Home Pickling

 
Weck jars

On the list of vegetables I hate in the US but love here, cucumbers rank somewhere in the top ten. From Dutch yellow to crystal apple and Jaune Dickfleischige, it's nearly impossible for me to make pickles- in fact, chopping cucumbers is sometimes expecting too much- because I eat more juicy slices than I set aside. Truncated with herbs, vinegar, and finishing salt, homemade pickles make up for the watered-down, disappointingly slim variety available in bulk. They are cool and crisp, spicy with just the right amount of acidity, fresh and package-free. I might add that the art of home pickling, once mastered, is an inexhaustible source of enjoyment. In Paris, you can buy produce that was picked that morning, cut it up, stick it in a jar with some vinegar, and have a tasty aperitif ready in a matter of hours.

Simply put 10 sliced cucumbers in 1/2 cup vinegar with three teaspoons salt, plus herbs and peppercorns to taste. Seal in a jar, shake, and place in the refrigerator. The pickles take five minutes prep time and an hour or two in the fridge, perfect when I'm worn out after a long day of pretending to speak French. I couldn't find dill (aneth) at the market, so I used a few sprigs of fennel instead; most recipes call for 5% strength vinegar, but French stores appear to carry only 8% acidity, resulting in crunchier pickles. Instead of messing with flavor profiles and aromatic spice blends, add a few peppercorns, pimentos, and sweet mini poivrons with Persian blue salt. Sometimes I use daikon radish, pears, kohlrabi, or turnips instead- try pickling watermelon and citrus rinds.

Delicious on good bread with goat cheese, refrigerator pickles require minimal effort and are literally impossible to mess up. Unless you're me- when I first made these, I covered the cucumbers in white vinegar. They were awful. To remedy an overly vinegary pickle, pour out 1/3 liquid and replace it with sugar (people say table sugar, but muscovado or turbinado works well). Mellow a few days and try again. Perfect!

I should have known better than to ignore the recipe- my sauerkraut / kimchi attempts fall squarely under the category "cautionary tales." Now these pickles turn out tasty and perfectly textured, every time. It's a gut-friendly way to dress dishes while preserving summer vegetables well into cooler months.

10 Piece Wardrobe

This post has been updated. Click here for my current wardrobe.

Moving to Paris and walking everywhere changed the way clothes fit, leaving me with little to wear. Now my wardrobe consists of ten core pieces, plus a few seasonal items. A little background: I need day-to-night pieces that carry me through the seasons, and clothes that withstand a sweaty commute. I bought almost everything secondhand, when I was supporting myself through college- I grew out of fast fashion years ago, and purchasing runway pieces used for less than the price of a bowl of risotto provides a satisfying rush.

10 key pieces:  1. Pink dress 2. White t-shirt 3. Sweater 4. Green trench coat 5. Wool skirt 6. Navy dress 7. J Brand jeans 8. Pumps 9. Nike Dunk sneakers (they look nice with all my dresses, in a Kelly Rowland sort of way) 10. Longchamp bag

Seasonal / essential items: 1. Shirtdress (spring/summer only) 2. Petit Bateau dress (spring / summer only) UPDATE: I wore this to the market and met a four year old wearing the same dress- donated. 3. Vera Wang dress (my wedding dress, fall/winter and special occasions only) 4. Glasses and sunglasses- I need them to see, not complete an outfit 5. Wedding ring and watch, which I never remove

In other words, two tops, two bottoms, two dresses, two pairs of shoes, a coat, one bag and a couple seasonal items are all I need for a fully functional wardrobe year-round. Don't go out and buy new stuff! Almost everybody already has things they love in their closet. Why not try wearing those for awhile and see how you like it? Twice a year, at the end of summer and the beginning of spring, I inventory clothes. Ruined items, anything that doesn't fit, and anything I don't wear gets tailored, donated, refashioned, or sold. Each season, I'll choose two or three secondhand items from my closet to supplement this ten-piece wardrobe- a casual dress or extra t-shirt in summer, and a heavier coat, gloves, and boots in winter. I don't keep anything in storage, and if I lived somewhere else, I'd probably incorporate more color. In Paris, bright clothing feels conspicuous- as it is, I own only one black item.

Wardrobe maintenance

If you're worried about the effect frequent wear has on an item's condition, each article of clothing has a set life cycle, and constant use does not alter that. Any materials scientist will tell you clothes and shoes need only 24 hours rest to maximize their life span. I may mend or darn pieces more than other people, but that's because I buy secondhand and live in a city without a car. My friends still ask me, "Is that dress/shirt/pair of jeans new?" when I've worn the same things every day for years.

