Love him or hate him, Serge Gainsbourg is the definitive Dirty Old Man of French culture. The chain-smoking singer made 17 studio albums and over the course of his career he also painted, made films, and tried his hand at literary expression. March 2nd marked the anniversary of Serge Gainsbourg’s death 26 years ago. Is this provocative and irreverent singer still relevant today ?

It’s no secret that I love Belleville. I fully support the “Belleville Hills” t-shirts I’ve seen around the neighborhood the past couple of years, proclaiming pride in this area of eastern Paris. The colors, the people, the odors ! The ongoing construction projects and the racaille, or riff-raff ! They all make up this vibrant, working-class area I call (almost) home.

On a blustery day last February, I navigated my bicycle down to the Seine River. Along the quai d’Austerlitz floats a slightly dilapidated barge, where I had an appointment with two architects, Michel and Julien. They’re in charge of restoring Paris’ first-ever floating monument, a river boat called the Louise-Catherine. The goal of our rendez-vous ? A private tour of this unsinkable memorial to fascinating times past.

You, like people all over the world, might be popping a bottle of bubbly tonight. My man David-Nicolas will probably pick up a bottle or two of his favorite brand of Champagne, Ruinart. But did you know that not all sparkling wines, or even Champagnes, are created equal ?

Buckwheat crêpes, or galettes in French, are a staple of any Parisian household with kids, big or small. They make a great lunch, filled with ham and cheese, or quickly-sautéed mushrooms, or with any other filling you might have on hand. But for a more soigné meal, did you know they can also be filled with a soufflé ?

Does art imitate life, or does life imitate art ? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. One thing is sure : art reproduces what is in the depths of the subconscious mind, and that’s nowhere more evident than in the work of American artist Henry Darger. But when the line dividing art and life is indistinguishable, what you get looks a lot like the life of French-American creator Elizabeth R.

Many books have been written about how to dress like a Parisian. When I first moved to Paris, I thought I would just naturally soak up the local style, through fashion osmosis. In my mind, the process also included a fairy-like personal shopper, who would actually go into stores for me and do the dirty work. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only person who doesn’t like shopping, right ?

Chicken and sausage gumbo

Have you ever been insatiably curious about someone you see regularly in your neighborhood ? It happened to me last summer. I kept seeing a tall, beautiful, and muscular woman, who ran. And ran. (Apparently, she loved running.) She had a large unmistakable tattoo covering her thigh : the colored interlocking rings of the Olympic Games. What was this champion runner doing right in my neighborhood ?

Who in the world has ever heard the phrase “Put on your blues” ? Every manual worker and artist in France has, and they’ve probably used the expression themselves : Mets ton bleu ! It’s an expression that dates from the end of the 19th century, when the "blues" were born. Miners and other manual laborers in the Unites States had blue jeans, but in France, the bleu de travail is a whole other story.

Have you ever been to the Hôtel Costes on the rue Saint Honoré ? If so, you would have stepped into the luxurious, plush world of sexy darkness which reigns throughout the hotel’s bar and lounge. Bohemian trappings like the baroque furniture and the rooms containing disproportionate amounts of red velvet have earned the Hôtel Costes a special place in the hearts of Paris’ most ardent aesthetes.

There was never a more unlikely source for a recipe than my friend Paul. The first time I met this guy, I wanted to drop-kick him into the Seine. The suede elbow patches on his tweed jacket, his moleskin pants, and the tiny round glasses slipping down his nose all belied the cracked and unhinged apartment door where he greeted me : Paul had just been paid a visit by the huissier, or repo-man.