Les Couleurs d'Automn - Autumn Colours

Jardin des Tuileries

Ditto

La Seine

Ditto

Jardin du Luxembourg

Jardin des Tuileries

Le Salon du Chocolat

I spent a couple of hours this afternoon at the Salon du Chocolat at the Parc d’Expositions at Porte de Versailles. I had seen the posters and imagined that I might find rivers of thick chocolate, chocolate boats with chocolate sails, chocolate flowers and chocolate flowing from fountains galore - in short, something straight out of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (frankly one of the most influential movies of my life). If there is anything the French do well, it’s those things in need of acute attention to detail, things that taste incredibly good and look exquisite. I have stood at the windows of countless, beautiful Chocolateries and marvelled at how something so novel and so fine could be made from chocolate.

Alas, reality never quite measures up. I found instead a rather depressing warehouse full of booths under ugly, fluorescent lighting with people flogging their wares and slightly desperate-looking people lining up to get free stuff, presumably to offset the hefty entrance fee (and fair enough, too). Disappointed, I adopted a can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em attitude and set off to find something beautiful.

Nothing photographed well under the hideous lighting, but I did indeed find some pretty things. Perhaps thanks to the mood-enhancing effects of the dark stuff, I began to enjoy wandering around the stalls and finding friendly, earnest, knowledgeable people happy to talk at length about their products and their craft. I also found the wine stand at a most opportune time (although the chardonnay didn’t quite complement the Bailey’s milkshake I'd consumed only minutes before).

I can’t say I loved anything I tasted. Champagne doesn’t go with chocolate, people. And we all know it doesn’t taste like hard liquor, either. White chocolate caramel paste = unpleasantly sweet goo with indeterminant purpose. But I appreciate the creative impulse.

In future, I think I will stick with my Lindt and my window shopping.

Chocolate ballet shoes:

Colours of les sucreries:

Cute man from the Ritz Escoffier (of course):

Love an iconic, Parisian building made from chocolate:

Acadamie Nationale de Musique

Opéra Garnier

Good time had by all:

Le beau Panthéon

One of the best/worst things about my life at the moment is that I have to get up at 6.45am to cycle in the cold, half-light up to the Sorbonne for my french classes that start at the very un-Parisian hour of 8am. The best thing, though, is turning onto Rue Soufflot and riding towards the glorious, still sleeping Panthéon.

This morning I remembered to bring my camera.

L’oignon de Roscoff

I recently wandered into the local supermarket vegetable aisle and happened upon these perfect, pinky-brown onions. L'oignons de Roscoff they are called and were “hand stringed” in this lovely string bag. Apparently, the pretty onions are fragile and need to be hand-packed. Being an absolute sucker for new food, cool packaging and pretty things, I decided I absolutely had to have them despite their rather exorbitant cost.


There was even a little history lesson on the back of the pack. According to the propaganda, historically, producers and sellers of the Roscoff would sell their onions in these string bags from door to door in England. Because of the excellent keeping qualities and the high vitamin content the Roscoff was the ideal travelling partner for Breton sailors all around the world for centuries.

The onions’ website (yes, this is France, onions have their own website...) says that it is the proximity to the sea that provides the ideal climate for the cultivation of the Roscoff. Regular rains all year-round and deep and fertile soils give the Roscoff its great flavour. The AOC (Appellation d’Originale Contrôlée) guarantees that my pretty onions were produced in a traditional manner. Each Roscoff is braided by hand to another Roscoff to ensure that it is preserved until spring, so you actually pick your onions of the other each time you want to use them.

After concluding my research, which included eating a number of Roscoff, I decided 5 Euros for a bag of hand-braided, fragile, sweet little pink onions was very reasonable indeed. Especially as they are also deliciously yummy and crunchy with lots of freshness and a mellow flavour.