Category — EuroChicsta

I wasn’t always a pen-atic: I acquired my recent pen fetish from TBG. I think collecting pens is a very typical male obsession: as they climb the corporate ladder, whipping out important or unusual pens to sign the business document is a status symbol. TBG started his pen collection over 30 years ago, inspired by an antique crystal and wood inkwell and pen holder he inherited from his grandmother.  Over the years he’s acquired gorgeous, expensive and unusual pens (new, vintage and antique) and out of necessity, cases, stands and holders to display and store these pens.

Having a spouse with a pen obsession or other mantique passion is very desirable to antique, flea and vintage market lovers like Moi:

• he’s always willing to accompany me to a market or shop as he has his own interest to track down
• when I’m browsing alone I can keep an eye out for the perfect gift
• he totally gets why some things cost what they cost
• he understands that something “similar” won’t do: I can spend years tracking down the exact thing that I want

Over the years I’ve gifted TBG with pens, cases and other accessories to support his collection (and to prove that I was thinking about him while I’m off traveling on my own, such as the flower frog to hold pens on TBG’s desk).

It’s also lucky to have friends who are on similar hunts! I recently visited bff The Antiques Diva in Berlin, and of course we spent much of my visit exploring the antique markets of Berlin. I’d been to Berlin several times before with TBG, and was eager to revisit with a shopping list in mind. And one of the items on my list was a gift for TBG. Fortunately for me, the AD is married to The Wine Guy, and TWG is also an avid pen collector (who discovered several years ago he could research and buy antique and vintage pens on French ebay). So one of the first steps on my mission was to consult TWG for advise as to the perfect German pen to gift TBG.

TWG knew the exact pen to track down: a Pelikan pen, and to complete the gift, a Pelikan pen holder. Pelikan is a German brand, so the perfect souvenir gift. TWG also happens to be close friends with The Pelikan Pen Guy! He even could recommend which market was most likely to offer the pen, and gave Moi guidelines on style, price and condition.

TWG’s Pelikan Pen shopping guidelines included:

• pen should be manufactured around 1950’s
• buy from a pen specialist, not just a stall with pens
• a fountain pen is interesting but roller more practical
• spend time writing with the pen to be sure the ink flows smoothly, the pen feels good in the hand
• preferably the classic cigar-shaped pen
• spend no more than 50€
• look for the Pelikan display case: again not more than 50€
• accompanying filled ink jar and nibs would be interesting (if I went for the fountain pen)
• try the flea market Straße des 17. Juni
  

So with our Pelikan pen mission clearly outlined (plus a shopping strategy of our own) the Antiques Diva and I headed toward Straße des 17. Juni.

What do you think of our find? TBG loves it!

Moi eyes are lighting up at the tres chic postcard from Swann Auction Galleries announcing the upcoming auction December 16, 1:30 pm,  of “Rare & Important Art Nouveau Posers”. Swann promises “scarce and seldom seen masterpieces by… Mucha, Toulouse-Lautrec, Chéret, Bonnard and Steinlen.”

I’m not sure I’ll be buying, but I’ll definitely be browsing during the pre-sale exhibition:

• Saturday, December 12 10am-4pm
• Monday, December 14 10am-6pm
• Tuesday, December 15 10am-6pm
• Wednesday, December 16 10am-noon

These exhibitions are like an art exhibit: and they’re free! Moi learns alot by visiting auction pre-sale exhibitions: there are always specialists on hand to answer questions. Featured will be a color lithograph poster France-Champagne by Pierre Bonnard, circa 1891.

If you’re not going to be in NYC for the auction, check it out online: you can view the catalogue online, and place online bids! Now that’s smart cyber shopping.

Moi tip: If you’d like the poster but its out of your budget, consider purchasing the illustrated catalogue for $35. Or be chic and cheap like Moi and save the promo postcard!

There are many advantages of living abroad, one of which is discovering new foods and ingredients. Like all bored expat spouses (remember Julia in Julie and Julia) Moi needed something to do while living in Paris, and ended up taking lots of cooking classes. An ingredient I had seen in the grocery, but never purchased, is ground almonds.

