French Soundtrack, Part Deux

Let's face it: throughout the world, much of the soundtrack is English-language pop music: American, British, Irish, take your pick. However, that doesn't mean that there's not a lively enough scene in France, and in the French language. For the last musical posting, I looked at French-themed songs by non-French singers. But for these songs it's the reverse: French singers referencing the English-speaking world. First off is our favorite: SAULE and Charlie Winston with their Wild West video "Dusty Men":

Or Gerald De Palmas, singing "Dans Une Larme" -- a beautiful, raspy French song, with a video that's about as American as it gets:

Juliette Katz, with "Tout Va de Travers" -- a mellow, jazzy French song, with hints of English, and shots of London:

And last, but by no means least, a re-make of a classic French song, "Je te Donne" originally by Jean-Jacques Goldman. I remember this song from when I was here over 25 years ago, and I guess now it's retro-hip in the bilingual remake by Leslie and Ivyrise. It's a love song, and the video itself is an homage to two great cities: London and Paris.

 

We All Scream For...

Nothing can beat walking around on a warm day with a good ice cream cone. Unless it's walking around on a warm day with one of the world's best ice cream cones and being able to bypass the hour-long queue to get it.

  

Why such a wait? Berthillon (pronounced roughly "bear-tea-yo") is listed nearly everywhere as some of the best ice cream on planet Earth, and is in all the tour books. There are ice cream vendors and restaurants all over the island -- and all over France, for that matter -- proudly proclaiming that they sell Berthillon. But the original store is right here on Ile Saint Louis. Hence, even on cold, rainy days you can always see people strutting around with ice cream cones; it's like being in Boston, or Croatia. But on hot days, watch out: The entire island is groaning under the weight of double scoops.

 

Our secret to getting by the queues may not be helpful to you, since it revolves around living on the island. The original store, in the middle of the island, sells a rotating variety of 1/2 and 3/4 liter boxes, some of which even come in mixed boxes, with one flavor layered over the other (best combos so far: pistachio/raspberry and almond milk/strawberry). We even have parfait glasses that are parfait (perfect) -- a dozen that we won in the end-of-year school fundraising raffle.

 

They do offer Styrofoam cases if you need to transport them further, but we don't bother. We simply walk by the super-long lines, into the separate cash register for the non-cone buyers. I've never had more than three people in front of me for this line. The half liters cost around 9€ and the larger size around 13€. But it's well worth it when you consider a) how many servings you get, compared to the mini-scoops they sell for about 3€ b) how long the lines would be and c) the incredibly quality of the ice cream. I don't know how I can go back to other ice creams. I do miss American mega-chunks a little, I suppose, but the flavors here are so real, and so intense. That's Berthillon's claim to fame, and with good reason. It's sublime.

 

Creamy flavors we love: Caramel au Gingembre (ginger caramel, tastes like Christmas), Lait d'amande (almond milk), Noisette (hazelnut), Noix de Coco (coconut), Nougat au Miel (honey nougat), Pistache (pistachio), Praliné au Citron et Coriandre (Lemon Coriander Praline -- sounds bizarre, but tastes great!), Thé Earl Grey, and Chocolat au Nougat. Also excellent if you like very sweet: Caramel, Caramel au Beurre salé (Salted butter caramel). If you like very intense and almost bitter: Chocolat Noir (dark chocolate), also Gianduja à l'Orange, and Gianduja aux Noisettes (dark chocolate with orange and hazelnuts, respectively). And the one creamy flavor we've tried so far that we didn't love: Tiramisu.

 

 

Of the sorbets, which are still creamy in texture but non-dairy, we recommend: Framboise (raspberry), Melon (cantaloupe, and Pippa's all-time favorite, but only offered seasonally in summer, to her chagrin), and Poire (pear) are the absolute stand-outs in our mind. Heavenly. Fraise des Bois (wild strawberry) is very famous but too sweet for my taste. I prefer the plain Fraise (strawberry). Super intense, and perhaps best cut with some vanilla or something mellow: Cassis (black-currant), Cerise (cherry), Framboise à la Rose (raspberry with rose), Fruit de la Passion (passion fruit), Litchees, and Mangue (mango). Nice and mellower: Figue (fig), Mirabelle (French yellow plum), and Pêche de Vigne (a French purplish peach).

