> Luckily, almost every brasserie has its menu posted outside, so you can see if it has any other options besides the standards.
>
> The first night, we chose the brasserie equivalent of Denny's.

You know, I kept thinking you were eating in bra shops until I looked that word up.

Is "brasserie" the common word for an eatery over in Paris, much like the German imbiss or the Spanish cantina (or the American deli or diner)? Or does Miss Mousie have a larger vocabulary than Mister Pas?

>But this was my first experience with real FRENCH fried potatoes (pomme frittes). There's a reason they're not just called "fries." Those French people know how to cook a potato, man. I don't know what they did, or if their potatoes were different, but every single time we had fries, and I would have to say we had some almost every day, no matter how they were cut or served, they were AMAZING. People go to France for the art or the culture or the haute cuisine or fashion, but if I ever go back again, it will be for the fries. I can die happy.

Just wait until you get to Belguim. Pommes are even better there. If you ever get back to New York (and I don't believe you changed planes in My City without letting me know so I could try to swing by LGA or JFK to say "Hi"), I'll take you to Pommes Frites where you can pick up a cone of fries and your choice of three dozen toppings. The garlicky mayo is my favorite.

> But that was helped an awful lot by these little bread-y, cheese-y, puffy things they set down at the start. I was still talking about those cheese puffs on the last day. They were indescribably good.

They didn't need a garlic butter dipping sauce?

-Faux "or deepfried Liface?" Pas