An Evening at Brasserie Chavot and Alyn Williams at The Westbury, Conduit Street

Yesterday evening, I was invited to an event at the Alyn Williams dining room at The Westbury for drinks and canapes, followed by a three course dinner at Brasserie Chavot, next door. I was amongst ten other 'influential PA's in Mayfair', invited to see and experience both restaurants. 

A few people knew each other, but as usual I was starting from scratching terms of learning names and meeting people. Uusally this is the best way by far to network your way around as there's no 'security blanket' in the form of a friend that you can hide behind and stand chatting to the whole night. The Alyn Williams is a wonderful restaurant within The Westbury Hotel  (37 Conduit St, London W1S 2YF), with thick carpet, a serene atmosphere and big wine fridges that act as walls. With a Michelin star, the service and champagne were delightful, and the canapes that were brought out were artistic and delicious. The two dishes that stood out were these small deep fried balls filled with a delicious light prawn filling and a light, crunchy covering, and these little toasts with tomatoes on top. This actually sounded way better when they were introduced by the waiter - it's just that I've forgotten the ingredients so I'm relying totally on how they looked! Shameful, I know. Mr Alyn Williams came out afterwards to greet us and check that we weren't all choking on his bread-crumbed balls. They were seriously amazing. 

Afterwards, we were taken into Brasserie Chavot (41 Conduit Street, London W1S 2YF), a large French-style brasserie. Most or the menu was in French, and the Maitre D and waiters were on form, knowledgeable and efficient. I went for the Salmon Tartare followed by Veal Ossobucco which was divine. The starters were around the £11 mark, and also offered oysters, snails and soft shell crab. Mains were £25-30 and included duck casserole, seabass and a ballotine of Cheval (horse). 

   

The salmon was the tastiest salmon I've ever had, with little balls of cucumber and served on a bed of pureed avocado. I cannot emphasize how incredible this tasted. The veal was also a memorable meal - it was off the bone, and had been marinated and served with sauteed green beans, artichoke and potatoes. It was mouth-wateringly tender, and held so much flavour. We were also served side dishes of salty chips with the perfect ration of crunch to fluffy potato, and tenderstem broccoli. We had wine to match our meals - I drank a spanish white wine which was glorious, but sadly, once again I have no idea what the name or grape was. The waiters were extremely knowledgeable on wine and at deciphering all the French on the menu. 

 

It was a really pleasant evening and I enjoyed meeting various other PA's in Mayfair. I chatted with two ladies from the Belstaff office, a French girl from JAB Holdings who got a fabulous discount off their house brands including Jimmy Choo and Bally, one woman PA to a celebrity couple, and another PA to the managing director of Conde Nast UK and President of Conde Nast International. It was very interesting to compare notes, and see if PA-ing had been something they'd always wanted to do. For me, it's just stepping stone to where I want to get to, but it was fascinating to see where they'd come from, how they got into running someone elses life, and if they wanted to continue. Most of the ladies I spoke to had been doing the job for more than 5 years!

We all decided to have a pudding seeing as the meal was on the house - I opted for a chocolate and pistachio 'pot de creme' which looked very interesting, and the pistachio flavour really came through. Due to my emerging food baby, I dug down to the bottom and ate most of the chocolate leaving the cream and biscuit pieces.

The whole atmosphere was elegant and secluded, and the noise levels were relaxed and mellow. Overall this was a really enjoyable and stylish venue to dine at - I hope to go back on a romantic and issue-free date night with the Boyfriend, and I will definitely be recommending it to my CEO and team.

Too Many Utensils Spoil the Broth

I was thinking back to an English class during my time in Sixth Form, when we were discussing kitchen utensils. It was a medieval recipe which required a host of utensils – almost longer than the ingredients list – which sparked the discussion. The open question was: ‘do you need all these utensils to be a successful cook?’

