Honey Does Paris... Spring Sessions (France 2012)

 For anyone who's ever been to Paris it will come as no surprise that it's very dog friendly. Assumption can be an anchor when traveling, however. Thus prior to our customary wander of the city, done each time when returning from the countryside, there were conversations to be had with the proprietors of both the small family run hotel we preferred and the restaurant of choice for dinner that night. Although each was touched by the courtesy, neither was the least bit concerned. The Madame of the hotel even going so far as to break into english (a first in our dealings) to echo my description of our petite chien nouvelle, qui est très mignon ("Wee luuv, uhm, cuute leeetle dugs."). The owner of Le Severo in the 14th, that tiny gem home to perhaps the best steak frîtes in the city, merely responded with an un-bothered "Oui...?". (Easy to imagine over the phone the accompanying shrug of shoulders.)
 So northward we trained, the latest installment of our fêtes de voisins from the day before still fresh in memories: foie gras made from the geese of Suzanne's daughter, Katherine, served with Alice's confiture d'oignon; Katie did a course of grilled mackerel, stuffed in thyme and lemon, and served with white asparagus; Suzanne roasted one of those beautiful chickens from the farm in Juillé with young potatoes. The countryside sped by under a sky with few clouds, as we got into a "fridge emptier" picnic of bread, saucisson, a few cheeses, and Kronnenbourgs wrapped in foil. Dinner would not come until later that evening, and a few hours of exploring would need to be done before then.

 Bags were dropped, but not before most everyone working at the hotel emerged from the back for kind words and a caress of the pup, leaving us relegated to bystanders. (W.C. Fields had it right about being rendered useless in the presence of kids and animals.) Through the nearby Jardins de Luxembourg, stopping for some sun by the large fountain, we strolled long enough to make the cold pressions at Au Petit Suisse seem earned. Spoke at length with a very cool art dealer in the process of setting up an interactive on-line form of gallery comprised of Europe-wide artists, so much so that we cheated ourselves of the long walk down to the lower 14th. A cab was hailed.
 Greeted warmly in the very small (29 seats?) restaurant, Honey was easily deposited at our feet. Meat is prominent at Le Severo, with only one of the... 8 starters (white asparagus) and one of the 8 or so "mains" (sole meunière) being the exceptions. Ordering too much food and being un-bugged by it, we started with poached pig trotters shaped into little "cakes", seared in a hot skillet to give a nice crust, a mound of water cress to cut the fat a bit; steak tartare, so fresh, and ground to order; a terrine of head cheese, rich in warm spice. Then it was on to the steaks, Katie opting for a fist sized rumstek ("rump" steak) and I for the entrecôte ("rib eye"), served perfectly saignant. (Should you be one normally tempted to go further with your temp, the "Saignant!" written in the center of the chalk board wall mapping the available wines should discourage. You won't be sorry.) Pink, rested, damn good. With them came crispy golden frîtes done in duck fat, and (to assuage any guilt) an order of the white asparagus, tossed in a whole grain mustard vinaigrette was included.

 Rather than further test what had been commendable patience for a young dog, we jumped ahead to espresso; the better to get out and walk off some of what we consumed. The cool night air was welcome, a faint remnant of twilight lingering as we slid up the tree lined Rue Emile Richard that cuts through the Cimetière de Montparnasse. It was only when passing a gelato shop an hour or so later that our resolve weekend, leaving us sitting on a stoop just down from the hotel sharing small plastic spoons of chocolate-hazelnut, stracciatella, and dolce de lece. We would be off early in what was already the next day, separated by only few hours of sleep, warm croissants, and a café crème.

Chez Gautier Cooking School: http://www.chez-gautier.com