betty crocker

It is 1:05 am, and I have finally gotten the kitchen (relatively) clean after a baking session with my daughter. This is not because my daughter is particularly messy or demanding -- it's just because baking is messy. Fancy baking is even messier.

My daughter got a cute little birthday present a few years ago -- an apron and a box of cookie recipes, each on a glossy card with gourmet photos that make the cookies look oh-so-yummy! She occasionally fingers through the box, pulling out different recipes, asking if we can make them. I always mumble something resembling "yes," but then the next thing on the list (usually making dinner) comes up and the cookie project is cast aside. Again.

Yesterday, my daughter asked if we could make some cookies from the cookie recipe box, and I told her, "Yes," and I meant it, so I had to add, "but we will have to plan and make them the next day, because we probably won't have the ingredients." With that, the wheels were set in motion. Cookie baking day was on.

She spent a good half-hour looking through and deciding which cookies to bake. "Can you help me decide which ones to bake?" she finally asked. "Why don't you narrow it down to two or three and then I'll help you." "Hmmmm. Two or three. Okay."

She set to work reading the recipes -- roll cookies, drop cookies, bar cookies -- the possibilities seemed endless. She finally settled on two very chocolatey looking ones. "Here, Mom. How about these? 'Chocolate Coconut' or 'Black Beauties.' We've made the coconut ones before."

"We have?"
"Yeah ... they didn't come out exactly like the pictures, though."
Okay, a vague memory of the Chocolate Coconut cookies is coming back to me now. I must have blocked that out of my mind for some reason.

We decide on the Black Beauties, a chocolate and nut meringue, glazed in a chocolate ganache. I pull out the Kitchenaid mixer (which I have not used much since I got it for myself for Christmas) and am grateful that I have it when I read that I have to make the egg whites turn into stiff peaks.

Somehow, my advice to my kids -- "as long as you try your best, that's what is most important" -- does not apply to baking cookies. Because if you try your best, but you burn the chocolate in the microwave when you are melting it, or you mistakenly put in unsweetened chocolate instead of semi-sweet chocolate, or you have only Hershey's cocoa instead of Dutch-processed cocoa, or you have regular granulated sugar and not 'super fine' sugar ... well, you get the idea ... if you don't quite get the recipe right with a 'gourmet' cookie recipe, the cookies just are not very gourmet.

Tonight I learned that burnt chocolate smells horrendous. But fortunately, it scoops out pretty easily, basically as a solid mass, so the rest of the melted chocolate is still salvageable, avoiding a second trip to the grocery store.

I also learned that it is a very, very, very bad to taste the unsweetened melted chocolate -- melted in a Pyrex bowl over a saucepan of simmering water -- before the corn syrup and sugar are added. It looks like a delicious chocolatey mess, just calling out to me to take a lick, but it is a cruel trick. Unsweetened chocolate tastes terrible. Actually, it's worse than that: it tastes nasty. My daughter agrees: "Ewwww, Mom, this tastes nasty!"

Another thing I learned is that my oven re-sets itself when switched from regular "bake" to "convect bake," and when one's eyesight is questionable and one's kitchen smells annoyingly like burnt chocolate, it is very easy to miss the fact that one has just changed the temperature from 250 degrees to 325 degrees. "Wow, these look burnt," I observe, approximately 45 minutes after I have switched the temperature, and five minutes before I realize the mistake and turn down the temperature (thankfully) for the second batch.

The best thing, although not a new thing, that was confirmed tonight, is that my family is very tolerant of my baking mishaps, and quite happy to try out whatever comes out of the oven.

"Mmmmm. Yummy."

I am Mrs. Lucky. My kids probably should be saying, "Ewwwwww, what happened to the cookies? Are the Black Beauties really supposed to be that black?" Instead, my daughter is happily spreading the ganache on the cookies, saying, "These still taste good." As I look at her now, she seems so mature, and I know that I have stressed her out during our cooking project because, well, she used to think I know what I'm doing and is now old enough to realize that I really don't. But she has learned to forge ahead, as I do, in spite of this lack of knowledge base or skill. And she is spreading the ganache just fine. The cookies look almost like they do in the picture!

