food

Sometimes just getting a meal in Paris can be a titanic battle of wills. Take the steak frites place we tried to go to on a recent night. Though recommended by a seemingly reliable guidebook (plastered on the windows there), it was nearly empty at 9:30. We walked in, walked out to consider our options, then walked back in to give it a chance. “The kitchen is now closed,” the proprietress told us. “We can’t stay open just for you. We are tired.” It was a Friday night, and two in our party had put on five fashion shows in one day. Tired.

On to the next place: Delaville, a newish addition to the slew of Costes restaurants in the city. When we asked for a table in the shabby chic dining room, we were referred to a tall guy who barely paused between waiting on tables, bartending, and managing the staff to tell us that the wait for a table would be at least an hour, though there was no sign of anyone else waiting. We were welcome, however, to eat in the bar, so we settled in there. Our table on the cold, glassed in patio had all the charm of the old Dallas BBQ on 8th Street. Ah, Paris. (more…)