L'Appart: The Delights and Disasters of Making My Paris Home

Baking again, writing about France, and cooking la cuisine française in my new kitchen eventually helped me remember why I had moved to Paris, and why I wanted to stay. I love being able to run down the street to buy a freshly made baguette for breakfast from a boulangerie where the clerks now know me. And I love walking home, holding the bread by

Paris was always Paris, and the French were…well, the French. But because of what happened—j’avais mûri, I had “ripened,” as they say. Living abroad, I learned and acclimated to different ways of doing things. Sometimes it’s learning not to touch the produce at the market. Other times, it’s going into a situation expecting the worst, instead of the

A major expense in the renovation was going to be replacing the windows. I already had a bid from a highly regarded window company in Paris. If you are willing to pay for it, the service and quality in France is second to none. Go to Hermès and buy a 23,000-euro handbag, or to l’Ambroisie in the Place des Vosges for a 600-euro lunch, and you’ll see

A French friend later told me one thing you should never do is show enthusiasm when you find a place you want. One should point out everything that’s wrong right off the bat and act like it would be a great imposition to even consider living in such a place.

It’s not always easy to live in Paris, and sometimes the city seems to do its best to make things more difficult. Like New Yorkers, Parisians have a complicated relationship to their city. They appreciate the beauty and excitement, but as Romain told me, Paris is dur (hard). That things aren’t easy—l’administration, the neighbors, the brusqueness,

Parisians also have a reputation for not being overly enthusiastic. A sticker you’ll sometimes see around the city reads: J’ rien. J’suis Parisien, “I love nothing. I am Parisian,” a self-acknowledgment of their reputation for dissatisfaction with everything. Appearing enthusiastic can come off as unseemly, often construed as being très américain.

The double-digit arrondissements are more diverse, and each has a distinct feel. Being more working class, there’s a greater sense of community. Some are certainly less polished than the single-digit arrondissements, with narrow streets and passages instead of grand avenues, but they have a more neighborhood feel.

I had learned from having a few architects in the apartment that, unlike me, architects in Paris love going into basements and caves, where the “bones” of buildings are. Unlike American structures, buildings in Paris are hundreds or thousands of years old, and no one loves French history more than the French. Go underground, and you can actually se

When French friends heard I was getting a dryer, they had only two words for me: très américain. But I was tired of my apartment looking très Naples with laundry hanging from every window, railing, and doorknob, and I was spending hours a week washing and drying my clothes. I ironed what was necessary in what little space I had. Once, when I just d