The Bar at the Pharamond
Sorry for the awful picture but there is my fish dinner.
My Uncle Phil (Phaaps) came to visit this weekend. We spent Saturday afternoon cleaning up the apartment on the third floor and getting a good idea of what needs to be done in order to get it in order for a remodeling.
Saturday night he took me out to my great-grandfather's favorite restaurant, Le Pharamond, in the 1st arrondissement known for it's Tripe, intestines (Phil warned me against trying them, he had fallen prey years earlier.) It has a beautiful interior, ornately decorated wood and beautiful mirrors cover every wall. I enjoyed an appetizer of Escargots again with a Kir. Phaaps and I chatted over a bottle of white wine as our plats arrived. I understand that I ordered fish but I wasn't expecting to get a fish. At least not a whole fish. A plate with a whole fish, scales, fins, eyeballs and all the bones that God gave it were present. With help from a somewhat nosy elderly French lady I figured out how to open the fish properly. By cutting horizontally across the middle of the fish and opening the sides vertically one has access to the meat with little interaction from tiny sharp fish bones. After an exhausting battle avoiding fishy fish parts I retired to another glass of wine and waited for dessert. Phaaps had wisely ordered Crepes Suzzette for the two of us. The waiter brought out a small table with a pan and a stove and prepared the crepes in front of our faces. My mouth will never forget the taste of crepes soaked in Grand Marnier, ignighted, and garnished with orange peel. What a treat!
