The Great Parisian Plate Debate

Higuma isn’t a swank sushi place; it’s a dive noodle shop. In a plot twist that many Americans might find hard to believe, they don’t even serve sushi. There’s always a quickly moving line out the door and while there’s a dining room in the back, we requested stools at the counter.

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Le Rendez-Vous des Amis is a neighborhood dive situated high up in Montmartre. Just a few minute walk from the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur, it is happily free of the throngs of tourists little more than a flight of stairs away.

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I love markets. When I lived in London I could be found most weekends at one of their many. I’d even say that Borough market was one of my favorite places in the entire city. While almost every Paris neighborhood has its own street market, few offer the smorgasbord of street food that was quite common in London. The Marché des Enfants-Rouges is the closest that I have found.

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Christian and I were near the end of the road. There were only a few days left, yet there still remained 14 bars. What to do?
The answer was a not as much an choice as an imperative: a traditional “blue collar” European breakfast.

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While the selection was small, the Italian wine we ordered was only 15€ and extremely tasty, and the meat was exceptionally generous for the price. They only charged 4€, and it was twice the size and quality of others I’ve been served costing more than 10€. So, even though it doesn’t technically count as a bar for the GPD, I highly recommend this fine establishment. I was actually kind of disappointed that I had to leave for my dinner reservation, as I wanted to check out their menu. The inside was promising, and I would certainly go back for groceries as well.

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Hot days in Paris can be exceptionally torturous for American males. Most of us are handicapped by the irresistible urge to wear undershirts beneath our unfortunately long sleeved professional attire, which, when combined with the teeming mass of Parisians rubbing on each other in a skinny metro car, makes these warm days feel particularly hellish. In a failed effort to cool down, the waiter was duly directed to bring us his most stylishly chilled bottle of white wine.

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