Blame it on Paree

It was all about the girls tonight.

Stop one was Magpie to meet a friend who's a week away from leaving for Paris.

As she joked, it's the trip of a lifetime in many ways, deserving toasting with Tiamo Prosecco, which tasted of apricots and bubbles.

We were the first customers in and the bartender jumped into our chat about Paris, bringing in experiences from his own trip there.

It was a good reminder that even when barkeeps act like they're not listening, they're listening.

Our amuse bouche of a blackberry with bourbon gelee and a mint sauce sparked a discussion about bourbon, aided by the chef's hat which touted Smooth Ambler.

As a bourbon lover, my friend asked to the sniff the bottle of West Virginia-made spirits afterwards, promising herself that she'd bring bourbon to Paris.

But for tonight, we moved on to Le Saint Andre Rose, a lovely salmon-colored rose that tasted like wild strawberries.

Since it was happy hour, we jumped into some happy hour food, namely duck liver mousse with scallion pesto (liver and onions, yum!), seafood sausage of scallop, bacon and snapper with chevre and pear butter and a dish of Virginia crab with pickled onion, jalapeno/corn relish and country ham vinaigrette (lumps of crabs the size of my thumb, yes, please).

At one point, my friend looked at me and wryly observed, "He thinks we're having Costco potpies for dinner tonight!" about her husband.

My guess is, he might still be, but she sure wasn't after that spread.

I heard about all the places in Paris she wants to visit - the Musee d'Orsay, Cherbourg, Luxembourg Gardens- and how she's been given explicit instructions about how to dress.

Seems that her worldly sister is concerned that she won't fit in and has directed her to wear nothing but black (and positively no shorts ever).

She's now been warned of this not once, but twice.

Knowing what a troublemaker she likes to be, I can just about bet the farm that she'll wear/say/do something that annoys the friend and sister who've been trying to ensure she falls into line.

I can't wait to hear the stories when she gets back.

But she's also a talented artist, so I inquired if she planned to bring a sketchbook with her to capture whatever she might.

Fortunately, they haven't told her she can't sketch in Paris.

By the time we finished talking about all the important stuff, it was still early evening and she was off to her husband while I made my way to another girlfriend's house.

She was ready for me with Le Ferme Julien Rose and a host of questions not answered on my blog.

I heard how she was all but out of white wine due to a neighbor who persists in dropping by to "borrow" a bottle of wine on an alarmingly regular basis.

Me, I'd laugh at a neighbor who was so bold, but she's far kinder.

But all great conversations must come to an end when it's culture time, so eventually, we got in the car to go to Criterion to see "Frances Ha."

I'd read more than a few good reviews of director Noah Baumbach's black and white take on a 27-year old dancer's attempts at creating an adult life.

It centered on those post-college years when people are desperately trying to become adults while still making irresponsible decisions and having no clue about how to move forward.

Those bygone days of living with roommates, never making enough money and wondering if you'll ever meet The One.

On the plus side, by the time you reach a certain age (say, mine) you no longer have to live with roommates.

Enough said.

As the film unfolds, we see each of Frances' ever-changing addresses, including one in NYC on Catherine Street, significant only because I live a block from Catherine Street.

Interestingly enough, Frances takes a weekend trip to Paris (probably some of the film's saddest, if most picaresque, scenes), making me even more envious of my friend's upcoming trip.

Fortunately, she's not going alone.

But the best part of having a favorite girlfriend going off to Paris?

I know she'll come back with tales of art and gardens, meals and wine, adventures and people and hopefully of behaving exactly how she wants to behave.

And if she makes some irresponsible decisions, all I can say is, I can't wait to hear the stories.