CoMo bff S and Moi met in Paris, and have taken many cooking classes together. Now that we’re both ex-expats, we enjoy sharing our culinary discoveries with our US family and friends. S developed this recipe to share her love of chocolate and almonds, and to make a standard chocolate cake or brownie into a truly special dessert.

And that’s why S won first prize in a local baking contest this month!

First Place: Chocolate Almond Cake

•   3 eggs
• 4.4 ounces chocolate
• 1 stick butter
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1/3 cup ground almonds
• 1/3 cup flour

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Melt chocolate in large bowl over boiling water. Whisk in butter and sugar. Remove from heat. Whisk in eggs, flour and almonds. Bake in paper-lined 8-inch pan for 20 minutes. If you cook this a shorter time, it is gooey like a flourless cake, and I serve it with a raspberry sauce or a crème anglaise. If you cook it 15-20 minutes longer, it is more like a brownie but still gooey, and is best topped with fresh raspberries. — CoMo bff  S

Moi tips:

• if you’re traveling in Paris (and other European cities) ground almonds are readily available at a very reasonable price. They’re packaged in small plastic bags, and freeze great. Throw a few bags in your suitcase: much easier than grinding the almonds at home. I purchase Vahiné amandes en poudre, and freeze them until needed.
• crème anglaise is an elegant finish to many French desserts, and not difficult to make. But Moi learned a tip for serving crème anglaise from the Barefoot Contessa, and of course shared it with CoMo bff S, and now is sharing it with you: Buy a carton of Häagen-Dazs Vanilla ice cream, allow to thaw until liquid, and serve. Voila!

Bon Appétit!

Our first year living in Paris, we were very excited to be invited to celebrate with The American Club of Paris, at a location on rue Saint-Honoré next to the  Elysée Palace . The dinner was one week before Thanksgiving, and we were looking forward to meeting some other Americans and enjoying a beautiful setting. What we discovered was most of the attendees that evening were much older than us, French, and loved everything American: not a bad thing, just not what we expected. The dinner was cooked and served in a very traditional historic salon, and TBG and I were the only Americans at our table. The food was delicious, the salon was tres grande, and the company fun and entertaining.

And then came the grande finale, dessert: a large square of cornbread covered in a pool of cranberry sauce.

As we first looked silently, then started to laugh out loud, our dinner companions questioned us: why are we laughing? Apparently they all thought cornbread and cranberries was a traditional American dessert. The French thought it strange, but apparently served this every year. Were we the first to comment? We’ll never know…

A week later, TBG and I hosted our own Thanksgiving dinner for 10 (plus a 2 week-old baby) chez nous. As Thanksgiving is an American holiday, all the men (sexist, but true) had to work, so cocktails were at 7, and dinner was scheduled at 8pm so everyone would have time to arrive after late French workdays. Everyone brought a dessert, and Moi shopped and cooked. And encountered Thanksgiving Paris Problems. [Read more →]

On my fast-paced walk down Columbus Ave, Moi once again stopped to admire a gorgeously arranged display window: sexy and chic and very feminine, I’d often admired Only Hearts, but never ventured inside. Somehow, the skeptical back of my brain told me that this store must sell coffee cups and key chains emblazoned with heart logos, but my eyes finally convinced me to enter.

First several vintage kimonos caught my eye…then a display case filled with vintage and faux vintage jewels…and bits of silky and ribbony lingerie…shoes and boots…dresses and blouses…candles and perfume, and bien sur, coffee mugs with heart logos. All organized like a somewhat messy but very chic walk-in closet: a closet Moi needed to investigate.

I was enchanted: why hadn’t I stopped at this new store already! To my complete surprise I was told Only Hearts had been on Columbus Ave over 20 years, originally just down the street. And now there were locations not only on the Upper West Side and in SoHo, but in California and Rome…as in Italy! They even have an internet salesroom! Yes, its a very American store, but its sexy, romantic casual under-and-outer clothes has appeal beyond NYC.

