I love my apartment in Paris. And traveling to get here wasn't so bad, either. In fact, after a direct flight -- 6 hours from Boston -- on American Airlines, Christie and I arrived exactly on time, 7:35 a.m. Paris time, walked off the plane, turned a corner to find our luggage heading our way on the conveyer belt, and then turned around another corner to find our driver holding a card with my name on it. Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at Lepic Retreat in the Montmarte area, on the street where Van Gogh once lived.
Aside from immediately napping in my plush white linen bed, the cozy apartment has proven to have been understated online (www.feelslikeparis.com). The artwork that hangs on the bedroom and living room walls is enough to swoon you into artful satiation, and as an Arts Editor, I can honestly admit that I've encountered nothing that comes close to comparison with these masterpieces. Kudos to whoever Lamy is -- truly a gifted decoupage artist.
Just as Joseph Duprey, assistant to Yetunde Oshodi, pointed out to us when he personally checked us in to Lepic Retreat, a Mac laptop is at our disposal, as is a PlayStation, two large-screen televisions, a small collection of decent films on DVD, books, and a phone service that allows us to call home -- free! In the fully equipped kitchen, a washing machine, dishwasher, microwave and coffee/espresso machine offer the feel of home -- but better because we're really on vacation! A basket with goodies is part of the apartment's offering, with coffee and supplies like a bottle of Bordeaux to which we can't wait to pop the cork.
After a nap, shower and unpacking spree, we were ready to go exploring on a walk to the Petrossian Paris, where we had 7 p.m. dinner reservations. This would be our first dinner in grand Paris. And it proved to be perfection.
Two hours of searching the streets through Paris, we finally arrived, and were a bit confused. What we walked in to was actually the Petrossian store and cafe, where you can purchase the amazing caviar and smoked salmon offerings, among other items, that the restaurant serves. The restaurant was just past the store, and once we entered, we had really arrived in the sophistication that Paris is.
Escorted upstairs, we were seated and hosted to a dinner, courtesy of Eric, a fine Frenchman who forgave our ignorance of the language -- and of the delicacies offered. We took his advice and ordered appetizers that would change our lives forever. Petrossian Eggs are now my favorite splurge.
Image this: a soft-boiled egg covered in a batter that I cannot determine whether fried or baked, sitting on a piece of toast -- and topped with a spoonful of caviar. Scrumptious beyond belief. And it went quite well with the Ayala champagne (Brut Majeur) of which I ended up enjoying four flutes. Christie thoroughly enjoyed her Salmon "de degustation" which was five different ways to serve -- and five different types of salmon. Jamaican spices, lox style and more. She devoured what she could before stopping herself to save room for her King Crab concoction with cauliflower foam of which to dip the delectable legs. At Eric's suggestion, I ordered the Sea Bass, a fish I had never tasted -- and realized I have been missing out. Or perhaps it is the chef's expert cooking methods that makes even celery root taste like a piece of heaven. (And believe me, I despise the taste and texture of celery stalks, but ate this root with pleasure!). Oh, and let's not forget about dessert -- six mini glasses filled with luscious ingredients: chopped,. mixed fruit, smooth macaroon with a green tint - best ever!, merengue cookies mixed with chocolate mousse, gingerbread cookie under warm chocolate filled puff pastry -- enjoyed with a glass of Muscat from the South of France, which is where most Parisians are during the month of May -- on vacation! Fine with me. I love Paris all to myself. But if you can't make it to Paris to experience the Petrossian, there are two more in New York and Las Vegas.
Check out more of our travels through Paris:
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