I want to be a French restaurant aka the non-official meanings of "se faire"

I recently received an email from work colleagues saying, "We want to 'se faire' a Lebanese restaurant." (On a envie de se faire un restaurant libanais). From contextual clues, I gathered that it meant they wanted to go to a Lebanese restaurant. But just to be sure, I typed it into Google translate. The translation was: "We want to be a Lebanese restaurant." Teehee. Turns out google translate is not always great for informal phrases.

For those who know French may remember that faire means "to do" or "to make," and adding a "se" in front of a verb makes it reflexive. Thus we can assume se faire means "to make yourself..." This is the "real" definition, to make yourself into something is to become something or to be something (like the literal translation of wanting to be a restaurant).

But familiarly, se faire is used to mean quite a bit of other things. Like in the example, se faire + a place means to go to that place "se faire un restaurant" or "se faire un cinema," etc. I have been told that this is a common expression, although I have only heard it this one time so far. You can also have se faire + someone... which means something completely different, and in fact has two possible meanings. The first means to yell at/fight with/beat up that person. The second means to sleep with that person. So I can only guess what it means if my friend says they are going to se faire their neighbor. Being France, the second meaning is the more popular one.

Paris Fête de la Musique 2012 aka I want to rock and roll all night and have a wonderful time

Thibaut (the French way of writing "Tebow!") and Etienne rocking out. 

The weather in Paris has been super crappy lately... slightly rainy, overcast, and way too cold for June. So I am hoping that the Summer Solstice this Thursday will bring lots of good music and good weather. Well, I can be guaranteed half of that at least! Since 1982, France has held the "Fête de la Musique" (literally, "music festival") on the longest day of the year, promoting, as a play on words, "Faites de la Musique," (literally, "make music"). It's basically a music festival/party where professional and amateur artists perform all over the city. Some perform in bars/cafes/clubs, some perform on the streets. There are performances everywhere in Paris (and has extended to other parts of the world too!) And the best part is that it is free.

The concept was originally conceived by the Minister of Culture, Jack Lang, based off of the Nietzsche quote "Sans musique, la vie serait une erreur" (without music, life would be a mistake). I just love the idea that the whole city is in a large festival together.  My friend from Brazil says its her favorite day of the year in Paris because it reminds her of Carnivale.

Last year, I just came back from Rome with Marisa and Priya on the day of the fête. At the time I had no idea what was going on, and was tired from vacationing (I lead a hard life). But we were able to enjoy the music in the streets making its way through our apartment window as we were cooking dinner. So I am eager to enjoy the festivities this time... even if it looks like it will be raining.

I hear the best way to enjoy the day is to choose an area and just walk around. And it seems walking is the best type of transportation anyways because roads will be blocked (difficult for buses and taxis) and metros will probably be very crowded. All types of music genres will be playing, including jazz, rock, classical, indie, etc. I've heard that the different areas of Paris are usually known for specific types of music, for example Republique is good to hear rock songs and Palais Royal is good for classical.

As the French proverb goes, "La musique adoucit les moeurs!" (roughly translated, Music softens attitudes/Music has charms to soothe the savage breast).

Mathematics of speaking like a French person: negative x negative = positive

Full of food and ready to argue with each other.

Parisians love complaining. I think it is in their culture to be quite negative about everything. So how do they say something positive? Easy: you negate a negative. Not to say that they never describe something as "super-bon" (super-good), because they do. But, when they say a double negative, that is just as good of a compliment. For example, when a French person says that a restaurant was "pas mal," although it literally translates to "not bad," they really mean that it's a good restaurant (better than not bad, in English terms). Or if a guy says "Elle n'est pas moche," literally, "she is not ugly," what he means is that she is quite pretty.

But don't be fooled! Such as with all rules in the French language, there are exceptions. Saying something is "pas terrible," literally, "not terrible," actually means that it is VERY terrible. And sometimes, if you say something was "terrible," for example "Le concert était terrible!" literally "that concert was terrible," it actually means that concert was great!

