This being my second solo meal of the trip I had my game face on. I would be taking no crap from the waitstaff. Though the first person I encountered was rather surly, my waiter took good care of me. I wish I could identify the exact moment when he decided I wasn't insane or likely to stiff him on the tip. Maybe it was when I ordered the full portion of moules et frites. I really don't know. In any case, he treated me like I belonged there and his tip reflected that.
So, here's what I was on my table at Les Halles:
a glass of pinot noir
mesclun with vinaigrette
moules et frites (with white wine, shallots, and garlic)
bread pudding
a french press of coffee
The mesclun was perfect. Not too much vinaigrette, not too little. Perfect.
The mussels were divine. The bowl was huge and I ate every.single.one, then sopped up the broth with a little bread.
The frites were almost perfect but I was so full from the mussels that I couldn't eat them all.
I'd planned to eat half of the bread pudding but opted to leave the whipped cream and half the ice cream instead. It was damn tasty. I would have added a little lemon zest to it, but really, it was great.
As suggested by Uncle Crappy, I give Les Halles a 4 nom rating. That's "nom nom nom nom" to you.
2 comments:
The title takes me back.
80's dancing at frat parties.
p.s. I still rock-out and 80's dance to Squeeze tapes, when I'm alone, in private, with the curtains closed and phone off, in the dark (SQUIER).
p.s.s. 80's chick - I'm a yinzer whatcha 'spect from me.
Dude - I love Tony Bourdain. And I even think he's sorta hawt. I think that' just because he's a badass, though.
Oh - and I also love Gordon Ramsay. But only his British "Kitchen Nightmares." The American version sucks.
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