From Hot Chocolate to Hot Sauce

Didn’t quite have a plan, so we started at Angelina, home of the world’s very best hot chocolate. It’s almost like drinking a rich chocolate pudding before it cools. Yummy. We knew it was supposed to be a nice day, so wanted to be outside and decided we’d head to the market on rue Mouffetard. Started to walk to the metro at the Louvre and had a little detour to the rue St. Honoré. Of course, the princess found something to buy (maillots de bains) and we came across one of my favorite newer buildings in Paris at the marché St. Honore…all glass and its modernity fits with all the classic style architecture, I think because of its simplicity and transparency. We walked over to the IM Pei pyramid in the court of the Louvre, but saw businessmen eating a classic Parisian lunch on church steps along the way. When we had arrived at the metro stop near the rue Mouffetard, the feet were a little tired. There was a place that looked nice for Molly to get her Parisian haircut, so she rested her feet there while Rich and I sat people-watching at the Cafe Comptoir des Arts over a few small glasses of Cote-du-Rhone. Molly’s new doo is très mignon! Walking up the rue Mouffetard, we grabbed our lunch – a crèpe for Molly and a panini shared between Rich and myself. We walked the whole southern half of the 5th arrondissement before settling in at the Mosque for tea and north african treats…coconut bar, baklava, almond cookie, cinnamon cookie and a pistachio chewy cookie. The tea was very sweet with mint served in what look like painted giant shot glasses, like you would see in a Morrocan restaurant. After that it was time for a new neighborhood, so we headed to Montmartre. Though we were looking for the funicular to save the climb up the hill, we didn’t find it and instead found ourselves climbing. I think it was the thing that pushed my hip over the edge for the day, but it was worth it, and probably needed after all the mid-afternoon cookies. Sacre Coeur is as beautiful as ever, but no photos allowed inside. We even saw the photo police make someone turn his camera back on and delete the pic he had just surrepititiously taken. Getting Molly inside was a challenge, as she was mesmerized with the African boys playing with the soccer ball on the steps in front of the church. Molly had picked the restaurant for the evening, Le Mono. It’s owned by a family from the Ivory Coast and the food was fabulous. Reggae music played in the background, we all shared another bottle of Cahors, and ate the fish and spinach dishes. The “breads” were unusual…almost more the texture of a cake. The owners were très gentille and made us feel very much at home, although our host had to keep running a few doors down to catch the Italy vs. France rematch, which France lost again. It was fun walking to the Moulin Rouge seeing every cafe, bistro and bar with a TV packed to the gills for the game. From the Moulin Rouge, where we did not see the can-can dancers, we walked down Notre Dame de Lorette where Rabbit’s offices were and Daveès first apartment – carefully avoiding looking in all the doorways of the bars of Pigalle.


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