Eat, pray, play

A recent trip to Paris taught me that sometimes, life is like an artichoke.

1. What you see isn’t always what you get.

2. You have to get to the heart of things.

3. What lies beneath is usually surprising.

4. You have to patiently peel the layers, because what is essential is usually hidden.

And I had to travel half the world, 10,737  kilometers to be precise, to realize that.

* * *

I was in Paris lately upon the invitation of the Center for International Trade Expositions and Missions (CITEM)  to attend the SIAL Food Expo, where the Philippines showed its best food products. SIAL, Europe’s foremost biennial food event, provides food brands the opportunity to connect with more than 5,000 companies and over 130,000 trade buyers from 200 countries. The Philippine pavilion had 15 exhibitors with products, mostly fruit and seafood-based, that reflected the bounty of the country’s soil and seas.

CITEM executive director Rosvi Gaetos also let me and Inquirer’s Vangie Baga-Reyes sink our teeth into Parisian cuisine — both classic and fusion, during our coverage. Our day-long food tour, during which we were accompanied by Paris-based DTI executive Michealle Torres (former editor-in-chief of Metro Magazine), began in a meat warehouse with sub-zero temperatures at the 600-hectare Rungis wholesale market just outside Paris, and ended in a dainty patisserie in the heart of the city.

In our search for the best air-conditioned food market, which many decided was the Le Bon Marché on Rue du Bac, we inadvertently — or was that by design from Above — came across the Miraculous Medal of Mary Shrine at 140 Rue du Bac. From May 1832 onwards the medal, which is extraordinarily disseminated and is said to “convert, protect and perform miracles,” is called miraculous by the faithful. Pilgrims from all over the world come to pray here, a stone’s throw away from the Le Bon Marché.

Food for the body and soul, meters away from each other.

God is magnifique!

* * *

And so I went to market in Paris. It wasn’t all about shopping for designer clothes and bags and shoes (it wasn’t sale season). It was appreciating food — from its raw state (vegetarians, stay out of the meat warehouse tour) to all its visual and flavorful glory.

Rungis, which initially opened in 1969, includes one meat pavilion, one fresh fish pavilion (which is only open before dawn), nine fruit and vegetable pavilions, four pavilions for butter, eggs, and delicatessen products, one pavilion for cut-flowers and the administrative center. It is the largest wholesale market in the world.

We beheld rows and rows of frozen slaughtered cows and pigs hanging from hooks in the squeaky clean and freezing warehouse. Our guide said Rungis sells some 120 tons of meat a year, and supplies only to specialty butchers, meat shops and restaurants, not supermarkets. France, he pointed out, is probably one of the few places left on earth where specialty butcher shops or bouchers thrive and proliferate.

What I enjoyed were the cheese pavilion, the cut-flower pavilion and the fruit pavilion.

In the cheese pavilion, one beheld 100-kilo wheels — not chunks or balls — of cheese. Forty kilos of cheese cost about 500 euros, talk about a wheel of fortune!

Unfortunately, no Philippine fruits, fresh or dried, were as yet on sale in Rungis.

* * *

We had midmorning coffee in Ladurée in the Place de la Madeleine, where we had macarons (not to be mistaken with macaroons) of virtually every color and flavor. When befuddled, choose the chocolate and vanilla macarons.

We went face to face with chocolate tigers at Patrick Roger’s, which sells artisanal chocolates and displays various pieces of sculpture carved out of chocolate.

Lunch was at Mollard at the Rue Saint-Lazare, which first opened its doors in 1895.

It’s like dining in a drawing room of a palace, with its high ceilings, frescoes, and Art Nouveau decor. I had succulent oysters, with just a tinge of vinegar. Plain and simple and heavenly.

After touring the LaFayette Gourmet, the newest food store in Paris, we retreated to our childhood — the La Pâtisserie des Rêves, literally, the “Patisserie of Dreams.” And then it was time to “play.”

The decor of the patisserie evokes a child’s playroom or a kindergarten classroom, and so one feels like indulging oneself again with the sweet dreams of childhood: Eclair, Saint Honoré, Mille Feuille, Paris-Brest. Sugar — without the spice — and definitely, everything nice!

* * *

I cap this food piece with the artichoke. I love artichoke dips, and salads with artichoke, feta cheese and olives. But it was my first time to have an artichoke that looked like a centerpiece in one of Gaita Fores’ exotic floral arrangements.

Parisienne Babette Aquino-Benoit was the one who tutored me on the fine art of artichoke appreciation. And so gingerly, I untied the green leafy artichoke from its string, and peeled back its layers. Each layer is actually composed of purplish petals whose base you dip into a tangy dressing then gently suck. By the time you’re done with the petals, you feel like a bee and your lips have a permanent sexy pout. But your adventure isn’t over. You peel more layers off the artichoke and lo and behold, the cream-colored, crisp white fibrous flesh that we see in the can is finally exposed! Finally, an artichoke as I know it!

And so next time I see an artichoke, probably straight out of a can, I’ll give it a knowing smile and say, “We’ll always have Paris!” Photos by JOANNE RAE RAMIREZ (You may e-mail me at [email protected].)