Tripletta Gaité | 75013

1 Impasse de la Gaité, 75014 Paris | 01 43 20 96 34

What to choose, what to choose?

Are you a Big Mamma pizza fan like 80% of the French population? But…do you also despise waiting in line for two hours like 100% of the world’s population? Well fear no longer my pizza pal! I’ve found the perfect spot that doesn’t require taking a half day off work just to get in line early enough, because, *GASP,* this place actually has reservations.

I checked out Tripletta Gaite on a rainy Friday night after a pizza fanatic recommended the place. Tripletta Gaité opened its pristine doors in 2018 after it’s older brother Tripletta Bellville was a huge success. Word on the street is that the name of the restaurant is a nod to the 2003 animation film about the French mafia called “The Triplets of Bellville.” Most people keeping coming back for the trendy atmosphere, fast pies (pizza’s cook in under 1 minute!) and yummy bio ingredients.

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Eat Like a Parisian Challenge- The Struggles

The 1st month of the #eatlikeaparisian challenge is ova!! If you don’t what this riveting challenge is, I suggest you head on over to this article for all the gossip. If you do know what the challenge is, I suggest you give me a virtual clap on the back right now because im #winning. My goal for the challenge was to have more energy, feel healthier and get the skin of a prepubescence 13-year-old. After one glorious month, I’ve managed to wake up before 10 am for the first time in my life without an alarm clock, created a newfound appreciation for leafy salads, stormed the city of Paris by foot and went to work for the very first time ever without makeup on. I must say it again. #winning.

I’ve seen some really positive results out of the challenge and you can get all the behind the scenes gossip about my results here in this video with my favorite Kiwi and Parisian challenge partner in crime Rosie. I’ve  even decided to keep up the challenge for another two months to push myself even further to get healthier. But I’d be Pinocchio’s newest spawn if I told you that I managed to follow every principle of the challenge on point. I was on the Hot Mess Express more times that I can count, but I’m focused on cutting down on the repeat rides for the next two months. So, if anyone wants to hop onboard the challenge wagon, I’m going to be an absolute angel here and break down my biggest struggles and my best tips so your challenge can be smooth as silk.  If you don’t remember all the principles, check out the one pager here! And if you’re too lazy to read, you can get the dish by video below.

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Did you know these 9 differences between French and American weddings?

I’m officially turning 31 next month! Some of the things I get to look forward to in my 30’s are not just stocking up aggressively on anti-aging beauty products and ineffectively attempting to avoid the onslaught of baby product advertisements, but also participating in the top activity of my year…..wedding season bitches!

The average age of a blushing bride in the US is 28 and in France it’s 32, so I’m in the trenches when it comes to weddings right now. Lucky for me, I’m a lover of all things lurve. ♥ I get as much joy out of a sweet exchange of vows as I do from watching tiny micro-piglets chase each other on YouTube. I’m also 100% capable of crying tears of joy while watching an absolute stranger’s wedding video online, so when I know and adore the couple, my  “kim kardashian ugly cry face,” makes it’s grand debut.

In total, I’ve been to a whopping 21 weddings and I feel like that alone gives me the right to shamelessly call myself an expert on the differences between French and American weddings. But, I’ve also recently planned and participated in my own Franco-American wedding, which has to up my professional credentials a couple of points. I think we should just call it what it is and move on. Wedding expert in the house, readers!

So pin on your favorite bow tie and slide into your tallest stiletto’s. I’m going to enlighten you on some of the most striking differences between French and American weddings. Ready? Set? Allez.

Check out the corresponding video here 🙂
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Who said Frenchmen don’t get fat?

11 DAYS, 11 POUNDS

Guest writer: Robin

Hi there Americans,

Some time ago, my better half (this is just a common expression that in no way reflects the reality of the situation) asked me if I wanted to post something on her new Unintentionally Frenchified blog.

As you probably know, this delightful blog deals mainly with three topics: pizza, travels and the life of an expatriate in France.

It is essentially in this last section, that my lovely wife spends all her free time typing furiously away. Revealing intimate details of her life here in my country of birth and her country of heart (I’ve got to repeat this often to convince her). Even if I’ve always said that it would only be fair if I too completed this exercise about the US, I never actually took the plunge. If I’m going to be completely truthful, I didn’t immediately accept Kate’s invitation to guest write on her blog, despite repeated requests.

KATE EVERY TIME WE TALK ABOUT THE USA

Was it the lack of time, inspiration or maybe both, that never enabled me to overcome the anxiety of the blank sheet of paper? We’ll never know, but I recently returned from ten days in the United States for Christmas with Kate. I figured it was about time for me to turn the tables and write about what you folks mistakenly call “the best country in the world ” (no offense Kate). While the US is a country that I do quite adore, this is not, I am telling you, “the best country in the world.”  

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Christmas at home with my Frenchie

My little Cata Crew of a family (ie Robin & moi), have celebrated Christmas for the last 5 years in France. This usually shocks people and I get a pity round of “say, it ain’t so!” from everyone (including the strangely peppy customs officer). But fear not my friends, I tend to make it home every 6 months or so and a trickle of American guests shimmy across the Atlantic to bombard us with American hugs pretty regularly throughout the year.

