La Petite Chaise

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In the past five hours I've managed pretty well, so far I bought a charger and minutes for my French cell phone, drank a macon village and ate olives at a little cafe, got lost and asked for directions thrice (or more), caught two trains, and bought a six pack of water bottles, wiping out the guy's entire stock.

My dear friend Ashley was kind enough to give me (while I stayed on her couch after I missed my flight) her "Paris for Dummies" book. I already have a couple great France books thanks to Gary, but this was a nice addition. It lists really specific places to visit or dine at. Since I've already gotten lost 5 times, I'm pretty wary of the metro, I'm not even sure how I got from the metro to the apartment, I've stuck to anything within walking distance. I looked up neraby restaurants in "Dummies" and found La Petite Chaise, purportedly the oldest restaurant in Paris. It used to be an inn, and still retains the original inn-like qualities.
I got lost on the way...seems to be the trend of my Grand Adventure. BUT it only took me a couple tries to right myself, and I found the adorable restuarant.
I entered and greeted the first person I saw in there. Too bad she wasn't a waitress, but just a random woman in the bar. Luckily a real waiter showed up, and I told him "Bonjour" and everyone corrected me by replying "Bonsoir". Rookie mistake. But I procured a table, it already had only one chair. It was early yet, about 7:30, so only a couple parties were there. This elderly gentleman came to my table in a thickly pinstriped suit, with a red and white striped shirt. If he weren't so adorable and french it would've been tacky, but it fit quite well. He greeted me with "Hello. Mademoiselle," clearly aware from the get-go that I was not French, but giving me the option of languages. I think I made the proper choice in attempting French the entire night. This head waiter guy is my new favorite person; I read that in France, waiting tables is a highly respected profession, and now I understand why. This man could've been manager at a five-star restaurant in the U.S.
I ordered the apertif maison, which was essentially a kir, but with a different kind of base wine. Then I ordered the prix-fixe menu, which consisted of a duck pate with pistachios, a seared swordfish in a bordelaise sauce (which sounded weird at first since it's a beef sauce, but was amazing!) with rice, and a white chocolate mousse, with a generous layer of warm chocolate sauce on top. Oh my. I'm not going to say how good everything was, I'm sure you can imagine. I let the waiter choose wine for me, which was smart, but now I can't remember what type they were. The red was an impeccable match for the duck, and I'm actually kind of mad that I'll never know now what it was. He and I agreed that I would start with the red, but since the main dish was a fish, I would decide later if I wanted to switch to white. When the fish came, the girl brought out a glass of white wine too. I asked her what it was, and she looked startled and said "white wine?" like I didn't know. I asked her what kind, and it was a Touraine. It turns out the waiter simply sent it out without me even having to ask. I told him later that they were both perfect, and he seemed tickeld pink.
The entire meal was a little out of my price range, but it was completely worth it!

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