Hello!

Welcome to The Epic! I am launching this blog as a manifesto for and a guide to living well. The title and motto of the blog are taken from the Epicureans, at least some of whom believed in the notion that not one minute of the future was guaranteed to them and that as a result they had the duty to live life to its fullest every moment.

I believe in discovering fun and pleasurable things wherever I find myself each day and I am told I have a knack for unearthing them. My hope is that by sharing in my pleasures and some of my ways of finding them you will begin to collect all the riches that lie in the moments of your life. They are there. Take them! All our lives should be.....Epic.

Monday, August 27, 2012

Bon Voyage


Mr. Robert Treboux, grand gentleman and owner of my favorite restaurant in the world, Le Veau D'Or in New York, died yesterday at 87. 

One afternoon, some years ago, I was sitting at a corner table having a long lunch when a very nice lady behind me complained to her companion that she had been mountain climbing, had been hang gliding, had ridden bicycles everywhere and yet was not very happy.  Mr. Treboux saw me grimace and, pointing at me, said "what do you think of that comment?".  About two-thirds through a great bottle of Margeaux, I turned to the lady (who was blond, from Connecticut, and about my age) and said as gently as I could "I think you need to do less and live more."  She stared at me and then smiled and raised her glass.

He laughed out loud and said "are you sure you aren't French?".

I may never have a ribbon to hang on my dinner jacket, but that was more than enough of a decoration for me.

Photo from the New York Times.

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Paris: River and Boulevard 1


The morning after my adventure to the Ritz dawned drizzly.  Or rather would have dawned drizzly had I awakened before nine. In any case, I thought a drizzly, overcast Tuesday would be just the time to take my first excursion on Batobus, depicted above. 

Someone had tipped me to getting a Batobus multi-day pass before I started on my trip, and it was one of the best pieces of advice I received.  Batobus is a group of river boats which cruise on the Seine in a continuous circuit from the Jardin des Plantes to the Tour Eiffel and back again.  You can see the full listing for this easy and wonderful service here.  The great thing about a Batobus pass is that you can get on and off the boat as many times as you like for the life of the pass.  Just like a personal water taxi.  And the seats are enclosed so any stormy weather you encounter is kept safely away.

Tuesday morning, I ambled from the Isl Saint Louis behind Notre Dame and over to the Left Bank feeling like I actually knew where I was going.  A fine feeling.  The spots where Batobus stops are marked with flags so you can easily tell where on a quai to go.  As luck would have it, the boat had just arrived when I walked down onto the Quai de Montebello.  I flashed my weekly pass and strolled onto the boat as easy as you please.  Honestly, I cannot imagine a better way to spend part of a rainy Paris day than to ride Batobus up and down the Seine.  It is just fascinating...


...for example, the view of Notre Dame from the river.  Other views...

 



The famous "prow" of the Isl de Cite.  There were lovers there...um...loving...how marvellously bohemian!!  I gave the photo another try.....missed them again.  Just as well...


The Pont Des Artes...


The Pont Notre Dame....

...sometimes going under a bridge impresses you with its amazing construction and solidity much more than walking over it.  The Pont Neuf...


The Academie de France...


I don't imagine that my humble efforts here will get me elected to the Academie but I would sure like to have one of these grand outfits they give you as a member, here shown on one of my favorite authors Jean Dutourd...


and of some other grand gents...


any club where they give out swords and sashes is OK by me.
The weather was pretty decent while I was on my Batobus excursion.  I tried to spend all my time on the open aft deck enjoying the breeze...


The Musee' d'Orsay...


Then, you come just far enough up river.  You are peering through your phone to get a shot of the French Senate or some such thing...and you see a shadow from a dream of your entire life...


Then, you hear a young lady on the aft deck near you give a soft gasp.  Then, you see it...




Then, you gasp too. 


