Bill's Pick: Laetitia Casta

T+T has been seriously lacking in sex appeal lately. It's time to bring back the Bill's Pick section. My mom will be really happy to hear that.

To celebrate my time in France, Bill picked a nice French girl named Laetitia Casta, who exemplifies the beauty of French women. Effortless, chic, natural and a little exotic. I'm not jealous or anything...

She is a successful fashion model and also appears in several French films, most recently, Les Ames Fortes.

That band Brand New from a few years ago wrote a song about her called "Magazines":

"Laetitia, you destroy me/So I can see why I feel so lonely/When you and me could be forever/Perfectly perfect together..."

How sweet.

Au Marche (With Accent)

Spices

Chickens, heads intact

Mmm...sausage

Cheese counter, my personal favorite

Ze French butcher

Sometimes, the grocery store just doesn't cut it. When you want your food so fresh that the veggies still have dirt all over them and the chicken is still feathered, you need to hit up the market.

If you're bad at math like me and can't do kilo-to-pound conversions in your head, just say how much money you want of something, like "2.50 euro worth of spinach." That way, you spend however much you want and don't wind up with too much of something.

At most cheese or pastry stands, you can taste (gouter) something if you ask.  Or there are lots of free samples around.

Whatever you do, don't go to the market hungry.  You'll want everything in sight and get it at the first stand you see, which might not have the best prices.

Happy shopping!

Songs, Cell Phone Lingo, Blog

Our lives are full of lists.  Whether a list outlines groceries, Christmas wishes, names for your unborn child or potential boyfriend candidates, lists of every nature are both insightful and concise.  

I recently found three lists in my room when I was cleaning papers off my desk.  Here are their stories:

The first one was from one night when I went to a bar called Le Motel in Bastille, Paris with some friends.  It was full of hipsters and people who claimed they had a friend of a friend who knew Pete Doherty.  Basically people who were way cooler than me.  Anyway, after several drinks, I became curious as to what the DJ's favorite songs of all time were.  I went up to him with a pen and paper and asked him to write down his favorite songs, nervous that he would think I was a huge dork.  I approached him with the cute American girl attitude, because obviously hipster thing wasn't working for me...I guess he liked me because he took the time to get a new pen when he saw the one I gave him didn't work.  Here they are:

1.  Live Forever by Oasis

2.  Starman by Bowie

3.  Eyes of Winova by All Stars

4.  Poison the Chalice by Neimo

5.  Floors and Ceilings by Miggles

6.  Falling Down by Oasis

He signed his name, Nico Prat.

Yes, I've stalked him on Facebook more than once.

The next list was created during a conversation with Boubacar (see previous post).  I asked him to write down some French cell phone lingo because I was curious to see how it compared to American cell phone lingo.  It's the exact same principal: sounds of the regular word are shortened into single letters or numbers with the same sound.  Here are some examples:

Ojod8=aujourd'hui=today

2van=devant=in front

Kan=quand=when

T pe=tu peux=can you

Svp=s'il vous plait=please

The third list is from the end of last summer, when I was sitting out on my patio with my friend.  While sipping gin and tonics, we were thinking of names for our blogs that we were going to create.  For the last several weeks of summer, I had nothing to do and desperately needed a hobby so I thought I would try my hand at blogging, thus Tea and Toast was born.  If it wasn't called Tea and Toast, these were its other name options:

1.  Boats and Britches

2.  Patio Chat

3.  Cool Kids Sit in the Back of the Bus

4.  Burnt Toast

5.  The Junk Drawer

Gettin' My Culture On

When you live in an American dorm in Paris, it's difficult to practice your French because everyone around you speaks English.  If you actually give a merde about learning French in this situation, you can get a conversation buddy which is what some of my friends have done.

A few weeks ago, I decided I wanted one for myself because I wasn't learning French as quickly as I wanted.  So, I went down to the lobby to look at the bulletin board which is plastered with ads for moms with "3 enfants, tout tres agreable!" who need baby sitters, people selling their mini fridges and people who want to practice various languages with someone else.  

One ad in particular stood out...it was hand written, one version in French and one in English.  The person's English was pretty bad, which I took as a good sign:  I would be forced to speak only French with this person and really help them improve their English at the same time.  The add was signed "Boubacar" and included an email address.  

Gee, I thought to myself.  Can't say I've ever had a friend named Boubacar...I bet he'll be...different.

Our meetings take place about 90% in French, and I quickly learned that he was indeed different from the people in my usual little New England world.  He is from Mali and has been living in Paris with his aunts for the past few years to study.  He has eight brothers and sisters, all who still live in Africa, and he was the only one to move out and go to school.  His English is about as good as my French, but he is self-taught.  