My answer was, and still remains a stoic ‘no’. But there was at least one person who felt that yes, with all the bain-maries, boning knives, jam spoons and twizzling noodle forks, you could become the next Michel Roux. I have paraphrased (and possibly exaggerated) what she said at the time, but you only need a bit of common sense to know that a fork is as good as a whisk, and a paring knife will chop up most things from cheese to salami to broccoli. Scissors make a more than adequate pizza cutter when times are really tough, and all these ‘shortcuts’ can also save a LOT of washing up.

In my opinion (as I am always ready to offer), what makes a good chef is down to what you can make out of very little. Growing up with parents who are ‘creative chefs’, I learnt there was little need to rely on recipes, and observed many a night when there was nothing to eat, them somehow producing a different and very tasty meal out of leftover food and tins found at the back of the cupboard, none of which required a fork and a microwave, I may add. Obviously I won’t be giving up my electronic milk frother anytime soon in place of a fork, but I am trying to highlight the fact that you don’t need a kitchen filled with every pointless accessory in the world, from egg cutters, banana slicers, strawberry stem removers, avocado scoopers, meat mallets and asparagus peelers (I mean, really?) to cook delicious home-made food from scratch.

Whilst I admit there is a distinction between having the knowledge and skill to create meals or recreate recipes in the first place, and the requirement of particular utensils to achieve the desired effect – such as a griddle pan – generally, I believe you do not need much to be a successful cook. The additional items might make a task easier or less mundane, but they are only a ‘helping hand’ and cannot help you achieve more than you are capable of.

This is coming from me who, during the first few weeks au-pairing in Paris, had to mash enough potatoes for five people with a bendy fork and make cakes without scales or mixing bowls – I think I settled for a salad spinner.

 

 An 'Egg cuber' and an avocado scoop. 

A Condensed Dissertation on Neurolinguistics and Aphasia

For my dissertation I wrote about Aphasia and language processing in the brain. It is in this post that I will try and shorten a 13,000 word thesis into a 600-word blog post for the 'everyday blog reader' - with all the boring bits (like referencing) taken out. 

Neurolinguistics is the study of how the brain ('neuro') processes language ('linguistics'). While neurologists study the brain and nervous systems, linguists generally study the way human language is structured. It is neurolinguists that have a particular interest in human neurology and the changed relationship between brain and behaviour proceeding damage to the brain - with specific focus on the precise location of brain damage or lesion (damaged brain tissue). I found this entire topic hugely interesting, and I hate to sound a teacher's pet but I LOVED reading up on this for my dissertation. 

First top fact. Instead of language areas in our brain being ordered into activities such as speaking, writing, and listening, it is organised into hearing words, speaking words, seeing words and generating words. Below is a really cool image of brain activity during a PET scan. The patient would have been asked to repeat words, read aloud, form sentences etc. This shows that different functions are controlled by different areas in our 'language centre'.

Second top fact is that no two brains are alike in the precise pattern of gyri and sulci (all the wrinkles and knobbly bits you see on the surface of a brain), although neurologists have identified a series of 'landmarks' common with all human brains. Landmarks refer to particularly large creases or folds in the brain and have long Latin names which I won't bore you with, and refer to the various areas of the brain's surface, names in the diagram below. It's a bit like a big mountain - all the rivers and streams running through it are named, but all the cracks in the dry earth are different and unique.

And a final fact, for all those GCSE psychologists studying Kanzi the talking ape (who only achieved a string of three words); Ever wondered why monkeys - our primates - haven't conquered the ability to speak? The frontal part of our brains are almost double the size of a monkey's, meaning we have enough room for a 'language centre'. Mind=Blown.

