawn with me, I feigned innocence and quickly apologized
before taking to our chairs near the Verlaine statue for the rest of the
picnic. In the southern most corner of the park, there is permission to use one
long patch of lawn. The rest, including
the large circle around Verlaine’s statue, is forbidden. I might have to make the same “mistake” again
next time I visit the park but won't forget the wine to go with the picnic!
My weekend in Paris always has a juxtaposition of simple pleasures one day
followed by decadently rich culinary meals the next. Steps away from our rented apartment on rue du Dragon in Saint-Germain-de-Prés, opposite the direction of
touristy hot spots of Café Floré and Aux Deux Magots, where the literary greats
and poets used to hang out and drink the infamous green halucinatory absinthe,
is my favorite last stop in Paris. In a little square with no corners called La Place Recamier, Chef Gerard
Idoux makes the most decadent fluffy soufflés at La Cigale Recamier. Some
favorite savory (salés) and sweet (sucrés) dishes include:
- Soufflé farine de blé noir et champignons des bois (buckwheat with wild mushrooms)
- Soufflé foie gras figues (foie gras with figs)
- Soufflé chèvre au thym (goat cheese and thyme)
- Soufflé fromage (cheese)
- Soufflé aux figues fraiches (fresh figues)
- Soufflé caramel à la fleur de sel (caramel with salt)
- Soufflé Grand Marnier [Note: A bottle of Grand Marnier is served alongside this delicate flavored soufflé sucré. Don't try to take the cork out of the bottle... the cork has holes like a fine salt shaker for drizzling just the right amount without flooding the dessert.]
- Soufflé farine de blé noir et champignons des bois (buckwheat with wild mushrooms)
- Soufflé foie gras figues (foie gras with figs)
- Soufflé chèvre au thym (goat cheese and thyme)
- Soufflé fromage (cheese)
- Soufflé aux figues fraiches (fresh figues)
- Soufflé caramel à la fleur de sel (caramel with salt)
- Soufflé Grand Marnier [Note: A bottle of Grand Marnier is served alongside this delicate flavored soufflé sucré. Don't try to take the cork out of the bottle... the cork has holes like a fine salt shaker for drizzling just the right amount without flooding the dessert.]
Suffice
it to say the salade verte served with the soufflé is obligatory. On many other
occasions I've had the caviar d'aubergine with the dorade or agneau dishes and
you can tell that the soufflés are only one of the specialties that draw older local
regulars such as politicians to the restaurant.
Order from the regular menu or the daily specials on the blackboard
presented tableside and you can’t go wrong with any of your choices. Recamier has a chef who knows how to prepare
great food without pretense.
Suddenly
as I take a spoonful of the delicate soufflé on this rainy final eve in Paris, I find myself forgetting
Verlaine's heartfelt pain and hear songs of joy inside my head with every
melting bite. The only weeping in my
heart is from the thought that I need to wait
until my next trip to savor these flavors again.
s
l)