The Great Parisian Plate Debate

I somehow drew the short straw, but before I could take my seat in what seemed like an 18” gap between the bar and the window, the waiter had to pull another occupied table out of the way so he could move ours. Grinning and cracking smartass comments all the way, he waited for me to crawl in then shut off my exit. The bastard was clearly enjoying the entire thing.

Read more →

I’ve always said those Parisians are industrious folks, and they have validated my past compliments by making places like the L’Arrosoir open for business on lazy Saturday afternoons. The restaurant’s proximity to the park - i.e., directly below it- combined with the plethora of tables spilling out of the café’s doors onto the sidewalk create an inviting atmosphere difficult for anyone to turn down. There was also a white pit bull scampering around the front doors without a leash, and the potential for a vicious canine attack on our ankles while chugging a manly bottle of rosé was too enticing to pass up.

Read more →

The lack of customers during the lunching hour, combined with the quasi-backyard atmosphere, contributed to the “trespassing” feeling, but luckily we here at the Great Plate Debate are brave souls. If we had been men of lesser fortitude I may not have been forced to write a poorly structured essay about this restaurant. As it was, we had cautiously reached the back of the rectangular restaurant by the time a cordial gentleman popped out of a side door and offered us a prime seat in front of Jesus.

Read more →

The first thing I noticed when I walked in was the odd mix of cool posters on the walls. I quickly realized they were all emblazoned in some way with the name Willi’s. Gimmicky? Sure, but it actually kind of worked. But then over in a corner, I saw a vase with a stack of the posters for sale. All of a sudden it took a dive towards the commercial. Where was I, Planet Hollywood?

Read more →