Photos from a cold capital and a nod from The Guardian...

Inspired that someone other than my friends and family liked a picture I took.

Blustery and frigid, how nice to cast off winter's shackles, the kind that stick to the skin. The sun has appeared in Paris, along with the throngs shaking off months of cold doldrums. We are welcoming the derring-do that spring invites, but first, some photos from my first chilly winter in some time. It wasn't all that bad...

Grey Paris

Surely MTV and MuchMusic will be dead soon?...

While I am of the elitist "don't own a television set" set it is for lack of funds and time, not a revulsion towards the medium, which, can obviously be amazing and amazingly shitty.
I hear from people who purportedly know that the "music" channels of North America have devolved into a steaming mass of bisexual dating shows and the lurid chronicling of Californian teens. Let's face it, we all saw how low Moses Znaimer's music video vehicle could sink when "Much On Demand" was introduced to the derision discerning listeners and "whoo!"s of tweeny poppers. Rick the Little Temp was about all I could take. Obviously, there is an audience for whatever kind of gobshite is being broadcast by MTV and Much. It just isn't "us" (as in, the collective of discerning individuals).
Today, I thank the internet once again, for making music video channels obsolete. Gone are the days of pining over Erica Ehm or writing Sook Yin Lee to play a Dinosaur Jr. video when "The Wedge" had a host. Admittedly, fun times. But fuck rolling the dice when you want to watch something. Viva la internet!
This video makes me laugh a spittle flecked guffaw in the gaping maws of worn out channels.
Best dancing since Spike Jonze did vids.
Prodigious!

Boy, this wine is GRAPE!!!

I had a brief conversation the other day with lady who exploits me and other native English speaking foreigners in France into giving business English lessons over the phone for a pittance. I don’t resent this lady, quite the contrary – she’s savvy, has worked hard at her scheme and has a few of those endearing British mannerisms that make her seem like she’s teetering on the brink of bat-shit crazy. We were discussing how money is freaking everyone out and people are all cutting back on luxury items, trading evenings of fine dining pampering for ham sandwiches, Bentley’s for bus passes, cocaine for meth, you get the idea. But it seems like, shocker, people still want to feel like human beings and bloody treat themselves once in while. So while the airline and tiara industries are taking a battering, maybe the best position to be in right now is to be selling frivolous, low cost “treats”. Of these, I can only think of food related treats. And why not get yourself a fancy pickle or a cookie? I found this recent NY Times article inspiring (let’s just hope that whole movement doesn’t implode like most fads). But I have always found it difficult to find cheap wine I enjoy. Most of the readily available plonk in US and Canadian markets is, to put it mildly, fucking repugnant and should only be consumed if you are shitfaced or willing to whizwhack a bottle of Chardonnay. In Canada, I attribute the ineptitude at providing a palatable wine at a low price (read: around five bucks) to the Government over-taxing alcohol. But in some countries, the Government wouldn’t dare to threaten the populace’s inalienable right to swill decent, cheap wine with every meal, for fear of swift palatial stormings and guerilla insurrection (I’m lookin’ at you Chile, Argentina and Spain [wink!]). I’m finding this to also be true of France.

While the paragons of French wine (ie, Burgundies and Bordeaux) are out of most people’s current price range, I have been unwilling to forego a daily bottle with American Girlfriend over dinner, no matter how humbled my bank account. So I find myself seeking out and evaluating cheap French wines. Unsurprisingly, there are many a bargain to be drank round these parts.

So, this seemingly interminable introduction was to let you know that I will be giving my two loyal readers tips on buying cheap French wine. Since one of said readers is American Girlfriend and will most likely be consuming all the wine with me, Enjoy Kevin!