This diagram featured A LOT in my dissertation. #Landmarks #Gyri 

In most people, our 'language centre' (like a switch board for various language activities and processes) is in our left hemisphere - about 96% right handed people, and 70% left handed people. My paper focused on the effects of damage or injury to that particular part of the brain. Even with our brain encased in a skull of bone, this is not enough to protect it against impact. There are many ways someone can injure their language centre, or left hemisphere, causing an inability to speak or difficulties in particular language activities. This could be from an accident - a fall down the stairs, a collision, penetration, an attack or blow to the head; or an internal injury including blood clotting, stroke (when blood is unable to reach a part of the brain) or a lesion caused by infection or disease (e.g. meningitis). Resulting problems will vary depending on the extent of damage, and the location of damage. A particular injury might leave the individual exclusively with visual problems, or difficulties in moving particular sets of muscles. I focused on the injuries that leave individuals with language deficits, such as the planning, articulation and fluency of speech, and the various categorisations of aphasia - as not all aphasics (people with aphasia) suffer from the same linguistic and grammatical features. The largest single cause of adult language disorders is stroke, where blood flow to the brain is disrupted by a blood clot or a ruptured blood vessel. 

Much of our knowledge around certain brain areas and their relationship with our language abilities has come from studies of aphasia. Aphasia is the partial or total loss of language abilities following damage to the brain. Interestingly those with aphasia will not have suffered the loss of cognitive faculties or the ability to move the muscles used in speech, suggesting that there is a specific region in the brain used for speech.

The rest of my dissertation is very long and goes down several paths of study (clinical distinctions, plasticity, communication, epilepsy and split-brain patients, various neuro-scanning techniques etc). If you study Aphasia, you’ll learn about two important figures in your first lecture – Paul Broca and Carl Wernicke who provided crucial evidence for the localisation of language function to a specific region within a cortical hemisphere. This means they identified an area in the brain which controlled language by making several observations based on patients with language disorders and their subsequent post-mortem inspections in the late 1800s. It was pretty tricky and time consuming, as they had to asses a patient with communication issues (very slow and laborious speech with difficulty stringing two words together, or in Wernicke’s case, fluent speech that was complete jibber jabber and held absolutely no meaning) and then when they died, slice open their brain and see what area was damaged. They only had 2 or 3 patients each, but it was enough (at the time) to see a correlation between the damaged area and the subsequent language issues.

I really really want to say something about plasticity (I’m 400 words over my ‘limit’ already) as it was this phenomenon that got me interested in neurolinguistics. Neuroplasticity, or 'cortical remapping' is the brain's ability to change or adapt itself through the process of cell reorganisation, axon growth and synapse formation. When you learn a new thing – take playing the piano – your brain creates new pathways, and each time you practise or perform that task these synapses are strengthened. You may have heard of ‘muscle memory’ which is picking up a bike and being able to ride it, without having to remind yourself how to do it. This is because of the repeated practise, and strengthened synapses. There's an incredible paper by Thomas Munte which explains that musicians have a greater level of neuroplasticity and grey matter in their brains than non-musicians. Each fact just gets better and better.

Neuroplasticity, in my opinion, is the future hope for aphasics. Sadly there is a ‘cut off period’ where your brain becomes much slower at learning new things (which is why learning a new language becomes more difficult after age 13), and explains why a child with a trauma to their language centre has a greater chance of re-learning their language skills than a 60 year old. If we can find a way to kick start the process of neuroplasticity again in adults, perhaps this could help them recover particular language abilities. There is also debate over whether the right hemisphere has the ability to take on the language centre if the left is too traumatised (it doesn't, for various reasons).

A final note on hemisphere dominance: don't be fooled by those online tests: 'Right brained? Left brained? Take the test', plastered all over Facebook. Just because you're creative and artistic does not mean you're right hemisphere dominant, and similarly, if you're into maths and have an analytic brain, this does not automatically make you left-hemisphere dominant. Trust me, the way to find out your hemispheric dominance is a lot more complex than 'which colour appeals to you most'.

If somehow I've motivated you enough to read further, then the best book by far to dip your toes into is ‘Language and the Brain’, by L. Obler and K. Gjerlow (1998: Cambridge University Press).  

Home Time...

Our train was due to leave at 1.15pm, not giving us any time to explore another area of Paris except for shop for some charcuterie pieces and special beer for Ollie to bring back.  We felt we'd covered a large amount though and there wasn't much else we felt we needed to do. I'd also spent the previous day stocking up on sachets of Ketchup from the cafes we visited... so I finally got my scrambled eggs and bacon with ketchup for breakfast!