Dresses make it easier for me to get ready in the morning. Instead of dealing with a bunch of suit jackets, tops, and bottoms, dresses look professional and pulled-together for work, dates, parties, or walking around Paris. I wash clothes every two weeks or so, including dry-clean only items, my purse, and coats, at home. Turn garments inside out and machine-wash or soak in a bathtub with two inches water and savon de marseille. Don't use your dryer- turn right side out, steam, and hang to dry. This works on pure silk, wool-silk, virgin wool, cashmere, cotton, and linen fabrics. Dry-cleaning is wasteful and expensive, and I haven't found a Paris cleaner that didn't ruin everything anyway (shame on you, Record Pressing on Avenue de La Motte-Picquet, for scorching my favorite Dior dress).

I use a safety razor to defuzz wool and cashmere, but Truffaut, Nose, and Buly 1803 sell unpackaged brushes, sweater combs, and stones for zero-waste lint removal. A vodka spritz and vigorous combing freshens clothing between washes. If something gets dirty and I need it the next day, I scrub out the armpits and any stains with soap, rinse, and hang to dry. It takes minutes.

A coordinated closet

I like the idea of a uniform- a white t-shirt with a skirt and heels or sneakers; tucked into jeans, like Cindy Crawford in the 90s; or untucked, like Jane Birkin. Sandals aren't good for city streets, with broken glass, lit cigarettes, and people stepping on your toes, but I wore Ancient Greek Sandals from eBay the past five summers. Two swimsuits, one pair pajamas, and a dozen undergarments round out my closet. To extend their life span, I never wear shoes without stocking or socks. Six pairs of socks (ankle and winter-only wool socks) and two stockings (update- I wore only one pair all winter) are enough.

My goal was to own a single, perfect outfit for every occasion in life. I wear the same clothes over and over again, but nobody noticed until I wrote this post. Once a week, women stop to tell me my coat is "Jolie," Americans on the Métro compliment my shoes, or friends say, "I love your dress- it suits you." To curate a colorful, minimal wardrobe for round-the-world travel, click here. To read more about my wardrobe and beauty routine, click here, here, and here. 

Zero Waste Beauty and Grooming

This post has been updated. Click here to read the updated post.

I adopted a zero-waste (almost) beauty routine without knowing it- puberty struck, zits erupted, and I didn't have the cash to pay for products Jessica Biel endorsed on television. I started conditioning my hair with homemade apple cider vinegar and scrubbing my face with baking soda; I wasn't allowed to wear makeup, so I rubbed beets (from the garden) on my cheeks and lips. We don't have a medicine cabinet in Paris, which is one motivation for avoiding unsightly plastic. With everything out in the open, I'm more conscious of the products we choose.

Makeup

RMS Beauty products, available at Oh My Cream, are plastic-free in metal and glass, except the aluminum mascara tube with plastic wand. I won't buy them again- they break me out. For now, I'm sticking to plain cornstarch as foundation / facial powder, DIY beet blush and lip color, and bulk kohl (buy it at Marché Raspail to avoid lead). Kjar Weis offers organic, refillable makeup in metal, Ellis Faas sells refills, and Fat and the Moon uses glass and metal packaging for their vegan products. Click here for my diy activated charcoal and mascara recipe. I make my own perfume, but if you'd rather not DIY, Le Labo refills their products.

Dental hygiene

Here's our homemade mouthwash recipe: Boil 500 mL water and cool to room temperature. Add 30 drops peppermint essential oil and 15 drops clove essential oil. Shake well. Store in pharmaceutical grade amber glass (mine's an old Aesop bottle). Swish using small glass beakers.

Straight baking soda replaces acetaldehyde-based flavored toothpastes- some say it's overly abrasive, but my dentist recommends it. My grandma brushed with baking soda daily for decades, and she has strong enamel and gums. I use a bamboo toothbrush and siwak (miswak) instead of floss.

Shaving and haircare

My hairbrush is beeswax-finished wood with a natural rubber base. For hands, hair, body, and face, I buy unpackaged soap at the market or Comptoir de Savonniers- usually Aleppo or savon de Marseille. Perfect for safety razor shaving, handmade soaps lather on their own, no need for a badger brush. Plastic razors last years if you dry the blade between uses, but with a safety razor I shave half as much and experience less irritation and nicks. 

