"When I was ten years old, my father and I took a trip to Paris, leaving my younger brother and mother in London where she was filming a movie. My dad believed in one-on-one time with us, and sometimes that extended to a weekend away. We stayed at a great hotel and he said I could order whatever I wanted for breakfast (French fries). We went to the Pompidou museum, the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre - the usual spots. It was pretty great. On the plane back to London he asked me if I knew why we had gone, just he and I, to Paris for the weekend. I said no, but I felt so lucky for the trip. He said, “I wanted you to see Paris for the first time with a man who would always love you, no matter what.” From that time on, Paris was and continues to be very special to me."
I immediately emailed it to my dad, and we planned his trip to come visit. Sunday, he finally arrived. I met him along the Seine between the metro from the airport and the apartment we rented. Being the friendly and inquisitive man he is, my dad had received a page from a magazine of cheese shop recommendations from a Parisian passenger. Being his daughter, I knew we were on the same page in feeling the need to try one of them. So, after dropping off his suitcase, we hopped on the metro for our first of many culinary adventures. We arrived at Mmmozza, a small Italian deli near the Marais and ordered an antipasti plate and fresh burrata to go. We then enjoyed it in an adorable little park across the street.
After being far from disappointed by our first meal, we wandered around the neighborhood, discovered an adorable open market complete with an authentic couscous stand, and enjoyed a baked good or two while catching up. We then picked up some macarons before he met my host parents. That night, we scarfed down lemon sugar crepes in line to see Skyfall, which we both absolutely enjoyed, and then enjoyed dinner at my favorite couscous restaurant, Chez Omar.
On Monday morning, I took him up to Montmartre to share my favorite coffee shop, Kooka Boora, with the man who taught me to appreciate good coffee. Unfortunately we had to part ways for a few hours while I went to class, and he did some solo exploration. In between my classes, he met up with me and my friends for a delicious lunch at Pizza Chic. After class I met him back at the apartment, and we decided to check out Paris' Chinatown for a not totally traditional, but totally us, adventure. After some online research and wandering around, we decided upon Tricotin for dimsum. We sampled bao, shrimp dumplings, duck potstickers, pho noodles and beef with broccoli, and once again, we were not disappointed.
On Tuesday we woke up relatively early and head to 134 RDT bakery in the Marais for a croissant and baguette course for just the two of us. My dad and my grandma Mimi are the two people who I credit for instilling my passion for cooking and baking. I feel so fortunate to call them my teachers, chefs and partners in the kitchen. My dad and I are always looking for new recipes to try and genres to explore, with our own flair of course. Croissants had recently been added to our long list of culinary feats to tackle. What better place to learn how to than Paris?!
After hours of research, numerous emails and almost defeat, I finally found one! We arrived to the bakery and were immediately given an amazing piece of bread with white chocolate bits to taste before being lead down into the basement with the professional bakers. After tying on our aprons, we began with baguettes and learned how he makes his starter, cuts the dough, and rolls them into their classic shape. While the other bakers whizzed around us, we practiced folding and stretching the dough. While the unbaked wands of dough sat before being able to enter the oven, we walked around the corner to his new bakery that was almost finished being built...but not before he gave us a freshly baked croissant and chocolate bread to share on the way. Here, we learned the art of croissant making. We watched as they sent the cold, butter-laden dough through electric rollers to thin it out before slicing it. We then practiced rolling them into fluffy crescents and pain au chocolat, with a proper chocolat to pain ratio. We then walked back over to the other bakery to put our baguettes in the oven, learn some more tricks of the trade, and eventually taste our delicious creation.
After dropping our baguettes off at the apartment and before enjoying a spectacular dinner and some the best risotto we have ever had, we walked along the Seine and locked a lock on Pont de l'Archeveche, better known as the lock bridge. While many may consider this an act reserved for young couples with the hope of promising an everlasting love, I couldn't help but remember the blog post above. I now completely and totally understand her and her father's sentiment. The love between family and a parent and a child, specifically a father and a daughter, is the only love that truly lasts a lifetime. While I have no doubt that I will return to Paris in the future after I finish my studies, these few days with my dad will forever be some of the most memorable and bring Paris even closer to my heart.
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