Paris In New York

Time Out New York - Best French Spots In NY

I am interrupting my vacation for this little bulletin. This is written direct from the island of Corsica, called Ile de Beauté for the amazing turquoise water and its unspoiled nature.

With my IPad and irregular wifi connection, I am trying to tell you about some interesting infos I received. Time Out New York just issued a special France story with "Best New York Spots To Shop for French Clothing, Beauty and Homegoods" In the July 14th édition. 

POUR LA MODE
See photos and products at Time Out New York 

Le Grand Strip
Formerly known as Fille de Joie, this recently renamed Williamsburg store is filled with racks of vintage duds that owner C.C. McGurr discovers largely on trips to France. The garments tend toward the funky and over-the-top (we recently spotted an ’80s crochet romper for $60 and a ’50s fur-trimmed evening gown tagged $220), and are organized by color. Head farther back and you’ll find yourself in a ladies’ boudoir, complete with a metal-framed bed, antique velvet couches, and a rack of vintage lingerie featuring such pieces as a ruffled cotton tank from the 1800s ($275), pink silk stockings ($35) and gingham bloomers ($65). Mention TONY for 10 percent off all purchases through August 15. 197 Grand St between Bedford and Driggs Aves, Williamsburg, Brooklyn (718-599-3525, legrandstrip.com)

Ludivine
Ask any chic French woman how she achieves that certain je ne sais quoi, and she’ll likely tell you that her closet is filled with well-cut basics in luxe fabrics. This pair of boutiques, run by Provencal native Ludivine Grégoire, will set you up with simple but elegant pieces from usually hard-to-find French labels like Maison Michel, Denis Colomb and Stouls. Expect a well-edited—though pricey—selection of effortless, timeless items, including Vanessa Bruno lightweight cardigans ($160), Carven sheer-front and striped-back tanks ($270) and Notify supersoft bell-bottom jeans ($260). Finishing touches include K.Jacques strappy leather sandals ($245), Stephanie Jewels delicate gold earrings ($145) and Nuxe lip balm for perfecting that French pout ($21). 172 W 4th St at Jones St (646-336-6576) • 1216 Lexington Ave between 82nd and 83rd Sts (212-249-4053) • boutiqueludivine.com.

Rue St. Denis 
Before used garments were all the rage, French expat Jean-Paul Buthier opened his Upper West Side vintage boutique in 1990, which was inspired by his days of thrifting on Paris’s Rue St. Denis when he was a teen. The shop has since migrated south to the East Village, and it carries a large selection of dead-stock pieces that Buthier sources from recently closed stores and warehouses across France and the U.S. Guys will be happy to hear that 70 percent of the stock is men’s, so they can snag French plaid button-ups from the ’80s ($30–$45) and a ’60s three-quarter-length rain jacket ($135). There’s even a vast, meticulously organized suit room in the back, where you’ll discover a ’70s Pierre Cardin velvet style ($380) or ’60s double-breasted numbers ($340–$440). The double-breasted suits tend to be cut boxier than other items here, since they’ve never been worn, but one of the in-house seamstresses can tailor your purchase to your liking (starting at $20, hemming is free). Over on the ladies’ side, look for a ’70s Cacharel polka-dot blouse ($65), a ’40s embroidered blazer ($285) and a bevy of ’60s and ’70s Indian cotton flowing dresses ($85–$95). 170 Ave B between 10th and 11th Sts (212-260-3388,vintagenyc.com)

POUR LA BEAUTE

See photos and products at Time Out New York

Caudalie Vinothérapie Spa 
This upscale haven combines two of life’s stress-relieving pleasures: wine and spa treatments. Husband and wife Mathilde and Bertrand Thomas founded the first Caudalie spa on their family vineyard in Bordeaux in 1999, and have since opened seven locations in other wineries across the globe (this location in the Plaza Hotel being the only urban one). Caudalie’s treatments often utilize grape seeds, stems or skins for their antioxidant and skin-firming properties; reap the benefits of Mother Nature in services such as the Crushed Cabernet scrub (35 minutes, $145), during which a mixture of grape seeds, honey and brown sugar is used to slough off dry skin, or the Wine Maker’s Massage (50 minutes, $185), in which you’ll be gently prodded with a traditional winemaker’s smooth wooden stick. Posttreatment, recline on the leather couches of the wine lounge, where you can nibble on assorted cheese from midtown bistro Artisanal ($18–$25) and sip a glass of bordeaux ($10) from the Thomas family winery, Les Hauts de Smith. Mention TONY for 10 percent off all services through August 15. The Plaza Hotel, 1 W 58th St at Fifth Ave, fourth floor (212-265-3182, caudalie-usa.com)

Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle 
The grandson of Parfums Christian Dior founder Serge Heftler, owner Frédéric Malle worked as a fragrance consultant before realizing that perfumers had no creative freedom in the commercial world. In 2000, Editions de Parfums was born as a way for perfumers to create amazing scents without financial or creative restrictions. Malle doesn’t make perfumes himself but instead oversees a group of nine top French perfumers, who create whatever scents strike their fancy, such as Edmond Roudnitska’s Le Parfum de Thérèse (a tribute to his wife that smells of leather and fruits, $250) and Jean-Claude Ellena’s Angéliques sous la Pluie, redolent of rain ($180). The space was designed by French architect Patrick Naggar to resemble an Art Deco apartment, with fine art prints on the walls and some of the furniture that Malle inherited from his grandparents scattered throughout. In addition to 100-milliliter bottles of the fragrances ($180–$320) in their liquid form, you can also purchase any of the scents as a lotion ($85–$95) or shower gel ($70). Nifty rubber inserts that smell of freshly burned Indian incense ($105) will help freshen up your closet or sock drawer. 898 Madison Ave between 72nd and 73rd Sts (212-249-7941,fredericmalle.com)

L’Institut Sothys 
Located on Paris’s ultrafashionable Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, the original L’Institut Sothys spa made a name for itself by offering luxe European-style facials, which are heavy on face and neck massaging. You can indulge in the classic deep-cleansing treatment (60 minutes, $115) at Sothys’s midtown location—the only one outside of Paris. Slip into a plush robe and sip a gratis cappuccino, before heading up the swooping staircase to one of the ten treatment rooms, where a full range of spa services—including an hour-long detoxifying mineral-and-salt scrub and body wrap ($135), and a Hydroptimale hydrating facial (75 minutes, $175) that features a moisturizing face mask—are performed. There are also a handful of nail stations downstairs for getting a spa manicure ($48), which is pricey but lasts up to two weeks. Mention TONY for 20 percent off all full-price facials through August 31. 37 W 57th St between Fifth and Sixth Aves (212-688-9400, sothyspa.com)

POUR LA MAISON

See photos and products at Time Out New York

D. Porthault 
This high-end Parisian brand has been hand-printing bedsheets, towels and tablecloths since 1927. Started by lingerie boutique owner Daniel Porthault and his wife, Madeline, the company was the first linens label to produce printed or colorful sheets, at a time when everyone else was making plain white bedclothes. D. Porthault now has an archive of 10,000 prints, including bold flowers, cheeky stars and country-inspired vines, which you’ll find on queen-size sheet sets ($950–$2,650), girly boudoir shams ($165–$275) and fluffy terrycloth towels ($140–$345). Those without très grand budgets can still snag simple embroidered place-mat and napkin sets ($125–$275), colorful cotton voile handkerchiefs ($40) and lavender sachets for sprucing up dresser drawers ($22–$55). Mention TONY for 10 percent off all purchases through August 13. 470 Park Ave at 58th St (212-688-1660, dporthault.com)

 Madura 
Think of this Parisian brand—which has 36 stores worldwide—as a French version of Crate & Barrel. The 40-year-old company carries a range of home goods, including lacquered end tables ($318) and suede storage boxes ($38–$58), but it is best known for its customizable window curtains that come in an array of punchy solids and prints, like a laser-cut bright stencil version ($138–$158) and a neutral linen style ($98–$458). You’ll also find pillow covers to mix and match, including an embroidered taffeta option ($46). 1162 Madison Ave at 86th St (212-327-2681, madurahome.com)

