The Man of the Place has been working again and I find myself truly appreciating Saturdays. This morning, though much, much too early we awoke to find the earth covered in gray clouds and much needed rain.
Surely now the pole beans will produce!
But this morning my mind was not in my Potager. It was in Paris.
How I love Paris.
How I miss Paris.
Five years and counting but the smell of diesel still makes me swoon and a dreary rainy morning puts me right on the Boulevard Montparnasse, watching the resident cat and laying aside my ridiculous desire to charm that one cranky waiter who works under the awning at…
Le Select.
I love Paris when it drizzles.
Le Select is an old Hemingway haunt but never mind that. It’s an old Parisienne Farmgirl haunt and on rainy, drizzly mornings it haunts both myself and The Man of the Place. We can almost feel the buttery croissants between our fingers and taste the best chocolat chaud on that side of town. None of those little wussy cups that leave us fat and sassy Americans longing for more. At Le Select you can order a private little pitcher of hot chocolate to sugar yourself silly. Avec Chantilly, mais bien sur.

This morning a little memory making was in order – Stateside. And I thought a Franco-American breakfast would do the trick. So, with every window in the house open to hear and enjoy the drizzly Parisian rain we enjoyed scrambled eggs and bacon (for the American in us) and sliced and toasted (longways of course) baguette with freshly homemade Lemon Curd and Confiture de Myrtilles. Blueberry Jam.

On Pandora we enjoyed Claire de Lune (Parisian type jazz not Debussy) and with a piping hot French Press the stage was set.
When visiting Paris many café’s will advertise “American Breakfasts” but promise me you will never order one. Instead, head on over to Le Select and order a typical French breakfast of fresh croissant, baguettes, jams and café au lait or chocolate chaud. Bring your notepad and try to have a Hemingway moment or sit and enjoy some of the best people watching in town.
Pardon the photo quality – all my Paris photos are prints – pre-digital and I just can’t bare to get out the scanner so I just take photographs of my photographs. Nerdy, I know.