Glasgow and Hot Dogs

This is not the same group as last week - note David Leslie noting himself in the club's booklet.

News from the 'Café Metropole Club'

Paris:- Thursday, 9. December 1999:- Welcome back all 'virtual' and real charter club members and all members who have not yet joined, with or without the mild formality of clipping the club's membership card - not obligatory! - out of Monday's 'News About the Club' in this week's edition of Metropole.

As usual, Jan Shaw is the first to arrive for today's meeting and as usual she says she doesn't know where Dana Shaw is, and as usual he comes in five minutes later without any notion he was 'lost' in Paris.

The weather is perfect for residents and visitors in Paris. However, as has often happened in past weeks, the low sun bats into the café La Corona - giving the café's interior horrible bright-light spots - which will ruin any photos I don't ruin myself.

It would help a lot if the Institut de France over on the left bank would raise its coupole a couple of stories. But it is not raining nor anywhere near snowing, so I shouldn't complain.

Today's waiter - 'garçon' - is Monsieur Ferrat. For him, Jan Shaw has an unusual request. She wants a big cup of café with a little pot of hot milk on the side. She thinks this is called a 'café noisette,' but Monsieur Ferrat says it is 'un grand café americain avec du lait apart.' Calling it coffee-hazel-nuts instead sounds fine to me.

While we are waiting for real club business to start Dana Shaw tells me about the patisserie-chocolatier shop two doors away on the same street as the café - with the same address as the café by the way - which has the best 'croque-monsieurs' in Paris.

This is a very big claim because there probably are about 3500 other places that make them in the city. Dana says the 'Cabor's' croque-monsieurs are heaped up with mounds of grated cheese and - but he is interrupted.

Other regular club charter members arrive in their own good sweet time, and we pass around the handshakes and 'bisous' with server-lady Linda Thalman and Kathleen Bouvier.

Dana is interrupted 17 times and all I find out is that the 'Cabor's' croque-monsieurs do not have mustard in them.

For readers who are coming in late, a croque-monsieur is a staple of every Paris visitors' diet. It consists of two slices of buttered white bread with a piece of ham in between and with grated cheese on top. These are grilled until the cheese melts, and they would be good if they had mustard in them.

Most of them are perfunctory, and they are often over-grilled. The idea of them has great potential that is seldom realized, so finding a place that makes the 'best in Paris' is a major feat. Bravo Dana!

One interruption has come from the out-of-breath arrival of Linda who has to tell us she found a parking space near Invalides - a couple of kilometres - the metric system again - away and across the Seine. Bravo Linda!

The other interruption comes from Kathleen, who needs to show us her brand-shining-new, never-used, bona-fide French 'carte d'identité.' We all 'bravo' Kathleen for this extraordinary and authentic demonstration of determination and courage.

Dana manages to get in that he thinks maybe the 'Cabor' uses not only more cheese, but better cheese. As everybody knows, General De Gaulle once said France had too many different kinds of cheese, and since he said it several hundred more have been added to the national reparatory.

Dana went to school in Paris for a couple of years a ong time ago and he remembers that there was no 'white, sliced bread.' He says there was a bread he thinks was called 'monk's bread' and it was sliceable. Most regular bread was breakable, but baguettes were too thin to slice for sandwiches. Science advances, and you now see baguettes sliced too.