 Maison 140
The son of a Better Homes and Gardens editor, owner Ramsey Marc has perfected the French country-cottage look in his well-curated home-design and gift shop. The cozy, worn-wood–floored bazaar is filled to the brim with items that balance traditional French-inspired decor and modern chic housewares. The majority of the stock is imported from France, including Sabre’s candy-colored acrylic flatwear ($5–$40) and Provence artist Heidi Caillard’s signature guinea hen sculptures ($129–$169). Everything else is either French-inspired or made in Europe, such as striped linen dish towels by Belgian brand Libeco ($13–$25 each) and Vancouver artist Sid Dickens’s plaster-covered collectible wood wall tiles depicting French iconography ($84). Mention TONY for 10 percent off all purchases (excluding Heidi Caillard and Sid Dickens items) through July 30. 140 Ninth Ave at 19th St (212-255-0022, maison140nyc.com)

 

New York or Paris: Une Bonne question...

Which one do YOU prefer ???

Beauty or Energy ? Pleasure or Success ? Plat du Jour or Trend of the Moment ? Macaron or Cupcake ?...

Amy Thomas, a contributor to Hip Paris Blog and also writer in God I Love Paris, tries cracking a big dilemma on whether she prefers to live in Paris or New York. 

" Paris is dazzling. All you need to do is watch a Godard film or see a Doisneau poster to know that. But to actually walk the streets—with the Plane trees and cobblestones; the rose-tinted street lamps, green bookstalls and golden limestone facades—well, the French know a little something about seduction, don’t they.

But in New York, you’re swept away by everything and everyone around you: pedestrians, taxis, buses, street vendors, blinking neon signs, little dogs, big dogs, and, oh the freaks everywhere! To walk the streets of New York is to know what it means to feel alive...more "

Charlotte Gainsbourg or Carrie Bradshaw? (r9M;Sion Fullana)

French Women are exhausted..."In France, you are expected to do it all..."

I'd like to share with you this article from the New York Times that echoes what my friends in Paris tell me about their work and family life experience:

"Where Having It All Doesn’t Mean Having Equality

By KATRIN BENNHOLD

Could there be anything more French than this workout? 

Weeks after giving birth, French women are offered a state-paid, extended course of vaginal gymnastics, complete with personal trainer, electric stimulation devices and computer games that reward particularly nimble squeezing. The aim, said Agnes de Marsac, a physiotherapist who runs such sessions: “Making love again soon and making more babies.”

Perineal therapy is as ubiquitous in France as free nursery schools, generous family allowances, tax deductions for each child, discounts for large families on high-speed trains, and the expectation that after a paid, four-month maternity leave mothers are back in shape — and back at work.

Courtesy of the state, French women seem to have it all: multiple children, a job and, often, a figure to die for..."

See the rest of the article

Stéphane Lavoué for The International Herald Tribune

A Gourmand tour of Paris with the NY Times...Bon Appetit !

Liberty, Equality, Gastronomy: Paris via a 19th-Century Guide 

By TONY PERROTTET

Published: November 22, 2009

A marvelous painting of a gourmand at his table hangs in the Musée Carnavalet in Paris — a portly, pink-faced figure happily gorging on a regal casserole, with a bottle of wine at one elbow and a luscious-looking soufflé at the other. It is traditionally believed to be a portrait of Alexandre-Balthazar-Laurent Grimod de la Reynière, an aristocrat notorious in Napoleonic France for gratifying his palate with the same abandon as his contemporary the Marquis de Sade showed in indulging carnal desires. Whether or not the painting is actually Grimod’s likeness, it captures the eccentric, omnivorous spirit that made him not only a gustatory symbol in the Paris of his day, but the grand-père of all modern food writers as well.

Starting in 1803, Grimod, whose family fortune had largely been lost during the Revolution, financed his voracious appetite by writing a series of best-selling guidebooks to the culinary wonders of Paris — its famous delicatessens, pâtissiers and chocolatiers — including the first reviews of an alluring new institution called le restaurant. His Almanachs des Gourmands were something new, the Michelins and Zagats of his era, and their offbeat style reflects the author’s larger-than-life character. Grimod was born in 1758 with deformed hands, one a birdlike talon and the other a webbed pincer. But he was not one to be held back, so he had learned to write — and dine — with metal prostheses. A social butterfly, he became a successful theater critic in Paris before the Revolution, survived the Terror and amused himself later by hosting literary salons in the cafes. And, of course, eating.

