Tuesday in Paris was a day of misteps.
After laboring under the impression that many things would be closed on Easter Sunday and the following Monday, we saved some of our bigger destinations for later in the week.
We woke Tuesday determined to tour the Louvre, but after a delicious home-cooked breakfast in the apartment and a short bus ride to our destination, we discovered that the Louvre is closed on Tuesdays.
Thus, we took to the Parisien streets looking for a back-up plan. We tried the D'Orsay Museum, determined to take in art of some variety, but the line to get inside was about a mile long, and required us to stand outside, in the rain, so we moved on.
In the end, we spent the afternoon in Le Bon Marche, one of the best known department stores in Paris. The result of which, for me, was the acquisition of several fat quarters of lovely Liberty lawn fabric.
All of this is to say, I did not take many photos on Tuesday, but the shots I did take are random and varied.
In the evening, we dined in a restaurant for which the English menu left much wanting in its translation. I suggest you click on the menu above and look at some of the dishes.
One of the deserts is translated, "Vanilla jar of cream this caramel."
I was extremely adventurous and tried the Beef Cheeks...
...it wasn't my favorite.
However, my son's "Shrimps 'Crystal Bay,' fried in the Satay with curry of vegetables" was to die for. That will teach me to operate outside of my comfort zone.
If you are wondering what beef cheeks are (don't feel silly, you will not have been the first to ask)...it is a very tender meat from inside the mouth of the cow, hence "cheeks." They were very flavorful, but too fatty for me, and unfortunately the fat, combined with the part of the cow from which they were derived, served to remind me just a little too much of mucousy spit. (Not to mention that some people had to keep reminding me that they were indeed beef CHEEKS.)
I admit it, I am an uncultured American when it comes to such things. I tend to like to stick to things I know...like chicken. I always scan the menu for Poulet.
However, I think I deserve some credit for my plucky spirit and sense of adventure when it came to ordering that particular evening.
Don't feel too sorry for me however; the "Chocolate Mousse black, cake on the toffy" was devine. Well worth the trip.
The above Cafe was NOT the restaurant in which we ate.
In this last photo, Punch is hitching a ride on Papa's shoulders back to the apartment. For some reason though it was a day light on photo, it was heavy on the feet.
Next Installment: Notre Dame Cathedral (the inside).
