Of church and chow

Two historic churches and one fine meal that’ll make you get religion

(One of the many benefits of a relationship with Kelley Bass - this vacation being but one - is having access to his stellar writing skills. I thought I'd let him take command of the keyboard tonight to provide a capsule of the day's events. Thanks, Kelley! -Ashli)

What better place to start the first full day of a Paris adventure than where Paris began – the Ile de la Cite? This island in the Seine was settled in the first century B.C., probably because it was the easiest piece of ground to defend. But the current-day French didn’t even see the four of us coming as we took the place by storm.

First stop was Saint Chapelle, the 13^th-century cathedral that is home to what probably is the most famous stained glass in the world.

The 15 panels that each is more than 50 feet high tell the story of the Bible in amazing detail. The western facing windows come alive on a sunny day, which we were lucky enough to enjoy (though outside the 40-degree temp and 20-mph wind overrode the sun’s warmth, sorry to say). The deep, rich blues of the stained glass are awe-inspiring today, but it’s hard to imagine their power 800 years ago, when viewed by peasant Frenchmen/women living in hovels in much tougher, less convenient, less comfortable times.

Notre Dame, a five-minute walk away, was even more dramatic – a larger, more commanding presence. The highlight is the church’s façade, with entries designed to look like praying hands, and its row of sculpted kings gazing on all before them. From the 1100s to the 1300s, multiple generations worked to complete the church, the ultimate generational “my daddy worked on it, and his daddy worked on it, and his daddy worked on it, ad nauseum,” but only the final generation lived to see it in all its glory.

What better chaser for a double-shot of mega-centuries-old churchdom than a double dip of Berthillon ice cream, some of the best in the world. Must say at more than $5 for a couple of ping-pong ball size blobs in a sugar cone it was a little rich for our blood, but it still was fabulous.

The ice cream got our culinary juices flowing, and we hopped off the Metro at Le Grand Epicerie, the upscale food market next door to Le Bon Marche, Paris’ ultimate department store. On the shopping list: fresh made cheese ravioli, sausage, a jar of chunky, gourmet Italian pasta sauce (as different from Ragu as Sonny Williams is from Steak Out), butter lettuce, mushrooms, baguettes, an eight-inch lemon tart and a couple of nice bottles of Bordeaux. Cooked quickly and with much love, it was enjoyed in the shadow of the illuminated Eiffel Tower.

A quick spiff of the kitchen and dining table extruded all available energy, save a bit channeled through the fingers to weave this tale of fun in the City of Light.

Night, y’all!