On my first visit, I left with a new strapless bra to wear for an upcoming black tie night at the Waldorf Astoria (I’m excited, very old New York!) and a card filled with scribblings of items I want to check on my next visit, and maybe give TBG for his shopping list. Their website even boasts never-worn vintage lingerie: I need to check that out! More than eye candy, Only Hearts is affordable luxury.

Once I returned chez moi and checked out the Only Hearts website, I learned more about the store creator and lingerie designer Helena Stuart. I love her philosophy: I don’t want my clothes to age after one season. I believe in building a wardrobe, and I want my customer to be able to wear my clothes for years and not feel dated. I want her to look appealing, without giving too much away. As a woman I understand what fits a woman’s body, and I understand how to capture the male gaze.

Slow down, smell the roses: don’t just look at the windows, go on in and touch the hearts!

Bloomies at 57th and Lex just gave their cosmetics department a face-lift, and this gave me the perfect excuse to run over there and pick-up one of life’s little necessities. To be honest, if I hadn’t read incessantly about Bloomingdale’s cosmetic’s department’s rehab in the NYTimes, I probably wouldn’t have noticed; I tend to be a bit myopic and focused on what I’m doing. I do remember when I was at the Clinique counter a few weeks back I was trying to make my normal cut through to 59th Street and the passage I took was completely closed and I got lost on the main floor of Bloomies: construction was going on!

According to the NYTimes, Bloomies cosmetics had an extreme make-over that’s been in the works for the last 11 years, and gives the area a more spacious, welcoming feel with more helpful, less intrusive salespeople. Hmmm…I’ll let you know….

conveniently purse sized

I was there because I was dangerously low on one of my make-up essentials, my YSL Touche Éclat. Commonly called a concealer, I knew and believed what YSL claims: Touch Éclat is 8 hours of sleep in a pen. I have migraines. I don’t sleep well. I have brown spots that no laser or dermatolgist’s cream has been able to erase. I need serious concealer. And Touch Éclat provides serious coverage. [Read more →]

I just like it. Not because I’m from Chicago. Not because my grandparents immigrated from Germany. Not from my years living in France. I just like mustard. Always have. Always will.

Actually I like all things vinegar. Even the smell of Easter eggs being colored. I like balsamic vinegar as a salad dressing: hold the oil. Someone I worked with in Syracuse used to keep a giant bottle of vinegar in her desk drawer to wipe the winter salt off her leather boots: made me hungry.

So when I travel, I visit grocery stores, and I search for mustard. (and vinegar, but that’s a different blog.)

quimper mustard pot

On one of my first trips to France a colleague of TBG’s who lived in Dijon invited us to stay with them for the weekend in their 12th century mas (farm house)…I know, how lucky were we! While the guys went off to golf I, speaking not a word of French, loudly repeated MUSTARD and was quickly escorted to a real Dijon mustard shop, where I purchased a Quimper mustard pot and a jar of Dijon mustard, from Dijon! Voilà! This was the first time it occured to me that I could travel and bring home souvenir mustard. [Read more →]

Are you afraid of auctions because you’ve seen it happen in a movie: some poor woman in the 2nd row at a high-price auction scratches her nose and the next thing you know she’s writing a check for a silver-plated bed pan.

don't be afraid to raise that paddle

Most of us are familiar with ebay online auctions, where you can search and bid on everything new and used from clothes to books to doorknobs to dustpans to electronics to wine to cars and houses in the privacy of your own home. But there’s another way to bid on auction items: in person.

I first got the auction bug years ago when we lived in Connecticut. TBG and I loved taking long back road drives through the countryside, often stopping at antiques shops, country stores, tag sales, and eventually, country auctions. Fairly soon we understood how things worked, and although we never needed to bid on a tractor or a bakers’ dozen of chicken coops, we got the hang of it and enjoyed the show. Then we moved to Paris, and I began to spend alot of time at Drouot.

