If you have been reading along, you know that our little one-block street includes two wonderful restaurants right across from our apartment. We had dinner at ChantAirelle Saturday night for our third meal there. By now, we are considered regulars, and the owner presented us with complimentary glasses of champagne and the double-cheek kiss of friendship to Lynn when we sat down to our table. Later, when we told him that we are leaving for Nice on Monday, he printed out a Google map to St. Paul de Vence and recommended we visit there, which we will.
Unfortunately, the other great restaurant on our street, Ciasa Mia, seems to be on break this week after the holidays, according to a hand-lettered sheet of paper taped to the window. Our loss.
But the rest of our little street includes a number of other commercial establishments. Starting from the rue Montagne St-Genevieve end, at 1 rue Laplace is our favorite NFL locale, Pomme d’Eve. Next door to this strange little South African bar is a shop selling African clothing and accessories. No relation–the African clothing store features items from much farther north.
And next door to the African clothing boutique is–inexplicably–a Subway. It is rarely open, but in a city of 13,956 restaurants (according to Trip Advisor), how can a Subway survive. Actually, the better question is why?
Next door to the Subway is a little shop offering small electrical appliances. It has a tiny courtyard in front, and students like to use this as a gathering place.
Our two favorite restaurants are next, and the last shop on that side of the street is a fine wine store. It too seems to be open only sporadically, perhaps by appointment.
On our side of the street, across from Pomme d’Eve at the corner of rue Montagne St. Genevieve is L’Ecurie, a restaurant reportedly renowned for its steak. Tragically, it is closed due to the death of its owner, who apparently passed just the day before we arrived in Paris.
Next door to the shuttered L’Epicurie is an elegant office that publishes and produces fine books. They actually work a regular schedule of seven or so hours a day Monday through Friday. None of the other retail shops on our street seem to be bothered with such burdens.
The entire street is cut off to vehicular traffic by a large renovation project to a building right in the middle of the block. Since we arrived here nearly a month ago, we have yet to see any evidence of work on the building.
Our apartment is bookended by two bars. They obviously cater to students, large numbers of whom hang out in the street outside smoking cigarettes. (Paris finally banned smoking indoors not long ago.) Each of the bars displays a sign prominently posted in the window asking patrons to respect the peace and quiet of the neighbors and residents. They sort of comply.
Finally, on the end of our street at Rue Valette past the bar next door is a travel agency. They too seem to operate sporadically.
All in all, rue Laplace is a delightful little street in the heart of the university area known as the Latin Quarter. We could not have picked a better neighborhood, and we would gladly–eagerly–come back here to stay again. If we can find an apartment on a lower floor. Those 42 steps up and 42 steps down will not be missed.