Betty Crocker may be able to kick my butt when it comes to baking, but I can live with that. I am more than happy to just be Mrs. Lucky, eating burnt cookies with my smiling kids and Mr. Lucky.

more chain mail love

My daughter peeked over my shoulder as I was writing my last post, and thought that I should share this chain mail with you. She particularly liked the part where it says this chain letter has been circulating since the 1800's.

She also thought the "a peach is a peach" poem was gross. And that the rest of it was pretty stupid, and she noticed that even though the email is about "why boys like girls," it was basically girls sending this information to other girls, with only one or two boys listed in the recipients.

That said, I think I need to talk to her about this email and try to temper the be-coy-to-catch-a-boy message that it sends, not to mention all this talk about kissing and slapping. I wonder if there are girls and boys at her school who are truly taking this to heart as what is "normal" behavior and what girls are "supposed" to do at this age ... makes me cringe. I suspect my husband will want to build a tower for our daughter, a la Rapunzel, and keep her there until she is at least 30 years old.

I would love to meet this Anne Wichert person and tell her that it is quite common to get dumped for no good reason. It's not you, Anne, it's him. He would not have had a good reason, even if you had sent the chain mail within one hour to twenty five people.

Subject: RE: WHY BOY LIKE GIRLS! hahaha. i like this one
Date: Fri, 2 Apr 2010 11:33:46 +0000

This chain letter is real so follow the instructions and something good will happen

LISTEN TO THIS LETTER AND GOOD LUCK!!!!!

Sorry, but this chain letter is for real.
When Anne Wichert got it for the first time, she ignored it and a week later the love of her life dumped her for no good reason so BEWARE, and just send the stupid letter!!!!!!

The Lovers of the Heart
In order to form a more perfect kiss, enable the mighty hug to promote to whom we please but one kiss.

Article 1:
Statement of Love: The Kiss
1.Kiss on the hand
I adore you
2. Kiss on the cheek
I just want to be friends
3. Kiss on the neck
I want you
4.Kiss on the lips
I love you
5.Kiss on the ears
I am just playing
6.Kiss anywhere else
lets not get carried away
7. Look in your eyes
kiss me
8.Playing with your hair
I can't live without you
9. Hand on your waist
I love you to much to let you go

Article 2: The Three Steps
1. Girls: If any guys gets fresh with you, slap him.
2. Guys If any girl slaps you, her intentions are still good.
3.Guys & Girls Close your eyes when kissing, it is rude to stare.

Article 3: The Commandments
1. Thou shall not squeeze too hard.
2.Thou shall not ask for a kiss, but take one.
3.Thou shall kiss at every opportunity.

* Remember *
A peach is a peach
A plum is a plum,
A kiss isn't a kiss
Without some tongue.
So open up your mouth
close your eyes,
and give your tongue some exercise!!!

Here are a few reasons why guys like girls:
1. They will always smell good even if its just shampoo
2. The way their heads always find the right spot on our shoulder
3. How cute they look when they sleep
4. The ease in which they fit into our arms
5. The way they kiss you and all of a sudden everything is right in the world
6. How cute they are when they eat
7. The way they take hours to get dressed but in the end it makes it all worth while
8.Because they are always warm even when its minus 30 outside
9. The way they look good no matter what they wear
10. The way they fish for compliments even though you both know that you think she's the most beautiful thing on this earth
11. How cute they are when they argue
12. The way her hand always finds yours
13. The way they smile
14. The way you feel when you see their name on the call ID after you just had a big fight
15. The way she says 'lets not fight anymore' even though you know that an hour later....
16. The way they kiss when you do something nice for them
17.The way they kiss you when you say 'I love you'
18. Actually ... just the way they kiss you...
19. The way they fall into your arms when they cry
20. Then the way they apologize for crying over something that silly
21. The way they hit you and expect it to hurt
22. Then the way they apologize when it does hurt. (even though we don't admit it)!
23. The way they say 'I miss you'
24. The way you miss them
25. The way their tears make you want to change the world so that it doesn't hurt her anymore..... Yet regardless if you love them, hate them, wish they would die or know that you would die without them ... it matters not. Because once in your life, whatever they were to the world they become everything to you.. When you look them in the eyes, traveling to the depths of their souls and you say a million things without trace of a sound, you know that your own life is inevitable consumed within the rhythmic beatings of her very heart. We love them for a million reasons, No paper would do it justice. It is a thing not of the mind but of the heart. A feeling. Only felt.

