Bastille Days

Vive la France!

J'adore Bastille Days: the miniature Tour Eiffel, the cost of admission (free!), and its street fair vibe. It's small enough to manage in one evening, but there's no shortage of sights, sounds, and tasty treats. C'est magnifique! 

Once we conquered the beast that is parking at Bastille Days (there are $10 lots — you just have to look hard enough), all we could think about was food. (Though really that's all I ever think about.) You name it, they have it at Bastille Days: Saz's famous sour cream & chive fries, mousse-stuffed crêpes topped with a cloud of whipped cream, and things that are actually French like a "brie & tomate" baguette sandwich. Not that the crêpes aren't French — I just wish the Bastille Days crêpe people would practice "less is more." Keep your mousse and your cream; just give me a nutella-filled triangle.

We ate our diverse dinners at the base of the Eiffel Tower with people stopping Erin to ask where she got the fries. Funny: No one inquired after my baguette sandwich. I then asked Renee to take a picture of Erin & I with the tower in the background. We thought she was going to take it at one of those really unflattering low angles that gives you a triple chin. We compensated with some ridiculous posing (Erin called this her French Face), but the angle wasn't at all what we'd predicted; I suppose that makes the posing all the more ridiculous.

After the photo shoot, we went in search of beignets and Hinterland Cherry Wheat beer. On our way, we were stopped by a Mardi Gras parade complete with a brass band, some giant Joker-looking puppet, a banner of the Mona Lisa, and Can Can dancers tossing strands of beads. That the parade lasted all of five minutes only added to its charm. (Wauwatosa's Fourth of July parade should take notes!)

Having survived the classic beignet pitfalls (burnt tongues and powdered sugar inhalation), we made our way to a small square stage in the center of Cathedral Square where we were drawn in by a troupe of belly dancers. Not only were the costumes rich, jewel-toned layers of eye candy, but the dancers themselves were enough to make me want to shout "Get it girl!" Seriously, how do they move like that? And many of the dancers defied mainstream definitions of belly-baring beauty, celebrating their curves with total confidence, artistry, and poise.

We rounded out the night by stopping at some of the local artists' tents, ogling turquoise jewelry and adorable Wisconsin t-shirts. We rocked out to the Soul Rebels Brass Band (or as Renee called them: "The Boys 2 Men of brass"), but sleepiness eventually caught up with us. Bonne nuit, Bastille Days. À l'année prochaine!