It was on the trail of Grimod one day last summer that I passed through the vaulted arches of the Palais Royal, opposite the north wing of the Louvre, and into a vast, empty courtyard. In Grimod’s day, the Palais Royal was the heart and soul of Paris, a rowdy entertainment center filled with brothels and sideshows that, despite its louche ambience, also boasted some of his favorite specialty food stores and restaurants.

For me, it was the first stop in what would become a week of wandering the modern city armed with a map on which I had marked streets mentioned by Grimod. One of the most exciting things about the Almanachs is that they include detailed gastronomic walking tours of Paris, called “nutritional itineraries” — each one a vivid window onto the past. 

(....) [read the whole article]

Fortunately, on my last day in Paris, the past and present seamlessly met, and for a change the restaurant seemed to come to me. I was strolling the Rue St.-Honoré near the site of another long-gone boulangerie when I noticed a tiny row of medieval structures attached to the Church of St.-Roch. One hole-in-the-wall turned out to be a minuscule restaurant complete with original pot-cluttered kitchen. It was called La Cordonnerie (the Shoemaker’s) and, according to the blackboard, it served cuisine de marché, fresh market food. I had accidentally hit pay dirt: the fantasy of a charming French boîte.

There were fewer than 20 seats in this intimate space, which dated from 1690, with blackened beams against the low white ceiling. The chef was a maestro in his cramped workplace, preparing alone the day’s menu of foie gras in homemade chocolate sauce and roast pork with field mushrooms. He was also the owner, I later learned, having inherited the restaurant from his parents.

I eagerly took a seat in the farthest corner, ordered without restraint, as Grimod might have done, and chatted, between sips of muscadet, with an elderly couple at a nearby table. They said they lived around the corner on the Rue St.-Honoré and came here at least once a week to enjoy the fresh market fare. “Always the full three courses at lunch,” giggled Madame. “Then a nap — and no dinner!”

I felt sure that Grimod must have eaten here at some time or another. He certainly would have approved of the setting. Of one of his favorite restaurants, Le Gacque’s, he wrote: “His salons are nothing sumptuous, but the cuisine is good, the wines excellent, and the prices moderate.” Plus, there was a friendly, unobtrusive staff.

Of course, a gourmand’s work is never done, at least not in Paris. After coffee, I had my guidebook in hand. Now if only I could find Sulleaux’s confectionery store, for some of his legendary petits fours. ...

THE REVOLUTION, HE ATE HIS WAY THROUGH IT

WHERE TO EAT

Le Grand Véfour, 17, rue de Beaujolais, 75001; 33-1-42-96-56-27; www.grand-vefour.com.

Au Rocher de Cancale, 78, rue Montorgueil, 75002; 33-1-42-33-50-29; www.aurocherdecancale.fr.

Le Procope, 13, rue de l’Ancienne Comédie, 75006; 33-1-40-46-79-00; www.procope.com.

Lapérouse, 51, Quai des Grands-Augustins, 75006; 33-1-56-79-24-31; www.laperouse.fr.

La Cordonnerie, 20, rue St.-Roch, 75001; 33-1-42-60-17-42.

WHERE TO SHOP

Mustards: Maille, 8, Place de la Madeleine, 75008; 33-1-40-15-06-00; www.maille.us.

Chocolates: Debauve & Gallais, 30, rue des Saints-Pères, 75007; 33-1-45-48-54-67; www.debauve-et-gallais.com.

Pâtisserie: Stohrer, 51, rue Montorgueil, 75002; 33-1-42-33-38-20; www.stohrer.fr.

Gastronomic literature: Librairie Rémi Flachard, 9, rue du Bac, 75007; 33-1-42-86-86-87.

