It was Saturday nite and M was in India, my daughter was in Mexico and my son-in-law Cedric was absorbing the loss of his beloved, force of nature, Tante Yvette, so dinner on me at the bistro his choice, Le Petit Marché.
It was bad night to be a duck as diners to our right and left tucked into a magret du canard and as they departed a new diner also ordered the canard to be followed by Cedric.
We started the meal with an excellent bottle of Vacqueyras and I ordered the plat du jour, a super tender pavé de rumsteak, served with haricots vert and puréed potatoes.
The bottle was empty so we ordered a glass each to accompany the Comté that had been aged for 36 months.
The place was packed reflecting the good food at reasonable prices; a small but well-curated wine list and the air of conviviality.
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