I use lemon or lime juice to tame flyaways, cornstarch as dry shampoo, and bulk olive oil for makeup remover, moisturizer, and lip balm. Plain baking soda isn't irritating when patted- not rubbed- onto a clean, dry underarm. Baking soda is a mild abrasive that removes impurities from hair, and vinegar is a chelating agent. For best results, mix one part baking soda with three parts water and leave in a few minutes before rinsing, no more than once a week. Condition with white vinegar (it smells less than apple cider vinegar) to treat mineral residue and damage from hard Paris water. For cities with softer water, my mom swears by a shampoo bar to keep her long, thick hair shiny and clean.

Zero Waste Feminine Hygiene

I bought the Mooncup, packaged in cloth and cardboard, at Naturalia. It shortens my periods and reduces cramps. The very first cycle I biked 35 km, swam 50 laps, and slept leak-free- I was afraid to make the switch, but I've used it two years now without a problem. Just empty the cup before and after work and during lunch. It's cleaner than a tampon or pad, with no unpleasant odors. Click here for detailed menstrual cup options, including material, dimensions, and capacity. Click here for folding techniques (don't be intimidated, I fold mine in half and it's comfortable / leak-proof). Not everybody is a fan of silicone. There are rubber menstrual cups; others prefer vegetable sponges, sea sponges, or reusable cloth options.

Waste

1. Paper bag from baking soda: recycling or compost (depending on how much carbon is in the compost), once every three months.
2. Paper box from Mooncup: Kept for storage
3. White vinegar bottle: Recycling- one plastic bottle every two months
4. RMS Beauty packaging: Fully recyclable
5. Box from razor and razor blades (paper wrapper): Kept the box for storage, composted the paper. When my first razor blade is finished, I'll take it to CVAE Invalides, which accepts them for re-use
6. Toothbrush packaging: Compostable cardboard and cellophane
7. Soap and water replace toilet paper, unless I'm in a bathroom outside the home. Toilet paper comes in plastic packaging only here (not currently recycled). I buy it for my husband and guests. One six pack lasts approximately 2-3 months. 
8. Lemon or lime peels: Composted, grated for scrubs or candied if removed before use.

P.S. Using cocoa powder as blush/bronzer didn't work for me, and gave me a caffeine rush.

Storing Food Without the Refrigerator

Last Monday I unplugged the appliances, turned off the hot water heater, and tried no impact living for a week. This year, I biked or walked almost everywhere, took the stairs instead of the elevator, ate seasonally and locally, and gave up toilet paper, so no electricity seemed like a natural progression. Mostly, I think EDF is ripping us off and wanted to see if they adjusted our bill to reflect a week of non-consumption (they are, and they didn't). I found Korean designer Jihyun Ryou's system (above) pretty but excessive. You don't need sand or fancy shelving to safely store fresh foods- all you need are a few glass containers, some water, and a few staple ingredients you probably already have on hand.

 
Secondhand Weck jars, from Leboncoin

To prepare for a week without refrigeration, I did some field research, asking butchers, fromagers, and enleveurs how to store meat, dairy, and eggs sans electricity.  Everybody thought this was the weirdest question. "We keep those things on the counter anyway," explained the man at the crèmerie. The guy at Griffon was really mean and dismissive. "Americans always put stuff in the fridge that doesn't belong," he muttered. Unwashed eggs and mayonnaise keep indefinitely if you turn the eggs to prevent the yolk from sticking. Eggs have a natural protective coating, so buying the organic, unwashed kind is imperative, ensuring freshness and preventing bacterial spoilage. Make sure no bacteria gets in the mayonnaise jar, using a clean spoon each time.

Soft cheeses, packed properly in cloth and glass, keep several days out of the refrigerator- 3 out of 4 fromagers said young cheeses, like Brie and Camembert, can be left unrefrigerated for weeks! The key is plastic-free storage, since plastic wrap prevents breathing. Preserving the rind is crucial. Cut, semi-soft cheeses with rinds keep one week up to one month, depending on the cheese. Firm cheeses can be consumed safely up to one month or longer, but the flavor changes, becoming more pronounced with age. I kept feta suspended in brine in an airtight glass jar, and after one week, it tasted just as fresh as when I bought it. Same goes for shredded cheddar, stored in glass with plenty of salt.

