We'll always have Paris.
Our last dinner of the trip was a late, hastily arranged affair due to Margy's torturous work schedule, but it was still a good time. I used the opportunity to tie up some loose ends, in the form of eating more oysters and snails; trying the classic frisée salad with bacon, croutons, and a poached egg; and finally devouring a profiterole with chocolate sauce. I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I didn't get that last one accomplished.
Margy had dorado, that oft-appearing fish, with a sauce made with star anise, that oft-appearing spice. I think I liked the fish more than she did. The skin was crispy.
When the waiter came over with a coffeepot full of bubbling-hot chocolate sauce for the profiteroles you see here (which are filled with vanilla ice cream) and he began to pour the sauce slowly and dare I say suggestively over the puffs until they were about to swim away on a sea of chocolate, he looked at Margy's colleague and said, in French, "Let me know if there is not enough."
Paris, a bientôt!
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