chez jeannette & the night bus
Today I had brunch with C. at Chez Jeannette on Rue Faubourg St. Denis. I had this delicious egg dish which I can’t find the name of on google even after searching a long list of breakfasty nouns called an oeuf cocotte et sa crème de girolles, which consisted of a sunnyside-up egg in a wine cream sauce with champignons. Chez Jeannette itself is great, with high ceilings and comfortably-aging tippy tables and tile floors; bustling and dinerlike. After we ate we walked under the Porte St. Denis and down the street, which is cobbled and lined with butchers and cheese shops and produce shops, and since it was beautiful and warm today we strolled along smelling the air and feeling very happy.
Tonight I had dinner at a friend’s house near the Pantheon, where we made two heaping dishes of tartiflette and talked and talked. On the way back I rode the bus in the wrong direction by accident for 30 minutes or so, very happily gazing out the windows watching the Eiffel Tower flash by at the end of long narrow roads and over rooftops. I was so content that I wasn’t even bothered when we reached the terminus and the bus driver informed me that I was several arrondissements in the wrong direction; he blew out his cheeks and widened his eyes, climbed back into the driver’s seat, and then very kindly drove me all by myself to the closest metro, where he deposited me and told me to get home to bed. So get to bed I shall. Bonne nuit, tout le monde.