 

I bought small cuts of meat and kept them in glass containers to prevent spoilage (similarly, small containers of jelly, jam, nut butter and maple syrup discourage mold). The medieval French preserved meat by roasting it, then generously applying natural honey, fat or jelly. Today, butchers sell fat for confits, a delicious food preservation method in which meat is slow-cooked, salted and sealed (my friend Francoise puts orange juice in hers). Meat prepared this way can be consumed safely for months. I drank nut milk instead of cow's milk, and I guess I could have made ghee, but butter keeps 2-4 weeks anyway. So do sour cream, fermented milk, and yogurt, stored in glass in a cool, dark place.

  

Olive oil, tamarind or citrus juice, and vinegar are best friends of the refrigerator-free. You can store soft cheeses in them or preserve fish- the leftovers make good salad dressing later. My mom sometimes made gravlax with salmon. Balsamic vinegar kept tomato sauce and roasted strawberries fresh, white vinegar prevented moldy bread, lime juice made guacamole last, and tamarind sauce preserved meats, fish, and vegetables. Strong spices, curries, and stews keep well- a coriander-coated fish my friend made stayed tasty- as do beans soaked in salted water, vinegar, and lemon juice. Bringing leftovers to boil every day or so will keep them fresh, even in humid climates.

I didn't worry about fruits and vegetables. Tomatoes do best outside the refrigerator, and carrots and asparagus just need to be kept upright in a few inches water. If cruciferous vegetables, like broccoli, wilt, soak the bottoms in water to restore. Remove potato eyes as they appear, and store with apples to preserve freshness. My simple system varied from day to day, but generally looked like this:

 

An unplugged, empty refrigerator smells stale after a few days. To prevent (or reverse) this, wipe the fridge down with white vinegar and keep an open jar of baking soda in there. A mixture of two parts water to one part baking soda applied with a clean cloth is effective, but you'll need white vinegar to wipe off any residue. Not that we should all go back to the pre-refrigeration days of botulism and food-borne illness, but this experiment tested my creativity and got me out of a cooking rut. I researched food storage methods from other cultures and nerdily tested bacterial levels to my heart's content (the difference between refrigerated and non-refrigerated food was nominal). That is paleo, vegan, gluten-free chocolate pudding at the bottom :) Made of homemade coconut milk and dark chocolate with sea salt, it didn't keep very long, because I ate it so fast! 

The Perfect Bed

When I lived in the US, I used to see Philippe Cousteau, Jr. at sustainability events every now and then. He always wore the same belt on the same pair of jeans, and he kept no cotton sheets or towels at his house. I thought this was a French thing, but en fait, there are 101 gallons of water hidden in every pound of cotton. It's toxin-laden and potentially mutagenic and considered one of the world's dirtiest crops. The rest of our beds might be even worse- endocrine disruptors, carcinogens, formaldehyde and respiratory irritants fill every polyurethane, memory foam, or latex mattress.

This isn't to say that as your body flushes out the day's toxins during a night's sleep, your bedding replaces them with fresh phthalates and VOCs- no one knows what effect these chemical levels have in the long run. Still, it's a good excuse to promote beautiful, handmade natural wool and linen bedding. French people get a bad rap when it comes to cleanliness, but the wool duvets and mattresses they make are inherently antimicrobial. Remember that scary Northern Exposure episode where Maggie was obsessed with dust mites? In France, generations of artisans divert hundreds of thousands of tons of steel from landfills with wool mattresses that regulate temperature and require little maintenance. Just wash, re-fluff, and service at a literie every ten years. In Paris, I like Special Literie, 19 bis Rue de Cotte 75012. It's right next door to Puerto Cacao, so you can eat bulk chocolate while you wait.

 

Habitat Ikebana bed from LeBonCoin, similar here. Linen sheet set, secondhand

Linen sheets are perfect for Paris apartments lacking air conditioning and adequate heaters- clean and comfortable on the sweatiest summer nights and cozy in the dead of winter, when La France Mutualiste gets stingy with the radiator. Harvested from cellulose flax fibers, linen production uses minimal water and energy inputs. Since French washer/dryers don't really dry anything, the moisture-wicking properties of linen help on cold, humid laundry days. The more I wash and use them, the better they look- best of all, Kar and Toffel love their silky washed texture!

To learn more about artisanal wool mattress production, click here.