This chain started in 1887.
It is a love chain letter........................

In an hour you are supposed to send it to 25 people. It is easy, just look into chat rooms and find them. Anyway, send it to 25 people in 1 hour. Now here comes the fun part. You then say the name of the person you like or love and then the person will say 'I love you,' or 'Will you go out with me?'

NO JOKE!!!!!

NOW THE CONSEQUENCES
The consequences are: If you break the chain letter, you will have bad luck in future relationships. If you don't break the chain, then you will be a happy camper!!!

CoNgRatULaTioNs!!

You have been chosen to participate in the LONGEST and the LUCKIEST chain letter on the Internet! Once you read, this letter you must IMMEDIATELY (meaning within the hour) be sent to 25 people After you send it, make a wish and it will come TRUE

YOU MAY NOT WAIT FOR A CERTAIN TIME TO SEND IT........ REMEMBER, IT MUST BE SENT TO 25 PEOPLE WITHIN 1 HOUR, OR YOUR WISH WILL NOT COME TRUE!
If THIS CHAIN LETTER IS CONTINUED UNTIL THE YEAR 2010, IT WILL BE PLACED IN THE GUINNESS BOOK OF WORLD RECORDS!

PLEASE CONTINUE IT NOW!!!
*WARNING* IF YOU DO NOT PASS THIS ON, SOMETHING BAD OR WORSE WILL HAPPEN TO YOU:
NOTE*
THE MORE PEOPLE YOU SEND THIS TO THE MORE LUCK YOU WILL HAVE IN YOUR LOVE LIFE.
IF YOU BREAK THE CHAIN LETTER (IT HAS BEEN GOING SINCE 1887) YOU WILL HAVE BAD LUCK WITH YOUR LOVE LIFE FOR SEVEN YEARS. THIS IS NO JOKE.
GOOD LUCK
But remember, don't send back.Or else the worst thing will happen in your life will happen forever.......I am sorry I send this to you,cause I don't want this things to happen in my life.So, I am warning you.If you don't send,I will have to tell you"What A Pitty Of You,Good Luck"

chain mail love

If you have a tweenager, then you undoubtedly have heard of or seen "chain mail." Tween girls seem particularly enamored with this type of socializing, passing on these email messages far and wide. I have a vague memory of "chain letters" back in the day -- but I cannot seem to remember what they said in them. Did they promise good luck? Threaten bad luck? Guarantee my true love would realize that I was his true love?

I seem to remember one of the requirements being that one would meticulously copy the chain letter, word-for-word, and then give them to one's friends and hope they didn't break the chain. In the modern day version, all a girl has to do is click and send -- complete with misspellings and grammatical errors -- just click, and your world is a better place. Or else. Here is an example of one my daughter was reading recently:

A girl asked a guy if he thought she was pretty , he said... no . She asked him if he would want to be with her forever ....and he said no . She then asked Him if she were to leave would he cry ? and once again he replied with a no .
> She had heard enough . As she walked away, tears streaming down her face the boy grabbed her arm and said....You're not pretty you're b e a u t i f u l . I don't want to be with you forever . I NEED to be with you forever , and i wouldn't cry if you walked away...I'd die ...
> I like yo u because of who you are to me . Your a true friend , if i don't get this back i'll take a h i n t .
Tonight at midnight your true love will realize they like you. Something good will happen 2 you at 1:00-4:00 PM tomorrow , it could be anywhere AOL, yahoo, outside of school , anywhere . Get ready for the biggest shock of your life . I If you break this chain letter you will be cursed with 10 relationship problems for the next ten years . If you send 1 5 ppl this in 1 5 min you're safe.

