Travel: Food and Shopping in Paris - walking from the 10th to the 3rd arrondissements.

In my imagination, I am a chic Parisienne popping to my favourite bakery on a Saturday morning, Du Pain et Des Idees, treating myself to a tarte aux pommes, brushing the buttery, flaky pastry from my perfected painted and insouciant red lips, before strolling down to my favourite shops.

Du Pain et des Idees - Tarte aux pommes. Quite possibly may make it onto the menu on my last supper list.
Fresh, thinly sliced apples encased in buttery puff pastry, with chewy, caramelised bit where the sugar granules and butter have melded together to add that extra bit of oh my gosh deliciousness.

In reality, I've just had a few French lessons and have managed to make myself barely comprehensible at ordering a "une baguette, s'il vous plait". Nonetheless, I proceed with my fantasy and skip down Boulevard Magenta, past the Place de la Republique, and onwards to the Merci store at 111 Boulevard Beaumarchais. The remaining photos in this post will be in black and white, to reflect the Marion Cotillard-like state that has suddenly overcome me.

John Lewis on Oxford Street doesn't have a cute vintage car parked in a cobblestone courtyard to greet its customers, but I (I mean, Marion), breeze through the glass fronted doors in search of notebooks from Khadi and Co, and then into the kitchen department to pick up some wine glasses for the dinner party I am hosting with my BFF, Vanessa Paradis.

Wine glasses purchased, I place them safely into the adorable straw pannier that is attached to the vintage bicycle that I have all of the sudden decided forms part of this fantasy.  I adjust the jaunty silk scarf around my neck and head into La Maison Plisson.

La Maison Plisson is a deluxe, all-in-one, grocery, butcher, fromagerie, boulangerie, and bistro for discerning, tasteful Parisiennes like myself.

I pick up a few special treats for the dinner party, including a variety of cheese and fruit to round off the menu (with Vanessa Paradis, remember?). I almost forget to buy a bottle of Madagascan vanilla extract, made by the Thiercelin, a 7th generation French company.

As a side note, I love any shop that has its own manifesto:

Food shopping done, I scoot back up to Maison Kitsune, to pick up a crisp white shirt.  I'm not sure whether Maison Kitsune is actually a French label, but their little fox logo makes for a modern twist on classic tailoring. I really love Maison Kitsune's playful and colourful attitude to design and it comes as no surprise to find that one of the founders is Japanese. The t-shirt and sportswear collections are especially 'kawaii', especially when matched with their gabardine, school-girl pleated skirts.

Finally, I head downstairs for a well-deserved coffee break in Cafe Kitsune, as I am meeting  my Director to discuss the next art-house film that I shall star in, alongside Jake Gyllenhaal. Et Voila!