Funny, like, coming out of there, we thought of Curnonsky.
Curon who?
Curnonsky, legend of culinary criticism today in his sad purgatory since hardly anyone to celebrate the centenary of his birth.
Curnonsky, prince-elect of gourmets, his roundness, his buttery earthiness in the Third Republic, his caloric verve all of which henceforth erase a merit of posterity and surely a good part of his talent.
We will never know the why of the how
Curnonsky, which we were not the last to make fun of for a few aphorisms as definitive as they are pathetic, including the famous
“We don't go to a restaurant to eat the curtains”.
Dear prince, allow us to think sometimes, often, the opposite, but, on leaving 18, rue La Boétie, do we have to confess this desire to join you?
Sphère, therefore, a sign of which we will never know the why and how, a table following this Franco-Japanese vein where the two styles generally mingle to make sense, an address for decor with the…
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