demi-pêche

There was a thing that looked sorta kinda like a can opener, but I had no idea how to use it, and thought there must be another somewhere. So I emailed Sandrine, the normal inhabitant of my studio and she replied that yes, that red thing that looked like a paraplegic robot butterfly was, indeed, some kind of crazy Euro can opener. Yesterday I tried to use it to open a can of tuna, which didn't go so well... I ended up breaking off part of a wooden spoon and also part of the can into the tuna, so I had to pick out little wood and metal bits from my tuna but I didn't slice my hand open as I initially feared when I began the undertaking of prying the lid off haphazardly. Not slicing your hand open is my definition of success.

Today I was pleased to discover that the Bibliothèque Historique de la Ville de Paris, which is a 2 minute walk from me, is not only open to the public but also free to those over 18 who register with a photo ID (it's an archival library so they have to be picky about who they let go probing about in their old old old papers with their oily hands) and it is also available to people like me who have no intention of using the archives but just want a nice place to work. So, I look forward to spending many contented hours there in the familiar occupation of reading and writing in semi-darkness. However, I am giving myself a reprieve from work until Mieka leaves, with the rationale that it is still summer vacation, of course. Tomorrow morning I will pick her up and the touristy part of my stay in Paris will commence, as she has never been here before and we will hit all the museums and stuff.

Tonight I saw an excellent jazz quartet featuring Noam's cousin on piano, as well as a xylophonist, a bassist and a drummer. They were really awesome! And I got to meet several very nice friends. Most were just introduced, but I got to speak a little more at length with Xavier-Paul, Kenza, and Sarah, and they were all very friendly. I also met Noam's father and his little sister, Mona. I want to give my kids anagram names!

The club was entrée gratuite--consommation obligatoire, meaning you can get in the door, but you'd better head straight for the bar if you intend on staying. I was going to have a glass of wine, but then had second thoughts about the quality of the wine at a jazz club, and asked Noam what he was having. He said that he was going to order a "demi-pêche."

"Demi-pêche et demi-quoi?" I asked.

"Demi-pêche et demi-bière."

Half peach liqueur and half beer?! That sounded truly repulsive. But, apparently it's a French classic, beside the fact that many of the world's most delicious things sound disgusting if you've never tried them (see: peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches, fries dipped in a milkshake, and the Dutch treat of chocolate sprinkles on bread spread with butter, which Mieka finally convinced me to try a couple weeks ago). So, I gave it a go.

And, well, it was disgusting. Never try it. In fact, never try new things at all!

That low point of the evening notwithstanding, I had a great time. All of Noam's friends are writers and at one point they passed around a notebook and wrote a collective poem about the concert, which sounds slightly lame but I assure you it was quite good, and I'm not just saying that because I contributed to it.  ¶