Bofinger, probably the oldest brasserie in Paris and right in our neighborhood in the Bastille. My friend Phil recommended it and he and Helga go there when en Pareeee.
It is a beautiful place and evokes the belle epoque quite readily. The food was good. I especially enjoyed David's streak tartare. And the seafood platters (next time I go with someone who likes to share something as beautiful and seafoody as this!) were gorgeous.
The waiters were the cliche Frenchiest we had in Paris so far. Meaning: SO not nice and just could care less. That was a shame. And here I tried so hard. Oh well.
Thanks Phil. All was great except for the total disdain of the waiters. Would go back, but dressed as a French person.
It never dawned on me, but it is SO not pronounced "BO-finger" but rather "Bo-fawn-zhay." I love saying it ten times fast now. It is like giving your mouth a personal massage.