I felt nostalgic and quite sad at being at Gare du Nord - but not for the obvious reasons. As my Dad helped me move all my stuff out of the house during my gap year and drove me home via the ferry, the only memories I have of Gare du Nord (except from arriving there) are seeing off all the family and friends that came out to visit me during my gap year, and wishing I could jump on a train and go back with them. My experience in Paris definitely wasn't horrendous, but au-pairing can get lonely at times and I missed my family and my little dachshund who was probably about 15cms in size and two months old when I left. It was a delight to be able to get on a train hand in hand with my boyfriend, and go home. 

I've had a fabulous time over the last four days and enjoyed showing Ollie 'my side' of Paris - of course we did all the touristy things but there were various shops, squares, and eateries very much off the beaten track and out of sight from tourists with cameras glued firmly to their palms. I am relieved that there were no awkward moments where I bumped into Florence or William - the scatterbrain parents of my au-pairing family; we were not mugged or conned (although I would happily have handed over my work phone); and despite people saying how expensive Paris is, we came home with a surprising amount of euros (which I subsequently spent on Clarins at the duty free shop on Eurostar).

We did experience an 'attempted con' on Rue Rivoli when a man bent down to pick something off the floor (which we both saw there was nothing) and then tried to offer us a shiny ring he'd 'found'. As I am already an owner of one of these brass rings, we were both prepared and continued walking. 

You may wonder if I experienced anything new on my holiday to a place I know like the back of my hand (even after 3-4 years). Showing it to Ollie meant I could finally share this magical city with someone else - and not just my camera. We went up to the very top floor of the Eiffel Tower at a dizzying 300 metre height, something, surprisingly, I'd never done - it's only 4€ to the second floor, or 10€ all the way to the top, which is only accessed via lift. We also visited Jardin du Luxembourg, something else, shamefully, I'd also never done, and I also spent more time around the artists square behind the Sacre-Coeur, as I remember I only discovered this buzzing place during the last week of my gap year. We ate at fantastic recommended restaurants and drunk carafe after carafe of Beaujolais wine (usually I am not a red wine drinker but this...).

An extra day in this city of lights would have probably consisted of a trip to Sainte Chapelle, with its breath-taking starry ceiling (I would have had to drag Ollie in however), Musee Picasso, possibly the 284 steps up the Arc De Triomphe, shop for fur and vintage in the Marais and eat at my Granny's favourite restaurant, Le Verre Volé (67 Rue de Lancry, 75010, www.leverrevole.fr) although booking is highly recommended - sadly we were turned away on Friday night as it's so popular. 

À bientôt Paris - Until the next time!

Blessed at Sacre Coeur and then sinned at Dirty Dick!

Sunday was a much slower day (I think), although we still walked for MILES. We started off getting the metro to Les Invalides, a beautiful Baroque-style military museum and retirement home for war veterans. We didn't go in, but it's stunning on the outside and right beside Musee Rodin (79 Rue de Varenne, 75007) which we did visit. Musee Rodin is perfect if you're looking for a bit of peace and quiet, and is free to anyone under 25. 

The Gardens are €1 for an over-25, and to see the museum as well (Hotel Biron where Rodin resided), it's 9€ but definitely worth it as the house is amazing and the sculptures are so thought-provoking including 'The Kiss'. Still in our 'pensive' mood, we walked along the quiet streets of the Left Bank to Jardin du Luxembourg, only to be repeatedly attacked by seagulls and pigeons. There are sculptures dotted around the Jardin and tree-sheltered pathways and we sat by a large pond where children had hired wooden sailing boats and were pushing them out with sticks. I told Ollie he wasn't allowed one...

