maoz végétalien

Day three in Paris started similar to the rest, alarm clocks and coffee shops.  Yes shops, plural.

Starbucks has soy milk, so the lactose intolerant people went there.  Paul has buttery pastries, so the dairy consumers went there.

Sadly, Paul doesn’t allow photography inside.  I know that because I got in trouble the first time I went in, camera raised.  The second time I channeled my inner paparazzi peeping Tom and got these shots.

Even loitering a few feet from the doorway (like a creep), I could smell how delicious their treats were.  Melted butter is pretty much the smell of France.  And it’s amazing.  They offer more than pastries, cakes, and desserts, though.  They have an impressive selection of bread (country-style, fancy, sweet and savory), viennoiserie (croissants, etc.), pancakes, snacks, salads, and made-to-order sandwiches.

Paul is pretty much the quintessential French bakery.  They were founded in 1889 and now have over 360 shops throughout France.  If there’s one thing that 200 years of pastry-making says, it’s tradition.  The tea-rooms prepare everything on the premises, which is why the aroma is so damn intoxicating.

Starbucks has pretty legit looking sweets too though…definitely a different selection from the American locations.  They had pancakes stacked and ready to be warmed in the toaster oven – how cute is that!?!

Anyway.  After we got our goodies to go, we strolled along the Seine until we reached the Musee D’Orsay.  I love this museum a lot lot lot.  It may be my favorite actually.

It has been under construction for quite some time, but the pieces by my favorite artists were still on display…Van Gogh, Degas, Renoir, Monet, Manet, Cezanne, Pissarro, Sisley, etc.

We spent just over an hour there and managed to see everything we wanted.  And the gift shop only sucked us in for a few extra minutes before we were off to the next sight!

That’s a lie, we stopped for boissons and crepes (it sounds drastically less French when I say it out loud).

Hearing Ashley order a crepe avec banane was one of the best (slash worst) parts of the day.  The word is definitely not pronounced ba-na-nay, and we were all dying of laughter after the waiter gave her a raised eyebrow (which was one of the kindest responses to us butchering the French language we got all vacation).

Next up, Napoleon’s Tomb.

Meh.  I don’t know if this place was worth the visit, but we had our 2 day museum passes so it was free.  Truth be told, I remembered feeling the same way back when I first went in 2004, but for some reason Laura and I still scheduled it into the day.

Someone has an ego!

The Rodin Garden was next on the agenda.

Ah Le Penseur.  So pensive.

Don’t we look just like them?  Yeah, no.  We really don’t.  We spent approximately 20 minutes in the garden (construction kinda killed some of the ambiance) followed by a few minutes in the museum.  That may not seem like very long, but all I wanted to see was “The Kiss.”  I think it’s perfect.

I’ve sketched it so many times I know it like the back of my hand.  Dang, I really need to start drawing again.  I digress…

Lunch time?  Not yet!

 

I know Notre Dame is supposed to be THE cathedral of Paris, but Sainte Chapelle is my number one.  It’s funny because the first time I went, it was all built up to be this amazing Gothic chapel with blow-your-mind stained glass windows, and I walked in and thought “this is it?”  Then I went upstairs…

The word you’re looking for is… “whoa.”

I wish my photos captured even a fraction of the beauty.

And then, finally, it was time for food.

I have a looong history love affair with maoz vegetarian.  Our relationship began when I studied abroad in Barcelona.  What started as an innocent late night snack (read: drunk food) soon blew up into a full on obsession.  Despite the fact that my senora packed my lunches every day, I still wound up getting falafel gyros at least once a week.  I was sad to leave Barcelona, and thus my beloved gyros, behind when I returned to the states.  Then I moved to NYC and – guess what – they had maoz!!!  I worked near their Union Square location and lived near their UWS location, and frequented both often.  So I think it’s safe to say, I’m a pretty big fan.

The maoz in Paris is in the Latin Quarters on Rue Xavier Privas.

 

[Not my hand]

If you are a maoz virgin, it’s a simple premise.  You choose how many falafel you want (regular has 5, petite has 4), then you choose what kind of pita you want (wheat or white). You can add on whatever extras you want – like hummus, eggplant, avocado, feta cheese, and babaganoush (each costs extra).

After they make it, you take your pita to the toppings bar and go nuts, trying to shove as many different things (like curried carrots, roasted cauliflower, and a tomato/cucumber salad) on top.  The poor pita must feel like spanx, trying to hold in far more than is intended to be smooshed in.

They also have salads if you don’t want to attempt to stuff everything but the kitchen sink in a pita.

As you can see, I was rather ambitious.  The falafel and hummus aren’t even visible underneath all the toppings I heaped on.

 

We enjoyed them in the sun outside Notre Dame.  Happy vegan lunch.