WHERE TO STAY

The Hôtel de Crillon (10, Place de la Concorde, 75008; 33-1-44-71-15-00; www.crillon.com), offering over-the-top luxury, stands right next to the site of Grimod’s family mansion, now occupied by the building that houses the United States Embassy. Doubles from 770 euros (about $1,180 at $1.53 to the euro).

The Hôtel de la Bretonnerie (22, rue Sainte-Croix-de-la-Bretonnerie, 75004; 33-1-48-87-77-63; www.bretonnerie.com) in the Marais district operates in a restored 18th-century hôtel particulier, or private mansion, with exposed wooden beams and a magnificent wooden staircase that creaks at every step. Doubles from 135 euros.

WHAT TO READ

Almanach des Gourmands by Grimod de la Reynière. Paper copies are rare, but scans can now be found on Googlebooks.

“The Invention of the Restaurant: Paris and Modern Gastronomic Culture” by Rebecca L. Spang (Harvard University Press, 2000).

TONY PERROTTET is the author of "Napoleon’s Privates." His next book, about the underground Grand Tour in the Victorian era, will be published by Broadway Books.

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This is a great article that captures very well the atmosphere of Paris. If you feel nostalgic suddenly, I would recommend you to do your own Paris Tour in New York.

Here are few ideas for you :

. Debauve et Gallais

20 East 69th street. www.debauveandgallais.com

. Maille Mustard

at Food Emporium, Citarella, Fairway. www.maille.com

. La Bergamote Patisserie

169 9th Avenue. www.labergamotenyc.com

. Silver Moon Bakery

2740 Broadway Avenue @105th. www.silvermoonbakery

. Pastis Restaurant

9 9th avenue. www.pastisny.com

. Le Paris

1312 Madison Avenue @93rd St (look at my post on Carnegie Hill. November 10th)

. Balthazar

80 Spring Street. www.balthazarny.com

Read in the New York Times : Paris - Le tour du Chocolat

By AMY THOMAS

Published in the New York Times: December 14, 2008

THE French have elevated many things to high art: fashion, flirting, foie gras. Chocolate is no exception. With boutiques that display truffles as rapturously as diamonds, the experience of visiting a Parisian chocolatier can be sublime.

The problem, of course, is squeezing in as many of these indulgent visits as possible while also giving the rest of the city its due. My solution: devote one full day to chocolate boutiques, and do it in style. So, on my last visit to Paris, I took to the city’s Vélib’ bike system and mastered a two-wheeled circuit of eight of the chocolatiers that had the best reputations and most glowing reviews in city guidebooks and online message boards. It was exhilarating and exhausting, not to mention decadent. It was a chocoholic’s dream ride.

The Vélib’s — industrial-looking road bikes that are already icons of Parisian-chic just a year and a half after the city initiated the program — made the moveable feast more fun. Progressing from pralines to pavés, I spun by the Eiffel Tower, zipped across the Seineand careened through the spindly streets of St.-Germain-des-Prés alongside other bikers: Parisians in summer dresses and business suits, their front baskets toting briefcases, baguettes and sometimes even Jack Russell terriers.

Practically speaking, the bikes were all but essential. How else could I cover five arrondissements in as many hours, while simultaneously countering a day of debaucherous extremes?

The hedonism began in the center of town with the oldest master on my list, Michel Cluizel (201, rue St.-Honoré; 33-1-42-44-11-66; www.chocolatmichelcluizel-na.com), who has been making chocolate since 1948. A short distance from a Vélib’ station at the intersection of Rues de l’Echelle and St-Honoré, I passed luxury stores flaunting billowy gowns and four-inch Mary Janes and stepped inside what was just as divine: a store where molten chocolate spews from a fountain and the shelves are stocked with bars containing as much as 99 percent cacao.

Mr. Cluizel has a single American outpost, in Manhattan, at which I’ve indulged in hot cocoa made with a blend of five cocoa beans. At his Parisian shop, managed by his daughter Catherine, I discovered the macarolat (1.55 euros, or about $2 at $1.29 to the euro). A chocolate version of the macaroon, it has a dark chocolate shell filled with almond and hazelnut praline, the nuts ground coarsely to give a rich, grainy texture. It was two bites that combined creamy and crunchy, snap and subtlety. But it was just two bites; I wanted more.

