You Can Go Home Again

Maybe not, “home” home, but you can go back to that place where you are supremely comfortable, that reaches out to you with a welcoming hug,  that feeds you like you are starving and always fills your heart with warmth and joy. 

For me that place is Paris.  And within Paris, the Hotel Relais St. Germain. Tiny (you and your suitcase cannot fit in the elevator, particularly if you want to bring your husband along), cozy, decorated with a literary and creative eye, comfortable to a fault and attached to one of the very best restaurants in Paris (Le Comptoir, where I will be eating THE best breakfast in Paris in about an hour.). You can’t beat it. 

First stop, once we checked in, was lunch with intrepid travel buddies Tom and Gale. The restaurant is a brasserie by day, fixed menu, fine dining by (week) night. We had the fabulous assiette des legumes above (amazing what the French can do with a plate of vegetables, a sprinkle of fabulous olive oil and in this case, a scattering of pickled garlic.)

We also had an assortment of lovely salads (including a stunning nicoise), 

the ultimate comfort food of brandade de morue, 

and panna cotta with aged balsamic for dessert. 
And then, dessert’s dessert, a salted caramel koignette from Georges Larnicol across the street, eaten in bed after a hot bubble bath and a luxurious jet lagged snooze. 

And, eventually, even Paris sleeps. 


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