Happy New Year!

Paris shines in 2025

Bienvenue 2025! So much fun to be in Paris for the turn of a new year. We took it easy on New Year’s Eve day with a late lunch reservation at Le Dôme, a perfect throwback to 1930s Parisian art culture— one could totally believe Picasso and Man Ray were hanging at the next table. Channeling that energy, we ordered some lovely rosé champagne and stuffed ourselves with oysters and Dover sole and even a special house dessert—amaretto and pistachio ice cream—it was really good, I swear! After our very late lunch it was already dark, but we went on a long ramble around the city and explored some chic little neighborhoods decorated for the holidays. Everyone must have been getting ready for a big NYE because the streets were largely empty and it felt very calm. Massive crowds are not my favorite thing, and we knew that with the fireworks set to launch from the Arc de Triomphe that the Champs Elysees would be a madhouse -so we contented ourselves with viewing the display from our very own window and toasting the new year, just the two of us.

Beautiful store front windows at La Samaritaine

A new favorite neighborhood with a long pedestrian street

In contrast, January 1 ended up being a way bigger evening than I anticipated. It started with an impromptu drinks party chez nous with some friends from Dallas who we had run into earlier in the week. There are always people from Dallas in Paris and, curiously, we alway see them down the street on rue de Buci. You can just count on it.

After our little drinks party we set off for a bar called “The Moose”, which I had never been to, but is apparently the go-to bar in Paris for American sporting events. Secret’s out- you now know where all the Texans are hiding in Paris when they are not on rue de Buci. The UT v Arizona State game was set for 7pm and the place was loaded with Longhorns—even the alumni president was there handing out Texas stickers for our lapels.

Texans galore in Paris

I cannot brag on the service or quality of the food and beverage at the Moose, but if you are in the mood for an American football game or if you are missing your fellow Texans whilst in Paris—this is your spot. Luckily, Texas had a substantial lead by the third quarter and we had tickets to a jazz concert across town, so we bid adieu to our Longhorn friends and took off to discover our inner jazz vibe.

We headed on foot to the jazz club, and as my mapping directions got us close, we found ourselves on a little pedestrian side street with a whole host of jazz clubs. There were lines out the door for various spots, all advertising live music. Our jazz club was called Le Baiser Salé (The Dirty Kiss), which I gotta say, kind of made me wonder a little bit in advance if this was really a jazz club or if it was a “jazz club” (winky, winky). Our daughter had given us the tickets to this show for Christmas, but she had never been there either, so we were all in the dark.

When we entered, the downstairs was like an ordinary bar/bistro type of place, but then you flash your tickets and get directed to the back of the house and up a creaky old flight of stairs to the tiniest little room you ever saw that could hold a band, and somehow, 80 patrons. The itty-bitty room had strange seating as well—three rows of really hard, narrow church pews arranged in a U around the minute stage. Obviously, since it is winter, everyone had a coat, but there was nowhere to put them except on your lap in your pew, which made it even tighter quarters as we were packed together like little sardines in a tin. In each church pew though, there was a little drop down tray table in front of you, à la coach class on an airplane, to hold your drink-if you could get the lone waiter to bring you one. It was some pretty interesting people watching— with some old folks, some young folks and some just plain strange folks.

We were not familiar with the artist so we waited patiently to see what it was all about. Finally, about an hour after our arrival the band took the stage and began to play. I am going to confess I do not know a lot about jazz, but the one thing I can tell you now is that jazz is not dance music. It was very tonal and maybe -and I use this word with, not a slight amount of trepidation--intellectual. At one point Les asked me what language the singer was singing in, and I had to hazard a guess that it was just a made up bunch of words -which I have come to find out was what they call “scatting”. A lot of bibbity shoo la la boo kind of thing. Interesting. Unintelligible. Funky.

The pews with stairs to the right

Strange, yes….

Life is an education though, and we gamely clapped along. At the end, we were exiting down the rickety staircase with strains of the bass lingering in my brain, when Les could not help but check the score of the UT game, and lo and behold Texas had lost the lead and it was tied up and going to overtime.

This was hours later and I could not believe the game was still going. We have no tv in the apartment, so we ran from the jazz bar to the nearest spot with wifi and we finished watching it on his phone huddled in a bar halfway back to the apartment. Texas ultimately prevailed (Hook ‘em) but it was after midnight when we headed down deserted streets for home.

After the jazz and football I was ready for a good old-fashioned art exhibit, and so we finally headed to the Orsay for the Caillebotte exhibition, which was fantastic. Highly recommend if you get to Paris in the next couple of weeks. My favorite Caillebotte painting -which was previously housed at the Cox estate in Dallas—Jeune Homme à sa Fenêtre, was on display, and I was thrilled to be reunited with it and to view the many other treasures of the exhibit. It is said that Caillebotte is a painter of men—which is true— women are few and far between in his paintings, but what I love most about his work is how perfectly he paints architectural elements of Paris. Things like ironwork on a balcony, stonework on the buildings, and the wood floors of Paris apartments.

My personal favorite

A beautiful dinner at the recently reopened Maxims followed this, and it was pure decadence. The interior of Maxims is so grand and so over the top it made us feel like extras in a big budget, period piece on turn of the century high society in Paris. We sipped champagne, dined on lamb chops and scallops with caviar— and ordered a flaming dessert, prepared tableside. Quite dramatic! We then repaired to the upstairs bar for more glamorous-ness and struck up a friendship with a delightful Irish couple with whom we have vowed to stay in touch since we will be coming to Dublin to see our daughter and they seemed like a ton of fun to hang out with. New friends!

Check out that ceiling!

Top floor cigar bar—the ceiling is tented but it is open air—it’s like the casbah!

A day of shopping seemed just what was necessary the following day and I was up early and ready to make the rounds down Miracle Mile-or as they call it here- rue St. Honoré. You know the euro has dipped to $1.03, and I was feeling quite flush as I sashayed from one boutique to the next, snapping up ‘bargains’ along the way. Feeling very energized by my incredible cost savings ( you are welcome Les) I wandered in to La Madeleine, a church I have long wanted to see inside, but which has been closed for as many years as I can recall. It, like Notre Dame has had a full refurbishment and was fairly gleaming in the late afternoon sun, begging me to visit. The interior was gorgeous with a triple-domed ceiling that I was completely unaware existed from my observation of the exterior. Just another amazing piece of architecture with little fanfare in Paris.

Who knew this was even here?

The altar at La Madeleine

How many extraordinary churches must there be? Paris without doubt has more amazing buildings, fountains, libraries, squares, museums etc. than you could visit in a lifetime. I think that is why it always holds my attention so completely. The variety of things to see, places to walk, beauty to absorb— is endless. I hope y’all will come visit soon.