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There’s not much in this life I enjoy more than strolling and sniffing out the week’s new treasures at an open-air market, careening from one deceivingly innocuous stall to another, only to find each brimming with seasonal jewels from the land and the sea.  Market day, for me, is a colorful, remarkable and unabated pageant of optimism: displays of camaraderie, kinship, sharing, learning, connecting, giving—us earthlings at our best.  One sweet bite of summer’s first peach, one sip of apples, pressed into cider before your eyes, or simply an insider’s tip to prepare that vegetable you’ve shied away from, you can’t help but feel all warm-and-fuzzy about your farmer, your community, your family, your life.

It’s the little things.  It’s always been about the little things for me.  Whether under a sky blue canopy, early Sunday morning, along the verdant foothills of Northern California, or a bustling Wednesday afternoon within an 18th century village in the south of France, the anticipation of Market Day, along with its farmers, ranchers, and artisans, becomes woven into the fabric of our daily lives.

Whatever day of the week it lands on, I love knowing—with no uncertainty, it’s always Market Day somewhere.

MUSIC PAIRING:  J.S. Bach, Cello Suite No. 1 Prelude


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Dear Christmas in Paris,  Why did you have to end?  We were SO good together.  Please write back.  I miss you.  Love, Hopeless in California.

I’ve been reciting this love letter in my head, day and night, ever since we returned home from our trip.  The City of Light is undeniably magical anytime of the year, but during the winter months, it’s especially so.  The city is effervescent, almost buoyant.  It’s chilly, but never too cold.  Just enough of a bite to lend itself nicely to studious and dedicated café hopping.  Crowds are at a minimum, which means one, and only one thing: more pain au chocolat for moi.  We spent Christmas dinner at our favorite neighborhood bistro in Le Marais, and slowly strolled down the snow-dusted street back to our apartment, whilst trying not to think about the hauntingly delicious chocolate mousse we had left behind.  I have no mailing address to send my love letter, so I’ll settle, instead, by reminiscing the Top 10 Reasons to Visit Paris in the Winter, and why I fell for hard for it.

1.  Less crowds.  The once unconquerable will now be yours.

2.  No jet-lag.  For the first time ever, I escaped the arduous jet-lag monster.  Walking briskly in chilly Parisian air is the antidote.

3.  Shorter line for macarons at Pierre Herme. (Ladurée doesn’t hold a candle to Pierre Hermé).  You’ll be surrounded by a rainbow assortment of flavors in this jewelry box of a stop, but trust me…you need only know one.  Mogador.  Soliloquy worthy good.

4.  More of a chance the Chocolate Mousse won’t run out at Chez Janou. The mousse is served up in a bowl the size of Texas, which you are encouraged to scoop up with a gargantuan spoon to your heart’s content.  Ou la la.

5.  Availability of flights and lodging. We booked our flights and apartment one week before we left.  Forget the hotels costing beaucoup bucks full of tourists, rent an apartment and live like a true Parisian.

6.  For the Passion Fruit Eclair at Eric Kayser.  Yes, he’s legendary for his breads, but after one bite of his Passion Fruit Eclair, you’ll no longer have any time for baguettes.  His shops are strewn across Paris, but my favorite is the one on Rue Montorgueil.

7.  To buy cookware at E.Dehillerin. You’ll feel like an interloper, but forge on ahead.  It’s one of the most arse backwards, exhausting, incomprehensible purchases you’ll ever make.  It’s miserable and delightful.  You’ll laugh, you’ll cry.  What I love about E.Dehillerin, is you can have the most checkered past, or you can be The Queen of England — they don’t care.  You’ll be treated with the same degree of incalculable delirium.  Hello 1820.

8.  For the secret shortcut to enter the Louvre. The entrance sits in the passageway leading to Rue de Rivoli.  It’s so stinkin’ sneaky and speedy, you’ll feel like you just got away with heisting Mona Lisa herself — in broad daylight, no less.

9.  To channel Victor Hugo. Wander the rooms where this famed poet, writer and dramatist who penned Les Mis, lived and wrote.  The Maison de Victor Hugo is one of my favorite small, off-the-beaten-path museums.  Plus, l’entrée est gratuite.

10. A chance to hold your husband’s hand, as you stroll through Le Jardin des Tuileries, with the winter sun quietly setting behind the Eiffel Tower…and never letting go.Oh, and a little housekeeping for the new year: I’ve finally joined the masses, so come follow me on twitter!

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With Love

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