Wealth and Art

Bon jour mes amies,
Whew the heat!  I came home early on account of it and commiserated with a British couple in the lift.  Mr. British Couple was wearing suit and tie, which he pointed out did him no good whatsoever. Even Crazy Guy seems to have taken the day off.  But not me.  Or I least I did not take the whole day off.
I walked around a bit at the morning market and got some cash as I'd spent my euros on macarons. Then I hopped the metro.  Yep.  I wasn't paying attention, so I got on the right line but the wrong direction.  But as I said I feel confident about the metro and I always carry a map, so I looked up at the destinations and where the lines connected and figured out a new route.  I'd planned to walk from the original stop to my destination, and I do not think I had to walk any longer from the alternate stop.
I wanted to visit the Musee Jacquemart-Andre, a place that should be high on any visitor's list.  I paraded down Boulevard de Haussmann.  First let's talk about Baron Haussmann, an Alsatian (borderland of Germany and France in case you were wondering about the name, and he was a Protestant to boot!) who worked for Napoleon III.  Yes.  There were three Napoleons.  Google him. So Nap III noticed the tendency of Parisians to block off their narrow streets when the revolutionary mood took them.  Haussmann redesigned a lot of the city so it looked lovely and so the broad avenues gave the military access--you know--just in case.
It was during this period in the late nineteenth century that wealthy connoisseur Edouard Andre had his portrait painted by the lovely artist Nellie Jacquemart.  Romance ensued, and we are the beneficiaries, mes amies, because although Nellie never painted again (which irritates me), she and her husband collaborated on a fabulous house and marvelous collection.  The grand house--which I have claimed for my own should I ever choose to move to Paris--is an enchantingly lovely urban mansion--all marble, gilt, silk, marquetry, and, most astoundingly, Tieopolo frescos, shifted and repurposed from other villas.  I picked out some delightful little marquetry tables to move to my condo in the unlikely event that the city of Paris resists my move into the house.
Now the rooms and furnishings alone would be enough to make the joint worth visiting.  But . . .
We interrupt this post to note that Crazy Guy is back below dancing and chanting.
Now where was I?  Oh yes.  Edouard and Nellie were COLLECTORS, and boy did they collect, and wow did they have the means to do it.  Nellie loved the art of the Early Renaissance and so Botticelli and Mantegna are in evidence as well as a distinguished set of Rococo works.  There are a lot of paintings and statues that would not disgrace the Louvre.  So next time you are in Paris, don't miss it. The audio guide is free and also they played Late Baroque music.
And another thing.  I lucked into an exhibit of Giotto and followers and Caravaggio and followers that nearly made up for my stupidity over Velasquez.  And should you require refreshment there is a popular salon de tea in which you can dine under another Tieopolo ceiling.
Then I walked back to the Grand Magasins--that's big department stores to you--Printemps and Galeries LaFayette.  Both are beautiful stores and well worth visiting although you may not be able to afford any of the designer goodies on offer.  Both offer tourist discounts in addition to the Value Added Tax waiver that non EU foreigners get, and this is a seriously good deal in case you are tempted by an expensive item.
So as to food.  Cheese.  Le fromage.  I finished off the Valencay finally, and it was so good, so I took a trip to Rue Mouffetard and a fancy cheese shop where the nice young man in charge had a cheese platter in his stock, which means I get to try four cheeses, plus a premium raw milk butter.  These are mostly cow's milk cheeses.  I don't recognize the names, and there is a goat cheese.  I got a baguette--because what's cheese without one?--to have with them.  I first bit into a rich tasting, yet mild, pale yellow number with a thin rind, which I cut off.  The next bite is from something called Brun de Noix, which does have a rather nutty taste, and very pleasant it is.  The third is another pale yellow cheese with a rind, but the taste is subtley different and good!  Is this the goat cheese?  And then a blue cheese--once again rich tasting yet surprisingly mild and not like Rouquefort at all.
I enjoyed all the cheese selections.  But what about the butter?  Divine!  I'll do a comparison of the fancy fromagerie butter and the supermarket butter in couple of days.  The French are into flavored butter, i,e, seaweed, citrus, pepper, and this fromagerie offers a sampler, and yes I was tempted.  But I decided to stay pure.
A demain.