Confit de Canard

A never ending Jeudi... We left for Paris around 4:30pm to meet up with Jean Jaques, a friend of Matt's aunt and uncle. We hop on the train and make our way to the connection for the next line at St. Lazare. We get there right at the hot spot for 5 o'clock traffic. You see owning a car in Paris is much like owning a car in New York City I would imagine, actually probably worse but I'm basing my judgement on the price for gas, the price for a driving licsense, general population, etc. That being said there are a ton of people manuevering around this station. We took a different train in, not one of the normal Paris rail lines, and here all these different trains connect with the rail lines as well with buses and so on and so forth.

We are starting to manage the train system pretty well and get to the right train line to take us to Jean Jaques apartment. As we walked into the train stop it is an incredible site of what most americans would refer to as sardines, me however I refer to it more of as the large number of opilio crabs caught on the Northwestern crammed into the tiny pod. I mean literally I have to pry my way to the beginning of the train line which is at least 8 rows deep packed with people. There are marks on the ground trying to control the flow of traffic for easier departures, along with "helpful" workers. So as the first train approaches it's more packed then the people waiting to get in. Really? Is it even possible that there's enough air to breath on that thing.

As we wait we let 2 trains pass before we can get to the front of the line. As our train comes the masses pile out and we fight like a salmon trying to spawn onto the train. It's packed, I don't know if I could do this everyday. I was touching atleast 7 different bodies, while another 3 were touching me. Imagine me being a petite woman and seeing some random guys chest while standing next to my child. No way Jose. Thankfully we only had to go 3 stops on this packed beast, with each stop bringing a new current of anxious people pressuring their way in while the few tried to fight their way out. I even had a little trouble myself pushing out.

Finally we depart to the street and arrive a little early to scope out the scene. We find the apartment and then go to a little brasserie to kill some time and maybe watch some sports. My French get's tested as we order a drink and I ask for the Toilettes. I can tell I'm getting better, but not even close because the waiter immediately switched to English and told us what they had. Ah, it's frustrating. We go back to the apartment and try to find which door was actually his. You see he told us he lived on left door on the 2nd floor. Easy right? Well not so much when you don't know if the bottom floor is the first or zero floor... then once you climb the stairs, which are like the narrow binding spiral staircase the doors, there is one on the left and then a tight turn and two more. So you think to yourself ok, obviously the one on the left is the far left, not the little turn and the door on the left, or would he have said the first door instead of the left door?? Is it the second floor or the third floor? About this time the lights go out... remember the energy conservation... Yeah.

Anyways we find the door it's the far left one on the 3rd floor. Jean Jaques is a really neat guy. Think Albert Einstein white hair but curly a tall guy as well who gives off the air of intelligence. Later we find out he is a math and physics teacher, no wonder. He is a really nice guy, one I enjoyed just sitting down and talking with about everything. From politics and Obama, to the lack of religion in France and his own "Catholicism" eventhough he openly stated he didn't believe in God, too French people and their customs, to traveling in America and his experiences with Matt's aunt and uncle, and all sorts of things in between. It feels really good to have a real intellectual conversation, not one where it is just a dump of information, where you feel good about spilling your knowledge on someone else, but a Real conversation. One where both parties leave thinking differently. I thuroughly enjoyed it.

We also meet his son who was 26, named Camille. He is in school fixing to take his finals exam. In France the government controls the hiring of civil servants, i.e. teachers, and they do not need a whole lot at this time. Basically it depends on whose retired. This is a lot different from the US where we are in need of teachers, strike that... in need of GOOD teachers. Apparently he has to be first or second on his exam out of the 10 or so registered. This is for a job outside of Paris in the suburbs. Maybe we'll get to go out with him some night.

Ok so lets get to the dinner itself. A masterpiece in it's own rite...this is saying something when coming from France the home of some pretty great art, like Matisse, Kandinsky, Monet, Van Gogh, etc... Now that I've got your attention, let me make you really taste the food. Of course too begin with we have a baggette and some wine. Let's stop there. First, Jean Jaques didn't know if we would like wine being American, but wanting to experience all that is France we had to oblige. (side note, I'm falling for the cheese, wine and bread mix) So Jean Jaques goes down to his celluar or bottom holding cell in the apartment complex and grabs a bottle of red wine. I don't know what kind it was, but let me just say it was amazing. Apparently he get's the barrels, yes that's right the barrels of wine and bottles them himself. Wow. It tastes really good, not to sweet, not too dry, and a great taste.

