A Staggering Rat of Heartbreaking Something or Other

petit déjeuner: I think this place is called Café Gay-Lussac
café au lait x 2 (patrons sit at the tables if they have dogs, or at the bar if they do not.. everyone is helpful and wonderfully kind when I ask about food I intend to hunt down during the day)
bread of some merit at Eric Kayser
yogourt d’abricots

après-midi:
these wild caramels made by monks from the south of France… we spent an hour with the charming proprietor of a shop called Le Bonbon au Palais… he let us sample jellies of bergamot and anise, sea-salted caramels, and wonderful pâtes de fruit with cassis liqueur in t’middle
the caramels were of burnt sugar… he instructed us to allow them to melt in the mouth for ten minutes, at which time a secondary kind of caramel, coffee-flavoured, would emerge and blend flavourwise with the first

a glass of muscadet at Les Deux Magots, at the outermost corner table

soir:
we were too late for L’As a Falafel, so we walked to le Petit Bofinger
we both ordered fish soup, soupe aux poissons, rather like a bouillabaisse but clearly not comprised of the correct fish to be labelled a proper bouillabaisse
rouille and butter-toasted baguette slices
grated cheese
(one wipes the baguette with the rouille, sprinkles it with cheese, then drags the bread through the soup. bon!)
eau de vie – framboise
not at all petite salade aux gisiers (kind of a preserved duck gizzard), jambon fumé, confit de canard, et foie gras… with a tangle of frizzled greens, wonderful tomato confit and the lightest vinaigrette possible
plain eau
vin de maison

oh la la

petit déjeuner:
café au lait, extra lait and two sugars, please

après-midi:
à Angelina’s pour boire beaucoup de chocolat chaud (unquestionably the best and richest drinking chocolate in the world)
une Olympe (un macaron rose, crème violette, gelée framboise, beaucoup de framboises fraiches, violettes, et petits morceaux d’argent) see attached photo – utter sweetness paired with that chocolate, but wretched excess was walked off at the Louvre. Yowza!
brioche grillée

soir: à La Coupole pour diner
verre de champagne (clinque-clinque!)
foie de veau, grillé (normally I would not go near a veau, let alone a foie, but it is the atmosphere of the place that makes one giddy for local specialties – it was very good, too)
timbale of caramelised shallots
tomate grillées aux herbes
hunks of pain Français

a guzzle of orangina

Here I am, in Paris at last.
Five days of tripping down cobblestoned streets in sparkly ballet flats, singing La Vie en Rose and chewing baguettes.
Five days of the finest art one can see: the Louvre, La Musée D’Orsay, L’Orangerie.
Five days of sipping muscadet at Les Deux Magots, climbing la Tour Eiffel by stairway, walking the allées of Montmartre, gazing at Sacre-Coeur, seeing the sun shimmering on the Seine.
Five days of hot chocolate at Angelina’s, macarons at Ladurée, moules marinières et frites in a tiny bistro, and sketching patrons at Café de Flore.
Tonight is my last night here. I could traipse these curious streets for a lifetime. I will think of kindred, write poetry that only love and Paris can inspire. Five days in Paris! A goal like no other!