Sore feet and Jewish Penicillin

The jet lag took its toll and we slept in super late.  After a quick coffee we rushed out to The Marais neighborhood to visit the Pompidou Center to check out some art.

Our last visit was fantastic with an exhibit of the great painter Lucian Freud, really amazing stuff.  This time, the foreboding sound of throat singing (the antithesis of a siren's call) met us on entry.  We should have heeded that warning and understood that even the Centre Pompidou is capable of some underwhelming exhibits.  This time the work of François Morellet was featured and, at the risk of sounding like philistines, his minimalist/conceptual work (consisting largely of neon tubes) may have blew a lot of minds in the 60's but felt really underwhelming to us.  The permanent collection is always good but honestly we were a bit annoyed by the throat singing which was audible on every level of the complex.

Even the staff seemed a little alarmed and confused by it all as they prepared for the next exhibit

We love miniatures!

This was cool...

...can't beat the view either:

We then roamed around and did a little clothes shopping.  Ned had sore feet so we hunted for socks which we eventually found at American Apparel, of all places.  Still a little tired and worn out, we found solace in the Jewish Quarter.  In the past, we stuck to the delicious selection of falafel houses when visiting this neighborhood.  This time we ducked into a much loved boutique, Sacha Finkelsztajn traiteur. 

We had the best potato/garlic latkes of all time and a variety of boreks (salmon, eggplant and spinach) which were all amazing.  There's a reason why they call Sasha Finkelsztajn the best gastronomie Yiddish d'Euroupe Centrale et Russie.

On our way back to the apartment we stopped for a few odd and ends at the Bonne Marché.  Last time we were here, Ned dropped a bottle of 100+ euro whiskey and ran out.  Apparently they forgot because we strolled right back in, hah!

A demain!