Greek Yogurt, No More

It’s been a challenge coming back to hurried, mundane breakfasts after my reprieve in Paris. Greek yogurt, fruit, protein pancakes, nor scrambled eggs will surfeit my hungry stomach and eager palette. Why can’t every sunrise be met with chandeliers, silver platters, and every morsel imaginable?

Because I live in the real world? Yes, I guess that’s it. As I make this heart-wrenching transition back to the feast of Americans, I will allow you to wallow in the foodie heaven that was.

Breakfast time

Eggs and smoked salmon

Fruit and granola galore

And then there were some other meals. Remember all the wine we imbibed? We had to pair it with something…

La Tour Eiffel

Pumpkin soup with chestnut puree

Sea bass in grape and walnut foam

Brother’s dish. Stuffed caramelized onion with pork

Poached apple with dried apple and honey glaze

Post-dessert dessert

Post-dessert dessert

 

Thanksgiving treat

And there was a little bread…

Let’s cheers to the greatness of Greek yogurt 🙂

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Excusez-Moi

I took a reprieve from blogging last week, in order to experience Thanksgiving as the Pilgrims did….in Paris, France.

Oh wait.

Well, it was an unforgettable trip regardless. I am very thankful for the remarkable experience I had; all the loved ones that were not there with us were deeply entrenched in our hearts and spirits. My week in Paris was filled with family, Carrara marble, art, cheese, art, Parisian overcast mornings, art, wine, wine, wine, chocolate, cheese, art, art, wine, art. Did I mention the art? Or cheese?

I witnessed such unprecedented works of passion, talent, and grandeur while visiting the Louvre, Versailles, Centre de Pompidou, Musee d’ Orsay, Eiffel Tower, Tuilerie Gardens, Notre Dame, Sacre Cour, and so on. The gilded frames and heart-wrenching self-expressions can implore both confusion and comfort–leaving you seeking to understand all that the building or watercolor illustrates.  I digress, my family really enjoys art 🙂

When I wasn’t meandering down the paneled and priceless halls of museums. I was exploring the City of Love via my favorite vehicle: running. What a life those Parisians live, they were jogging through the gardens of Versailles and amongst the Tuilerie sculptures at all hours of the day. My own runs along the Seine River in light rain were majestic, I took in the stone walls, cobble stoned paths (note: wet cobblestone along the frigid Seine is not a good idea), and abundant history and culture. There really is no comparable way to truly experience a city.

Other than wandering the Left Bank looking for your yoga studio hidden in an obscure cloister near St Germain. The studio was hard to believe: historic, immaculate, warm, inviting, French, serene. It was going to be a wonderful Friday morning regardless of what the class was actually like. Much to my chagrin, the instructor stopped speaking French a few minutes in and continued the class in English after detecting some fluent speakers foreigners. I have only taken yoga in Denmark and Peru outside the US, and I hope to make this a routine in my travels. In addition to this class and my running, we practiced yoga on the carpet of our hotel room. I led my family through a flow practice I had been working on. Concentration was challenging during these practices, as we faced not incense or an alter, but a silver platter of bread and butter. But really.

Au revoir

xo

How was your holiday?

What’s your favorite way to explore a city?