warm sentiments

I’ve returned from the eternal sunshine known as Florida. At least in body. My mind is still filled with palm trees and the cries of seagulls. It was beneath such a landscape that we spent a warm and memorable Christmas in the company of my mom. Many days of calm, conversation and characters. It was ideal, this welcome jaunt into what felt like another space and time.

Rather than fly to NYC and brave a pending snow storm (hadn’t we had enough of that already in Paris?), we ventured to Miami. What better place to celebrate the New Year than South Beach?

I’ve never been a big fan of New Year’s Eve, as reality always seem to take an opposite turn from my expectations. A lesson in letting go perhaps. It’s the beginning of the next year that I welcome. Rather than make an ambitious list of resolutions as has often been my habit, (and usually recycling them the next year), I decided instead to be clear and mindful of my goals. Most of all, to be aware of what is most important in life. Family. Friends. Health. Love. To name a few. Day 7, so far so good.

And now, being back in the cold and grey of Paris, those days in Florida feel like a distant blur… 

sunshine calling

We are taking a break from life amidst the caprice of winter in Paris (snow, rain, sleet and all the in between) to seek refuge beneath a welcoming sun. Two weeks basking in the glorious sunshine of Florida. Feasts skillfully prepared by le chef Mom, long, lazy days by the pool followed by evenings of tennis. Perhaps an early bird special or two… Is this what they call retirement?

Last year we spent our first Christmas in Paris. Alone. Together. It was perfect. This year I am looking forward to sharing the traditions we have created. While we relive those of my childhood. Replacing Galette des Rois and chocolat chaud with fresh fruit and mimosas.

From this far away land I send warm thoughts. In honor of the holidays, family, friends, and all that is worth celebrating.

From the Land of Palms to the City of Lights, the adventures continue in 2011…

Meilleurs voeux a tout le monde!

time to celebrate!

Nearly 700 kilometers, a dozen fresh fish, 5 spectacular sunsets, 3 shades lighter in mind, (and 2 shades darker in body) and many adventures later, I am back in Paris. For those keeping track. I have a lot of thoughts to share about these recent days in Corsica, and many images which even more accurately capture the experience. Those stories soon to come!

Since my return to ‘real life in Paris’ I’ve learned a lot about the French art of celebration having recently attended a friend’s ‘blink and it’s over’ wedding at the Mairie followed by not the same friend’s baby-shower in which the greatest surprise for the mommy-to-be was a police-officer turned stripper. Little did I know how the French like to celebrate! Conservative? Never!

And now it’s time to join the festivities about to begin, commemorating the start of the French Republic. My first Bastille Day in Paris, after many spent in NYC as a Francophile. I wonder if the rumors are true about those firemen at Les Bal des Pompiers…

Queen for a day

My favorite French tradition thus far is the celebration of the Epiphany on January 6th, the day when the 3 kings visited the baby Jesus. To commemorate this day, we ate a Galette des Rois, a delicate puff-pastry cake filled with a rich frangipane filling, delicious!! As part of French tradition, a small figurine is hidden in the cake and he or she who finds “la fève” in their slice becomes king or queen for a day. As luck would have it, I almost bit into a tiny ceramic rat in my first slice (not certain of the symbolism of what we consider a rodent in the USA, an insignificant detail perhaps?). I am the Queen! Rather than entertain ourselves with the traditional dance which we have yet to learn, we made a bet in which I would indeed be treated most royally. Needless to say, we have been indulging in this “king cake” every day since. Time now to take off the crown.

Bonne Année!

What better place to spend the last day of a most memorable year than at the Tour Eiffel, in the glow of it’s hourly brilliance. To toast in a new year reminiscing all the splendor of the last we crossed the Seine to an intimate eatery in Saint Germain (resulting in a typically French eating experience I will refrain from describing in any detail, only to mention there greatly lacks a customer service mentality in Paris) followed by drinks and dancing with the locals until we could cheer in the new year across the ocean. A bi-continental celebration of sorts ending in penne al salmone at 6am (Italian style). Today we strolled around the block with passports in hand, to invite much travel in the new year, a tradition my dear friend Jen passed on to me from her Colombian roots. Cheers to another year of love in the city of lights!

Joyeux Noel!

Christmas in Paris. The many customs of my childhood came to mind as I prepared my first traditional Polish Christmas eve dinner (in France with an Italian, mind you), consisting of homemade borscht (beet soup) and pierogi (a sort of dumpling typically filled with cheese and potato). This dish became a melange of cultures as I could not find the commonly used farmers cheese and concocted a combination of fresh chevre and parmesan. C’est pas mal! I have created a new recipe. Post international feast we were led by a serene path of stars into the melodies of a choir filling the air of Cathedral Notre Dame, followed by midnight mass. No translation was necessary. I was completely taken with the feeling and tradition of Christmas.

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