The lunch cruise on the Seine we were supposed to take today was canceled, so we rearranged that for Monday night's dinner. I've been in touch with tomorrow's guide for Ile de la Cite, and he will be ready to meet us as planned. So off we will go to find the Metro and give it a go tomorrow morning.
Last night, before the trouble started, we went to a wonderful Montmartre restaurant, Au Trois Petit Cochons (the Three Little Pigs). It was small and rustic, with real candles on the tables, and with a decidedly piggy decor (my friend Helen Gillotte-Tropp would love it).
One view of Au Trois Petit Cochon
The food was absolutely fabulous. We each had an appetizer plate: Deb and Grace had pumpkin soup with goat cheese, Ed had foie gras with mushrooms and salad (no comments, please, we're in France), and I had grilled endives stuffed with goat cheese in a cream sauce with ham. Dear lord, they were amazingly good dishes. Plenty of bread was consumed in getting all the soup or sauce off those plates.
Grilled Endive stuffed with Goat Cheese in a Ham Cream Sauce
Prawns with Lemon Risotto and Baby Vegetables in Seafood Sauce
The prawns were delicious, perfectly done. In Italy last year, I thought the prawns were so fabulous that I looked for them on menus, and it seems France is the same.
The restaurant is quite small, with family-style long tables for couples who come late
Knowing that two bags of jewel-colored macarons awaited us at home, we were determined not to have dessert at the restaurant, but Ed had read a review that said the Baked Alaska flamed with Armagnac was not to be missed, so . . . one Baked Alaska with four forks later, we rolled out into the street. Sorry, no picture of that -- we were about three minutes too late to take it.
We taught the waiter, a lovely young Frenchman, what it means if Americans say "Hated it," holding up our empty plates. He thought that was funny.
So off we go on our continued travels . . . a bientot.