A Winter in Paris: Velib' and Swedish Candies

eeek. After I ate the immensely large breakfast on display below, I headed out on a bike /walking adventure. I walked to the end of my street where there is a Velib' station. It was very simple, unlike today's adventure. I unhooked the bike, shoved all my belongings into my shirt and rode down the street to Quai Voltaire. The best part is that there was little chance for me to get run over because it was day time and there is a bike lane on the sidewalk. The sun was shining, but the air was cold, it was almost the perfect day for a ride. I had a destination in mind, a chocolate shop that I had read about on David Lebowitz's blog called A l'Ettole d'Or. I rode into the 9th, between the Louvre and Tuileries. Naturally I got lost, happily and ended up recognizing the street that Rose is on in the 9th so I went up that hill, and oh boy was it ever a treck to get up that baby, just to realize I needed to go half way down it.

I entered a seedy neighborhood where I found myself next to a tea lounge that looked like you got a lot more then tea there, and the Moulin Rouge. I couldn't stomach taking a picture of the place, it was just far too dirty and icky. I rode down the hill, more like flew down the hill just in time to make the turn. I arrived at my destination, then went looking for a Velib' port. I biked back up hill where I saw a man in a wheelchair with a dog that some little boy was petting (ick). I'm not a fan of all these animals and their fleas, let's be honest. At the Velib' station, on an island in the middle of the boulevard, there were a gang of teenage boys hanging out and whistling at anything that walked by. Don't look at me like I have something to give you (gross).

I parked my bike and walked down the hill angrily mumbling that the candy store better be good. (I can confirm that as I am sitting here now writing this, I finally ate one of the pieces of chocolate coated caramel that I got, and it is flipping good, the slightly salted caramel is better than the chocolate, but the combination is perfect).

I walked in to see a woman (the woman I had read about in Lebowitz's blog) standing there in her self proclaimed "uniform" helping a man who was also taking photos. On the back of the island of chocolate in the middle was a stack of magazines sprawled out in a line opened to the page that showed the woman in her "get-up".

When I left the shop, I decided to walk so I could stop when I wanted to. I passed a beautiful looking gated community thing with houses on a hill. I took a picture (of course), but it doesn't seem to get the full image I wanted.

Next, I walked past Rose and found the only Swedish candy store in all of Paris (awesome). It was heaven. They even had clog looking things. I spent 40 minutes carefully choosing which candies looked the best. It wasn't until after I paid that I saw the Swedish flag on the shoes and realized this wasn't any old candy store and probably should have gotten more. I decided that I wasn't going to eat any of the candy, one, because my hands were dirty from the bike handles and because I wanted to document every piece incase I needed to go get more of it.

The candy tasted so good. The green sour belts actually tasted like real apple and nothing tasted artificial, I'm in love!

Just next door was a really sweet, well organized olive oil shop. I was drawn in by the wood bowls in the front (yup mom, you read that right). I ended up buying 3 smaller bowls from Colette! I've never met someone by that name. I was very excited. She's a beautiful, slim, tall granny.

Once I approached the 10th, it began to get cold, but I was on a new mission, to find a pizza place I had read about that morning. I read a blog called (its really unimportant and I cant remember the name) but they gave Rose a less than stellar review and highly rated this unimpressive pizza place, Al Taglio.

On my second mission, I passed a unique specialty store (my favorite kind) that reminded me of the outdoor markets in Egypt. As I walked in, there were big sacks (potato-like), at least 3 feet high full of everything dried you can imagine from 4 types of polenta, varieties of rice, chickpeas, vats of pickled veggies, pickles, (all open) baklava and other interesting looking middle eastern delights. In the corner was a large man sitting on a stool talking to a couple. He had thick glasses on, although I couldn't tell if his eyes were enormous for that reason, or just because he was born that way, but they seemed to pop out of his head.

As I walked the streets in my tight black workout pants and VIRGIN FLYING SUIT TOP (yup), freezing my butt off, I desperately searched for an American Apparel (YUCK) or something so I could buy something really large to cover up. I had the feeling multiple times that I would be robbed walking around that neighborhood. I also searched for some warmth and found it at this slightly creepy looking (at first) indoor market. There were tons of stalls inside, some I couldn't stand to look at and others with specialties selling prepared foods.

Around one of the corners was a beer shop. I found my favorite (thanks Matthew and Jill) Tripel Karmeliet and some other interesting types of beer.

It took me a while but I finally made it through the 9th and 10th to the 11th where I got to eat the pizza I had walked miles for. The shop was smaller than I had imagined it to be, but still sweet. There was a counter with a few prepared pizzas. I got a square of margarita and one with mozzarella and eggplant. They brought it to the long, narrow, tall table I was sitting at on a little wood block cut into a few pieces. I saw some hot pizza stuff that I assumed to be pepper flakes (which I can't find here) but it was chili oil. I snuck some extra packets in my bag for my own non-pizza related use. The margarita was pretty good, but the eggplant was off and tasted like fish, so I couldn't eat it. It was also relatively cheap, which was refreshing. BUT I still want to go to Italy for REAL pizza.