We always have a nice assortment at our own apartment. We have especially had to stock up for the few days during this summer when we'll be in Paris between trips, because in the Frenchest way possible, the store is closing today until Sept 4 for their summer holidays. In other words, they are shuttering arguably one of the most popular ice cream shops in the world during the height of summer vacation -- when the greatest number of people might want ice cream. Luckily, we have a big freezer. We are trying to work our way slowly, methodically, and joyfully through the Berthillon repertoire. The ones I most want to try in the near future: Chocolat Blanc (white chocolate), Grand-Marnier, Praliné aux Pignons (pine nut praline), Praliné Amaretto, Abricot (apricot), Mûre sauvage (wild blackberry), Pêche (peach), and Pêche et Feuille de Menthe (peach and mint leaf). And even after those, there will still be at least 33 more flavors we haven't tried. So, take that Baskin Robbins!
 

Nimrod & Schmuck

OK, it's not quite Nimrod, but does anybody else get a kick out of the names of these two lovely Parisian cafés?

 

 

Shakey, Resplendent Among the Foulards

My couster (cousin-sister) takes Paris by storm. She brings along the Trader Joe's Candied Pecans, as requested, and also a surprise stow-away in her admirably small luggage: Shakey, the special friend of my little nephew (OK, technically first cousin once removed, for those keeping track). I know my couster enjoys her first ever trip to the City of Lights -- and also a rare vacation from work and parenting duties.

 

But it's Shakey who really seems to savor every moment of his first visit here. While my couster goes around madly shopping for scarves (going home with a total of ten, I believe, and making me feel better about my collection), Shakey simply revels in the silk and light cotton, the rainbow of colors, the swirl of patterns. He is, of course, a bear who appreciates flowing fabrics.

 

Shakey marvels at the views on, outside, and of the Eiffel Tower. For the "outside" photo, we each take a turn holding our arms out of the safety grill while the other photographs and find ourselves gripping for dear life (his, I guess, but it oddly feels like it's for our own).

  

There are other notable tourist attractions, of course, because Shakey is a very cultured, half teddy-bear-top/half blankey-bottom, centaur-like, sophisticated traveler. He's sensitive, too, as you can see by the tender look on my couster's face at the Louvre. Or perhaps that makes her the sensitive one.

  

Shakey also appreciates the simple things in life -- a casual meal at an atmospheric café or sharing a dessert crêpe with a good friend.

 

Lest you think that the only thing we enjoy on my cousin's trip here is running around taking pictures of Shakey, you should know that we also get a big kick out of the lawn-mowing system at the Jardin de Tuileries (no, not a joke; this really is the lawn mowing system here)...

 

 

...and this baba au rhum (rum cake) served to us for dessert. Shakey, who is a purely G-rated actor in this drama, will have nothing to do with this baba au rhum, as nudity and sexual innuendo are not in his contract.

 

I Spy

What with all this talk of Edward Snowden, the fact that he holds no passport, and the fact that U.S. just may have, um, spied on its French ally, it seems like the perfect moment to discuss those little traits that are dead give-aways about what passport you hold, and whether or not you would hold up as a CIA spy in Paris:

How do you eat French fries and hamburgers? With your hands? You're American. The French do it with a fork and knife. Yes -- even the fries, which are, as I've discussed, not necessarily French. Also, as a French person, you would never ask for ketchup. So, if passing as a French person is your espionage duty to protect national security, part of your sacrifice is going to be eating dry fries.

Butter your bread? American. Eat it plain? French.

