A Perfect day ... in Paris




Under the surreal Eiffel Tower, resembling a Hollywood set, I met my man, a kiss, a walk, its cold.
Yes, ... not cooking tonight! I am taken to a Brasserie, Terminus Nord.

The classic French Brasserie, a working model of a restaurant that really flies, effectively and  efficiently with every twist and grand turn of hand.  Glasses break, people laugh, French people of a certain age eat plies of steak tartare, whipped quickly together by waiters, pomme fritte are fat and gold, wine bottles bare labels that are cellar tattered, women are elegant and still casual; all the men look like they know what they are doing... my perfect world. The reason I fell in love with Restaurants in the first place, all activity has purpose, drama and romance. The food endlessly turned out every day. Each dish bearing the reputation of the establishment since 1923! There is a menu formula that works.

Entrée:  Compote of  legumes with poached egg.  Main: Duradard ( bream ) Provençal. Dessert: Set vanilla bean speckled cream with a veil of shattering caramel, the classic creme brulee.
The legumes where content with flavour and held their constancy, egg was runny yolked. My bream was leaning on a compote of roast fennel bulb core and all, eggplant, peppers , tiny roast coriander seeds, finished with chives. So satisfying I could feel the nourishment infiltrating every cell. The company was close to complete the fairy tale.

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