Emily in France 🇫🇷 Springtime in Paris
I haven't always been a big fan of spring
Spring, as a season, has often filled me with dread.
Believe me, I know that's not a normal reaction to what is, for all intents and purposes, a promising time of year. Spring means more sunlight, warmer weather. It bodes well for new produce: asparagus, new potatoes, green peas. It’s even a harbinger for one of my favorite cheese (but more on that in a sec.)
There’s really no reason I shouldn't like spring, except that I don’t. For years, the first smell of flowers and mulch has made me feel, not hopeful, but panicky, as though something inside me has snagged and is about to be pulled loose. For as much as I live for sunshine and warm weather, at the first inkling that a jacket may suffice, I cling ever tighter to the black greatcoat that has become my winter uniform.
Perhaps it’s the in-betweenness of spring that makes me so uncomfortable with it. It’s not for nothing that, as a child, I was famous for self-soothing by lining up my shoes. I like clear categorization. I like order. Spring may be filled with promise, but if there’s something it’s devoid of, it’s definitely order.
Especially in Paris.
Parisian weather is nearly impossible to predict, but the drizzles evoked by song aren't just for winter. Printemps in Paris is typically fairly rainy, punctuated by random “false springs” that might pop up any time from March to June (and usually on a random Tuesday, leaving weekends rain-filled.)
But this weekend, Easter arrived under the sort of clear blue sky that Paris bears witness to only rarely, and while in years past, I would have gone to Mass at Notre Dame, which is still being renovated (and which, according to President Macron, will indeed reopen in time for the Olympics), this year, I glimpsed the cathedral from afar, instead, boarding the Batobus to take full advantage of the clear day, a tourist in my own city.
By Monday, Paris’ more customary grey skies had returned, but not before I had taken full advantage of the pink cherry blossoms at the Jardin des Plantes, of the easy pleasantness of a wander on a clear, warmish day.
Over the course of the weekend, I realized – in a slow trickle rather than the momentous “eureka” that seems stereotypical of most realizations – that somehow, bit by bit, that dread I used to feel at the onset of spring has subsided. Is that because I’m becoming more flexible with regards to my love of order? Is it because I’ve learned to stop and smell the flowers, to take things as they come?
I’m not sure… but spring is here, and I, for one, for once, am happy.
Cheese of the Week
In addition to warmer temperatures and pink blooms, spring also signals the arrival of one of my favorite cheese seasons: chèvre. As Meg Zimbeck recently reported for Paris by Mouth, goat cheese season in France traditionally begins around Easter (and ends, in a country purportedly governed by laïcité, at Toussaint, aka All Saints’ Day). There are dozens of goat cheeses to choose from in France, but one of my perennial favorites is the Sakura, a rectangular creation sandwiching a cherry tree leaf. The resulting cheese is fresh and creamy with a slightly fruity, almond-like character, perfect for a picnic (weather permitting).
Brie de Meaux is perhaps the most emblematic of France’s seven Bries with a milder flavor than Melun or Montereau and a lusciously creamy texture.
To discover more of my favorite cheeses, be sure to follow me on Instagram @emily_in_france, subscribe to my YouTube channel, and tune into the Terroir Podcast, where Caroline Conner and I delve into France's cheese, wine, and more one region at a time.
What I'm Eating
Le Comptoir du Relais was long run by Yves Camdeborde, one of the founding fathers of bistronomy, that portemanteau of a dining category that sees the codes of the bistro – comfort food and conviviality – married with the ingredient- and technique-driven mindset of fine dining. While Camdeborde still owns the Avant-Comptoir family of restaurants that dot the streets around this old faithful, he has since passed the range here over to Bruno Doucet of the Régalade family of restaurants. And as such, it seemed high time to return and see if it was still up to snuff. More on the blog.
Discover more of my foodie finds via Instagram @emily_in_france and on the blog.
What I’m Doing
This year, I’m hosting not one but two retreats! But they couldn't be more different from one another.
The first is a collaboration with my friend, ceramicist and product designer Camille Drozdz of Ici l’Atelier in La Ciotat. This May, when Paris weather is still dubious at best, we’ll be welcoming a handful of lucky ladies for the second iteration of our TERRE/MER retreat. Tapping into our shared passions for art, terroir, and sisterhood, the retreat is centered on a ceramics intensive tailored to the experience level of our participants (beginners? Awesome. Advanced? Come hone your skills!)
When you’re not in the studio crafting the tableware of your dreams with experienced designer Camille, I’ll be leading cooking workshops, cheese tastings, and even a beer pairing event overlooking the gorgeous port. Throw in convivial apéros, outdoor yoga (weather permitting), and downtime to explore this beautiful seaside town, and it’s a dream come true for anyone looking for the space and time to unwind and get back in touch with a slower pace.
After our first successful week in November, we heard your feedback and are now launching a long weekend format from May 18 to 21. And we still have a few spots! Check out our website and Instagram for more info.
A little over a month later, I'll be off on yet another escapade! June 26 to 30, my friend and fellow writer Anna Polonyi and I will be launching the very first iteration of the Nantes Writers’ Workshop.
During the five-day workshop, you'll take full advantage of morning generative writing sessions with me and afternoon craft and feedback workshops with Anna, an Iowa Writers’ Workshop grad and teacher based in Nantes. In the evenings, convene with us for craft talks over an apéritif. Check out our website and Instagram for more information!
Where I’m Going
1. To Reims, to ring in spring with phenomenal bubbles.
2. To Montereau, to delve ever deeper into the history of one of my favorite cheeses.
3. To Abricot, the newest cocktail addition to the neighborhood, where I may have to have my arm twisted to try something new instead of snagging yet another Lac Titicaca, a pisco sour with turmeric, green chile, and citrus.
What I'm Writing
1. While the phrase “American cheese” has long evoked a plasticine product of dubious deliciousness, these days, the world of American-made artisan cheese is stronger than ever before – and it’s thanks in large part to some big NorCal names. For InsideHook.
2. I sat down with the founders of Levain Bakery to talk inspiration, copycats and their favorite items in the shop. For InsideHook.
3. From the archives: In honor of goat cheese season, I’m resurfacing this cheese column on the cylindrical Sainte-Maure-de-Touraine. For My French Life.
What I'm Saying
French idioms often use body parts to evoke emotion. Feeling things dans les tripes means feeling them at your core; having le spleen is a way of evoking malaise. A crise de foie – a liver crisis – is another term for indigestion, and having mal aux reins or “painful kidneys” means you have backache. That the French are so familiar with their bodies may be one reason that they’re also so comfortable with eating all parts of them, as I discusses with Jennifer McClagan, the acclaimed author of books entitled Bones, Odd Bits, and Blood, on this episode of Navigating the French all about tripes.
What I'm Reading
1. As (almost) always, Scottish author Ali Smith juxtaposes two stories in How to Be Both: One contemporary, one historic, intertwining themes of lostness, queerness, and art. Inventive and gender-bending, it manages to provide a deep, wholly human exploration of grief.
2. I often tell guests on my tours that the customer in Paris is always wrong, and we like it that way. But this barely scratches the surface of the true wonder that is navigating market vendors who sometimes don’t seem like they want to make a sale at all. This story does, with its narrator musing: “Would you like apples from the man who sells only apples? You can’t have any because he’s always away having a sandwich.” In Bon Appétit.
3. I have long been a totally unironic Blink-182 fan, and this story delving into the linguistics behind Tom DeLonge’s accent is pretty much my ideal level of nerdiness. In Atlas Obscura.
A bientôt !