Zero-Waste Shopping Kit

Wicker cart, similar here

Remember in high school when everyone had to have Ugg boots and Coach bags- Chevignon backpacks and Bensimon shoes, for the French- and if you didn't have those things, no one would talk to you and you couldn't sit at the cool table during lunch? Wicker shopping trolleys are the Coach bag of the 7ème (except only Americans wear Coach here because Parisians think they're fake Chanel). Any dame âgée worth her weight in fromage blanc uses one, for rolling milk and the day's baguette down Rue de Sèvres, up Rue de Babylone, past Le Bon Marché to Nespresso, Dior heels click-clacking on the pavement. Week after week, I sweatily hauled reusable totes everywhere, looking like a hunchback hobo with a bindle, while those women flitted about, all perfect hair and perfectly creased skin and fresh lipstick and husky voices, chariots à courses en osier zipping behind them. Organic hemp rarely plays when it comes to Parisian social mores, and I wanted those chic old ladies to like me.

There's something about those wicker chariots, some mysterious sheen that comes from marrying bygone beauty with utility, the promise of durability, and cultural traction. An exhaustive search led to Droguerie Thanner on Rue de Buci, which stocks one wicker shopping cart with ugly white plastic wheels. The manufacturers' tag read 120 EUR; they crossed it out to write 190 EUR, and when I asked the shopgirl the price, she told me deux cent. I eventually started stopping every person I saw on the street, asking where they got their enviable trolleys. "Champs-Élysées, thirty years ago, but the shop is gone." "It was my grandmother's." "My husband bought this for me, I don't know where." "Can't you ask him?" I cried. "Il est mort," she replied, waving her hand.

My friend Françoise- the epitome of the elegant, cultured Frenchwoman- came to the rescue. She bought her handsome chariot 25 years ago at Cherche-Midi Couleurs, a venerable vannerie slash droguerie just a block from La Grande Epicerie. A quick phone call confirmed they had the same model in stock. I walked over hurriedly, forgetting this was France, the country where verifier disponibilité sur magasin says yes, Sephora Beaugrenelle does have plastic-free recourbe-cils in stock, when actually they have none; the country in which the man on the line from Le retour à la terre says yes, we have Mooncups in every size but when you walk all the way there, the same guy says, oh, I was sure we had them so when I put you on hold for half an hour to check, I was actually outside having a smoke and no, we won't be getting any for months; the country where all the schedules say the Gare du Nord-Creil train arrives at 8:45 so you rush over twenty minutes early to make it but there are no trains until two hours later, and it isn't a bank holiday and there's no good reason for the train not to arrive, yet it never does, and everybody expects you to accept it anyway. Suffice to say, Cherche-Midi Couleurs didn't have my shopping trolley, either.

I almost gave in and bought a Tyvek Perigot, thinking my search for a plastic-free, biodegradable shopping cart was fruitless. Suddenly, all my Leboncoin wishes materialized in the form of a dozen Weck jars and a vintage wicker trolley in perfect condition, avec lifetime guarantee. I kept the reusable totes, but for hauling heavy groceries, bulk goods, and glass containers, this thing is a game-changer (the cats love it, too). I can't believe I thought I could do without this wheeled city-dwelling miracle! It makes me feel like Jenni Kayne, pretending to be domestic for a Martha Stewart editorial.

I wash and re-used Aesop bags (purchased last year) for shopping; the largest bag is for bread and the three smaller ones for produce. The little wooden basket is from some cherries my grandmother bought- I put a clean washcloth at the bottom and use it for berries, eggs, or to carry old limonade bottles refilled at En Vrac. In the trolley, glass jars stay put, but I saved a few cardboard rectangles and folded them in thirds to divide and protect breakable items when shopping (carrying cloth towels helps too). The organic "filet" bags No Impact Man lauds are actually pretty perfect for produce- you can crochet them yourself or buy them anywhere in France for less than 2 EUR.

Below are tare weights for reference. Weck jars are sturdy- I've dropped them a bunch of times with no cracks or chips to speak of. Unlike parfait jars, they're also stackable and oven, dishwasher, and microwave safe. I don't own a microwave or dishwasher, but I appreciate having the option. I use a 1L jar for Famille Mary honey (not pictured); they weigh it each time, so I don't have the tare.

Mold Jars 80ml: 140g 160ml: 170g 165ml :230g 1/4 L: 420g 1/2 L: 490g 3/4 L: 590g

Cylindrical 340ml: 208g 600ml: 340g 1062ml: 700g

Limonade bottles  0.75L: 385g

Tip: Save an egg carton for safe transport of fresh, unwashed eggs. This post contains Shopstyle affiliate links. If you click on them, I make a commission. Thanks for your continuing support!