Our plan for the evening was to go up to Montmartre and have a poke around the Sacre-Coeur. This really is a must see as it's so pretty and different from the rest of Paris. We used our final metro tickets (you can share a 'carnet' of 10 tickets - 13€) to take us to Pigalle, which is like a giant Soho, full of sex shops - It's not somewhere you'd want to be alone after midnight! We took photos outside Moulin Rouge, had a nutella crepe halfway up the hill and checked out 'Cafe des Deux Moulins' (15 Rue Lepic, 75018) - the cafe where Amelie works at in the film, 'Le Fabuleux Destin D'Amelie Poulin'. During my gap year, I followed the steps of Amelie (hence the blog name) and went round Montmartre finding the places used for filming. Sadly, the cafe have removed the garden gnome which used to stand in the side window. 

We walked up the steep hill round the side of the Sacre-Coeur, a huge Basilica resembling the Taj Mahal. Fortunately, by walking up the side of the hill we avoided the little square at the bottom with the carousel (also featured in 'Amelie') and the steps where the 'string con men' lie in wait. The church was packed - obviously being a Sunday everyone thought they'd do something religious, but there were also small Christmas stalls round the front of the church - and a LOT of school trips. We didn't go into the church unfortunately (I've been in before), as Ollie was too interested in watching one of the street performers do a variety of acrobatics on a tiny ledge at the top of the stairs with a football balanced on his head, or doing 'keepy uppies' at the top of a lamp post. For anyone remotely interested in this phenomenon, Youtube 'Sacre Coeur Soccer Skills'.

The sun was starting to set, so we headed over to the artists' square, or 'Place du Tertre' behind the Sacre-Coeur. It really is beautiful, and even more so at dusk just before all the artists pack away. There's painters, caricaturists, sketchers... the whole lot, and they're really really good. It's obviously very touristy round there, so I wouldn't recommend to eat there as you'll be offered an English menu with pictures and a plate of chicken and chips.

We got monumentally lost heading back down the hill - Ollie ignoring my suggestion of walking round to the front and down the steps (oh no, far too straightforward), so after a lot of arguing and map tearing, and having to walk back up a thousand steps we were eventually back in Montmartre/ Pigalle. 

Ollie also had on his list of things to do a bar called 'Dirty Dick' (10, Rue Frochot, 75009), which is not the sort of place that first springs to mind, although the name certainly fits in with the Pigalle surroundings. It is actually a Tiki bar, and one of the places that Sipsmith sells their gin to in Paris (Ollie is head distiller at Sipsmith). It's mental inside -  in a good way - with dim mood lighting, drinks served in giant pineapple or tiki heads, with shots of Chartreuse floating in inside-out limes which are set on fire. The barman was young, easy-going and spoke an array of languages, and the menu was in English which for once I was relieved about because there's nothing like ordering a calm mojito and receiving a flaming zombie. He was definitely a fan of Sipsmith and gave us a shot on the house before we left (sacre bleu!).

I can't remember where we ate on the way back to the hotel that evening... we were still bursting from our crepes so weren't up for much. I do remember, however, that Ollie finally got his Magret du Canard and loved it!

Sky-High Views, Van Gogh, and another food incident.

Saturday morning we were knackered from all the walking we'd done the previous day, so after another ketchup-less breakfast (I mean, what the hell??), we hopped onto the metro straight into Trocadero, and walked along the bank to the Eiffel Tower. The queues are slightly intimidating, but pick a queue that's for the stairs only and it moves relatively fast. Entry to the 2nd floor is 5 euros and 10 to the very top, so we splurged and made the most of it. I'm not scared of heights, but travelling up the thinnest part of the tower in a glass lift would make even the most airbourne-accustomed person to tremble ever so slightly. The view is incredible, but by god is it cold up there! You can see for absolute miles, and still pick out the (tiny) Arc de Triomphe and (tiny) Place Vendome and (tiny) ferris wheel on Place de la Concorde whilst shivering away. 

 

The queues were worse on the second floor - packed with thrill seekers wanting to go to the top, and then a queue for the lift back down. All this took us about 4 hours, but it was a good start to the day (and a good leg workout climbing all those stairs!). 

