Goodbye Paris

There are two things that are integral to my personal happiness:

1) The time, inclination, environment and inspiration conducive to writing.

2) The availability of things to do–people to see, errands to run, laundry to do, appointments to be upheld, other people’s problems to solve–when the desire to write has escaped me.

In theory, I should be able to write anywhere, and I have: all the cities I’ve lived in (and some I haven’t) have seen some variation of my well-intended, if not always meaningful, insightful or even good, prose. But it’s Paris I want. Voila, c’est si simple: I love New York, but I love Paris more.

I’m in Cannes now–it was here that I decided to move to Paris from Toronto in the first place. Stepping out of the train station was like stepping into my past, and I spent the day pointing gleefully at everything I remember, like a giddy child. But now I’m back in my room–the same room, oddly enough, that I once shared with the Canadian… God it feels like forever ago–and my thoughts have turned to Paris. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to hear about the place I’m currently resting my head.

I was only in Paris for four days, and hardly that, but it was enough to remind me of everything I love about this city. I went on long, ambling walks, first with the Almost Frenchman, and then by myself: I ambled through the stalls of my old market, remembering with shock the things I hadn’t realized I’d forgotten: the giant asparagus as big around as a pepper grinder and bright, bright white. I don’t even know what I would do with them if I bought them… God knows I was itching to; I would have bought asparagus and peas, poulet fermier and 30 eggs. I would have bought without abandon to stock my fridge, if I’d had a fridge to stock or more than three days’ worth of meals to prepare.

Yesterday, the sky turned grey and cold, I made the two-hour trek to Stalingrad, where I met my cousin, the Actress, to pick up ingredients for a goodbye meal. As I waited for her in a small café, I was struck by that overwhelming urge I feel sometimes, the one where paper doesn’t appear fast enough, where the pen won’t etch the letters quickly enough. Scribbled on the back of my bank statement is the outline of the book I’ve been finding it impossible to write for the past year. Suddenly, it all made sense, and I spent four hours on the train down to Cannes today typing it up, hoping that the feeling wouldn’t disappear, but I know it won’t.

For the past few months, New York has been what Paris failed to be when I left: I had a job, a place to live, people I loved surrounding me. I had enough things to do with my day that by nightfall, my fingers itched to type, my brain craved dumping the experiences I’d had and the things I’d seen into word documents scattered across my desktop. But it’s not enough–it’s Paris I want, Paris that inspired me in that café, where I could have just stared at the sidewalk and waited for the Actress to emerge from her meeting, could have just read the Marcel Pagnol novel I’d toted along with me as I sipped my impossibly perfect café crème, but instead, I wrote.

The Actress did appear, in the end–the perfect person to snap me out of a reverie if only because she’s just as enthusiastic about her projects as I am about my own. We browsed in the international supermarkets–no well-stocked Food Emporium for fish sauce and tamarind paste here, and we went home to create pad thai for a handful of Parisians I had to say goodbye to in the wee hours of the morning, after hours of conversation and laughter.

Pad Thai

Note:  The key to this pad thai’s success is really the sauce. After that, you can add whatever you like: I’m including suggestions I’ve used, but feel free to toss in your own mix. Just be aware that proteins need to be cooked fully before adding the sauce to avoid contamination, as the final product does not cook for a very long time.

1 package rice noodles (I’ve also used 2 packages of Shirataki noodles, for those watching their carbs)
2 tsp. vegetable oil, separated
1 onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 chili pepper, minced

Proteins (choose any or all of the following)
4 chicken breast halves, cut into chunks
1 package tofu, diced
2 eggs

Vegetables (choose any or all of the following)
1 head broccoli, cut into florets
1 cup frozen mushrooms, thawed
3 scallions, cut into pieces about two inches long
1 jar baby corn, drained
2 cups snap peas, cut into strips

3 Tbsp. tamarind paste
1 Tbsp. soy sauce
4 Tbsp. fish sauce
2 Tbsp. brown sugar

4 Tbsp. peanuts, chopped
2 limes, quartered
a handful of cilantro, roughly chopped

Prepare the noodles according to the directions. Toss with a teaspoonful of oil and set aside. Mix the sauce ingredients together and set aside.

Meanwhile, in a wok or heavy skillet, heat the other teaspoonful of oil. Add the onion and saute 1-2 minutes. Add the protein you are using (except the egg) and cook until nearly cooked through. Add the vegetables you are planning to use and cook 2-3 minutes. (Note: if using raw broccoli, I like to add a bit of water to the pan at this step and cover for a minute to steam).

Add the sauce and noodles to the pan and toss until everything is well-coated and the noodles are hot. Transfer to a serving dish and top with peanuts, lime wedges and cilantro.