Visiting the Deceased

Bon jour, mes amies,
We have uncertain weather here in Paris with short periods of rain here and there.  I had my umbrella up for the first time.
As some of you may know the last thing I need is an appetite stimulant, especially on my trips when I walk so much, but I enjoy the custom of aperitivo, and I practice it abroad and often at home.  It's just a nice way to mark the transition into leisure time.  I have been sipping sparkling wine and having some olives and a few nuts as my aperitivo, but today I am being much more indulgent.  More below.
I had some of the rose honey this morning on a piece of toast.  It smells and tastes just like rose flavored honey.  I liked it.  Your milage may vary.
After a futile trip to Rue Mouffetard because I did not know fancy cheese stores were closed Monday, I came back and hopped the metro.  I had a lot of long, boring metro rides, but I must say the destinations were worth it.
My first stop was the basilica of St. Denis.  I emerged from the metro delighted to find that the nasty car park structure had been replaced by a respectable looking shopping center.  Only then some guy accosted me--in French--so I had no idea what he was saying.  When I blew him off, he called me an "Imbecile."  Hey!  I understood that much French.
The story goes that Denis or Dionysus as he was known in the old days was killed for being a Christian during the persecutions by the Roman Empire.  He was beheaded on Martyrs Hill or Montmartre in French, but being a saint he picked up his head and walked off with it--no doubt followed by the astounded spectators--until he reached the site of St. Denis and indicated he wished to be buried there--and so did many of the kings and queens of France.  Seeing the royal tombs is interesting--even Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette ended up there, but St. Denis's other claim to fame is that it introduced the Gothic style of architecture to Christendom.  The basic structure of the church is Romanesque as one can see from the facade, but the Abbot Suger (pronounced Su-jay) adapted the Islamic pointed arch with some innovations of his own, including stained glass to create an instant sensation.  It's well worth the trip out to see--although next month the metro stop will be closed. Entry to the nave of the church is free, but if you want to see royal tombs and the Gothic ambulatory you have to pay.
The next stop was the Cemetery named after Pere LaChaise.  As it happened I'd not been there before, and it was interesting to walk around.  The sister of a friend of mine lies here, but my friend declined to tell me where.  I did not go celebrity grave hunting, but maps of the cemetery are for sale or available on line if you are interested in Chopin, or Oscar Wilde, or Edith Piaf, or Jim Morrison--and a host of others.  One thing that struck me was that many graves and memorials boasted fresh flowers, and these were not for the recently deceased.
What's this business with aperitivo?
Right now I am sipping at a kir, or rather a kir royale, since I made it with sparkling wine, and if you want one in Paris nearly any cafe will do you one for about fifteen euro.  Here's how to do it yourself. Take a small amount--say a tablespoon or so of cassis liquor or syrup, top it off with white wine and a splash of soda.  That was the traditional way that Canon Kir treated the sour white wine of his region.  If you use sparkling wine you don't need the soda.  If you are not bourgeoise like me, you may have red wine and call it a communard.  Most refreshing after a hard day of touristing.
The next part is problematical.  If fois gras offends you, skip the next paragraph.
Because I have some fois gras de canard, which I prefer to goose liver.  These water fowl have an instinct to cram preparing for migration, an instinct humans have exploited as the water fowl store fat in their livers, a taste for which dates back to the Ancient Egyptians.  Humans deliberately overfeed the birds, who are are otherwise better treated than most poultry in the United States--inducing diabetes which grossly (heh) enlarges the animals' livers.  Humans then kill the birds eat the flesh, but reverently savor the liver.  It is served slightly chilled on toast in small amounts because it is rich. Fois gras is commonly served as an appetizer with sweet wine or dry sparkling wine.  I am doing the latter.
So are we back together?  All the contenders are still up and riding in the Tour de France, which is a good thing.  I expected a fiercer contest for the yellow jersey. Maybe it will materialize in the Alps?  But tomorrow is a rest day, so I'll be going farther afield.
A demain.