Wow. If this thing works, something good will happen to my daughter tomorrow, she will have the biggest shock of her life, and she and her true love will have no relationship problems for the next ten years! It's too bad that barely gets them past the legal drinking age ...

motherhood, again

The puppy was my idea. Well, it was the whole family's idea, but I was the one who led the charge to adopt one. We had just finished our big adventure in Paris, and my son reminded me that I had mentioned ... merely mentioned ... that we might get a pet after we came back from our spring break trip. I scoured the internet, applied for rescue dogs and dragged the kids along to every animal shelter and SPCA within a ten mile radius.

On Mother's Day, we went to La Boulange in Hayes Valley, then to the San Francisco SPCA and the San Francisco Animal Control facility. We managed to leave without adopting any of the adorable animals we met, and it seemed as though we would make it to the movie theater, as planned, to see Babies. But we didn't. Instead, we took a tiny detour to Oakland Animal Services, where we had almost adopted a puppy a week before, and I was certain there were no puppies available for adoption (according to the internet listings). The internet lied. When we got to the shelter, there he was -- looking all cute and puppyish. He had me, and he seemed not to care. He was happy to be had by anybody and everybody. I filled out the forms, and we carried him out to the car. We had a puppy.

My son summed it up when he said, "Mom! You're a mom again!" The big difference, of course, is that human babies don't have super sharp teeth -- thank goodness, since I breast fed both of my human babies -- and, another is that human babies are expected to wear diapers. Puppies could wear diapers, but this is considered inappropriate in the dog-person world. Lots of things are considered inappropriate in the dog-person world, many of which I did with regularity with the dogs I grew up with as a child. Like table food. Table food is a no-no. Why? Because, then the dog will always want table food. (Well, of course -- but what's wrong with that?) Instead, we have to find the right formulation of dog food, and stick with it until the dog will no longer eat it, and then slowly wean the dog off of the current food by blending it with a new food, and then we must stick with that one until the dog will no longer eat it, and the cycle begins, again. I have failed on the table food prohibition. I actually cooked some rice specifically for the puppy and made little bite size rice balls for him. I blew on them, to cool them off, too. And he loved them! It was organic brown rice, so I told myself it was okay, even though I am confessing it now as if it could land me in jail. (Okay, I have also given him the crust of some sunflower seed-rye bread, which he also loved. Other than that, I have been pretty good. Really.)

I was pretty proud of myself for having some self-restraint in the table food department. Then we went to puppy training class, and the teacher says to us, "Don't use regular dog treats to train your puppy -- you need something much better, much more enticing, like hot dogs or cold cuts." What?!!! All this time I had been restraining myself on the table food, and the teacher is telling me that I should have been giving him table food. My people-food-deprived pup quickly learned that, yes, the teacher's treats were much better than mine. He could not keep his eyes off the teacher's assistant, following her longingly with his gaze while I tried to get his attention with my plain old organic dog treats from Whole Foods. I've been spending a small fortune on organic dog treats, when I could have just been buying Oscar Meyer.

Woof.

puppy zone

It is a gorgeously sunny day, unlike the gloomy overcast the TV personality meteorologist had forecast, and I was dropping off my daughter at the Community Paint Day in Oakland. We had rushed over from an early morning soccer game, where the sun was still somewhat hidden in the clouds, and the thought of applying sunscreen to my daughter's face had not occurred to me. I rummage through my purse ... keys ... phone ... purse hanger ... pen ... Excedrin ... lip balm ... Benadryl ... ibuprofen ... Nylabone.

No sunscreen, but I have a giant dog treat. Oh, and some poop bags, and a baggie full of kibble.

Sigh. I have entered the Puppy Zone.