We always end up spending Christmas in France for two reasons. The first being that flight tickets are at least 2x more expensive at Christmas than any other time during the year. It’s hard to rationalize a holiday trip in December, when I could return three times during the year for the same price as one “ho ho ho” flight at Christmas. The second reason is that I hard-core adore Robin’s family. The mythical creature that is a monster-in-law just doesn’t exist in my current reality. I genuinely like spending time with his family, which makes the pain of missing a holiday at home, easier to swallow. Especially knowing it sets me up for three ah-mazing trips full of deep-dish pizzas, milkshakes and bagels.

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Eat like A Parisian Challenge

Download the snazy one pager HERE that has all the 5 principles I’ll be following during the Eat Like a Parisian Challenge!

ME. IN MY ELEMENT

I would never consider myself a full blown foodie. While I do enjoy eating for pleasure, I’m totally at the mercy of my insatiable hunger. As soon as “Hangry Hank” starts a rumblin’, I know that feeding him just became my #1 priority. Not to mention that refined food has never been my jam. I grew up surrounded by chain diners, cornfields and homemade sloppy joes. When I had the honor of choosing where we ate for dinner on my birthday, Olive Garden was the winner…11 years in a row. Endless breadsticks was literally “my thang.” I may have lived in France for the last 9 years, but I still beg my dad to pop Pillsbury biscuits in the oven when I’m home and I hit up Panera at least twice every trip to devour a bowl of broccoli and cheese soup. I’ve even gone so far as to try and recreate that famous recipe in Paris. #stillafail

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Bijou | 75018

If crust is your jam when it comes to a good slice of pizza, then twerk your way on over to the pizzeria Bijou. Bijou means jewel in La French, and it’s the perfect name for this tiny, but shiny, pizzeria. The younger sister to the ever so popoular Popine, the Italian chef Gennaro Nasti installed his second crust crusade in the hills of Montmartre. Nasti uses fresh, bio ingredients flown in from his hometown in Italy to create his “contemporian pizzas.” His twist on the modern pizza puts the crust back into the spotlight making you wonder how you ever thought that the sauce was numero uno.

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New Year, Same Me

Happy New Year Crew! I hope you had a raging time ringing in 2019! If you follow me on Instagram, you’ll know I spent the holidays visiting family in the US until the 31st. Which means in the jetlag vs Kate battle, jetlag was coming out on top on New Year’s Eve. So, Robin and I decided to forgo a party for an “intimate” celebration in Paris. Intimate is the chosen word I like to use to feel less guilty about staying in together doing a whole lotta nothin’. We drank 5-dollar wine out Tervis cups. We shared a kebab from our favorite Algerian bakery around the corner. I got sucked into the black hole that is “recommended videos” on YouTube for 2 hours, while Robin started playing Assassins Creed: Odyssey. Safe to say the 100 hours of game time needed to finish Odyssey means that I won’t have a husband for the next 6 weeks. :0 But no matter which way you celebrated the New Year, trading saliva with random clubbers, dining with friends, or sleeping through the unwanted noise, a new year has announced itself whether or not you want it.

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4|Apartment Hunting like a Scot

After two weeks on Sanna’s couch and two weeks at my new job, I officially had my first paycheck in the bank. That, plus the pity money my parents wired was enough for me to start searching for a “flat” as they called it.

I realized immediately after a preliminary research on gumtree.com, that renting a place on my own was going to be completely out of my price range. Even if I had a small taste of living the Queen life thanks to Pierre, it wasn’t going to be worth it to scrap by every month eating Cheetohs, just to have a tiny studio on my own. Plus, they say local roommates are the best way to get to know people anyways, right?

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I’ve lived in France for 3,336 days and I still didn’t know these 5 things

Hey there crew! It feels so great to be typing these words! I took a completely unplanned hiatus from writing due to some personal reasons that I won’t go into for fear of boring you silly. But the important thing is….(drumroll please)…I’m back and better than ever! Or more realistically, at least the same as before!

I figured my comeback blog post should be something related to my time away from my comfy cyber home and give all those Frenchified followers a little glimpse into the wild world of Kate for the past 8 months. Spoiler Alert. Nothing really crazy happened. I am still conquering the planet one pizza restaurant at a time and spending my spare time attempting to cook French recipes. Of course, when the #fail happens, I order Deliveroo and call it a day.

One important milestone that you did miss was my 9th anniversary in France! I’m not yet in the double digits, but man the number 9 makes me feel like such a veteran. On some days I love it, I feel like I own this city, and other days when someone side eye glares me on the metro, I feel like a cynical old lady muttering around Pigalle about the young kids making so much dang noise. While I feel Frenchified on a pretty regular basis, I’m quickly humbled and brought back to earth when I learn something new, and I’m like “wait, stop right there.” “Say what!” “How did I live in France for the last 9 years and not know that?” This happens more times than I’d like to admit, but here goes the 5 main WTF moment’s I had in 2018!

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