Flea Markets & cous cous restaurants & Dinner by Daughter
A short metro ride to the enormous, but mainly closed for winter and Christmas flea market at de Cligancourt. Alleys of chilly antique lit, closed stalls, pink carpeted halls of gorgeous artistically stacked tapestries, statues, frayed glamorous furniture with carved niceties. So pretty to look at, so much history in the wear and tear, I love this stuff, as my own house reflects with its own eclectic piles of beaten family heirlooms, spotted with hard rubbish finds and cooking icons that engage the chef in me.
Ogling some vintage Chanel jewels we heard an English accent, Mama started a conversation with the Angleterre and we where pointed to the best value, most fun food experience so far. A family owned Restaurant specialising in cous cous. Destination descriptions being too difficult, considering the maze of the market, we where taken by the husband of the shop owner . An ex - PE teacher who reached 40 and made a life-valuing decision to move to Paris.
Cous Cous with anything, vegetable, fish, chicken, sausage etc…
We arrived at the same time as a large table of locals who ended up ordering for us …..Vegetable cous cous for three with braised lamb and a medley of winter veg in a spiced, comforting broth served with a platter of light steaming cous cous … all perfect.
Bella, beautiful and 15 years of age, gave me the night off, she cooked: sautéing Portobello mushrooms serving them atop braised white beans in rabbit broth, perfect with a salad of pear, fennel and mache. Cooking is genetic and environmental, having father and mother as chefs, Bella has absorbed more than most people will ever know about food, restaurants and service, being the world toughest, bluntest food critic. At 4 years of age, she sat with me at a commercial cookery school restaurant, announcing that the waiter was, “not very good” …. And ….. “ I think they mean caramelised, but its burnt”. Explaining that they where all just learning, she looked confused at the thought.