Once again we slept in and I brought back cafe Au lait and pastries. Raisin roll for Helen, almond croissant 🥐 for me. We decided since the sun was partially out, to do the Champs-Élysées thing today. It was the best weather we’d had and unbeknownst to us, the museums were all on strike anyway (they were not on our itinerary).

Managing to get the metro over to the river, we walked across beautiful gallant Alexander Bridge. The sun shone bright on the gold statuary…breathtaking.

We enjoyed walking along the famed, crowded, commercialized Champs. There was an Orchid Show from Singapore 🇸🇬 along the Boulevard. Clear tents were set up displaying the pink, violet and yellow, white delicate flowers in mini-greenhouses with banners on both sides of the Avenue.

Soon it became time to locate a wine/ lunch pause. Wandering down a side boulevard, we settled down in a class lunch brasserie bar restaurant. First of all, we definitely ordered a cold bottle of Chardonnay, as we hadn’t seen it since we’ve been there. That got us off to the right start.

Taking our leisure, we perused the menu. Helen felt stuck ordering grilled chicken and tates, since she could get them at home. I myself wasn’t being very adventurous either, as Helen pointed out, ordering a salad with almonds, albeit and goat cheese. I mentioned the prospect of “foie gras” to her, as it was listed on the menu under appetizers. We discussed it, both not knowing, what exactly is it… but feeling that it would be nice to try, since it’s so famous.

I did my ordering, braving the unknown, and Helen before I knew it, had done the same. We shook on it and we’re quite pleased with ourselves! Well…when it arrived it didn’t look like much more than some greens and a tomato rose garnishing, as Helen quite accurately put it, “with some liverwurst,” I believe she said. At least we agreed, we had the nice wine to wash it down.

First we waited a while, as we didn’t know the proper way to eat it, and were waiting for our friendly, obliging waiter to demonstrate for us. Which he did, breaking off a piece of toast, scooping up some Fois gras, and popping it into his mouth. A small piece ie “petite” no fork necessary. Use the hands is okay!

Well heck, we could do that, and do we did! We lingered over the Fois gras, having more toast, and sipping the Chardonnay, keeping an eye on all passersby. Sitting inside, we were right next to the window on the sidewalk. There, once again, we cleared the place out. The bustling lunch crowd turned into a few lingering tables and our busy waiter was relegated to sweeping 🧹 the floor.

Tuesday 8 June, 1999