Gigi speaks perfect French, even according to the French themselves. But more than once I've seen her speaking fluently and then, when she needs to think of something, she says, "Ummmm." Dead give-away. A French person would say "Euhhhh."

Have a question? Raise your hand. Now, tell me: Did you raise your hand with all your fingers extended? Congratulations, you're a real American. Or did you raise your hand with your index finger extended, pointing to the sky? Felicitations, vous êtes un vrai français (in other words, you're French).

And, as I've mentioned before, even if you were living in a Tom Clancy Cold War era novel where you were trained for years to be a mole in France, you would get tripped up when somebody asked you to recite a Jean de la Fontaine poem. Only those raised on "Le Corbeau et Le Renard" can do it full sing-song justice.
 

Lady Liberté

July 4 is just another day here, but by complete coincidence, Gigi and a bunch of her classmates have an after-school get together in the park to celebrate their own impending liberation: their last day of school on July 5 before summer vacation and heading off to middle school. It evolves into them choreographing a gymnastics routine, then getting the idea to pass the hat, and then inspiration: Gigi proposes donating the money to organizations that free children from slavery. Amazingly, in just an hour and a half, they earn 50€, which we donate to Free The Slaves. Only after the fact do we realize how perfect this is: Children working with joy to help liberate children who work in misery -- and all on a day that (for some of us, at least) represents freedom.

 

 

So, with July 4 just past and July 14 (Bastille Day) approaching, and since the French and American revolutions were heavily linked in many respects, let's take a moment to look at some of the many, many references to Lady Liberty floating around Paris:

In the Jardin de Luxembourg, you might jog by her in this beautiful setting.

 

 

Translation of the plaque: "Liberty Lighting the World, Auguste Bartholdi (1834-1904)

On the occasion of the World Expo of 1900, sculptor Auguste Bartholdi offered to the Luxembourg Museum the bronze model he used to create the Statue of Liberty in New York. This statue was placed in the Luxembourg Gardens in 1906." This is, in fact, the original statue upon which all subsequent, larger versions are modeled.

 

At the Musée des Arts et Metiers, the backdrop is drastically different, and the information only slightly different: Here, the artist is more fully identified as Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi, and credit is also attributed to Gustave Eiffel, the famous engineer known for working with behemoth metal structures. At this museum, which is dedicated to inventions and progress, Lady Liberty stands both outside and inside, with an original 1/16th model. The outside lady is made of bronze, and is created from the original plaster, which is housed inside against a beautiful stained-glass window.

 

 

At the Eiffel Tower, engineer Gustave Eiffel's role in the copper statue is, naturally, the highlight. A panel explains: "The framework of the Statue of Liberty, a gift from the people of France to the United States, was one of the outstanding works of the 1880s. Its metal framework was designed like a bridge pylon."

 

If you're wondering why the buildings behind the great Lady with scaffolding look so very French, it's because this is a photo of her being assembled in Paris in 1884, before she was disassembled and shipped to the United States for re-assembly. (One of the few instances where even in English, I would say "she" instead of "it." Thankfully, the word "statue" is feminine in French, because referring to the Statue of Liberty as "he" would simply fry my brain.)

 

But the most impressive and visible of the great Ladies is the one presiding over the middle of the Seine, from the Ile aux Cygnes at the Pont de Grenelle.

 

 

There are two dates inscribed on the tablet Lady Liberty holds in the middle of the Seine: July 4, 1776, the date of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, and Aug 26, 1789, the date of the signing of the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen (Déclaration des droits de l'homme et du citoyen), which is to the French revolution pretty much what the Declaration of Independence is to the American one. Both dates are written in Roman numerals (July IV, MDCCLXXVI and Aug XXVI, MDCCLXXXIX). In New York, only the July 4 date is inscribed.

