|Heathrow Terminal 5|
Eat where the pilots eat.
Next day, R doing what he does best directed us to a great crepe place here in the Marais - Breizh Café.
It's modest appearance belies the fabulous menu.
They do the most amazing buckwheat crepes, savory and sweet. (Although with the number of plates of oysters we saw going out, buckwheat crepes are not their only specialty). Like most popular places in Paris the owner was sending people away who did not have a reservation. One of the waitresses who spoke a little English was about to turn us away sadly, but then the owner said wait, and snuck her a thumbs up when a table left. I'd say that was pretty fortunate given that group after group were turned away after we were seated.
We started with charcuterie - a large plate of cured meats - one of which had a round, squiggly sort of appearance. Quite frankly it looked like a thin slice of cured brain, but ehhhhhh - it was delicious. Later on our food tour on Sunday, we discovered it was likely snout. Not sure if you think that is better or worse, but I figure if I came all this way to eat, it's no time for sticking my nose up at things (that's some foreign foodie humour for you).
As for the crepes, R's was an onion confit, mine artichoke - with ham, cheese and an egg cooked over easy in the middle that you could drag over all the other components. Quite delicious, especially with the recommended cup of cider (which, after I'd drunk half a delicious cup, I realized was likely alcoholic but seems to be widely drunk at all times of the day here). We finished with a baked apple and salted caramel crepe with buckwheat ice cream. Outstanding.
Of amusing note, there was a tan plastic bottle of Whole Foods 365 brand grade A maple syrup on the shelf behind the kitchen, and sitting next to us were three valley girls discussing their history of boyfriends. It's certainly a place frequented by English speakers, but the food was absolutely worth it.