SpiceLines

On Liberte Egalite Crème Brulee, Emma, a wine-loving ex-pat living in Paris, writes about “this little French practice of taking a 15-20 minute break in the middle of the afternoon.” She’s referring to La Pause Gourmande, as described by Robert Arbor in his book, Joie de Vivre, where you sit down, take a breath, and eat and drink something delicious. A review notes that you will find “domestic happiness when you learn to enjoy the most mundane details of your everyday life. Quality of life…is only improved when your pillowcases smell like lavender and you make your own hot chocolate.”

What heaven!

Ever since we returned from Paris, I’ve been trying to take la pause, not everyday, but at least a few times a week. It’s amazing how refreshing those short breaks can be, especially when I feel overwhelmed by all my to-do's.

So here’s a simple recipe for la pause gourmande. It works for me and maybe it will for you too.

1. Carve out 30 or 40 minutes in the afternoon, right about the time that you start to feel truly crazy. Whatever you do, don’t try to cram in a session at the gym—virtuous but very un-French—or trim your toenails. The whole point is not to be task-oriented.

2. Pick a relaxing spot for la pause. Definitely not your desk and it shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get there. You might go to a coffeehouse or a café—in Paris there is actually a café called La Pause near the Bastille—or a favorite bakery. If you work at home, like me, find a spot where the afternoon sun streams in through the window.

Or go outside. Yesterday it was cool, but the autumn leaves glowed radiantly in the aftrnoon sun. As I looked out at the woods, my eye fell upon our old green café table and a slatted wooden chair, cracked but still sittable. It was under the persica parrotia, a tree that turns a deep gorgeous gold about this time of year. A perfect destination—and just 20 seconds away.

3. La pause does not involve cooking. Oh, you can take a few minutes to make a pot of chai or heat up some apple cider with cassia cinnamon and cloves. But when it comes to your snack gourmand, only eat what you have on hand. Sliced pear and a little cheese, toast with good butter and jam, a handful of plump, freshly harvested pecans and a little sea salt.

Of course, it's nice if you happened to have brought home a tiny piece of patisserie from your favorite local baker, something like Annie’s very small buttery tartlette with raspberry jam and almond paste. Not too sweet but certainly indulgent.

To go with the patisserie, I spent a few minutes brewing a pot of Darjeeling from tea that Angus's friend Poojah carried back from her latest Himalayan adventure. It was light, a little flowery but with a tannic edge that offered a gentle counterpoint to the voluptuous day.

4. In the spirit of the moment, take along a book you’ve been wanting to read or some music to listen to. "Transporting music" can be particularly fine: I like the jazzy but sinuous Pera Lounge because it takes me right to Istanbul and the day we spent wandering through Topkapi Palace.

The book should be not be too challenging. Maybe one with photos to pore over like Adriana Groisman’s Tango, or a really good trashy novel. I tried to read Andre Aciman's essay on the Place de Vosges, my favorite square in all of Paris, but instead I found myself fading in and out of a different piece on the “tyrannie du particulier…the tyranny of day-to-day life, hard-and-fast, here-and-now, nut-and-bolts facts…”

Ouch—too hard and absolutely too close for comfort. So I put the book aside and started to drift, listening to the birds twitter, the dry leaves rustling in the breeze, the squirrels caterwauling over fallen hickory nuts.

For a few minutes at least, there was nothing to do.

Where will you take la pause today?