If you want to learn to eat classic French food in style there are few places better to start than Le Train Bleu.
Possibly the most terrifying meal of my life took place in Paris.
Don't go by the reviews on G**gle but do bear this in mind if you want to dine at Le Frank: They've got a cornered market. The nearest place to eat well (other than the jardin d'acclimatation next door) is 20-25 minutes away on the hoof, or a bus/taxi ride.This means you'll pay more than you want for less of what you want. That aside the food and service were excellent and the room very pleasant. It's up to you whether you want to hang on till later or just take the pain in the pocket and have a nice light lunch.
‘This is a sad song for Brexit’ was Staples’s sole comment on the events of that night. No Treasure but Hope seemed a fitting anthem for a disillusioned but steadfast Europhile
The Marais has some jewels - especially the Musée de la Chasse et Nature (also bereft of vittles) - but you have to pay for them in the tedium of expensive crapshops, chainshit and a swarm of arseholes, some on scooters.
We took the salad of the day and a big planche of cheese with a couple of glasses of Chablis on the side. The salad turned out mostly to be pesto-stirred pasta with a few bits of veg secreted within. Palatable but not exactly what we were looking for. The cheese on the other hand was five varieties of the runny shiznit with a generous helping of rustic bread alongside - definitely a better option. The wine was too warm.
Great pizza, bored staff, tedious customers.
Good food, poor choices. I have to say that eating tête de veau isn't something I'll do again in a hurry. The meaty bits were ok but the gluey bits were ... gluey.
Professional waiter, cold beer and massive salad with big lumps of salty goat cheese au Cadran du PMU. Recommended.
The Marché St Germain. It has an Apple store, a Marks and Spencer and an arcade. But it's not Covent Garden. Oh no, there's none of your stick riding Yodas here. Or tedious shouters with flamesticks shoved facewards, gurning for a jaded mob of tourist cretins. This is left-bank Paris and they're too civilised for that crap.