We were never a family to sit down and have breakfast growing up – my dad left for work each day around 7 am and my brothers and I likely left for school a bit later. Food was not part of our morning routine. As I grew older, early mornings meant run and yoga time, with my adventures starting earlier and earlier the longer I ran, so that sit-down breakfasts were not a part of my days, either at home or on holiday. Which is maybe why the breakfasts I shared with my dad each day while we visited family in Paris this Thanksgiving were that much more meaningful. There were still early morning runs or yoga, but this time around, the frigid temperatures cut my adventures a bit shorter, which meant that once I returned to the hotel, my dad and I ventured a few doors down from our hotel to what has become our favorite breakfast haunt in Paris, Le PainQuotidien.
Under a November chill, it was always cozy and comforting in Le Pain Quotidien. Some days we sat at a table for two by the window, watching passersby come and go down Rue Montorgueil in Paris’s 2nd arrondissment, lined with cafes, bakeries, and fruit and cheese shops. One day we sat at the end of the communal table, listening in here and there to other’s conversations – some in French, some in English. The last two mornings we sat a table for two towards the back of the first floor, and the proximity of the adjacent tables created the setting that we were out for breakfast with strangers, passing the communal jellies and chocolate spreads and all.
On our second day, remembering that we were American, the waitress provided us with menus in English. But we knew the menu by heart for the most part, as we have eaten there during many other trips to Paris, not to mention to visits to the same restaurant in both New York City and Washington, D.C. What was different about this trip was that by the third morning, I skipped my typical vegan fare of fruit, and mixed it up a bit, one day ordering sweet buttery croissants which I spread with raspberry preserves and Le Pain Quotidien’s hazelnut spread(because when in Paris, why not?), and another day a breakfast bowl filled with quinoa, salad, and sweet potato.
Le Pain Quotidien abounds with memories for me. It reminds me of all things Paris– summer trips, winter trips; holidays with my girlfriends, boyfriends, and time with my family, too. Each time I sit down at a table in the restaurant,regardless of who I am with, it’s suddenly as if the world will wait while we sit safe and tucked away, immersed in conversation, and surrounded by delicious and savory food, and French-style bowls of café au lait, chai, or my dad’s favorite: hot water with lemon.
The breakfasts with my dad this time around were special, because at 87-years old, the trip to Paris, complete with flights to D.C. to meet me, then onward to NYC, and ultimately Paris, was taxing on him, not to mention the endless walking the city requires to get around; the brick-paver streets made him unsteady and tired. Sitting down at the restaurant each morning was an opportunity for us to relax, hang out, catch up, discuss the day at hand. The quote, “tomorrow will be the exact same different day,” appears on the restaurant’s website, and the sentiment adequately describes our morning tete-a-tete’s, during which we discussed politics back home, Paris and how it has evolved, the enormous street traffic that passes through Rue Montorgueil, and life in general – how I was enjoying D.C., when I would be visiting him in Florida next, races coming up, health, friends, and work, too. One day breakfast was at 9 am, the next at 10 am; one day we didn’t head over until 11 am. On holiday, it didn’t matter so much about time, but about tradition, and letting the day unfold in a leisurely manner.
Breakfast with my dad in Paris reminded me of the joy in the small things in life, which I am cognizant often become the most important things in our lives over time. The act of sitting across from my dad, who I know for all my years, through all my ups and downs, all of my losses and celebrations, warmed me and made all of the travel – the hurdles of dealing with flights and airports during the holiday’s – worth it.
The slowing down, the stopping to listen, to sit, to be, is perhaps the most important aspect of our lives. Our mornings in Le Pain Quotidien, taking in the world inside, as well as the world outside, watching everyone passing by on their way somewhere while we sat and shared space and time, warm from the wind and chilled air outside,are perhaps what time with my dad will always mean to me: peace, warmth, comfort, and easy conversation.
