A salon de the rather than anything more elaborate, but with Notre Dame over your left shoulder, the river a couple of yards away, and the Latin Quarter across it, who needs elaborate? In short, Paris all rolled up into a little ball of deliciousness, though, happily, without too many braying imbecile tourists, it being a mid week afternoon. Now, I am no stranger to hyperbole, but I ordered a ham omelette expecting something nice but ordinary. What came was possibly the best omelette I have ever eaten, solid and weighty on the plate yet as light as a mayfly's wing in the mouth, the egg like a pancake on the outside and still just about runny in the centre. Gorgeous ham and just a touch of salt for seasoning. A white plate dressed with a sprig or parsley and some tiny slivers of tomato. It really doesn't get any better than that.Extras: Pastis, fine; nibbles, fine; bread and butter, fine; a club sandwich with deliciously sweet chips, like Spanish ones, fine; two grand double espressos, wow; a plate of nice little choccies, yum. 41 euros and I would have paid half as much again it was so good.
Cappucino count: 9/10. Don't tell the rosbifs.
6 comments:
I am so hungry now.
You can eat that stuff - except for the bread, choccies, nuts, olives and pastis.
i'll just sit in my corner of canada and drool.
Sounds great.
Would you mind going and checking out The French House in Dean St sometime? Not the restaurant, just the bar. They only serve halves, but a lovely selection of wines. I used to sit in one of the big windows and sip G&T, watching Soho meander on by.
Oh crap. Ice that's me, Nexus above.
I'd recognise that dottiness anywhere. Will try to amble over to Soho in the next couple of weeks.
Post a Comment