Polaroids from Paris: {Tous dans le moulage}

One thing I always look at when ever I enter a Parisian apartment is the molding.

Some residences have a simple border, while others are embellished with the most intricate little carvings. I admire both, especially since my small studio is lacking either.

Since Paris is in a frigid mood, and the air is bitter with freezing temperatures I am trying to embrace the aesthetic of the warm indoors. 

Bisous,

Reba

Polaroids from Paris: {From France to Georgia, more}

Came across this little tea-set in a small town near the France-Switzerland-Germany border.

I thought it was rather sweet along with this creamer and sugar bowl.

One thing I have come to realize is sugar cubes are preferred over loose sugar.

I continued to browse, and I came across these little ceramic crayfish-bowls, and a larger bowl to serve some sort of tuna dish. 

And for good measure:

A recipe for Crawfish Etoufee
Bon weekend à tous!

Bisous,

Reba

Polaroids from Paris: {Manger Mexicain}

I think being an American automatically means that we are prone to having withdrawal from Mexican food, or even in some cases just simple Tex-Mex. The combination of beans, rice, cilantro, and avocados are lacking here in Paris. It appears that the French consider a burrito to be the same thing as a wrap, which is usually served cold. It just doesn't work. So one evening, with an already full stomach, Renee and I were planning out our next meal. It has been that kind of week.
 We were reminiscing to each other about our lives state-side, and a common theme was our longing to hold and indulge in a tasty burrito. I did the research instantly, and wrote out the plan in my little red agenda.
We were determined to find the place that had the ingredients for the combination mentioned above, and who served it right.
I invited another friend, Melissa, a legitimate Mexican herself, who knows all about tortillas. I went over to her apartment one day, and discovered she owned a tortilla press to make her own. So I figured her opinion would be valuable. We all headed toward the canal, and there it was, pocketed away; what Renee said, "in all of it's purple glory." A teeny-tiny establishment, that we barely all fit in. Once we entered, the scents were mesmerizing, and we all knew instantly that we had found our place that will appease our cravings.
El Nopal
3 rue Eugene Varlin
75010
Paris, France

Bisous,

Reba 

Polaroids from Paris: {From France to Georgia}

Making their selves a place somewhere at The Paris Market, are these old wartime newspapers I found while on holiday. The format of each one is large and rather dense of the current happenings in France from the early 1900's. There are many stories surrounding the World War that was occurring at the time. It's a rather curious thing to consider the way media once was, and compare it to how it is now.

After flipping through one in particular, I was actually shocked by the level of censorship. It was amazing to see what had been printed back then in order to show the reader the actuality of the events.

I also find myself constantly intrigued by old books and old paper. Worn and yellow, with softer edges which decrease the possibility of paper-cuts. I love the scent the glue takes on. The scent of antiquity.

So if any of you are in Savannah.

Check 'em out. 

Bisous,

Reba

Polaroids from Paris: {Free Crepes and Carousel Rides}

Winter-blues can be a bore. With grey skies and  heavy rain, I hate admitting this; but, such feelings can surface even while in Paris. Though the city takes on a rather somber mood throughout, I discover that such a sullen state can be unexpectedly brightened just from a simple stroll along the street. Laure and I were happy to change our normal route home, and we found ourselves distracted by a new scent coming from the corner sidewalk. With a crowd of nannies, mothers, and children we found ourselves happy with free crepes and carousel rides.

Bisous,

Reba

Polaroids from Paris: {Deyrolle, L'Art de la Taxidermie}

"Who else has chickens, We Do!"

Along the rue du Bac on the left bank, there resides the great taxidermy salon Deyrolle. Originally owned by Jean-Baptiste Deyrolle, Emile, the grandson eventually took over.

Although, the salon/store/museum went through a severe fire, the collection remains vast and intriguing.

To look a polar bear in the eye, to be face to face with an enormous yak, and to measure height next to a giraffe can be rather exhilarating. Though it may be controversial, I look at it from a learning perspective, with an eye of fascination and appreciation.

Deyrolle

46 rue de Bac

75007 Paris, France

Bisous,

Reba

Polaroids from Paris: {Le Loir dans la Théière}

Weekend brunch.

Fresh squeezed orange juice.

Honey, Emmental, Pine-nut quiche.

Warm and cozy in a make-shift, charming interior.

Alice in Wonderland influences all throughout.

And the best lemon meringue, ever.

Sincerely.

I think the last photo says more than I could possible type.

Another wonderful establishment Le Marais has to offer.

Le Loir dans la Théière

3 Rue des Rosiers
75004 Paris, France

Bisous,

Reba

Polaroids from Paris: {Cursive as an Art Form}

Apparently cursive writing is taught properly here in France. From my understanding, there is a right way and a wrong way to write cursive letters. I recall my elementary school days where we had cursive writing practices on large pads of paper. I remember wanting to write a cursive "T" different than how we were instructed, one of my classmates discovered my rebellious act and told on me. My teacher came over to look at my "T" and let me continue as I pleased. But as far as I have collected, the same scenario would have been much different had I gone to school here in France.

For example, the little girl I watch actually cried when she discovered that my cursive was not done properly. Another example comes from another au-pair friend of mine, she was reprimanded from her little girl when she was caught breaking the cursive rules. We both got on this subject while we were in this little stationary store. All sorts of fountain pens with an array of different tips, a variety of colored inks, and many types of paper to write on. There was this pretty little book filled with exercises to improve one's cursive. I don't know if the adult world is different from the school-child's world here in France, but I do know that cursive seems to be a whole other art form from the kid's perspective.

Bisous,

Reba

Polaroids from Paris: {Je prends le métro...for now}

I am trying to follow through with all of this year's resolutions that I have made for myself. One of those resolutions is to become familiar with the bus routes. I recall about the few taxi rides I've taken while living in Paris, and looking out the windows was always such a delight. The only reason why I could think of exiting was my meter ticking and my money sparse. So for the same price as it is to take the metro, buses offer that little advantage to continue people watching while being transported through the city. Consider this a pledge-post to follow through with my resolutions, an au revoir to my metro dependence, and movement towards more people-watching, one of my favorite activities in Paris, second to eating, of course. 

Bisous,

Reba