The first wine I want to tell you about is: Domaine Du Prieure D'Amilhac 2007 Chardonnay (5.40 Euros). It is not a subtle exercise in restraint highlighting a highly regarded terroir. I have bought this wine at least seven times now and have come to refer to it as the “Chard with Nards”. It is rich and full of fruit but the minerals do manage to peek through. I like it with chicken. And mustard. I’m starting to really check out the Languedoc – Roussillon region for deals. Sometimes the wines are super rugged and coarse but many are very well made and balanced, this being a nice example. I have no idea where to get it outside of France. In France Nicolas carries it.
Wine number two is: Les Deux Clochers - Les Vignerons de Saint-Pourçain 2006 (4.50 Euros). A Chardonnay – Tressalier (the local white grape from Saint-Pourcain in the Loire that I had never heard of) blend. Sharp and melony. Fraternizes with fish, of the shell variety or otherwise. I remember it tasted really nice with the basil from a caprese salad.
Was that too long? It seemed too long.

Canadian melodic hardcore and the plight of the abbos

I am not trying to tackle the social injustices faced by a marginalized indigenous people. But I would like people to check out what the yuppies that run the US do during their formative, post secondary years.
Is that shit for real?
I am not a spiritual person, but what are you Future Bosses of the Free World, a group of blithering idiots? Do you even want to minutely risk the horrors of being haunted by that Indian Ghost? I mean, any Indian Ghost would probably be terrifying, but fucking Geronimo?! What we yell when we hurl ourselves into bloody battle, for Chrissakes! A shit storm of Apache fury that waged war against the Mexicans and Americans for thirty goddamn years. What’s next weekend, Secret Society, you go rape and kill Braveheart’s family? Jeez.

Maybe I just wanted to get all worked up over something from listening to This Excellent Album that I am so late on.

Gluttony, OK?

Being broke in Paris is only really shitty if you are totally inflexible when it comes to the occasional splurging. It was American Girlfriend’s birthday Tuesday past, which is a splash-out occasion, to be sure. So, since she has many “things” (read: far too much crap) and I am a cheapskate and we are finding ourselves in this pretty city, I decided she would prefer going on a cultural and culinary whirlwind Parisian tour, to the teacup I was planning on buying her. This may appear scoffable for those of you that know Paris. Not so. For instance, did you know that if you only allow yourself one hour to visit the vast Musee D’Orsay (which is not nearly enough time to appreciate it), you pay three euros less than full admission? Or that the Jardin de Tuileries is free (even though it was a putrid, pewter winter day; and none of the old statues even have any junk left – waste of time!)?

We hit up a pretty cool Parisian institution after all the arty stuff. Angelina is a one hundred and six year old salon de the, dripping baroque, brandishing a hefty pricetag for its desserts and coffee and shit like that. Founded by some Austrian dude and having serviced the likes of Proust and Coco Chanel, it sports the atypical somber, terse waitstaff I’ve come to appreciate as the French antithesis to Brian from Chotchke’s. These mofos are not there to be buddies. They are there to serve you your six euro cup of tea, perhaps expediently, definitely angrily. Luckily, only a moron would go there for a cup of tea, because their house specialty is le chocolate Africain, a giant bowl full of melted chocolate that you drink!!! And, no, even though the guy that opened Angelina was Austrian, and it was 1903, I think the bitter chocolate is from Africa and not an epidermal racial jab. American Girlfriend and I have each ordered one of these chocolat chauds apiece before and spent the rest of the afternoon shaking and complaining of pancreatitis, respectively. Thank Christ we knew enough to share one order (which is still the equivalent of two cups of chocolate). We had to save room for a Mont Blanc. You’re surely asking yourself, what the “f” is a Mont Blanc, Cam? A fancy pen? A white mountain? A softball of Chantilly with a meringue base and a chestnut cream, vermicelli pastry top that makes your carcass bloat like you’ve drowned? Yes to all three. We obviously had the latter. It was worth the type 2 diabetes.

So, to sum up:

Musee D’Orsay – cheaper after 4pm. Free first Sunday of the month.

Jardin Tuileries – Free but somehow still not worth it in the winter.

Angelina – Aggrandize your fathood with the sublimity of le chocolat Africain and a Mont Blanc. Around 7 euros. 226 rue de Rivoli, 75001.

Next time:

Our vegetable-free, foie gras laden dinner after all these afternoon subcutaneous shenanigans.

Lovers,

I made a valentine's present for the internet. This journal of self - involvement. And money saving tips. And mostly things I like.

You're all very welcome.