Wow!
After hours of walking all of us had built up an appetite. We made our way to a one hundred-year-old authentic French bistro, Chartier, that was recommended by Christien, our guide on yesterday’s bike tour. It was great – similar in design and time period to Katz deli in New York but uniquely French… an arrogant waiter who sternly directed us where to sit, a menu of steak frites (selected by the boys) and fois gras (chosen by mom), and inexpensive, yet sumptuous vin rouge by the carafe. When the boys asked for ketchup for their steak the waiter was suitably appalled and whisked off with his nose in the air in an appropriately typical air of ‘le disgust’. We managed to stifle our giggles until a different waiter came over to our table and took a piece of baguette from our bread basket that wasn’t uniformly cut. “Qui a coupe ce morceau de pain!??” he shouted. Our waiter came flying over and admitted that it was he. The other waiter then directed a hefty amount of ‘merde’ at our waiter and a heated argument ensued. The senior waiter marched off in a huff with the offending piece of bread and we started to laugh, much to the relief of our server. All of this was quite amusing!