Wish me luck.

april in paris: day seven

Wow. The last full day of our trip. Got up and had more potatoes, I think ... trying to clear out the kitchen of the food we bought. More cheese and baguette. I think the kids drank what was left of the Geni and Orangina, and even some of the milk. We started very late, but eventually made it out and walked down the Rue de Babylone towards the Sevre-Babylone station. Somehow, this was the first day that we had walked down this street in this direction, and we discovered a cute little florist just around the corner from us, in addition to a hidden urban park -- complete with WiFi. What? How did we miss this? If we only had another week or two ... sigh ... alas, this was our last day, and there was no time to plan a picnic or just hang out with our laptops in this little park. We continued on and also discovered that this is the shortcut to Le Bon Marche, which we now approached from the backside, where there was ... what?!!! ... a Conran Store?!!! How did this hide from me for the whole week? I guess we were focused on sightseeing, not shopping, and so we never really explored the retail options nearby. Le Grande Epicerie was just down the block, and the Nespresso store was across the street in the opposite direction. Boyar watched as the people lined up for their little espresso cartridges, which came all wrapped up in pretty packages. So Japanese. So French. I wish we had this sort of aesthetic as the cultural norm in America, too. Another reason to sigh. (Sigh.) Only one more day here where people in general seem to appreciate pretty packaging and good quality, not just massive amounts of ... stuff. (Sigh again.) But I digress ...

We find a post office so Mika can send her post cards to her teacher (Ms. Jarvis) who requested a postcard as "homework," as well as a postcard she wrote to her friend Perry. Boyar walked down the street and found a restaurant that he had seen on the French version of Yelp. Scoped it out to see what the hours were so we could try them for dinner. Did a little more window shopping as we dashed over to the Metro and on to Montmartre. It was nice to be able to put our little excursion into context, since we had seen Renoir's Bal du moulin de la Galette at the Orsay, and heard about how artists would go to hang out in Montmartre and live in this creative and more liberated environment. Took the train ride and walked out, got some directions from a local who spoke English when she noticed us looking lost, and marched up the hill toward the Sacre Cour. Since we did not have a valid museum pass anymore, we decided to forego the 5E fee to access the rooftop view. We were high up enough already, being on the highest hill in Paris! The view was good, but a bit hazy. Plus, the kids had already seen the view from the top of the Notre Dame, which was pretty high up, so we all seemed a bit jaded in seeing yet another awesome view of Paris. Walked down the stairs crowded with the audience of the guitar-playing-singing-in-English-and-French guy, as well as said guy, and turned down a little street full of restaurants and shops. Basically, it was like a quaint, charming version of Pier 39. Since we were hungry, we stepped into one of the outdoor seating areas of a brasserie, but after a couple minutes of being overwhelmed by cigarette smoke, we decided to leave. Stepped across the street to one of many creperies and got in line. Had our crepe snack standing on the side of the road, in the shade, and then headed back down the hill to the station. Stopped at a little take-out store where Boyar bought a soda, then kept on walking.

Got on the train and emerged back at St. Germain de Pres, went in search of the Rue de Bonaparte for the Laduree store ... which we found, thank goodness! Ordered a box of eight, went outside, tasted them, then went back in and ordered some more. The rose petal was the favorite, although all of them were quite delicious! We had: rose petal (hot pink), chocolate (darker brown), cafe (brown), caramel (less brown), lime/chocolate (green w/flecks), passionfruit/chocolate (orange w/flecks), citron (yellow), framboise/chocolate (reddish pink w/flecks), vanilla (ivory). Brought home a bunch for omiyage, but realized as we were walking back that we needed more omiyage, so we went to Le Grande Epicerie and bought some more in little boxes with a black ribbon. Between the two macaron purchases, we browsed around the St. Germain de Pres area, stopping in Printemps (Mika got a cute t-shirt and I got a scarf), and we stopped in a Gap Kids store that carried items by Stella McCartney. I wonder if they carried those in the US, too? I haven't spent much time in a Gap Kids lately ... I guess my kids have grown out of that phase. (Wow, that's another reason to sigh!)

