As we past the Pompidou Centre, we started getting hungry . . .
so on one corner, we just launched into the cafe that seemed to be busy enough to be good, but not so busy we couldn't get in . . . 8^) . . .
our carafes of water and white wine, pouilly fume, to go with my fish . . . per the waiter's reco . . . .
plaice, I think smothered in wine-butter sauce with mussels, and saffron rice . . . I would say this is not michelin quality, but what ever is just next to it . . . I could eat there every day, I bet . . .
all the girls had quiche (Tick!) which they raved of its fluffy texture . . .
we are always amazed how easy it is to find good food in France -- and conversely, how hard it is to find bad food . . .