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The days are getting longer and today, tiny birds were tweeting throughout the city which is normally a sign of spring. This is impossible, of course. Galettes des Rois are still on pastry shelves, and the scent of fir from ground up Christmas trees, which are spread around the city to protect tree roots, is thick in the air.
But why not dream? Dreamland is a great place to be.
Speaking of dreamland, my new apartment in Paris is coming along. Spoiler Alert! I have no mean or frustrated things to say, nor any terribly funny stories to tell because everything is proceeding apace, the artisans are overall timely and very good at what they’re doing, and the architect I congratulate myself daily for hiring is a dream.
Background. I bought a small apartment in a 1930’s building that charmed me the minute I walked in. Fixing it to my standards required a complete gut, and it is now being put back together in a different formation. I’ve been through this before, several times, but not in a teeny place and never with a crew. Previous remodels were in another life where often, the crew included me. I’m delighted to watch from the sidelines.
Except when I stop by unexpectedly and surprise the young man who is carefully taping the sheetrock with a cigarette in his mouth and a cloud of smoke obscuring my view. If course I’d asked everyone not to smoke unless they were desperate, at which point they should open the window. This young man heard but, to be generous, perhaps didn’t understand since his French is non-existent and I don’t speak Polish. I asked him again, miming opening the window and taking a drag, then mentioned this in passing to the architect. She looked at me, deadpan. “They all smoke. They all used to drink and now no one does. Consider yourself lucky.”
I do.
There have been hiccups, self-induced because there is much I don’t know how to understand. Architects’ plans, for instance. When I noted to the architect that there weren’t enough outlets, I was brought up quickly with a phrase that went something like this “But there are ppp’s everywhere.” Who knew that a ppp was a triple outlet? I still asked for more. I didn’t realize, either, that putting in the lighting I wanted would remove some of the graceful arch in the ceiling. Nor did I understand that the dimensions of the bathroom sink ate into the space for a shower, making it serpent-size.
Then there was the leak from a bathtub upstairs. Well, in Paris leaks are a daily occurrence if my circle of friends is any example. If you’re on the ground floor, the water seeps from the ground or the cave. If you’re anywhere else, it’s the roof, the cracks in the walls, the window casings, loose roof tiles. In my case, the leak is easily fixed, but the anguish has to do with the insurance company’s response, which is like molasses in January. Am I naïve to think it would move along quicker?
These issues are small potatoes in the face of fires in L.A., wars in way too many countries, border restrictions, hostages, and the accusations of regular inebriation in the ranks of the decision makers. I do understand this, deeply. But they are my potatoes right now.
And so I need distractions. It used to be that work took up all my time, but that was before selling a house and buying an apartment, so that now work is relegated to a welcome distraction. I spend many office hours making the eight billion phone calls required to activate (and re-activate) the insurance company, the co-propriété to get my name on the mailbox and the taxes regulated, the electric company to increase wattage, the post office to enquire about their dysfunctional system of forwarding mail. It now feels like a vacation to plan menus, write recipes, work on my novel, develop projects. And since all work and making too many phone calls makes one a dull person, I’m also visiting some of the wonders contained within this city.
I went to the Cathedral of Nôtre Dame the other night (you can walk in freely, without a reservation, after 8 p.m.) and amidst the forest of phones held high and the hubbub of laughter and exclamations, I was awestruck by the quality of renovation and restauration, my heart filled with admiration for all involved. The scent of woodsmoke from the burnt “forêt” that structured the roof, and which was replaced exactly as it had been, will take generations to fade away, as will, I think, the renewal of the sacred and divine feeling within this hallowed monument.
A visit to the Musée d’Orsay the other morning, as the guest of someone who has a pass that lets him in before anyone else, was astonishing. Imagine, that whole museum, just for us. I renewed my acquaintance with the greats like Rodin, Camille Claudel, and Bourdelle, Toulouse Lautrec and Félix Vallotin. And I was floored by the complex beauty of two new additions to the museum, polychrome sculptures by Charles Henri Joseph Cordier entitled ”Chinois” et “Chinoise”.
When it comes to mealtimes, well, it is scallop season and a thinly sliced one right out of the shell, drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with fleur de sel NEVER disappoints. So in these last days of apartment “travaux,” work will ground me, the occasional museum will fill my heart, a delicious meal will set things right, and then there is the evening cocktail.
This week, I’m turning to my friend and colleague Brian Boitano, Olympic gold medalist, food maven and now, creator of the Boitano Lounges in Nebraska and Kansas, who has a very European sensibility, and a masterful recipe for a White Negroni (what the French call “the French cousin of the Negroni.” ). It’s lively and elegant, and it brightens up the short days of winter, just like those little birds. Cocoa Nuts, a recipe inspired by another friend and colleague, David Lebovitz, is a perfect accompaniment to this, and a great ”amuse bouche” before your plate of raw scallops.
BRIAN BOITANO’S WHITE NEGRONI
Brian shakes up his white negroni with Gran Classico Bitters.
1.5 ounces Tanqueray gin
1 ounce Lillet Blanc
.25 ounce Suze
.25 Gran Classico Bitters
1. Stir all the ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice, then strain into your favorite glass.
Makes 1 White Negroni
COCOA-SPICED NUTS WITH FLEUR DE SEL
FRUITS SECS GRILLEES AU CACAO ET A LA FLEUR DE SEL
3 cups raw, very fresh mixed nuts
3 tablespoons (45g) unsalted butter
1 tablespoon lavender honey
1 tablespoon dark brown sugar
2 teaspoons unsweetened cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon hot paprika
Several grinds of black pepper, preferably Tellicherry
1 generous teaspoon Fleur de Sel
1. Preheat the oven to 350̊ F (180̊C).
2. Spread out the nuts on a baking sheet with a rim and bake until they begin to turn golden and smell toasty, about 10 minutes. Remove the nuts from the oven.
3. While the nuts are toasting, heat the butter with the honey and the brown sugar in a heavy-bottomed saucepan large enough to hold the nuts, over low heat, stirring so that the sugar dissolves. Whisk in the cocoa powder, cinnamon, hot paprika, and the pepper and immediately remove from the heat.
4. Add the lightly toasted nuts to the honey mixture. Mix them gently but thoroughly, using a rubber spatula, until the nuts are coated with the honey mixture and the cocoa nibs are thoroughly incorporated. Fold in the fleur de sel.
5. Evenly spread out the nuts in one layer on the baking sheet and return them to the oven. Bake until the nuts are golden, smell toasty, and the glaze is mostly dried and adhering to them, stirring once or twice, 8 to 10 minutes. Remove from the oven and let the nuts cool.
6. Once the nuts are cool, either serve immediately or store in an air-tight container. They will keep for about one week.
About 3 cups toasted, glazed nuts
