On a bitterly cold winter’s night what better way to warm the soul than to have a rib sticking meal in a neighbourhood brasserie in 14th arrondissement.
This is exactly what I did on my second foray of solo eating in Paris. From a swift read of the menu blackboard on the pavement, and I mean swift, it was -2 and snowing that night. I was enticed in by a modern take on a French brasserie. As I opened the door and pushed past the heavy red velvet curtains, providing a welcomed barrier to the harsh elements outside, I was greeted by a waitress whose smile lit up the room. I told her I wanted a table for one for dinner which didn’t seem to faze her. She gave me a choice of two tables. Neither table was hidden away and I chose one facing the rest of the restaurant.