I stopped here at Maison Sauvage . In my mind I remembered it as the ‘savage house’.Laura and I had a lovely pancake,egg and bacon brunch here earlier this week. I’m an hour earlyfor the opening of Apple 5 minutes from here. This cafe has outdoor heaters. My hair was still wet from the shower. It was a warm day for March, especially in the sun, cool yet in the shade. The waiter Laura and I had when we were here was a handsome young man with a great sense of humor. I ordered in my bastardized French Spanish and he answered in French Spanish before translating in English.
.This time a gorgeous slim and petit black girl with braided hair took my breakfast order. I’m pathetic in French.
“Je desire ‘oeuff’
“You want eggs,”
‘Si’
‘An omelet?’
‘Yes’
With cheese or bacon’
‘Oui”
‘And toast.’
‘Toast?’
‘Pan.’
‘You want bread’
‘Oui’
‘Okay.’
I would say her English is far superior to mine. The food came. It was perfect. The Chef again is a genius.
I watched people passing on the street. Mostly young. Mostly well dressed. This is the Latin Quarter. Lots of galleries, high end shops, cafe’s. Also tourists.
A couple of stunning well dressed young women sat down next to me. They were so chique and savoir in their manners I assumed they were French. But then they spoke English with a slight London accent. I can’t tell. The stereotypes are all gone.There’s homogenization and diversification in overlying levels of sophistication.
I passed a sign that said ‘tribal Paris’. That probably says it.
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