The Great Parisian Plate Debate

20, Boulevard Diderot (Gare de Lyon),  75012
Tel. 01.43.43.09.06

Le Train Bleu is a splendid name for a cocktail, don’t you think? The name evokes imagery of a chilled martini glass, filled with a high-priced vodka, garnished with an obscure exotic fruit and splashed with some Blue Curaçao. I would certainly drink one, probably request a second, and stagger out half a dozen later simultaneously singing the praises and cursing the addictive qualities of the Le Train Blue potion.

The pull of the requisite bottle of wine, however, proved to be too much to overcome, let alone the chaos wedded to any attempt to convince a French bartender to mix together a fictional cocktail. Dan probably would have yelled at me, also.

There is something thoroughly enjoyable about the whole Train Bleu experience. Perhaps it was uncorking the bottle in the middle of the afternoon, but I doubt it - that has become a common occurrence here in France. Instead I place the good guilt on the location - location, location, location! Well, ambiance, too. Set within the Gare de Lyon train station, the station with the completely unnecessary faux palm trees, the blue neon lights of the Le Train Bleu sign beckon you, urging you to pass through its doors and into an arena that appears unchanged for a century. Once inside those doors, consider me surprised if you are unimpressed. The decor pays appropriate homage to the decadence the French are known for - this is a train station restaurant after all; most folks would be impressed if there was a McDonald’s or a Bonne Journée.

Sitting in a comfortable leather chair, my eyes roving the pristinely painted walls and golden ceilings while my ears were taking in the ‘clickity-clack’ of trains coming and going, it wasn’t difficult to imagine myself drinking that glass of wine in a different age; perhaps during the early decades of the 20th century, while the valiant blue train was still carrying passengers from Paris to the French Riviera. Gazing out over the plaza below, surging with travelers, businessmen, and a touch or two of the unsavory, I casually disregarded Dan’s sudden claim that he saw a rodent scurry under a nearby chair and soaked in both the wine and Le Train Bleu.