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John Whiting
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http://www.whitings-writings.com/bistro_reviews/office.htm
Sounds like the real thing. Too bad about the noise level. I hope that musak wasn't a contribution. Times change. You used to take a gas mask to a Paris bistro, now you take earplugs.
I was with you until I got to "American music blaring at 78.8 db". That did it. They might as well pour Hellman's Mayonnaise on their salad.
Mary and I loved Terroir Parisien -- the high point of our ten bistro dinners in Paris in September. http://www.whitings-writings.com/bistro_reviews/terroir_parisien.htm
Alas, the distinguished owner Sylvain LeBarbier, before he died last year, sold Pharamond to a rival of the Flo group. “First thing they did,” says food historian Carolin Young, “was fire the very good chef and put in more tables to dumb it down…”. Requiescat, but not in pace.
John, you've hit it spot on. Like nitrogen and glycerin, L'Ami Louis and A.A. Gill are the perfect match.
My own take on Venice from last year -- no duplications: http://www.whitings-writings.com/Travel/venice000.htm
I've eaten good pho at Pho Dong-Phuong in the 11th (Bellevue), and when it's closed there's a big restaurant across the street that's served me well. http://www.whitings-writings.com/bistro_reviews/pho.htm
"Sold American!" I can still hear the monotone gobbledygook of the auctioneer's voice, going up a fifth at the end and descending again to the tonic.
I've stopped going to these events because they exist primarily to help someone else earn a living by telling me what to do. I eat, I enjoy, and I don't worry about whether something else would have been even better.
In Memoriam Ned Paynter . . . a multi-talented and easy-going genius who made the best of a bum deal "I don't ask, 'Why me?' Why not me? I don’t feel any grievance. It was nothing personal." http://www.thankyouoneandall.co.uk/letters/ned.htm In my website of thank-you letters to those who made me into what I was to become, I’ve just finished my tribute to my late great friend Ned Paynter. Ned spent his last fifteen years slowly dying of spinal cancer, to which a lifetime of conscientious jogging might have contributed. As scholar, cartoonist, journalist, photographer, teacher and bon vivant, he kept me perpetually entertained. I've decided that my major contribution to his memory will be to put his brilliant and eminently readable Ph.D. dissertation, which never found a publisher, on line. I’m half-way through and it's linked to in this tribute.
Toggle Commented Sep 4, 2010 on Words on Wednesday: Death at John Talbott's Paris
The appreciation of fine wines I put in a category with a close reading of Finnegan's Wake: If we had world enough and time . . .
O.K., you force my hand. Next visit.