Napoleon's and Josephine's Love Nest

Bon jour, mes amies,
This post ought to subtitled "why I hate taking busses," but that's what I had to do to get out to Malmaison, and I have to admit the delightful destination was worth the pain.  I enjoy Paris, but it gets to the point and will get to the point pretty frequently from now on that I will need a break from the big city.
Malmaison, the counrty retreat of Napoleon and Josephine, is way out in the suburbs.  It does take some getting to and hence it's off most tourists' radar.  I had to ask the gracious ladies at the transport information desk what kinds of tickets I needed, which turned out to be one ticket for metro and RER and one for the bus as the destination is way out in zone three and regular tickets won't work.
I easily rode the metro to the RER connection and was swiftly transported to La Defense.
Now when I was planning my trip I thought I would be staying out there, it being a place I could afford to stay.  La Defense is an ultra modern business district all steel and glass towers and a huge shopping center.  I snooted around for a bit before finding the bus station and what I thought was my bus stop.  This is when my troubles began.  I had checked the bus route and when the bus arrived I was convinced that this was the bus to take, but fortunately one of my fellow passengers asked about Malmaison.  No.  This bus wasn't going that far.  Unfortunately I learned this AFTER I had validated my ticket.  It was now useless.  I had to hunt up a ticket machine that would accept cash.  Finally I found one and got my ticket and hopped the correct bus at last.
Malmaison is done up in the fashionable Neo Classical style of the Early Nineteenth Century with a lot of Roman motifs in the furnishings and decoration.  I was struck by the arm chairs that Nap and Josie bought in their early years.  Some had swan arm rests. Others had eagle arm rests.  Both were attractive and yet looked Really Uncomfortable.  The military side is not lacking either as both Napoleon's and Josephine's bedrooms are done up as tents such as would exist in a field camp. Overall the house is very livable.  I am having a hard time deciding between this one and the Petite Trianon for my country retreat.  One advantage of Malmaison--fewer tourists!  I had the gardens and grounds to myself and very pleasant they are with trees and statues and gardens full of flowers.
Back at La Defense I walked through part of the mall including the Marks and Spencer food store--apparently very popular with the French.  Given that it was a Saturday afternoon, the place over all was crowded, and frankly mostly full of uninteresting chain stores.
It's time for the promised butter face off, which I held this morning during mon petite dejuener, so the results follow.  Both contestants are high end butters--demi sel, i.e. half salted with sea salt and de baratte which means that it is cultured rather like buttermilk as much European butter is.  The difference is two fold.  The supermarket butter is made from pasteurized milk (Hey remember Louis Pasteur!  He has a metro stop named after him) and ordinary sea salt.  The fancy fromagerie butter is made from raw milk and the sea salt comes from the gourmet's favorite Noirmoutier.  I can already see a difference in texture.  The fromagerie butter is softer. Both will be consumed on a piece of croissant and washed down with strong tea.
First the supermarket butter.  It's really good--very salty for "demi" sel.  This is far better than most butters one comes across in the United States.  It's got a lovely, distinct buttery taste.
Having cleansed my palate with some sips of tea, I will proceed to the raw milk butter.  Mmm.  Just as salty, but there is a subtle difference in the richness of the buttery flavor.  I'm giving it to the raw milk butter--but not by much.
A demain