Another J has also jetted in today to join the party and after a spot of shopping (well it seems almost rude not to) she is meeting DD and I in the Hudson bar for a pre-show cocktail before leaping into a yellow cab and heading for the meat packing district.
Our trusty concierge has suggested Florent for us tonight; I mentioned something about the meat packing district and something authentic and a 24 hour French roadside caff often hailed as a
The signs are made out of those white letters you might have seen on a board outside the local Odeon proclaiming the latest
I start with a little pork liver pâté with green peppercorns, I had hoped for the duck mousse pâté but they’d run out. I normally like my pâté less coarse and more of a parfait but the pork liver pâté had a feisty taste.
Then we all realised that being in the meat packing district we really should have steak frites – a grilled New York sirloin with all the trimmings even though the mac & cheese, chicken and salmon looked pretty good also.
And for a dessert a few spoons of a mousse au chocolat to complete our fine French bistro fare, we could be in a little starkly light and plastic flower adorned café that litter the French countryside but no we’re in