Chambelland Boulangerie

 

 

A lot of gluten-free food in Paris makes me sick. I've had chocolate brownies that taste like soap and madeleines that taste like papier-mâché, pasty, soggy, and disgusting. Chambelland Boulangerie is a delightful exception, the lone Ununonctium rising from a thousand unsuccessful synthesis attempts (e.g., Helmut Newcake). Nestled in Village Popincourt amidst bric-a-brac shops, and nearly across the street from A Boire et A Manger, Chambelland is bright and clean, a lovely spot for brunch, tea, or something more substantial. Everyone dresses colorfully here, which really inspired me to up my  wardrobe game. Sometimes I take a giant, sublime salmon-with-cream-cheese on Cedric Casanova foccacia and eat it at Square Baudincourt, where I am undefeated in mahjong. I always give credit for my victories to Chambelland sandwiches, which leave grease stains on my purse and a smile in my stomach.

Chambelland won my skeptical husband over with a single sip of incredible espresso, which, he said, was better than Coutume. All the tables and chairs in the restaurant are repurposed vintage- how zero-waste!- and discriminating foodies can't resist the lovely food and friendly service- Alain Ducasse is a fan. Visit their Facebook and Instagram for more. Read my first review of Chambelland here.

Chambelland Boulangerie

14 Rue Ternaux

75011 Paris

Aristide Cat Hotel

 

 

 

Our cats recently spent two weeks at Aristide Cat Hotel. Even though I'm married I'm still a crazy cat lady at heart and I was scared to send them there. They're my babies, and I was paranoid of them picking up some nasty disease.

We visited Aristide twice before making a reservation. The owner, Gauthier, dropped everything to show us around, though we didn't have an appointment. It's spotlessly clean and smelled like cinnamon and rainbows. Aristide (named for Gauthier's cat) carries upcycled wool cat toys with organic fill, plastic-free cat houses, and unpackaged gifts. Food available for purchase is beautifully displayed in glass jars.

Schrodinger couldn't have designed a more thoughtful system. Kar and Toffel could socialize, play, and run around via tunnel network. There are lots of things to climb on, including cute upcycled cat beds made from vintage suitcases and iMacs, and pets have 24-hour access to a playroom supervised by one or two cat-sitters. Everyone is really friendly, especially Gauthier, who is so likable, we kind of wished we lived there ourselves. Downstairs, sick cats referred by area veterinarians are rehabilitated in a safe, comforting environment.

Aristide was crowd-funded, and talking to Gauthier, it's obvious how much he fought for this project and how dedicated the team is to quality animal care. When the day finally came to drop off Kar and Toffel, a cat-sitter accompanied us to their room, where Gauthier greeted our little guys (he speaks perfect English, the only language they respond to). Staff make it a point to know all of the cats' names, sending us daily progress reports and photos. One day, I checked my email to find this:

 

Bonjour Stephan & Ariana,  

KAR & TOFFEL ont déjà trouvé des camarades de jeux dont CARLOS, un chat tout noir qui squatte leur chambre. Il dort même collé à KAR ! TOFFEL aime beaucoup nos gratouilles et a fait une petite sortie ce matin dans les couloirs et à même squatté une Poopoopeedoo pour piquer un petit roupillon !

Bonne fin de journée

Pauline et l’Equipe d'Aristide  

English version: Kar, our shy grey cat, made friends with a cat named Carlos, and they had little sleepovers :) Meanwhile, our black cat, Toffel, ran through the halls and slept in his litter box. We later learned that he visited every room in the cat hotel, socializing with other guests!

When I picked up Kar and Toffel, the other cats came by for nuzzles and one jumped in the carrier with them. The whole experience was incredibly cute and beneficial. For the first time, I had peace of mind on holiday because I knew they were having as much fun as we were. Thanks to the care and attention of the staff and socialization with other cats, Toffel, our tardigrade-shaped angora, sleeps through the night better and Kar, who has pica, is more talkative and stopped eating his fur. L'Equipe d'Aristide are the Anne Sullivans of felidae.

I'm ashamed of how wary I was, because I really could not trust these precious little fur balls with nicer people. We keep coming up with excuses to go there without our cats, just to hang out! I think they're getting sick of us. Visit Aristide's blog and Instagram for more.