Le Petit Chatelet

A no-nonsense unfussy French meal at last.

She only flew in from a four-month stay in steamy Asia two days ago but my Parisian friend, along with her hubby, were courageous enough to brave the cold of winter and meet me for dinner last night at one of their favorite spots. We were in the area of Notre Dame and after a quick order of gigantor drinks at a very touristy corner bar, we walked over to the restaurant next door to have a hearty French meal that had a modicum of good service – not too polite as that would be the total antithesis of Paris – a decent appetizer of foie gras, a nice little chunk of tournedos, and a couple of unusually huge sized profiteroles that ended up only being partially finished. Despite an overly loud table of entitled diners chattering in a coarse mediterranean-sounding language right next to us, the wine and conversation flowed naturally and we were able to catch up on everything that mattered. Thank you, Pet and Ewen, for another lovely time in the city, always great to see you.

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