Later on after exploring a bit more of the left bank we went into Musee D'Orsay at about 4.45, and were delighted to find that they were letting everyone in for free (possibly an hour before closing). Ollie, being the frugal worry-guts was overjoyed, and me, not a fan of spending too long in a museum or art gallery was also pretty pleased. We ran round all the rooms in the old-station, pausing to look at works of Van Gogh, Toulouse-Lautrec (a favourite , and explaining to Ollie about pointillism (dotty paintings) with my GCSE knowledge of art history. 

Ollie had done a bit of research before we went on holiday to see where all the craft ale pubs in Paris were, so we headed over to 'The Frog & Rosbif' (116 Rue Saint-Denis, 75002) for a pint of beer. Upon arrival, I realised he'd lured me in under (nearly) false pretences as this was basically a sports bar with every English-person in Paris (known to the French as 'le rosbif's', as apparently we all like roast beef), crammed round several screens to watch the rugby. We stayed for a pint (and wine), but we did not stay for dinner which had been Ollie's plan. Instead we walked around Chatelet, a place where I spent a large portion of my gap year and found a little restaurant to have a meal at, called La Fresque (100 Rue Rambuteau, 75001). The decor is very 'French' - tiled walls, pictures and posters plastering every inch of wall space, and tables crammed in. The wine was delicious, we shared a board of delicious and thick salmon gravlax to start, and MY meal of beef was amazing... I think you can tell where I'm going with this... 

Oliver thought it would be wise to attempt another bit of 'traditional' French cuisine, by shunning the Magret de Canard (tasty duck breast) for Steak Tartare. We were both aware of what steak tartare is, but perhaps not what it actually tastes like. It turned up looking like they'd tipped a pot of raw mince meat onto a plate and cracked a raw egg on top... and voila! I tried some, and whilst I can see why it's a 'delicacy', it really has no flavour however much you try and disguise it with the onions, gherkins and other bits of pickles provided. Poor Ollie!

Second Day in Paris: Champs Elysees, Chanel, and Chocolat Chaud!

We started the day with a hearty breakfast at the hotel (I was devastated to find there was no ketchup) and pioneered across Paris to Charles de Gaulle place/ Arc de Triomphe. If you ever visit Paris with me, we’ll walk for miles as it really is the best way to see everything. 

We stop off via Galleries Lafayette on Boulevard Haussmann for squirts of perfume, a photo of the stunning glass domed roof and to stare at the beautiful Christmas windows. At the Arc de Triomphe we decide only to walk around under it/ at street level – and not to climb the 284 steps to the top. The view there is tremendous, as all the roads lead up to the Arc de Triomphe so I was slightly sad to miss out on the serious leg-workout and rewarding view.

After a walk down the Champs Elysees, we find ourselves (joyfully) at the Christmas market at the bottom. I’d wanted to do the holiday in December for this very reason – the markets – so was delighted that they’d set up their Chalet-style huts of goodies by mid-November. It’s better than any Christmas market you’ve experienced in England – instead of useless wooden crafts and a pitiful handful of food stalls with nothing to sample, the boulevard is like being in Christmas town, with smells of paella, tartiflette (a tray of cheesy artery-clogging stodge), mulled wine, salamis, chocolate fountains and churros (weird and at the same time amazing sticks of doughnut) and so much more. Once I’d pulled Ollie away from the salami stand, we head for Place Vendome (designer heaven), Place de Concorde, Jardin des Tuileries, Rue Rivoli (home to the ONLY WHSmiths in France), and my favourite place for hot chocolate in the whole wide world: Angelina’s.

We ventured into Chanel on Place Vendome which I’d never done before, and probably won’t be doing it again unless I have money burning a hole in my pocket - it was definitely an experience though! Ollie seemed quite serious about buying a necklace until he discovered it was an alarming 45,000 euros. We moved on for a well-deserved sit down at Angelina’s, (226 Rue Rivoli, 75001, www.angelina-paris.fr/en) and a jug of their Chocolate Chaud L’Ancienne (which is literally double cream and chocolate paste).

