Today’s glorious weather, under this endlessly blazing sun, made it a choice day for being outside.
In fact my early morning started well, even if with just one eye open: a surprise song on Europe1 sung by Vanessa Paradis. She is not my favorite pop star, but she really nailed it in her recording of Cole Porter’s ‘I Love Paris,’ with a great orchestration to boot. Her American/French accent was spot on when she sang “I love Paris, when it SIZZLES…” All of Porter’s sophistication with just the right balance of naïve charm and naughtiness.
It was now high noon, and the sky above me promised good things with a seemless, deep blue. For starters, our weekly lunches have picked up again at ‘Chartier,’ the Paris monument to gastronomy and good humor. Walking in there today, this time like each time, made me feel like I’d come back to the Harmonia Gardens as Dolly Gallagher Levi.
After my very correct bœuf bourgignon and a dessert of fraises Melba (a seasonal twist on the famous peach dessert of soprano fame, with the obligatory whipped cream), I had another errand to run, a bit further up in the rue des Martyrs. My itinerary took me past where Offenbach lived and composed, and in fact seems never to have left, on a charmingly uphill street, today full of countless young people seated at upscale sidewalk cafés, and lined with flowering trees of bright pink.
This is all in the 9th arrondissement, the historically rich environment surrounding the Paris Opéra. With its charm and typical architecture, one is always uplifted to walk in the steps of the entire French Romantic movement, Berlioz and that gang. It’s where the poets Lamartine and Alfred de Musset lived, and where Chopin, George Sand and Delacroix all crossed paths. There’s the rue Rossini of course. And it’s still where you find countless, well-known theaters, all readying for their reopenings this fall.
The beaming sunlight on the Art Deco façade of the ‘Folies Bergère’ stopped me in my tracks. I recall reading wonderfully louche episodes that take place here in Guy de Maupassant’s ‘Bel-Ami,’ and then as I gazed upwards, found myself imagining what it was like to be there to see and hear greats like Maurice Chevalier, or Gabin, or Trenet, or Fernandel, or see the legendary Mistinguett or Josephine Baker as they reigned in the world of Vaudeville.
If I’m lucky, next week it’ll be back again for lunch ‘chez Chartier,’ with the bustle of its charming waiters in long white aprons, and there I can lift another thankful glass of Lillet to all of these legends, and maybe even to Vanessa Paradis.
I love Paris, when it SIZZLES…