Half way home

Just getting back to Paris made us feel better. It’s amazing to me how comfortable we have come to feel here. In many ways it’s an alternate “home”, you know, the place you feel secure, where if something goes wrong it doesn’t throw you into a mono-lingual tizzy, trying to figure out how to cope. In Florence we had wanted very much to be going home. Arriving in Paris we wanted to stay. It didn’t hurt that it was a gorgeous day, pleasantly warm and breezy.

We did some errands, made arrangements to meet Martine and her daughter Virginie at the opening of an art exhibit and Odile later for dinner at Les Petites Sorcières. This is the latest restaurant by Ghislaine Arabian, a Michelin starred chef who opens and closes restaurants on a whim. I’d never gotten to one before it was closed again. The food was excellent, croquettes of crevettes grises with crisped fried parsley, several delicious fish I'd never heard of including maigre and mérou, a modern version of petit salé with lentils de Puy, and what looked like a great dessert list. But it took over an hour to begin to be served and the service was practically non-existent. If you go, keep that in mind. If it's still open.

A walk home through the warm night and so to bed. Tomorrow we're really going home.