Made it back to the restaurant we had checked out in the morning, and the guy said, "It would be my honor to serve you, but we have no seats," and he suggested another place. Went in search of the other place and couldn't find it. Kept walking around and decided to try the Hotel Lutetia Brasserie. The had read somewhere that the interior was designed by Sonia Rykiel, so I was curious to go inside and check it out. I figured that if we got turned away, at least I could see what it looked like inside! Fortunately, they had plenty of seats and we had a lovely server who spoke English well, so we settled in for a nice last-night-in-Paris dinner. I think we had more escargot as part of the starter, then I had the beef entrecote (rib eye) with pomme frittes. Unfortunately, I was expecting skinny frittes, but they were big steak frittes, which was a good thing for Boyar, who likes those big steak fries. Mika had the kids meal and ordered salmon pasta ... I forget what else the kids' meal came with (besides a cute "valise" of crayons and a coloring menu), but it was pretty impressive. We decided to pass on dessert, since we were holding macarons, and got the bill. The bill brought the biggest surprises of all, with a deduction of the 13 Euros for the kids' meal -- apparently, kids eat free at the Hotel Lutetia! What? We should've come here every night!!! It was a nice surprise to have a discount that we were not expecting. Talk about ending on an up note!

We walked back out into the Paris night and took some pictures on the corner near the Sevre-Babylone station with the Hotel Lutetia in the background. An English-speaking woman stopped and offered to take a family picture for us, which was very nice (and actually turned out pretty well). As we were walking back, Boyar suggested we try to catch a glimpse of the Tour Eiffel, so we hoofed on over to the Boulevard Invalides (I think) and managed to see it! Tres cool!

We found ourselves at the Velib bicycle station at the end of Rue de Babylone, and Boyar said, "Who wants to take a bike ride out to the Eiffel Tower?" It was very late, but it didn't matter. We were going to be jet-lagged anyway. Jubilation all around! Then, reality. How the heck do we use this Velib kiosk thingie? After several attempts, we realize that the kiosk is not working properly and we need to find a different bicycle station. We walked down to the Rue Vaneau kiosk, and ... success! We check out two bicycles, and Miles is off to the races. He had been wanting to ride one of these bicycles for the duration of the trip, and he was displaying some serious youthful exuberance riding up and down the little street. We had Mika try out the bicycle on its lowest setting, and unfortunately, it was still a bit too big for her. I took one bicycle up and down the street, and then came back to the kiosk. I decided that I needed to start packing, anyway, and so Mika and I would go up to the apartment and have our macarons while the boys did their Velib adventure. Personally, I think this was an excellent trade, since those macarons were soooo good! The guys had a tres fantastique time riding over to the Tour Eiffel, and got to see it light up again.

Back at our apartment, Mika and I were quite content to eat our macarons and get into our pj's. I knew I wasn't going to sleep anytime soon, since there was packing and cleaning to do, but I wanted to be comfortable while I was doing it. After we had settled in, I was surprised to see Miles, out-of-breath from running up the stairs. "Hi, Miles! How was it?" I asked. "It was sooo much fun, Mom. Do you want to go? Dad still has the bikes out! Please, please, please -- you should go! It's soooooo fun!" From the dining table, Mika said, "But what am I supposed to do? Stay here all by myself?" As tempting as it was, I was feeling very relaxed in my pj's, and wasn't really up for cycling at this point. I was, however, really touched that my son had come back to get me! This trip has been wonderful in so many unexpected ways.

I finally convinced him that I was fine without doing a midnight ride around Paris, and sent him back to return the Velib bicycles. They came back after a few minutes and had some macarons and whatever beverages were still left to drink. We were all tired, yet energized, trying to enjoy every last minute of our final night in Paris.

Good night, moon.
Good night, Tour Eiffel.
Good night, Velib.
Good night, edible snails.

Good night, French ambulance siren.
Good night, patisserie.
Good night, little red restaurant and the Lutetia Brasserie.