 

 

Originally, she was facing east into the city for the World Expo of 1889, then turned to face the mouth of the Seine (northwest) for the 1937 World Expo. But at the time of a renovation of the island and bridge in 1968, she was turned outward, so that she now looks west (and more specifically southwest) towards New York, while the Statue of Liberty in New York's harbor looks east toward Europe. Theoretically, their gazes should meet somewhere over the middle of the Atlantic, or, if you think about it, perhaps their gazes simply continue east, east, east or west, west, west, till they circle the globe entirely. Wouldn't it be nice if all people caught between and beyond their gazes were indeed living in liberty?

 

  

                                 New York                                                 Paris 

 

 

Pride, Finally

I thought the last posting on gay marriage would be my last, but now with the Gay Pride parade marching right by my island and coming on the heels (often very high heels) of the U.S. Supreme Court rulings, I simply cannot resist.

 

 

This year, the marchers are proud to fly the French flag freely alongside the rainbow flag. And I must say that I'm pretty proud of the Supreme Court (well, 56% of it anyway!) and am not surprised to see more pro-American sentiment than might have otherwise been expected.

 

Some of my favorite signs of the times:

 

 

"Liberty, Equality, Secularism" and a float promoting condom usage that says "Liberty, Equality, Protected" and sounds better in French.

  

 

 

"Fascism, even for sexual orientation, is not French." And Renault's commercial attempt to jump-on-the-band(station)wagon, with the slogan "Cars for all" mirroring the gay rights slogan "Marriage for all."

 

 

 

Some winners from what I call the religious correct (as opposed to the religious right): "God loves us all (men and women)", "We read the bible gaily", and "Jesus also had two mothers." But my very favorite sign of the parade:

"God is a black lesbian." And why not?

I'm not only proud to be American, and proud to be a gay marriage and gay rights supporter, I have to say this float walking by, complete with rainbow chuppah being carried by yarmulke-wearers, makes me proud of my liberal Jewish heritage, too.

 

And, not to be outdone, my husband's Christian upbringing is represented. Here, the American Cathedral's float makes me proud of their Americanism and their very christian (distinct from Christian) openness.

 

 

I don't know if my support of gay marriage stems from my liberal upbringing, my moral values which not only tolerate but celebrate diversity, or the fact that I have good gay and lesbian friends. But sometimes I suspect it's just my love of colors, choreography, theatrics, and flamboyance in general.

 

One thing that's very nice about Paris Pride as opposed to San Francisco Pride is that you can actually get up to the edge of the parade and wander about fairly freely. It is crowded and lively, and I don't have the official numbers, but it feels like the crowd must be 1/10 the size here. However, that doesn't mean Paris doesn't have some of the same characters, even down to the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, here indulging in a very French cigarette and sneer.

 

  

 Let's not forget the drag queens...

   

...and in one case, the drag Queen of England....

 

...or the men in uniform. Any uniform. I am thoroughly entertained by the UNIFS's slogan: "Guys in uniforms, and those that love them."  

 

 

Not to be confused with these guys, who are honestly guys in uniforms -- the guards patrolling the parade to keep everything safe. At least I think they're the real deal. But they are pretty darn hot. 

 

 

What kind of a place is this to bring children? A mighty fine one, mostly. Very colorful and friendly.

 

 

Of course, Gigi is a little confused by the guy in zippered leather bikini briefs (perhaps he thinks he's in San Francisco at the Folsom Street Fair, which makes a Pride parade look positively tame). She is also confused when the guy giving out free condoms very pointedly passed her by; it may be the first time in her life that being a cute kid has NOT earned her free swag. It gives me the fun opportunity to explain what a condom is and does. The fact is, there are lots of men here in not much more than underwear -- and skimpy French underwear at that. Of course, some of it is rather skimpier -- and more Folsom Fair -- than others.

 

  

She's not the only kid here, though. In some ways, it's business as usual. With a lot of rainbows. People drink their canned beverages, hang out with their loved ones, and chat on cell phones -- at least when the electronic club music is not blaring so loud it makes your heart thump. Isn't that nice, though? That gay pride, and gay marriage, should have attained this degree of normalcy? Someday it will be downright boring. But the parade itself won't be.