Last Lunch in Paris

In the middle of our marathon last day in Paris, we practiced the skill we most appreciated acquiring over our nine months in France: dropping everything to enjoy a leisurely lunch.

One last time, we visited Le Baratin, the celebrated gastro-pub conveniently located a block-and-a-half from our apartment. I'd been for lunch with my mom and Cathy; Maggie and I had been to dinner there once (Mo and Héloise's treat!); but Maggie and I had somehow failed to hit up Le Baratin for their super-economical lunchtime menu.

The whole restaurant is tiny, but we sat in the tiniest section, up a few stairs from the bar and next to a food-and-art library that we could have spent the next nine months working through.

To eat, a few staples of Le Baratin, starting with whitefish and a simple green salad.

Maggie's first course was artichoke au jus. I had some delicious braised oxtail over chickpea-carrot stew. For dessert, we shared the by-now-familiar strawberry soup and a slice of strong cheese.

When asked what we miss most about Paris, we tend to talk a lot about the food culture. It's not too hard to see why. That Le Baratin takes such care in arranging wine bottles above a bookshelf full of reference works that reinforce the professionalism of even the tiniest of out-of-the-way, hole-in-the-wall restaurants - well, that says it all.