L'Auberge Cafe, 4, rue Bertin-Poiree in the First, is a place that has a warm spot in my heart. So when an old friend and fellow warrior in the fight against mental illness said he'd be in town one day between Great Britain and Alaska and needed to meet near the Louvre, it seemed a logical choice.
With two of his grand-daughters and wife, we numbered 6 and to start several of them had the petit pois soup that Colette seemed to like, my old pal had the mousse of avocado and crab and I indulged myself in a fine boudin with lattice-chips.
Then most of the table had the house salad with toast, cheese, ham and lettuces and my buddy and I had the steak tartare (which I asked them boldly to mix not trusting my hand with the Worcestershire and Tobasco) with frites, both of which were surpringly good for a place dishing out 2-dishes for 13.50 E.
With a liter and glass of Syrah, 2 coffees, 2-5 E supplements for the beef and one bottled water, our bill should have been 136.50 E but they undercharged me 30.50 E which I will repay; thus for a couple it would be 45.50 E and that's not counting the antique ceramic owl my somewhat exuberant friend knocked off an unstable barrel outside.