After we get through munching on the bread, and the small breadsticks he brought. We are treated we Confit de Canard. A nice duck leg that falls off the bone. I don't know how often I've eaten duck, or if I even have before...I'm not sure. The taste makes me want to eat it again. It's a darker meat and each bite is filled with flavor. He also brings Pomme duchess a bite size deep fried potatoe mix, which is really tasty and compliments the meat. It's also accompanied by a side salad. The meal is great, even better the conversation. We are then treated with a nice taste of a fine French cheese. I don't know if I've spoken much about French cheese's, but the stronger the smell the better the taste! I mean it's pretty intense and alone, I don't think it would be very good... but the mix is great and really works.

Next we have a digestion to help ease the stomach and clear the palate for dessert. Digestion for this meal consists of a strong Eastern European rum. I really don't know, but it was a Slovakian looking bottle that I couldn't comprehend. Afterwards, he brings out a nice lemon cake and a caramel creme that has the consistency of flan. It is really sweet and with the lemon cake it is a good match. Finish that off with a small sip of courvoisier or Cognac and you have yourself home cooked French meal number 2. It really was quite an enjoyable experience, expecially when we had no clue what to expect. I mean go meet some random guy for dinner. Who knows how that's gonna end up...

Afterwards we head over to the train to meet up with some of Matt's French connections. Apparently a sister of someone he knew from home. We make our way to some place called footsie. This place is one of the neatest concepts I've ever seen. If I owned a bar I would totally do this. So you walk in and above the bar you notice ticker takes...kind of odd. I mean maybe this is the hang out for financial traders, whatever.... but then you notice that instead of companies it is types of drinks served. Every 5 mins or so the new stock prices come in, depending on the products sold last round and demand, much like the real stock market. So let's say I buy a coke and a budweiser (btw this is the first place I've seen with the american classic....mostly bc American beer is not highly regarded here (it's just weaker) ) the next five mins both coke and bud will increase in prices. Maybe some other things will decrease and intice you to buy. The key though is as the night progresses you consistently raise the overall average price of drinks thus making more money and inticing more buying so people feel they got a "deal".

It was a neat place, we meet all the friends and they're a breath of fresh American air. You have Kerri, the sister, Rob, the sister's boyfriend celebrating his 21st birthday even though it's not his 21st b-day but apparently he'll be in Morocco so c'est la vie, Caroline, a friend, Ellis and Andrew, and Jessie, the friend in town for a couple of days looking at a school in Europe to get a masters, but turns out I think he broke up with his girlfriend and left the country. He's a small town guy, so I kind of like him, he has his own business or something, but he spits a little when he talks. Atleast he has some good thinks to talk about though. Kind of like the guy. So that was the crew.

We hang out at footsie and then around 12:30 or so Matt and I decide to leave so we can make the 1am final train ride to Cergy.... Did I say 1, bc that's what I thought it was until I got told other wise by the crew. Apparently the last ride was 12. Great. What do I do? How bout make the night neverending...

We stay a little longer and then make our way to a bus stop and hop on. Bus rides at night are a tad bit creepy in the middle of Paris. Not to friendly, and the people are a little bit odd. So this we hop on and I don't quite catch what happens but Kerri moves away kind of upset. Some weird guy is speaking French. Rob follows Kerri, then out of no where a couple mins later, Rob is a little upset and goes Hulk on us and tries to push his way to creepy guy... OK. This is not going to happen. Can't happen. Won't let it. We calm Rob down, find out the guy touched her or something so we hop off and end up at some other place which seems pretty normal.

It's some type of hideout place or something because you walk around and it looks pretty normal but then we follow the crew and end up in some old cave type of thing that looks like it was used as a wine cellar back in the day. It's been converted into a small lounge, a bar, and a downstairs dance club. It's crazy. We dance a little bit and they start pumping some spanish salsa and I see some Spanish group singing loudly and I think to myself. Here I am in some English type of bar, in some under ground cave, in the middle of Paris, from the United States, listening to Spanish music while some spanish crew salsa's to it. What? .... no really.... What? I just laugh, "life is in the journey."

We make our way out and some weird guy is following us. We hop on various buses, passing different landmarks on the late night bus. Jump off finally evading weirdo and then walk about a mile or so to the University where the crew is in school and living. Thankfully the have been gracious enough to accomodate Matt and I for a few hours before we can hop onto the next train to Cergy. We end up staying in a room with only one small twin size bed. I'm 6'4" and matt's probably 6'1" or 6'2".... Great... oddly enough there is a student in the dorm hall carrying a matress. Someone inside thinks I've lost it when I start ranting to him about can I borrow your matress. Too bad he was visiting too and borrowing someone elses who was out of town. My powers of persuasion must be a tad bit off...

So me and matt made do and napped for a couple hours before waking up and catching the morning train to Cergy, which thankfully the stop was right across the street from the University. We made it back to Cergy around 11am in a neverending night. I am just thankful for the experience and the story to tell.