Not so very long ago, I was adviced to go to Le Carette by a young, French girl who'd decided to let me know the very best ins and outs of Paris. I think maybe it was my slip of the tongue that I'd love to move to the French capital that got her so anxious for me to see the very best of it. The first thing she told me, in her wonderfully accented Frenglish, was "Le Carette!". I went, thinking I'd see a typical coffee shop where an 18-year old girl would hang out, but got freakishly surprised as I entered one of the fanciest lunch places by Places des Vosges. Already upon entrance I felt strange and out of place, but somehow that all changed slowly until I felt right at home amongst the rich people. In front of me was an elderly American woman (or Canadian? She struck me as being Canadian for some reason) who was completely snubbed by her husband who'd found a French comrade and was deeply investigated in a profound conversation with him. She even had to sit by a table to herself because there weren't room for her at theirs. That's just bad form, even in Le Carette. Which is a great place, and apparently the branch by Place des Vosges is the superior one (they have another by the Eiffel).
25 Place des Vosges
Paris, France
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