u m a m i

La Nuit Bleu

We were walking home from the tiny sushi restaurant, replete with our best-ever, for Paris standards anyway, omakase dinner. We gave the chef free reign and were rewarded with the likes of marinated eel liver, plump oysters, crunchy-sweet chewy fins of yet another fish that we knew not its English name and finally, a series of sushi items that ranged from spot-on classical otoro to innovative yuzu salt flecked whimsies before screeching to a halt with a rather scary battera of unknown fish with gelatinous skin. Well there was also a roll of chopped maguro but by that time my stomach had run out of space.

Eiffel Tower twinkled benignly as we passed the Trocadero, I recounted to husband the events that happened while he was away in Brest earlier in the week. Suddenly, the normally quiet streets erupted in a cacophony of loud cheers and honkings from cars. A fleet of dark blue gendarmerie vans careened through the traffic with their insistent sirens. "On a gagné! people shouted from the balcony.

Husband and I frowned. Could it be? Non, ce nést pas possible! Oh, but stranger things have happened. And indeed the unexpected had come to pass. The French rugby team, the very one that lost its first round match on the first night of this World Cup, clawed their way back to enter the quarter finals; tonight, they defeated team titan, the New Zealand's All-Blacks. Pretty incredible really.

It is La Nuit Blanche tonight, when many places stay open and music play till morning comes and there's no need to sleep. Well, with this major win, Paris is definitely partying all night long and painting the town blue with its team colours!

That organic market in Raspail

                       

There is an all-organic market at Raspail that operates every Sunday. I resisted going for a very long time because I don't really like the idea of wasting my Sunday in a market when doing groceries is practically my full-time job. Which is a bit of a shame really. because one good reason to visit is the stall that sells hot-off-the-griddle potato pancakes. With or without lamb, naturally I plumped for the lamb version and it was so darn good I promptly bought another piece for dinner.

                      

It was still September then and tomatoes were going strong. By that time though we were already quite sick of them, but they do make pretty pictures.

                      

What caught my eyes was one particular stall selling "murs sauvages" or wild blackberries. Not the most common fruit around, I quickly bought a small punnet and let V taste some. She loved it, heck, the box didn't leave her hands until she ate them all up and then lapped up the black juices left behind.

There are lots more to see and buy, but my freezer and fridge were already full so we bought some fruits. Muscat-like grapes with thick skin and fruity perfumes and a kilo of Reine Claude plums. By the time we finished, it was nearly lunch time. Perfect, the kid settled into the car and fell into a blackberry storpor, time enough for us to drive all the way to Telegraph Street for some really mean lamb kebabs.