A Marais Jewish Day — Oct 4

Today is cooler, I can tell, simply by the open window in the kitchen and the cool air drifting in through it. Yesterday was a very full day and I hope I can recall all the details, before they blend together, like a nice creamy soup on a cool, autumn day.

The Marais is full of old buildings, from the medieval days, as well as being steeped in the Jewish history for many generations. After eating a light breakfast with charcuterie and chèvre, we began our walk. Our initial plan was to follow the Medieval Meanderings tour suggested in the Lonely Planet Paris guide. We walked by some historical buildings from the 1600’s. Some of these had beautiful gardens and of course we stopped to “smell the roses” and admire the colors of the flowers. The gardens really popped in the sunshine and I must not have been the only one who thought this, seeing the amount of people who were sitting in benches admiring the beauty before us.

Knowing the Holocaust Museum was just a few blocks away, we divert ourselves to see it. Outside it, were heavily armed officers with machine guns and we needed to pass through very strict, double-door security to get inside. The courtyard has a model of a chimney used at the concentration camps and engraved into it are the names of the camps. This leads to an area referred to as the Wall of Names. It is the names of about 75K people who were deported from France during WWII. Only 2,500 survived.

We went inside and saw some permanent exhibits, as well an exhibit on the Armenian genocide. There was some information brought to the light about the Vichy government in France and how they supported the Nazis. It was decades after WWII, actually not until 1995 before France officially as a nation admitted this. I believe the museum wants to raise awareness of human rights in general, in and above the Holocaust.

At the museum was a brochure about The Jewish Marais and we ended up using this as an itinerary for the day, instead of the Medieval Meanderings tour in the LP guide.

Within a few blocks, is a concentrated area with Jewish restaurants, libraries, organizations and gardens, named after Jewish people. Most of the food offerings were Israeli in nature, there were several falafel restaurants with lines of over a hundred people each. Amazing! I loved the fact that there were New York Jewish deli’s, names Schwartz’ Deli – I could have been a few miles from where I grew up. Pastrami sandwiches galore. We got some latkes which were divine. One was just potato and the other had meat in it.

The Jardin des Rosiers paid tribute to Joseph Migneret, who was the head of the neighboring school, which is now a library. The garden is maintained by a group of volunteers as an organic garden.  The school was the first Israelite school in Paris, started in 1819. In July of 1942, 165 people were rounded up from there and taken to the camps.

We also walked by an old temple, Oratoire Roger Fleishman, named after the son of the man who started the place of worship. There was another synagogue next to it, which has since been converted to a kosher pizza restaurant. I am not sure why, but going in there made me smile — I believe it was the fusion of the many cultures which gave birth to such a place.

Walking down the street, a Hassidic man came up to me, asking me if I was Jewish. I assumed I must look it, since he did not ask Dan if he was Jewish. It was the last day of Sukkot and he was carrying around a luluv and etrog. He handed me the traditional plants and we said the prayers and I shook the luluv in the 4 directions. We wished each other well and we were on our way.

The other museum which had been on our radar was the Jewish History Museum. It was a museum that was digestible in size, something that can often be overlooked in big cities in favor of the more famous ones. The items procured were from all over the world and spanned many centuries. For instance, a Torah that came from Asia and the engravings on the scribe that held it had designs typical in Asian art. Also, models of synagogues, also some from Asia, and architecturally they looked like a cross between a Buddhist and a Jewish temple.

There were stories of courageous Jewish women from the 1500’s and how they were running the industries of textiles and finance. Somethings never change.

Perhaps what grabbed my attention the most were the portraits of contemporary Jewish people, with stories and quotes next to them. The photographer had a gift for capturing the emotion in their faces. Sometimes it was the look in their eyes, sometimes it was the wrinkles in their face. The stories were varied and showed how some people are proud to display their religion, others are more prone to hiding it – but all of them embraced their heritage in a rich and meaningful way.

We could have stayed at this museum even longer, as I was endlessly intrigued by the clothing and intricate decorations that adorned menorahs, Torahs, and furniture — but there was a concert we wanted to get to, and so we headed off. Before doing so, we took a quick peek at the Anne Frank Garden behind the museum. The garden is named in her honor and in it are four chestnut trees, which make reference to the chestnut trees in her diary. I can only imagine, that the trees, their sturdy and resilient nature, gave her hope and strength.

We booked it to Saint-Eustache, a most beautiful Gothic church built in the 1500’s, very close to the train station I arrived at yesterday. Each Sunday, at 5:30pm, there is an organ recital. This is the largest organ in France and has 8000 pipes. If one has never heard an organ recital, or even if they have, they are in for a real treat. Hundreds of people sat in silence, and the haunting tunes filled the space, which is quite a feat, since the ceilings are so high. Hearing the music, with the colorful backdrop of the stained glass windows is something to behold. It went on for about 30 minutes, and afterwards the organ player received a well-deserved standing ovation. It was beautiful – I was transported somewhere else for a little while. If you get to Paris, put this on your TDL.

We were headed back to home to get ready for dinner, but taking our time and turning it into a purposeful stroll. We walked down Rue Montorgueil, which was once the oyster market and final stop from fisherman coming from Brittany and Normandy. It hosts an array of eateries, including the oldest confectionery in Paris. We had a small snack at a Lebanese place. Now this I found interesting. It is set up like a deli, with glass cases and trays of this and that. If you say you want to eat there, they make you order off the menu. It’s three times the price and you may not get exactly what you want. For example, they serve rice with the beef stuffed eggplant and maybe you don’t want the rice. After a few minutes of deliberating, we got what we wanted to go and found a bench to sit at and eat.

