 An
anonymous SMS (text) popped up on the screen of my phone late Saturday
afternoon, letting me know that there was a journée de rencontre les producteurs
on the rue du Nil in Paris, where there would be wine and food, and a
chance to meet the producteurs
(producers). There was no name attached to it — someday, I will figure
out how to sync my iPhone with my contact list so that it doesn’t lose
contacts. But I presumed it wasn’t a trap (albeit a tasty one…) or
anything. And since the street is known for great food shops that
carefully source their ingredients, and good places to eat, I arranged to
meet some friends, including Sara,
visiting from Italy, to see what was up.
After
figuring out who had sent me the message (whew, it wasn’t some
loony-toon, but the chef at Frenchie),
we started off with some wine and cheese at Frenchie Wine
Bar, which is normally packed solid from the moment the door
swings open in the evening. But this afternoon, we just walked in and sat
down at one of the many empty tables. (Which didn’t last long.) There
were three kinds of cheese: Roquefort, Brie de Meaux,
and Saint-Nectaire, a favorite of French people, although it’s not the
one that I normally dive into first.
 A
great hostess in Paris confided in me once that the secret of a great
party is to only serve three things. Basta. And it was, indeed, nice to
have an edited selection of fromages
to taste, rather than having to pick though dozens of varieties. Which
start looking pretty funky once a bunch of people have attacked them from
all angles.
 I
had a nice slab of pungently creamy Roquefort, a coarse slice of country
bread, and butter. (French people often smear butter on bread before
eating blue cheese or Roquefort, which sounds kind of crazy, but actually
works.) It was hard to leave that table, but after we finished our wine
and cheese, we headed back out to the street to see what was up. At this
point, our seats had become a valuable commodity. Although unlike at
other food events, people were very calm and friendly.
(I
tend to avoid food events because people get carried away and it becomes
a feeding frenzy. And I don’t particularly enjoying standing in a mob of
jostling people, fighting for a postage stamp-size taste of something.
I’m fine buying a bite, then sitting down and eating something in a
civilized fashion.)
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