As it is soon drawing to the point where we must abandon Paris for our more permanent abode, MK and I have started looking at all the things we’ve been meaning to do, but failed to do. The one thing MK had strongly requested at the beginning of our trip was that we get one nice, expensive, well-made Parisian meal. Which we have now done.
We’ve actually been planning this since before Christmas, and even went so far as to make reservations. It took us a while to find the place, as it was quite small, and we had actually chosen to walk (!!) from our hostel–which was no small feat. Even without stops, it probably would have taken us a half hour. We stopped by the Gallerie de Lafeyette on our way, then finally cut across and found the restaurant (thanks to GPS, because without it, we would still be wandering around, trying to figure out where we were supposed to go). The restaurant itself was beautiful, everything was nicely set, everything was in French and English (which is nice when you aren’t really sure what an item is in English, much less in a foreign language). This was definitely a meal to take your time over (all five courses of it), which generally wouldn’t have been a problem for us except, well…I lost my voice.
Completely gone. Like, not even a squeak. Just a general low whisper. This makes conversation very, very difficult. But we soldiered on, had some soup, something that was really tasty but I’ve yet to determine what exactly it was (best guess is whipped egg white with grilled onions and garlic in it with the raw yolk just sitting there, eyeing me with one eye). The bowls for the soup came with this sort of crust already baked onto them, with a nicely placed hole to one side, through which the waiter poured the soup. We continued through our meal, finally coming to the one thing we had both been looking forward to the most.
Yes, dessert. Because we’re sweetness addicts.
It was totally worth the wait. It was like nutella, but on steroids. Nutellroids. It was a perfectly shaped little mousse, with the perfect amount of extra chocolate, the kind where you savour each bite and wish it could last just a little longer.
We eventually, however, had to finish. We had been at the restaurant for several hours, and it was now quite late. We took the metro back to the hostel, said goodnight to the Eiffel Tower from our window, and faceplanted into bed.