Smart Phones Not Allowed

It seems that French chefs 

(and some New York chefs as well)

are not happy with the amount of cell phone photography 

going on in their restaurants. 

They are debating using photos of

cell phones with a red circle and a slash on the menus

to indicate that taking photos of your dish

is no longer allowed. 

Many chefs are complaining that,

not only does it leave the food cold

and their creations broadcast across social media,

taking away the element of surprise for future patrons

or possible copy-cat problems,

people tend to behave badly

distracting other diners 

from their own unique experience. 

Um...I'm guilty.

Don't get me wrong,

I haven't climbed on chairs

or rearranged tables to get a good shot

(as the chefs are complaining)

but I have rearranged glasses and silverware

and occasionally asked the other diners at my table 

if they wouldn't mind waiting before taking a bite 

so I can get a shot of their plate. 

But I never use a flash

or disturb others in the restaurant. 

I have occasionally been told not to take a photo of a display

such as at Laduree. 

But I did take photos of their creations on my plate. 

 I feel a little funny about being told I can't do something

if I'm not disturbing anyone else. 

It's true that it is the chef's creation

but I am paying for it. 

But then we get into the etiquette

of how to take photos without bothering others. 

What's your feeling? 

 (Photos copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Photos from Restaurant des Sens in Montpellier, France
and Laduree on the Champs Elysee, Paris

Old Town Nafplion, Part 1

(Arvanitia, city beach around the corner from us 

at the end of Old Town and beneath Palamidi Fortress and Akronafplia.) 

Last November, right after Thanksgiving,

we made an emergency roof repair trip to Greece,

knowing that our roof (and interior) could not withstand another winter of rain

without some patching. 

And we arrived in the midst of a major rain storm

which meant water flowing down the steps like a waterfall

and dripping into our bedroom.

But that's not what I want to show you. 

From the ancient rock wall of Akronafplia,

where some of the stone is still Byzantine,

one can look out over the rooftops

of old town Nafplion.

The old town and the bay lie on one side 

with the tiny island of Bourtzi in the background...

...on the other side... 

the Mediterranean.

Just next to us,

the fortress of Palamidi sits atop the hillside

looking over the city and far beyond. 

The ancient entrance to the old town

(refurbished)

is the symbolic gate between the old and new towns.

A few shots of one of my favorite walks in Greece

(which you can see more of Here)

which always has a plethora of lovingly-tended altars...

as well as wild prickly pear

and bougainvillea.

The walk swings around Akronafplia

and back into old town

just in front of Bourtzi.

I took several shots of these palm trees,

their gorgeous seeds in full color.

Sadly, that same week,

I witnessed workers hacking them off.

They all now stand bare along the shore.

The walk along the water brings us to our favorite spot

for a sunset drink

looking out over the bay,

Bourtzi and the sailboats. 

Our roof fix turned out far better than we'd hoped

(a true fix rather than a patch

and new tile to replace the beautiful but water-damaged parquet wood floors.)

We're hoping it won't take us as long to return.

Friends to see, walks to take,

books to write. 

*All photos copyright: Kirsten Steen

May not be reproduced.*

Faulkner on American Writers in Paris Tour

On Rue Vaugirard in the 6th arrondissement

sits the Hotel Luxembourg Parc,

(just across from the Luxembourg gardens)

a 4-star hotel

which was once

Le Grand Hotel des Principautes.

In 1925,

as Le Grand Hotel des Principautes,

it was the home of William Faulkner 

for four months. 

According to one French blog,

he didn't mix much with The Lost Generation,

preferring instead the company of the park's

children and workers.

And though the hotel has been renovated,

the entrance moved from rue Servandoni to Vaugirard,

and the name changed,

it still holds a plaque

stating 

'Faulkner was here'

in autumn of 1925.

Oh to have seen these streets in 

the fall of '25.

(Photos copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Paris Winter Soldes

The Paris Winter Soldes are on again. 

This year they began January 8th and will go until February 11th. 

I've just read that stores are now allowed to run sales

two extra weeks (consecutive or not) during the year

only if they make sure their sales end no less than a month before the national sales. 

And for the second year in a row,

the Galeries Lafayette will display Paris, Capital of Creation window displays.

Galeries Lafayette is famous for its Christmas window displays. 

Galeries Lafayette Haussmann

40, Boulevard Haussmann

75009 Paris 

Summer sales will begin June 25th. 

(Photo copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Janvier in Paris

A girlfriend just came back from Paris

and over a 2+ hour tea date at our favorite tea shop in Portland

told me all the wonderful tales of walking in my Parisian neighborhood. 

And now I'm missing Paris again! 

Being there right after Christmas, 

she said the crowds were still over the top

wayyyy toooo long

so they opted to skip the long lines 

to nearly every museum

and just walk. 

For her birthday,

they window-shopped all the best chocolateries

and had meals in fabulously beautiful places. 

