This table is one that you would want to keep for yourself as long as possible.
Do not share it, do not run it on the screens.
Just for once, just for this one, to keep quiet, to dream of the canteen, to become jealous of it, to allow yourself to be selfish.
Protect it from curious people, scavengers, bottle runners.
Arrange a secret tip, a napkin ring in these new quiet days in Clichy.
For almost a year of opening - silence, closed mouth - we have held on as much as possible but the lips of the neighborhood have spoken to the ears of the city, those of the city to those of the ring road, those of the ring road to those of Paris and here it is already a star, in the evening often sold out.
So we'll let go of Rosette!
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A cork pops.
Doesn't that remind you of anything?
Forget the rue de Paris, imagine a Croix-Rousse, two traboules.
Always not?
Say Rosette again, add a short wine-colored storefront, a loud hello, a room that sticks together, tables that move...
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