Lamps on black posts cast shimmering light across the worn, stone streets, clusters of flowers brush by in bicycle baskets, lovely scent wafts after the well-dressed, slim people, the soft, lithe language ripples over my ears like a stream over pebbles…

The food! I grope for words. Fresh. Explosions of flavor. Textures and tastes playing, dancing, making love together, in the characteristic, paradoxical style the French are so renown for.

Rich, airy. Sumptuous, simple. Sensuous, casual. Refined, rustic. Intense, light. Indulgent, healthy.

We had so little time. We knew we couldn’t get to see much of the popular tourist haunts, so, we just didn’t.

Instead, we just took our leisurely time to enjoy a few overwhelmingly delightful bites instead of madly cramming in lots of sight-seeing. In true French style. Un petit delicieux.

I couldn’t stop smiling like a dreamy, touristy American, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t help but feel proud of my French roots on my Mother’s side that came from right here, in this city of romance and light a few generations earlier.

My husband wanted to see a real-deal European soccer game, so the first night in Paris, we went to the Stad de France to see the World-Cup champions play against the Dutch. It was packed. Cigarette smoke nearly choked me, and exhausted from the night spent sitting on the airplane, I fell asleep a few times on his shoulder. But how exciting! The crowd chanted, sang, cheered and jumped for joy, waving flags, wearing the colors on their cheeks, celebrating proudly their very own team that had come out on top. Champions le monde!

A restful night’s sleep in our quaint air B&B, a shower with good, inexpensive French savon, (soap), a breakfast of zucchini quiche, -delicious! Fortified us for the day ahead.

I had read that the “Ru de Bac” street was home to some of the most wonderful chocolate shops in Paris, (and perhaps the world over). We strolled along the Ru, popping into other various shops, draped with silky lingerie, or lined with the ubiquitous French beauty products, or stacked with fresh, crusty breads, ….

Voila. Paradis.

Angelina. The well-groomed shopkeeper served us complimentary cups of steaming hot cocoa, so rich it was like drinking truffles. Velvety, rich, plush, intense. It was like being in an edible art trove.

Chapon. One of the last remaining Master Chocolatiers who roasts his own cacao beans from exotic places. Like wine, chocolate has many notes unique to the “terroir” in which it was grown.

The girl behind the goodness was polite, gracious, generous. She explained anything we wanted to know. In her very thick French accent, she recommended the very best of the already best chocolate known to mankind. “Zis one ‘as ze taste of ‘oney, zat ‘as ‘omemade praline…” We left with a cone-full of delectable chocolate mousse, topped with a crispy tuille cookie and a sprinkling of cacao nibs, and a box full of the most wondrous chocolates. Ever. Mon Dieu.

As we walked with our hands full of treats, we bought a small carton of fresh raspberries, and sat on a bench at a nearby park to savor our picnic.

Mamans with their little ones came to play. …aha! Now I know how the ladies grow to be so elegant; nearly every little girl I saw was neatly dressed in a pretty dress, as was her Mama.

Seriously, I have never seen such beautifully dressed people all in one place. I had expected to be disappointed, Pinterest is just wishful thinking, right? People don’t really embody the stereotypes we sometimes wish they would, right? I mean, maybe here and there, but won’t I see mostly boring leggings and slouchy hoodies and sneakers like I see everywhere on the street and in the stores here, right? Pas du tout. No way.

At dinner, we sat outside a cafe eating a savory duck confit, creamy potato gratin and drinking a lovely crisp white wine while we watched people.

Dresses! I haven’t seen so many dresses since I left the Mennonites! And so much color! Perhaps because it was late summer, and perhaps because it was Sunday, everyone wore so much color. Pinks, greens, blues, even the men! The classic trench or sport coats, scarves, and shoes in a delightful variety of colors. Amazing.

The final hurrah was a ride to the top of the Eiffel tower. First, a picnic on a wooden bench under the trees. A bottle of wine from Irancy we bought on our bike ride. Crusty, crispy, crackly bread, soft inside, with salty, truffle-infused salami. Fresh raspberries. Creme Fraiche. White asparagus. Chocolate from Chapon.

A feast to remember.

As the sun sank into the horizon and dusk fell, the strobe lights glittered into the sky, and the collective, delighted gasp of the many guests rang into the night.

We stood in line for nearly an hour, but at long last, the elevator pulled us to the top where a dizzying, breathtaking view awaited. Magical.

A young, smartly dressed couple giggle and flirted beside me, I tried not to gawk, but I couldn’t help seeing him pull a tiny, red velvet box out of his grey suit jacket, or the flash of the diamond on her hand.

How very, very happy.

Au revoir, Paris. Merci boucoup. Thank you for such beautiful memories I shall forever treasure in such a short time.

Back home, I’ve enjoyed trying a variety of French-inspired recipes. And a lovely French perfume I found on eBay for a fraction of the price, alas only half the bottle. But I love it, and it reminds me of those lovely ladies in dresses gracefully trekking along the Ru de Bac.

And French Silk Mousse Pie. This is the closest I’ve come to replicating that delectable chocolatey amazingness. With the crispy crunchy ‘omemade praline.

French Silk Mousse Pie

Crust:

1 3/4 cup Hazelnuts, toasted til lightly golden and fragrant, (papery husks removed by rubbing a towel on them) Or other nuts, i.e. walnuts and/or pecans are also delicious.

1/2 cup sugar

8 Tbsp. butter

In large skillet set over medium-high heat, melt sugar, dry, until it begins to caramelize. Add toasted nuts and butter. Stir and cook 1-2 minutes, until all the sugar and butter is melted, remove from heat, spread on a piece of parchment paper or a greased cookie sheet. When slightly cooled, grind in a food processor til finely ground, but not a paste. Press into a 9″ round springform pan. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Filling:

1 1/2 cup bittersweet chocolate chips

1 1/2 sticks butter, room temperature

3/4 cup sugar

6 large eggs

2/3 cup heavy whipping cream (or less if you want it more intense)

1 tsp. Vanilla extract

1 Tbsp. hazelnut liqueur (optional)

Topping:

1 cup whipping cream

2 Tbsp. granulated sugar

1 tsp. vanilla

1 Tbsp. hazelnut liqueur (optional)

To make filling: Melt the chocolate and stir gently till smooth. Combine butter and sugar in mixing bowl, beat until smooth, about one minute. Add eggs two at a time, mixing well after each addition, Scrape down sides of bowl, increase speed to medium-high, whip until well blended, about 2 minutes. (The mixture will look curdled.)

Decrease the speed to medium-low, slowly add warm melted chocolate. Scrape the sides and continue to mix until chocolate is fully incorporated. Add cream, vanilla and liqueur and beat another minute on high speed until fluffy. (If you want it dense, just mix in the cream on low speed until combined. I love it fluffier.) Spread into chilled crust.

Topping:

In clean, chilled bowl, beat cream with sugar, vanilla and hazelnut liqueur until firm peaks form.

Chill in refrigerator 3-4 hours til firm. Decorate as you like.

Bon Appetite!