It makes me think of the little 

Christmas Fairs

and the way everything is still dressed up for the holidays.

And how even bare trees in winter

are gorgeous in Paris. 

Even the carousel gets dressed up.

They sat at cafes and sipped warm drinks

and watched the Parisian world go by

and ate almond croissants with coffee
and Galette des Rois on Epiphany

and sipped champagne

and walked along 

the seine. 

sigh. 

(Photos copyright: KIrsten Steen)

Le French bashing

There seems to be a fight of words 

about the downfall (or not) of France

between Newsweek and Le Monde.

An article in Newsweek states several reasons for the 'Fall of France,'

among them those sky-high taxes, the high price of food and living

and the greatest minds leaving to escape said taxes and... Francois Hollande.

France has come back with a few choice words of its own

defending their culture with its high ranking in foreign investment, according to Ernst and Young;

and in its productivity, still behind the US but with a shorter work year; 

its high population growth and life expectancy (both beating the US);

and of course, its gastronomy: the number one employer in France. 

For me, there is nothing anywhere in the world

like eating in France.

You cannot go to any cafe or restaurant in the US
and get escargot floating in butter, garlic and parsley.

Our steaks may be more tender

but the French smother them with a peppercorn sauce

that makes it out of this world. 

(And while that's the most plebeian of fare,

it's one of my favorites.) 

What are your favorite things about France
and what do you think about Le French bashing?

(Photo copyright: Kirsten Steen
from Restaurant de la Tour in the 15th)

New Metro Rule Book~ Missing Paris Day

The RATP, (the Regie Autonome des Transports Parisiens)

has come out with a new metro rule book,

informing travelers on how to behave.

'An Etiquette Manual for the Modern Traveller.'

Twelve new commandments 

in 4 categories:

courtesy, helpfulness, manners and politeness.

The rules run from keeping music low
to observing the No Smoking signs
to reaching for the bottom of the pole
on hot summer days
(keeping one's armpits to one's self)!
No staring, help others
and hold the door for those behind you.

Click here to see the article in TheLocal.fr
or to click on the actual manual
which you can read in French.

(Photo copyright: Kirsten Steen ) 

Meilleurs voeux...

via Pinterest

Wishing you and yours a most happy, healthy, prosperous and joyous new year! 

We are home from a fabulously decadent Christmas holiday in Park City

...and now recovering from the flu. 

All our NYE and NYD plans have been cancelled

and it will be a quiet evening. 

I plan to spend it creating my Vision Board for 2014...

a collage of all the things I could possibly wish for the coming year

which will then be posted where I can see it everyday.

My New Years Resolution this year 

is to spend more time researching the things that are important to me. 

How great is that?! 

A resolution I actually WANT to do!

It's bound to be a spectacular year! 

And only hours away.

So...

Bonne Annee a vous! 

Driftmas Tree

(via Pintarest)

*

**

***

I saw 

one of these 

on the wall outside 

my chiropractor's office recently. 

His wife had made it and I love it. The 

only thing he told me about it was that she 

baked the driftwood to make sure all insects were 

out and then glued them to a material-covered frame. 

I must 

try it. 

Tiny beautiful things~ Teaser Tuesday

Hosted by MizB at should be reading.

Here's how to play:

*Grab your current read,

*Open to a  page,

*Share a few “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page,

*Please no spoilers!

*Share the title and author.

From Cheryl Strayed's 'Tiny Beautiful Things.'

"Dear Bewildered,

Several months after my mother died I found a glass jar of stones tucked in the far reaches of her bedroom closet. I was moving her things out of the house I'd thought of as home, but that no longer was. It was a devastating process--more brutal in its ruthless clarity than anything I've ever experienced or hope to again--but when I had that jar of rocks in my hands I felt a kind of elation I cannot describe in any other way except to say that in the cold clunk of its weight I felt ever so fleetingly as if I were holding my mother. 

That jar of stones wasn't just any jar of stones. They were rocks my brother and sister and I had given to our mom. Stones we'd found as kids on beaches and trails and the grassy patches on the edges of parking lots and pressed into her hands, our mother's palms the receptacle for every last thing we thought worth saving. 

I sat down on the bedroom floor and dumped them out, running my fingers over them as if they were the most sacred things on the earth. Most were smooth and black and smaller than a potato chip. Worry stones my mother had called them, the sort so pleasing against the palm she claimed they had the power to soothe the mind if you rubbed them right. 

What do you do with the rocks you once gave to your dead mother? Where is their rightful place? To whom do they belong? To what are you obligated? Memory? Practicality? Reason? Faith? Do you put them back in the jar and take them with you across the wild and unkempt sorrow of your twenties or do you simply carry them outside and dump them in the yard? 

I couldn't know. Knowing was so far away. I could only touch the rocks, hoping to find my mother in them." 

"...across the wild and unkempt sorrow of your twenties..." 

I'm trying to think of the last time I heard a description like that. That's exactly what it was but I never knew how to describe it.