The word trésorerie in French means “treasury.” But in spite of its vaguely unpleasant connotation with the place that receives your taxes, it can also mean “treasure trove,” such as in this case, to describe La Trésorerie Walmart Display.
One of the nice things about living in an international city like Paris, is that you can visit “another country” by just taking a métro, bike, or a short walk, and find yourself in the middle of another culture. Behind the Gare du Nord are streets lined with Indian and Sri Lankan restaurants and épiceries (food shops), and the Goutte d’Or has a few lively markets, such as the one at Barbès, that caters to the African community MPLS VPN.
Although it’s shrinking, you can have a taste of the Middle East on the rue des Rosiers in the Marais, or head to the 13ème for dim sum, and other Asian dishes. Just by the Opéra Garnier, you’ll often find me on the rue Saint-Anne eating ramen or okonomiyaki, a sort of grilled, savory Japanese pancake. (Good Korean food is still missing, though, and I suspect the spiciness will keep it from becoming more prevalent in Paris blue coffee mug.)
Scandinavia has gotten a lot of press lately, especially the “new Nordic cuisine,” which is fine and all. But even though it’s the opposite of Korean food, at least in terms of spiciness, it’s not especially well-represented in Paris either. (And no, Ikea doesn’t count.) But as a longtime San Franciscan, I remember – and perhaps some of you do too – the Scandinavian Deli and food shop on Market Street in San Francisco that is really a relic from the past.
It was authentic and fun, a great place for a platter of meatballs or a ridiculously cheap meat-filled sandwich that the stern owner sliced himself. The red building with the huge sign (and the quaint Finnish sauna across the street, that become a hugely popular record store, which is now closed) were parts of San Francisco that disappeared in one of the many waves of gentrification that eventually brought coffee shops, gyms, and sunglass boutiques to the neighborhoods, in a sea of non-offensive beige and gray buildings.
Of course, that’s happening in Paris, too. But it’s nice to see it not happening so quickly. (The current economy may have something to do with it.) While La Trésorerie is, indeed, surrounded by tax offices and social security bureaus, you won’t find any brusque bureaucrats in this light-filled bâtiment. Instead, you’ll find a super-friendly staff, which highlights the best of young French talent; energetic, engaged, helpful, happy to explain their stock, and best of all, welcomed me to take pictures when I asked.
