Bite Me!

For our last night, we decided to go for some traditional French food, and headed off to the Polidor.  It certainly looks the part, with checked tablecloths, spotted mirrors, and a "charmingly rustic" (i.e. tiny squatting) toilet. 

The food is equally traditional, with liver, snails, fois gras and other such delicacies on the menu.  I realised, a trifle too late, that I might have difficulty finding anything I could actually eat.  In the end, I went for a green salad and some eggs with mayonnaise.  Abi, on the other hand, plunged straight in and ordered steak tartare.  It duly arrived in a giant mound, garnished with chips (which I stole).  Abi tucked in, but sadly found herself unequal to the task of finishing such a large amount of raw meat.

To finish, I ordered a baba aux rhum, purely down to the fact that it was Poirot's favourite pudding.  Well, either he has terrible taste or what the Polidor served me was a travesty of the real thing.  It arrived - a cold, solitary little dumpling - speared through the middle with a fork as if it might try and run away.  I tried to eat it, but it was so rum-soaked (not with nice rum, either) that the only way I might have finished it is if it was liquidised and diluted with lemonade.  The cold custard wasn't that appealing, either. 

On the way home, we stopped off at the crepe stand.