Not familiar? Drouot is a large auction house, over 150 years old, in the 9th arrondissement of Paris, with auctions of everything from entire households of

Drouot auction house in Paris

furnishings to a single strand of pearls. I’ve been lucky enough to accompany friends who have successfully bid on a suite of wicker furniture, rings, antique linens, paintings, and tableware. Even more fun is to visit Drouot in the days prior to an auction and inspect the items up for sale: who knows what treasures might be in that locked trunk being auctioned “as is” or that 6 inch pile of sketches? Wandering from room to room listening to dealers, decorators, and doyennes is a real education in antiques (as well as a mini-French lesson!) [Read more →]

Travel opens my eyes to new colors and experiences and smells and tastes…and my favorite souvenir is always my memories. I’m not a big photographer, and I don’t really like looking at pix, so my memories are my souvenirs…plus all the cool stuff I find and haul back with me on the plane.

don't you love this British Air ad I saw at a bus stop?

I’m lucky to have BFFs who live in some pretty great cities around the world, with a spare room or couch; and TBG usually doesn’t mind when I go away as long as I’ve reasonably stocked the fridge and am not away 2 consecutive weekends.

You know Moi bio…Moi passport is always ready (well almost always, at the moment it’s held hostage at the NYC passport office, but I’ll update you on that later!) and my wheelie is under my bed, open, with things being tossed inside frequently for my next trip. I have a drawer devoted to making my international travel easier: adapters, hairdryers with euro plugs (see Hair-Mergency), a wallet filled with euros and another with pounds, and a zip lock baggie in my wheelie with an assortment of tea-bags and Crystal Light singles and a 220 volt water heater to make an emergency cup of hot tea or lemonade in the middle of the night. [Read more →]

It’s finally in bookstores! I’ve been to Barnes and Nobles and Borders at least 6 times the past few weeks, and each time the release has been delayed. But today: SCORE!

I’ve had several Julia Child cookbooks for decades, and love to read them, but cooking those recipes, not so much. The Tarte Tatin, and a few other recipes were simple enough, but for me there were just too many steps, and as a working mom with kids, they took too much time.  Julia Child  became romance reading for me.

Then, we moved to Paris for 7 years, and I entered the world of French cooking classes: at the Cordon Bleu, at the Ritz Escoffier, at Lenôtre; and with Eve and Samira and Paul, 3 fabulous cooks who gave classes in their homes, in English. So I do know how to cook French cuisine.

Then this summer, I fell in love all over again, with Julie and Julia.  As a former Paris expat, I completely understood Julia’s loud wail: I have to find something to DO! And for Julia, as it was for me and all my Paris BFFs, that something was French cooking lessons.

I speak street French: yes, I took some classes over the years, but most of my languages skills were picked up dans la rue: on the street. I can read a paper or magazine, watch tv or a movie, and have decent conversations. But although I could struggle through a French cookbook, I much prefered the English versions. So I knew of Je Sais Cuisiner by Ginette Mathiot, but I never bought it: too complicated for me, but very easy for French speakers. Considered the bible of French home cooking, it was on my official lust but never indulge list.

Then a few years ago, I fell in love with Chocolate & Zucchini, a blog on French cooking and recipes in English by young French woman Clotilde Dusoulier, and have been a subscriber for years,  have  bought her cookbooks, and seen her on the Today Show.

So nothing excited me more than to find that Clotilde was the principal translator of I Know How to Cook, just released in English and now officially in bookstores around America. Translations don’t always work, but I know Clotilde is reliable and knowledgeable, with an excellent understanding of American cooking, measurement system, and appliances. I bought the book at Barnes and Nobles for $30.60 ($45 – 20% member discount – 15% coupon). Weighing in at 2.4 kilos (that’s a hefty 5.28 pounds!) it’s a bargain.

One of my fave features of I Know How To Cook is the way Clotilde translated it: each recipe name is printed in both English and French. For example: Roast Turkey is also referenced as Dinde Rötie, good to know if you’re in Paris trying to order dinner!

gorgeous photos and clearly written recipes

Another is that the gorgeous photos are cross-referenced: the photo on page 684 of Mont Blanc directs us to the recipe on page 657; and the recipe for Mont Blanc on page 657 has a little camera next to it and the page 684. Voila!

I have to go read my cookbook now…and maybe even cook something for TBG… maybe the Tarte Tatin with the apples we bought in Vermont this weekend. Merci Clotilde and Ginette!