I believe I mentioned earlier that we had rented an apartment for the week we stayed in Paris. It was delightful. Sure there were minor problems but not enough to ruin a holiday. For breakfast we all pretty much stayed in with our coffee and fruit and baguettes and blackberry jam. Most days for lunch we all scattered to various sights and then found a bistro or a brassiere for our midday meal. Evenings were spent together at local restaurants where we usually went over our budget but had a marvelous time. One evening we all were just a bit too pooped to search for a restaurant. Everyone wanted to kick off their shoes and just stay in for the night. And why not? We had a comfortable apartment with a dining area (and a kitchen).
And our apartment was about two blocks from Blvd. St. Germain where there was a patisserie (bakery), a boucherie (meat,sausage), a fromagerie (cheese), a poissonnier (fish monger), a charcuterie (prepared foods), fruit stalls and wine shops. (Curt wants to live on this street forever or really near it). So it was agreed that this night we would get take-out. Two of us set the table and the other four went foraging. With the requisite bon jours, mercis and au revoirs, they returned with a wonderful selection of food.
A short while later, shoes kicked aside, forks and wine glasses at the ready, this was dinner at “home”.
All the bread in Paris is fresh and crusty.
Those potatoes with the chicken drippings were heaven and we all wanted to lick the container clean.
Pate, Brie and Comte…rich yes. C’est la vie. Besides we probably walked it off the next day.
Wine. Yes. Every bottle was wonderful. Merci to the vin connoisseurs in our group.