Day 4 in Paris: Cafe Beaubourg

There's a cafe on Rue St. Martin that looks quite popular despite it's minimal decor.

The first thing that you'd notice are the rows of chairs facing outwards, a very odd but normal practice in all Parisian cafes. Maybe that's why they don't get along with Americans.

The second thing that you'd notice is that it's just next to the modern art gallery, Centre Pompidou, which is a very popular spot for street performers & artists.

Well, you can't see any at that moment. Sorry to say, but the old dude on the left is not one of them. It was still too early in the morning & they're all probably still asleep.

The national past time of Parisians is to look at people. They spend all their afternoons drinking wine like water & eating their baguettes. They do not work.

We didn't think that Cafe Beaubourg had anything special. It was more of a popular spot where people hang out to watch other people. But we did get to try the infamous French Citron Press & their hot chocolate.

The hot chocolate was heavenly. It was like Milo multiplied by a hundred. The chocolate was super rich, super thick & super aromatic.

Although Nee absolutely loved the Citron Press, I just couldn't take it. One sip & my face shrunk & everything got pulled into the middle, like there's a blackhole there. This is the most evil super sour drink ever conceived by humankind.

Needless to say, you could walk into any cafe in Paris with your eyes closed & their baguettes & butter would be top notch mou tak teng.

And an exceptionally plain scrambled eggs.

I don't exactly know what a French waiter's job description would be. But I think it shouldn't be difficult to guess - know the menu well, take orders, crack jokes, make customers happy, carry ten plates on one arm, get rid of flies in the soup & to serve with speed.

But what I didn't know was that waiters at Cafe Beaubourg can also do bicycles.

Ahh, I'd have to say it again, Cest la Vie!

Two Malaysian bloggers in Paris trying to act local.

Geez, it's that old dude again. I think he's stalking us.

Day 4 in Paris: French Crepe

Everytime we passed by this shop, it was either we were looking for something else more substantial to eat, or that we already had something really substantial somewhere else & had no more room left.

It's located somewhere along Rue St. Martin which was a long stretch of road that will lead you to the Centre Pompidou, The Church of Merri & towards the banks of the River Seine (where Notre-Dame & The Louvre are located). So that explains why we saw it all the time.

This shop sold crepes. I've always loved crepes especially the crispy ones (with bananas & ice-cream) that you can find in Tokyo & used to be at Midvalley Megamall. I LOVED that! Oh how I wish I can have it in Kuching! (whisper: I hope Nee gets the hint).

Well, I don't know whether this was the standard in Paris but they only had non-crispy savoury ones which was a major huge disappointment to me. You see, to me, crepes meant something for dessert & it was a snack. It was not supposed to be a meal like this.

We ordered the one with chicken, cheese & mushroom. I think it cost something like €4.50.

Nee absolutely loved this & obviously I didn't. Not that it wasn't good. On the contrary, it was very well made with the right level of stretch & spring in its texture, & it tasted fine.

Nee performing some SIRIM ISO 9001 quality laboratory testing.

But it just wasn't my kind of crepe. If I was a kid at that point in time, not getting my crepe would mean that I would be sulking, rolling on the floor 360 deg. & doing the tornado plus helicopter plus tsunami all rolled into one. But of course I didn't want the Indian guy to think I was crazy.

The guy is good. I guess it's because there's no difference between doing this & making roti canai.

You duh-hwop some fromajzh into zee cuh-hweep like zis...

And Wallah!

Is that original? I don't know...