FESTINS' WINDOW PARIS
LIZ SAYS: We biked out the the Parc Floral to see the flowers but never got in. We stopped to eat at our favorite little Italian place. They have a rolled grilled zucchini slice filled with a bit of prosciutto and cheese, topped with a dash of olive oil that is a lovely treat. Tres Bon! Once outside the Resto we debated whether the skies would open or the grey clouds would pass. So, we decided to play it safe and head back towards home, trying to remember to stop at a traiteur that Dick had noticed a couple of times. Traiteurs are to go places that have the French version of an American supermarket's deli. And, vive la difference!
All traiteurs are not created equal; some, such as Fauchon, are fabulously renown. The competition for the most gorgeous, mouthwatering attractions is awe inspiring. Some desserts barely resemble food and are so fabulous it would be heartbreaking to crack the surface and eat them.
On the other hand, there are the uber-dishes. Tiny fowl dressed with tiny fruits, their delicate little ankles crossed, then glazed so beautifully that it's hard to believe they are real. Ah, but they are, and most of the time the food tastes as good as it looks, which is truly amazing. None of that Franken food, no synthesized gel coating a barely flavored dried out piece of poultry.
This window had the most beautiful pâté with rose petals just under the amber gelee covering amongst other darling dishes. And it's a good thing the window was so stunning because, as the skies blew buckets of huge drops, we could just enjoy the view for a good half hour, while thanking our lucky stars for the awning that was keeping us dry.
LIZ SAYS: We biked out the the Parc Floral to see the flowers but never got in. We stopped to eat at our favorite little Italian place. They have a rolled grilled zucchini slice filled with a bit of prosciutto and cheese, topped with a dash of olive oil that is a lovely treat. Tres Bon! Once outside the Resto we debated whether the skies would open or the grey clouds would pass. So, we decided to play it safe and head back towards home, trying to remember to stop at a traiteur that Dick had noticed a couple of times. Traiteurs are to go places that have the French version of an American supermarket's deli. And, vive la difference!
All traiteurs are not created equal; some, such as Fauchon, are fabulously renown. The competition for the most gorgeous, mouthwatering attractions is awe inspiring. Some desserts barely resemble food and are so fabulous it would be heartbreaking to crack the surface and eat them.
On the other hand, there are the uber-dishes. Tiny fowl dressed with tiny fruits, their delicate little ankles crossed, then glazed so beautifully that it's hard to believe they are real. Ah, but they are, and most of the time the food tastes as good as it looks, which is truly amazing. None of that Franken food, no synthesized gel coating a barely flavored dried out piece of poultry.
This window had the most beautiful pâté with rose petals just under the amber gelee covering amongst other darling dishes. And it's a good thing the window was so stunning because, as the skies blew buckets of huge drops, we could just enjoy the view for a good half hour, while thanking our lucky stars for the awning that was keeping us dry.
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