Later that evening we visit another one of ‘Granny’s recommendations’. This time it’s a place I only know as ‘Kevin’s place’ as the owner is a family friend. I had to take a photo of the shop name just so I would remember it! It’s called ‘Au Tour D’un Verre’ (21, Rue Trevise 75009), and the last time I ate there at the age of 14, I ordered the sole and threw a wobbly when it came out complete with skin, head, and a ton of bones. I still remain very grateful to my Granny, who, ignored my tantrum and patiently removed all the skin and bones (including the head).

Our meal at Kevin’s was even better than imagined – it’s a small bohemian styled room where the kitchen is part of it and all the furniture is mismatched. The menu is a chalkboard that circles the room, with a two course meal at 25€ (lunch is 16€) and menu options changing every other day or so. We had a beautiful and romantic evening with delicious Beaujolais red, starting with ceviche, and skagew (raw cured haddock, and melt in the mouth crayfish on toasts), followed by pork tenderloin and a fillet of cod (which has a reputation of being ‘stunning’, and absolutely was). Our two course meal served with wine and unlimited baguette came to 58€. This is another place I REALLY recommend!  

Back to where it all began...

For those who have been dipping into this blog now and then or have randomly stumbled across it within the last three years, the first year of this blog (2010) documents tales and adventures from my gap year in Paris, au-pairing for a crazy family with a horrendous dirty dog called 'Speedy'. For those die-hard fans who began my journey with me, car-booting all my belongings and signing up with an au-pair agency, thank you for your support...and you'll be pleased to know (or at least find this fact mildly funny) that about a year ago, Speedy went missing (I obviously didn't try hard enough during my stay there).

Anyway, this is not a blog post about animal cruelty/ enjoying the misfortune of flea-ridden pets. This is actually quite a special series of blog posts coming up as I am on my way back to where it all started, in the form of a long weekend in Paris with my boyfriend of three and a half years.

Walking round St Pancras is quite surreal, noticing the metal chairs outside Le Pain Quotidien where I sat with my brother and my dad with an obscene amount of luggage awaiting my Eurostar to independence. Oliver and I arrive in Paris at 5pm on Thursday and after dropping off our baggage at the 'Eurostars Panorama Hotel' (9, Rue des Messageries 75010, www.eurostarshotels.co.uk), the place my Granny treated me to when she came to visit me one time. We then walked straight into the centre of Paris to the Louvre Rivoli, where the glass pyramid of Musee du Louvre was beautifully lit up with a red lightening bolt feature running down the centre. A romantic stroll along The Seine, and a gawp at the horrific mess that is Pont des Arts - opaque with mountains of padlocks, once a romantic gesture and now a terribly sad site. You can see certain parts of of the bridge which have been boarded up after huge chunks of the metal bars have fallen away into the water under the weight of the padlocks. We walk on via the opera house, which I once read in a book being described as 'a hippopotamus taking a bath'. I don't see it, but the building is absolutely beautiful in both daylight and dusk. One day I'd actually like to go inside it. 

After a bit of reminiscing and showing Ollie the free and beautiful riverside and streets of Paris (I love how you can just 'walk in' on a monument... in the centre of a roundabout or outside a metro station) we head over to Chartier, a traditional French experience serving traditional French cuisine (Chartier, 7 Rue du Faubourg Montmartre, 75009, www.bouillon-chartier.com/en/). I'd been there before, but it wasn't such a great experience and after checking out the menu before leaving for Paris we decided it'd be foolish to miss out on due to it's extraordinarily good prices - 1-4€ for an entree and Plats du jour at 9-11€. On busy nights you should expect to queue down the alley way outside (booking not available), although it's 'Wagamama' style in seating arrangements ensures that smaller groups of one or two people have a better chance of skipping the line. Chartier's approach is 'bums on seats' so be prepared to be stacked to the rafters and on the laps of other people you're sharing your table with. Don't let this put you off - the atmosphere is just incroyable and our waiter was surprisingly friendly and helped decipher the menu. I strongly recommend the celeriac remoulade in particular, but the tomato salad and foie gras are also very tasty and make a delicious starter (to share), and my steak saignant (rare). 

