Smooth pâté with cognac-soaked cherries, chunks of baguette that threw shrapnel of crust into the air when you tore it apart. Piles of golden frites, too hot to touch, Bibb lettuce salad with hazelnuts and sharp shallot vinaigrette, crunchy orbs of falafel, frilly slices of cured ham, a gooey croque madame that we’d order “for the table” and then feign amnesia when it arrived.
Goals.