A bit more dilly dallying on our walk home and then we relaxed for a few minutes and got ourselves ready to go. Dinner was in the 16th arrondissement west of the Arc de Triomphe, which is in the 8th. We figured we would catch a cab on the main street, not far from home. It was a good idea, except all the cabs were full. They had red lights on top, instead of green. I guess everyone else was trying to get somewhere at the same time as well. So we headed for the subway. We got on the 11 line and realized it ended in just a couple stops. Then when we looked at the subway map, we realized we should have taken the 1 line. We could connect, but it was about ten minutes of booking it through tunnels and around bends to get there. I was dressed to the hilt and running through the subways in heels probably made for quite a spectacle. We took the 1 line and decided to link up to another subway line, which in theory would be quicker than our walking from the Arc de Triomphe. Running late, we tried to call the restaurant, and neither of our phones were working. Apparently, our phone servers were connecting to a French network that our phones didn’t like. Waiting eight minutes for the third subway to arrive was giving me ants in my pants, but there wasn’t much else we could do. We eventually got above ground and ran another two blocks and the maître d’hôtel greeted us with kindness.

Les Tablettes Jean-Louis Nomicos was a very different restaurant from Kei. We were attracted to it, because of the mixtures of influences. The chef grew up on Provence; he married an Italian woman; and he studied with Alain Ducasse. The restaurant had orange chairs and a woven ceiling and walls, much like the woven baskets people carry to market in Provence. At first, I was horrified to notice a man sitting nearby with his iPad out. Then the waitress brought us an iPad and we realized this was how the menu was presented. I am not quite sure what we thought of it, except that times are a’changin.

Now we are being food snobs and splitting hairs here, but the service was noticeably not as attentive as the impeccable servers at Kei last night. The crowd seemed a bit more relaxed as well.

Like last night, we chose the tasting menu. The degustation — the tasting menu – gives the chef a chance to showcase his skills and will result in the most creative food that the restaurant will serve.

The amuse bouche which was a roasted chestnut soup, with pureed mushrooms and a smattering of celery leaves, was warm and earthy and a fine introduction to the meal. This was followed by a wafer thin cracker with caramelized onions and confit sea bass with red mullet and squid. The plate was lined with dots of roasted red pepper and anchovy paste. This was an exquisitely prepared dish, the confit fish standing out as being full bodied and bold. By this point, and I give the staff credit, the service was on track. Perhaps they were just busy to start and it took them a few minutes to get in their groove.

The turbot fish, decorated with small clams, smoked potatoes (amazing!), fennel, and fish foam, overlaid with a squid ink in a veined design was interesting, as well as light.

The next dish was Jean-Louis’ signature dish. It is pasta, stuffed with vegetables, black truffles and foie gras, coated in a veal jus. He described his inspiration and process for this in great detail on his website. It was also on the a la carte menu for 51 euros. I concluded that this was the most expensive macaroni and cheese I had ever had, coming in at over six euros a noodle Yes, there were only eight noodles. I liked the dish. Not necessarily more than the other dishes, but I can see how each chef needs their claim to fame and this is it for Jean-Louis.

Following the mac and cheese, the next course of medium rare beef (perhaps 1-2 oz) with both an eggplant puree and strips of eggplant was very welcome. Eggplant, or aubergine, as it is referred to in Europe, is one of my favorite vegetables. There were also dots of pesto, and a hollow potato chip (think a hollow, three dimensional tear drop) and it was all coated with a jus, which was so expertly placed by the waitress, after the meal was at our table.

Next came the desserts. Like last night, the focus was on the fruit and not very sweet. I like this, as the sweet can be overwhelming. Also, the portions are so tiny that this is about a fifth of a dessert one would eat in the states. This dessert had a base of a blood orange gelee, topped with a bitter orange ice cream, a dollop of chestnut emulsion and decorated with a dried orange peel and an orange segment. The citrus theme was very cleansing, tart, and crisp. It was lovely. The waitress brought out one more petite dessert – a cocoa sorbet topped with a mascarpone cream and a mini chocolate soufflé. I only imbibed a little bit, as I don’t like to overdo it.

By the end of the meal, Jean-Louis had earned our respect as a fine chef. He is true to his Mediterranean roots and creates what may be a more casual ambiance for a Michelin starred restaurant, but his food and creativity is top notch.

We caught a cab back to the Marias and decided to go for an evening stroll. The cool fresh air felt good and honestly after sitting for three hours at dinner, we felt the need to move. We walked to Notre Dame and listened to a solitary guitar player do his thing sitting by the church doors. There were but a few people in the entire plaza and that in and of itself is a rare treat. Every direction we turned, was another regal building. The ornate stonework is truly a work of art, in the finest sense. We walked around Notre Dame to admire the flying buttresses, the first building to be built with such advanced engineering for its time.

The way home brought us past other churches, that were they not be in close proximity to Notre Dame, would be landmarks as well. But since Paris is so full of old, intricate buildings, they were simply just other churches.

Glancing down at our clock, we noted it was after 1am, and we best be getting some rest, for tomorrow is another day.