The French language is terrible!

Picture taking playground: Monumenta by Daniel Buren Exhibition at Grand Palais

Looking through two glass ceilings at the checkered ceiling at the top of the glass roof in the
Grand Palais.

Last week, I went to see one of the many exhibits at the Grand Palais: Daniel Buren's Monumenta 2012 (on display until June 21). It really is a photography playground, with installations of glass ceilings of different colors placed around so you can let your inner photographer run wild and play with the different colors and angles. It is only 5€ to enter, and is an interesting exhibit that can last anywhere from 10 minutes (if you just walk through) to an hour (if you decide to take lots of pictures and eat there). But it also gives you a chance (or excuse) to see the Grand Palais, which was built for the 1900's World Fair.

Arrows on the road leading to the Monumenta exhibit.

There are usually many simultaneous exhibits at the Grand Palais, which hosts art/photography exhibits, fashion shows, and other events or exhibitions centered around daily life or cultural happenings. Make sure you get in the correct line for the exhibit you want to see, otherwise you could be waiting for a while only to find out that you have to wait in another line. For the Monumenta exhibit, there are striped arrows leading the way.

View of Monumenta installation.

In the center of the exhibit, right under the main glass dome of the Grand Palais, are mirrors so you can look at installations and people at different angles. Beware, girls in skirts!

Telling you guys "bonjour!" through the looking glass.

P looking at Monumenta from the staircase in the Grand Palais. I think he might actually be looking
at other people's food below.

At one side of the installation are grand (and beautifully ornate) staircases so you can have a bird's-eye-view of the glass ceilings. There is also a food stand to buy (expensive) food and drinks. But then you can chill at a table under your chosen ceiling color. Green would be a good choice so you can pretend that you are eating something healthy.

French kid scooting around the exhibition.

I don't know what the rules are about what you can and cannot bring into the exhibit, but it seemed pretty lenient (unlike other exhibitions in Paris). Definitely cameras are allowed (they even have competitions of sorts to for the best photos taken Monumenta). I brought in a water bottle, and kids and parents brought in strollers and razor scooters.

Mini-Cocottes are much cuter than Regular-Cocottes

Deliciousness in tiny portions: mini-cocottes with carotte/coconut milk puree and tomato soup
topped with a large crouton topped with tapenade.

Although this title may also apply to the second definition of cocotte (see: a woman with loose morals), cocottes are more respectfully defined as single-serving baking dishes, typically with handles and a lid. In the past year or so, the mini-cocottes, which does not fit much more than a few (regular-sized) spoonfuls of food, have become more popular. Especially for apéritif (or apéro)! If you have experienced French culture, then you know one of their favorite (or is it just mine?) time is apéro... the time before dinner where you drink (something light, like a kir or beer), have some snackies, and socialize.

For Christmas I received (and actually, also gave) mini-cocotte sets and mini-cocotte apéro recipe books. There is a nice combo pack by José Maréchal sold in France for less than 16€ , although I just looked on Amazon.com and it was selling there for $46. But imagine all the little casseroles you can make in these! Now that my life has settled down a bit, I decided to finally make my first mini-cocotte attempt. Pictured above is the carotte and coconut milk puree, topped with marinated cilantro and  warm tomato and onion soup topped with a crispy crouton and olive tapenade spread. They took less than 30 minutes to make each, and were both super delicious and super cute.

An ode to the RER B

 This blue life-line runs
     through the middle of Paris
 and smells like French farts.




Yeah, I'm not very classy. But if you have ever ridden the RER B, you would not be able to deny it.

Information on front page of RATP website warning fellow public-transit-goers
of the impending strike.

Tomorrow, in true French fashion, they are holding a strike. Luckily, they are warning us beforehand that the trains will be late(r than usual) and far more crowded. This happens quite a bit, so it's always good to check the RATP website before you need to ride the trains (especially to the airports). There will be a pop up window with strike information at least 24 hours in advanced.