Sundae in Paris
I went to Paris!
I went to Paris this month and booked my tickets on a Tuesday then landed in Paris on a Sunday. This is just the way I do things.
The weather was rainy but pleasant. I didn't eat as much ice cream as I expected. I was not scared to melt when a rain drop touched my skin but the rain surprisingly made me crave other things instead of ice cream.
After loosely following Google Maps to my destination, the first glace I got to try was at Bachir, a Lebanese ice cream shop in Montmartre. There was a line wrapped around the block and I couldn’t tell if it was mostly tourists or locals but the line moved briskly. The owner/manager brought around vanilla samples coated in pistachio for us to try.
The biggest adjustment to tasting this as an American is it’s not very sweet. Maybe it’s as sweet as things should legally and healthily be and that’s enough to give any American proof that our government wants us dead.
Although it was not very sweet, it was refreshing and I see how it could be more soothing on a hot day versus a basic 45 degree day. The flavors I got were blackberry, apricot, and pistachio with whipped cream. I found that apricot is a popular flavor in Paris and I saw it on most ice cream menus.
Bachir brand signature is coating whatever flavor you want with pistachio and topping it with whipped cream. If I went again, I would definitely splurge on that.
My next ice cream adventure took me to Le Bac à Glaces in the 7th ARR, walking distance from Musée d'Orsay. The first time I tried to go to this shop, all the chairs were stacked on the tables and there were thirty minutes until closing. I didn’t want to be that person so I returned the next day.
The shop was full of women catching up with on another and I got complimentary mint water while I decided what to order. While perusing ice cream menus around the city, I noticed that a lot of them had ice cream sundaes available to order. When you see ice cream sundae on a menu, you immediately think, “When is the last time I had an ice cream sundae?”
For me, I think the last time I had an ice cream sundae was as a senior in high school on the Ocean City Boardwalk and it was supersized, overpriced, and disappointing. So more than a decade later, I was excited to get reacquainted with ice cream sundaes.
What I really appreciated was the waiter not judging me for ordering this and eating it all by myself. It’s clearly meant for two people but little did he know I was eating for two, me and Aunt Flo.
The sundae was constructed of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream—classic. But the strawberry ice cream was actually sorbet making the whole strawberry experience texturally inconsistent and infantilizing. I felt like I was eating homemade baby food when the sorbet was scooped with the banana and whipped cream. Instead of taking turns eating each flavor, I just excavated the strawberry sorbet, consumed it, and got it over with.
This is a pretty unorthodox experience for me since as a child, when my aunt only bought Neapolitan ice cream, we would all fight over getting the perfect strawberry and vanilla combo and completely abandon the chocolate. Eventually she just bought strawberry and cream ice cream—a true matriarch.
Fitting with the sweets being less sweet doctrine, the dark chocolate ice cream complemented the skimpy fudge and bananas. Is there a fruit the belongs more in ice cream than bananas? They’re already so soft and reassuring.
This is a bodega cat I befriended when I went on a late night ice cream run and ended up just getting a Coca Cola and rosé instead.