Good night, balcony.
Good night, family -- and thank you for taming me.
I go to sleep with bon memoirs.
Au revoir, Paris.

april in paris: day six

Started the day as we might on a Sunday back home, except with a French twist. Boyar made French "special" for our Sunday breakfast. The frozen potatoes had potatoes, onions, sausage and bacon, and the potatoes tasted sweeter are more glutinous. Yum. And, of course, a baguette and more of the super-intense camembert. Started the morning with some Milesisms, like, "If I see one more seventeenth century painting, I'm going to melt" and "I'm Louvred-out" and "Louvreinitis: an excessive amount of pre-19th century art ... or something like that." We told Miles that he was in luck, because we were using the last day of our Paris Museum Pass to go to ... the Pompidou! Modern Art! Made our way to the industrial-looking Pompidou and took in the view from the upper floor. It was another day of good weather, although a bit chillier than previous days. We all had a great time taking in the modern art, with some of the highlights being from Matisse, Picasso, Kandinsky, Rothko, Pollock, Calder ... and more. I will have to look at our photos to remember the rest. After we made our way through most of the upper floor, we walked across the large concrete plaza to Amorino Gelato -- which was quite delicious. Had to use the "my son is allergic" note, which was very helpful, since the clerk realized why I was frantically waving for her to stop giving my son the Nutella gelato. I'm glad Miles was being alert then! After that, we strolled towards the Bastille, passing through Le Marais. There were a plethora of boutiques and shops, some of which were closed, but it was fun to gaze in the windows, anyway. The streets were busy with twenty-somethings, looking hip and stylish. The vibe was like a sunny Sunday in the Castro. We noticed a few restaurants with take-out windows and long lines in the Jewish quarter, and it turns out these were all Greek places -- the lines were for falafel and gyros. We passed on the Greek faire and kept walking, with me stopping in a few shops as we went along. I wish I could remember the name of the French "Anthropologie"/"Gap" store, which had a home store, as well. We stopped at the cacao + chocolat store where I exercised some serious self-restraint and did NOT order a mocha in a take-away cup. The store was vibrantly decorated in lime green and brown, with pretty chocolates all around. We had seen another one of these stores on the Ile St Louis, I think. We stepped into a medieval building/landmark courtyard, took some photos, then emerged onto the little street where a five-piece band with a little four year old dancing around for money was doing their best to work the tourists. A large crowd had gathered, and it was good entertainment for a few minutes. After that, we moved onward and eventually made it to the Bastille obelisk-type monument.

At that point, we decided to make full use of our museum pass and hopped on the Metro back to Saint Chappelle. We came out of the famous Metro station in the plaza facing the supreme court/st. chappelle building, then got in the short line for security to get into the chapel. The stained glass was beautiful, but it was not very sunny outside since it was late, so we marveled a bit, then really ooohed and aaaahed when the sun broke for a few moments. We then dashed over to the Notre Dame, where we were nearly the last ones to get in to climb the stairs. It was a challenging climb, but we made it. We saw an older Japanese woman resting on the side of the stairwell, and I told her, "Gambatte!" and she and her friends pulled themselves together and made it to the top. They were really close, so I'm glad they forged ahead. We went all the way up, even up to the bell tower. We talked about the Hunchback of Notre Dame and looked at the gargoyles from close-up, and the Parisian skyline from our rooftop vantage point. It was pretty incredible. And cold, but that was okay. Very windy. Made our way down as they were closing it down, and the descent was much easier than the ascent. We all tried to count the stairs, and we all came out with different counts. It was somewhere close to 300, I think. After that, we went along the touristy stores nearby and thought about how hungry we were. Tried to decide on a place to eat ... perused the guidebook and tried for a place on Ile St Louis, which was full up, but recommended another place down the street. Headed over to this little restaurant down the block and we were seated in the faux-medieval basement, which was pretty cool. We gobbled up the little slices of salami that were sitting on the table, then ordered. We had a couple starters: escargot and duck leg risotto, smoked duck terrine, and of course, some good bread. For our main course, I ordered the filet of beef, which was excellent. I think it was served with a tiny bit of potatoes. I know Miles also had the beef, but I can't remember what Boyar and Mika had. I do know that Boyar had the prix fixe menu, so he had a dessert (chocolate cake) which we all shared.

We figured out how to get home and eventually found the Metro. Made our way back and collapsed into our beds. Just another day in Paris!