The Great Parisian Plate Debate

I discovered La Pinte after my target, L’Urgence Bar, foolishly closed their doors on this particular day. I found myself in dire need to escape the Parisian torrents, as I was brilliantly sans umbrella as usual. L’Urgence Bar’s loss is La Pinte’s gain, and no amount of kitsch – and L’Urgence, which serves cocktails in test tubes and labels their cocktails with such enticing names as The Laxative, has that en masse – makes me regret my serendipitous choice of La Pinte.

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Le Paradis du Fruit suffers from its self-inflicted unfortunate name. By dubbing themselves the fruit paradise, they paint themselves into a corner from which it’s difficult to escape. Bring me a plate piled high with banana and mango, wreathed in an alternating pattern of strawberry and pineapple, and I’ll wonder why I’m dropping a twenty euro bill on something easily purchased from the market down the boulevard. If the waiter delivers a mere sandwich to my table, with nary a lemon wedge or some type of rich blueberry-based sauce, I’ll question the purpose of such a fruit focused moniker.

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In order for you to fully appreciate my feelings for Pub St Germain, I feel compelled to preface this review by saying the establishment prompted Christian and I to spend 10 minutes discussing the relative strengths of words such as “hate” and “loathe.”

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