Usually, we meet in the lobby of my dorm and sit on the couches and talk for a few hours.  One day, we decided to change it up a little, so we went to a museum he told me about: Musee Quai Branly.  It was a really cool place with both modern and ancient artifacts from all over the world.  It had all kinds of crazy African masks, Native American scalps, beautiful hand-woven blankets and instruments, just to name a few of the items.  

We took a couple pictures in the museum next to the pieces, which was totally dorky, but Boubacar was really excited about using his camera so I just went with it.  

So, what exactly do a white girl from Connecticut and a dude from Mali who can't really speak each others' native tongue talk about, you ask?  Well, everything really.  Our families, cooking, sharks, mosquitos, forms of child punishment, the circus, music, etc.  The point is to practice speaking, so whatever pops into our heads becomes a whole conversation.

After a few more meetings in the lobby, I invited him out to dinner with a couple of my friends and I.  We went to a Moroccan restaurant in Bastille and it was soooo good.  We ordered this chicken and steak dish for all four of us which came with couscous and delish vegetable soup.  After, we ordered a pot of the best tea I've ever had-it was packed with fresh and dried mint leaves and sugar.  

Boubacar wasn't as chatty as normal with my friends, but afterward he told me that it was his first time being out to a restaurant in Paris.  I don't really go out to dinner much either, but it's my last few days here and I wanted to treat myself.

Today during our meeting, his aunt called him because she needed help with something.  She lives right down the street from my dorm, so Boubacar said I could come and meet her.  When we arrived, his cousins greeted us at the door.  Sophie, who is 13, seemed shy upon meeting me but she wanted to practice her English so we got to talking about American music and she was very friendly.  Then his aunt came in and seemed delighted to meet me.  She wore a headscarf and a loose dress with an African print and looked exactly like Sophie.  She needed help packing her suitcases because she was going to Mali soon for two weeks for the holidays.  

My favorite of the cousins was Ibrahim.  He was about four or five and ADORABLE.  He was getting dressed in the living room and put on jeans and a little sweater vest and then needed help with his belt which was way too big for him.  He sat next to me and was showing me his sister's iPod, speaking in cute little kid French that I could understand.  Everyone else spoke at a hundred miles an hour, so I just smiled and nodded most of the time and chilled with my new pal Ibrahim while Boubacar helped with the suitcases.  

Later, another female cousin came over, about Sophie's age.  When Boubacar and I left to go back to the dorm lobby, they were giggling and whispering, probably because they thought Boubacar and I were dating or something.  He told me I would have to forgive them because they were being crazy girls.  I guess being a crazy teenage girl is universal.  

Jewish Love

I only have ten days left in Paris and it's just hit me.  Soon, I won't be able to casually see the beautiful Pantheon building as I stroll to the bar with friends or grab a crepe at the nearest corner just because I want a snack.  

I've been spending these last few days exploring parts of Paris that I didn't get to too often, like the Marais.  It's right in between the 3eme and 4eme arrondissements and very easy to stumble upon without even realizing you're there.  The area is known for it's Jewish culture and quirky shopping.  

The first time I went here, I was dying for a bagel and lox because I heard of the abundance of Jewish delis in the area.  However, I couldn't seem to find any B+L because bagels are literally NOWHERE to be found in Paris.  So instead, my friends and I went into Micky's Deli because it looked cool from the outside.  We didn't look at the menu before hand, which we should have, because all they sold were hamburgers for 17 euro, sandwiches for the same price or salads (but who gets a salad at a Jewish deli?).  We all splurged a little for a designer spicy beef burger, which came with a big blob of baba ganoush, a fried egg on the burger, a pickle and a ton of fries.  

The Marais is also great for vintage shopping.  I came across two stores, both of which were packed with second hand clothes that were very reasonably priced.  One is called Coiffeur (right near Micky's Deli) and has loads of leather boots for 35 euro/pair and all the flannel shirts you could dream of.  Expect to hear James Blunt playing on their stereo.  I got myself a pair of dark red slouchy leather boots which I wore out that night.  The other store is called Frip Irium, which I didn't spend as much time in, but this one has more space to shop and lots of sequins...think figure skating costumes and 80's club tops.

Another store I got a kick out of was Noir Kennedy.  I guess this is the Trash and Vaudville of Paris, where all the toocoolforschool punk-rocker kids shop.  The guy working there was tall, skinny, mohawked, pierced, denim-studded and all around intimidating looking, but he gave me a friendly "Bonjour."  Gotta love a hardcore dude who speaks French.  Great selection of band tees, Cheap Mondays jeans in every style and my personal favorite: pants that were leggings and jeans fused together, with prints like neon yellow with black lightening bolts or pink and black leopard print.