My goal this week was to venture into one of the greatest, most prestigious and most glamorous hotels in the world, George V. Four Seasons, Paris. The George V opened in 1928 in honor of George V of England, grandfather of Queen Elizabeth. During the liberation of Paris, it housed Dwight D. Eisenhower. Today it is owned by the billionaire Saudi Prince, Al-Waleed. Last night it where I got a drink.
George V in the 8th arrondissement and a few blocks off the Champs-Elysées
Since the Ritz has begun its renovation project and shut the doors to my favorite Parisian bar, Hemingway Bar, I have been looking for a replacement hangout for times when I want to spend on a cocktail what I would on a 3 course lunch at one of my favorite bistros. I had seen pictures of George V’s Le Bar online and thought it might fit the bill….cozy, intimate and beautifully appointed. I put on all the pearls, diamonds and anything else shiny I could find and headed out the door to discover this glitzy Parisian landmark.
After a quick shoe change (I walked the 40 minutes from my house), I weaved between the parked Bentley, Ferrari and Porsche into the magnificent entrance. Once inside a huge smile lit up my face. This place was amazing! White marble floors, flowers, Murano chandeliers, flowers, mirrors, flowers, large tapestries, flowers, gorgeous guests and, yes, more flowers.
The Reception at George V.
An elegant, tall and bald Four Seasons employee escorted me to the bar. He made sure I was comfortable in my bar stool (second from the end) before offering to take my coat and give me a magazine. I said no to both. The coat I wanted to keep with me and the magazine would only be a distraction. Little did he know that tonight my entertainment would be his fellow coworkers and my fellow patrons.
More of the flowers!
Just like at Hemingway Bar, the walls were wood paneled and the furnishings were dark colored and plush. Behind the bar where countless bottles of liqueurs on mirrored shelves…the triumphant focal point an enormous bottle of Louis VIII cognac. Man, if a shot of that in Vegas goes for $2000 (which once I was lucky enough to be invited to partake in), how much does the Prince charge here!
The bartender handed me the cocktail menu. Hmmm…glass of champagne, si vous plait! He presented a bottle of Veuve Cliquot and offered to have me taste it first. I smiled and said, “Ah, the champagne I served at my wedding…no need for me to taste, go ahead and pour.” Great, now every eligible Saudi Prince bachelor in earshot thinks I am married. *sigh*
This blurry shots sort of captures the dreaminess of the hotel.
I cozied into my chair, took a sip of my champagne and looked around. Well dressed crowd. International. Older…and, wait, look at those two platters of mini-Madeleines that just paraded by (I am always easily detracted by dessert items)! How do I get my hands on those sweet little buggers? Must. Find. Solution. The sad part was that I didn’t even yet know the name of the bartender to ask. And his black name tag on his black uniform didn’t help…despite my squinting. He did mix beautiful cocktails though. I was particularly interested in the one he garnished with marinated cherries and a sprig of rosemary.
A tan, grey-haired gentleman in a sports jacket sat on the opposite end of the bar from me. Clearly the master of some universe and regular customer as he seemed to be doted on quite keenly by all the staff. He would look down at me from time to time, but I wasn’t in the mood for making eye-contact or small talk (which may make one wonder why I went to a bar alone :)…don’t look for logic). ALTHOUGH I should have since he was the one getting all the attention…and knew the name of the bartender.
Finally though I got a little staff affection of my own. The bartender nodded at me! Progress! And then more progress! After a simple inquiry about the petits cookies, he handed me a plate with 2 of the coveted madeleines and 2 rectangles of chocolate. The small pastries literally melted on my tongue. Wow, their chef de patisserie has this recipe nailed! The mini-mads accompany all orders of coffee or tea. I almost ordered 30 espressos on the spot.
About 15 minutes later I learned that my guardian angel comes as an adorable Four Seasons server with a pretty smile when she slid another plate of maddies and chocolates in front of me. Delightful! I started to feel bad for having just sent a text to a friend saying, “C’est ennuyeux ici!” (It is boring here!)
La Galerie right outside of Le Bar and where a sax and piano duo played….it is filled with 19th century paintings and Flemish tapestries. Oh la la!
After finishing the champagne, cookies, chocolates and macadamia nuts (that were the size of chipmunk heads…no joke!), I decided to call it a night. I had appreciated my quiet time in this glamorous establishment, but couldn’t quite connect to its spirit. Perhaps it was because it was Thursday night. Perhaps I was hoping too hard that somehow this place would have the same magic as Hemingway Bar. Although, I think any place were one is mixed custom cocktails to match one’s mood by the world’s best bartender, treated to a private piano concert in the Ritz lobby and then taken home by a new friend’s personal driver (a story for another time!) is hard to replicate.
The Terrace at George V…a veritable fairyland with waterfall and suspended orchids.
I may not go back to Le Bar…but I think I might find an excuse to have lunch out here.
Walking home!
This too will be hard to replicate…and a reason why I am sure once it comes time for me to leave this town, my only thought will be how to get back.
As Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. wrote in Homesick in Heaven, “Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.”
I think by the time I leave this planet, I will have many places I consider home. However, my connection with Paris is like no other I have experienced…and I cherish it. So on this one year anniversary of my stay here in this beautiful city, I say CHEERS to Paris, CHEERS to my evening at George V (regardless of the fact that it was uneventful 🙁 ) and CHEERS to all my “homes” across the globe and the people who make them feel that way to me.
Bisous!