Le Petit Incident. 

There are two types of veal on le menu de Chartier: Cote de Veau (shoulder) and Tete de Veau (head).  Through our discussion with the waiter about the difference between the two, there may have been a slight error in the ordering process, when Ollie said 'cote' and the waiter wrote down 'tete'. And whilst Ollie thought that 'head' most likely meant 'cheek', neither of us were prepared for the huge plate of offal that subsequently arrived. The part that has stuck most in my mind was the large piece of tongue which curled round the back of the bowl - with a large furry white side, looking like tripe. Fortunately, the waiter found the funny side of Ollie's face of horror, and returned it back to the kitchen to replace it with a more tastier looking dish of veal shoulder. Meanwhile I tucked into a juicy, bloody steak and haricot-verts (green beans).

Oliver looking much happier once he'd got his veal chop!

 

Chartier is very much a hidden secret, and if you're after an efficient, delicious and traditional experience for 50€ for two (three courses, 2 carafes of house red), then add this one to your list. 

Vita Coco Kids - There's a big kid in all of us.

Stuck writing lists of things to blog about, you can imagine my joy (and surprise) when a courier arrived to my office late afternoon with a Vita Coco box. The moment I saw the logo I knew I was in for something tremendously awesome after experiencing the Vita Coco lemonade promotional pack complete with sunglasses and a pitcher. 

(The box of awesomeness)

I don't have a child, and after receiving this box of goodies I'm very glad about that as I don't feel required to share it with anyone. As my colleague said, 'There's a big kid in all of us'. Very true, and a good excuse to tear open the straw and pop the foil!

I received two cartons of each flavour from the Vita Coco Kids range: Mango and Pineapple, and Apple and Blackcurrant (still not a reason to share!). Being an aficionado for all things orange (and citrus-y, summery, zesty...) I tucked into the carton of Mango and Pineapple, feeling like I could do with a bit of TLC to my head, sinuses and mental well-being on a slow Tuesday afternoon. 

Mango & Pineapple

The Mango & Pineapple drink tasted like a flavoured water with a subtle taste of sweet pineapple. It's not too tangy - so great for kids - but as a fully grown adult I'd have loved a bit of a citrus burst to the drink. But I am aware that out of my selfishness, I decided to keep the drinks aimed for small children rather than stand outside a school gate with them, and for any normal person without an addiction to lemon, these are perfect. 

It wasn't sugary in the slightest, and there was no sugar rush (hyper kids are never fun). They were refreshing in a gentle way, quietly doing me good. Needless to say, with 170mg potassium in each carton, I felt infinitely better afterwards. 
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     
Apple & Blackcurrant 

For someone who hates berry flavoured things, this one was surprisingly good! It may even be better than the mango and pineapple (now that's saying something). It tastes like eating fresh blackberries (blackcurrants?) with the tangy-ness of apple in the after notes (you know how I like my tangy-ness). I'm amazed to think I might actually buy this over the mango one. 

It is tasty in a understated way - not like sticky, syrupy Ribena - and the delicate flavours mean you can taste the apple. With only 9 grams of sugar and 40 cals, I would happily pick one up after a workout to replace lost electrolytes or pull me out of a mind block at work. 

The beauty of these Vita Coco Kids drinks is that there's not even a hint of coconut water. Pick up a bottle of natural coconut water with no flavourings, and you'll know what I mean. Usually I drink coconut water like it's medicine... knowing that the effects weigh out the taste. With these little gems, there's no scrunched-up face and gulping down in quick succession worthy of breaking a Guinness record; they were a joy to drink. 

Perfect for any lunch box, a crying child, a mother who's broken her shoe heel whilst attempting a stylish school run, or a young Londoner in need of something to write about.