A quick spin west landed me at the doors of Jean-Paul Hévin (231, rue St-Honoré, (33-1-55-35-35-96; www.jphevin.com). A modern blend of dark wood cabinetry, slate floors and backlit wall cubbies where cobalt-accented boxes of bonbons are displayed, the space would feel intimidating if not for the shopkeepers, who are both numerous and gracious as they juggle the crowds ogling mango coriander macaroons and Pyramide cakes. After considerable debate — would it be ridiculously gluttonous to have a “choco passion,” a cocoa cake with chocolate mousse, chocolate ganache and praline puff pastry, so early in the day? — I settled on a caramel bûche (3.20 euros). Larger than an individual bonbon but smaller than a Hershey bar, the silky caramel enrobed in delicate dark chocolate hit the sweet spot.

With the choco-salty taste lingering on my tongue, I picked up a bike outside the Hôtel Costes, craning my neck to spy any A-listers — were Sting and Trudie in there? Beyoncé and Jay-Z? — and set out for the 16th Arrondissement.

Just beyond the Place de la Concorde I veered onto Avenue Gabriel. It is a curving street that winds past both the United States Embassy and Pierre Cardin’s showcase for young artists, Espace, before eventually turning into a narrow cafe-lined passage where you have to weave around double-parked delivery trucks. Hoping to avoid throngs of wide-eyed tourists on the parallel Champs-Élysées and cars haphazardly zigging and zagging on the rotary around the Arc de Triomphe, I took the residential backstreets to Avenue Victor Hugo.

It was on this street that I found the most eccentric chocolatier on my list: Patrick Roger (45,avenue Victor Hugo; 33-1-45-01-66-71; www.patrickroger.com). It’s not just the chocolate sculptures (a life-size farmer, for example), seasonal window displays (a family of penguins, also life-size) or snazzy aquamarine packaging he’s known for: his intensely flavored bonbons are as bold as they come.

“I do think Patrick Roger is outstanding since he combines new, unusual flavors,” said David Lebovitz, an American chocolate connoisseur, author of “The Great Book of Chocolate” and a Paris resident. But, he added, Mr. Rogers “isn’t doing weird flavors just to be trendy, like others tend to do in Paris nowadays.”

I sampled a few to confirm. The Jamaica has a rich coffee flavor from ground Arabica coffee beans; the Jacarepagua blends sharp lemon curd and fresh mint, and then there’s the Phantasme, made with ... oatmeal. Each costs less than 1 euro.

About 90 minutes in, I had tasted creamy, salty and tart and had traversed a good stretch of the city. I was high — on Paris and sugar — coasting beneath Avenue Kléber’s towering chestnut and plane trees toward the Place du Trocadéro in the 16th Arrondissement. Winding my way down the steep hills of the Rue Benjamin Franklin and the Boulevard Delessert, past romantic cafes and limestone edifices, alternately beige and gray depending on the light, I felt as though I was in a quaint Gallic village, not the capital city. That is until I was spit out across the river from the grandest Parisian landmark of all: the Eiffel Tower.

Digital cameras flashed, souvenirs were hawked and regiments of tour buses idled in one big mechanical whir. It was as if every foreigner had descended on the monument at that very moment. I didn’t exhale until I entered the quietly sophisticated Seventh Arrondissement.

Michel Chaudun (149, rue de l’Université, 33-1-47-53-74-40) is wildly talented as an artist and chocolate sculptor (his watercolors decorate the store along with chocolate Fabergé eggs and African statues), to say nothing of his reputation for being one of the world’s best chocolatiers. After 22 years of turning cacao into sublime bonbons, he’s responsible for influencing many of the city’s newer generation of chocolatiers.

His pavés are particularly worshipped. They’re sugar cube-size squares of cocoa-dusted ganache that you deftly spear from the box with a toothpick and then allow to melt a little on your tongue a little before biting into the rich creaminess. Fresh and luscious, they’re also hypersensitive to warm temperatures. Which meant — tant pis — if I tried to save any for later, they would wind up a choco-puddle.

