Published in The Northern Echo February 5th 2008
After recently graduating in linguistics from Newcastle University, Catharine Hewitson, 22 from Middleton St George, Darlington, has embarked on a trip to Paris to immerse herself in the culture and collect material for a book she hopes to write. In the second in a series of articles she gorges on chocolate.
NOWHERE in the world is food celebrated more than in France. La gastronomie is considered an art form, a serious topic of discussion and a huge part of daily life. I realised this in my first week when I overheard an elderly couple having a rather heated argument over how “the prawn” should be cooked; speaking about the crustacean as if it were a sacred icon.
La gastronomie has also crept into literature. I met the author and illustrator of a new culinary novel called ‘Hot Dog’, which is a combination of delicious recipes, a series of stories and cute little pictures. The book signing took place in La Cocotte, a librarie gourmande which is to say a bookshop especially devoted to cookbooks and literature on food.
So eating really is a major industry here. In Paris there are thousands of restaurants to choose from, including ten Michelin three-starred establishments where dinner may cost the equivalent of a family holiday. However, some of the best places to eat are the traditional bistros and canteens which serve hearty fare for low prices. I tasted the most delicious snails at Chartier, a fabulous Belle Epoque canteen where a three-course meal for one and a bottle of wine came to under 20 euros. Since it was my first time eating snails, I was a little bewildered by the grabbing contraption that came along on the plate. Luckily my neighbour (she spoke no English) registered the international expression for confusion and helped me negotiate the snails, which was so funny in our Franco-English hybrid language that the head waiter had to get involved.
IT is apparent here that there are intrinsic links between food and aesthetics. One can see this in the myriad boulangeries and patisseries where cakes and pastries sit regally in the windows with adornments of gold leaf, fresh fruit and glossy, syrupy glazes. The croissants, eclairs, macarons, religieuses and fondants au chocolat don’t just taste beautiful – I know this because I’ve tried them all – they look beautiful, too.
Pierre Hermé, the Parisian patissier par excellence, launches his exquisite creations in seasons along with the fashion shows, and writes in his latest catalogue of treats that he considers the art of patisserie “a veritable mode of expression, in the same sense as music, painting and sculpture”. Ooh la la!
One night before attending a classical music concert at the grand Opera Garnier, I decided to treat myself to a designer dessert at the Cafe de la Paix. Claude Montana’s ‘Passion Victim’ is a delicious white chocolate and passion fruit creation – a perfect melange of creaminess and tanginess and ultimate marriage between patisserie and fashion.
As a self-confessed chocolate addict, it would have been wrong not to attend the Salon du Chocolat, an annual affair which sees hundreds of chocolatiers from all over the globe congregating in a huge exhibition hall to display their wares and, most importantly, to give free samples and demonstrations. I can safely say that I have never eaten so much chocolate in the space of five hours, nor have ever had so much sugar in my bloodstream. However I managed to make it to the pièce de resistance of the salon – the chocolate fashion show where dresses are fabricated from chocolate and adorned with all manner of edible accoutrements.
I was lucky enough to attend some real fashion shows in early October, including Elie Saab, Barbara Bui and Vivienne Westwood. The shows were expertly executed and the atmosphere was electric. I also some bizarre shows, one of which involved models encaged in wooden cages and draped with fluoroescent lighting – it was rather like a visit to B&Q – but I did not let this anomaly tarnish my view of an altogether fabulous fashion week.
My favourite thing to do after the shows was to grab a hot chocolate from a local cafe or salon de thè. Now, since I attended 17 shows in total, I drank rather a large amount of it. Thus I think it’s fair to say that I am a connoisseur of the stuff. The best by far can be found at the epicentre of existential thinking; the Cafe de Flore in the St. Germain district. There, the chocolate is thick and velvety, pure heaven in a cute little jug. Afterwards you can pop around the corner to the official boutique and take home some pottery just like they use in the cafe, although unfortunately the recreation will never be quite the same, as the Flore chocolate recipe is heavily guarded.
One afternoon I got all dressed up for a fashion show at The Ritz and stood waiting patiently outside in the rain, watching all the important people walk past swishing their tickets – I was a bronze dot, which equates to “a nobody” – only to be told after half an hour that the hall was full and there was no chance of getting in. So I consoled myself with a hot chocolate from Angelina’s on the rue de Rivoli; a beautiful rococo tea room which Coco Chanel used to frequent. As I slurped my chocolate, I cursed the fashion industry and decided that cakes are much more amiable than fashion PRs.
THERE were times when I felt like the quiet little English girl with her notepad and pen, scribbling away while everyone else mwah-mwahed each other and talked rapidly in French but, on the whole, the experience was wonderful. I met some really friendly people, quaffed a lot of champagne and was given some very nice goody bags.
Speaking of goody bags, I have been interning at a shopping tour guide company, which means that I am being dangerously exposed to hundreds of the best Parisian boutiques and department stores. Will I be bankrupt when I return to Blighty? Will I return twice the girl I used to be after all those cakes? To be continued…
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