To guide me around Paris and ensure all my dining needs are met I decided to shun all traditional travel guides and instead leave Sydney armed with nothing more than three French editions of the Australian Gourmet Traveller. Mock me if you will but I was putting them to the test. So how did they fare?
The July 2009 edition featured a day in the life of Patrick Vuitton (great-great-grandson of THE Louis Vuitton) which apparently involved Patrick volunteering a list of the 'magical Paris' his grandfather showed him every Sunday when he was a boy. For lunch, Patrick liked to enjoy a real croque-monsieur - as opposed to a pre-packaged number (screw nose up, make gagging noises) – from a little bistro called Ma Bourgogne found right next to the Place des Vosges. Well, if it's good enough for Patrick, it's good enough for me. I decide I want a croque-monsieur for lunch from Ma Bourgogne too.
A croque-monsieur is really just an exotically named toasted ham and cheese sandwich with cheese melted on top. Obviously the French, being French and far less pedestrian than the rest of us, manage to turn this into a gourmet item with an inviting, gourmet-sounding name.
Apple is always keen for bad food (he never seems to put on any weight, remaining svelte and as handsome as ever despite the daily diet of Nutella crepes) and Online Trainer can always order an iceberg lettuce salad if he's going to be moody about all the cheese, so I rope them both into my croque-finding mission. Fatigado needs a spell of good, solid, uninterrupted rest (or maybe just some alone-time to update his facebook status) and so stays back at the apartment.
My hotel-issued map tells me the Place des Vosges is only just under 3½cm away to the south-east (I measured it with a ruler just to ensure accuracy). That's not far at all. I'm excited. Dating back to 1605, the Place des Vosges is the oldest planned square in Paris and essentially marks the beginning of urban planning; now though it houses a beautiful park-like garden around which bistros and restaurants have sprung. Fortunately the Place des Vosges is also in Le Marais and borders the 3rd and 4th arrondissements – easy walking distance from our accommodations. Only 3½cm. So that's what – 10 mins, tops?
It might be easy walking distance but Ma Bourgogne is not easy to find. Tucked away on a corner, it turns out to be a surprisingly large restaurant with table cloths and large, expensive dinner-style meals on its carte du jour. It is not a bistro at all. Even worse, not a croque-monsieur graces the menu anywhere. I ask the waiter if there are any croques available (perhaps there is a daily specials menu? Perhaps there is a separate lunchtime bistro-style menu?). Irritably the waiter barely conceals his rolling eyes and issues an abrupt "no". I wonder if perhaps my Gourmet Traveller, being the 2009 edition, is out of date. When pressed the tetchy waiter assures me that never a croque did so much as get within sniffing distance of any menu at Ma Bourgogne.
This I find hard to believe. After all, it is in my Gourmet Traveller. Patrick says so right here on page 132. Patrick, of the House of Louis Vuitton, no less. Modern-day Parisian royalty.
A croque-less Ma Bourgogne with table cloths and tetchy, short-tempered waiters has lost its lustre for me. I came in search of a croque-monsieur. A croque is what I want.
Online Trainer was obviously raised well. He attended expensive boarding schools in foreign countries, has impeccable table manners (he even holds his little pinkie out when using a knife and fork – a rarity not seen too often in downtown Coogee), was the Chairman of his University Wine Society for two years running (a bit hilarious, I know), speaks with a charming mixed-up international accent, and knows a thing or two about behaving properly in fancy places. It is fair to say that at times he likes things Just So.
While Apple is a well-travelled fashionista and international Man of Mystery who loves dining out in fabulous, expensive places drinking fabulous, expensive wines with fabulous friends (that's me) he was, at the end of the day, raised in Australia. He therefore has that tried and tested laissez-faire 'what the f**k' attitude that goes so beautifully when people like me decide on the spur of the moment to throw a bit of a tantrum and insist they are not eating until there is a croque put in front of them.
Time is getting away from us. The time it has taken us to actually locate the croque-less Ma Bourgogne, secure an outdoor table, and bicker with the waiter has made me hungry and a little tetchy myself. Abruptly I stand up, place both palms on the white, freshly laundered table cloth and announce (much to Online Trainer's dismay - he is not a fan of creating scenes in nice places) that I am off to continue my croque-finding mission. So. Be. It.
Apple jumps up, joins me immediately (he's always up for a fight) and we stomp away in unison, our matching Havaiana thongs slapping the pavement in harmony. Online Trainer pauses – probably to allow a bit of distance between himself and the embarrassing Aussies he just so happened to be accidentally sharing a table with ever-so-briefly, or maybe even to offer some sort of apologetic explanation to the tetchy waiter – and finally emerges some moments later.
Of course, he doesn't complain. He doesn't say a word. That's how well-brought up he is. He is a testament to his parents, his expensive private schooling and his years of tutelage at the Wine Society.
Shunning the unreliable Gourmet Traveller we continue our search independently and eventually locate a quaint little bistro serving croques. A croque for each of us - even Online Trainer. I dare say he wasn't game to order anything else at that moment.
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| The sought-after croque-madame |
It turns out though, that there is a choice of croques. Not only are there croque-monsieurs (the ham and cheese toasty), there is also a croque-madame. Can you believe it?! A croque-madame is the same as a croque-monsieur but with a fried egg on top. How good is that??
Naturally, I now want one of those. The Gourmet Traveller has inconvenienced me enough and thus I feel deserving of the extra egg.
To be honest, I'm not sure who to blame for this lunchtime disaster. Either Patrick was giving us the run-around just for the laugh or the Gourmet Traveller failed in its duties in providing sound dining advice. Or now here's a question, does the Gourmet Traveller have a duty to confirm whether Patrick is giving us the truth or telling fibs prior to going to print?
Either way (or 'either which way' if you are Fox FM radio DJ Jules Lund*) it was now clear that neither could be trusted again. Not during this trip anyway.
* Jules Lund has a very bad habit of inserting the phrase 'either which way' into most sentences he utters. It seems it is a 'filler phrase' - a way of biding time, creating a pause, or providing a moment to help collect his thoughts. It annoys the shit out of every listener and, it seems, his colleagues. Not to mention that it doesn't even make any sense. After a tirade of emails from listeners, his colleagues decided to do an on-air intervention. Find it here - scroll down to 1st June 2011.
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