Hopping on and off the Vélib’s so often courted a certain amount of trouble. Parisian cynicism reared its head when a disgusted man at a station told me that 90 percent of the bikes don’t work. I wouldn’t say the defective bicycles were that frequent, but I learned an essential checklist: Are the tires inflated? The rims, straight? Is the front basket intact? Do the gears work? Is the chain attached? With these things checked, you’re good to go, as I was after savoring the last pavé from my modest box of six (3.40 euros).

Cutting across the square fields in front of Les Invalides I glided by college students throwing Frisbees and old men playing pétanque. To my right, the gilded dome of Les Invalides; to my left, more gold crowning the ornate Alexandre III bridge. This was a decadent journey indeed.

Finally, in the Sixth Arrondissement, it seemed I could toss an M & M in any direction and hit a world-class chocolatier. There was the whimsical Jean-Charles Rochoux (16, rue d’Assas, 33-1-42-84-29-45; www.jcrochoux.fr), where gaudy chocolate sculptures ofgarden gnomes belie the serious artistry of his Maker’s Mark truffles.

Christian Constant (37, rue d’Assas, 33-1-53-63-15-15), a Michelin-starred chef and award-winning chocolatier, excels at such spicy and floral notes as saffron and ylang-ylang. Pierre Marcolini (89, rue de Seine, 33-1-4407-3907; www.marcolini.be), the lone Belgian of the group, offers 75 percent dark chocolate from seven South American and African regions. Buzzing, I intended to finish the circuit in grand style.

The line snaking out of Pierre Hermé’s slim boutique (72, rue Bonaparte,33-1-43-54-47-77; www.pierreherme.com) told me I was doing the right thing. When I made it inside the snapping automatic doors, it was (forgive me!) like being a kid in a candy store: pristine rows of cakes adorned with fresh berries, coffee beans and dark chocolate shavings.

“Un Plénitude, s’il vous plait.”

I took my treasure to a nearby park and tucked into the dome-shaped cake filled with chocolate mousse and ganache, crunchy caramel and fleur de sel. I relished the fluffy whipped richness, the bite of dark chocolate and the tang of salt. Had I died and gone to heaven? No, it was just a rapturous day in the City of 

Light

 and dark chocolate.

PEDALING FOR PAVÉS

After doubling the number bicycles since the program started last summer to 20,600, Paris’ Vélib’’ (www.velib.paris.fr) is now the largest freebike program in France. There are 1,451 stations in the city, or one approximately every 900 feet. Each station has about 15 to 20 bikes. The bikes are simple: three speeds, an adjustable seat, a bell and basket and a headlight.

By purchasing a one-day or weeklong pass at the kiosk located at a station, you can hop on any bicycle and drop it at your next destination. To unlock a bike, you punch in your personal access code at the kiosk.

Though it’s called a free bike program (Vélib’ is short for vélo libre, or free bike), a day pass costs 1 euro. The first half-hour on the bike is no additional charge, the second half-hour is 1 euro, and the third half-hour is 2 euros. After that, it’s 4 euros every half-hour. The shorter your trips, the lower the cost. My total cost for five hours was 12.60 euros, or about $16.15 at $1.29 to the euro.

"There’ll Always Be a France, Especially in New York" by Florence Fabricant, The New York Times

A good review of the new French restaurants to open soon.

"...Traditional French is back in style at new and forthcoming restaurants from leading chefs and restaurateurs including Alain Ducasse, Daniel Boulud, David Bouley and Keith McNally...
...Mr. Ducasse will open the New York edition of Benoit, a Parisian restaurant founded in 1912... Mr. Boulud’s new Bar Boulud, opposite Lincoln Center, is the most French of his restaurants, at least in its menu, a homage to his hometown of Lyon and the Burgundy region...Vittorio Assaf and Fabio Granato will open Brasserie Cognac at 1740 Broadway (55th Street), the first foray into France for these owners of the popular Italian chain Serafina...Later this year David Bouley plans to convert Danube, his ode to Vienna, into a French brasserie-style place. He expects the new brasserie, so far unnamed, to contrast with the ultrarefined new Bouley, to open in a few weeks on Duane Street opposite Danube (...)"
">www.nytimes.com