Congratulations to France on its win against Denmark! And happy belated Thanksgiving to most of the rest of us.
Well, Parn, I’m enormously flattered by your proposal, which perhaps you later retracted 
, and despite your outstanding proposal to Madame Mangeur, I think the solution is to marry both of us. Certainly in some parts of the world that would be okay. And I know Pilgrim and I would get along splendidly! I would just sit back and be entertained by listening to you and Pilgrim discuss all the philosophical aspects of dining.
Ah, Flocon, I had looked forward to that Friday night. We all arrived around 8pm and were the first there. By 8:30pm only two other tables were filled, one with a family of four, another with a quiet couple. Granted it was raining, but I expected a little more liveliness. Could something have recently changed at the restaurant? I peaked at a couple of recent TripAdvisor reviews and they were not good, although admittedly most were very good. We will for sure give it another try, maybe on a Saturday or Sunday.
Regarding Chantoiseau, we had a great lunch there in October 2021. As onzième has noted, we received a generous portions of terrine de foie gras de canard, roasted langoustines in a delightful shellfish sauce, one of the best ris de veau we’ve had and a gigantic portion of perfectly (very red) cooked duck breast. We didn’t return this year because, as good as the meal was, there were some spices in some dishes that seemed like they were edging toward a different type of cuisine. Maybe we should have returned this autumn, but onzième’s comments made me hesitate. If anyone else visits this lovely spot on rue Lepic, please post and let us know about it!
As to your last point, some of us not-so-rich gringos may choose restaurants to spend their euros on, others may go to World Cup games. And probably my favorite day in Paris this year was a bike ride up the Marne with R (no tour groups, please) on very good road bikes we rented in the 4th. Our lunch as we stretched out on the grass along the Marne was whatever snacks we happened to have in our jersey pockets.
