France, city of lights, and town of whipped cream

Met up with a friend, Julien, who lives in Chantilly, France, a small town 30 minutes north of the big city. Apparently it is famous for horse racing and whipped cream (which I had some of on the first night I was there). Some nobleman, (if you want details, read'em yourselves: http://www.chateaudechantilly.com/chateauchantilly/uk/ which includes a list of films shot there) built a chateau and huge stables there, to host horse events. I visited those grounds on Thursday, June 3. The chateau was splendid. It had a large personal collection of paintings by famous artists, arranged frame to frame by the owner before he died, and not rearranged since. Decamps is one of my new favorites, specifically a piece titled, "Turkish Children by the Fountain." He'd also collected many other famous painters.

The rest of the rooms (a dining hall dedicated to hunting, stained-glass windows depicting a Greek myth, an in-house chapel (presumably so the nobles don't have to mingle with the riff-raff at public churches), and, my favorite, a double-decker, wood-encased library. I even checked out the kitchen, located in the cellar, now converted into a restaurant. Outside, in the formal gardens, a French energy company had assembled employees from several countries, who were racing dragon boats in the canal.

Rode Caroline's (Julien's girlfriend) bike through the countryside a bit, bought some food at the local market, walked the 3-block "main street."
Friday night Julien took me to his favorite restaurant in Paris, le Procope, that's been around since 1686, after taking over the space from a popular theatre. It evolved into a salon for some of France's greatest thinkers (Voltaire) and doers (Bonaparte). Their portraits are on the walls. In addition to the rendezvous in their haunts, the food was delicious too. The young bull and rooster dishes are recommended, and though a non-conessooooeuir of wine, I polished off most of the bottle selected by Julien. We (he) drove around the city afterwards to show me the hot and historic spots by night.

Saturday was spent at their friends' place, in the far north, near Normandy or the crossing to England (I'll have to check the map again), after a long drive through the countryside engaged in a conversation about the economy (national debt and gmo agri-business) and the water and oil crises (notice a trend in serious subject matter?). A friend of theirs was celebrating her birthday in their home abutting a church. Great food, nice conversation (after they'd consumed enough wine to be willing to speak English), and played with their two young children, who adamantly insisted on communicating with me in French. Those French... nice folks.