Even after a couple of days.  After Air France.  After customs.  After Chez Benoit.  After the Louvre.  After the first of more than a few great meals and bottles of wine.  You, my friend, are in PARIS.




The view above is from the quai after leaving Batobus at the Port de la Bourdonnais.  What impressed me was not so much its height but how wide it is.  There was a lovely carousel and a little Spring fair set up in the plaza at the top of the quai across the street from the Tour.
                                                  
This really cute sweater was for sale at one of the booths of the fair, showing our family's two Papillion dogs and what appear to be a couple of aliens or perhaps Aztec sun symbols?  In any event, I didn't know anyone small enough to wear this size sweater so I passed on to another booth where I was looking at some wallets and purses when I noticed a distinct change in the air temperature.  The weather was taking a turn for the ugly.  I looked around and, having already made a close-up inspection of the Eiffel Tower [no going up for me, I do NOT do exposed heights...at least sober]...I found myself squarely on the horns of a dilemma.  Whether to abandon my original plan of walking from the Eiffel Tower, across the Pont d'Ilena, past the Trocadero and up to the Arc de Triomphe then down the Champs Elysee, through The Tuileries and home, or to get my still relatively dry self back onto Batobus and cruise sanguinely down the Seine back to Notre Dame for a leisurely lunch in some nice little place in the Latin Quarter.  The reader should know that this Epic will stick to a plan.  Particularly when it involves walking all over a new city.  I buttoned up my L.L. Bean weatherproof jacket, wished desperately for a flask of Calvados [in just a few minutes the weather had turned very cold and windy] and turned toward the Trocadero.


A serious storm was brewing.  I made it across the Pont d'lena before the really large raindrops began hitting me in the face...



                                                      

Saturday, August 4, 2012

From Paris To.....Charlotte?



Nothing delights the road-weary Epic more than discovery of a really great restaurant.  Especially an unexpected one.

Since I returned from Paris, I have been traveling a lot but I have not had a really fine meal until last night.  At a little French bistro.  In Charlotte, North Carolina. 

You simply must try Cafe Monte if you find yourself in the Queen City.  The exterior looks like a coffee shop, but the interior decor is very sophisticated and welcoming.  They bake pastries there, including buttery, flaky croissants.  The bar is great.  When I happened by for an after dinner drink two nights ago, I realized I had to try Cafe Monte for dinner my last night in town.  I am very glad I did.

A bottle of the fine Rhone Valley rose, Tavel.  One of my hero Leibling's favorites.  Not your typical "why drink this?" rose but a true Rhone wine with a dark jewel tone color and the chops to stand up to good hearty summer fare. 

Like the house-made pate, peppery and right, with cornichons, spicy mustard and little toasts.  Trout amandine which was the finest dish of the sort I have ever had.  Fresh Carolina brook trout, simply sauteed in a little butter with capers and almonds.  Served over haricots verts and fingerling potatoes.  A simple but towering dish.  Whoever invented trout amandine would have sobbed with delight eating this. After the trout, a bit of cheese was called for and the cheese plate was marvelous with four types of cheese ranging from mild to strong fresh grapes and chopped candied walnuts.  As is proper.  The Tavel was running low at this point, so I finished it with the cheese.  I concluded this outstanding meal with a Calvados, strong black coffee and a plate of three of the house-baked Parisian style Macaroons [coffee flavored, pistachio and lemon] which were perfect and every bit as nice as the ones I ate with a friend in France.  They were perfect with the last bites of the cheese plate...the lemon one was my favorite.


I left Cafe Monte a very happy man and when I return to Charlotte I will return there as well, for restoration.  And for a bit of Paris.


Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Fuzzy Photos From Great Bars


Cafe Monte, Charlotte, North Carolina. Tonight.  They have Calvados.  They have Tavel......the greatest rose in the world. 

Over the door, a quote from Grimod de la Reyniere...

Life is so brief that we should not glance either too far backwards or forwards...therefore study how to fix our happiness in our glass and in our plate.