Kyotori

If you're looking for a good place for lunch near Opéra try Kyotori, it is the best little japanese restaurant I've been to in Paris. They put the good stuff on every table, and by good stuff I mean homemade sweet soy sauce, so addicting. For 6 euros you get a bowl of miso soup with lots of soja and mushrooms, a cabbage salad, a bowl of rice, and 4 brochettes, the chicken balls and chicken strips, plus your choice of either their special cocktail or a café. And people say you can't eat cheap in Paris! They also have really good sushi and Japanese beers. Régis said he thought their sushi was some of the best he'd had in Paris, and he loves sushi.

Next week we're going to do their take out (10% off) and eat in the park right next to their restaurant. Then we're going to check out 1001 lists, a wedding list place to make your registry, which is close by. My friend Christophe and his fiancée Marie-Alice just used them to make their list and they said it worked out really well. I'll post more about that once I get their brochure. They have the most beautiful wedding gowns in their window, too. I wish I had had my camera with me. Maybe they'll be the same next week.

Kyotori
10, rue Chabanais 75002 PARIS
01 42 60 06 99

The French Women must put the fat somewhere..

So my mom, knowing how much I like books about France, sent me a book recently. After researching on the internet for awhile it seems I am the last to find out about it. It's called French Women Don't Get Fat. Now, I can see how some tips are really helpful, such as walk more, eat smaller portions, buy fresh fruit.. but the whole book seems to be more about self-restaint than being a French woman.

For example, I recently attended a barbeque on a Parisian balcony (beautifully decorated with about 25 different plants - I'd die to have a huge balcony like that) with a mixture of French guys and girls. What did the barbeque consist of? Well, it was merguez on baguettes with french fries, lots of rhum, vodka, absinthe, and about 6 bags of chips. This doesn't really seem much different than it's American counterpart, just substitute hot dogs or hamburgers for the merguez.

The interesting part? The French girls (very slim - normal) ate about half a bag of chips each and way more merguez than I did! They didn't exactley seem to be following the French Women Don't Get Fat rules. It must be good genes, or they must make up for it later. I'll have to keep my eyes open. They did drink much less alcohol and Diet Coke than I did. Maybe that has something to do with it.

The only French woman I can think of who follows those French Women rules was my old mean host mom, who told me I ate too much and would only eat about two spoonfuls of lentils and 1/2 a filet of fish for dinner each night. After lentils at every meal, I don't think I'll ever eat them again.

Sink the Biz - French style

Well, I think I received my first dissapointment as a French hostess. I guess playing Sink the Biz with a bunch of Heinekein does not appeal to very many French people. Those who found playing the best drinking game where the loser is actually the "winner" (isn't that how all drinking games work?) to be appealing will be arrivng shortly. I personally can't wait to show my Frenchies how to play. It's like the ultimate form of cultural exchange; a bucket, plastic cups from the US, beer splashing everywhere, and a bunch of French people yelling 'Dry ass' (because I told them that is what cul sec actually translates to).

But my point was, a lot of people said no. Régis seems to think this is because his friends either don't know how to drink like real men, or they were busy with better plans. He really knows how to cheer a girl up! I think I'll take the former. Considering Régis explained what girls on bar crawls are like in the US and some of his friends seemed shocked into expressions of disgust mixed with a little bit of envy. Régis likes to tell them all how wild us American women are.

Speaking of American women.. the hot gossip with Régis's friends was that an American girl, how do I put this politely.. manually helped out? manually drove the stick shift?.. of one of his friends in the middle of a club, on a podium. Ahh.. les americaines, keeping alive the dream!

Sondage?

I have discovered the perfect way to avoid people wanting to survey me in the streets. Somehow I always feel very guilty passing up those poor rebuffed souls who just want a few minutes of your time. In the United States I always feel the need to make up some story, going much further than the normal "I just don't have time" speech. And then I feel even guiltier for lying. But in France, it's much easier and partially true. I just tell the women in front of Monoprix, in the middle of the market street, in my best American-trying-to-speak-French accent "Je ne parle pas beaucoup de francais" with a little sad shrug of the shoulders and that is quite enough to scare them off. It's my new best trick - and it really comes in handy, because somehow those survey people always pick me as one to go after that. Now that is something I wish I could figure out.

The Kindly Jehovah's Witnesses of Paris

Well, I've arrived in Paris, with the help of some kind French Jehovah's Witnesses. Because of a "suspicious package" at Charles de Gaulle aiport, I didn't get off the plane until an hour after we were supposed to have landed. My friend Matt was there to help me with my suitcases but unfortunatly he could only get me to Chatelet, otherwise he would've been late for an interview.

That's where the Jehovah's Witnesses come in. Matt helped me onto my metro headed for Villejuif and we awkwardly did the French kiss good-bye - I can never manage to get it right with other Americans, I think because it feels too personal with them but with the Frenchies bring it on! Anyways, I got off at my stop and managed to roll out my very large 50 lb. suitcase and smaller 40 lb.-er, along with my blue Longchamp baise-en-ville and my laptop case. As I was going up the escalator a meekly dressed young woman asked me if I was all alone. That should have been my clue - French people never talk to strangers for no good reason!

I explained that my fiancé was at work and my friend could only take me to Chatelet, and the woman offered to help. Normally, I would say no, but she wooed me in with her praise of my grasp on the French language. So I chatted with her and her friend about their recent missionary trip to bring God to the Chinese, as she rolled my suitcase along the street, until out of nowhere she asks "Vous etes croyant?" (Do you believe in God?). Well, I am, so I told her about my church and she thought all the modern elements like our band and the worship music were a shame. A shame that churches need to use those sort of things to attract people to God. Then she asked me if I knew the bible, if I had found the "bonheur" with God, etc. Then we realized we lived right next door and she sais it must have been fate.

She invited me to her church and I asked if it had a specific name. When she told me I thought it sounded kind of familiar even in French, then her friend said in Engish, Jehovah's Witnesses, you know? He went on "We're the same everywhere you go!". And in that moment, I realised they really were.

I think the help I got from them was mostly good karma because I helped two older American ladies sitting near me on the plane when I realized that they thought Charles de Gaulle Etoile was where the aiport landed.

In any case, Régis is worried now that I'm going to be converted and drag him along to church. I promised him I'll only do that if I find a French church that has a band for their worship music, but that's not so likely.