pastries and peonies: a French Fête des Mères (Mother’s Day)

Today will be a photo-heavy post because Paris is really a city of such visual beauty that I’m not going to sit here and try to soliloquize it with my usual reverence. Which is challenging, because I want to give my same stereotypical speech about how it’s like walking around in a film set, with women in heels and men in scarves and scooters rushing by and people (me) carrying dainty paper boxes full of pastries out of jewel-box-like shops. I want to so much! But then I’ll just get the continued eye-rolls and “Paris, AGAIN?!” messages from friends.

It was a joy to awaken on French Mother’s Day to not just a special doodle on the Google home page but also a fresh bouquet of pivoines courtesy of Bill! He had even asked in the lobby for a vase to borrow. They are stunningly gorgeous and were already fairly open when he brought them up this morning but are now in unfettered bloom in the windowsill. Le sigh.

It was also so fun to see the streets full of people carrying bouquets, mostly of pivoines, to French mothers throughout the city. Really such fun to feel a part of it. And even though I never feel guilty about my obsessive sweet-hoarding here, I felt even more entitled to it today.

Today was Ben’s tour guiding day and it was genuinely a joy to leave him in charge so that the rest of us could just follow. He had a vague sense of where he wanted to take us, but when he spotted the Arc de Triomphe he said, “oh, let’s go there!” which is really part of the fun of a completely unplanned wander. We had the amusing experience of asking someone to take our photo with the Arc which they did terribly, and then asking someone else who did much better.

When we actually got there James said, “I think my friend is literally across the street” because he sees locations on Snapchat, and, indeed, there they were. It’s a family that I know through the PTA and they have a kid in Grade 6 who Ben is friends with, so we had the uniquely fun experience of waving at them from across the traffic and then running through the subterranean tunnel to find them.

They’re a truly international family (Colombia, France, Canada, and now England) and they’re visiting a brother and his family in Paris, so we benefited from lots of excellent recommendations from people who live in this neighborhood. After a long time chatting and enjoying watching Ben getting to kick a ball around against the backdrop of the Arc, we set off towards the market they recommended and felt immediately grateful for having been steered in the right direction. It was similar to our favorite Rue de Buci in terms of a density of bakeries and unique shops, but less touristy.

We immediately found the place, Chapon, that they had said specializes in chocolate mousse, and later enjoyed the message on their website that says “victime de son succès!” (“victim of its success”) when something sells out. We also bought a fresh box of perfect strawberries from across the way to go with it.

A little further down was their other recommended spot Bontemps, which was honestly breathtaking. The mint green interior with vintage style tile and hanging lamps is the setting for intricate tarts topped with perfect fruit and fresh flowers. I was excited to see that they offered a box of miniature tarts in all of the different flavors, plus we added a slice of lemon cake and a heart-shaped chocolate sablé cookie.

While we were buying those I spotted Bill heading into the next shop, Popelini, to buy a few choux pastries and pulled out my phone quickly to catch him in the act, and instead got a selfie of my “gotcha” smile.

Pastries acquired, Ben led us to his nearby pick for lunch: a gluten-free Italian spot that had us a bit suspicious but we were down with letting Ben finally pick a spot where he could eat anything on the menu. We timed it well, knowing that a band of rain was going to arrive around 1pm, and it did.

We sat happily under the awnings of an outdoor table as we people-watched (including a child on a scooter dressed as Mario) and Ben enjoyed the rare pleasure of both ordering pasta and getting to try bites of everyone else’s. Despite our apprehension, it was honestly a great meal and Ben was thrilled to be offered an extra gluten-free baguette to take away with him.

Ben took us to Pierre Herme for some macarons and ice creams, I stopped for a croissant, and then we continued onwards to a park he had scouted out, Parc Monceau, to sit down for dessert. We found a bench in the sunshine and everyone else snacked on their ice cream while I dipped fresh strawberries in my chocolate mousse.

There was a brief light drizzle, and plenty more people-watching which included fluffy-dog-watching too. Normally I would have been happy to keep walking, but my continuing cold had me wiped by this time so the boys and I caught a car back to the hotel while Bill enjoyed the walk solo. Back in the room I laid out my acquisitions (and their fashionable paper bags) next to the pivoines on the windowsill for a sweet photo shoot with a Parisian backdrop.

After some downtime we got ready for dinner and then went up to the top of our hotel for our first full view of the Eiffel Tower from the bar up there. Then down to the lobby and out to a restaurant just across the road from us and outside of city limits in Neuilly, a posh little community. There was a gorgeous plaza that we joked would be exactly what Disney would create for “Little Paris” in one of its parks: perfect architecture, sprawling cafe seating, and a symmetrical street layout just a little too perfect to actually be Paris.

Bill had found a place that serves crepes, so we had Brittany-style crepes for dinner and additionally a sweet one for Ben who was inevitably going to be left out of our gluten-heavy dessert buffet. We also manipulated Ben into ordering in French, which charmed our server.

We walked back to the hotel and did lay out our buffet, although the beautiful box of 9 little tarts from Bontemps had melted/deflated into a bit of a mess. Fortunately it was still delicious and even more so when accompanied by all of the choux and canelé and sablé and lemon cake and strawberries. James even opened up the bag of “Tendres Cœurs” by Bonne Maman, which we didn’t need but had to try. They’re individually packaged so there’s no rush on finishing the bag, although it will be tempting because for packaged baked goods they are genuinely exceptional: like a cross between madeleines and black & white cookies. I have to keep talking myself down from my hoarding mentality of “I need to go back for more!”

As we enjoyed all of our sweets we watched a live Giants game against the Nationals, hoping it would end by 9:45pm so that we could make it to the top floor bar in time to see the 10pm first Eiffel Tower light show of the evening. The minutes ticked by and it was 9:50pm as the Giants got their last out and won it, and we ran out the door to catch an elevator up. Unfortunately there was a line to get into the bar, but I asked the hostess if there was anywhere we could bring the kids to stand just for the 5 minute show so they could get a glimpse, and she smiled and told us to follow her. She led us through the whole bar and then through a door in the wall that opened into an unused private room with a perfect unobstructed view.

As we smiled in shock the tower lit up and she disappeared to let us enjoy it, just the four of us, with arguably the best private view in all of Paris. We set up our phones to record it so that we could sit back and fully enjoy it, with dusky light still glowing over the city past 10pm. When it finished we set up one timed photo so we could all be in it, and then ducked out through the bar and past the host stand where Ben, as instructed, said a grateful thank you to the hostess and handed her a tip even if it was in pounds. Then an extra ride in the elevator to the lobby to grab some sparkling water before returning to our room for bed.